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lastxviolet · 3 years

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Madripoor is for Lovers - Ch. 1

Summary: Y/N is a SWORD agent recruited to help Sam and Bucky track down Karli and the super-soldiers. When Helmut Zemo joins the team, he takes a special interest in her. The friendly union is wrought for disaster, but then things take a turn for the worst when Y/N is taken as collateral. Will Zemo keep her forever? Does she even want to escape? And what happened in Madripoor that made the whole thing so complicated?

Warnings: 18+ / eventual smut / kidnapping

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32878015/chapters/81589774

“Don’t scream,” a voice whispered in your ear, low and slow. “I do not wish to harm you.”

His hand wrapped around your mouth and the other snaked around your waist. The cool metal of a gun pressed into your ribs. He pulled you tight and fast against his body with ease.

You knew who it was, of course. It was the only person in the room not fighting in the pit of madness. The duel between a super soldier, the new Captain America, and the Dora Milaje hadn't been tempting. But it’d been him to grab your arm to pull you away from the fighting when Sam had yelled for help and now you knew why.

“Don’t do this,” you hissed against his hand.

Zemo pulled you backward, inch by agonizing inch.

You clicked your heels against the floor hoping to knock something over along the way. Anything to get Sam and Bucky’s attention. No one even glanced your way.

“None of that, Liebling,” he whispered, lips brushing your ear. His grip on your waist tightened as you passed through the bathroom threshold. What was worse, you wondered. Seeing your team; your friends disappear behind the closed double doors. Or the goosebumps from Zemo’s breath hot on your neck.

With his gun aimed at you, he knelt near the bathtub and pushed it aside to reveal an escape hatch in the floor. You watched him unlatch it and then smirk, surprised that his plan was going so well. That smirk made your blood boil.

“I’m more hassle than I’m worth,” you warned, casting a hesitant glance down the manhole.

He motioned for you to jump down first. “But you are excellent collateral.”

The noise of battle continued beyond the doors, much to your disappointment. They weren’t going to notice in time. Sam and Bucky had looked out for you but their alliance superseded any with you. Sam had only known you for a few months, and Bucky even less. You shot a prayer into the ether that they'd think of you if only this one time.

“You overestimate my importance to them,” you hissed.

Zemo looked up with dark and serious eyes. Usually, when aimed at you, they were less so. You wouldn't have considered him a friend, by any means. But in the last few weeks, he'd become a quiet, witty companion, who infuriated you less than most. Especially when Sam and Bucky spent most of the mission bickering about the plans you had made.

“Perhaps you underestimate yourself,” he cooed, shaking his head.

Sewage stink hit your senses immediately. This would not be pleasant. The drop was too short to give you the time to make a run for it. A second after your feet hit the ground, Zemo returned his gun to your head, with a smile.

“This way.”

Fighting was pointless, that much you knew. You hadn’t been recruited by Sam for your fighting abilities, as Zemo hadn’t been recruited for his. You were handy with a gun but tracking and strategy were your specialties. They’d taken you far in the military, and then as an anomaly investigator and agent with SWORD. And now, they’d brought you here, kidnapped, with a gun to your head in the back of Zemo’s car.

The driver was off towards the airstrip without any further commotion. You watched the road behind you, hopeful to see Sam or Bucky run up on the car. You could've even settled for a Dora Milaje with murder in their eyes and Zemo’s name on their tongue but it was empty.

Once on the plane, you sat in the furthest seat towards the back. Angry, hurt, and nervous, because despite all the warning bells, you’d trusted him. There was clear hatred between your teammates and Zemo but it was different between the two of you. You had no past or grudges against one another. It was silly now to think that that made you believe that there was an understanding.

“I hope you don’t think me indecent,” he murmured, gesturing to an opaque scarf in his hands. He avoided your gaze before wrapping it around your face. “But it would be unwise for me to trust you with my location. You are too intelligent for your own good.”

“Is it normal for wardens to flatter their prisoners,” you hissed, hoping to land a blow.

You heard him sit in the seat across from you and felt his foot brush yours as he crossed his legs.

“Prisoner,” he chuckled. “You are my guest Y/N and I hope that in time, you will find that I can be an excellent host.”

“In time,” you repeated, weighing the consequences of not putting up a fight when you could. How long did he plan to keep you?

He was quiet then, and so were you. The choice of words lingering between you. It wasn't until after takeoff that he spoke again. A glimpse of his face would've given you the clues you desired but the tone of his words was enough. His exhaustion from relentless thought weighed his voice to a deep baritone. Sluggish and soft.

“I have no intention of living the rest of my days in a cell,” he whispered finally.

You couldn't feel bad for him, especially when his freedom came at the cost of your own. It was clear then that confidence and swagger were a disguise, for survival. You’d seen glimmers of the real pain lurking beneath the smirks and fur coat but you hadn’t thought that he’d let it win. It wasn't a disappointment but somewhat a relief to go toe to toe with the real man.

“You can’t run forever,” you reminded him in a soft tone, trying to coax the shadow of humanity left in him out further.

“Ah,” he sighed. “It feels nice to know that you can be wrong, Y/N. For a moment, I doubted that you were human.”

The words lit an angry fire inside you. You couldn’t see him but almost heard the cavalier shrug he threw in for effect. The fabric over your eyes covered the tops of your cheeks hiding the angry flush. You hated him for making this complicated. You hated yourself even more, for not screaming when you had the chance.

Except for the occasional page turn, the rest of the ride was silent, which was unusual for the two of you. There’d been an instant dialogue since the very first time you’d met a few weeks ago. Since then, quiet moments had been rare.

________

The Baron’s private plane had landed an hour ago, but no one was on the tarmac yet. It’d taken you, Sam, and Bucky that long to come to terms with the uniforms chosen for the night.

“You know you don’t have to Y/N.”

You rolled your eyes and glared at Sam through the small airplane mirror.

“I’m fine,” you reassured him before going back to gawking at the dress. Tight but not too short, seeing as you were posing as a baroness tonight in the mission to Madripoor. Sheer black fabric slung over one shoulder, sewn onto a bustier underneath. Simple. Elegant. You’d never worn anything like it.

Sam shook his head, mumbling something about this being a bad idea.

“It’s better than the Air Force uniform,” you smiled, knowing full well that that’d get at least a chuckle out of him. It did, earning the both of you a glare from Bucky who was the worst off tonight.

“No time like the present,” Zemo called from the front of the plane. The men left you, bickering about whose outfit was worse. You tried to follow but the only piece of jewelry, a silver charm necklace, put up a fight.

“Allow me?”

Zemo’s voice made you jump. He leaned against the door, with a hand outstretched towards you. Now that half the audience to entertain was gone, he looked more forlorn; less self-assured.

You nodded, moving your hair out of the way before handing the necklace to him. He smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes.

He did that a lot you had realized. After the fireworks at the beginning of the ride, he’d turned his attention to you. Smile bright, but the eye’s dead. One would think small talk was his forte but you knew better. It is an easy distraction; a way to put your opposition at ease. Regardless, you couldn't blame him for seeking to charm the only one on the flight that did not hate him.

“I don’t think that we met,” he’d stated, settling into the seat across from you. “Last time.”

“Don’t talk to her,” Bucky hissed. You knew he was trying to help but you waved him off, giving him a look that said ‘someone has to talk to him.’

“No, I’m new,” you’d told him, squinting at the artificial grin that didn’t leave his face. You guessed that conversation was difficult to come by in prison. It was a pity that he was an evil mastermind. His ability to fake friendliness rivaled the most talented US agents.

“How new?”

“A few weeks before you.”

His eyes twinkled at your commonality. They bore into yours, trying to decipher what you know of what he'd done. This look was how you knew the stories of his genius, were true. They scanned and shifted, guessing that you knew it all with one look. He was right, of course, and you thought that would be the end of it. Then, he surprised you. He asked about your family, schooling, job, passions, and interests. He spoke about the books he’d had in prison, and you teased him for even reading The Prince.

He smiled wider and wider as you spoke until Sam shot you a glare and you gave the Baron some excuse about sleep. But even when you closed your eyes, and curled up into the seat, you’d felt his eyes remain on your face.

Warm hands against your neck brought you out of the trance and back to the man who you should hate.

“It’s beautiful,” you whispered, watching his somber expression in the reflection.

“The sigil is — was, my family’s,” he stated, coming around to face you and fiddle with the charm. “You are playing the part of a baroness, after all. We need to make it believable.”

His lips curled into a soft smile at the royal word. A chill ran down your spine. Even though your conversation had been short, you hadn’t meant to enjoy it so much. Conversation was like pulling teeth with most of the people you knew, especially Sam and Bucky. And even when it came, it didn’t flow like this.

“There are worse roles,” you mused, shooting him a soft smile in return. “I could have to play the part of the mind-controlled assassin, or worse, the evil baron.”

He smirked. “Strenuous, yes. I have found that there is nothing more difficult to be, than yourself.”

“I don’t believe that.”

“You find it easy, to be yourself?”

“No, I don’t think that you are what you want us to believe.”

The words seemed to catch him off guard and you wondered the last person to show him any kindness was. Not that your words were kind.

Sam yelled some threat from the cabin about Zemo keeping his hands off of you, and you knew that your time was up. You ignored the pang of disappointment and looked up at the Baron's stone eyes.

“I am afraid that I will prove you wrong Y/N.”

You nodded and followed him out into the cold evening.

Low town was the target and as the four of you walked, the air was tense.

You nudged Bucky. “You ok?”

“Never better,” he sighed through gritted teeth.

A car appeared on the fluorescent bridge you were crossing as Zemo took his position next to you. Bucky stood on the other side of him, silent since you’d all marched out of the plane. You couldn't tell if it was memory that hardened his eyes or tonight’s assignment.

“You’re Bucky Barnes, born 1917,” you reminded the sullen soldier. “No more, no less.”

Zemo’s eyes squinted at your words, no doubt in disagreement but you avoided his gaze.

Bucky nodded and gave you a half-smile. It was as much as he could muster, especially when he had to become something he was trying so hard to forget. People have a way of finding their way back to themselves in time and you wondered how long he had left to go. The man who fought in WW2 was different from the man who fought against the Avengers. Both versions of him were different still from the man who'd turned silent in recent years.

“No matter what happens, we have to stay in character,” Zemo instructed as a car appeared on the bridge. “Our lives depend on it. There is no margin for error.”

You prepared yourself for the night ahead where you would look at the Baron with lust. It would feel strange to see him as something other than interesting and distrustful. Attraction to him was not far-fetched. He had a strong face and a sultry accent, but you stood on opposite sides of the moral spectrum in the end. Unfortunately, your realism in love hadn’t left you very open to romantic connections. From the little experience you had, it was clear that couples didn’t work if they didn't have a common goal. Yours was not the destruction of your friends and his was not to make the world a better place.

An arm snaked around your waist, cutting off the train of thought. You jumped and looked wide-eyed at Zemo.

“We are newlyweds, yes?”

His words sounded more like a question but a smile played on his lips. You nodded, unfamiliar with the feel of a confident man at your side.

“Right,” you confirmed, being the first one to break eye contact.

The car doors opened and you knew the driver was the first person to judge the performance. You let Zemo pull you towards the car and then hesitated as he walked to the passenger side. You glanced to the middle seat between Bucky and Sam in the back. Sensing your hesitation, Zemo pulled you close.

“Your performance has begun, Baroness Zemo.”

You smiled like he’d whispered a sweet nothing in your ear and drew close to return the favor.

“I’d keep my last name,” you breathed, earning a soft chuckle.

Despite the nerves, you let him pull you into his lap and tried your best to look lovesick. It wasn’t as difficult as you thought as his large hands held your waist, and one of your legs. He looked ahead, with a smug smile and ran small circles on your bare leg. The rush of goosebumps and the hitch of your breath gave you away within seconds. His smug smile turned devious in the reflection on the window.

“Das hast wunderschöne Augen.”

He whispered into the side of your head. You didn’t speak German, and even if you did, you doubted you'd want to hear something mundane or rude. Yet you could feel the hammering of your heart in each fingertip as he spoke in his native language.

A performance you reminded yourself. Two could play at whatever he was doing. You turned to glare at him before bringing a hand up to caress his cheek. The light scruff tickled your knuckles and you wondered what he’d look like with a beard. His brand of handsome wasn't rugged, even when he'd escaped the prison, he looked neat and clean. You rested your head against his shoulder and continued stroking his rounded cheeks. Being a few inches away from his face gave you a chance to study his features. It’d be good practice if you ever had to pick him out of a fleeing crowd, or a Madripoor police lineup.

Other powerful engines surrounded the car. Motorcycles with nosy drivers appeared in each window. He gripped your thigh harder, warning that the stakes were high, even here and it had to look real. A heat manifested between your legs, followed by a throbbing that you hoped he wouldn’t notice. It didn’t feel so much like an act anymore and in truth when ran your fingers through his hair, you did it out of desire. He sucked in a breath and gripped your waist like iron. The stern man didn't seem so impenetrable anymore, as your lips brushed his ear, following a sloppy pattern along his jaw. You ran your fingers through his hair roughly again and felt a slight gasp leave him. His eyes left the windows and found yours. Serious and challenging. His hand moved up towards the hem of your dress. The fabric put up less of a fight than you as he gripped your bare ass. He felt the heat then, releasing a noise from the back of his throat. His Adam’s apple bobbed and your kissing became frantic. Your lips buzzed from the pressure and his five o’clock shadow. His lips parted in anticipation but before you could make it, the car stopped.

Zemo released you immediately, nodding an apology to the driver. Pity, you thought, it felt like you were finally making him a little nervous.

Sam and Bucky averted their eyes as the group walked through the streets, trying to look normal. Again, Zemo slung an arm around your waist. You took this as your cue to drape yourself on his shoulder. He stared ahead like this was a death march and that a guillotine stood on the other side of the door with his name on it. He’d been here before, you remembered. The memories couldn’t have been pleasant judging by the way his mouth pressed into a tense line. Empathy came over you and you reached out to slip a hand under his coat to rest on his chest.

This broke the trance and he stared at you for a moment before a smug smile crept across his stone-cold expression. It would've annoyed you but not a second later, he reached up to hold your fingers against him. He pressed you into his sweater, rubbing each finger in an anxious pattern, the only sign of nerves at all. Even the heartbeat beneath his sweater was still steady and calm.

Zemo led you all through a packed crowd to a dim bar. The agent part of you wanted to stray from your role and look around to assess the situation. But your mind went blank as his hand dropped to your hip and guided you up against the bar. You faced a mirrored wall holding more extravagant bottles than you’d ever seen in your life.

Through the reflection, you watched Zemo claim ownership of his Baroness. Each of his hands gripped the railing on either side of you, pressing his chest into your exposed back. His large stature towered over you, but your eyes couldn't tear away from his hands. Their grip around the rounded corners was mesmerizing. In a flash, your brain conjured the image of him holding your legs apart with the same strength. You let out a shaking breath. The fur from his coat tickled your back, and you couldn't focus on his words to Sam as his breath hit your neck.

Disgruntled with the lack of vantage point, you turned in his arms, bringing your face a few inches from his. Intent on taking in the room, you rested your chin on his shoulder. People had noticed your group right away and hadn't stopped looking. You kept eye contact with some, all while kissing the Baron's neck. Only then, did you feel his heart rate quicken.

Zemo spoke to the bartender behind you, but you didn’t hear them. Again, he tested your boundaries by caressing your thigh underneath your short dress.

Newlyweds, you reminded yourself. Very horny, newlyweds.

Mesmerized by the raunchy crowd behind you, and the soft caress of his hand, you gave in again. You peppered wet kisses of longing against his jaw as he spoke to a man who’d come up on the other side of him. He swallowed hard but somehow, you doubted it was out of fear of the man that Bucky had in a chokehold a few moments later.

That was the last moment you remembered feeling calm that night. The moments after put your mission and lives in jeopardy. When the violence and fleeing had played out you'd realized that his hands had never left you. The safety of his grasp was far more dangerous than Madripoor. The feeling of relief when he’d found your waist again at Sharon’s party, had you kicking yourself.

“A very believable performance, Agent Y/N” he purred. “Well done.”

You smiled and glanced down at the few inches between the two of you. Drinking was not the best option tonight but it was too late. Vodka was already coursing through your veins.

“I’d call it compelling,” you smirked. “Not believable.”

He cocked his head to the side, eyeing you with curiosity and something else. Something ferocious that made you wonder why he didn’t have an army of devotees or a cult following. It was that look that made you question your willpower, for the first time ever.

“Why’s that?”

Exactly the question you’d been hoping for. He’d had the upper hand all night but that was going to change.

“Who would believe that I would actually fall for you,” you teased, tossing back the last of your drink.

That would’ve been the end of it for a lesser man but Zemo smiled, showing all his teeth. He was always intrigued by a challenge.

“Tell me, Y/N, who would you fall for?”

Your mouth went dry and although a smirk was still plastered to your lips, nerves rushed back in.

“As if I have time,” you laughed.

He returned the smile. “Gun to your head, then.”

The alcohol in your system whispered different answers. Irresponsible answers. Bringing them to fruition would give you more than you bargained for but you fought against them.

“I like nice men,” you whispered, watching his reaction. “Who don’t use animals for fashion.”

He chuckled and then a dark look passed over his face before he closed the gap between you. A step backward and you found yourself against a wall with nowhere to go. Zemo brought a hand to your neck, caressing the exposed skin and the chain resting there.

“Who says I am not a nice man?”

Now it was your turn to chuckle. “Your body count, history, profession…reputation.”

He nodded. “Ah, you mistake ambition and purpose for — cruelty.”

“I never said you were cruel. I know you don’t crave suffering. I know there was a reason…for what you did.”

He cocked his head again and pursed his lips, looking at you like a puzzle; something not yet solved.

