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theimperiumchronicles · 1 year

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❤️ Happy WorldBuilding Wednesday! ❤️

What are your cities or towns like? Feel free to talk about the layouts or the people or the architecture, etc. and to talk about more than one if you'd like!

Ooooooh, thank you for asking this. This isn't something I ever think to post, but definitely have laid out in my head and is described somewhat in different stories. <3 I'll describe for the different realms that are not Earth, because obviously I am not changing anything other than making up some town names, shop names, businesses, restaurants, etc. that is common in fiction.

IMPERIUM

Imperium is a mashup of a whole bunch of cultures. Capital City would remind someone of Venice. The water flowing in the canals is black, but the buildings are reminiscent of those in the Italian city. The Palace, which is in the center of the city, is currently a close copy of the Palace of Versailles. However, much like the TARDIS, it is bigger and more complex on the inside. The Palace is actually a living, breathing, sentient being that connects with the regents that rule it and can alter the interior as needed. This also means that if invaded, the Palace is capable of altering itself to confound invaders and protect those within it as well. However, it has a "virus" in one wing that will come to light later...and whether it can be cured is yet to be seen.

Other villages in the realm reflect the beings that inhabit them. All manners of supernatural and preternatural beings from all belief systems that have ever existed on Earth reside in Imperium. There are a couple of levels, all of which are residential. Those levels of the former "Hell" that would be deemed tortuous, are now in Caligo. We'll get to that. The homes in the villages would reflect the culture that the beings inhabiting them are from, as well as possibly the time period of which they were revered. For instance, Bastet has a vacation home in one of the deserts of the realm, it is a small pyramid with obsidian cat statues decorating the exterior and two jade effigies of her at the entrance. She may be a bit vain. *winks* She also runs a cat cafe in New Orleans.

There are laws within Imperium, there always have been. They have kept the realm from devolving into chaos. While the realm is hedonistic, it's not uncommon for there to be sex, drugs, drunkenness in the streets, violence amongst the residents is not allowed. Feuds have to be settled out of the realm. Also, humans are not to be killed in the realm. Beings that consume humans as food must slaughter their food elsewhere and cannot prey upon any human in the realm. More on this will come later.

Animals in the realm range from resembling those on earth, to things completely foreign. There are cute animals that are harmless and sweet, as well as those that are violent and vicious. Just like on Earth, different animals inhabit different areas of the realm. A glimpse of this was given in the sneak peak of Amaya and the chinchirpas that look like a cross between a rabbit and a chinchilla that has shark teeth. Some like those will become constant mentions, some only when needed.

CALIGO

Caligo is one MASSIVE spiral down. Some say there is no bottom, no one has been brave enough to truly expore to determine this as the lower levels are....disturbing...to even some of the most violent of the fallen, demons, and Horsemen.

For this spiral, it is one long road. Along the road are small buildings on each side. These buildings are the torture rooms. What the torture is, depends on the damned. Torture is not always physical and violent. Someone who wanted to control his wife and was abusive, would find it tortuous to be forced for eternity to never be able to do that and watch her be happy and free, even with someone else. Gluttons would find it tortuous to watch others eat and never be able to have a bite of food again. This is where those who live in Imperium work. No one really lives here except the damned, who really never get rest as there is someone there to administer their damnation always. What type of being is assigned to the damned is determined by the culture of the damned being and the time during which they were damned. There are beings and damned of all belief systems and eras of humanity ,and some that are not human.

UFFERN

Uffern is the realm of mists and shadows. The sun is never seen, but there is daylight. It is just overcast and often mists along the ground. The light is not always white light as we think of. Sometimes the light can take on different casts and those can mean different things for the realm. What those are will come more to light as the story progresses and I don't want to give too much away, but I can say that if the sky is red, as in RED, then the realm is being attacked by an outside force. Other colors will have other reasons. Green just means rain.

Uffernian buildings are very gothic in nature. Lots of stone buildings and spires, harsh angles, cold stone walls with tapestries. Bricks are grey, never red. There are lots of carpets on the floors. Fireplaces are common.

While there is not modern technology as we would think of it in the realm, there is a great use of magic which replaces it. However, they do have contact with the Human Realm (Earth), so in some cases they do have technology to be able to do that, but it is not common outside of those in the Palace.

There is slavery in the realm, more than one type of being is enslaved. There are also servants that are not slaves. Classism is rampant and at times this will be very important within the story. What kind of magic can be wielded can often depend on the class of the being and their standing in society.

Animals in Uffern are similar to Earth. There are few that are unique to Uffern. They do have pets, which tend to be the standard pets of Earth as well. There are suppositions that Uffern and the Human Realm were once joined and that is the reason for this, but that has been relegated to myth and legend.

THE IMPERIUM CHRONICLES TAG LIST - @ceph-the-ghost-writer @kjscottwrites @writingpotato07 @saltysupercomputer @careful-pyromancer @late-to-the-fandom @autumnalwalker @perasperaadastrawriting @fearofahumanplanet @jessica-writes22 @dogmomwrites @mjjune @verba-writing @blind-the-winds @shipping-through-eternity @outpost51 @inkspellangel @blind-the-winds @sunset-a-story @writingmaidenwarrior @clairelsonao3

#the imperium chronicles #writeblr #ask answered #asks #answered ask

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readingrobin · 2 years

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February really is a hell of a month. In my corner of the Earth, everyone's getting a little tired of the cold, anxiously looking forward to the longer days that are right around the corner. It's also too short, full of too many expectations, like trying to live up to the plans you made for yourself only just last month. Thankfully, that also means it's over quickly and March comes in with the hope of spring. Can't wait for all the green to come back to the grass and the trees.

Total Books Read: 6

Total Pages Read: 2, 144 pages

Total DNFs: 2

Books Read:

Silver in the Wood by Emily Tesh - (Review) (4/5)

A Conspiracy of Truths by Alexandra Rowland - (Review) (3/5)

Cry Wolf by Patricia Briggs - I've been a longtime fan of the Mercy Thompson series and, despite having it for almost a good decade now, I finally picked up the first book in this spinoff series. I will say, I think introducing the main characters in a short story separate from this book wasn't exactly the best decision, as there's a lot of confusion around who these characters are and what the basis of their story is. I'm not a fan of authors introducing important plot or character developments in short stories apart from the main series, as it's a pain to track them down in these obscure anthologies and makes the full length book seem incomplete.

Coming into this new series, I couldn't help but do some comparing to Mercy's. A little unfair, I know, but sometimes it can't be helped. Anna doesn't really come off as an interesting, strong protagonist and, to an extent, neither does Charles, far cries from Mercy, who always gives a good range of personality. From the first page, Anna and Charles are in instalove, so their relationship doesn't go through any worthwhile developments other than "Hey, we're in wolfy love now, guess we don't need to do any more emotional work on our behalf." It's just….how do you make a relationship interesting when they're automatically together? What hurdles do they face? What doubts? What hesitation? Hell, Anna has gone through trauma from sexual assault and being passed around her previous pack like a broodmare and that's not even expanded upon or how it may effect her relationship with Charles. It just ends up feeling so hollow. (3/5)

Young Men in Love edited by Joe Glass and Matt Miner - This is such a cute collection of queer romance comics made by queer creators for a queer audience. It focuses on male/masc couples through a variety of genres, ranging from more domestic stories to those featuring demon hunters, pirates, ghosts, and so much more. While not every story was a hit, it's rare for an anthology to be completely perfect, there is such an honesty to each one of them that you can't help but give them all a slight bit of admiration. Some standout stories include "Second Star to the Right," "Another Name," "Act of Grace," "The Way Home," and "Love Yourself." (4/5)

The Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet by Becky Chambers - (Review) (4/5)

The Thief Lord by Cornelia Funke - Though I've been a Cornelia Funke fan since I was in middle school, this was one of her books I didn't grow up reading, which may have lessened the impact of it somewhat. The fantastical elements are pushed more to the background compared to her other books, and the magic comes more from the transportive descriptions of Venice. There was an interview in the back of my copy with Funke where she said that she wanted to create a book where children could actually go see the setting for themselves, which is a great way to introduce them to the wonders of their own world. And yet, somehow it felt like it overshadowed the characters a bit, who didn't really grab my attention.

Ultimately, the story didn't do much for me and I had the thought that I had read better versions of these themes in other books, most notably Something Wicked this Way Comes. Personally, I just think I started this book a tad too late. Though points to Funke for giving it a sort of odd, unconventional ending. (3/5)

DNFs:

The Rosie Project by Graeme Simsion - This book was given to me by a friend about 10 years ago and I only got around to reading it since I wanted to declutter my shelves a bit. I'm not real big on stories where romance is the main element, but I wanted to give it a fair shot.

Ultimately, I decided to put it down because I'm a little tired of the straight white male with thinly veiled misogyny representation of autism, especially when the understanding and conversation around neurodivergence has changed so much since this was written. Autism is a very wide spectrum, but apparently media is focused on only showcasing this particular manifestation, coming from writers that are not autistic, nor do they cite any research done in the autistic community to make their characters more authentic. And, judging from reviews I've seen of later installments of this series, it only gets worse.

Also, very much not interested in male writers that cannot write women to save their life. Got no time for that.

And the Ocean Was Our Sky by Patrick Ness - Beautiful illustrations aside, there's not much that interested me in this book which I could have finished if I gave it another half hour, but didn't really see the point. I haven't read Moby Dick, nor do I think I ever will, so the appeal of seeing that story from the whale's perspective wasn't an incentive. That and there are so many confusing elements that make the story too absurd to take seriously: why do the whales swim upside down, how do they have harpoons tied to their bodies when they're incapable of tying them themselves, how do these whales even know how to speak to humans? I think it's a story where you're not meant to think too hard about the logistics, but I couldn't help questioning it on nearly every page.

Average Rating: (3.5/5)

#robin's book log #reading wrap up #book wrap up #silver in the wood #a conspiracy of truths #cry wolf #young men in love #the long way to a small angry planet #the thief lord #the rosie project #and the ocean was our sky

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be-a-snake-stab-your-brother · 3 years

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Oh ho ho ho prepare thyselves, I have some thoughts about Loki's appearance in the latest What If... episode

Let's jump into this.

Okay. So Loki shows up with an (if not the) entire contingent of Einherjar and the Warriors Three (Four, really), giving the same damn speech he did during Infinity War, minus the "Odinson" portion.

This isn't a mistake. Loki, at this point, damn well knows who he really is and why. And assuming that events up to this point follow the same trajectory as the "sacred timeline" (does anyone else think the "Watcher" is just Kang hanging out with a bowl of popcorn overlooking the multiverse because that's how I'm reading it...) Anyway, assuming everything we see in the first Thor movie holds true up until Thor's murder...

And that's just the thing, isn't it? It's Thor's murder that is the "nexus event." Loki comes screaming down to Midgard, apparently having secured the loyalty of all of Asgard as its acting King (he's still holding Gungnir, after all) so something must have gone on behind the scenes for everyone to start trusting him. Even when they obviously know he is Jotun.

AGAIN, HE LEADS WITH THE WHOLE JOTUNHEIM THING. Doesn't deny it, proclaims it in front of the entire Asgardian army. This...this is a very different Loki than we saw in the first Thor movie. Whatever shame he held about being Jotun, he's at least come to partial terms with it. And it's not the reason he ends up taking over Midgard/Earth (more on this later).

Loki isn't on Midgard because he wants a kingdom. He's the "rightful" King of Jotunheim, not the actual one. And he's actually quite forward about the fact he's rallied the entire Asgardian army to avenge his adopted brother's death. He loves Thor that much. (As if Asgard would deny him this. Of course not, they'd want their "pound of flesh," or more, just like Loki does.)

Remember the Loki series? When Classic Loki just wanted to see his brother again? This is the same thing.

Now here's what I find really fascinating.

When Loki goes for his show of strength, when he declares he will reduce Midgard to ruins (specifically, "ash and ice") if he doesn't get the "pound of flesh" aka the entire corpse he deserves (and just...the meta of this...the pound of flesh being a reference to Merchant of Venice and Tommy H being a Shakespeare expert is just perfection on every level)

Anyway, Loki goes for the bloody Casket of Ancient Winters.

