#ROCHELLE » kill all sons of bitches.

[torntruth]

*     [ @ncvabcrn​​​​ ]     —       “  you don’t have to come over here and take care of me you know.  i can clean up my own messes.  ” for rochelle !       //     this  meme,   always  accepting .

“   I  only  listen  to  you  when  you  make  sense.   ”

That  was  so  blunt,   the  way  Rochelle  just  stood  there  for  a  few  seconds  staring  down  Ally.    Lips  pursed.    All  before  she  leaned  down,   leaned  her  rifle  onto  her  side  and  pulled  out  the  first-aid  kit  she  had  in  her  backpack.   This  fancy,   heavy  duty  thing  that  definitely  would  have  cost  like  a  hundred  bucks  pre-apocalypse.

“   Try  that  again,   with  a  thanks.   ”

#ROCHELLE » kill all sons of bitches. #ncvabcrn #'well that's too damn bad' sound somewhere in the background

[house-of-wack]

Ya boi, back at it again with another depressing ask. What do the survivors want their last words to be vs what they actually probably are?

Bill: "See you in Hell"

Francis: It has to be "I hate dying"

Zoey: "Fuck"

Louis: Whatever it is I hope I'm not alone.

-

Bill didn't stand a chance and he knew it; three tanks against an already injured tired old man? Not a hope in the world.

"Bill!" He did it for them. He'd do it a thousand times over to keep them safe. "Bill! Quick!"

"Hold y' horses!" He hacks out a cough "I'll be with ya's in a minute."

He wouldn't be. With a click he raises his weapon to one of the three monsters as it bursts into the room, fists raised. "Let's see what you've got, y' son of a bitch."

-

Rain pounded on the ground around Francis. That witch got him good, claws ripping straight through the delicate flesh of his abdomen; intestines, stomach, kidneys and liver all shredded.

"Francis?" Ah Hell.

"Hey come on man, look at me!" Shit shit shit.

He was going to be leaving Louis and Zoey all alone, huh?

Now that left a bitter taste in his mouth; or was that the blood rushing up his throat? He blinked open his eyes against the rain, Zoey was crying. She was crying and Francis knew he was the reason, he couldn't even raise a hand to brush the tears away.

"Y-you're an ugly crier." God was that his voice? Wheezed and breathless.

"Shut up, a-asshole." The hiccup in her speech made what was left of his guts clench.

"We have to stop the bleeding, you'll be fine!" Louis. Jesus they all knew this would not be fine but still the skinny shit placed his hands over the open wound and applied pointless pressure.

It wasn't going to help.

"I hate dying."

-

Zoey stared down at her glock. She couldn't do this. Bill, Francis... She couldn't take this anymore.

She glanced to the door. Louis. She couldn't leave him alone either. Her breathe caught in her throat as the urge to sob rose.

"Fuck." She bought the gun to her mouth.

"ZOEY!"

-

He was alone. His biggest fear was this. He didn't know what to do now, how to go further. He got to the next stafehouse, barely.

No jockeys or hunters, he caught the smoker before it caught him.

It was so quiet now. No chatter. There was no one around.

He wondered how the four from the bridge were doing... Probably better than this.

He heard the screech but couldn't bring himself to fight back as a set of feet slammed into his back, forcing him to the floor.

Claws dug into his flesh and began to tear and he couldn't hold back the scream. He was alone. No one would come.

No one did.

-

Ellis: Somethin' badass! Like if 'm goin' down I'm takin' y'all out with me!

Rochelle: Probably "Oops"

Nick: Talking shit like I always have. Bitter and sarcastic to the very end.

Coach: Strong silence, I ain't going down screaming.

-

They were told to face the wall but Nick's voice rang over theirs.

"If you're going to kill us you could atleast look us in the fucking eye."

His voice didn't even shake and Ellis wondered how he could do that until he felt a hand grasp his, cold rings squeezed his fingers and Ellis squeezed back.

The younger man raised his head and the tightness of his throat burned out, blinking the sheen of bitter tears from his eyes as he locked eyes with a chosen soldier. She shifted, uncomfortable.

Good.

His calloused hand grasped Rochells smaller one and squeezed.

She reached out and took Coach's.

They made it atleast. To evac, to CEDA.

Four red dots aimed between four pairs of eyes.

None of them were alone.

Found as a family and they would be ended as one.

"Steady!"

Rochelles fingers clung desperately to his as she clenched her jaw, but she wasn't afraid. Her eyes held nothing but anger. Anger at the stolen promise of rescue. She was not scared, wasn't when they first pointed their guns and started yelling orders and wasn't now. Her stages of grief came rapidly and now she sits on pissed off acceptance.

"Aim!"

Coach tipped his head back against the wall, he was tired. So God damn tired. He lead them here, he refused to listen to Nick about the writing on the walls. He dragged them to their execution. His glare was bitter, remourseful. He couldn't save any three of his crew and that would kill him before any bullet did.

"Hold!"

Nick's eyes betrayed nothing. His expression neutral, he'd accepted this outcome long ago. He had asked the other three if they would turn around, he had told them about the walls, he had reminded them of the lines up rows of dead /people/. Yet they still wanted to come, they still had hope where Nick knew there was none and he couldn't leave them to face that. He didn't abandon them like he thought he would, like he promised himself he would back at the hotel. He couldn't. They were his friends, his family. He knew his rings would leave bitten marks on his hicks skin.

"Fire!"

Ellis drew a shuddering breath. "Fuck you."

#oop #l4d #l4d2 #left 4 dead 2 #left 4 dead #left4dead #are you fucking sorry anon?

[lloyds-department-archive]

I am c u r i o u s about the prince and baker dsaf au,,,, might draw fanart

👀👀

Here anon I'll give you some info (I'll even link you to the story I'm writing in wattpad if youd like me to link that. just ask)

The Prince and the Baker takes place in the land of Fazbendia, where an odd, pink haired grey eyed man by the name of Henry rules as king. His son, Dave, is the prince. At the age of 19 Dave is sent to the village to find himself a bride because it is nearing time for Henry to step down as king and Dave needs to find a suitable girl to be his queen.

The village is a lovely place. Street performers dancing in the square, happy faces everywhere you look, and servants who've been improved using the means of futuristic technology. There's also a little building with the sign falling off. Welcome to Jack's Bakery. This is where Jack (aged 18) and his two young children, Suzanne and Richard, stay. Having lost the woman he married (neither would consider each other "husband and wife" as neither of them had any interest in the opposite gender) after the children were born, he had to figure out how to live on his own.