The techno beat dissolved into a slower, bass-heavy, R&B song. The hand on your neck made its way down to your waist once again, pulling you in. You complied without a fight, letting the Baron lead you through a slow dance.

“Even I can be gentle,” he said after a while. “For you — I would even consider being sweet.”

The words sent shockwaves through your body, igniting every inch. He was a master of manipulation and a conniving son of a bitch who wanted your colleagues — friends, dead. And yet, your mind and body betrayed you. You squeezed him a little tighter and pulled in a little closer.

“And what about the fur coat,” you whispered, playing with the fuzzy material against his neck.

He surprised you with his laughter. He threw his head back in a genuine laugh and leaned into your neck to stifle the giggles.

“I have been in a prison jumpsuit for the last eight years, forgive me for my outdated fashion,” he cooed. You could feel the smirk against your skin.

“Is it real,” you asked, holding up the stupid furry flap.

“Of course. I am a Baron,” he responded, pulling you closer, staring at your lips.

#baron zemo #baron zemo x reader #baron zemo x you #the falcon & the winter soldier #baron zemo fic #zemo fic #zemo smut #zemo x reader #helmut zemo x reader #helmut zemo x you

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tiny-slasher · 4 years

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Billy Lenz x Reader | Coffee Shop AU

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

“U already know who this is... Coffee shop au but there's a competing coffee shop that sells holiday themed drinks depending on the day of the week (B I L L Y L E N Z I D E M A N D H I M)” - anon

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

Billy was pissed.

Stupid Coffee Shop with their stupid snowflakes- and who the hell painted that sorry excuse for a snowman on the front window?! It wasn't even December, and they already had decorations up and Holiday Specials advertised in big, bold lettering

Billy blew a stray strand of hair from his face, glaring out the window at the coffee shop across the street. Two years after they opened there, and he still couldn't believe they'd had the audacity to choose that location - maybe less that thirty feet away from the location of his shop. There he'd been, finally settled after years of therapy, content with the stability of his life, when they showed up.

Them and their hair...their clothes...their stupid face- stupid eyes-

They came and opened their shop, selling coffee a dollar cheaper than him and attracting half of his customers like moths to a flame. When Billy put up a sign advertising cookies, they advertised two-for-one deals. When he offered special holiday sales, they offered free cookies with any purchase on Tuesdays. When he advertised limited time coffee flavors, they advertised seasonal baked goods. Those with fewer tastebuds and lighter wallets began to switch to the other, lesser coffee shop within a couple of months, and Billy was left to suffer the consequences.

Granted, he still got good business, his coffee shop was unique, and obviously quite superior. Not only was he skilled in the art of coffee making, and served everything in ceramic cups unless otherwise specified, his shop was themed.

Each day was a different holiday, with different options for coffee. He had 'plain' options for those who just wanted a caffeine fix, but he had alternating holiday flavors for the more adventurous. And damn it, if someone wanted a Leprechaun Cappuccino on Thursday then too fucking bad! They’d have to show up on Monday like everyone else!

It had started off with just Christmas themed brews all year 'round, but he'd expanded after the first year. He hated having to explain the menu to new customers every single time they showed up, but he did enjoy messing around with different types of latte art. That is, if everyone stopped ordering the iced coffee...

Glancing back at his rival, he snarled.

Billy hated them. He hated their coffee shop, he hated their smile, he hated their dumb laugh-

He'd often see them through the window, putting a sign out front, or sweeping off the front step before they opened. They looked dumber and dumber each time he saw them. Sometimes they had the nerve to wave at him and yell out a greeting like they had no idea they were rivals, and Billy hated it. He wanted to get rid of them. He wanted to dump boiling coffee over their head. He wanted to rip out their intestines and-

Bad Billy! Bad for having bad thoughts again! Stupid, nasty Billy! Stupid-

Billy took in a long, deep breath, just like his therapist taught him to, focusing on the way his lungs filled with air and collapsed when he exhaled. He played with the hem of his sweater, worn from years of doing so, feeling the way the fibers ran across his fingertips. He sighed, wishing for just one day without intrusive thoughts, but knowing he'd never be granted that sort of reprieve. No, it wasn't something he'd ever be cured from...but it was something he was learning to manage better as the years went by.

He glanced around the shop, hoping none of the customers noticed his little episode. Thankfully, they all seemed absorbed in their activities and conversations.

Billy sighed, a bit relieved. He wiped off some glitter that had fallen onto the counter from the tinsel hanging above him, hoping none had gotten into his hair again, when the front door of the shop opened. Glancing up he saw a woman and a young boy walk in and make their way over to the counter. They were regulars, coming every single Tuesday for the Valentine's Day special.

"Welcome to ‘Fa-la-latte’, what can I get'cha?" Billy asked with a smile plastered on his face.

"I'd like a Sweetheart iced coffee," she gestured towards the boy. "And he just wants a strawberry muffin. To go, please."

Billy nodded and spun around to get to work, withholding the eye roll he nearly gave her. If he had one more customer order the iced coffee he was going to take it off the menu.

He didn't notice the bell on the door ring, too focused on his internal dialogue and making a damn good iced coffee (or, as good as iced coffee is going to get). Even if he had to make the same damn thing every Tuesday, he wasn't one to disappoint.

Shoving the lid of the coffee with one hand, he grabbed a muffin in the other, putting it in a bag and setting them both on the counter. The boy, like any child would, grabbed the muffin almost immediately, and Billy rang up the price on the cash register. While the woman pulled out her card, Billy saw the person behind them.

Billy's eye twitched and his pupils narrowed at the sight before him.

It was them.

The absolute nerve this person had was astonishing. They thought it'd be okay to just show up whenever they wanted? In his shop? The shop they were practically stealing money from by simply existing? With their little stupid, ugly smile, and their stupid-

"Thank you!" the woman's loud voice broke Billy out of his thoughts, taking her coffee and exiting the shop with the boy in tow.

Billy's knuckles were white as they walked up to him, a smile on their face. He saw through their facade. He wasn't falling for that sweet demeanor.

"Wow, they weren't kidding when they said you had a lot of options!" they said, eyes wide as they looked at the signs above Billy's head. "It must be exhausting having to have a different menu for each day!"

Billy's jaw began to hurt from clenching, eyes raking over their form as they rattled on about things he didn't care about.

"So, Tuesday is Valentine's Day, huh? What would you recommend for a newcomer?"

Billy blinked, "What?"

"I came to try it out myself! Everybody keeps raving about how good your stuff is, and I wanted firsthand experience!"

Oh. Oh this sneaky- They wanted to taste it so they could copy him! They wanted to steal his ideas and sell it for half price! He was so close to just leaning over the counter and grabbing them by the throat-

But, he couldn't just cause a scene in front of his loyal customers! This coffee shop was supposed to be their quiet space, where everyone could just relax and enjoy themselves. He wasn't about to ruin it for them, and risk losing business.

Gathering himself, Billy gave them a sickly sweet smile, "Well, everyone orders the Sweetheart Iced Coffee."

They shifted on their feet, "Is that what you would order?"

Oh they were good...

"No," Billy leaned on the counter. "I'd order the latte."

They glanced up to the sign, "Just a regular latte?"

"Yup."

Seemingly dumbfounded, they shrugged and said, "Alright. One medium latte, please!"

Sending them one last smile before he turned around, Billy scowled and got to work.

Who'd they fucking think they were? 'oNe MeDiUm LaTtE pLeAsE!' Like he was gonna make them one of his specialty drinks anyway! Still...if they were out for his recipe, they would've been more insistent to order a specialty drink, wouldn't they? He glanced back at them, watching the way they looked around the shop with an awed expression. Their acting skills were top notch, he'd give them that.

Billy shook his head, trying to stop himself from mumbling. A few phrases escaped his lips despite his efforts. He heard them laugh softly, and he nearly burst a blood vessel trying not to scream at them to get out. An image of stabbing them in the eyes with a candy cane abruptly took over his thoughts, and he couldn't help but muse over it with a satisfied hum. He'd watch as their blood warmed the candy in his hands, mixing into a sugary, sticky mess-

NO! Bad Billy! Bad, bad, BAD BILLY! Naughty, NASTY-

Billy closed his eyes for a moment, focusing on the way the coffee machine hummed.

"You have her father's love, Demetrius. Let me have Hermia's. Do you marry him?" Billy muttered in a low voice, steaming some milk with an iron grip. "Scornful, Lysander! True, he hath my love-"

"Are you quoting Shakespeare?"

Billy pointedly ignored them, trying not to break the handle on his coffee machine as he turned the steamer off while he murmured to himself, a bit softer than before, "And what is mine my love shall render him. And she is mine, and all my right of her, I do estate unto Demetrius."

He poured the milk into the coffee, swirling it into a neat, but not overly exotic heart. It was Valentine's Day themed, after all, and he wasn't about to get ridiculed for a sloppy job. Turning to set it down in front of them, he was briefly stunned to find they'd moved to sit over at the bar near him. His fingers twitched as he inhaled sharply, plastering a smile back on his face as he shakily set the cup down in front of them.

Their eyes scanned him for a long moment before falling to the latte in front of them, sending him a small smile and a thanks. Billy gave them a sickening "You're welcome" before turning to clean up, ignoring the pleased hum they gave after their first sip. He was mumbling to himself again while he washed out some used cups when they spoke.

"So, are you in a play?"

Billy paused for a moment, confused, "What?"

"Oh, you were just reciting lines, so I thought maybe you were trying to keep them memorized," they shrugged, and then lifted their cup of coffee. "This is really good, by the way!"

"Were you expecting it to be bad?" he bit out, a bit more harshly than intended.

"No, no! I'm just used to coffee that's not so great," they shrugged.

"If you wanted bad coffee, you should've ordered the Americano," Billy mumbled.

The laugh he earned stunned him, his thoughts pausing for a moment to take in the sight of their smile. Despite his suspicions, the twinkle in their eyes seemed genuine enough... It would be so easy to put that light out...make their eyes as dull as his own can be. Turn the whites into a scarlet-stained-

A cup shattered in Billy's grasp, slicing the silence like a knife through butter. A curse escaped his lips before he thought better of it, echoing throughout the room. Some of the customers looked in his direction. Billy wanted to apologize, but his voice wouldn't cooperate. He lowered his head a bit, hiding his face behind a curtain of hair, and shakily gathered the broken ceramic from the sink. Thankfully, he hadn't cut himself.

You should have, stupid, stupid Billy! You deserve it! Bad Billy! Bad-

"Are you alright?"

Billy turned to them, eyes manic. He relished in the way they tried to hide their discomfort.

"I'm fine," he bit out.

Billy seized the opportunity for a bathroom break, escaping the hellscape that was his coffee shop. Standing in the middle of the small bathroom, he spent the next few minutes trying to even his breathing. In, and out. In, and out. The breathing technique left a lot to be desired, and didn't do much for his racing thoughts...but it was better than nothing. If anything, at least he could tell his therapist he'd put in the effort. He glanced at his reflection in the mirror, unsurprised to see a murderous gaze looking back at him.

"If we shadows have offended, think but this and all is mended," Billy muttered, hands gripping the sink. "That you have but slumbered here, while these visions did appear. Heh! Dramatic."

Shaking himself off, Billy inhaled and exited the restroom.

They were still there, sipping their coffee and eyeing him as he walked back behind the counter. He sent them a smile, as though nothing had happened less than five minutes before. They blinked at him, confused, but Billy paid them no mind. Instead, he decided to make himself a latte. His hands were still quite shaky, and his heart had yet to really calm itself down. He fumbled with the steamer a bit, but managed to complete the drink with no mishaps.

"So...which holiday is your favorite?"

Billy stared at them as he sipped his latte.

"Mine is Halloween! I'm curious to know what the Death Brew tastes like," they smiled. "Is it bitter?"

Billy's eyes were glued to them as they patiently awaited his answer, and he took his time swallowing his coffee. They wanted to know what his brew tasted like, huh? They were definitely out to steal his recipe.

"It tastes like death," he replied. "Hints the name."

He jumped when they laughed out loud, apparently finding his sarcasm amusing. Billy hated the little butterfly that flew around in his tummy, and promptly squashed it with an eye roll and a huff.

Billy watched as they continued to look around at all the different decorations adorning the coffee shop, seemingly in admiration, but he couldn't be too sure. This person was crafty, and he had to be ready for anything. They were clearly looking for some way to ridicule him, or one-up him, and he would not allow it.

Still...the twinkle in their eyes...and the soft smile that settled on their lips...

"Christmas."

Their sparkling eyes turned back to Billy, "What?"

"My favorite holiday is Christmas," Billy said.

They smiled at him, "I should've known...there's a lot of tinsel hanging around in here."

Billy looked down at his latte, trying to sort through his racing thoughts. He hadn't felt this unsettled in a while, and it was a feeling he hadn't wished to relive.

"Your place is a lot calmer than mine," they said airily. "It's nice..."

Billy's eye twitched. He couldn't tell if that was a compliment, or a well-hidden insult. He just hummed in reply, trying not to appear as frazzled as he felt. However, he was sure the trembling in his hands was giving him away.

"Christmas is on Saturday, right?" they asked.

He nodded and they gave him a sweet smile.

"Well, I might have to come back in a few days, then," they replied, hopping off of the bar stool. "I'll see you around! Thanks for the coffee!"

Baffled, Billy watched them leave with his mouth hanging open. He stared until he saw them disappear behind the door of their own coffee shop.

Everything about that interaction had gone strangely, in his mind, and he wasn't sure if it was because it had been strange or if it was just him who found it odd. They'd seemed genuinely curious about everything, not with ill intentions in mind. However, they'd left so abruptly...almost like they did it on purpose.

They were probably scared of Billy. They probably heard him mumbling nasty things under his breath and ran away- T-they knew Billy is bad! They knew Billy has bad thoughts! Bad, bad thoughts! They- They...

They didn't fucking pay for their coffee.

Billy nearly saw red, glaring at the empty cup that sat on the counter. With shaking hands he grabbed it, doing his best not to toss it across the room in frustration. He froze, however, when he saw a small slip of paper flutter on the table where the cup had been sitting. Curiosity peaked, Billy set the cup in the sink and then picked the paper up between in fingers.

"Feel free to stop by my shop any time for a free coffee! We've got lattes ;)"

Billy didn't enjoy the way his face felt as it flushed, and he really didn't enjoy this new feeling of butterflies in his stomach. And yet, a grin split on his face, and a cackle escaped his lips, earning a few glances. He turned to see them staring at him through their own window. They grinned and waved at him, and he choked.

If they were so insistent on stealing his recipes, he'd just have to return the favor. He wanted to see what all those customers saw in their stupid coffee shop. They probably batted their stupid eyelashes at people, and smiled their stupid smile-

Their stupid, goofy smile... Made their eyes crinkle at the corners... He could think of many different ways they could use that mouth of theirs-

No! Bad, naughty Billy! Having naughty thoughts at work! Bad! Bad! BAD!

#billy lenz #billy lenz x reader #slasher #slashers #coffee shop au

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shitpostingfromthebarricade · 3 years

Text

@themandilorian tagged me to answer fic questions! Thank youuuuuuuuuu, I love doing these. <3

how many works do you have on AO3?

Christ, 84 plus the Witcher crackfic I wrote under my incredibly subtle pseud.

what’s your total AO3 word count?

388,267, though I have a fic that'll probably be hitting 70k before it's all said and done that'll be going up ... before November? So 450k soon.

how many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

Uh, depends how you count fandoms. Realistically, just one (Les Mis), but according to the fandoms view I also technically write for Untitled Goose Game and 19th Century CE France RPF. And Witcher.

what are your top 5 fics by kudos?

The View From Here (aka the balcony fic)

Define "Dating" (my second to oldest published fic ft Enjolras trying to take Grantaire out on dates and Grantaire in severe denial)

Early Mornings, Late Nights (the one where Grantaire wakes up early and Enjolras stays up late)

By the Glory of the Sun (amnesia AU ft horny Grantaire)

Rainy Days (kidfic ft calls from the principal and no kid)

do you respond to comments, why or why not?

I dooooooooo. <3 I spend so much time creating these fics and inventing details and backstories that never make it to the light of day, so I love having an excuse to talk more about the story and process. Also, I just love hearing from y'all? Of course I'll respond???

what’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Ah, hm, several of those, angst was my specialty for a long while. It still sometimes is, but it was, too. Maybe The Lies We Tell Ourselves in the Dark? Prague is just sad the whole way through, same with Enjolras's Prayer and The Tempest. His Love Letter also starts more innocuous and gets sadder.

have you ever received hate on a fic?

Not including most responses to Empereur's Mercy (<3), not really?

I do know that one fic wasn't particularly well-received, but that's because it was a fic I wrote directly in response to someone being an asshole in a friend's comments and didn't include the context for privacy reasons. The fic was a very pointed response with lots of quotes from the other person, but without having seen the original conversation it can be easily interpretted as a general criticism, so I see why people weren't thrilled.

do you write smut? if so what kind?

Not really. There has been one glaring exception (What Greater Thing is There?), and another will be up soon-ish, but any smut I ever publish with either be exclusively to advance the plot or as pure crack.

have you ever had a fic stolen?

If you count those apps that were hosting peoples' fics without permission, yes, but otherwise no. I've been very lucky in that way.

have you ever had a fic translated?

HeavenlyGift translated Define "Dating" into Russian!!!

have you ever co-written a fic before?

It's not published yet, but thecandlesticksfromlesmis and I are about to hit three years (17 Sep, I think?) co-writing the fic that inspired All That's Left of Us!

what’s your all time favorite ship?

Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh ... I dunno. I'm not sure. Valjean & Cosette (ampersand is platonic)? Courfius? Whatever those two funky lesbians in Sailor Moon have going on? Anne and Gilbert? Fantine and A Fucking Break?

what’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

I recently decided that I'm going to revisit my Giant Fic and make an effort to finish it even though my HCs don't align anymore!! Otherwise, I have a ton of ideas and kinda WiPs that could be finished but probably won't be simply by merit of there being so many. The one that comes to mind as being one that my HCs grew beyond before I could do more than outline it is the bodyswap fic with Combeferre and Grantaire that would have needed to be written from 3 PoVs and would have come out to probably ... 40k? A lot of effort for something I only ever had about 16k worth of interest in.

what are your writing strengths?

I think banter, pacing, and (when I choose to) worldbuilding.

what are your writing weaknesses?

Anything involving physical affection. @thepiecesofcait is always the first to point out the absolute hoops I don't even realize I put myself through to avoid writing physical contact. I've been trying to expand my horizons, but also consider: I could not.

what are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

INCREDIBLY contextual. I think if it's the PoV character, you write what they understand: if they do understand the language, write it in the language of the rest of the fic. If they don't, don't put words that they can't understand, just say "[person] says wome words in a language [PoVC] doesn't understand." If the other person is throwing in slang or swearing or something alongside the common language, it makes sense to put it in the other language verbatim, but that's mostly because it's one of those things where even if the PoV character can't understand the exact word, they can probably figure out the meaning with context clues.

Also, of course, a good pun may require language swapping. Gotta have it.

If you do feel compelled to keep it in the original language, though, I would say to figure out linked footnotes so the reader can see the meaning immediately if it's important enough to include. This often breaks up the flow of the story/conversation, though, so use it wisely.

what was the first fandom you wrote for?

Definitely Les Mis, although 7yo Shitposting loved daydreaming about a slumber party with all of the Disney princesses talking about palace life and their husbands and such. (I still have not seen Wreck It Ralph 2, but the trailer fulfilled every single childhood dream of mine.)

what’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

This is like asking my to choose a favorite child??????

I'm still extremely proud of en l'Année 2014, but as I started listing the other fics that still spark joy for me, it's occurring to me that my favorite fics are ones where I got to explore new character dynamics and relationships eg Courfius, Fantine & Marguerite, Valjean & Cosette, Ep & Gav, Javert's backstory in the Web Series AU, etc.

Tagging @starkey, @serinesaccade, @thelibrarina, @annabrolena, @lesbianjolllly, and anyone else who wants to do this!

#tag game #personal #writing #this was really really fun and I am so happy I got to do it #even if I did it instead of getting ready for work WHOOPS

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dianapocalypse · 3 years

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Alright y’all, with the release of Mass Effect: Legendary Edition, it’s time for me to share my playlist for the entire trilogy.

I’ve refined this over like six years so scientifically speaking it’s probably good right. oh also it’s four hours long. so if you have a road trip or a boring job, this one’s for you. disclaimer, it’s entirely possible I have garbage taste in music. I also missed some characters and moments because there’s 65 songs here and I am merely human.

If you don’t have the patience for four hours, I recommend starting at track 45 and listening to the end, as the Mass Effect 3 portion is the strongest in my opinion.

UNDER THE CUT FOR DESCRIPTIONS WE GO!

FIRST MOVEMENT - MASS EFFECT 1

1. Atlas - Coldplay Eden Prime

“Sometimes the wire Must tense for the note Caught in the fire, say oh We're about to explode“

I really like the atmosphere of this song. It’s ominous, but also somehow hopeful, and makes me feel like Something Huge Is Coming.

2. I Will Not Sing A Hateful Song - Constantines Paragon Shepard

“But I was also born and raised To always speak and listen clear To know the last sound that I make Could be the last sound that I hear“

OK, listen, I think this song is about vampires, and I’m not sure if it’s supposed to be a metaphor or not. But I think this is a great song about controlling one’s temper, about knowing that you have to Rise Above the parts of you that want to lash out sometimes to get things done and have peace. Seeing as how paragon Shepard, to me, always seems like they’re three deep breaths away from snapping, but manage to keep it in check, it fits them to a T.

And also maybe they’re a vampire.

3. Hard to Kill - Beth Crowley Renegade Shepard

“So I let the rumors Turn me into a legend 'Cause I'm only human But a good myth is hard to kill”

This one’s a recent addition, but holy cow, I love it for Renegade Shep, particularly an Earthborn or Ruthless, but it works for any of them.

4. We Own the Skies - Five Iron Frenzy Joker

“My hands are bleeding where they often crack The stars will sometimes burn with longing Through the choking black Of night shifts piling each against the next”

This really vibes with Joker’s backstory for me, his super driven serious self in flight school, contrasted with who he is when he can fly a ship. He’s the best pilot in the goddamn fleet and I love him.

5. I Just Wanna See - Smash Mouth Kaidan Alenko

“Mister moon checkin' on how y'all livin' The stars all winkin' at the day that's dimmin' I just wanna see”

This song fits into his reactions to first showing up at the Citadel and his former romanticism about living in space. Ironically, it’s a song about Earth, but I feel like it works well for him. Also, Smash Mouth absolutely sounds like the kind of music Kaidan would listen to, no I will not be taking questions or constructive criticism.

6. Don’t Give Up - Noisettes Ashley Williams

“She's got a talented face and a suitcase Ain't got no desire to go no place In her case she's got no desire with her hand in the flame say's she don't feel the fire “

The energy of this song is just perfect for Ashley’s no-nonsense chip on her shoulder attitude.

7. About As Helpful As You Can Be Without Being Any Help At All - Dan Mangan The Council

“I was thrown in the boat/Cast out to sea Friendly with waves/There were sharks below Hungry for me/So I dangled my leg”

I mean, the title says it all.

8. The Captain - Guster Anderson

“Courageous, just like the captain Marching forward with no doubt in his head”

I have adored this song ever since my friend played it for me, and it’s the ultimate mentor-protégé jam for me.

9. Secret Agent Man - Johnny Rivers Garrus Vakarian

“Here's a man who leads a life of danger To everyone he meets he stays a stranger Oh, with every move he makes another chance he takes The odds are he won't live to see tomorrow”

I have to poke a little fun at Garrus and how seriously he takes himself in Mass Effect 1. I romanced him across four playthrus, I’m allowed!

10. I’m Getting Too Old For This Shit - Kill Lincoln Urdnot Wrex

“This random apathy/I swear it's killing me But I guess it's all the same, till the devil knows my name”

I don’t know ANYTHING about this band, but this song fits Wrex’s disillusionment with the Krogan well, plus, like. The title. (And also, that he secretly DOES care what happens to the Krogan.)

11. Bird Song - Juniper Vale Tali’zorah nar Rayya

“I want to dance on the horizon line But there is something I am caged behind I have a heart made for take flight But I'm low, so low”

I adore this song and the sound of Juniper Vale in general. The etherealness of this one, combined with the youthful optimism, feels very Tali. The line about ‘something I am caged behind’ works well for the suits, too. This one’s especially good if you’re a Talimancer!

12. 11. Green Garden - Laura Mvula Liara T’Soni

“And I’ll fly on the wings of a butterfly High as a tree top and down again Putting my bag down, taking my shoes off Walk on the carpet of green velvet”

I really like this song’s vibes and I feel like Liara fits it well, particularly in ME1, before all her youthful optimism is stripped from her. The scenery descriptions feel very Thessia, too.

13. Feed Me (Git It) - Little Shop of Horrors The Thorian

“The guy sure looks like plant food to me!”

Do you get it. Do you get my joke. It’s because the Thorian is a plant that eats people. (I’m not funny)

14. Blindness - Metric Matriarch Benezia

“I was a blind fool, never complained All the survivors singing in the rain “

I don’t love the use of blind here as a negative, albeit metaphorical, descriptor, but I think this song fits Benezia’s indoctrination and death well. If you have suggestions for another, though, let me know!

15. Technologic - Daft Punk Saren

“Buy it, use it, break it, fix it, trash it, change it, mail, upgrade it”

I just think it’s Neat

16. Watershed - Vienna Teng The Reapers

“ While you were building your empires I was still sleeping”

I think this is the song that inspired the entire playlist. Vienna Teng sat down and decided to write a song from the perspective of a natural disaster, and it’s so ominous and gut-wrenching.

17. Hourglass - The Hush Sound Virmire

“This is how it ends We believe every lie and say we'll be friends How long will it last? Before we scratch all the scripts and we rework the cast “

hahahahah rework the cast get it because you have to pick who DIES

Seriously tho I really like this song for Virmire and that moment of choice that feels like it lasts 100 years on some playthroughts.

18. Pompeii - Bastille The Siege of the Citadel

“ And the walls kept tumbling down In the city that we love”

Throwback to when this song was on the radio like three times an hour. Which is around the time I made the first draft of this playlist, incidentally! It’s such a good Final Battle Jam for the Citadel, and the part about “if you close your eyes/does it almost feel like nothing’s changed at all” I think work really well for Shepard in this sequence. Shepard knew the Reapers were coming, had been fighting them all along; this attack on the Citadel is just retreading familiar territory for them, as horrifying as the war being brought to their doorstep is for the Citadel’s citizens and the council. James Vega has some good dialogue about that kind of thing in ME3.

INTERLUDE THE FIRST

19. Starships - Nicki Minaj The Normandy Crew

Starships were meant to fly Hands up and touch the sky

I like to have a little fun OK

20. Gravity - Yoko Kanno The Death of Commander Shepard

“Am I alone? is somebody there beyond these heavy aching feet still the road keeps on telling me to go on”

Welcome to mood whiplash, it’s my specialty! This is the part where you die. I think it also works for her coma very well, when she’s just drifting between life and death, not sure what’s going on, but something keeps trying to pull her back to the world.

SECOND MOVEMENT - MASS EFFECT 2

21. The Phoenix - Fall Out Boy The Lazarus Project

“Hey young blood, doesn't it feel like our time is running out? I'm gonna change you like a remix Then I'll raise you like a phoenix “

this song has no right to go as hard as it does and if you think it’s melodramatic shut up

22. My Body Is A Cage - Peter Gabriel Commander Shepard

“I'm living in an age Whose name I don't know Though the fear keeps me moving Still my heart beats so slow “

This works particularly well if you romanced The Virmire Survivor, but this song captures the energy of Shepard freaking out bc they are trapped with Cerberus, because Cerberus rebuilt their body from the ground up. That jarring, caged feeling is so palpable in ME2 that when they gave me back Joker the first time I played, I BURST INTO SOBS from relief.

23. The Lady is a Vamp - The Spice Girls Miranda Lawson

“That's all in the past, legends built to last But she's got something new”

Listen. She’s a bond babe. Handbags, heels and pistols rock. She’s got class. This is a song about Miranda. That is all.

24. Kryptonite - 3 Doors Down Jacob Taylor

“ I watched the world float to the dark side of the moon After all I knew, it had to be something to do with you “

This one’s about the Vibes for me. Also can apply to his past relationship with Miranda. I’m also super showing my age on this song, oof haha.

25. Stable Song - Death Cab For Cutie Colony Abduction

“Rows of deserted houses all Our stable mates highway bound “

I really like the mood of this one for showing up on the very first abducted colony, the eerieness and sadness of it all and Shepard’s resolve to do something about it.

26. Konichiwa Bitches - Robyn Kasumi Goto

“I'm so very hot that when I rob your mansion You ain't call the cops, you call the fire station”

THAT COUPLET ALONE MAKES THE ENTIRE SONG. I love how playful and cheeky it is.

27. Seven Nation Army Glitch Mob Remix - The White Stripes, Glitch Mob Zaeed Massani

“And I'm talking to myself at night Because I can't forget Back and forth through my mind Behind a cigarette”

Pretty sure we all had this on some playlist or another when it came out, and it’s the perfect Badass With A Grudge song.

28. Science is Real - They Might Be Giants Mordin Solus

“ And when a theory emerges Consistent with the facts The proof is with science The truth is with science “

This one actually got added by my wife to replace a song that wasn’t on Spotify, but that has the same energy; Hank Green’s “I Fucking Love Science”. I get more into the emotional side of Mordin in the ME3 section, but I also really just love his Hamster On Coffee energy and this song captures it really well.

29. Prove Yourself - Radiohead Garrus Vakarian

“I can't afford to breathe in this town Nowhere to sit without a gun in my hand Hooked back up to the cathode ray

I'm better off dead “

The absolute rock bottom mental state Garrus is in when you get back to him in ME2 is so heartwrenching. Might not always agree with my boy’s methods, but he’s one of my favorite fictional characters of all time.

30. Rat a Tat - Fallout Boy Feat. Courtney Love Jack

“We are professional ashes of roses, this kerosene's live You settled your score, this is where you come to beg”

It helps that Courtney Love sounds exactly like Jack to me, NGL.

31. Defeat You - Smash Mouth Grunt

“Hey I know what you've done It makes it that much better to defeat you “

Only I am brave enough to put two songs by Smash Mouth on the same playlist, to be shared in 2021

32. The Boy Who Blocked His Own Shot - Brand New Horizon/The Virmire Survivor

“If it makes you less sad I will die by your hand Hope you find out what you want Already know what I am “

Hits harder if you romanced the Virmire Survivor. Mostly from Shep’s perspective. This is a Shep that feels Bad after that encounter rather than Mad, so Your Mileage May Vary.

33. Violet Stars Happy Hunting! - Janelle Monae Tali’zorah vas Neema

“I'm an alien from outer space I'm a cyber-girl without a face a heart or a mind”

I just like the vibes of this one for Tali! I know it’s more about an actual AI but...IDK. I like it. So there.

34. Comfortably Numb - Pink Floyd Thane Krios

“There is no pain you are receding A distant ship smoke on the horizon”

This song works both on a Literal level with his Kepral’s syndrome struggles, but also Metaphorical re: his Battle Sleep. Plus, Thane is a dad, so he gets Dad Rock.

35. My Medea - Vienna Teng Samara

“For I have made her prison be Her every step away from me And this child I would destroy If you tried to set her free “

Mom of the year award, here

36. Toxic - Britney Spears Morinth

“There's no escape, I can't wait I need a hit, baby, give me it You're dangerous, I'm loving it”

If Morinth weren’t so under-utilized after recruitment and didn’t get killed off in the background of ME3 I’d probably actually recruit her sometimes. I almost did on my most recent playthru bc that Shepard just HATES SPACE COPS. Anyway the song explains itself

37. Turn me On - David Guetta feat. Nicki Minaj EDI/The Collector Attack

“My body needs a hero Come and save me Something tells me you know how to save me”

I know this song is a metaphor but also it works really well both literally and metaphorically for Joker saving EDI

38. Robots - Dan Mangan Legion

“Robots need love too They want to be loved by you “

The Geth just want to live peacefullyyyyyy

39. Be Still - The Killers Love Interest Theme

“Be still / someday you’ll leave fearlessness on your sleeve”

This song works so well for the night before Omega-4. If you had an ME2 love interest, anyway. Also “fearlessness on your sleeve” is one of my favorite set of words ever written.

40. No Cars Go - Arcade Fire The Omega-4 Relay

“We know a place no spaceships go We know a place where no subs go “

This one’s pretty literal.

41. Rocketman - Elton John Suicide Mission

“ And I think it's gonna be a long, long time 'Til touchdown brings me 'round again to find I'm not the man they think I am at home “

I like sneaking some Classics onto my playlists, and I think this is how I generally approach Shepard’s mindset during the Suicide Mission, mostly the chorus. I’m also a sucker for ballads during action sequences. This one isn’t a perfect 1:1 but the Vibes check out.

42. Blast Off - David Guetta feat. Kaz James The Normandy Crew

“Got all my people with me And none of us give a fuck So put dem hands up higher Let's smash this party up”

You have to imagine they partied HARD after recovering from Suicide Mission, but before Shep got arrested, right??? This is the Starships for ME2.

INTERLUDE THE SECOND

43. I’m Not Your Hero - Tegan and Sara Liara T’soni

“ Feeling like I am now lighting up the hall I was used to standing in the shadow of a damaged heart Learning all I know now, losing all I did I never used to feel like I'd be standing so far ahead “

This feels like a good coming of age moment for Liara, as she copes with the choices she made in the 2 years of Shepard’s death (giving them to Cerberus), losing Feron, etc. This is her coming into her own as the Shadow Broker. She’s not meant to be an uncomplicated Big Damn Hero, but she can do good from this position.

44. The Well and the Lighthouse - Arcade Fire The Alpha Relay Incident

“I'm serving time All for a crime I did commit You want the truth? You know I'd do it all again“

These opening lines I feel capture the Alpha Relay Incident really well, and how Shepard did what they HAD to do there, and would do it again, but it still feels like shit. I always wished there was more choice on that mission, but also, having something like that happen without player agency is interesting. Shepard is at their most interesting, I think, in times where we DON’T have a say in what happens to them.

45. Reignite - Malukah Commander Shepard

“Crush my heart into embers, and I will reignite”

Is it cheating to use a Mass Effect fan song on my playlist? I certainly don’t think so, and this is the best Mass Effect fan song ever written.

THIRD MOVEMENT - MASS EFFECT 3

46. This Is War - Thirty Seconds to Mars Leaving Earth

“It's the moment of truth, and the moment to lie The moment to live and the moment to die The moment to fight, the moment to fight To fight, to fight, to fight “

It feels Too Easy to use this here but I’m gonna anyway. You’ve seen AMVs of this set to everything. It’s the ending song of DA:O. It’s the quintessential World At War song.

47. Battleborn - The Killers James Vega

“Up against the wall There's something dying on the street When they knock you down You're gonna get back on your feet”

James Vega is massively underrated and I will love him til I’m cold in the ground. Aro icon.

48. Handlebars - Flobots The Illusive Man

“I can hand out a million vaccinations Or let 'em all die of exasperation Have 'em all healed of their lacerations Have 'em all killed by assassination”

The way this song escalates fits TIM and Cerberus’s fall back into being Just Full On Evil really well. Perfect song for a power trip.