Again, Loki has Gungnir, which is not only a weapon no one would laugh at, but a symbol of the Asgardian monarchy, and yet he takes them all out with the Jotunheim Casket. I mean, fascinating. And Loki doesn't turn blue while handling it, which I believe (contrary to some internet opinion) means he has mastered the Casket as its wielder. Meaning he's come to terms with his identity. Even if he still hates Odin, who may be dead or alive at this juncture (Frigga is most definitely alive, or else Loki would be having a breakdown). I find this choice utterly fascinating.

So I want to reiterate that through this entire exchange, Loki is on Earth for a single purpose: vengeance. He wants his brother's killer. He shows no signs of desire to take over the planet, to subjugate its people, and he has never met Thanos (in any iteration) because he never let go on the Rainbow Bridge. It's not until later, not until Hank Pym spills some beans regarding Fury, that Loki seems to switch tracks.

So Fury and Loki strike a deal and Loki (illusioned as Fury because that is most definitely one of the powers Loki has) outs Hank Pym as the murderer of the proto-Avengers, who is on a revenge tour due to his daughter's death during her SHIELD days (which was likely an alt-universe Bucky Barnes/aka the Winter Solider seeing as it was in Odessa and that's just an entirely different story to deconstruct).

But here's the interesting part:

Remember, Fury is not Fury here. I doubt the real Nick Fury would ever refer to Thor as a "Prince of Asgard," and so we know this conversation is happening between Loki and Hank (and wow, I a) never thought I'd type that sentence and b) I cannot believe Marvel got bloody Michael Douglas to play this character, holy hell).

But the important thing to remember here is Hank's point of view. The way he casually says Fury would have recruited Thor for his initiative. Hints that if Fury had done so, he would have considered Thor as an expendable hero. Outright says he would prefer Fury's death over Thor's and this is the moment I believe Loki decides to conquer Earth. Because he cannot trust these warring factions and his brother is dead because of it.

And Loki wipes the floor with Hank. Think about it. Hank has managed to kill all of the Avengers minus Steve Rogers (only due to the fact Steve was doing his popsicle impression at the time). He managed to kill Thor.

And Loki destroys him within a few minutes. I mean, what a testament to our deity of mischief.

But has Loki really gotten his pound of flesh? Hank is taken away, not dead. Thor is still gone, forever. And there was enough logic in what Hank said during their confrontation (after all, Loki would know about being used as a weapon, or at the very least a means to an end. He had that conversation with Odin. He will not stand to see it repeated with Thor). There was enough in that exchange with Hank, there was enough in the negotiations with Fury...that Loki directs his army (his legitimate army who does not rebel against him) to take over Earth in what we can only assume is a mostly peaceful coup (minus some frigid temperatures here and there, but you know, we can just say Loki was counteracting global warming at the same time.) No Chitauri, no Thanos, no utter craziness.

Just...retribution on this planet for making Loki lose what was dearest to him.

#snakes hiss on the internet #loki #nick fury #what if #what it episode 3 spoilers

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honourablejester · 3 years

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On the topic of ‘fantasy settings you’d like to see more of’:

Subterranean settings. Very specifically, non-dystopian subterranean settings. So many times in fantasy, underground is for dead or evil things, and in science fiction it’s for grim, post-apocalyptic survival stories. And I get it, I do. There’s no light underground, or very little and mostly artificial, and the list of natural hazards in RL mining/caving/drilling is stupendous. For anyone with claustrophobia, fear of the dark, fear of drowning, fear of being unable to breathe, etc, etc, etc, below ground is basically fear central. I have several of those fears myself, so I absolutely get this. There’s a reason the land of the dead in a lot of mythologies was underground.

But. Fantasy. As in magic. As in wonder. And Jules Verne’s ‘Journey to the Centre of the Earth’ was one of the first books I ever read out of the library. The idea of vast caverns and hollow earths, of great subterranean seas and cities and civilisations, really caught me.

There’s a lot you can do with a subterranean setting that is not darkness, slavery, death, blighted monsters crawling towards the surface, gateways into hell, etc. I know there are reasons for the associations. Underground is the realm of darkness, greed, suffocation. A lot of the big fantasy stories have tended towards a post-apocalyptic underground at best. Moria fell to the Balrog. The Deep Roads are where the Blight lives. The Underdark is aberration-and-slaver central. Dwarves, in particular, often seem to be a mid-apocalyptic race, clinging to their bastions of civilisation against the darkness, on the verge of being driven onto the surface. Below the surface, on any fantasy map, is where ‘Here Be Monsters’ tends to be written in huge, jagged letters. Because it’s hostile underground, RL or Fantasy. It always has been.

But. But the imagery you can have. Travelling down into the darkness to find wonders. Vast crystal caverns. Vertical civilisations, great cities built tier on tier around huge caves and shafts. Artificial suns. Bioluminescence. Giant fungal forests. Underground oceans. If you’ve ever watched those nature documentaries on extremophiles, the blind ghost fish with the lovely fins climbing lightless waterfalls. Pale, ethereal, sightless beings.

I have to say, even though it is post-apocalyptic, and the pale sightless beings were actually monsters in it, Blackreach in Skyrim at least had the awe and wonder down. This vast cavern full of majestic ruins, vast ghostly bioluminescent mushrooms, the golden glow of an artificial sun, the crystal chiming of nirnroot plants …

Underground can be a place of discovery. Wonder. Awe. Exploration. Community. Civilisation. I just would like to see some fantasy settings where that’s the bit that’s emphasised. Not the danger, not that everything down here is trying to kill you, not that living in darkness inherently makes you evil, not that the hell-portal is just down the incline there, but …

That there are wonders down here. There are living, thriving civilisations. There are beautiful, alien beings like nothing you’ve seen before. There are benign powers. There are ways to view things that are different: three-dimensional, sightless, lightless, but no less benign or valid.

Show me a dwarven city at the height of its power and prosperity, the roof of its cavern glowing in the light of its tiered suns. Show me ghostly spider people that act as the benign sages and weavers and oracles. Show me a subterranean Venice on the shores of a ghostly, lightless ocean, where bioluminescent mermaids come to trade. Show me a vast crystal cavern and the earth spirits that call it home. Show me the breath-takingly huge cavern sprawling outwards down an incline, an impossibly huge city carved tier on tier into its walls.

Show me the trade networks, gems and ores, yes, but also luminescent spider silks, strange crops grown under artificial suns, the million and one strange uses for fungus, two hundred different types of street food. Witch glass, magic, fertiliser (anyone who’s ever watched the David Attenborough cave documentary will remember the humungous mound of bat guano). Bioluminescent inks. Plant matter, bone, fossilised coal. A thriving trade in ornamental fungus for home decoration. Street stalls selling incredibly eldritch subterranean crustaceans onna stick. Street stalls offering the most delectable silicates for rock-eating species.

Show me life. Twenty six different species coming to trade hubs arranged at certain depths. Haggling. Universities. Water breathers. Methane breathers. Forty different variations on commercially available breathing charms and/or bubble helmets. A trade pidgin evolving using primarily sign languages, because the range of available vocal chords is a bit on the extreme side. Communication via light, or touch, or heat, or telepathy. There’s so many things you can do.

I’m not saying it can’t be dark and dangerous. It is still underground. I’m not even saying it can’t be horrifying. I adore Sunless Sea, after all, a game where the entire premise is an underground victorian ocean full of eldritch everything. Just … maybe don’t make it unrelentingly grim? Have some life down there. Some wonder. Some intrigue. Some cheer.

So much of fantasy underground is apocalyptic, dystopian or evil. Maybe just throw something a bit more, you know, interesting down there once in a while? Something that is not a long endless grind for survival against unrelenting horror. Make it so that people live down here, and are happy, and not because they’re torturing people for funsies, but because this is where they live and they’re fond of it, proud of it, have made a good life from it. Have it be a place people might want to visit. Put some wonders down there. Some joys.

… Possibly I just want less grimdark, post-apocalyptic fantasy in general, really. But yeah.

More wondrous fantasy undergrounds, please!

#random #fantasy #worldbuilding #subterranean #long post #more cheer please #and huge shiny caves

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lizzybeth1986 · 2 years

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Eleanor's Kitchen

Book: The Royal Heir Book 1/The Royal Romance series

Rating: G

Pairing: None. Queen Eleanor & Signore Francesco friendship. Mention of Joëlle Theron & Queen Eleanor's friendship.

Summary: After a visit from one of his mother's old college friends, little Liam realizes he doesn't actually know as much about her as he thinks. (Eleanor's Kitchen)

Word Count: 3, 261 words.

Tagging @choicesficwriterscreations for Fics of the Week.

Choices May Challenge (Day 8) - yellow | Mothers | "do you trust me"? (@choicesmonthlychallenge)

Chapter 2: Spaghetti al Pomodoro

There are many moments when Liam thinks he's seen his mother at her happiest.

When she sees him and Drake, weaving their way through the still-in-construction garden, their shins darkened by mud. When Leo briefly drops his disinterested-teenager demeanor, and actually looks happy to be at home. The now-rare days when she and Father go a full day without disagreeing on something (alright...maybe not that. You can still see her eyes nervously darting, like she's aware that the day isn't over and there's still time for things to go wrong). When her projects seem to take off. When people appreciate her new garden. When she goes to the public library. The rare times she gets to cook.

None of that compares, Liam realizes now, to the shine in her eyes at the sight of a carton of ripe, red, oval-shaped tomatoes in the palace.

As Mum closes her eyes, breathing in the sweet scent of the tomatoes, Liam surreptitiously picks up a note that seems to have fallen from the box.

Nori,

Got this straight from Zio Guiseppe's farm. He still remembers you! Keeps telling me how often you wolfed down their sfogliatella first time you visited. He even offered to just send you a bottle of homemade sauce to save time...but I told him if I did that you'd kill me!

Here's to serving your sons real pasta with real pomodoro, not those pathetic pink travesties you Cordonians call tomatoes.

Franci.

Mum sniffs in frustration when she finally reads the note. "I may be Cordonian now," she murmurs as if Francesco de Rosa himself is in the room, "but on the subject of tomatoes I will never be anything but Auvernese."

Liam frowns in worry. For the past year, Mum's home place hasn't even been mentioned in the palace. If this ever reaches Father's ears there will be hell to pay.

So instead of stoking the flames by asking his mother what's so special about Auvernal's tomatoes (not that he likes tomatoes, anyway, unless they're cherry tomatoes - the bigger ones always make your mouth pucker in the worst way, and Mum always needs to drown them in fresh herbs to make them taste halfway-decent), he asks about Uncle Franci instead.

"When did you go to Naples, Mum?" They've gone to Capri, they've gone to Venice, they've seen the Colloseum at Rome, he's even seen Father and Mum meet the Pope - all veiled and dressed in black - at the Vatican. He knows Napoli is where Uncle Franci stays, with Aunt Perizaad his wife - and they've come over to Cordonia a handful of times - but Liam can't for the life of him remember Mum ever going there!

"Oh, that?" Mum sounds a little surprised, almost as if she's just remembered something that never occurred to her before. "Of course you wouldn't know, sweetheart. I was still in university then."

Liam's eyes grow round as saucers. "You met Uncle Franci in college?"

Mum's laughter tinkles like glass, light but also a little hollow - her smile only half-there. "I met many people at college. Some of them you see almost every month."

"Really? Do you have pictures, Mum?" It's hard, to think of a time when his mother wasn't a queen, wasn't the woman on his Father's right side, wasn't the woman who considered this palace her home. Wasn't his mother.

Until now, he's never had to think about what Mum's life looked like before all that. Almost as if she emerged from the earth of their Capitol, like the goddess Venus did atop a shell from the sea. But Mum's eyes light up with a need Liam cannot name yet, so when she asks him if he'd like to see them right now, he says yes.

And he's excited at first, truly. He wants to see all these memories that seem to bring her so much joy. So he sits through thousands of pictures (Mum and Father. Mum and Global Leaders. Mum and a delegation of Applewood farmers. Mum and himself, now as a small child. Now as a toddler. Now as a baby, bawling his head off in a very uncomfortable christening robe. Mum and a very young, very scared Leo perched atop her lap). And as each yellowing album-page takes an agonizingly slow step back in time and Liam's childish enthusiasm begins to flag...Mum's own anticipation dims a little bit more, the dewy joy that lit up her entire face when she first saw those tomatoes slowly fading.