Cue the day the Prince visits. Jack's two children, aged three years old (they're twins here) beg to see him. Upon the prince arriving he mentions he'll need a place to stay the night. The children excitedly suggest he stay with them and their father, and after the town mocks the children for being silly the prince agrees.

The prince and the baker meet, and after several times of meeting the prince falls for the baker. Dave of course cant let his father know, as Henry's a lil bitch and said if Dave were to ever be with another man he'd kill that man and his family.

Once Dave and Jack begin a relationship, they HAVE to keep it a secret for fear of Jack being possibly murdered. 2 years pass and Harry, Jack's dearest friend, and Rochelle, Harry's wife and Jack's worst enemy, need bread.

Rochelle catches Dave and Jack in the act and she threatens to tell everyone.

This is all I will share with you, dear anon. If youd like the story told in a much better way, you can read it on Wattpad! You'll find character refs and information throughout the books and chapters with specific warning have the warnings listed at the tippy tip top of the page!

just ask and I can tell you things like the title and my username on wattpad

#ask #anon #davey au rambles #the prince and the baker dsaf au tag #W O O I LOVE TALKING ABOUT MY STUFF

[delakoks]

Dooo do do doOoOoo you have some headcanons for IDK ellis and nick but for others also??

Oh oh oh. Yes, I do, Anonzo. I’ve been playing this game for years sooo~~~ Of course, it’s mostly about Ellis and Nick, but, I think, I could remember few things about Coach and Ro too.

Let’s talk about Ellis first (cause he’s my favourite since the first game session yes). 

Freckles. I don’t know why I say about it first but anyways. This sunny boy definitely has some freckles on his nose and cheeks and his shoulders. They’re not so dark so they’re almost invisible. But they’re there. You can’t change my mind.

He’s pretty clumsy. Not the best thing in zombie-apocalypse hehe

Magnet for trouble

Ellis. Can. Sing. He’s not just a basist but also a back-vocalist. Sometimes in the zombie-apocalypse he murmurs some tunes to calm himself down.

Panromantic or pansexual. Easily falls in love (oh, wait, it’s canon lol). Virgin. I don’t think he ever had something more serious than a date or two.

All HUGS and soft touches. 

His childhood wasn’t easy. I believe he was raised by his mom, his dad either died or left family, so Ellis had to work since pretty young age to help his mom. Also maybe some problems with other children? Ellis’s so kind and naive, some kids definitely were assholes towards him. But look at this sunshine, you need something more than even a zombie-apocalypse to break him.

Ellis has a younger sister, they always make fun of each other, but love each other sooo much.

And Ellis can’t imagine the world without his family. He’ll give his life for them.

This boyo believes that he could help people, so many people.. And it’s killing him to learn that it’s not true. He doesn’t understand how (and don’t want to believe that) people could be so cruel and evil and violent. 

Nick.

He was married (canon again). She was a bitch, but he loved her. Simple story. When they finally got divorced she tried to take everything from Nick. And this was another lesson not to trust people. He had so many of those lessons so he became this hostile to other people.

Nick’s parents were really busy making careers and money but they never forgot about their son. So Nick recieved quality education and tried so many things in an attempt to find something he would like to do in his life. But it never worked out. He always was too adventurous and daredevil-ish.

Talking about education. Upper-intermediate italian, under-intermediate deutch, french and spanish.

Secretly loves hugs. Gives the best hugs you can imagine. Touch-starved.

Bisexual. And there is no way you can change my mind c;

And this man SINGS. FREAKING. AMAZING. Just listen to his voice. He definitely was a part of some rock band. (Thanks Hugh Dillon and Headstones)

Knows how to comfort people easily. Really good psychologist. But won’t do that for everybody, only for close people.

Baker. Uh huh. This man knows how to bake an amazing cake or pie from almost nothing.

Smoker. Bad habit to make your life in the zombie-apocalypse a looot harder. (and here we go with a relative headcanon about Nellis. That one time Nick finally found a pack of cigarettes and smoked.. and scared poor sleepy Ellis so much with nicotine smell. So he decided to quit smoking not to trigger kiddo, who had too much from Smokers)

Has a tattoo.

Is afraid of falling for someone but when he does (oh, wait, is it Nellis again?), oh my, he’ll fight the whole world to keep his loved one safe. He gives all of himself into relationship.

Rochelle.

Strong beautiful girl (canon!) who was so freaking tired of her work that the first thought about apocalypse that came to her mind was: ‘Oh, god, finally’. (believe me, I’m a professional journalist, it’s always that way XD)

She was raised in a big loving family with a few older siblings. Her brothers taught her self-defense. And sarcasm.

She always spent more time with boys than girls - school, university, work... She always can find words to defend herself. And if words won’t work - she has her knuckles C;

Ro tried to date different guys so many times but it never worked out. Either they were some boring assholes or.. idk. Maybe just assholes.

Eventhough she was the youngest in the family, she was the voice of reason. Ro always looked after her older brothers. That’s why she cares about Ellis so much - he reminds Rochelle of her brothers.

Ro always was an excellent student. Eventhough her behavior wasn’t so excellent :D

Coach.

He was/is married. Coach loves his wife very very much. They never had kids eventhough really wanted to.

Coach’s team was his family. He loved every one of those kiddos and was so proud of them. 

None of those kiddos were immune.

Coach was a professional sportsman but he was getting older so he decided to quit on the peak. Anyways he couldn’t just give up the passion of his life so he started train kiddos.

ok i guess i don’t have much for Coach oops

Welp. I’m one hundred percent sure I forgot about so many things. But here we are.

Thanks for the question!

#ask-box #nick #ellis #rochelle #coach

[ghoultyrant]

FoZ Notes 2

Continuing adventures in posting notes on Familiar of Zero. They’re still formatted primarily for my use, but hey other people might get something out of reading them.

----------------------------

Louise's home is 3 days ride from the academy. The lake with an island and some kind of building that Louise likes to hide in is canon. The father has retired from military duty, whatever that means given he's a medieval noble. Louise has a dream conflating Saito with Viscount Wardes. First clear sign from the story that she's Tsundereing at him.