49. Here I Dreamt I Was An Architect - The Decemberists The Virmire Survivor

“And I am nothing of a builder But here I dreamt I was an architect And I built this balustrade To keep you home, to keep you safe From the outside world”

I like this song for how the Virmire Survivor feels about their survivor’s guilt and also about Shepard. I honestly wish they were both more heavily utilized in ME2 and 3, but I realize it’s hard to write a ton of content for characters who just aren’t in half of all peoples’ playthrus.

50. Heaven Knows - The Pretty Reckless Grisson Academy

“One, two, three and four, the devil's knocking at your door Caught in the eye of a dead man's lie Show your life with your head held high“

This song is so perfect for Jack and her biotic kids that she’s one of the only returning characters that gets her own song on this playlist

51. The Great Fire - OK Go Javik

“But when the flames die down, and everything is gone, Will there be fire under the ashes still?”

Self explanatory. Javik is the fire remaining under the ashes.

52. Bring the Hammer Down - Paragon Priority: Tuchanka/Kalros

“ Hammer strikes the anvil A rage that breaks the chain Strikes down like a lightening In our ranks “

KALROOOOOS

53. Wake Up - Arcade Fire Curing The Genophage/Mordin Solus

“If the children don't grow up, Our bodies get bigger but our hearts get torn up. We're just a million little gods causin' rain storms, turnin' every good thing to Rust I guess we'll just have to adjust”

I just really love this song as an image of Mordin’s spirit looking out over Tuchanka as the genophage cure is dispersed, and watching over future generations. If you didn’t cure the genophage, how dare you. No song for you.

Anyway started tearing up listening to this one while writing the description don’t look at me

54. Ballad of a Politician - Regina Spektor Councillor Udina/Priority Citadel 2

“A man inside a room is shaking hands with other men This is how it happens/Our carefully laid plans”

traitor

55. Cyborgs vs. Robots - Ludo The Geth-Quarian War

“But your iron fist will never knock me down 'Cause I'm powered By a conscious right to conduct my life without fear.”

This is probably a bit silly for this awful war. But also. It does fit. You can’t tell me it doesn’t. Just save them both at the end and you can feel fine having some fun with it!

56. Artificial Heart - Jonathan Coulton The Geth

“It's not a real heart It is a real artificial heart”

Just a little fun with the Geth! This works best with Reaper Upgrades.

57. With A Little Help From My Friends - Joe Anderson, Jim Sturgess The Citadel DLC

“What do you see when you turn out the light? I can't tell you, but I know it's mine

Oh, I get by with a little help from my friends”

I happen to prefer this version to any other because of how much fun it sounds like they’re having

58. Dark In Here - The Mountain Goats Priority: Earth

“Steal away at sundown, pick a place to hide Check for signs of ambush, hunker down inside Tired of running, tired of never standing still Hear them riding up the hill“

You know I had to get the Goats in here. Would it be a fan playlist if there wasn’t one?

59. Adieu - Yoko Kanno Leaving your Love Interest/Shepard and the Beam

“My love for you burns deep inside me / So strong Embers of times we had And now, here I stand / Lost in a memory I see your face, and smile”

...do I need to say more than that?

60. My Way (Minor Key) - Chase Holfelder The Indoctrination of The Illusive Man

“Regrets, I've had a few/But then again, too few to mention I did what I had to do/I saw it through, without exemption“

This cover takes this song from something I tolerate when I hear it to one of my FAVORITE songs. The frenzied way he sings the “through it all” verse is PEAK Indoctrinated TIM.

61. I’m Alive - Disturbed Refusal

“There will never be a reason why I will surrender to your advice To change myself, I'd rather die/Though they will not understand”

Honestly I didn’t “get” the Refusal ending until I heard this song, then I was like, OH, I SEE IT ALL SO CLEARLY NOW. This is my favorite in-universe Shepard take on the Refusal ending. I always got it from the player’s perspective of being dissatisfied with the options, but this one puts it into the world for me. This is a Shepard who does not trust the Starchild. This is a Shepard that chooses to end things on their own terms rather than submit to their designs.

62. Machine - Regina Spektor Control

“I collect my moments Into a correspondence With a mightier power Who just lacks my perspective And who lacks my organics And who covets my defects “

I used to have Adieu here, actually, because like Refusal, I didn’t used to GET the Control ending. Now, I do, in part thanks to hearing this song. I mean, just go look at the full lyrics. If this song hadn’t been written years before the end of Mass Effect 3, I’d swear it was a fan song for it.

63. Maybe Tomorrow - Yuki Kajiura Destroy

“The moon is gone And the night is still so dark I'm a little bit afraid of tomorrow“

I’m a Destroy Ending person, I won’t lie. Full on “the starchild is a liar and my synthetic friends are FINE” indoctrination theory level destroy ending. But this song is not about that. It’s about the canonical destroy ending, and if you prefer a Shep that survives it, this song’s for you.

This song captures the exhaustion and melancholy of the end of a long journey so well. Shepard is afraid of what comes next, the collateral damage resulting from their actions. But they know that, at least, it’s over now. Maybe tomorrow will be better.

64. Waiting For the End - Linkin Park Synthesis

“ I know what it takes to move on I know how it feels to lie All I wanna do is trade this life for something new Holding on to what I haven't got”

This is one of my favorite songs of all time. The hardest part of ending is starting again. Oof. Gets me every single time. Shepard finding the resolve to sacrifice themself for the hope of something better, of things not going how they planned, ever, of learning to make peace with that and the people who loved them learning to carry on without them? OOF.

65. Shine - Vienna Teng Epilogue

“Shine with all the untold Hold the light given unto you Find the love to unfold In this broken world we choose“

Vienna Teng is a master of capturing life’s softer emotions, and this fits perfectly with the epilogue scene for me. Tell me again about the Shepard.

“Find the love to unfold in this broken world we choose” has to be one of the greatest lines about the human experience ever written.

#mass effect #mass effect legendary edition #no one's gonna listen to this #but i need the world to know it exists #it took me as long as the playlist is to put this together

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achaoticeternal · 4 years

Text

A Dance. A Chase. A Purpose.

RANSOM DRYSDALE X READER masterlist // taglist

request from anon: 35. "sit your ass back down and talk to me" with Ransom Thrombey pretty please??😍

Summary: Ransom never has been one to chase a gall, but you’ve always been different. Word Count: 3.4k A/N: This is a reader and Ransom at a very formal gala. The Thrombey’s and Drysdale’s are “high class” people, they attend these kinds of things but I haven’t seen anyone write something like this! I hope you guys really enjoy it! This is also a lot of dialogue... whoops Warnings: Light swearing, people flirting with the reader, Ransom being an asshole but not a complete asshole

ANOTHER REAL QUICK NOTE: I WROTE ABOUT RANSOM IN A MAROON VELVET SUITE BEFORE THE GOLDEN GLOBES HAPPENED AND CHRIS JUST HAPPENED TO WEAR THAT EXACT OUTFIT TO THE GOLDEN GLOBES AND ALL I’M SAYING IS THAT THE UNIVERSE CAME THROUGH

His blue eyes continuously stalked you throughout the hours you attended the Gala. It wasn’t his scene and yet he adored the thought of ruining your perfect evening just with his presence.

“Who put Ransom on the guest list?” You hissed at one of the event coordinators, “Don’t you remember what he did at the art show I hosted last year?”

“I’m terribly sorry Miss, but he’s the plus one for Mr. Thrombey,” the hesitant man replied, looking awfully terrified.

You took multiple deep breathes to soothe yourself and stop yourself from becoming flustered. Ransom has this awful hold on you that everyone could not, and you could absolutely not stand. He knew just how to stir you, be that good or bad, and absolutely ruin what should be paradise. He truly was the devil in a maroon velvet suit that was perfectly tailored to him.

“Yes, of course. I’m sorry for flashing, thank you for all your assistance tonight,” You smiled kindly to the man before scurrying off to find something to occupy yourself before Ransom had a chance.

Tonight, all you wanted to do was raise funds to assist the homeless shelters in major U.S cities and inspire a few billionaires and millionaires to hand over a hefty check. But you had to play a little game to get money from the elite class. You made your way all around the ballroom in the designer gown; it was black and floor-length, layer upon layer of fine black lace. Across the skirt was intricate gold stars sewn into the material as an illusion collar and mesh sleeves complimented your top. Your appearance mixed with your charm could allure both men and women into acquiring whatever you desired. You knew that inevitably somehow you would run into Ransom since Harlan was a huge donor to your foundation.

“Oh, (Y/N),” It seemed you’d be seeing him sooner than you thought as Mr. Thrombey waved you over. Gracefully, you turned to see him and other authors you’d invited enjoying their wine and making various comments about the younger people attending the gala. Harlan motioned at an empty seat, “my dear.”

“Alright, but I can’t stay long. Apparently, I’m the only one left with their head screw on right this evening,” You smiled as the older group chuckled.

“You’ve always been a prize, (Y/N). Standing out in school, in your community, and now your foundation. Your grandparents would be proud,” Margret, a theatre critic, complimented you.

Her words were almost reassuring. Your grandparents had left their company and their estate to you, their only granddaughter. The rest of the family received their fair cut of shares and money, but your grandparents believed that you had the best potential in ruining their media empire.

But you felt all joy leave your body as a large pair of hands rested themselves upon your shoulder, squeezing them just tight enough to create a numbing sensation, “Yes, and she also always was quite the star in high school and even university. Our professor often gawked at how well-knowledged she is, and even her charm.”

You rested your right hand on top of Ransom’s, peeling it off and letting it drop to his side, “Well, Ransom, it’s wonderful for you to join us at the Charity Gala tonight. I hope everything is just as proper and tasteful to your liking.”

“Well, it’s a nice little set-up you have, but I’ve always been a man to enjoy a good party with plenty to drink and-”

“Hugh,” Mr. Thrombey warned his grandson.

Ransom gave her grandfather a childish glare before sighing, “But it’s still just so lovely, (Y/N).”

“This has just been so grand,” You stood and brushed out any wrinkles in the skirt of your dress, “but I must go meet with the city’s mayor to talk about the proceeds from this evening before they reach a politician's hands. Please feel free to check out our silent auction tables, there are some wonderful prizes to be won. And once we announce the winners, we will have a large auction while dinner is served in the banquet hall at 8.”

With pep in your step, you quickly made your own way to the banquet hall to make sure everything was going swimmingly.

- - -

“Yes, and up there on the platform, the seats will go the mayor’s wife, the mayor, the governor, myself, the senator, his wife, and then his son,” you pointed down the long table. Then you turned to look out over a sea of tables, chairs, and name cards, “And the menu is set for this evening?”

“Yes, ma’am. Everything is under control, tidy, and might I say, luxurious, thanks to you,” your proceeds manager, Pierce, complimented you.

“You’re too kind,” you slapped his arm lightly, “now, guests my enter around 7:30 or whenever the staff finishes setting our the glasses and rolls.”

“Oh, (Y/N),” you heard your name called by a silver tongue serpent who managed to sneak into the banquet hall early. As he sauntered over to you, Pierce noticed how to seemed to deflate slightly in the man’s presence.

“Miss, I’m so sorry, I’ll go tell security too-”

“It’s fine, Pierce. Hugh is an... acquaintance that I’ve known for years.”

“That’s a strange way of putting childhood enemy,” Ransom teased as he took a sip out of his champagne glass, “or childhood crush depends on how you view it.”

“Yes, yes, how could I forget. Pierce,” you gave him a look to dismiss him as you turned to look pointedly at Ransom, “what are you doing here now? The schedule is clear and I don’t understand why you can’t just fo-”

“You know schedules and timetables aren’t my forte, honey,” he cut you off, which he knew made your blood boil, “but I wanted to address a little rumor I heard? Apparently, at the banquet auction- you are going to be a prize.”

“I’m not a prize, I’m a respected woman,” you sneered, “and my marketing and social managers decided it would help the cause if we auctioned off a dance with one of the most powerful and eligible bachelorette's in New York.”

“Well then,” His eyes scanned across your face but going lower. You snapped your fingers in front of his face to snap him out of whatever the hell he was trying to do, “I guess I’ll be able to show you what a fantastic dancer I am tonight when I win.”

“In your dreams, Ransom,” You said with a smile as you heard the doors open and a crowd begin the flutter in, “Now please if you would so kindly take your seat able table 6.”

- - -

“Thank you so much for attending tonight’s charity gala,” You smiled warmly as you spoke into the microphone. Much applause followed, “This evening’s event couldn’t have happened without help from so many people within the community and all of you here tonight. I have a lot of people to thank tonight, but first I would like to thank the wonderful orchestra for providing such wonderful music.”

You gestured to the group seated on the right side of the banquet hall as they took their bows. You allowed for the chatter to calm before continuing your speech to thank the hotel and its’ management, the catering, your parents and siblings, your personal assistant, “and lastly I have three very important men and their families in attendance tonight. The Mayor of New York City, The Governor, and even Senator Holstead.” Each of the men stood, waved to the crowd, and were applauded, “And now, I would like to invite the Senator’s eldest son, MR. Wyatt Holstead to join me in announcing the winner’s for tonight’s silent auction and then we will proceed to bidding on specialty items.”

“Thank you so much, Ms. (Y/L/N). Isn’t she just fantastic?” Wyatt smiled at the audience as he made his way up to you with his own mic. He stood next to you and took your hand, “It is an absolute honor to be assisting you tonight and a help you raise funds to solve homelessness in this beautiful city, once and for all. But being in your striking beauty might be the cherry on top.”

You giggled as he raised your hand to his lips and kiss your knuckles softly. However, you could feel the tension across to the room as you made eye contact with Ransom, who was clapping with a less than excited look upon his face, “Why thank you. Now, Wyatt will be drawing and announcing the names of the winners while I present you will the item of auction. So- let’s begin.”

You forgot about Ransom and his predatory gaze as you awarded baskets and various items to strangers and friends that won them. The flashes of cameras and shaking of hands stirred your brain until Wyatt ended the silent auction.

“Congratulations to the winners! Checks can be dropped off this evening or mailed to the donation center within the next three days. But now, we move onto our live auction where we have some stellar items and events up for sale tonight!”

“You’re right, Wyatt. This first item up to bid tonight is a trip to the beaches of Italy on an all-expenses-paid vacation! Let’s start the bidding at $500, shall we?”

Immediately, hands and ladies’ fans flew up in the air. It was amazing how fast items were going and how quickly the evening was flying by.

“Going twice... Sold! The fountain pen collection goes to Mrs. Margret Dunwoody!” Wyatt called. There was applause as she grabbed her prize, “And now, for the final auction before any real partying or dancing begins, we have a real treat. One lucky person will be able to share the first dance and be treated to breakfast with our own, Miss (Y/N) (Y/L/N)! Now, this is quite the prize so let’s start the bidding at... two thousand?”

The hands’ of New York’s finest bachelors and bachelorettes shot up high.

‘$2,500″

“$3,500″

“$4,000!”

“$5,000!”

“$25,000,” One loud voice called from the center of the room. Ransom had stood, a smirk plastered to his face as his blue eyes met your own.

“$30,0-” Another man tried to yell out.

“$50,000,” Ransom called on top of him, “Anyone else?”

“Well then,” Wyatt said, looking to you and winking, “$60,000.”

“$75,000,” Ransom called back with ease.

“$85,000,” Wyatt retorted.

You began to become nervous. It would be awkward to watch Ransom’s and Wyatt’s little showdown, but you were the prize which made the experience only that much unsettling, “Boys, boys, you’re both pretty.”

“Going once...” You looked at Ransom only to be pondering something, “Going twice...” you started to pray that anyone else would bid, Wyatt was still in college and you didn’t need your record destroyed by a horny boy...

“$150,000!”

The banquet hall went completely silent, no one said a thing. You could here pen drop in the room with how deafening it was.

“Sold to Mr. Ransom Drysdale!” The Mayor called out from his seat, sensing the tension, “Now if Mr. Drysdale will make his way up to the platform to escort his prize to the dance floor.”

Ransom held a bit of swagger in his stride as he approached you. The shock was still evident in your stature as you tried to smile. People applauded and the band began to play again.

“My dear,” Ransom held his hand out for you, making sure to make this look a publicly decent as he could. You took his hand and he leads you down the stairs of the platform. Once you were on his level, he placed a hand upon your lower back and guided you towards the dance floor.

The band began to play a slow number that had the slightest touch of an upbeat. Ransom was surprisingly a great dance partner and easily guided you around the floor which captured the eyes of all in the banquet hall.

“You know, you’re not half bad at dancing,” you attempted to compliment him.

“I guess private school pays off a bit, but I’d still prefer dancing under your sheets,” he said in a sultry tone into your ear.

“Dammit, Ransom. I’m trying to enjoy my evening because you’ll be there to ruin my morning,” he spun you twice before pulling you into his chest again, “why did you even place a bid? You hate donating to charity, unless by force, and you know I can’t stand you.”

“Well, you know I love getting under your skin and I think the other bidder doesn’t have the same experience as I do,” He beamed, “in any category.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“But you can’t help but love me,” his lips dragged across your cheek.

The music faded out and a DJ began playing today’s hits. With all the formalities taken care of, this was no longer was your scene, “Well, good night, Ransom. I’ll see you in the morning and you can tell me about whatever girl you hooked up with, in the morning.”

With that, you escaped up to your suite in the hotel, hoping not to interact with anyone for the rest of the evening.

- - -

It was a few hours later now and you were still wide awake, relaxing in the living area of your suite as Brooklyn Nine-Nine played on the television. You had already showered and your hair was almost finished air drying, but you still wore the hotel robe. It was peaceful and allowed you to digest the events from the evening. But a knock on the door alerted you of an unexpected guest.

“Who is it?”

“Room service, ma’am,” You opened the door to reveal a young man with a cart, “Gifts from the hotel managers and a special man who wanted to thank you for this evening.”

“Oh well, thank you, just cart it in wherever you like,” You nodded and let him through. He quickly took care of his job before exiting, “good night.”