But then they're interrupted by the palace staff for teatime. And then they're expected to see Ana de Luca, Trend's newest and most popular interviewer, about a photoshoot. Then by the time they're done with all that, Drake runs to him, panting in exhilaration, telling Liam it's time for them to play.

And Liam runs, forgetting instantly all albums he's left behind and all the questions that led his mother to show them to him, too caught up in the promise of his own childhood adventures to wonder about her youth.

Eleanor shakes her head, chuckling fondly - tiredly - at the fading shadow of her son and his best friend, racing madly through the halls without another care in the world, before she puts the albums away.

"Mmm," Uncle Franci takes a seat next to Liam, greeting the smell of spaghetti slathered in tomato sauce with a sigh of appreciation. He'd called in last week, mentioning to Mum that he had work at the Capitol; to which she immediately suggested he drop by for lunch. "Smells just like Nonna's. I bet Pari gave you that recipe. But cherry tomatoes?"

Mum lets out an unladylike snort. "Just because they're not in your Nonna's recipe doesn't mean no Italian has ever used them."

"But these are Cordonian tomatoes. You may have the best baking apples but with respect to this one ingredient we beat you hollow."

"Pssh! Those are different. You haven't even tried our cherry tomatoes yet." Mum gets even more passionate in her defense of Cordonian produce, a strand or two of her hair easing themselves off her neatly-tied bun as she spritedly argues.

Liam breathes in a whiff of the pasta dish while the two keep sparring. He won't lie: it does look, and smell, divine. The basil smells fresh, the sunlight streaming from the windows casts a silky gleam over the already-thick sauce on the spaghettoni. The subtle pungent perfume of crushed garlic teases his nostrils. The mini-tomatoes that seem to offend Uncle Franci so much have a slight char, the blackness standing out against all the bright colours of the dish.

He's just not sure the pasta will taste as good as it looks, because they're tomatoes.

But Liam is sure of one thing. He's never enjoyed being in the kitchen with his mother, as much as he did when she was making this sauce. She's always been one to sing, do a little dance, tell a story, in the middle of cooking. Fairytales, old myths, childhood memories, little anecdotes of his life with Father and Leo, before Liam came along. Little folk legends she's read about in the public library.

But since she got that carton of tomatoes from San Marzano sul Sarno, her stories have started sounding different. They're brimming with love, but with a sense that she's lost something too. She talks about her father's wonderful, forever-fertile farm, that grew everything from root vegetables to dragonfruit. About her time at university, learning Cultural Studies and meeting a young Italian batchmate named Francesco de Rosa - now an up-and-coming Italian politician. Mum said they'd bonded instantly, teasingly calling each other "Volcano Children".

Volcanoes? Liam whispered as Mum sweated the garlic, why volcanoes?

Volcanic soil was very important to both our childhoods, she told him, sighing wistfully, Uncle Franci's birthplace isn't too far from Mount Vesuvius. Your Grandpa's farm was very close to Mount Ionia, which is our dormant volcano. The ash from all those ancient eruptions does something to the soil over time.

What does it do? Uncle Franci's tomatoes, crushed yet still a little whole, now joined the garlic-infused oil, what does that do to the food?

Mum didn't answer. She'd just tasted a spoonful of sauce, closing her eyes and smiling, occasionally moving her tongue around her palate. As if the taste of the tomatoes themselves transported her somewhere else.

He sees the same expression on both her and Uncle Franci's faces now, at the dinner table, feasting on the pasta. Perhaps a hint of surprise in Uncle Franci's expression.

Liam shifts in his seat, embarrassed; his plate is the only one left untouched.

Just one bite, he promises himself, lazily twirling strands of spaghetti around his fork. Just a little bit, and if I can't get through the meal I can complain of a stomachache. Mum will understand.

That one bite releases a whole bouquet of sensations all at once. The pasta is luscious, the tomatoes are shockingly sweet and vibrant, their richness unfurling over his tongue in a way that coats his entire palate. He's never had a tomato that tasted like this. The garlic and basil play hide-and-seek with his senses, only occasionally making their presence felt. It's almost like there's no need for the flavourings to take centerstage!

"More, Liam?" Mum says, her lips unfurling into small smile at the sight of his almost-empty plate.

"Yes please," Liam responds immediately, before realizing both their eyes - amused, a little relieved - are trained on him. "I mean, er, it's nice."

"Perks of living near a volcano," Uncle Franci says, grinning.

Liam giggles, twirling pasta around his fork into a huge cocoon, "Mum said so too."

"She's not wrong, cucciolo mio. It's all that volcanic ash. You won't believe how rich with minerals that soil is."

Liam nods even though some of the phrases are a little hard to understand, his mouth for once stuffed with pasta and tomatoes. He understands enough. But Uncle Franci's praise for Mum's pasta dish has only begun.

"I hate to say this, but I was wrong about the cherry tomatoes, Nori. Charring them really made all the difference!" he lets out a dramatic sigh. "Pari will be so smug when she finds out."

"Once a Cordonian, always a Cordonian, I'm sure," Mum laughs, a light, spirited one that Liam hasn't heard in a while. "She's in Bethulia right now, isn't she?"

Uncle Franci bristles slightly, and Mum purses her lips in response. Liam pretends not to know why; he's heard whispers about Bethulia often over the years, but has only visited the estate once. Its current owner, Baron Cyrus, is younger brother to the then-presumptive heir, who had left the estate years ago to start a new life in metropolitan China. She hasn't been seen since. "Yes."

Nervously, Mum runs a nail over the pristine tablecloth. "She'd told me her cousin Lorelai had come down for a sudden visit."

Uncle murmurs beneath his breath "You can imagine how well that turned out," before turning to Liam and saying - his voice falsely bright - "Did you know, Liam, that I met Aunt Pari through your mother?"

Liam straightens up in his chair, his eyes suddenly brightening, "Really?? You never told me that, Mum!"

Liam knows how fond Mum is of Aunt Pari, but the smile on her face remembering their first few months looks extra special. "Pari was my junior in university...she used to meet me every week for help with class notes. We grew quite close."

"Which is where I come in," Uncle Franci interjects, grinning, "because I was your Mum's roommate, and that's how Aunt Pari met me. Might I add I was the more fun of the two of us; no wonder she stayed around..." Mum rolls her eyes, suppressing a smile. "Both Pari and your mum always carried cameras around. Took pictures of everything and everyone. I actually have a few of those pictures on me right now," he says, passing a conspiratory glance Mum's way. She says nothing, but when Liam steals a glance her way he can see her mouth the words thank you.

Guiltily, Liam remembers they'd never gone back and checked Mum's albums, after the cart of tomatoes had come. The few times he'd remembered, something else had always come up.

"Can I see?"

Uncle Franci is still smiling, but the smile looks different now - softer and more thoughtful. Briefly, he places his hand on Liam's hair. "Of course, cucciolino mio."

The pictures are beautiful, dappled in sunlight, brimming over the four corners of the photograph with bright, happy faces. Here is one of Mum standing at the center of a university campus, holding a bouquet of sunflowers, her eyes crinkled in laughter as Uncle Franci and Aunt Pari mischievously kiss her cheek from either side. And another of Mum and Uncle Franci in plain cotton pyjamas - a far cry from the luxurious sleeping robes she and Father wear - wolfing down pasta, their faces nearly smeared with sauce.

"You have no idea how desparate we both would get for a good tomato pasta. We were so homesick that first year." Mum says, chuckling fondly at their younger selves.

"I'd still argue our San Marzano tomatoes have the slightest edge over your Auvernese ones!"

"Shut it, you," Mum lightly punches Uncle Franci in the arm, her eyes a tiny bit watery, as Liam leafs hungrily through the other pictures. This is a side of his mother he's never seen - and now that Uncle Franci has shown it to him, he can't help but want to know more.

The next photograph shows only a paper, with writing that Liam instantly recognizes as his mother's swirly, almost-calligraphic script. He reads most of the title easily, as well as her name ("Eleanor Moon") only faltering when he reaches the last word.

Breaking Bread: Exploring the History and Practice of Mediterranean Gas...Gas...Gastro...

" - gastrodiplomacy," Mum helps him, rubbing his back in encouragement. "It means you look at how people from different places cultivate alliances and friendships through food."

Liam looks up from the pile of photographs. "Like you and Uncle Franci?" The memory of today's tomato pasta still sends tingles through his tastebuds.

Uncle Franci guffaws in response. "More like your Mum and every soul she meets."

"This was my thesis - that's a research paper you present in the course of getting your degree. Mine and Aunt Pari's was in Cultural Studies, Uncle Franci did his in International Politics. Your father pursued the same degree...but he was a fair bit older than any of us." There is a glow of pride on Mum's face, the same kind that he often sees when an initiative of hers succeeds. "This was the most frustrating, most rewarding, tastiest research paper I'd ever written."

"We both gained weight when you wrote that one," Uncle Franci laughs, before setting the final photograph on the table, "oooh...I think Liam might recognize a person or two in this picture!"

The last picture shows Mum standing behind a huge banner, in a bright purple sundress and a hat, standing next to a vibrant black woman dressed in sunshiny lemon-yellow. They fashion their poses in a way that looks poised, yet casual enough so the onlooker deems them approachable. They wear their best smiles, but their eyes are razor-sharp with purpose. In blue and silver letters, the banner reads

Joëlle Moreau for President!

Eleanor Moon for Cultural Secretary!

Liam draws a deep breath. "Mum, is that -"

"Yes, sweetheart," she responds, eyes softening at Joëlle's deep brown curls, her warm, open smile. "You know her now as Duchess Joëlle, House Thorne. We won that year, too."

"Kiara's Maman," Liam murmurs, remembering it's been months since he's seen the playmate he's been playing soccer and "diplomatic doll games" with. "I didn't know you were in college together too!"

Uncle Franci lets out a small chuckle. "There's a lot of things you don't yet know about your mother," he tells Liam, sitting on his haunches so he can look the young child in the eye, one hand on his shoulder, "but I promise you, finding out will be fun."

Liam takes that little lesson to heart long after Uncle Franci leaves, making promises to arrange for Aunt Pari to visit soon. There is something about Mum's face in those pictures that tugs at him: expressions and hand gestures that he can't even remember seeing from Mum since the time he was born. Things about her he never knew, he never even thought to know. And the look on her face whenever he asks a question about them...that's a happiness Liam wants to grab with both hands and store in a bottle, so he can preserve the glow on her face and the shine in her eyes, forever.

Liam likes to keep this a biweekly ritual, Eleanor realizes three weeks into Francesco's last visit. The first time they went back to that cabinet of albums, he looked closely at the pile as if to imprint which ones had all the family pictures, and which ones featured his mother alone, imprinting them in his memory to save time. Since then, he's walked gingerly to the cabinet each time, plucking out whichever of his mother's albums he's in a mood for. Seeing him pore over each photograph, in awe, makes Eleanor's heart swell.

Something in her hurt inside when Liam left those albums aside...when it looked like he didn't even show interest in the parts of her that had little to do with him or their family. It's childish, she knew. She should be the mature one, she should understand how difficult this life is for any child to navigate. But it didn't stop the hollow feeling inside from constantly creeping in.

Liam points to another photograph now, chirping exitedly his guesses for who the figure in the painting at the background might be (He's right). This photograph is of Joëlle, dressed in a silky maxidress in one of those bright colours she used to wear so well, the head-wrap covering her hair, boldly patterned. She is holding the tip of a paintbrush to her chin, gazing at an oil painting of a young black man in a waistcoat, the fingers of his left hand fiddling with a cufflink, his eyes intense and vulnerable all at once. Jo's features are soft and delicate as she continues gazing at the painting, her eyes already brimming with a million dreams. Eleanor can almost smell the turpentine in Jo's small studio emanating from the picture, if she closes her eyes long enough.

Joëlle is perhaps the only courtier she's this close to... the only one she knows she can trust blindfolded. She won't forget how deeply troubled she'd been all those weeks ago, how much gibberish she'd poured out onto her old friend from Castelserraillan over phone. But somehow Joëlle figured out the problem she'd been plagued with, because Eleanor could understand it herself.