... and Saito is convinced she loves him and is trying to do Japanese-style noncommunicative signaling of such. Because Saito is a moron, and doesn't understand that the culture he's in now is different from the one he grew up in. How, exactly, has he not cottoned on to that?

Oh god Saito stop being a rapist. Derflinger, stop encouraging him.

Jesus fuck Saito is a rapist.

Frankly, Louise's abuse of him following this is completely understandable. Holy fuck. [Reader note: yes, Saito attempts to have sex with Louise while she’s asleep on the idea that she wants him to do so. And Derflinger cheerleads this while stroking Saito’s ego. Saito makes everything worse]

Genoa, maximum security prison in the city of Tristain. I'm unsure why a faux-medieval culture has a maximum security prison? [Future note: we never hear about this place ever again after this]

Wood can't be transmuted. [Future note: I think this is never violated, actually. Then again, transmutation drops off in relevancy after this volume] Mages need wands to cast, except when they don't, because consistency.

Fouquet is also known as Mathilda. She's apparently an Albion noble whose father was, she claims, killed by the Albion royal family and her family's lands annexed by the same. She gets approached in prison by someone wanting to recruit her to fight for the Albion anti-royal revolution. He claims to be a part of a border-spanning group of nobles that wants to reunite Halkeginia into one empire, like Brimir made back in the day. [Reader note: Reconquistador is the name of the group, if the following notes don’t make that obvious]

Elves are east and control "the holy land".

Eventually Fouquet accepts, because otherwise the Reconquistador will just kill her. (Odd that we're using a Spanish name in a world with no Spain-expy) [Future note: the official translations seem to go with ‘Reconquista’, but I’m not sure why they would do that]

More casual social abuse of Louise. Claim that Kirche can't use water healing spells, playing around with Kirche's "runic name", but not actually connecting it to affinity or otherwise explaining why Louise would think such. [Future note: Eventually affinity-based stuff largely stops cropping up. This is probably for the best, as the author doesn’t use it for much of anything and can’t keep it straight anyway]

Louise has literally made Saito act as a dog because of his attempted rape. Whips him extensively, continuing to suggest the author has no clue how horrible a whipping is.

While people are uncomfortable with the whipping, at least the degree of it, nobody intervenes. Halkeginia is fucked up.

New teacher: Kaita the Gust. He's basically Snape. Massive ego. [Future note: I’d forgotten about this guy. I think all he does is deliver his nonsense about wind being the strongest element to set up for the Wind Clone Jutsu and then stop existing in the plot]

Henrietta has been visiting Germania, probably visiting the school on Brimir's birthday.

A unicorn "crossed" with a "crystal staff" is a symbol marking the carriage as Henrietta's. Her carriage is drawn by unicorns, which "legend" says only the purest of maidens can ride. [Future note: Later we have men riding unicorns without commentary or explanation. The author seems to just treat unicorns as ‘fancy-pants royal horses’]

Cardinal Mazarin has an even more ostentious carriage, showing who's got the power right now. "Rumored" to "have commoner blood". [Future note: This plotpoint never pays off] In spite of having his own carriage, rides with Henrietta??

Magic Imperial Guard is made of "most prominent" noble families. Male only. Question: how does this work, bar being based in taking only non-heir sons for its ranks?

Henrietta is "of course" a mage, royal blood. (Question: if it breeds that true, why are mages a minority?) [Future note: Answer? Because shut up] 17 years old. [Future note: Probably by Halkeginian standards, which would make her over 18 by our standards]

... okay Henrietta and Mazarin playing off of each other is legitimately great. [Future note: This doesn’t last]

The two of them know about the Reconquistadors, establish that they [The Reconquistadors] may win in Albion any day now. Albionese royalty is all family to Henrietta, Germania not so much. Albion is the "White Country." It is one of three countries whose royal family apparently traces back to Brimir's time, supposedly bestowed by him outright. (Interesting variation on Divine Right to Rule) [Future note: Wait, three? I’d think it would be four]

Mazarin takes a surprisingly Survival of the Fittest mentality to royal families. If they can't handle their shit, they "don't deserve to exist." Harsh.

The alliance with Germania is supposedly intended to protect Tristain from the Reconquistadors.

Wardes shows up, mounted on a Griffon. Interestingly, he has a long beard. Mustache, too. The Mage Guard apparently has three divisions, of of which rides Griffons. Wardes is "the Lightning".

... Saito is so stupid that he thinks his rape being rebutted means he can't be jealous of a man who has Louise's attention. How are you this retarded, Saito?

Saito molests Louise. Goddammit.

Henrietta shows up in secrecy at Louise's room. Louise drops into formality, because Duty And Honor. Henrietta wants to have SOMEONE who can be informal with her!

... Henrietta manipulates, rather transparently, Louise into asking what her problem is. Dammit. This leads into "Louise, go get my love letter to Prince Wales for me, so as to prevent scandal wrecking my Germanian marriage I don't even want". Except she refuses to reveal the contents.

Louise voluntarily decides to depart immediately. School? Whatever!

Guiche is in love with Henrietta... volunteers to go on the mission, having eavesdropped. Huh.

Henrietta gives Louise a "Water Ring" that was her mother's, calls it a good luck charm and explicitly tells Louise she can sell it if she needs funds. Wow, Henrietta.

Guiche's familiar is a mole the size of "a small bear", called Verdandi. He thinks it's adorable.

Wardes is assigned to the group...

Port City La Rochelle: two days ride from Tristain-the-city. So closer than the Valliere estate. Fouquet hires a bunch of mercenaries on white-mask's orders. White-mask informs the men that if they run in battle, he will Commissar them himself. [Reader note: In the 40k sense]

Griffons tire slowly?

... so no, the Guard is NOT sensibly designed. Viscount Wardes is his family's head, and became a Griffon Knight AFTER his father died. Goddammit.

Louise literally forgot about her engagement prior to the dream reminding her. Surprisingly, she's actually questioning whether she loves Wardes or not!

Kirche and Tabitha have been following our morons the whole time.

Kirche woke Tabitha up to follow, and Tabitha didn't even bother changing out of her pajamas. Louise, for some goddamn reason, reveals that they're on a secret mission from Her Majesty. It's not secret if you tell everyone about it!

Kirche then hits on Wardes for no reason. This is "the first time" a "male" has turned her down flatly, somehow. She didn't realize Wardes is Louise's fiancee. She's quick to move on and latch back onto Saito afterward, because she thinks Saito is jealous. She wants to be wanted?