You grabbed the first card on the cart, a little formal thank you note from the hotel for a smooth event and the wonderful publicity. There was a second one with no name, but you figured it was one of the politicians you invited this evening.

You looked like the night sky, but you shined brighter than any star.

Shaking your head, you let out a small giggle at the little note like you were a school girl again. Even if there was a bump or two in the evening, it all still went practically perfect. But a second knock came from the door.

“If it’s another cart, I’m afraid I’m out of room in here,” You teased, only to open the door to reveal Ransom.

“Well, were the flowers not enough? I didn’t know my prize would still be so hard to please, even after I swept her off her feet on the dance floor.” Here he was, smirk and all. Instead of his usual behavior of prowling a dance floor for a girl to satisfy him for the night, he was here, satisfying his need to tease you.

“Ransom, I-uh... Shouldn’t you be downstairs?” You pulled the robe close to your body like it could shield you from anything he could say or do to you.

“Well, my date left me on the floor-”

“I’m sorry to hear that, but it’s late, and I’m not a prize to be won, and you-”

“(Y/N),” He looked you in the eyes with his own blue ones that could make any woman melt and suddenly you understood why he came upstairs, “Can I come in, please?”

“I- maybe not tonight...”

“Please”

You took a deep breath before opening the door to allow him in, “Okay, but I do plan to go to bed before long.”

He walked in and immediately got a beer out of the hotel fridge before taking a seat on the couch. You grabbed yourself a bottle of water before joining him on the couch.

“So, were you trying to get away from your grandfather? or an ex?”

“No, I figured it was time we talk. And I mean actually talk. Not argue or bicker like we do in front of everyone else.”

“I don’t remember a time where we didn’t, so...”

“Maybe because you never give me the chance to talk-”

“Well, maybe that’s because every time I’ve tried to open up to you or trust you, you just cut me off...”

“Maybe that’s because you keep trying to meddle in my life like my family does!”

“I’m not doing this tonight! Not after everything I accomplished, I’ll see you in the morning,” you pushed yourself off the couch and attempted to make your way into the bedroom.

“No, (Y/N), I-” He let out a sigh and shook his head, “sit your ass back down and talk to me.”

“There’s nothing to talk about, Ransom!”

“There is everything to talk about”

IT hit you like a brick. He wanted to talk it out because after all this time he still wanted you. He wanted back sneaking into each other’s dorms. Pretending to hate each other, but sneaking kisses behind friends and family. You were the only person to ever deny him from what he needed. You were the girl to leave him on the floor. The same way you had left him on the floor homecoming your junior year, semi-formal your senior year of college, and various club outings. And now tonight in front of the public. You had always been the only girl to leave him alone and the only girl to walk out on him first. And after all this time, he still chased after you, because you were consistent.

“Dammit, (Y/N). Why do you act like this? We have history, but you insist on acting like it never happened or that it was all bad.”

“Ransom, you know why we both called it all off...”

“Because you were inheriting a large media network? You could risk doing ONE thing that your mother didn’t approve of. I know why, but I’ll never understand-”

“Because you made me reckless and I couldn’t let my life slip through my fingers while I lived a perfectly pleasurable life off of daddy’s money. I need purpose and you never gave me one.”

“But you gave me purpose. And tonight, you looked like a night sky, shining bright with a thousand stars and reminded me of those nights where we laid under the starry sky and you let me spoil you. You helped me deal with the abomination that is my family, you were helping me learn to be a better person.” He took your hands into his own large ones and rested his forehead against yours, “I was going to propose and we were going to find a purpose together.”

“Fuck, Ransom,” The tears slid down your cheeks, but he caught them with his thumbs, “Why do we have to do this now? I was just starting to truly move on. Why can’t you let the idea of us go?”

“Because it’s the only good idea I’ve ever had. Please, (Y/N), I love you.”

Your breath got caught in your throat. In all the time that Ransom and you had spent together - teasing each other or flirting or otherwise - he had never said that he loved you. You never even heard him tell his parents he loved them. He truly wanted you.

“I- We... We can try again. But it’ll be slow and it will take time to heal what we burned, but if you’re willing than I am too.”

“That’s all I need to hear,” he whispered before pressing his lips against yours.

- - -

The next afternoon, images of you and Ransom having brunch and holding hands while wandering around New York were splattered across media and magazine sites alike. People and reporters asked about the charity event the night before, what this relationship meant for your company, and even asking if you both were finally coming public with your relationship after months of hiding it.

A young reporter caught Ransom and asked it you satisfied his desires, targeting Ransom’s playboy bachelor status.

“I think you should be asking (Y/N) how much she raised for the homeless and those living off in a single evening instead of objectifying her. She’s the most powerful and influential woman in the nation and desrves more respect than that. Go report her record-breaking funding to your Editor, instead of a dumbass’s opinion on if she makes a good shag or not, sweetie.”

Once you made it into his car and made your way to Boston, you turned to him, “Thank you, for everything you said.”

“Of course, it was all honest and true. But I was never gonna tell them how wonderful you feel beneath me.”

“Ransom-”

“Oh c’mon, you love me”

#mattie writes #ransom thrombrey #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale imagine #ransom drysdale x y/n #ransom thrombey x reader #ransom thrombey imagine #chris evans #cevans #chris evans x reader #chris evans imagine #chris evans x y/n #knives out

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aethelflaedladyofmercia · 4 years

Text

Lessons and Lamentations

Crowley has been alone for so long, he doesn't remember any other way to be. And then an angel in a tavern tries to tempt him.

A lesson in music, and what it means to not be alone.

Another Good Omens fic for @bingokisses - this one for the prompt “Learning Guitar/Piano together” (well, lyre, close enough) which on my card was paired with “Over-the-shoulder kiss.”

Available on AO3, with detailed history notes for those who like that sort of thing.

Crowley still wasn’t sure what had happened.

“Start by placing your hands like this,” Aziraphale instructed him. “The lyre goes against your thigh, here.” The curve of the tortoiseshell pressed into Crowley’s leg, partway between knee and waist. The angel’s arms wrapped around him, lightly holding the instrument. “Go on. I can’t show you how to play if you don’t take it.”

Five hours ago, he’d been sitting in a tavern, looking forward to getting comfortably black-out drunk and sleeping off the rest of his assignment. Five hours ago, he’d been just about ready to write off the entire ridiculous planet and all the useless beings who inhabited it. Five hours ago, he’d been alone, as he’d always been alone, for so long he couldn’t remember a different way to be.

And then an angel had tried to tempt him.

“Good. Now, when you actually play, you’ll have both hands on the strings. One behind, one in front. But for now, just keep it tilted just like this, so you can see what I’m doing.” One soft hand stayed on the back of Crowley’s helping him cradle the instrument. The other, the right, brushed across his skin as fingers reached to pluck a few notes.

It wasn’t that Crowley had wanted dinner. He ate, when he wanted, but not oysters. If he was going to put something in his mouth, it wouldn’t be a slab of barely-cooked meat that smelt of salt and had the consistency of a particularly phlegmy cough.

But, bless it, that angel was so determined to be friendly and how could anyone resist that? Crowley’s specialty was the irresistible. He knew when something was a lost cause.

“Now the simplest method is plucking, like this, and you’ll notice if I press down here,” his left hand shifted to rest on the strings, “the note is – is sort of abbreviated. Muted and quick. But if I leave the string free…” A soft note reverberated through the atrium. “Then it holds for quite some time. So you can combine several of those to make a chord, like this.” He plucked three strings rapidly, and their sounds combined into a single, rich note, warm, almost liquid, flowing together into something even better.

It had taken some time to warm up to each other. They disagreed on everything. Politics. Morality. Whether or not Caesar had deserved to be stabbed quite so many times. All the big questions, really.

But then, Aziraphale had taken a mouthful of the sharp red wine and spat it back out. This is no sort of wine! My dear fellow, how can you stand it?

S’Rome. You drink what they have. Not any worse than that beer in Uruk.

It absolutely is! My word, how your standards have fallen.

“Now once you have that down, you can start strumming – and you have to make sure your fingers are exact, or it won't work. Hold down all these strings from the back, here and here and here…like that. Then, instead of plucking, you just run your thumb across them all like this—” Seven notes all rose through the air, one sound that was everything together, pure and clear. Crowley gasped and, without thinking, leaned back a little against Aziraphale’s chest. “Mind your legs,” was all the angel said, shifting his knees and feet to hold Crowley’s legs in position.

The argument about wine had turned into a long digression about the drinks of a hundred different cultures. They agreed the pear wine to the north had been the lightest, smoothest of all, that Egyptian beer was superior to Sumerian but really the whole concept needed work, that the plum liqueur drink of the far east was simply delightful, though they disagreed on whether or not it should be drunk by the jarful.

From there they moved on to the decoration of the jars – the simple patterns of the northern cultures compared to the elaborate (and often erotic) scenes of the Greeks. And then to art generally, to paintings, to sculpture, to the general agreement that the emperors’ enormous monuments were rather on the gaudy side. After some discussion, they determined the best work in the city to be a simple but beautifully carved statue of the goddess Hygieia stepping from a pool, located by one of the city’s many baths. Crowley particularly liked that she carried a snake, and Aziraphale had laughed at that.

“Do you want me to play a song for you? So you can see how it goes?” Crowley nodded, not trusting himself to speak. “Alright, let me think.” Aziraphale leaned closer, resting his chin on Crowley’s shoulder, arms absently tugging at his waist to pull them more firmly together, before returning his hands to rest on the backs of Crowley’s. Now every part of Crowley pressed against a part of Aziraphale. It should have felt like an intrusion – Crowley hated to be touched, hated other people in his space – but somehow it felt the most natural thing in the world. “I’ve got one. Now watch.” He rested his left hand against the back of the strings, and with his right lifted a wedge of tortoiseshell, which he used to pluck one string after another, a slow and stately rhythm.

Speaking of art had brought them to talking about the theater, which they both confessed to enjoy. They’d discussed whether the current plays could ever be as good as the classics – a difficult conversation, as apparently the angel preferred slow-paced bore fests whereas Crowley liked the ones with good jokes and fast dialogue. Eventually Aziraphale conceded that Plautus was one of the best playwrights in recent memory, and Crowley agreed to go see Seneca’s take on the Agamemnon story.

Are all angels so obsessed with tragedy? The restaurant had brought a bowl of figs, which were much more to Crowley’s liking. Makes sense, I suppose. Predestination and the plans of the gods and all that. Humans learning to accept their fate.

Oh. Aziraphale’s face had fallen. No I…I rather think I’m the only one. He’d shifted uncomfortably. That is…theater isn’t considered a particularly angelic pursuit. Nor is sculpture, or food or…well…really any of the, you know, human arts.

Crowley had cocked his head, rolled over to lie flat on his couch and stare at the ceiling. Makes sense, he had started in his usual cool, detached manner. They’re very demonic pursuits. All those, you know, delicately carved ladies, that just inspires lust and…and envy and all sorts of sins. And the theater! Comedies about sowing confusion and throwing the entire world into disorder. Mocking power structures. Tempting young men into lives of romance and – and fun, instead of duty and war and whatever else? Yes, very demonic.

He had grinned to himself, satisfied with his explanation, until a glance at Aziraphale’s face had made his chest ache. The brilliant smile had vanished completely, leaving the angel looking downcast. Hopeless. And alone, so blasted alone, in a way that resonated deep in Crowley’s soul.

So, thankful for the glasses that hid his eyes, Crowley had sighed with as much drama as he could muster. Least, that’s what I tell my superiors. Don’t think they really buy it, but I keep trying. Aziraphale blinked at him in confusion. Don’t think I’ve ever had a chance to, you know, talk about it properly, not with anyone who understands. So. S’nice. A look of understanding dawned on the angel’s face, with an entirely new kind of smile, and Crowley had to turn away before it burned him alive. Yeah. So. That’s theater…nh…what do you think of music?

Which brought them here, to the villa of the family Aziraphale had been assigned to, and the lyre, and a music lesson that so far had been an education in something very different.

Each note fell like rainwater, gliding up and down the scales. His hands began to move independently, sometimes plucking notes from the front and back of the instrument, sometimes gliding across the strings, sometimes one finger would rest on a single string, making it quaver and reverberate. Every time Crowley thought he knew the pattern, it would change, faster or slower, higher or lower, a sweeping glissando to bring a chill up his spine.

It was a lament, infinitely sad and alone, and yet filling the air with a bright rhythm of undeniable, unremitting hope.

Crowley couldn’t keep up with the movements of Aziraphale’s fingers, dancing up and down in an incomprehensible pattern. Instead, he half-closed his eyes and leaned back, resting his head more comfortably against the angel’s shoulder. Aziraphale said nothing, intent on his music, but he tilted his head so that their cheeks rested together.

Nobody liked Crowley, not really.

They tolerated him, or were impressed by him, or flattered by his compliments, or drawn in by his intrigue – all the tricks of a tempter. He could roll into any city or village in the world and have the locals eating out of his hand in a matter of days. But once he’d done his job, once he’d accomplished his goal and could drop the pretenses…nobody ever stuck around, and it was on to the next job, the next temptation, the next act.

He didn’t miss the company. He didn’t need it. He had passed four thousand years on this planet quite happily alone, and could do the next four thousand the same.

And yet.

And yet here he sat, on the floor of a fancy villa, surrounded by Aziraphale, wrapped in his arms and his legs and his music. Welcomed. Accepted. Wanted.

Just for the length of a song, nothing else needed to exist. No Heaven, no Hell, no sides, just two beings enjoying each other’s company, just the smell of Aziraphale’s perfume and the brush of his toga against Crowley’s arms, just two heartbeats dancing to the sound of the lyre.

The song wound to a close.

Crowley tipped his head back, trying to meet Aziraphale’s eyes, but could only see a round cheek, a pursed mouth, a snub of a nose.

He wished the song could go on forever. He wished…something. He didn’t know what, but he wanted it more than anything.

Aziraphale plucked the final notes.

And, as the last chord reverberated through the room, their lips met.

Quick as an echo, just as soft and mysterious. An unmistakable brush of lips, the slightest parting, a hot stream of breath. A greeting. A thank you. A promise of…something, someday, Crowley couldn’t imagine what, but he would gladly wait ten thousand years to find out.

And then – the last note faded, and Aziraphale pulled away.

“Well. There you have it. Quite a tidy little instrument, isn’t it? Quite – quite clever, I really prefer it to the cithara, you know.”

“Yeah, um.” Crowley turned his face away. He didn’t actually remember starting the kiss, but it must have been him, the eternal tempter, always pushing for whatever he could get. Pushing too far. Already, he could feel the tension building in Aziraphale’s stomach.

“Perhaps that’s enough for one night?” Crowley’s heart fell. “Yes, I – I rather think…yes, probably sufficient…”

“Can you—” Crowley gripped the instrument a little tighter. “Can you show me a few notes? While you’re here. While I’m here,” he corrected.

“I…you still want to learn?”

“S’why I came, isn’t it?” He shifted his hands and tried to pluck a note; it came out more sour than sweet. “Something like this?”

“Nearly.” Aziraphale’s fingers came around to nudge his, but they hesitated. “Perhaps I should, er, sit facing you? That might be less…”

“You don’t have to,” Crowley said, far too quickly. “I mean. S’easier this way. Facing it the same way, hands on the same side, all that. You don’t…you don’t have to move.”

“Ah. If. If you’re sure.” Crowley nodded. “Right then. Ehm. When you pluck, you should pinch your fingers like this…”

The lesson went on until the early hours of the morning, Crowley nestled against Aziraphale, as the warmth and the music filled him.

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puttingfingerstokeys · 4 years

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penultimate

you wanna be a wee bit sad today? GOOD. -nutpunches the testes of your heart- as usual, tumblr fucked my italics and I’m channeling Kung Lao today--gunna nap instead of do shit about it

shaolin rowdy boys pining implied - LiuLao, uh hmm what else? Just Lao in this one. Nothing juicy

Broken Timeline

“Do you know what it is like?” He speaks to no one, his voice barely above a whisper, alone in the Shirai-Ryu’s famous Fire Gardens. There is a koi pond nearby, with a small cascade of water dumping its contents into the clear water from a stream that seems to loop all the way through the picturesque gardens. It is almost unbelievable that one of the two deadliest assassin clans calls this place their dojo and home. His reflection ripples back up at him as he turns to watch the fish and he frowns. “Huh?” He grunts, “DO you?”

Of course not, he thinks bitterly, how could you—how could you know what any of this is like when you are so… so perfect. His frustration mounts and he pulls the wide-brimmed hat off his head and sticks the bladed edge angrily into the dirt next to him. In times of distress, every teacher he has ever had has told Kung Lao that meditation is an acceptable, even laudable solution. He swallows down the thick, ugly lump in his throat and chokes on his resentment, which he knows is foolish, bratty, and misdirected. It is unbecoming of a White Lotus. He knows what Lord Raiden would say.

“Release your anger, Kung Lao,” Lao rumbles in his best imitation of Raiden’s thundery voice, “it will only consume you.”

He scoffs, picking up an orange leaf and examining it without really seeing what he is observing. His eyes scan the veins and cracks without absorbing any of it before he tosses it into the pond. It is light and does not go as far as his mind wishes it would. Color settles high on his cheeks as he props his chin on one hand, elbow on his knee.

“Tell that to future you, Lord Raiden—frying your favorite student and letting the spare…” He reaches up reflexively to rub his neck where he can almost feel the pressure of hands wrapping around jaw and shoulder, wrenching his spine and ending his life. Well… sort of. He and Liu Kang had recently come face to face with their revenants and, while they, the living Shaolin, had been successful, seeing himself, torn, ashen, cracked like the earth after a volcanic eruption, with such deep hatred in his eyes… it had been, to say the least, jarring.