Prince Liam will only show interest in seeing what you are passionate about showing, Elle. Jo had told her in her deep, soothing voice, I've seen you in the past few years, followed your news in the past months. You've been spending far too long trying to be everything to everyone. The perfect Queen for Cordonia. The perfect wife and consort for the King. The perfect mother for your sons. Where are you in all this?

It was a simple enough question; it still stunned Eleanor into silence.

We may be queens and wives and mothers, Elle, was the last thing she said before she kept the phone, but we owe it to ourselves, and to our children, to remember - always - that we are more than that.

Eleanor runs a thumb softly over Jo's face, her heart twisting with love. They meet regularly, she knows, but it's never the same. It's been too long since they've sat down for a heart-to-heart chat. Since they've giggled over the precocious younger children's games together.

Tomorrow, Eleanor promises herself. Tomorrow she'll call Joëlle, ask when she's free. Have her come over. Her youngest could join in, keep Liam company. It'll be a little like the old days, Eleanor whispers to herself, her spirits already soaring.

But for now... they'll shut the albums, keep them neatly back in the cabinets, and have lunch.

It's Liam's new favourite today. A simple tomato pasta.

Italian Words:

Zio - Uncle

Sfogliatella - a shell-shaped filled Italian pastry originating from Campania. It means "small, thin leaf/layer", as the pastry's texture resembles stacked leaves.

Pomodoro - Tomato

Cucciolo/Cucciolino mio - an affectionate term used for young boys (typically refers to a young animal like a young puppy or a young kitten - in this context Franci means "little cub" since the lion is such an important royal symbol)

Author's Note: Inspired by a line in Liam's Book 1 date scene, about how he used to enjoy simple tomato pasta as a kid, and another line about Franceso, the Italian statesman, being a friend of Eleanor's. Takes place roughly a year after the events of Ch 1, so Liam is over 7 years old.

Recipes for Spaghetti al Pomodoro:

Chef Carlo Cracco

Vincenzo's Plate

#choices fanfic #king liam #prince liam #eleanor rys #the royal romance #the royal heir #trr #trr fanfic #series: eleanor's kitchen #cfwc fics of the week #choicesmonthlychallenge

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justkending · 4 years

Text

A Little Party Never Killed Nobody...

1700 Follower Drabble!

A/N: Oh goodness gracious!! I’ve hit 1700 beautiful and loving followers. Everyone of you bringing more and more light into my world:’) In honor of you all helping me fulfill my dream as a writer and supporting me along the way, here is a little drabble for all you sweet humans. I can’t thank you enough, and I can’t express my love for each of you enough as well...

-So, I stole from my prompt list on an old challenge I did and created a drabble of my own with them! Hope you enjoy my lovelies<3

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 5000+

Prompts:

“I actually did my hair for the first time in 3 months. I think I deserve a medal for this. “

“Dude, it’s 3 in the morning.”

____________

The banging was loud and profusely consistent as Y/N sat up from sleep with a groan. She sent a death glare to the door as if it was the culprit to waking her, but she knew it was one of her teammates that would soon be dead...

“What?!” she said bitterly, quickly tearing open the door.

Bucky was on the other side with a slick grin showing his amusement to the situation. Her hair disheveled from sleep and eyes filled with hatred, but the sports bra and tight sleep shorts were doing something for her in her annoyed state.

“Mission. Be in the helicarrier in bay 3 in 20 minutes,” he said with a smirk before turning in his step to walk away.

“Dude, it’s 3 in the morning!” she shouted after him.

“Evil doesn’t sleep,” he responded without looking back.

All he heard from behind him was a strangled groan mixed with a muffled scream as she went back in her room and slammed the door.

____________

The last to board the helicarrier, Y/N walked in throwing her things to the side, and sat in a seat immediately falling to her side to fall asleep again.

“Wake up, Y/N. We have to do a briefing,” Bucky said, slapping her boot.

“I swear to God. Do you have a deathwish?” she growled, begrudgingly sitting up and rubbing her eyes.

“Really not a morning person this one,” Nat laughed coming around the corner. Y/N sending her a glare as well, but not nearly as deadly as the one she saved specifically for Bucky. “Come on. We’ll make it quick, and then we have a 4 hour flight. You can sleep then,” she nodded toward the briefing area of the giant plane.

Taking a deep breath she stood up following the rest of the team with Bucky behind her.

“Cicely Rosmarie DeLuca. Daughter of Ramone DeLuca who is a well known crime boss in Italy. Seems to run in the family as Cicely has taken over the control of her family's business within the last 2 years,” Steve explained pulling up pictures on the screen as everyone sat with informational packets on the group in front of them.

“Since when did we start handling crime bosses?” Sam spoke up.

Everyone who had been on this particular mission included; Nat, Sam, Bucky, Steve, Y/N, and Wanda. So if this many Avengers were needed, clearly something much bigger than just crime bosses were involved.

“Because the DeLuca’s are working with a division group of Hydra. We think they aren’t really in it for what Hydra wants, but more so gaining the alli and making some money on the side,” Steve sighed. “It looks like they have a means to steal plans that could wreak havoc on confidential equipment that we have in the works. Stuff that could easily be modified to become world wide dangers.”

“I have an idea,” Y/N spoke up. The whole crew turned to her. “Let’s just stop creating things that can destroy planet Earth. I feel like that’s a healthy start to creating the safe environment we’ve been fighting so hard to preserve over all these years.” The grin on her face was big and sarcastic and quickly dropped to a bitch face.

“You can’t help but be a smartass all hours of the day, can you sweetheart?” Bucky groaned a few seats ahead of her. The pet name only there because he knew how much it annoyed her.

“And you can’t help but be a nuisance to my life all hours of the day, can you jackass?” she retorted.

“You guys. Focus,” Steve interrupted, sending the two his Captain look. “You’re going to have to get along for this mission because we’re going undercover, and we only have one night to get this right.”

“Undercover how?” Wanda asked.

“There’s a gala in Venice. From what we’ve gathered, the information will be swapped there. We need to hunt it down discreetly and capture the agents working with Hydra. From there, we’ll bring them in for questioning and figure out where exactly they are getting their information from. We believe we have a spy within our facility that’s leaking all the confidential knowledge.”

“And if these Hydra agents happen to do what Hydra does best and kill themselves before we can get anything out of them, then what?” Y/N asked.

“Ever the optimist,” Bucky mumbled. No one else paid mind to it, but Y/N kicked the back of his chair making him turn and send yet another glare at her.

“We’ve prepared for that,” Steve said, nodding to Nat to go to the next slide. “We have devices, drugs, and antidotes in case cyanide becomes involved. The capsules of drug and equipment being used incapacitates them long enough to get them back to our base and keep in holding. From there, we will take other precautions to keep them from doing anything stupid that involves cyanide. Again, we don’t know if that will be the case, but with our history with Hydra, they have yet to prove us wrong.”

“So basically, you’re bringing us to go to a party to roofie Hydra agents. I gotta say, not what I was expecting from our high tech division,” Y/N nodded with a small laugh.

“It’s the best way to keep discrete and not cause a scene or hopefully any fatalities at the gala. They are using a charity for cover, and I rather not actual good people get hurt in the end,” Steve sighed. “Now, we land in 3 and a half hours. Once landed get your gear ready, look over your profiles, and get prepared for the gala. Like I said we are going undercover, so look your best.”

“This doesn’t happen to be a black tie gala, does it?” Bucky asked.

“What gala isn’t?” Sam retorted.

“Suits are already ready to go in the other room. Ladies, our dresses are in section 11 of the ship,” Nat explained, standing and gathering her things. “Y/N, that means you're going to figure out how to walk in heels,” she smirked.

“I think we’ll need more time than you’re giving us for that to ever be convincing,” Bucky snickered. Sam laughed too.

“Oh, shut the fuck up. I’ve done missions like this before. Just because I don’t wear an evening gown everyday, doesn’t mean I can’t pull one off,” she stood, walking by and flicking the back of Bucky’s head.

Her, Nat, and Wanda leaving the room while Bucky held the crown of his head in vexation.

“Son of a-” he started going to stand and retaliate.

“Buck, I’m going to need you to pull it together for one night,” Steve said, cutting him off from his path to harass Y/N. “You and Y/N are teammates. So either put on a face or suck it up for the night.”

“I’m not the one you need to be telling that too. The she-witch in there is going to be the one to mess it up if any of us,” Bucky argued.

“Y/N is a well trained spy and the best marksman on the team as of right now. She will do her job and you’ll do yours. You have to let the petty fighting go for one night, ok?”

“Come on Cap. You know it’s more than just petty arguments. Bucks gotta crush,” Sam said singing the last words.

With wide eyes, Bucky turned to Sam. “I do not! She’s nothing but an annoying headache added to my life... Scratch that. Migraine.”

“That’s what someone with a crush would say,” Sam said with a grin and squinted eyes.

“I don’t have a-” Bucky started.

“Hey Cap. Nat needs you real quick,” Y/N said poking her head back in. Everyone turned to her as if they just got caught doing an illegal act and stayed silent. “Did I walk in on something?”

“No,” Steve shook his head. “I’ll be there in a second.”

She nodded before giving everyone a furrowed eyebrow in confusion as she left. “Weirdos,” she mumbled walking away.

Steve let out a deep sigh. “Just behave yourself tonight. If you do, Y/N will too.” He walked to leave the room.

“Yeah, right,” Bucky scoffed.

“Yeah, your 100% smitten,” Sam laughed walking past him out of the room.

“No, I’m not!”

__________________

The time had come. Everyone was prepared. Lookouts were in their designated spots, any tech that was being used was up and live, and everyone was about to meet at the Gala.

“Ok, Nat, you’re with me tonight. Sam and Wanda you two will be with each other. And Bucky and Y/N, you two will be partners as well,” Steve explained over the coms.

All the women had arrived just a few minutes later and the men were already scoping out the place.

“Wait, what?” Bucky responded back. Sam standing next to him.

“Oh, he definitely did that on purpose,” Sam chuckled.

“Why the hell would he? We don’t work well together,” Bucky groaned, looking around for her.

“Well, you better figure it out. At least for tonight,” Sam patted his back, taking a champagne glass from the passing waiter and moving to find his chosen partner.

Bucky rolled his eyes into another dimension thinking about the all annoying arguments that he was sure would be apart of the night.

“Fine, Y/N what are you wearing?” Bucky asked in the comms.

“James, I’m flattered, but I don’t really like you in that way,” her sass came back through the ear piece.

“Steve,” Bucky groaned.

“Guy’s stop it. Y/N tell Bucky what you're wearing so we can start this mission. We don’t have all night,” Steve instructed with irritation.

“A black dress,” she sighed.

“Wow, real descriptive. Let me just search through all 500 of them I see,” Bucky said sarcastically.

“I’m by the rip off Vincent van Gogh painting on the east side. Next to the waterfall,” she explained.

Bucky took a deep breath walking over in her direction. It was a really crowded place, so maneuvering through people to find her became difficult. That was until he reached the fountain she was talking about, and the people had thinned out some.

Glancing all around, he couldn’t pick her out from all the black dresses he’d seen.

“Y/N, where the hell are you?” he whisper shouted in the comms. No answer. “Of fucking course no answer,” he said to himself.

But upon sharper inspection, he noticed her face in the distance.

And holy shit.

That did not look like the Y/N he was used to. I mean it did, but she was usually a natural beauty. Not that she wasn’t right now, but done up the way she was was a whole different kind of beauty.

Her dress was a black off the shoulder evening gown. The middle section of it was a see through mesh, and the top part of it looked as if it she had a bra on full display. Only bringing more attention to her perfectly modeled torso. Her hair was done in an elegant, but messy, kind of braid. The whole ensemble flowing together and creating an refined and formal Y/N that Bucky had never got the chance before tonight to see.

Having looking that stunning, Bucky wasn’t surprised to see the men around her glance her way. However, the man that was only a few feet into her space and talking up a storm looked to be making Y/N uncomfortable. She had on a fake smile trying not to bring attention to herself, but disgust to the older and space invading man, was showing in her eyes.

Quickly, Bucky maneuvered to her.

“There you are, doll,” he smiled widely at her, putting his arm out and wrapping it around her waist as he pulled her side into him. “I must have gone to the wrong fountain looking for you,” he winked.

As if in instinct, she leaned into his side and brought her hand to his chest lightly patting it.

“Oh dear, you and your directionally challenged self. I can’t take you anywhere,” she laughed in a surprisingly domestic way.