Wardes recognizes the Gandalfr runes on sight. Tries to convince Louise she's awesome because she can "control" such a one. Claims it proves she has great magic. WTF, Wardes? [Future note: In retrospect this makes even less sense]

Louise is 16 years old. (Wardes, thus, is 26) one year younger than Henrietta, and actually fairly old/adult by medieval standards. [Future note: I think the math puts Wardes at 30 or so in Earth years]

Louise knows Siesta often feeds Saito. So Louise is apparently willing to pretend ignorance when others soften the cruelty of her actions? Interesting. [Future note: Louise is later flanderized such that this is unimaginable of future Louise]

Apparently just holding a weapon can be exploited to turn you into a ninja. Okay?

Derflinger has an odd habit of making weird comparisons.

Inconsistent treatment of "potential fall from two stories" -is it mild, amusing semi-violence or is it genuinely potentially lethal? [Reader note: As in, the story has people both reacting like such a fall is potentially serious and acting like pushing someone off a flying dragon is something plausible to do in good fun]

Wardes claims he dug through a royal library to find out Saito was the Gandalfr.

Wait, the hotel is an ex-castle? Huh.

Derflinger has 180-ed, going from "I'm a sword, so romance is incomprehensible to me" to constantly making remarks about Saito's love life. Consistency! [Future note: It gets worse]

One moon is white, the other... is pink?... and apparently Albion's motion through the sky is connected to lunar cycles??

Louise explicitly saying her treatment of Saito is because she's a noble and is trying to prevent rumors. Honor And Duty.

Louise claiming she wouldn't lie because she's a noble. Honor And Duty.

Fouquet showing up, which admittedly is fairly plausible since Albion-accessing-port etc.

Kirche doing this weird Japanese frenemy thing of "just to be clear, this thing I am doing to help you is not actually a thing I am doing to help you, I TOTALLY have a selfish reason." Ugh. [Future note: So yes we’ve gone from Kirche is a horrendous bitch to Kirche is a frenemy in one volume, and later the story drops the ‘frenemy’ thing entirely and just has Kirche friends with Louise outright. It’s as dumb as it sounds]

At this point I'm pretty sure the "one spell manipulation at a time" thing the fan-thread brings up is bullshit, at least in regard to golem mechanics. [Reader note: I read a thread on Spacebattles summarizing FoZ canon info before starting reading the story. The thread makes the story seem more consistent than it actually is] Also, Kirche is a moron putting on makeup in combat.

How is "roflstomping our attackers" a DISTRACTION?

... why the fuck does setting a golem on fire with OIL result in it sinking to its knees, where before the golem simply ignored the flames? And why are we doing Comedy Burning for Fouquet? [Future note: Eventually the story stops mixing Comedy Violence in with Serious Violence. This is one of the very few ways things improve]

A griffon can't make the flight to Albion, supposedly. Given it tirelessly flew overland, I'm a bit skeptical. Oddly, Wardes sort of implies a dragon could make that distance. [Future note: Whether or not it’s plausible to fly to Albion with any given flight ability remains entirely dependent on the whims of the writer far into the future. Eventually it stops being an issue by virtue of the plot largely ignoring Albion, not by virtue of the author becoming any more consistent]

Sleep spell involve blue-white smoke. Or possibly green-white, because Japanese. [Reader note: Historically Japanese had one word covering both blue and green. Nowadays it’s reserved for one of the two... except when it isn’t]

Louise is surprisingly quick to tear her sleeves to use as rags. [Future note: This kind of practicality on the parts of characters goes away eventually]

Louise refuses to be depressed as long as there's the slightest chance to survive. Kick ass. [Future note: Another trait that vanishes]

Louise has no Honor And Duty problem with lying to scum. Surprisingly practical of her. Wardes finds her saying that unbecoming, though he doesn't actually dispute the opinion. [Future note: Future Louise is a bad liar because who cares about consistency?]

... the pirate captain is Prince Wales. Uh. Okay.

Magic royal rings that react to each other. Water for Tristain, Wind for Albion. [Future note: This ‘reacting to each other’ thing never crops up again]

Wales has 300 men to fight 50,000. You're not Spartan enough if you think you can't win!

The Albionese nobles refuse to take the opportunity to flee on the Eagle when offered. This includes the women?

Wales refuses to flee to Henrietta BECAUSE he loves her and knows it would just be used to justify an invasion.

Wardes wanting to marry Louise on Albion, Wales as their whatever, is indeed canon. He also contradicts his earlier claim that the Griffon couldn't make it, Saito calls him on it... and Wardes' response is that it will be exhausted afterward. Uh. Either the author or Wardes is ignoring the obvious point that going UP is different from gliding DOWN.

Louise finds it upsetting that someone would seemingly value something higher than the one you love, proving she didn't understand Wales earlier and also proving she hasn't connected said thought to Henrietta sending her on this mission.

Saito finally is less of a piece of shit. [Future note: No no, before you get too excited, this character development I’m implying here? It doesn’t last]

Narrative explicitly informing us of Derflinger pretending greater ignorance than he actually has.

Interestingly, the wedding is the moment Louise realizes she needs to make decisions, herself. Implies she's been coasting up until this point.

Wardes seems to know she's a Void mage, seems to want to marry her for it, wants to rule the world or something? Having a bit of a breakdown when faced with Louise's refusal, contrasting starkly with his eternal calm before.

Saito can see through Louise's eyes because of fucking course. [Future note: Astoundingly, the plot occasionally remembers this plotpoint later on]

Louise 180s once she learns Wardes only wants her for her power. Sorry, girl, you're a noble. That's how your life goes.

Wardes is a Reconquistador, was on the trip to marry Louise, get the letter, and kill Wales. Also "prepared two complete spells" already. Seriously, what are the rules here? [Future note: The rules are “whatever the author thinks is coolest or most dramatic in this particular scene”] The white-masked man is just Wardes' Shadow Wind Clone. Wardes reveals this because fuck you writing good is hard.

Derflinger "remembers" that Gandalfr is his partner and that he's an antimagic sword. Sure, "remembers". [Future note: Derflinger’s memory operates on the rule of “Whatever is most convenient to whatever the author wants to write at this very moment”. I preferred it when I thought he was lying about his bad memory] He glows more when sucking in magic.