It jars him even now as he observes his own, sharp, dark eyes in the pond once more. A fish surfaces to beg for food, prodding at the leaf. Unsatisfied, it sinks once more, flashing its beautiful orange-and-white body once and disappearing in the depths.

“How can I release something that is part of me?” He tilts his head back, running his hand over his bare scalp, feeling the growth of a few days, craving a razor. He has become so accustomed to a lack of hair that any little bit makes the leather cap he often wears begin to chafe. Today, it is absent as he and the others have been instructed to rest before the assault on Kronika’s keep—the realm and home of a titan. He does not relish the thought of entering Netherrealm on his own steam, but it is, he thinks, perhaps a bit better than doing it on someone else’s watch.

Supposedly they will, if all goes as planned, be utilizing Kharon’s fleet to sail the blood sea. The ferryman of hell can evidently be persuaded to help them right the wrongs Kronika has committed upon the people of this timeline (and evidently many others, though his understanding of such things is beneath what one might call rudimentary). For once, Lao is content with the “it is not for us to know” explanation. Thinking about this, about any of it, makes his head spin. And spinning is usually his specialty.

Of himself, he thinks he has done well, has kept his cool as best he can, has done anything and everything Raiden has asked of him, would gladly do it again now that he has seen the god’s power in action properly and has gotten to know Raiden the way Liu Kang always has (or the way his faith has propelled him to believe and thence to know). Lao is, at least for now, somewhat content with the work he has done. He has contributed to a real, tangible cause and that does, indeed, feel good. But it is not good enough. It does not settle entirely upon his restless spirit. He cannot decide if it is his doubting nature, or if it is something else which drives him now to continue this one-sided dialogue.

“Do you know why my parents named me Lao?” His smile is harsh and bitter, like the rare sunlight over Arctika. In theory, it is the sun, but in practice, it is little more than chilly, diffuse illumination. Lao pauses as if waiting for a reply, but the fish and the breeze offer none, so he continues. “A prophecy.” His shoulders sag and he slumps a little, staring at his hands. They are strong hands, calloused and scarred with many healed cuts—and some not-so-healed. They have served him well, but, like everything else in his life never well enough. “I think they just wanted me to be like my ancestor, you know? The Great Kung Lao—so they call me Lao and hope that I… do not dishonor him.”

He allows the silence to hang in the air, accompanied only by the burble of the stream and small waterfall that feeds the pond, the whisper of leaves dancing in a light breeze, and whatever sound sunlight makes when it falls gently upon the earth. In the distance, he might, were he to concentrate, hear the voices of his friends, but his attention is only upon the here and now, directed inward.

“They are more worried about being dishonored themselves.” Lao scoffs, leaning back and watching the sky overhead. Large, fluffy clouds glide serenely above, unaware of the turmoil in his heart—perhaps uncaring. He wishes he could let it go. He wishes he too could simply cease caring and simply do his duty as the ideal, humble monk. “But I cannot,” he growls, “because I AM not. I… fear and I doubt and I fight harder than anyone else just to be… second best.” If that.

Orphan or not, Liu Kang should have been named after the Great Kung Lao. It is he who carries the legacy, even if Lao bears the name and the blood. Much rests upon that name in their ancient and venerated clan, so there is much to dishonor. Lao has become skilled at repeatedly doing just that, whether he means to or not. It is difficult to say what, if anything specific, had been the “final straw” which pushed him toward the rank of black sheep, sacred name and all.

At least I am not the only disappointment in the family, he thinks bitterly. It is an unkind reflection and, though he has only actually met his nephew a handful of times, briefly, and of course when the boy had been much younger than he likely is now, he does not equate their struggles. All the same, he considers, I would become his friend, I think… if I survive this.

Plans for return are far from his mind. In fact, Lao has come to grips with the fact that he will not be coming home at all. “That should bring the honor I was missing all these years,” he opines, stretching his legs out to either side of the rocky edge of the pond and bending over them, stretching his limbs and breathing deeply, trying to follow Raiden’s imaginary advice. Even without the thunder god’s pedantic scolding, Lao knows that this, too, is a selfish thought and centers himself to banish it, as well. He finds himself attempting to banish many thoughts these days, and they are only coming on more strongly.

Bending first to one side and then the other, Lao stretches, breathes, and then sits back up, straightening and re-folding his legs. The sunlight glints off the edge of his hat, still lodged in the earth nearby as he lays his hands in his lap in the old meditative pose, closing his eyes. His chest expands and contracts with forced slowness, all effort concentrating into wrangling, controlling, and releasing the thoughts which buzz about his mind like bees. Outwardly, he is the picture of serenity, the perfect monk.

He supposes that this is how it must remain. Until he can prove himself worthy, he will always be the number two Shaolin. That is not what rankles him most, however. It is that Liu Kang is absolutely his biggest fan, his most ardent supporter, and actually listens to him when he does express doubt. How can he harbor any harsh feelings toward or in relation to someone like that?

I love him, he thinks, and he’s going to walk right into his death… I will follow him, because that is what I always do. If Liu Kang is the lamb to slaughter, then what does that make him? What abbertoire awaits them in Netherrealm? Is Raiden yet again leading them into a massacre? His hands are balled into fists upon his lap and the meditative serenity is lost. He feels tears sting the corners of his eyes.

“I love you, Liu Kang.” And it is too damn late to do anything about it.

#cc #cw #mortal kombat #kung lao #liu kang #shaolin rowdy boys #liulao

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lots-of-little-pink-clouds · 3 years

Text

Julian’s Erotic Fanfiction

Summary: A oneshot featuring Julian's erotic fanfic about him and the courier that he almost published. With commentary. And smut.

Pairings: Malkavian Courier / Julian Sim

Characters: Lark (Courier), Julian Sim, Lark’s sire “The Rook”

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28687191

January 10th 2001

Tucson by Night (Working Title)

Written by: Julian Sim {JS}.

Comments by: Lark [L].

As stars appear on the skyline, the people of Tucson, Arizona return to their homes after a long day of work. Taking their place are the creatures of the night, the vampires who hide in sewers and crypts to escape the burning rays of the sun. Together, they flock towards their sacred Elysium to pay tribute to their Prince. [A guillotine awaits Martin Luther and his 95 Theses] {Lmao he's welcome to try}

This year marked the Prince's 200th anniversary ruling over the city of Tucson. [Has he ruled for 200 years?] {Idk, I just needed a number} [Lies are lies] {And here I thought you didn't want anything to do with this :>} [Lights are better when they're brighter, and dawn is the brightest light] {Ah, go big or go home? I can respect that} In his honor, his childer organized a masquerade ball [Cliché] {Everyone loves a bit of mystery ;)}, a mockery of the very Masquerade that vampires implement to interact with their day walking prey.

Amidst the rabble, the beautiful, and the monstrous stands the unassumingly handsome [Mirrors encourage vanity] Child of Haqim, Julian Sim. [The truth brings vultures to roost] {It's the first draft, I'll change it later!} Dressed in a dapper suit, a mask of ivory adorns his face. He scans the ballroom crowd of other masked partygoers in search of one particular woman.

It's not too long before he spots her. She wears a mask decorated with golden feathers [A golden crown?] {Only the best for my deuteragonist!}. More feathers are braided into her long dark hair. Her blue dress brushes the floor as she flutters throughout the ballroom by her sire's side. Julian follows discreetly after them, desperate to catch her gaze. [You? Desperate?] {Gotta have some drama somewhere ^^} She glances back and sees him, and a small grin appears on her lips. She turns away before her sire can see, as if he was never there. [I am the dragon, not Aurora] {Oh I know ;) But I need to keep it PG for "the children"}

Julian pauses by the punch bowl filled with blood and watches as his lover's sire is called away by a business partner. His beautiful bird [Really?] {What? You really are beautiful :)} [That's not the point] drifts across the room to him.

"You're looking radiant tonight," Julian greets.

"And who might you be, good sir?" she asks, lips curling into a secretive smile. [What is this dialogue?] {It's a "period appropriate piece!" I wanted to be authentic!} [You shot classy at dawn and it turned to dust]

"A Child of Haqim stands before you, fair maiden! Never have I seen a sight as lovely as you. [Dawn awaits you, son of Haqim] {Fine, fine, I'll change it :/} Might I have your name?"

"What is a name but a song whispered out of tune?"

"But an enchanting song even so. Might I have your name?"

"I am a singer of songs, a messenger of the dawn," she replies.

"A name for a name then?" Julian steps closer and grasps her hand in his. "You may call me Julian."

"And I am but a lark." She curtsies.

Julian presses a kiss to the back of her hand. "Would you share a dance with me, lovely Lark?"

"Will you teach me to fly, Julian, Child of Haqim?" [Maggot-inducing] {I resent that}

Julian smiles and pulls her onto the dance floor.

"Flying is one of my specialties." [You are no bird] {I resent that too}

The two twirl across the ballroom. The music swells and Julian grabs his lark by the waist, lifting her high into the air. She giggles as she comes back down. He holds her close and presses his lips to her ear.

"Shall we adjourn, my fair lady?"

"How would you have me?"

"Under the moonlight." His nose brushes her ear. "By the light of the stars." He kisses the side of her neck. "Away from prying eyes." He opens his mouth and lets his fangs lightly drag against her throat. [Spicy] {Lol} She pries away from him until only their hands touch and guides him out of the ballroom.

The couple abscond to the deepest depths of the Prince's Elysium, away from the guests who might interrupt. [Wait, what ever happened to PG?] {Everyone's a critic, you especially :P} Hand-in-hand, mouth-to-mouth, they kiss to the sound of scurrying rats and the muffled music above. Julian pushes her against the wall, tugging her head back. He lays kisses on her smooth skin. He is the conductor of her orchestra. Her moans form a symphony, the sweetest of melodies to ever reach his ears, and he longs to hear what other sounds she can make.

He slides a hand down her body to pull up the skirt of her dress. She gasps, hands clutching his suit. She tugs on it, silently begging him to take it off. Julian shrugs the jacket off and lets it fall to the floor, returning to mouthing at her throat. Her hands entangle themselves in his hair as he reaches under her skirt. And pauses.

"No underwear?" He asks.

She presses herself against his hand. He feels her wicked grin as she pecks his cheek. "A little bird told me you would come, wayward son of Haqim. In more ways than one."

He chuckles and kisses her again. Pressing a finger into her warm heat, she moans loud and unabashed.

"Such a beautiful song you sing, pretty bird," Julian croons. He crooks his finger and watches her revel in the pleasure he's providing. He pulls the front of her dress down and mouths at her exposed breasts. She shudders and shakes and gasps. He could listen to her forever.

If he could free her from her sire, eternity with her would be possible.

She grasps his cheeks and turns his face to look at her.

"I want you," she whispers, and her voice is tinkling bells and windchimes in an autumn breeze and how could he ever say no to that?

Julian kisses her without restraint. They work together to divest him of his pants and then they're one, moving in tandem. Two desperate lovers, divided by loyalty and circumstance, driving each other towards a future where they can be together. They hold tight as they race towards completion, over the edge and into bliss. And they hold each other ever after, dreaming of nights ever lasting.

…

[Do you mean it?]

{Hmm?}

[The rook has three eyes. He is keen and shrewd.]

{I can find a way to break the Blood Bond, if that's what you're asking.}

[How?]

{An opportunity. You can't do it for... Well, for obvious reasons. But get him to a specific place at a specific time... And of course, I'll need time to make it.}

[It won't work.]

{Not completely, no. But you'll be able to get out of Tucson. Get far away, so the Bond will weaken. Then, you just need to stay away. If we're lucky, he'll die before he can find you and re-establish it.}

[He wants a full set.]

{A full set?}

[Blue jays sing of truth. He will be blue on blue on blue. A vicious creature. But he is loyal, that blue jay. The rook was also a twin.]

{Huh, the more you know.}

[But not now. It's not time yet. Something is coming, son of Haqim. You will get your opportunity.]

{Any last minute hints?}

[Blue blood spills in the sand. An eagle steals a crown and flies east. A blue jay awakens from slumber when angels set a tower aflame.]

{… Yeah, I'll need some time to make any sense of that. Nothing's ever easy with you Malkavians... Either way, I'll keep an eye out. Oh, and Lark? You owe me for this. Big time.}

#vtmnr #vampire the masquerade #julian sim #choice of games #fanfic

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x0401x · 4 years

Text

Hoshiai no Sora Production Notes #03

Akane Kazuki answers questions asked by the fans!

← Previous || Raw || Index || Ko-fi

Q.: Between traditional Japanese, Western and Chinese cuisine, what’s Maki-kun’s specialty? Also, I would like to know if there’s any cuisine that he’s good at in particular.

A.: He can generally cook anything without having a particular specialty. The reason why he often made Chinese food in the cooking scenes of the series is that Chinese food can be made in a short span. For dishes that take up time, he makes and stores them on Saturdays, then uses them for his lunch boxes.

Q.: I want to know the hobbies of all the club members!

A.: Maki has an interest in astronomy, so astronomical observation. Touma likes dinosaurs and fossils. Rintarou collects cat goods. As for Nao, fishing. In Itsuki's case, I guess it would be horror-type shooting games or the like. I feel that his older sister, Namie, likes them indiscriminately and would join him. Taiyou plays with his father using his miniature cars, which are also his hobby. Tsubasa might not have a hobby that actually seems like a hobby. Shingo watches anime with his little sister.

Q.: I want to know the reason for everyone except Maki to have joined the soft tennis club!

A.: I guess the only one who joined it because he wanted to play soft tennis was Touma. Middle schoolers in general must join some club, and many of them join clubs that they pick due to having no other option. I think that the club members of Shijou Minami also ended up gathering there because each of them had no other place to go, but as they all carry wounds that do not show on the surface and have formed a relationship where they understand one another without saying anything, it has turned into their own little place to belong.

Q.: The production of not just the soft tennis scenes, but also daily life scenes where Maki cooks and everyone eats with relish in their own way, is rather sensible, to a surprising extent. With what kind of policy did you proceed on that?

A.: What is interesting in animation is not just showy action; there is also warmth, reality and sense of presence in simple dramas, so this time, I wanted to make an anime where these things would become its charm by being portrayed sensibly. The detailed play of the cooking and daily life scenes were interesting even for me when I watched them, so I think they turned out as something that the viewers can enjoy too. This is of a higher difficulty level than flashy action, but even worldwide, I believe it is something that can only be done with Japanese animation.

Q.: At the beginning of episode 2, when Touma helped Yuuta, he was described as someone to be feared, but what was the reason for that?

A.: Because he snaps easily. He must be famous for it.

Q.: What were the words that Nakao-kun threw at Itsuki-kun on episode 3?

A.: He chose cruel words and spoke them out. Sakurai also says it during the series, but his words were meant to show that they can hurt someone. However, that terminology unfortunately seems to be forbidden from being said on TV, so during the post-recording, we decided to mute it.

Q.: Who made the lemon honey pickles that were placed on those two benches at lunch in episode 11?

A.: It was Yuuta. Yuuta was also making drinks for everyone during practice, so I think he was providing modest support while nestling close to the feelings of the club members.

Q.: I want to know what the recordings are like!

A.: The number of people was so big they could not fit inside the booth, but I could feel an unanimous enthusiasm towards series from all of them. There were also many cast members who came to me with questions even about things that were not depicted in the animation in an attempt to understand the characters’ personalities. On the other hand, when the New Year’s issue was announced, we gathered in front of the TV and made merry, and we got along well.

Q.: I want to see the floor plan of everyone’s houses!!

A.: I believe this will be included in the setting reference book, although it is just a part of it, so please look forward to that. When making the rooms, we created them after deciding on the floor plans, having in mind the daily life style of each family. I had even the parts that were not animated be made in detail, so I think I gave the settings designer a hard time. *laughs*

Q.: Were there any references to actual players or games for the soft tennis parts, such as forms and play styles?

A.: We actually went to collect data at middle school competitions in Tokyo, and used references from the practice skills of middle schooler clubs such as the ones from Seimei Academy, as well as the Lucent Cup and other such tournaments that involve influential national athletes, including their different levels of prowess.

Q.: Do all the club members know that Touma-kun likes dinosaurs and Nao-kun likes fish?

A.: They do, somehow or other. I think boys their age have their hands full with their own matters, so they do not mind other people’s tastes that much.

Q.: What kind of practice do the soft tennis club members of Shijou Minami do on rainy days?

A.: We have depicted a little bit of this in the drama CD of the second volume, so please look forward to it.

Q.: About the incident that happened in the soft tennis club five years earlier, which Sakurai-sensei knows of. Does it have anything to do with Ryouma, who was the ace back then, and his pair, as well as little Touma and Maki? I am also concerned about the clover protection charm.

A.: The story of their past is one of the things I want to write about in the future. There are also hints in each of their lines, so please try to watch the main story again.

Q.: What was the intention behind not giving a title to each episode?

A.: “Hoshiai no Sora” was written through taking cuts of those children’s lives, so we did not make any conveniences for the developments of the stories from each episode. Therefore, our intention was that the first episode was the first story and the last episode was the last story, thus we did not give them titles.

Q.: I want to know in detail the reason why the Itsuse brothers started playing soft tennis, their family structure and their school lives! (Sorry if this has already been made public...)

A.: This is part of what I want to depict in episode 13 onwards.

Q.: Why did Itsuki only give pet names to Maki and Kanako? Is there any sort of specific criteria for Itsuki’s usage of pet names?

A.: Itsuki has actually given everyone a pet name in his mind. They are peculiar nicknames fitting of a cynic person like Itsuki. He merely does not voice them because he thinks the other person will get angry if he says it to their face.

Q.: Why does Tsubasa-kun wear a T-shirt that says “15”?

A.: It is 15 as in “fifteen years old”. He looks up to that age, or rather, he might just want to ride off on a stolen bike. *laughs* Tsubasa is still thirteen, though. Thirteen-year-olds think of fifteen-year-olds as grown-ups.