“Oh, is this your-?” the older, and now looking at him closer, creepy man started looking Bucky up and down.

“My date, yes,” she answered. “If you’ll excuse us, we have some other friends that we were supposed to be meeting with,” she patted Bucky’s chest. “Right, honey?”

Lost while staring down at Y/N, he didn’t answer right away, but when he looked back at the old man who had a suspicious look on his face, he snapped out of it.

“Uh, yes. If you’ll excuse us,” he said offering his arm, which she took and intertwined herself into him.

They walked away quickly before the man could say anything else and once a good distance away, Y/N let out a deep sigh.

“Take it you weren’t the one that approached him?” Bucky chuckled.

“99% of the time it’s not the woman doing the approaching. It’s the sexually frustrated, overcompensating, and egotistic assholes that do,” she shook her head.

Ok that made him chuckle a little.

“Well, glad I could be of service,” Bucky nodded looking around them. If he was going to stay focused on the mission, he couldn’t be looking at her. She had proven herself to be a distraction for the night while looking like that.

“Yes, thank you. I would have done something about it, but I don’t think throat punching someone in the middle of a gala would have been normal entertainment for these people,” she said almost in disgust at the crowd around them. All prissy and rich, donating only a 164th of their wealth to try and not come off as greedy.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I heard that right. Did you just say… Thank you?” Bucky teased.

“Don’t push your luck, Barnes,” she countered, but when she looked up at him there was a small smile on her dark maroon lips. A look Bucky had never really been on the receiving end of.

He returned it in surprise and noticed just how devastatingly gorgeous she looked up close. Had she always been this stunning and Bucky never noticed. Ok, well he had noticed, but with the constant fighting and bickering they did, it was hard to focus on it.

Without thinking, his thoughts spilled out. “You look very nice tonight,” he said to her. Instantly blushing and looking away.

“A compliment? I didn’t know you knew how to use those,” she gasped teasingly.

“Don’t push your luck, Y/L/N,” he retorted back. The smile still stuck on his face.

“Time out. Are we being civil right now?” she asked, halting her steps. Bucky stopped and looked back at her.

“It’s possible if you just learn how to be less aggravating,” he smirked.

“There it is. Whew, I was worried we were getting along for a second,” she laughed, continuing their walk.

Bucky hadn’t heard that laugh ever. At least not directed to something he had said. And damn, he liked it. Why the hell did he have to like it?

“You know? I actually did my hair for the first time in 3 months. I think I deserve a medal for this,” she added.

“I don’t think they give out medals for that,” Bucky couldn’t help himself, but laugh with her.

“Well, they should. It took quite a bit of effort. Doing hair could be an olympic spot in itself,” she shrugged.

“Ok, everyone in their sections?” Steve’s voice came through the comms.

“Good here,” Sam spoke up.

“We’re set here,” Y/N checked in.

“Great. Keep an eye out for the individuals we’re here for. Y/N, Bucky, you guys keep an eye on the DeLuca’s. If they venture off from the party, it could be the meeting we’re here for. So follow and keep us updated,” Steve instructed.

“Got it, Cap,” Bucky voiced in. “Alright, shall we mingle?” he asked, looking down at Y/N.

“I mean, if we must,” she deflated some on his arm, but quickly put on a mask straightening and acting as if she went to an event like this every weekend.

______________

They conversed, they faked life stories with the rich, they drank, and they easily convinced everyone around them they were just another pair of investors. The mission was doing fine other than the fact, nothing suspicious had happened yet.

The was until, Y/N was getting her 4th drink and Bucky noticed Cicely DeLuca was conversing with someone they had kept an eye on all night. And now, was headed off to another room with them.

“Y/N,” Bucky said coming up behind her. “They're moving.”

Y/N took a long sip of the wine in her hand. She squinted toward the group and nodded.

“Ok, let’s get to business,” she nodded, walking straight to them.

“Y/N!” Bucky shouted quickly, grabbing her arm before she got to far, and she fell into him some.

“Oops,” she giggled, stumbling on her feet.

“Wait a second. Are you drunk?” he asked in a concerned voice.

“No, no,” she brushed off. Clearing her throat. “No… Ok, a little tipsy, but not drunk,” she waved off. “I lost count of the champagne, and I’m pretty sure they have a high proof brand.”

“Dear God. We're on a mission, Y/N. What were you thinking?!”

“I was thinking, free alcohol,” she smirked before standing straighter. “No time to talk about it. We need to go.”

She turned and quietly marched to follow. Bucky close behind caught up to her and wrapped a hand her arm.

“You’re a mess. Just let me lead,” he groaned pulling her arm through his and keeping her close.

“You smell good,” she noted.

He looked down at her and saw she was giving him a soft sincere smile. Really? Out of all times, this is when she decided to make Bucky’s head all fuzzy.

“Come on,” he sighed, pulling her gently to the corridor the suspicious group disappeared into.

Discreetly they stayed around the corner and watched the DeLuca’s and guests go into a secluded room. No one else was in the halls but them and a few guards posted at the doors.

“Shit,” Bucky whispered.

“What?” Y/N asked peeking her head around to see what Bucky saw, but she peeked out a little too much and the guard heard them. He quickly pulled her back from view.

“Damn it, Y/N,” Bucky whispered to her in a frustrated way.

He was going to pull her away down another hallway to try and keep from being fully caught, but he wasn’t fast enough, and the guard started to come around the corner.

Without getting a second to prepare, Y/N crashed her lips into Bucky’s and wrapped her arms around his shoulders behind his neck. A little stunned at first, Bucky froze, but it didn’t take him long to fall into the action with her. He slowly brought his hands around her waist and pulled her flush to him. The kiss hard and frenzied.

“Hey, you two aren’t supposed to be here!” The guard shouted.

Y/N pulled away and faked shock.

“Oh, goodness! I’m so sorry,” she blushed, adding a fake british accent and pushing herself into Bucky in embarrassment. “We were just trying to find a quiet place to… Well, I won’t get too graphic,” she giggled.

The man who at first had a hard glare on his face eased up and sighed.

“It’s fine. I’m just going to need you two go back to the party. This section is closed off,” he instructed coming closer.

“Of course, of course. You’re only doing your job. I get it,” she smiled a captivating and warm smile untangling herself from Bucky who had yet to be able to form a coherent thought since her surprise make out session. “Let me just grab my clutch real fast- Oop!” She dropped the purse that had opened and the contents of it spilling out. “Oh God. I’m such a clutz,” she laughed. The alcohol created a tint of red in her cheeks only making her little act more convincing.

“Here, let me help,” the large guard offered, bending to help her grap the loose items.

“Ever the gentleman,” she beamed up at him. Before he knew it though, the tiny bottle of perfume she had in the clutch let out a spritz in his face.

He coughed at first, but in seconds fell over asleep. Before he could hit the floor with a thud, Bucky moved to ease him down.

“What the fuck?” Bucky said with wide eyes as he looked back at her.

“What? I’m doing my job,” she answered, calmly and collectively putting her things back in her clutch and smoothing out her dress. Her behavior was completely different from 2 seconds ago. “Tipsy doesn’t mean I’m completely incompetent.”

The footsteps of the second guard coming around the corner were getting closer.

“Move him,” Y/N directed before walking toward the other threat.

By the time Bucky had placed the other man in a closet nearby and turned the corner where Y/N had gone, he saw her dragging the second guard back his way.

“A little help, muscles?” she groaned at the heavy set guy in her hands.

Bucky quickly did the same with the second guard placing them in closets and blocking the door with a heavy decorative table.

“Cap, we’re at the meeting room. Both guards taken care of and about to put the listening device on. You ready?”

“Nat?” Steve asked.

“On it”, Nat replied. “Y/N, if you can’t get into the room, stick it to the door. I can get feedback that way too,” she instructed.

Bucky looked at Y/N. “Where’s the device?” he asked.

“One second,” she exhaled. She placed her hand on his shoulder for support as she lifted her foot and dug out a small mechanism from her heel. “For once, heels are useful in my life,” she sighed, putting her foot back down and activating it. “Keep watch.” She moved to the double doors the suspects were in and placed it on the outside as Bucky kept an eye down the hallway.

“Why do I feel like a sidekick in this and not an actual agent?” Bucky mumbled.

“Because you're Robin and I’m the Batman in this scenario, didn’t you know?” she said with a wink and her sarcasm coming back.

He rolled his eyes before looking back down the hall.

“Ok, we’re in,” Nat explained. “Sam and Wanda head to their location for stand by in case they need backup.”

“Copy that,” Wanda spoke up.

They all listened in on the conversation but so far it had just been exchanging casualties and nothing having to do with evil plans.

“God, talk about a boring party,” Y/N sighed next to Bucky as they waited for something to happen.

“Wasn’t boring 5 minutes ago,” Bucky thought to himself.

He couldn’t help but look over to her and study her again. She was focused on the view from the balcony off to the side. You could see the party happening down there, but it was a private spot where the people below couldn’t really see them up where they were.

She fidgeted with the small mesh strap that wrapped around her arms creating the off the shoulder look. Her eyes darting around as if some form of danger was down there and not behind her.

“What are you seeing?” he asked.

“Don’t know. But something about this seems off,” she said softly.

“Off how?” he went on.

“It’s been 5 minutes of small talk and nothing about what we came here for. It’s usually straight to dirty business with these things.” She looked back at him, but the look in his eye wasn’t showing interest in the mission. He looked like he was thinking about something else. Turning back to the balcony she spoke up. “What’s going on in that head of yours Barnes? You catching something I’m not?”

“Why’d you kiss me?” he said bluntly.

She stiffened and turned back to him. “What?”

“You could of easily just acted drunk and done something with that to throw him off, but you kissed me. And not just a fake, ‘I’m trying to act kiss’ That was a full on kiss,” he said taking a step to her.

“We’re on a job Bucky. I have to make it as convincing as possible,” she said, but there was a weird hesitancy in her voice. “That or we would have been caught and dealing with two highly trained security guards, possibly causing a ruckus that would have brought attention to us.”

He paused. He was looking too far into it, wasn’t he? He just made an awkward situation out of nothing.

“Though, I can’t not say you in that suit had something to do with it,” she mumbled to herself, but the super soldier hearing beat out her quiet confession.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” Bucky grinned shocked and stood behind her.

“You look good in a suit, ok? It made it a little easier kissing you,” she huffed not making eye contact with him. “Don’t get too big an ego there, bud.”

Though he could come up with about 30 different things to say and push her buttons with that confession, that’s not where his mind went.

When she turned, not hearing a witty response for the co-worker, she didn’t expect to see him right behind her and almost chest to chest at the movement.

“What are you-” she started, but looking up into his eyes, she didn’t see irritation this time. No, she saw lust. His eyes dilated to where the blues of his eyes just covered the rims. “Bucky,” she said in a hushed whisper not being able to break her gaze from his lips.

But before she could question him, he lowered himself to her level and connected their lips once again that evening. His hand going from her cheek to behind her neck pulling her in. Her hands at first on his chest nervous at the closeness, but now grabbing the lapels of his coat and pulling him closer.

Frantic and starved was the best way to describe that kiss. As if it had been a long time coming, and tasted oh so much sweeter after marinating all this time.

They eventually pulled away from the intoxicating and dizzying action. Both of their eyes practically black looking at the other.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” Bucky confessed.

“Could’ve fooled me,” she said, still trying to catch her breath.

Breaking the moment up, they heard a crash come from the other side of the doors they were monitoring.

“Shit,” Y/N said, quickly making haste to the room. Bucky two steps behind her.

Bucky kicked open the doors and saw Hydra agents pointing their gun at the DeLuca’s. Though their job wasn’t to take care of the crime boss family, no one needed to get hurt.

The gun quickly turned on Bucky, but before the shot could be made, a knife flew into the man's shoulder causing him to grasp it and fall to the ground in agony.

“Nice shot,” Bucky smirked.

“Thanks, now focus!” She smiled back before the two went in and a whole fight scene evolved.

Sam and Wanda were there seconds later, and as if the easiest task in the world, all the bad guys were in the hands of the Avengers.

No one died, and everyone that was needed for questioning was put to sleep somehow and brought back to the helicarrier.

________________

“Nice work, Y/L/N,” Steve patted her shoulder that hadn’t been injured.