Also, no explanation for how Saito literally Kool-Aid-Manned his way into the chapel. Dialogue suggests that tapping Louise's sight gave him hearing, too, because why not?

Gandalfr is literally emotion-powered. A Necron Lord would be a miserable Gandalfr. [Reader note: When I started reading I was sort of considering writing a Necron Lord-as-Familiar story, even though it’s been done at least twice. Hence this note]

That dragon comment earlier turned out to be foreshadowing: Sylphid was able to fly the distance.

... and Saito kisses Louise when he thinks she's asleep because he's still a rapey bastard. Ugh. [Future note: Saito stops with the incessant rape-y-ness... but this is because all the women, everywhere, are throwing themselves at him. It’s not because he stops being horrible]

End volume 2.

--------

The arc is basically Henrietta's mission, with some sideplot stuff happening along the way.

#Familiar of Zero #Notes

[bullshfters-blog]

tag dump ! 

#✘ MECHANIC BASS PLAYER –––– 【 ELLIS. 】 #✘ GAMBLER –––– 【 NICK. 】 #✘ PRODUCER –––– 【 ROCHELLE. 】 #✘ HEALTH TEACHER –––– 【 COACH. 】 #✘ WE ARE A RIGHT DAMN GOOD TEAM –––– 【 SURVIVORS. 】 #✘ SOMEONE GONNA ANSWER THAT –––– 【 ASK. 】 #✘ KILL ALL SONS OF BITCHES –––– 【 VERSE. 】 #✘ FIGHT THE DEAD / FEAR THE LIVING –––– 【 VERSE. 】 #✘ DEATH IS NOT AN ESCAPE –––– 【 VERSE. 】 #✘ –––– 【 MEME. 】 #✘ –––– 【 AES. 】 #✘ –––– 【 ISMS. 】 #✘ MIDNIGHT RIDERS –––– 【 TUNES. 】 #✘ THEY’RE NOT ZOMBIES THEY’RE TELETUBBIES –––– 【 OOC. 】

[anavoliselenu]

Creighton chapter 18

His eyes turn soft in a way I don’t remember seeing before. His words are soft too.

“That’s not what I want. I just want you in my arms for a minute before the craziness of tonight kicks off.”

I close the distance between us and melt against him. The warmth rushing through me from his words turns to molten need when he whispers into my hair.

“But later? Things are going to get as dirty as you can handle.” His hand slides down my back and cups my ass, his fingers curling into the crease between my cheeks. “We’re going to keep working you up to a bigger plug so I can finally fuck this tight little asshole.”

He pulls me against his groin, and the hard, hot length of his cock sends flares of arousal ripping through me when it grinds against my center. I want to dry hump him until I come.

So I do. It takes all of three minutes, with the pressure of his fingers against my ass. Stepping away on shaky legs, I know my cheeks must be flushed, and my hair has to be a disaster.

“I need to go back to Rochelle and Chris to touch up,” I whisper.

Justin’s smile is superior, but I’m too content to want to slap it off his face.

“You do that. I’ll see you after the meet and greet.” His gaze turns sharp. “And don’t give Marcus any shit this time about standing so close. He can be out of the picture, but I want him right there in case some fucker tries to make a move on you. Those lips are mine, and I don’t share.”

He snags my hand, tugs me back close, and pulls me into a kiss before steadying me once again.

I gather myself and then salute. “Sir, yes, sir.”

He slaps me on the ass, and I stride out of the room on clicking heels.

I’m watching Selena kill her set in Biloxi from what has become my normal place, leaning against a speaker, stage left. From this vantage point, it’s clear to me that the arenas are filling sooner at each venue, almost in time with the buzz that has continued to grow in the media about Selena. The stories are focusing more on her and her career now, which is as it should be. People come as curiosity seekers, but even I can tell from the rapt look on their faces that they’re leaving as fans.

Right now, Selena has the attention of every single person in the place. People are on their feet, singing along to every single word. Just like every night before, I continue to be in awe of her talent. My wife is a fucking rock star. Well, country star would be more appropriate.

The deep drawl from behind me alerts me to the presence of Boone Thrasher.

“If you keep staring at her like that, you’re going to be handing over the keys to your vault, because that woman will know she owns you.”

“What are you doing out of your little kingdom before your set?” I ask, glancing at him for only a moment, because I don’t want to miss a beat of Selena.

“If you think you’re the only one who knows she’s a hell of a talent when you see it, then you’re wrong. I try to get out here and catch one of her songs every once in a while, but tonight I came out because I had to see for myself that you’re just standing here like a smitten kid. People are talkin’, you know.”

I tear my eyes off Selena to stare him down. “And why would I give a fuck about that?”

“I’m just sayin’, the bitch knows she’s got you by the balls, you’ll have no leverage. And I’m guessing a guy like you is all about leverage.”

“What’s your point, Thrasher?”

“No point. Just offering a word of wisdom. My woman has me wrapped up pretty neat too, but I don’t let her know it.”

“I thought you told me I’d better treat her right or you’d be on me?” I vaguely recall his warning from the first day we met, three long days ago.

He cracks the knuckles of his tattooed hand inside the other. “Fuckin’ right I will. But that don’t mean you gotta be showin’ all your cards, man. This is a strategy game, after all.”

I laugh, because I feel like I’m the one who should be giving this guy advice. “You ever been married before?”

His chuckle booms out, but the sounds of the bass guitar and drums ensure only I can hear it.

“Nope. That’s why I’m giving you advice, Richie Rich. You’ve already failed at this shit, from what I hear. I’m doing the marriage thing once, and that’s it. Thought maybe you’d been all lapdog and pussy whipped before, and that’s how you fucked it up. Ladies want to know their man is theirs, but they don’t want someone trailin’ after ’em like a schoolboy.”

“Thanks for the advice, but I think I’m good. You worry about yourself getting pussy-whipped, and I’ll worry about Selena.”

Thrasher shrugs, but doesn’t drop it. “You don’t know girls like her, Karas. She’s not your high-society type. She’s never gonna be easy around your money or your people. Even if she’s sipping champagne out of platinum cowboy boots, she’ll never lose that backwoods girl. You sure you’re okay with that? Because if you’re not, it’d be kinder to let her go now before she falls for you.”