Q.: Everyone’s individualities show through in that scene from episode 2 where they are all running and I quite like it, but how did you decide on and animate the particularities in the way each of them runs?

A.: I drew a rough sketch of the characteristics in each of their running styles, then had them clean-copied by the animation director, Irie-san.

Q.: Who has the best grades amongst the characters? Also, who has the worst ones?

A.: Rintarou has the best grades regardless of subject. Since he is a hard worker, his grades are top-class in his school year. On the other hand, the biggest dummy is Shigo. I am thinking of including the anecdotes related to this in episode 13 onwards.

Q.: I have the impression that you write about “things that might not be commonplace, but are a part of commonplace daily life”, without making the issues that each character bears into something excessively tragic. If there was any point in the shooting where you planned this out, I would like you to tell us.

A.: I believe animation already has a special filter for the shooting just from the fact that it is hand-drawn. That’s why I thought that dropping the ostentatious performance and making pure animation art would suffice this time. Since we were handling sensitive contents, we did not do an unnecessarily exaggerated staging. This might not be as interesting if shot in the same way as live actions, but the portrayal as animation is in itself enough for the shooting. Shots where they are walking, for example, are already an incredibly special picture, so isn’t this the greatness of animation?

Q.: Are Yuuta-kun’s feelings for Touma romantic love? Or is he sitting on the fence between love and friendship? Maybe it is admiration?

A.: I think there’s a part of him deep inside that has not yet figured it out. Surprisingly enough, Maki is the one who seems to understand it accurately.

Q.: How did you choose the rackets of each club member? Please tell us about the rackets of Arashi, Joy, the Itsuse brothers and Ryouma as well.

A.: For the rackets that have models, I picked them after deciding on my images of the position and skills of each one. Rackets have their own levels and popularity in real life, so for that part, I referenced the information I received from each maker. For example, I selected a racket that is, just as Touma said, easy for beginners to use as Maki’s first racket.

Q.: Jizue-san’s music was impressive as there is a sense of transparency to it, but the environment sounds were rather effective in that scene right before getting to the EV at the end of episode 5, so it felt like an extention of daily life and the sense of tension came alive. What kind of points were you particular about when making it?

A.: Music and sound effects can convey what the dialogues and acting do not. Even if a character is laughing, they aren’t always truly smiling on the inside. On the other hand, it’s not like we are going to play dreary music just because they’re scared. We did not put music in that scene precisely in order to enhance the unease. If we put music in it, we end up restricting its image. What we wanted people to feel was not fear, but the anxiety of wondering if something was about to happen.

Q.: How did you do the paste-up of the rackets’ gut strings?

A.: We had it pasted during the shooting. There were so many materials to be pasted other than this, such as books and cloth bibs, that the photography staff screamed. There were also many parts that we ended up omitting in the main story. Speaking of gut strings, there were special scenes where we did them as animation instead of paste-ups. The scene where Maki’s racket was destroyed was also entirely hand-drawn.

Q.: What was the reason for the OP and ED being cut off in the last episode?

A.: To emphasize that episode 12 is not the end of the story. The story of those boys that exists inside me is not yet complete, and I have only depicted half of it. I wanted the viewers to feel that the story would continue after this, so I directed it that way.

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reflectionsofacreator · 3 years

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Word count: 1693 | Also over on my [ao3] Set during AC2. Lizzie is not an OC.

This one’s been eating at me, might as well post it -- it’s more of a dialogue piece than anything, similar to the intro conversations Desmond can have with Shaun or Rebecca.

---

“Well aren’t you a handsome one? Yes you are, look at how sharp your teeth are! Here, here’s some food for you…”

Desmond followed the sound of the cooing down and around the corner, to the more isolated part of the warehouse. His Animus session was wrapped up for the day, and he still had a bunch of energy to try and burn through before their dinner got here. So… off to the warehouse jungle gym it was.

He found Lizzie sitting on the ground against a support pillar, her laptop on her thigh, and cooing at a rat, scratching it as she fed it a bit of her food.

“You know, that’ll just make him bring his friends,” Desmond pointed out, coming around to lean against the railing. “And then we’ll have an infestation.”

Lizzie looked up at him, blinking owlishly for a moment, and then shrugged. “He’s not hurting anyone. Besides, he needs a bit of food, he’s skinny. And I told him not to bring his friends back here, so we should be fine.”

“You told the rat not to bring his friends here?” Desmond asked, just to clarify.

“Mmhm,” she said, and pet the little thing on the head. It squeaked and sniffed at her, before investigating curiously for more food. “He’s smart, he knows what I mean.”

Desmond had no idea if she was pulling his leg or being completely serious. He’d already been through so much this last week that a supposedly sentient rat barely registered.

“Uh. Sure.” He said, and crossed his arms. “Sorry, I’m a little bit of a disadvantage here. I got to know Shaun and Rebecca some, and I know Lucy from Abstergo, but you’re kind of a mystery for me.”

“I mean, you’ve only been here a few days, right?” She asked, smiling at him. “And I’m usually down here, instead of in the Animus room.”

“Yeah, why is that?” Desmond asked, gesturing to the warehouse. “You don’t even have a chair down here, let alone a desk or anything. Wouldn’t you be more comfortable upstairs? With the air conditioning?”

Lizzie laughed slightly and pet the rat again, and got it to cuddle up into her lap. The image was cute, but as a long time New Yorker Desmond wanted to tell her that it would skin her alive.

“I’m somewhat claustrophobic,” she admitted. “I’m better than I was as a kid, but sometimes it still gets to me. The warehouse feels bigger, compared to the tiny loft. And well, Shaun and Rebecca banter so much, it’s hard to think.”

“Yeah, that’s fair,” Desmond chuckled, and slowly came over to sit down. “I’m usually wrapped up in the Animus so I don’t hear them often, but sometimes…”

“Speaking of,” she said, and started to tap at her laptop. “ I have the first few glyphs you’ve found decoded. The ones from Subject Sixteen. There’s more to them, but I got the base encryption out of the way.”

“Oh hey, that’s awesome!” Desmond said, grinning as he leaned over to view the laptop. On one screen was a program that seemed to be partially animus tech, and the other was an email screen. The message she had open was just filled with lines, looking like slashes or Is.

“You read cuneiform?” He asked, lifting a brow.

“Huh? Oh, no,” she said, and closed out of the email. Her desktop had a picture of herself from a few years ago, a younger girl, and an older teenage boy, who was covered in scars. Their features were similar enough that Desmond would bet that they were related. “Well, I can read sometimes, I studied it in college, but that’s not cuneiform, it’s Claw.”

“Claw?” He asked, keeping an eye on the rat.

“An alphabet my siblings and I use to talk,” she smiled. “Don’t worry, it’s encoded even through the alphabet. I doubt anyone could read it, even if they were to hack into Hephaestus.”

“Family, huh?” He mused, and leaned back. “Does that mean you’re not a born Assassin?”

“Nope!” She said cheerily, and sat back against the support beam. “I’m actually sort of similar to Shaun, except I got caught hacking into Hephaestus, not Abstergo. I usually operate out of home base, but Rebecca and Shaun asked me to help with this job, considering how important the Animus is.”

“What do you usually do, then?”

“I’m a code breaker, and a hacker,” she said, a touch of pride in her voice. “I can break any encryption, any code, if given enough time, and even then it doesn’t take me long. Hacking’s more of a required skill in the Brotherhood nowadays, so I picked it up by proxy, but code is my specialty.”

“And I suppose that also translates to genetic code?” He asked, a wry smile on his face.

“Now you’re getting it!” Lizzie grinned. “Though not quite—Lucy’s better at genetics than I am, but I did help her get the initial programming for turning genetic code into computer code, and digitizing it into something readable.”

Desmond frowned at that, tilting his head. Didn’t that mean Lizzie would’ve known Lucy in college, or…? Lizzie looked a little young for that.

At his confused glance, she chuckled. “I went to college when I was fifteen. I graduated high school when I was fourteen, got my GED and everything. I didn’t get recruited until I was about eighteen though.”

“Yeah?” Desmond asked, feeling vaguely sick. He was sixteen when he ran, and hearing that she was barely older than that was …. unsettling. But he didn’t let it show. “What about your family? You must be close, to keep exchanging emails even in the Brotherhood.”

Lizzie grimaced, and scratched the rat in her lap. “Gregor isn’t happy with me, yeah. Thinks I’ve thrown away my life for some stupid reason. Boots thinks it’s great, but she doesn’t understand what I do. She thinks I just travel.”

“Boots?” He laughed, shaking his head. “That’s great. Gotta say, though, your brother might be onto something. Being an Assassin isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be.”

“That’s why you ran away?” She asked, lifting a brow at him. Shaun had made it judgemental, but she didn’t, strangely enough. “Most everyone’s heard about how you left the Farm when you were a teenager.”

Desmond shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest. Normal civilians would’ve seen it as defensive, or hiding, but to Assassins it was a non-threatening gesture, a willingness to talk. “Thought I was being raised in a cult, and that everyone was a liar.”

Lizzie quirked an eyebrow at him. “... Gregor thinks that too.”

“Your brother’s probably right,” he said lightly. “I may be here because I want to get back at those Abstergo bastards, but… doesn’t change how the Assassins are run. He sounds like a smart kid.”

Lizzie smiled at that, looking down at the rat in her lap and scratching his ears once again. She didn’t say anything for a moment, thinking so hard that Desmond could practically hear it.

“I figured…” She started, her voice trailing off.

“Figured what? Use your skills for something good, or something like that?” Desmond asked, and just barely managed to keep the laugh out of his voice. He still wasn’t sure if the Assassins were doing good, more just… Trying to stop things from getting worse.

“Well, something like that,” Lizzie admitted, looking away to the warehouse. Her voice was quiet, melancholy, even. “I’ve done a lot of good with my skills before, so I thought I might as well throw my lot in with some to try and do even more good. I watched my brother and little sister get caught up in a lot of stuff, unable to get away, and I hated it. It had already claimed our father, and even our mom. I wanted to be the last one to stick it out, until I couldn’t, not anymore, and I was swept up into everything, trying to prevent a war, or at least prevent some more losses.”

Desmond stared at her, feeling slightly out of his depth. But something about the way she talked called to him and the way he had seen Altair, and now Ezio, got thrown into situations out of their control. Grand and oppressive, leaving scars on both sides.

“So I got involved,” she shrugged, still staring out over the warehouse. Her eyes skimmed over the boxes, clearly thinking about something else. Maybe even seeing something else. “I learned a lot, helped save a lot of lives by using my talents. Codebreakers like me were as rare as trees, or so the saying goes.”

“That…. Doesn’t make any sense,” Desmond said, laughing a little to cover his nervousness. Reflexively, he looked, and Looked again. She was blue, just like Lucy, Shaun, and Rebecca, but he couldn’t shake the odd feeling.

“Not here, no,” she said, smiling softly. “Don’t worry about it. Long, long story short… I want to help. I’m good at it. Gregor… He sort of got thrown into it, without meaning to, and he still has scars for it. Understandably, he doesn’t want me to get hurt.”

“Maybe you should listen to him,” Desmond said quietly, so not to let his words echo up to the loft above.

“Yeah, maybe,” she said, and looked down at the rat in her lap. He yawned and rolled over to get more comfortable, little paws sticking up in the air. “But, Desmond, could you live with yourself if you had the ability to do something good, and then just… not do it?”

Desmond looked down at his hand, lifting it up to stare at his left ring finger. It felt weird to have it, somehow. He flexed his fingers, and automatically tried to trigger his hidden blade. The fact that the last one he touched was a modern ceramic one in the Farm when he was fifteen didn’t even factor, really, he just missed the comforting weight of a bracer.

“You know?” He murmured, looking at her over his fist. “I think I’m going to find out, one way or another.”

#Assassin's Creed #underland chronicles #Desmond Miles #lizzie campbell #creator writes #fanfic #welcome to the crossover only i will find interesting #tuc fandom consists of 8 people and a broken sword so like #if you're out there #posts this in the dead of night and runs

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socksual-innuendos · 4 years

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Fallout OC Companion Meme

Ok so I’m redoing this and adding perks and personal quests. General is up top, companion quest is under cut.

Name: Emilia Vazquez

Location: Atomic Wrangler

Emilia can be hired as a companion after completing the side quest “Strangers in the Fight”

(art by @courierspikeee)

Companion Wheel

I think we should travel together: “Oh, you really want me to come along? No promises I’ll behave.”

Use Melee: “So you want to see an old lady get her ass beat. Haha, so would I.”

Use Ranged: “Don’t worry if I disappear, you don’t have to see me to know I’m still around.” / “Good idea, the further I am the better I work.”

Open Inventory: “Ayayay! Use your own pockets and don’t bum off me!” / “Ah, the Lord has blessed me with a companion that will carry my shit for me— no? Well, worth a try.”

Stay Close: “Trust me, you do not want me up your ass”

Keep Distance: “Listen, whatever you’re smelling, it wasn’t me”

Stealth: “Aah, my specialty.”

Back Up: “Oh? You want to stand here? Fine.” / “My knee only works in so many directions, mijo/a”

Be Passive: “Your call, but when things get hairy I’m doing best for me.” / “If I hear shots, I will start shooting. Never doubt this.”

Be Aggressive: “Shoot them before they shoot us? That’s the most sound thing I’ve heard from you.” / “Good, they’ll be dead before they even know we’re there.”

Use Stimpack: “You ever need anything stronger, hahaha, you let me know...” // “Aaah...I could use another of those.”

Wait Here: “If that’s what you want. No promises I’ll still be here when you come back.” // “If I bore you, just say so.”

Follow Me: “Oh so now you want me back.”

Send her to the Lucky 38: “Perfecto. I’ve been wanting a shower.”

Send her Home: “Alright, you know where to find me.” (can be found in the atomic wrangler)

Injured: “Aagh, my other knee—!” / “I’m not getting paid enough for this...”

Death: (before personal quest) “I can’t...not yet...” / “Aaah, sorry Camila.” -- (after personal quest) “Always knew I’d die on the job—“ / “Mi renacuajita— mama will see you soon.”

Aggression: aggressive

Confidence: brave/foolhardy

Assistance: helps friends and allies

Perks

Like the other companions, Emilia has a starting perk that is replaced by another depending on how the player completes her personal quest.

Desierto salvajísimo: Weird things happen in the desert and with Emilia by your side they just got weirder! Something was definitely in that peyote...(Compounds on Wild Wasteland perk.)

Should the courier convince Emilia to apologize to her sister, she will gain Thy Brother’s Keeper perk.

Thy Brother’s Keeper: When the player falls below half health, Emilia will prioritize enemies around the player and gain a 25% damage increase.

If the courier convinces Emilia to let go of her sister, she will gain the Gone Rogue perk.

Gone Rogue: Stealth kills now do 25% more damage and enemies lose interest faster while sneaking.

Drops

El Silbón - Emilia’s sniper rifle. Unscoped shots have a 25% increase to critical chance.

Tattered Journal - A small journal that contains memoirs and recipes. Who is it for?

Froggy Grenades - Smoke bombs painted to look like frogs. Activating them will halve the chance of limbs being crippled and lower time it takes for enemies to lose sight of the user.

Quests and Recruitment

Strangers in the Fight

“You’ve been tipped off about an assassination that is suppose to happen tonight at The Aces. You aren’t sure who the mark is, but you’d gain some reputation and caps if you prevented their death.”

The courier can approach this quest in two ways. Either they hunt down the assassin or figure out who the mark is and warn them. Should the courier try and hunt down the assassin, they will be knocked unconscious backstage and fail the quest. Should they chose to investigate and warn the mark, the mark will thank them and leave The Aces that night. Later, the courier can find the mark dead in an alley the morning after they complete the quest. In either case, the quest will complete and the next time the courier enters the Atomic Wrangler they will find Emilia. Walking close enough to her will trigger an audio clip where she drunkenly berates the courier for causing trouble ‘the other night’.

Talking to her will give the courier a few options of dealing with her. Without perks, the courier can initiate dialogue that will lead to either recruitment or casual conversation. Recruiting can be done in two ways, either the courier can hire her for 300 caps or pass a speech check of 55. Passing the speech check makes her a permanent companion and allows the courier to access her personal quest, while hiring must be repeated if the courier dismisses her. If her health drops too low while on the road, she will dismiss herself and return to the Wrangler. If the courier has the terrifying presence perk, they can start a bar fight with Emilia in which killing her will not net a large loss in karma.

When she is recruited as a permanent companion her personal quest becomes accessible. To trigger it, the courier must complete quests for the ghoul Camila found in The Aces. The quests can be completed prior to recruiting her, but they must be completed to Camila’s approval. Once Emilia is recruited, a new quest from Camila will be available. Completing it requires Emilia to be in your party and when turning it in Camila will comment how her sister “Can’t seem to stop looming” and needs to let her “find her own way”. She will request that the courier doesn’t bring her around the Tops again, but thank them for their time. Officially, this is the start to Emilia’s personal quest.

A Tale of Two Sisters

“It seems as though Emilia is experiencing some family troubles. She’s not the type to open up about things, but if you travel with her she may let details slip. Keep her in your party and don’t push things.”

To do Emilia’s quest, the courier must keep her in their party when completing certain quests around the Mojave. Quests do not have a specific order to be completed in, however turning them in before acquiring Emilia as a companion will lock out completing her personal quest.

In Memoriam

“Elaine and her family are survivors from a Legion raid. Lately her eldest son has been closed off and she’s worried it’s because they left his father’s possessions behind while evacuating. Head down south to their old farm and see if you can find anything to bring back.”

Within the Bitter Springs camp a refugee named Elaine can be found. Talking to her reveals that she is worried about her son, who has been closed off since they evacuated their ranch. She says although their family was lucky enough to get away in one piece, she had lost her husband a few years prior. Their son was particularly close to him and he would often ‘talk’ to him after his passing. Since coming to Bitter Springs, those talks have lessened and he’s grown more distant. She suspects that their abrupt move caused some disconnect. Go down to what remains of their ranch and find something of her husband’s to bring back.