At some point in the fight, the sleeves she had been fiddling with on her shoulders had restricted her to defend herself from a knife. In the act of cutting her though, it also cut the sash off and Y/N used it to her advantage. She had used the fabric as a way to tie up the man who assaulted her and render him defenseless after some light manipulation with the sash made his weaponless. Crazy the things you can make dangerous when your a trained spy.

“Thanks Cap,” she smiled, hissing as the nurse on board put a disinfectant on the wounds.

“Hey, coming out with just one injury is a win when you use a ribbon as your weapon,” Bucky chuckled walking over. Hands in his pockets and a smile taking over his features.

“You’re not wrong,” she laughed before hissing again at another round of alcohol to the open cut.

“I don’t think you’ll need stitches, but we are going to wrap this up to keep from infection. Let me go grab the gauze,” the nurse informed her, heading to the medical bay.

“Nice work tonight,” Bucky said, sitting next to her. “I guess working side by side isn’t as horrible as I suspected.”

“Eh, it wasn’t horrible, but it wasn’t great,” she said shrugging. Bucky sent her a blank stare and slowly blinked, not amused. “Oh, lighten up. I’m just pulling your leg,” she laughed, shoving his shoulder lightly. “You’re not that bad of a partner.”

He eased up and a soft smile formed on his lips before he looked back down.

“Listen,” he started.

“How do you feel about getting coffee when we get back?” she cut him off.

“What?” Bucky said sitting straighter.

“Coffee. You know that drink that gives people energy. It’s usually served around breakfast time, but in Europe they actually-”

“I know what coffee is,” he shook his head with a chuckle. “I’m just a little shocked.”

The nurse came back around the corner and motioned for Y/N to come with her. She got up and turned back to Bucky before she followed.

“You shouldn’t be, considering what happened on that balcony,” she winked, making him blush as she disappeared around the corner.

“Damn,” Bucky eventually said to himself when he could form a thought. “She’s going to be the death of me…”

Marvel Tags:

@thejourneyneverendsx @death-unbecomes-you @heyiamthatbitch @lizzymacy555 @iheartsebastianstan @srrymydood @xa-dia @redhairedfeistynerd @morganclaire4 @connie326 @captain-asguard @mollygetssherlockcoffee

Bucky Barnes Tags:

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My Lovelies forever:

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#bucky barnes drabble #bucky barnes x reader drabble #bucky barnes one-shot #bucky barnes #justkending #Winter Soldier #winter soldier drabble #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction

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whoslaurapalmer · 3 years

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lulu watches doctor who; the vampires of venice and amy’s choice 💫

-going in i was like 'well clearly they are not vampires. they are aliens. give it to me i can't wait to find out what neat spacey creature they are' -SPACE FISH DID NOT DISAPPOINT. space fish!!!!!!!!!!! space fish with fangs!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

-rory you sweet bean of a third wheel. oh rory. -i love that he goes around in the stag party shirt though. just. vibing. -AND THAT ISABELLA'S DAD GETS TO WEAR IT WHEN THEY SWAP CLOTHES

-i love the doctor's dimension pockets. beautiful. gold. LOVE inexplicably deep dimension pockets -AND THAT HE JUST, WHIPS OUT THE FIRST DOCTOR'S LIBRARY CARD -that the first doctor had a library card. that that's what eleven pulls out -daily i think about "yes, i made some cocoa and got engaged." daily. it's been some time since i've watched the first doctor but d a i l y

-"i shall bend the heavens to save my race." look i know this one was not written by moffat (although, his influence is on it) but we really are leading up to the day of the doctor, aren't we. god. aren't we -"you can't go back and change time. you mourn but you live." COULD WE HAVE HELD ONTO THAT, PLEASE -i’m not gonna let this go, do not expect me to

-rory gets to be her......brother............................. -rory. you too get the short end of the stick -amy has a sort of. carelessness to her (that i think is influenced to some extent by the doctor but not entirely the doctor’s doing) that definitely changes in amy's choice which is good when she realizes how much rory really does mean to her but also. like. i am not invested in amy and rory's relationship right now and not really in amy and rory which i feel really bad about cause amy has great character bones!!! and rory.......he's.................. -rory right now you have very little else going for you besides 'sweet bean' which is not terrible, but.

-RORY DOES GET TO LAY THE SMACKDOWN, THOUGH!!!! -hell fucking yessssssssssssss -"you know what's dangerous about you? it's not that you make people take risks, it's that you make them want to impress you. you make it so they don't want to let you down. you have no idea how dangerous you make people to themselves when you're around." -yesssssssssss -oh, the doctor very much knows that. and it never changes anything. the doctor is never not the most dangerous thing to exist -it's similar to davros's smackdown of ten, which was one of my favorite things

-"we ran from the silence. there were cracks." tadaaaaaaaaaaaa -i know there's. the Silence. out there somewhere. but i did like the ~silence~ at the end of the episode -oh are they related. is that the thing. i'm actually really excited to see the silence whenever the silence do show up

-you know i guess you could make the in-universe case that the reason almost everyone (minus the eleventh hour bc that was specific to amy) recognizes the doctor as The Doctor is bc ten in particular was out there making a name for himself -and did drag the earth back into place. ALTHOUGH WHO REMEMBERS THAT NOW

-a+ for eleven being excited to have rory in the tardis -eleven wants friends give eleven friends -(in light of amy's choice) well. is he.

-OKAY. THE HORROR MOVIE VIBES THOUGH IN AMY'S CHOICE -OLD PEOPLE!! VICIOUS OLD PEOPLE!!!! THAT WAS TERRIFYING!!!!!!!!!!!! -do some people think that was like. silly. because that was HIGH-KEY TERRIFYING FOR ME -i think old people being exceptionally creepy is one of the heights of horror!

-that knitted dog sweater eleven gets to wear for a hot second though is the cutest thing!!!!!!! put eleven in all the sweaters

-amy: /pulling out the ponchos me: oh is this where the peruvian folk band line happens me: IT IS!!

-the dream lord. the dream lord!!! the dream lord -this i did in fact know going in, that the dream lord was the doctor -that the darkest part of the doctor is of course conscious of how from one standpoint he completely uses people and then runs away from them (/waves hands at the first part of my big nine and ten notes where i went absolutely off about the doctor/companion relationship) -- "is that the right word for the people you acquire? friends are people you stay in touch with. your friends never see you again once they've grown up." which is also an absolute dig at companions as well!! -- and that, at the same time, he constructs this vicious choice for amy to make that she shouldn't have to, to get her to try and pick him over rory, even if rory is present in both places -she doesn't even choose the tardis world for the doctor, she chooses it bc rory's still there -eleven's part of this hallucination is to torment amy, which is its own torment for himself, that a part of him is capable of that and is always capable of that

-i don't think we ever see the dream lord again but i will remember this whole concept terribly fondly. i love the doctor confronted with the reality of his actions. by god where is the ten+tentoo peaks-esque doppelganger fic of my dreams cause the doctor is such a coop. i'm not gonna do it myself!!!!!!!! -no. i am. eventually. i know it in my soul. if only for me, i will do it. -i already have lines written down somewhere, i have since i watched journey's end i just have zero (0) confidence in writing for a new thing right now (-or eleven and ten confrontation...........actual, true confrontation....................could've had it alllllllllllllllllllllllllll)

-have i seen toby jones before. he looks like someone i have. or maybe he just has one of those faces. oh i have seen tinker tailor soldier spy in fact a few times but i remember none of it

-dream lord: he never apologizes. amy: he doesn't have to. me, typing this up: mmmmmm amy give it a good five minutes cause he will once rory gets sanded out of existence me: ....for the first and not last time...................

-"the only girl in the universe to whom the doctor tells everything?" "yes." oh amybean -goddddd the dream lord is DRIVING ME OVER THE EDGE -just. filtering everything back through 'that's the doctor calling the doctor out' makes everything hurt

-"you save everyone. you always do. it's what you do." "not always. i'm sorry." "then what is the point of you?" -ouch ouch ouch ouch ouch -precision! strike! -no. not always.

-you know, rory cares about amy but also in terms of what he wants and what he thinks amy wants, which isn't ideal either

-the chakoteya transcript says the dream lord is wearing a 'peach racing suit' but when i was watching the episode i was like 'dear god is this another return of The Orange Space Suit' -kind of relieved and kind of disappointed it was not -we have had enough of the space suit though.

-i'm literally seven episodes in i really need to fucking chill out about character for a while but right now i'm gonna try and leave it at "it's the struggle to be better than ten was (good better [less flaws]. bad better [they were not flaws].) while still. uh. literally being the doctor who was just ten"

#lulu talks about doctor who #best part of this post -- FIRST DOCTOR'S LIBRARY CARD #i could ramble about these a little more i think but. i'm leaving it here

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ye-bloodeh-liar · 3 years

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I just finished AC Valhalla – A résumé.

I finished the "main story" of Assassin's Creed Valhalla. These are some thoughts of mine. (This was saved in my drafts for two weeks or so. But my stance hasn't altered. Actually, I'm even angrier now.)

Disclaimer: This obviously contains some spoilers here and there. You've been warned, but tbh, who even cares about the story at this point. Also, I know I don't have many followers, and I suspect none of the few that will come across this post will actually be interested in it. That said, if you like reading people's rants about things, regardless of your interest in video games, this might be something for you. I just needed to get this out of my system somewhere. This is a rant (well, vent? I'm venting, I guess) written as it came to my mind. There's no real structure, I think. Sorry for that in advance.

After Origins, which I thoroughly enjoyed and actually played again between Odyssey and Valhalla, and Odyssey, which's name was perfectly fitting since it felt like a fucking odyssey to grind through, I hoped, actually, I was convinced, Valhalla would right Odyssey's wrongs. You see, Odyssey had one big problem for me: It did none of the things that made and still make me love Origins. In short: The world was massive, but felt copied and pasted, uninteresting to explore and lifeless. Basically, it was a lot of green sprinkled with some olive branches. A lot of the times the only way to know roughly where I am was pulling up the map because based on my surroundings, I could've been anywhere. Compared to the intriguing world of Origins, where you always knew in which area of the map you currently were, this was a shitshow. I mean, just walking through the desert in Origins had more atmosphere than the whole city of Athens (the main fucking city) could ever muster up. (Oh, remember the times of AC Brotherhood, where Rome actually felt like a city even though it wasn't actually humongous like the new games are? Or how atmospheric the whole of AC II was? I mean, Venice? Hello? M a s t e r p i e c e) But I can overlook that. The combat didn't feel heavy, or to put it better, "impactful" like it did in Origins, but more like poking the enemies to their deaths with something that made sword-y sounds. But I can overlook that. The loot system improved a bit, in the sense of giving the option to modify your loot and being able to combine different armor pieces, however, Origins outfit-system was more up my alley. But I can overlook that. Funnily enough, compared to its predecessor, Odyssey looked worse. In Origins the fabric of your outfit look like actual fabric and, I can't stress this enough, waved in the wind. In Odyssey everything felt more static and somehow "fake". But I can overlook that. To me, Origins' story was masterfully done. Personally, I'd say, that this is the closest we've ever gotten to the Ezio-Trilogy. The voice acting was top notch. Bayek was a great character, and the side characters like Aya/Amunet were equally intriguing. I still remember the first time I saw the first confession cutscene after killing Medunamun. It gave me shivers and goosebumps and got me excited for what was about to come. What I want to say with this, is that Origins made me care; care about its characters, care about their backstory and motives, care about the world, etc. After I had finished the DLC The Hidden Ones I felt like I had actually witnessed the igniting spark of something epic, namely the Assassin Brotherhood, in such a chilling way, even though they basically were just chillin' in a cave. Because that's what character building gives you: payoffs. Well, Odyssey did none of that. All it did made me care about was to get all the loot, because that's what my mind always goes for in any game (I'm that kind of stupid ape). I didn't care about what would happen in the end – I just wanted to get there. I wanted to know how the story would end, but in whichever way it would, I knew I wouldn't care for it in the sense of being disappointed or yearning for a different outcome for the character I was so invested in, because, as I said, nothing got me invested in the character(s) in the first place. That's what bugged me the most about Odyssey. Not the flimsy feeling combat, not the husk of a world I found myself in, not the downgrade in design and animation, etc., but the lack of care it invoked.