There are so many responses I can give to what he just said, but I don’t reply because I’m stuck on his last words. “Before she falls for you.” Because she hasn’t yet.

It’s a sobering reality check. I’ve decided what we have is the real thing, and Selena . . . I have no frigging clue what she thinks. The only place she’ll let her guard down is in the bedroom—or wherever we happen to be when I’m giving her every bit of pleasure she can handle. I know how to seduce my wife, but how the hell do I break down her walls? How do I get her to trust me?

“Oh shit!” Thrasher yells as a fan throws himself onstage only a few feet from where Selena stands. I lunge forward, but Thrasher grabs my arm. “No, man, not your fight this time.”

Security is on the guy before he can reach his fingertips out to touch the toe of her boots, and he’s dragged away.

Selena barely misses a beat, finishing the last chorus of the song while the band plays on. When the music finally quiets, she speaks into her microphone. “Well, I guess he really liked that one, didn’t he, ya’ll?” The crowd cheers even louder, and she flashes a wide smile and launches into the final song on the set list.

I shake off Thrasher’s arm and turn to him. “Don’t you ever try to get between me and Selena. You get me, Thrasher? Not here, not anywhere.”

My tone promises violence, as my rage at his interference pulses to the surface. She’s my woman. I will fucking protect her from everyone and everything.

Thrasher just shakes his head. “You’ve got a lot to learn, man, especially about her. She’s a strong woman. She doesn’t need you to save her. Hell, she found a way to use you to save herself. Don’t ever underestimate her because it’ll be the biggest mistake you make, I can promise you that. Country girls got grit like you couldn’t imagine.”

“You think I don’t know she’s fucking special?” I gesture to the stage. “She’s a goddamn goddess out there, and I’d have to be blind to miss it.”

Thrasher nods. “Good, and don’t you fucking forget it.” He turns to walk back toward the hallway that leads to his designated room, and then pauses. “You should both come out with us tonight. We’re gonna hit up one of my favorite bars. Play some horseshoes in the pits out back. Let’s see if you can hang with the country boys.”

The last thing I want to do tonight is go out and hang with this cocky punk who thinks he knows more about Selena than I do, but something keeps me from saying no. Instead, I punt.

“I’ll leave that up to Selena.”

“Pussy-whipped motherfucker.”

The words are tossed over Thrasher’s shoulder, and I flip off his back as he walks away. I don’t like the son of a bitch, but then again, I don’t exactly hate him either. He’s looking out for Selena, and that I have to respect.

But horseshoes? Really?

“She’s kicking your ass, man!”

“You’re on his team, which means she’s kicking your ass too!”

The guys in my band are getting no end of amusement from ribbing the crap out of Justin during our game of horseshoes at Boone’s favorite bar outside Biloxi. I couldn’t believe it when Justin deferred to me about whether or not we join them rather than scooping me up and carrying me off to the bus, like he did the other nights after I finished up “That Girl” during Boone’s set.

Tonight, Justin was waiting offstage with a beer and a smile. The beer was his, because I was still on the “tour diet from hell,” but he handed it over anyway and told me that Boone invited us out and he was leaving it up to me to decide.

In all honesty, my lady parts kind of need a break from the nonstop banging that we’ve been doing, and after-show sex is turning into the most energetic kind. So I said yes, partially out of self-preservation.

Now I’m wondering if I made the right choice. Justin isn’t exactly showing any signs of wanting to commit murder, though. He’s just sipping on a beer and shrugging off the comments.

Finally, he says, “Since my ass is hers, she can kick it whenever she wants.”

His words come just as I’m swinging to toss my horseshoe and the throw goes wild, nearly kneecapping Boone.

He jumps back out of the way, his beer splashing out of the bar’s trademark red Solo cups. “Shit, woman. Watch your throw!”

But I’m not paying attention to Boone. I couldn’t care less about him, his kneecaps, or his beer. I’m staring at Justin, trying to interpret what that comment meant. My ass is hers.

Is he truly in this for real? I mean, he’s said that I’m his, but it’s never really been a mutual sort of ownership like you’d have in a “real” marriage. Or is living in the middle of a tour, where we’ve finally found our rhythm, messing with his head?

All I know is that I’m scared to hope that this might last. Hope is a dangerous thing, and when it comes to Justin, I’m terrified to gamble everything. This man has the power to wreck me.

Even as the thoughts circle my brain and I reach for the next horseshoe, I know I’m full of crap. It’s already too late. I’ve placed my bet, and it’s my heart that’s on the line.

A week later

It almost feels strange to know that I’m not getting back on a tour bus in a few hours. I can honestly say this has been a fascinating experience. Ten days, seven cities, and the constant reinforcement that I’m married to a woman of incredible talent. Experiencing Selena in her element has been eye-opening. She’s got grit and drive, and works harder than my hardest-working executive.

But as confident and bold as she’s been on tour, the moment we landed in New York City this morning, she drew into herself and uncertainty bloomed. I just need to close the deal, get this charity thing out of the way, and then I’ll be able to get her accustomed to this part of her life, her future. I need her to be comfortable here, because if I get my way, we’ll split our time between New York and wherever she needs to be. Wherever she chooses to be.

My pen hovers over the signature line of the document that will ensure no one will ever dictate to Selena again about her career. Never again will anyone have that kind of power over her.

I scrawl my signature on the line, and it’s done. Homegrown Records is mine.

We agreed to the initial terms of the deal the day Selena walked out on me in New York. I was so caught up in negotiations that I didn’t stop to take her call. Those negotiations were critical, heavily featuring her and her contract, and the fact that during the weeks between signing and closing, the execs couldn’t do a goddamn thing that would negatively affect her. It was a rookie husband mistake that almost cost me more than losing the deal would have.

But having both of those fuckers at the table in front of me brought out a protective side of me I never knew existed. With every snide comment about how they lifted Selena out of some sad existence and gave her a shot through their show, I grew more and more determined to have their resignations in my hand.

She was a girl who didn’t know better and had nothing to lose when she signed their heavy-handed agreement. Knowing Selena now, they could have put anything in that contract, and she would have agreed to it just to have a shot at her dream. The fact that they continued to jerk her around with the JC situation was unconscionable. They deserved to be tossed out of the industry, in my opinion.

“Hope you know what you’re doin’, boy.”