Now, when Valhalla was originally announced, I was excited as I could be for a video game. Ubisoft was clearly aware of their mistakes with Odyssey and tried to show that they're willing to listen to their fanbase. A world where every area has its own identity? Sounds great. Heavy combat? Hell yeah. Gear and loot that actually matters and is special (unlike in Odyssey where after a few hours of playing you find yourself carrying the same fucking bow 25 times)? Oh my. Choices not for the sake of choices, but story? Yes please. I mean, if you have to implement choices. Even though choices don't really make sense in Assassin's Creed, but that's another topic.

Well, did it deliver (for me)? No. And to be completely honest, I prefer Odyssey, even as the grindfest that it is, over Valhalla, and me replaying Odyssey seems a lot more likely to me, than going through all of Valhalla again. I'm not going to list all of the points mentioned above again in full detail: The world is a bit more intriguing than Greece, but a shadow of what Egypt was. The combat feels heavy, yet every weapon looks too big (????) and it still feels a bit off. My biggest grudge of the minor points is actually the look/the graphics: How on earth does Valhalla manage to look less real than Origins? The fur and pelts on the armor, every piece of cloth, i mean just e v e r y t h i n g looks somewhat plasticy (at loss for a better word here; just compare Origins' outfits in motion to Valhalla's) Anyway, let's get to the real problem here, because all boils down to the point I've mentioned before: Invoking care.

This became very apparent to me after forging the fourth (?; was it the fourth? They all blur together. That's how e n t i c i n g they are. Great.) alliance or so. I didn't give a single fuck about the characters in those arcs. It was very clear that they'd be soon replaced by other characters in the next alliance's arc, which I probably wouldn't care for either, especially, since they all felt somewhat the same: empty. Alliances felt like checklists to do. Even Wincestre, which had an interesting beginning, somehow managed to loose all of its "darkness" after the first two quests. But I could overlook the dreary sidequest-like alliance arcs, if they served the main storyline in some way or form. Now you might ask, what main storyline? E x a c t l y. Looking back, there is none. At least not really. And there where a lot of times playing the game where I found myself wondering, if this alliance-arc-thing I was currently dragging myself through was in fact meant to be the actual story. But it shouldn't be. Was it? I have no fucking clue. My conclusion on what Valhalla's main overarching story is, is what follows:

Eivor's parents got killed when he was a child (never seen before lol), got adopted, and is now part of the Raven clan with his "brother" Sigurd//Sigurd comes home from some raid with the Assassins Basim and Hytham//(Eivor gets the Hidden Blade; I mean, this is an Assassin's Creed game. Big moment. Done in 2 seconds.)//Sigurd and Eivor aren't happy with the new King of Norway.//Sigurd and Eivor fuck off to England (with Basim and Hytham) to set camp there.//Eivor starts to forge alliances throughout England to make his clan's hold on England stronger.// Sigurd and Basim do their own thing.//Eivor meets Sigurd and Basim two or three times throughout his alliance forging.//Basim seems a bit off.//Sigurd says that he was told (by Basim?) that he is a descendant of the gods.// Sigurd wants to "pursue his destiny"// (sidenote: the last few things are all within one (!) short cutscene in a small house. d e v e l o p m e n t.)//Sigurd gets captured and tortured and loses his hand.//Eivor rescues Sigurd.// Sigurd is back in the settlement.//Sigurd distrusts Eivor because Eivor doesn't believe Sigurd and Sigurd thinks Eivor wants to take his title as the jarl (jarls are the bosses of settlements).// And then the end sequence hits. This is where I want to go into somewhat detail again. We go from Sigurd distrusts Eivor to "Eivor, I don't wanna be the boss of the town, so I don't hold a grudge anymore, let's go back to Norway and I'll show you I was right all along" like it's nothing. It's literally just that: You walk up to Sigurd, he says this (more or less) and you sail away. Again: development is taken very seriously in this game. Honestly, at this point I didn't even know that this was going to trigger the ending. My genuine thoughts were "Oh my, finally, after all this grinding, the story is going to start." when in reality of course, ironically, it was going to end. Absolute belter. So you sail to Norway with Sigurd, which takes fucking forever, because OF COURSE you have to sail (for everyone who didn't play the game, yes, sail, that means looking at a viking longship while occasionally moving the stick slightly to change its directions slightly) to your original settlement in Norway, for what feels like far too long, only to say Hi to your dad. Fucking lost it. I thought we were going to assassinate the King? Nah bruv let's just have some quick family talk instead. Some action? Nah. Just get back to the longship. A N D S T A R T S A I L I N G A G A I N. Where? Just around the curve of our settlement in Norway. Yes, they pulled the old trick of the ending is literally just right around the corner of your starting position hehe. Absolute belter. Is this to make it seem like something is about to happen? The calm before the storm? It doesn't work like that. Well, then you actually sail through a storm (lol), which doesn't matter, because Sigurd just says "Let's keep going" and, well, you keep going. Also, to this point the weather conditions have never affected neither Eivors health, nor the ship in any way whatsoever, so why should I be impacted by a storm now? Like, it's a nice thing for atmosphere, but at least make the ship harder to steer or something. Then you walk up a mountain. Funnily enough Sigurd walks in manner that shows that the walk against the storm isn't easy, whereas you, hah, you can just yeet yourself up that mountain like nothing. I could sprint up there. Fucking sprint. Anyway, Eivor and Sigurd enter the Isu temple, because of course, we had to throw an Isu temple in there, I mean, i t ' s A s s a s s i n ' s C r e e d. Was it hinted at before in the story? Not really. Were we chasing or searchig for it? Nah, better get that next alliance going. It just suddenly was. Again: development. So we walk to the main platform of the temple and activate the machine and bam we're in Valhalla (because at some point Ubisoft realised that maybe they should include what is literally in the name of the game). Again, were we looking for Valhalla? Like not in the sense that every viking was, but more in the sense

of was it the main objective of the game? Did Eivor look for a way to Valhalla? Was there anything that led us here other than Sigurd having had a few dreams (that only got mentioned, like, twice?) and being influenced into thinking he was a demigod or something? Nope, Eivor was looking for that next alliance to forge. So, Eivor realises that his experience of Valhalla is fake and he wants to get out. But fake-Odin doesn't want to let him go. In a really weird cutscene (jump to 6:30), Eivor eventually escapes Odin and enters a door with his settlement-family (look, I'm all here for metaphors, but this, this is just utter rubbish. It just doesn't make sense, and there is no payoff whatsoever). Odin actually had a build-up of some sort. In every assassination sequence he's there and talks with Eivor. I actually thought there would be some cool payoff/ending/reveal here. But nah, this ain't it chief. Yet somehow, until here, I had hope. I thought maybe now, building on all this confusion, there's gonna be a relatively good ending. Something enticing. Something that made everything somewhat worthwile. And Ubisoft went: Lol nah. So, you're out of the Isu machine again (for all the non-AC-peoples here: basically like the matrix. Eivor gets hooked up to the machine and experiences alternate reality: Valhalla), and Basim is there. What a twist. The guy that showed up like three times and went from friendly in the first time to super suspicious (like glaring-in-your-face-suspicious) in the two-or-so other major cutscenes he was in, has now been revealed as the enemy. Congrats to that. What a twist. The thing is, and this bothers me a lot actually, it could have been anyone there. It didn't need to be Basim. It wouldn't have felt out of place if it wasn't him. Why? Because Ubisoft failed terribly at making you connect to any character and at building any actual story (or character). It could have been Gunnar, the friendly black-smith in our settlement, and it would have been as fitting as Basim. Then Basim says that this is "for his son". Ah yes, the lost son of Basim, which was mentioned once. Right. Eivor defeats Basim by hooking him up on the Isu machine and gets back to the settlement with Sigurd (in my ending at least. There seems to be a possible ending in which Sigurd doesn't come back.) Cut to the modern day, where Layla now knows the coordinates of the Isu temple, goes there, hooks herself up to the machine, becomes the overseer of time with the other overseer of time which already was hanging out there (I mean yeah, great idea, terrible execution. Build it up, then you can have a payoff. This was just straight outta nowhere, and who cared about Layla anyway.) Anyway, meanwhile Basim, who was still hanging on that machine a fuck ton of years later, pops off, and is now living in the modern day. The idea here is, that we lost the hero (Layla) which caused the (just established) vilain (Basim) to do his fuckery in the modern day. But why should I care? Basim was basically nonexistent in the basically nonexistent story and suddendly I should feel sad or shocked, because he's in the modern day? Is this supposed to be intriguing? And yeah, Layla is "gone". Layla, who had no character building over three fucking games. Why should i be bothered? Why should I care about anything that just happened? Remember when a side character (Lucy) died in AC Brotherhood? That was intriguing. Why? Because they built her as a character we (Desmond) trusted, even though it was in the modern day (which no one really cares about in AC). And this is why Valhalla broke me and Odyssey didn't. Valhalla failed to make me care on a much deeper level. It's just a lot of nothingness. Empty characters in a nonexistent story. And by nonexistent, I mean non-built at all. When I play the game now, I have no actual reason, and throughout the game never actually had any actual reason, to continue. It was a chore. I didn't bother if after three hours of grind I would eventually get a mini-snippet of a husk of a story, and neither do I care now. Everything in

this game is so devoid of sparking curiosity and screams of lacklusterness to the point where I don't even know what I have actually expierenced. For fuck's sake Ubisoft, make me care again. At least once in 40 hours.

May I sum up Valhalla's "story" and content in the glorious words of Catherine Tate: Am I bovvered? The answer, sadly, is a holistic no.

#assassins creed #ac valhalla #sorry for the rant #this is my longest post yet #am i bovvered #sidenote: this is actually the first time that i'm genuinely pissed at ubisoft #i wasn't even this mad with odyssey #and that thing got a lot of hate #maybe i'm gonna delete this again

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pricetagofficial · 4 years

Text

Ghost -Part Seven

Warnings: Language, angst (lots of it), light bending of cannon

Masterlist

Word Count: 3.3K

Tag List: @kishony-the-geek @idkmanicantenglish @unknowntoanyone @subtleappreciation @catxsnow @spxder-mxns @river-bottom-nightmare @screennamealreadyused @woahjaybird @bikoncon

A/N: There are some more familiar faces here! Maybe a few new ones?

Rory opened her eyes with a groan, the sedative that Bruce had given her was brutal. It made her body weak and her head hurt. Slowly she sat up and saw that she was in one of the cells they kept in the cave for times they needed to hold someone like her there.

There was a shuffle outside her cell and she looked through the glass panel to see someone she did not recognize.

He was sat in a chair playing a game on his phone while he tapped his foot. From the first observation, she could tell that he was older than Damian but not much younger than herself.

She narrowed her eyes. "Did Bruce take in another stray?"

The person in front of her jumped and looked at her. "Oh, hey you're awake. Bruce wanted someone down here to keep an eye on you and they are all out right now, so I took the job," he explained.

"How long have I been here?" she asked.

"Only about twenty-four hours, he gave you a big dose. Said something about you being dangerous or something." he shrugged and looked back at his game.

"I'm locked in one of these cells, pretty sure that means I'm dangerous to Batman's standards." she snapped.

"Well, dangerous or not I doubt you can get out of this cell," he said, leaning back in his chair.

Rory looked him over. Maybe this kid wasn't so bad. "I like you, what's your name?" she asked.

"Duke, Duke Thomas. You?" he asked.

"Ghost."

"So when you were born, your parents named you Ghost?" he grinned, looking at her again with a smile on his face.

"Yup. It's how all of us assassins are born. Fully grown and equipped with weapons ready to kick ass." she chuckled.

Duke laughed at her comment. "At least you laugh like a human, there was a theory that you were from another planet."

Rory bit her lip to try and keep herself from laughing. Even though she had her mask on still, Duke could see what she was laughing. "Another popular theory is that you are from the future, that's how you kept slipping away."

Rory leaned forward. "I am not an alien, nor am I from the future. Who even came up with those?"

"Jason and Steph," he replied. "But of course, after he met you Jason changed his mind. He's actually been really grumpy since then."

"Well, that's because I shot him in the leg." she chuckled.