I look up at Morty, the paunchy executive I’m tempted to have blackballed from the industry starting today. His threats over what he could do to Selena’s career had me wanting to rip his throat from his neck during negotiations. The fact that he’s trying to bait me just shows what an idiot he is.

“He doesn’t have a clue what he’s doin’,” Jim, Morty’s sidekick, says. “All he knows is this is the surest way to own that woman lock, stock, and barrel. You think she’s going to be happy that you did this? Mark my words, she’ll want your balls in a sling.”

I pin them both with a glare that would have smarter men shaking in their fancy, spit-shined cowboy boots. “You’re dead fucking wrong about my motivations, and if I gave a shit what you thought, I’d correct you. But since I don’t, I think it’s time you hand over those resignations and get on your way.”

I shove the final documents aside, not concerned in the slightest about his prediction. Selena will understand that this has nothing to do with ownership or control, and everything to do with setting her free from these pricks who’ve been running her life. And if she doesn’t get that, then I’ll help her understand.

The men stand, Morty glaring daggers at me and Jim looking amused, but I don’t give a fuck. I don’t waste another thought on them as they exit the room. I just want to go home, kick back on the couch with my wife in my lap and a beer in my hand, but that can’t happen anytime soon, thanks to the charity event I’ve committed us to.

Once the room clears of lawyers and the former record execs, Cannon and I are left alone. He wastes no time.

“Well, Crey, I think you got a hell of a deal, but I don’t think you know what you’re doing either. We have to learn this industry from the bottom up, and we only scratched the surface during diligence.”

He’s been on hand to sign several of the documents in his capacity as vice president of the new entity I formed for the sole purpose of this acquisition. One not under the umbrella of Karas International, like all of my other companies. One that I own one hundred percent of personally, because never before has an acquisition been this personal to me.

“Is that supposed to be news to me?”

“I’m just saying—”

“Everything you’ve already said before. And it’s getting old.” I rise out of the leather conference room chair and tuck my pen into the inside pocket of my suit jacket. “I have a beautiful woman waiting for me, and if I get home in time, she might still be strolling around the house in her lingerie.”

Cannon smirks at me. “Now there’s a thought.”

“Get it out of your fucking brain.”

He holds both hands up in a pacifying gesture. “Jeez. I’m just fucking with you, Crey. No different from what we’ve always done.”

I stiffen when I realize that even my best friend doesn’t get it. “She’s different. Everything about this is different.”

“Come on. You didn’t even know the woman when you posted that ludicrous ad. It’s only been a couple of weeks. There’s no way in hell you can know that it’s different.”

There have been several times in the past when Cannon and I haven’t seen eye to eye. If we can’t settle things with a logical discussion, we usually opt for beating the shit out of each other in a boxing ring. I open my mouth to argue, but snap it shut just as quickly.

I don’t need to justify this to him; I don’t even need his fucking support. I know what I’ve got with Selena, and that’s not changing, even if his opinion doesn’t.

I turn and leave the room with his confused “What the fuck, man?” following me out.

Selena is already wearing her dress for the charity event when I enter the bedroom. She’s absolutely breathtaking, and I can’t get over what a lucky son of a bitch I am.

If sex could be painted on a body, that’s what this dress would be. Red satin, hugging her every curve from her shoulders to just below her knees before it flares into a little mermaid-looking thing. I have no earthly idea how the fuck she’s going to walk in it, but I don’t care. I’ll fucking carry her.

She’s surveying herself in the mirror when her eyes dart to mine in the reflection.

“What do you think? Should I wear the black one?” She motions to the long black dress hanging from the valet rod in the closet.

“Don’t you dare take that dress off.”

Her eyes snap back to mine. “Wha—”

I close in behind her, reaching into my pocket to pull out the gift I purchased at Harry Winston earlier in the day. I bring my arms around her, letting the diamond collar rest against her neck.

Her chest rises and falls as she looks in the mirror. “Holy. Shit. Please tell me those are CZs.”

“Afraid I can’t do that, babe.”

Her eyes widen so much that I’m a little worried she’s going to hurt herself. She lifts a hand to her neck after I engage the clasp, but her fingers stop short of touching the diamonds.

“It’s not going to bite.”

She spins around to face me. “Please tell me it’s rented only for tonight, and you’re taking it back tomorrow.”

“Afraid I can’t do that either.”

“You have to take it back.”

Now the conversation is growing tedious. “It’s not going anywhere but around your neck.”

“Why in God’s name would you spend that kind of money on me?”

“Because I can.”

“Are you trying to make me feel like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman?”

I look at her, confusion flooding me. “What are you talking about?”

“The movie. Pretty Woman. She’s a hooker and he’s a millionaire. There’s this scene with a necklace. It’s pretty freaking famous, Crey.”

“I don’t see the comparison. You’re not a hooker; you’re my wife. I can buy you whatever the hell I want. That’s my right,” I say.

To myself I add, Including a fucking record label.

Selena slips around me and stalks to the floor-to-ceiling windows. Pressing a hand to the glass, she stares down at the lights of the city and off toward Central Park.

I follow her. “It’s only money, Selena. I’ve got plenty. If I want to spoil you, I will.”

Once again I’m taking in her reflection, but this time, there are tears running down her face.

“Whoa. Why the tears?” I lay my hands on her shoulders and turn her to face me. My thumbs catch the drops as they fall. “If you hate it that much, we can get you something different.”

Selena reaches up and moves my hands away from her face before using the side of her index finger to swipe away the remaining moisture without destroying her makeup.

“God, I’m sorry. I’m a frigging disaster.”

“You’re beautiful. As soon as I saw you standing in front of that mirror, I knew I’d never seen a more beautiful woman in my life.”

Her lips wobble into a sad smile. “And here I was looking in the mirror, thinking that the only thing that would make this dress more perfect would be my gran’s pearls that my gramps brought her home from Japan after the war.” Her smile falters and disappears. “But that can never happen now.”

“Why not?”

“Because the sheriff called to tell me that apparently when they picked Mama up for her B&E, it was actually her second trip into Gran’s house, and she’d apparently just come back from the pawn shop.”

“What did she take?” I ask, hating Selena’s tears and the crazy feeling of helplessness they give me. Whatever her mom took, I’ll get it back if the police haven’t already.

“From what the pawnbroker said, most or all of Gran’s jewelry. The jewelry that I was too careless to get a safe deposit box to store because I assumed it was safe locked up and hidden in her house. But Mama knew where the special hiding spots were, and she wasn’t shy about snatching it. She probably thought she was entitled to it anyway. She was her mama, after all.”

“So if the pawnbroker reported it to the police, then they recovered it already?” Confusion edges my tone because I feel like I’m missing something here.

Selena shakes her head. “No, the pawnbroker didn’t realize it was stolen until he heard about my mama being arrested today when he was at bowling league. He sold her locket, her earrings, and the pearl necklace.”

My confusion gives way to anger. “Shouldn’t he be held responsible by the police? They have an obligation to hold things for a period of time to ensure they’re not stolen, I thought.” I don’t know the ins and outs of the pawn business, but I would assume that’s the smartest choice.

Once again, Selena’s face falls. “He didn’t even consider it was a possibility. My mama probably sold him some line of bull. I don’t know. But they’re gone.”

“I’m sorry, baby.”

“Gran was the first person in my life to actually give a shit about me, and I feel like I’ve failed her again.” Her whole body is racked with shudders.

“Selena—” I say, trying to interrupt and calm her down, but she doesn’t stop.

“It’s not about the jewelry, that’s just one more example of how many bad decisions I’ve made. Leaving her with my mama to go on the show . . . that was the ultimate mistake. I made that choice. I decided to take my one shot. And it cost me everything that mattered. When am I going to stop messing up?” She turns and presses her palms against the glass again.

I step behind her and wrap my arms around her middle, pulling her back into my body. I want to hold her up, infuse her with my strength.

I hate seeing this strong woman edge toward breaking. The first time she told me the story about her grandmother and what happened, I watched from the sidelines while Selena grieved. I’m not willing to remain on the sidelines ever again when it comes to her.

“I’m so fucking sorry, baby. I wish I could go back and change it all for you. If I had the power to do that, I would.” My words are rusty and harsh, coming from a place deep inside me never touched before Selena.

Her body relaxes into me for a beat before she straightens. “It’s something I have to live with. The best tribute I can give her is to succeed, to make her proud.”

She turns to face me, and I can almost see her pulling the layers of her armor back over herself. As much as I hate seeing her raw like this, there’s something almost heart-stopping about having a window into her soul. When her dark brown eyes shutter, I hate that even more.

“I better go fix my face if we’re going to make it on time.”

“We don’t have to go.” I’m not willing to skip the event to indulge myself, but when it comes to Selena, I’m willing to break all my own rules.

She twists out of my hold, shaking her head. “I’ll be fine. Besides, it won’t be the last time I lose it over this. It’s something I have to live with for the rest of my life. We all have to make choices; I just didn’t know that I’d be losing the only person who will ever care about me that much. Life’s a bitch that way.”

The whole time she’s speaking, she’s walking backward across the room, and with her final declaration, she disappears from my sight, down the hallway toward the master suite.

But her words still hang in the air, haunting me and taunting me in equal measure. I have more money than I can spend in five lifetimes, but I can’t give Selena the one thing she desperately wants. It’s a forcefully humbling reality.

The next thought that flashes through my brain is equally sobering.

She’s wrong.

Her gran is not the only person who will ever care about her that much.

I sip my glass of champagne and survey the moneyed crowd filling the Museum of Modern Art. After my breakdown earlier, I had to completely redo my makeup. Nothing like a couple of swipes of foundation and concealer to cover the layers of grief and guilt.

Too bad it can’t hide my country girl awkwardness at attending an event that’s so far out of my league. The last thing I want to do tonight is screw up and make some social blunder that will embarrass Justin and end up in the papers.

I skim over the crowd, taking in the dark-hued designer dresses and diamonds that aren’t as flashy as the ones around my neck. I wasn’t sure what to expect of this thing, but now that we’ve been here for ten minutes, I’ve recognized more faces than I ever would have expected.

There must be at least a hundred people here who are more famous than me, not that I consider myself actually famous at all. The number of them who probably knew who I was—before Justin married me? I’m guessing that number is in the single digits.

Not too many good ole boys who are used to sitting on tailgates with a beer in one hand and a spit bottle in the other, that’s for sure. I think it’s also safe to say there is no overlap in this crowd with the Country Dreams target demographic.

In other words, I’m completely out of my depth. Even after being in the public eye for months, this kind of situation unnerves me. I’m much more at home on a stage in front of my kind of people. People who want to listen to music that tells stories about people just like them. Instead, I’m standing at an event that costs about the same as a brand-new S-10 pickup to attend.

It doesn’t help that I can’t get Garth Brooks’s “Friends in Low Places” out of my head. At least I made it past the cameras outside the entrance without incident. That was something.

The walkway was covered with a fine dusting of snow, and I was positive that I’d bite it if I didn’t cling to Justin’s arm like a drunk monkey. So cling, I did.

And then I nabbed a glass of champagne from a passing server’s tray at the first opportunity. Liquid courage. I need a lot more of it in order to get through tonight.

For the first time since I married Justin, I feel like arm candy. That’s not to say that Justin has given me any reason to feel like that, but I can’t help it. He introduced me and tried to include me in conversation, but my answers were awkward and short.

I need to get my shit together so I can fool them and make him proud. Maybe I can hire one of those acting coaches and learn to bluff my way through things like this? It’s never going to come naturally to me. I just don’t belong in this crowd.

And from the stares of the women that dart away as soon as I accidentally make eye contact, it’s clear they know I don’t belong either. I can just imagine what they’re whispering as they tilt their heads toward one another.

Yes, she’s the girl he married after a one-night stand. Do you think he had any idea she would be so out of place?

Or I bet he’s wishing he’d stuck to his own kind.

Or maybe even, I’ll be ready to swoop in once he’s bored with her.

In their black dresses, they look like a flock of crows just waiting to swoop in on the carnage they expect my marriage with Justin to become.

On any other day, I’d like to think this would strengthen my resolve to prove them wrong, but tonight, I’m feeling too raw, and it’s a fight just to conceal my weaknesses.

Justin shakes hands and talks business with several more people, and I keep clinging and smiling. I don’t understand what the hell they’re talking about, and my cheeks already hurt. We’ve only been here for twenty minutes, and already I can’t wait to leave.

I force my anxieties away. I’m here because this is important to Justin. I listen with half an ear as the conversation turns to some new investment that a close-talking guy in a tux and red plaid bowtie thinks Justin should invest in.