Duke laughed at her statement, he couldn't see why the rest of them were on edge around her. So far she made no moves to escape and was holding a pleasant conversation, but then again he was on the opposite side of the glass door. Who knew what Ghost would try to do to him if he pissed her off.

Rory was about to open her mouth to speak once more when a bike pulled into the cave. She held her breath, this was what she was not looking forward to. Dick took off his mask and looked over, his expression neutral upon looking at her.

Yeah, he was still upset with her. What did she expect, that he and Jason were going to forgive her? Rory had a feeling that Roy would forgive her, but she had crossed lines and things weren't going to be the same between them.

"I see you're finally up. Batman has questions to ask you." Dick said.

"You could at least look a little happy to see me, Richard."

"Let's go back to last year and sure, I'd be happy to see you. Ro- Ghost, you've murdered people across the globe. That doesn't just go away." he said.

"Oh, but it goes away for Jason when he slips up or just flat out ignores Bruce's rule. You still accept him." she snapped.

Duke sat in his chair quietly, watching the two of them fight. He might have only been around for six months, but he had never seen Dick snap like that at someone; ever. Not unless they did something to hurt his family. Looking at the girl in the cell once more, the pieces started to click.

Dick knew her, and he knew her well. But what was it she did to make him so upset at her?

Dick clenched his jaw, there were many things he wanted to say to her. Most of them consisted of yelling at her for what she did to Tim, dumping him, and then dropping off the face of the earth. It was something he wasn't ready to forgive her for, and from where he was standing it didn't seem like she regretted it at all.

Rory glared, he might not be able to see her face but it was obvious how she felt. Her body was as stiff as a board and her hands were clenched tightly on the edge of the cot she was sitting on.

Neither of them spoke, only glared at the other leaving a very confused Duke in the middle. Several minutes had passed before he went to open his mouth. "Is anyone hungry? Because I am starving," he asked.

"I would love something to eat, I've been locked in a cell for twenty-four hours. At this point, I would eat anything," Rory said, her gaze not leaving Dick.

Duke quickly got up from his seat and went up to get some food, once he was gone was when Rory spoke again.

"Why don't you tell me what this is really about Grayson? I'm sure there are many things you want to say to me, and nows your chance." she taunted.

"You don't want to know what I have to say, it's not very nice," he said.

"Oh, afraid that you'll make me cry?"

"No, afraid it'll make you change your mind and want to stay."

Rory raised a brow at him. "Why would I want to stay in the hell hole of a city?" she asked.

"The same reason you did the last time, but I am not going to let you hurt my brother again. Not if I have anything to say about it."

There it was. Dick was worried that she had come back for Tim, or at least try to talk to him. Little did he know that that was the last thing she wanted to do. Seeing him in Venice was hard enough, and he was distracted. Rory came to Gotham for one reason, and one reason only. She was going to find Samantha Wilkins and stop her.

"That's not the reason I'm here."

"Then what is?"

The two of them looked behind Dick and saw Bruce walk in, the cape swaying behind him. Damian was off to the side with his arms crossed, looking over at them.

"I was wondering when you would get back Bruce, Dick over here has been keeping me company. Along with that new kid, Duke. He seems smart, resourceful." she commented, getting to her feet.

"Why are you here?" he asked, his tone stiff and firm. It was clear that he was not going to let up on any of this until he got the answer he wanted.

"Relax Brucie, I'm not here for the reason you think I am. I won't go anywhere near him, I don't want to." she clarified.

Damian's eyes narrowed from across the cave. This situation with Ghost was getting weirder and weirder; she knew their identities and Grayson and his father both seemed to be at least kind of comfortable around her. It was like they knew she wouldn't seriously hurt them, but didn't want to push it anymore than they had.

"Then tell me, why are you here Ghost," Bruce questioned, narrowing his eyes at the girl in front of him.

"That's my business, next question."

"Why were you in Venice?" Dick tried.

"Again, I had no idea he was there." Rory huffed as she began to pace in front of the glass door.

"Why were you in Venice?" Bruce snapped. "There was a League base there, and you were seen inside it. Why were you there?"

Rory stopped pacing and stared at him from where she stood. "Do you really think you can intimidate me?" she laughed. Bruce really thought that he could scare her into talking, but Rory was smarter than that. From all the things she had seen in her life, Batman was not at the top of her list. Hell, Deathstroke no longer scared her anymore. Not after he was locked in Belle Rev Prison and she had almost killed him, it was almost poetic how she had quite literally conquered her fear that night.

The thing Rory feared the most, she couldn't get away from.

"I'm beginning to understand why you locked me in here, and it wasn't for your safety." she grinned. "I was for mine, to make sure none of them or you would try and beat me up for what I did is that right?"

Bruce's glare darkened, she was as smart as he remembered if not smarter. The Rory they all knew a year ago was long gone, she was a completely different person now. It was like she enjoyed seeing the pain on their faces, knowing it was her that had caused it.

"Come on, why don't you let me out? I've learned a few tricks, let's see how long it takes me to kick your ass."

"Why the fuck is she here!?" Jason took off his helmet and stormed over, his face contorted in anger. Rory was the last person he wanted to see, especially in the cave. He had been out of town for the last few days and didn't know that she was in Gotham, but when he saw her white suit from across the cave he got pissed.

"Jason, don't," Dick said, moving to stop his brother.

"Did you forget what she did, what she said to him? Or the fact that she shot me? Does any of this ring a bell in that bird brain of yours?" he asked, knocking Dick on the head with his knuckles.

"No none of us forgot, but this isn't the time for grudges. There's a reason she is here, and the quicker we find that out, the quicker she can leave the city." Dick said, trying his hardest to hold Jason back. He was physically bigger than him and could easily throw Dick over his shoulder if he wanted to.

Damian listened to the whole conversation, looking up when Duke came back with two plates and a sandwich on each. Duke decided it was not a good idea to get tangled up in all of that and thought it was a good idea to wait by Damian. He set the sandwich that Alfred made for Ghost down and began to eat his own, watching as Bruce, Dick, and Jason tried to get answers out of her.

"Do you know who she is?" he asked, leaning over towards Damian.

"I have my suspicions, but I want to wait before I voice it. If I'm right, she's an old friend." Damian said, closing his eyes and dropped his head. "But this one time, I don't want to be right."

"Who you think she must be, was pretty important to all of you then?" Duke asked, taking a bit of his sandwich.

Damian gave him another nod. "Yes, but to no one more than Drake. She was his beloved, and about a year ago now she broke his heart and left. None of us has seen her since."

"What if you're right, will you tell Tim at all?"

Again, Damian shook his head. "It's better he doesn't know what became of her."

"Not to be that guy, but that sounds kind of fucked up. Shouldn't he be the first to know, considering that they were a thing as you said?" Duke asked, his brows raised in confusion.

"You didn't see what had happened after she left. Father brought you in several months later, Thomas. The Manor wasn't the same and we all felt it."

"So why do you think she came back then?"

"An excellent question, but I think I can find the answer." Damian pushed off the wall he was leaning on and walked over to the bat computer and began to type things into it, trying to find what it was Ghost was following that night.

Before she had said that she had business to attend to and that they needed to stay out of her way. What he wanted to know, was what exactly it was that she was doing. Whether Ghost was Rory or not, that didn't change the facts that were laid out in front of them.

She was going around, killing members of the League of Assassins. The ones with links to drug trades, trafficking, and other shipments across the world. Damian had already informed them all of this connection, but things got a little weird when she went to Venice, Italy. Up until that point, she had been hunting ring leaders and not attacking bases.

Drake had gone there to try and get some information, hoping that Ra's was in a good mood and willing to cooperate. He wasn't of course, but that didn't matter. What mattered was that she was there for another reason, but why?

Scanning the footage, the voices of his father and two brothers were drowned out as Duke stood there and watched. Damian's eyes didn't leave the screen, let alone blink afraid that he might miss something if he did. There had to be something that gave her away, there had to be. Watching the footage as he followed her, was when he saw a car. It had been in every shot of his footage and Ghost was going in the same direction.

Tracing the license plate, he found who the car belonged to and tracked the name down. Printing the paper, he grinned to himself and walked over with it held tightly in his hand. Pushing past Jason and Dick, he pressed the picture to the glass.

"Who is Samantha Wilkins and why are you following her?" he asked.

"Where's my food? Duke said he was going to get me something to eat," she answered, looking him dead in the eye.

"You'll get it once you answer the question. Who is Samantha Wilkins and why are you following her?" he asked once more.

"Listen here kid, bring me my food and I might talk. I haven't eaten in over twenty-four hours and I am starting to get a little pissed." she crossed her arms, shifting her weight to one leg with a triumphant look to her stance.

Dick turned to look at Duke and waved him over. "Bring the assassin her sandwich," he called.

"One sandwich for the scary-ass assassin coming up," Duke said and slid it through the flap in the door.

Rory's mouth salivated at the sight of the food in front of her, she went to pick it up when she stopped mid grab. The mask she wore covered her entire face, there was no way she was going to eat and keep it on.

Slowly, she looked to the side and glanced at the people who stood in front of her. Most of them already knew who she was, and if Damian hadn't figured it out yet then he wasn't paying much attention.

"I know who you are Sonnet, just take the damn mask off and eat the sandwich." Damian snapped, crossing his arms and glaring at her.

Rory let out a sigh and unclasped the mask from her face, her vision going from the red of the lenses to the natural coloring of the real world. Her hair was a mess of tangles and loose strands hung in front of her face, as she tried to blow them away.

She looked worse for wear than the last time Dick and Jason saw her. The bags that hung under her eyes were more prominent and, there was no life to her face. Her cheeks were sullen and her lips seemed to be in a permanent frown. This new life she led was kicking her ass and slowly killing her, but Rory wasn't going to stop until the job was done.

Setting the mask to the side, Rory sat on the cot and ate her sandwich. They were all watching her, she could feel their gazes without looking up. After taking a few bites, she let out a sigh. "Samantha Wilkins is my next target," she answered.

"So you're here to kill her?" Dick asked.

Slowly, Rory nodded her head refusing to look up. "Yes, but there is more to it than that. She is more than what she seems, Samantha has ties to the League of Assassins and is not a very nice person." she took another bite. "I have no idea how dangerous she really is, but a person with those kinds of connections is not good."

"So you've been trying to take down the League of Assassins then?" Jason questioned.

Rory stayed quiet, that was only partially true. Yes, that was what she was doing, but it wasn't why she was doing it. It was why she left Gotham in the first place, and it was ironic that it was the reason she came back almost a year later.

"You're not going to answer that one?" he asked.

"You won't like my answer, and the fewer people know the better," she said shortly.

"That's bullshit, you just don't want to tell us." he snapped.

She took a deep breath before finishing her sandwich. "I told you before, there's more to this than either of you know. I can't explain because it would only put a target on your back."

Bruce stood there silently, going over the evidence in his head. Rory was smart, smart enough to avoid them all for a year. If she said that there was more to this than they knew, and it was safer that way. It had to do with the League, but she was the one who started hunting down the League members first.

Or, were they the ones hunting her?

That group of assassins from the night before seemed adamant to take her out, but why?

The sound of two more bikes pulling in snapped them all out of their trance. Every single of them turned to look at Tim pull in with Stephanie behind him and they were laughing about something that had happened.

Hearing his laughter, Rory dove for her mask only knocking it to the floor with a loud clatter. Tim stopped laughing and looked up at the cell, dropping the items he held in his hands.

Everything about her was different, from the color of her hair to the color of her eyes but he would know that look from anywhere. She always had that look about her, she wasn't looking at you or through you even. Her gaze was locked inside you, taking in every bit of information she could as she listened. Looking at her now, how could he have not noticed who she was before?

He had spent the better part of almost three years with her, to the point Tim had her body memorized in his mind's eyes. It was either the time away, or the pain she had left him in that pushed those memories away not wanting to make the connection to protect his heart from her.

Stephanie was frozen in place as she stared at the girl behind the glass and then looked back at Tim who wore the same shocked expression she did.

Tim swallowed and opened his mouth. "Songbird?"

#Costly Affairs #Tim Drake #Timothy Drake #tim drake fanfic #tim drake fanfiction #tim drake fic #tim drake x oc #Red Robin #red robin fanfic #red robin fanfiction #red robin fic #red robin x oc #DC comics #The Archer #The Aurora Queen Saga #Aurora Queen

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