Heading southeast of Novac, the courier will eventually find a pillaged farmhouse. Going inside, the courier can pick up either a journal, a pocket knife, or a charred Dinky Dinosaur. Taking any will complete the objective, but each gives a slightly different dialogue when returning to Elaine. She will explain the value behind each item and thank the courier for their help. The quest will complete but to trigger the dialogue with Emilia, the courier must talk to Elaine’s son. He will recognize the courier and thank them, opening more dialogue options to talk about his father. Completing all dialogue paths and then talking to Emilia will allow her to comment on the boy’s outlook of grief. She will chastise how freely he talks about his father to the strangers, saying that loss can’t be fixed by just remembering someone and how it isn’t worth upsetting oneself again. The courier can respond to her in two major ways. They can either agree with her, saying that repressing grief is the only way to reign it in or they can try to convince her that closure sometimes requires vulnerability.

Take Us Back

“Change is nature. Some accept what life hands them, while others push back.”

Take Us Back can be a quest obtained by talking to a server named Charlie in the Ultra Lux. When talked to, the Courier can chose a dialogue path where she will tell them that she heard the news about Primm and that she is glad the town is now safe. Talking with her more, she will confess that she is worried about a friend who lives in Primm and that she has yet to hear from her since the attack. The Courier can then offer the check up on them, to which Charlie will express surprise that they would be willing to be so charitable with their help. The Courier can say they are either happy to help, or that they weren’t intending on doing this for free. Charlie accepts either option, and the Courier receives the quest Take Us Back.

The quest will take the Courier to Primm where they will meet Atta and her wife. The Courier can tell Atta about Charlie and her concern, to which Atta will say that she intended on sending a letter but that she had missed the last courier that came into town. She will be grateful for Charlie’s concern and that the Courier came to check up on them. Atta will then ask that the Courier take her letter back to Charlie, and will give them a small amount of caps for their trouble. The Courier can then pass a barter check to get more caps from Atta. If the Courier talks to Emi after this exchange, she will sarcastically mention how sweet it is that the Courier is passing notes around in class.

Upon returning to Charlie, she will read Atta’s letter and grow annoyed while reading. The Courier can then inquire as to what is upsetting Charlie. and Charlie will then bitterly remark that Atta always mentions her spouse, how those two are inseparable, and that it is the spouse’s fault that Atta moved to Primm. The Courier can then tell Charlie she needs to reevaluate herself and to pay up which will end the quest, or they can pry further. If asked, Charlie will admit how much things changed since Atta met her spouse, and that she has always been bitter at being second place since. She will then make a comment about how if she could get rid of the spouse, things might go back to how they were. The Courier can ask how serious she is about that comment, and she will mention that if she could find an assassin, she’d be very serious. The Courier then has the option to accept her offer, or lie and pretend to accept her offer.

If the Courier chooses to lie, they are given the option to tell Atta about the plan. Although she will not believe it at first, the Courier can pass a small speech check that allows them to convince her. She will be shocked, but thank the Courier for warning her. If the Courier takes the job they can kill Atta’s spouse anyway they chose so long as they do not get caught and do not kill Atta. Either choice requires the Courier to return to Charlie and tell her what they have done. Both choices lead to Atta sending Charlie a letter, though what is said will differ.

If the Courier decided to tell Atta, her letter will tell Charlie to never contact her again, and Charlie will become angry at the Courier for lying. Whatever the Courier says, Charlie will remain angry, and tell them to leave. After, if the Courier talks to Emi, she will joke that Charlie had it coming for being so trusting of strangers and that she should have been smarter about interfering with others’ lives. The Courier can either agree, which will end the conversation with Emilia laughing, or they can explain that people have lives outside of others and that should be respected.

Should the Courier follow through with the assassination, Atta’s letter will tell Charlie about her loss, and that she is considering coming to stay with her a while after funeral preparations are made. Charlie will thank the Courier, saying how glad she is that things will go back to normal after this. The Courier can talk to Emi afterwards, and she will make a comment about how she’s seen similar scenarios in the past, and that they never work. If the Courier asks what she means, she will say that murder can be a tool to fix things, but often its just a wrench being thrown at a broken water pipe. She will then say that she can’t blame Charlie for feeling the way she did, that she too understands what it feels like to have someone slip away, but she will be critical of how Charlie handled the situation saying that its better to prevent change before it happens as once it does things hardly return to how they were.

Friends Like These

“Problems don’t have to be dealt with alone. In times like these, it is nice to have friends.”

This quest requires that the Courier has taken Raul through his personal quest. It doesn’t matter which path Raul took so long as Old School Ghoul is completed. Travelling with Emi for a while after completing either Take Us Back or In Memorium will trigger her to talk to the Courier. She will say that she’s enjoyed their company despite not being fond of companions and will mention how travelling has been her entire life. She will then go to say how things seem to be coming to a slow in her life but that she isn’t quite ready to retire yet, and the thought of such an abrupt change leaves her anxious. Emilia will then joke, asking if the Courier could ever see her living a mellowed life, and the conversation will end.

Later, with Emilia as a companion, if the Courier talks with Raul a dialogue option mentioning a friend will appear. Choosing this the Courier will tell Raul about Emilia and he will joke about the introduction, asking what brought it up. The Courier can say that they thought those two would get along, and Raul will make a few more jokes. Ending the dialogue here will progress the quest, though a few more options will be present. After, Emi will comment on the introduction, joking that she can find her own hookups. The Courier can then say that if she is worried over retirement, to talk to Raul. She will consider this, and thank the Courier for remembering their conversation. After a time, Emilia will talk to them, again thanking the Courier for introducing her to Raul.

Completing a Tale of Two Sisters

Once the courier has completed the three quests, Emilia will ask to talk with them. If the courier accepts, she will inquire about them, asking if they’ve ever been responsible for someone before. The courier can say yes, no, or that they don’t remember, and Emilia’s response will depend on what is chosen. Ultimately she will come back to asking the courier what they thought of if they weren’t needed or wanted. The courier can ask if this is about her sister, and Emilia will get defensive, but confirm that is who she’s referring to. The courier can ask for details, and Emilia will tell them how she has been responsible for Camila’s well being for most of her life but recently she has been asserting her independence more and more. Emilia confesses that while she knows her sister will have to survive without her and is glad that she is finding her own way, she herself feels lost. The courier can then pry more, and Emilia will admit to expressing her frustrations through anger at her sister and that this is causing the strain on their relationship. If the courier tells her to apologize, Emilia will get defensive and end the conversation, but if they say that perhaps their relationship is coming to an end, Emilia will sadly acknowledge it and ask to be left alone. Later, regardless of what was picked, Emilia will ask the courier if they meant what they said. The courier can either say yes or change their answer. If the courier confirms that they think she should apologize Emilia will thank them, saying that she will need to think more on what to say to her sister. If the courier reassures her that all relationships eventually see a close and that this might mark the end for theirs, she will reluctantly agree with them and say that she needs some time to come to accept this.

Depending on what the courier chose, Emilia will gain a new perk. If the courier tells her to apologize, Emilia will gain Thy Brother’s Keeper perk. Later, the courier can talk to Camila in The Aces and she will thank them for their help, saying that she’s ready for both of them to start healing. If the courier tells Emilia to let her sister go, she will gain the Gone Rogue perk. Camila will not be in her usual spot in The Aces after this and if the courier asks Tommy Torini about her, he will mention that she has asked for time off.

El Silbón

“Legend tells of a lost spirit who wanders the world searching for revenge. His presence is only announced by a whistle.”

Upon killing Camila, the courier receives this quest with no map marker. If the courier had Emilia in party while attacking her sister, she permanently leaves the courier and can no longer be found at The Wrangle. For the rest of the game, the courier is being hunted. Emilia becomes a hostile random encounter that does not make herself known aside from a quiet whistle before she attacks. She will not stop attacking until the courier is either dead or they drop her health below 2/3, in which she will drop a smoke bomb and disappear. Emilia will continue to hunt the courier down until she is dead. Hiring a companion will lower her encounter rate, however if she is aggroed by more than one NPC she will try to escape. Upon killing Emilia, she will have three special items on her possession and two randomized chems. Her special items are her sniper rifle (El Silbón), a Tattered Journal, and Froggy Grenades.

Ending Slides

If Emilia dies (and El Silbón is not activated)

The life that had claimed so many had finally met its end, but for all Emilia’s infamy there was still one who mourned her. Camila grieved for her sister and all the things that were left unsaid between them but, refusing to let loss consume her, continued singing at The Aces.

If Camila is killed (and Emilia is not killed in El Silbón)

The Wasteland doesn’t discriminate in which lives it takes, and neither did the Courier. Camila, killed within the safety of New Vegas walls, left behind a distraught sister. Unable to handle the loss of her only remaining family, Emilia was overtaken by grief. She squandered what caps she had at the Wrangler and when her debts became too much to repay she was found overdosed in a Freeside alley.

If Emilia is killed in El Silbón

With nothing else to live for, Emilia hunted the Courier down. The murder of her sister was a trespass to be repaid in kind, but the assassin was not invincible. Unable to best the Courier, Emilia fell in battle. For all her anger and pain, she could finally find peace in death.

If Emilia’s personal quest is never completed

Despite all that the sisters had been through, New Vegas had strained their relationship like none before. Camila, though wishing to assert her independence, could not shake the control her sister had on her life. Once their business in the Mojave had been completed, Emilia left the Courier’s company, uprooting her sister once again to wander the Wastes. Although she had once held hope for a future, Camila no longer felt that ambition and remained silently by her sister’s side.

If the Courier sides with Legion and...

Completes Emilia’s quest, telling her to make up with her sister

Seeing that the Mojave was no longer safe, Emilia uprooted her sister one last time. Fleeing north, then east, Emilia’s age caught up to her when the pair reached Indiana. Still determined to keep her sister safe, she pushed on further until they reached the Ohio-West Virginia border where the two were then ambushed by raiders. Overwhelmed by their numbers and worn from her travels, Emilia fell in battle with her sister following suit.

Completes Emilia’s quest, telling her that she and her sister should part ways

Despite the courier’s words that their paths were diverging, Emilia would not let her sister remain in New Vegas when the Legion took the Dam. Uprooting her once more, Emilia led her sister north, then east. Determined to not be controlled by her sibling any longer, Camila fled when the pair reached Minnesota. With her age catching up to her, Emilia was unable to track her sister down. Camila had finally found her freedom.

If the Courier sides with NCR and...

Completes Emilia’s quest, telling her to make up with her sister

Although NCR occupation of Vegas did not sit well with Emilia, it assured that her sister would remain safe. While Camila would go on to be a beloved addition to The Aces, Emilia’s infamy grew with the NCR forcing her off The Strip. Undeterred by her bounty, the assassin would often sneak back into Vegas to enjoy the night life, frequenting The Tops to hear her sister sing.

Completes Emilia’s quest, telling her that she and her sister should part ways

Although NCR occupation of Vegas did not sit well with Emilia, it assured that her sister would remain safe. Employed at The Aces, Camila was able to support herself and was a welcomed addition to The Tops. Taking the Courier’s words to heart, Emilia slipped out of her sister’s life, allowing her the independence she so desired.

If the Courier sides with House and...

Completes Emilia’s quest, telling her to make up with her sister

With Vegas safe from either NCR or Legion influence, the sisters could focus on resolving things between them. Emi, realizing how much independence meant to her sister, finally eased the grip she had on her life. The two were able to come to an understanding and for the time being the pair could call Vegas home.

Completes Emilia’s quest, telling her that she and her sister should part ways

With NCR and Legion no longer a threat on Vegas, Emilia could finally take the Courier’s words to heart and slip from Camila’s life. Although no longer side by side, the sisters both remained in Vegas. Camila continued singing at the Tops while Emilia continued her work and havoc in Freeside. While Camila grew to be a beloved addition to The Aces, Emi went on to grow infamous, leading her to being incarcerated several times.

If the Courier makes New Vegas independent and...

Completes Emilia’s quest, telling her to make up with her sister

Along side New Vegas, Camila celebrated her own independence. Now free to follow her own path she became a beloved addition to The Aces. Emilia, though still afraid of what the future would hold for them, proudly watched as her sister blossomed. For the two siblings, Vegas could be called a home.

Completes Emilia’s quest, telling her that she and her sister should part ways

With Vegas free to rule itself, Camila continued her career at The Tops. While happy for her sister, Emilia took the Courier’s words to heart and removed her presence. But, no matter how far she traveled Emilia would find herself back on The Strip, sitting in the crowd at The Aces listening to her sister sing.

#emi #emilia #emilia vazquez #Camila #camila espinosa vazquez

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aqvarius · 4 years

Text

Masquerade Kiss: Do Bad Girls Like to Self-pleasure? Kazuomi Shido - otona love - chapter 5 summary/translation

this is the cutest, fluffiest chapter that we get before all the steamy stuff begins. sorry it’s coming a bit later than usual, i was super tired and decided to sleep and finish it the next day. basically this entire chapter is just a conversation between you and kazuomi which is both great and terrible for me because my dialogue translations are so boring, but i think the content of this chapter is cute and sweet enough that i hope it’ll satisfy you.

the chapter begins with a quick recap of what just happened at the end of chapter 4 which you can read here, or check out my translations page to read from the start. kazuomi is hugging you from behind and you start to speak, telling him that he’s been so busy lately and you didn’t want him to overdo it, so you didn’t let yourself get “tired out” to your full capacity.

“you were thinking about such a thing?”

“because... i haven’t been able to contact you recently,” you say. “when i turn on the tv, there’s nothing but news about you. it’s not bad news, but it’s all you.”

“it’s like that whenever there’s a new resort project,” kazu explains. “the mass media follows me.”

“that’s because it’s your specialty,” you say. you thought that he would be tired from being so busy, but that might not be the case.

kazuomi thinks that as you said, this degree of busyness is nothing new. however, it’s also true that he was tired without realising it.

“i never thought you’d take a whole day off for my sake like this,” you say. “all the more, i wanted you to relax”

you: “today, i wanted to restfully spend time doing nothing”

meanwhile, kazuomi had thought you wanted to spend a more concentrated* day together.

*濃い - i’m not really sure how else to translate this but it’s a word that’s used to mean when something is deeper/darker (in colour), denser/stronger or thicker/richer (as in a more concentrated soup/sauce). i previously used “enriching” but essentially i think kazuomi means a day that’s more busy or packed with activities/events.

“that’s why you just snuggled up without doing anything, huh”

“hm...? in other words, you did “that” at that time because you were concerned about me?”

“at that time? what are you talking about?” you ask.

“the energy that i use to embrace you runs on a different tank**. don’t worry about me getting tired”

**this is kind of paraphrasing but basically what he is saying is that the physical strength he uses to have sex with you is a separate issue.

at first you stare at him, mystified, as you turn around. suddenly, you leap out of his arms to a good distance away.

“what’s wrong?”

(come on kazuomi don’t do this, you know exactly what’s wrong lmao)

you: “wha...!? eh? i-it can’t be...”

kazu says it seems like you were feeling it on your own without him (as in feeling [good], not literally feeling yourself up).

“that face you have when you’re feeling good... if i can, i’d like the satisfaction of making you make it in my arms”

(lskdf sorry i tried 5 times to phrase this in a way that captures even a little bit of how suave kazuomi is but i just can’t because there are so many parts to that sentence lol)

your face turns red with a vigour that kazuomi has never seen before.

you: “ah, ummm, that’s....!”

“it’s not like you need to hide it. it’s my responsibility that i couldn’t satisfy you”

“...or so i thought... but it seems like i was mistaken”

you stutter some more and then say, “that morning, i thought i was going to tire you out again...”

“i mean... did you see it!?” you ask.

kazuomi explains that he was going to call out to you to take a shower with him.

“you just be joking...! i don’t believe it!” you exclaim. “i-in the first place, you shouldn’t...!”

“considerably agitated, mc is completely flustered.”

“what, is it my fault after all?”

you: “you’re, you... you”

you: “...you do it well...” (😔)

btw i’m only posting these particular screenshots bc it’s hysterical to me how incoherent she is

this is another answer outside of his expectations, and his head tilts.

you: “...i couldn’t forget your fingers... even after waking up, my body... that is...”

“i see. you wanted me”

you: “...i would have been fine if you weren’t in front of me though”

you: “that is... no matter what, i was horny***...”

***this word also means in agony/anguished but i looked it up and it’s also slang for horny, thanks weblio for helping me yet again lmao

"now that you mention it, i thought you kept looking this way that time,” kazuomi thinks. “it seems as though the thing i was curious about [that caused her to keep looking my way that morning] was my fingers that had pleasured her the night before”

“what’s that about. you should have just told me honestly”

(not sure how to translate the tone when he says “なんだ” here but i hope you get it)

“if it’s what you desire, can’t i provide you with as much satisfaction you as much as you like?”

“didn’t i just say... i didn’t want you to get tired?” you say. “if i said the word, you would definitely indulge my every selfish whim no matter the situation”

“it’s my pleasure”

(like the present tense version of “that would be my pleasure”. ugha;slkfjds kazu loves spoiling his mc so much. this is literally the best version of him and we are so blessed to see it)

kazuomi explains that it’s the only time that you can “melt” since you can't leave any gaps open during your usual work (melt here meaning like be ravished/in [sexual] ecstasy). i’m not sure if he’s referring to the busyness of her job or the fact that she’s always playing a tightly controlled persona, but likely the latter.

“don’t you think that seeing that face would blow away the fatigue of my work?”

you: “no way... you would never think of such a sentimental thing”

(lmao girl if only you could see his internal dialogue like we can!!)

“heh, i would never? well, that’s been the case so far”

“but i would say... you’re special?”

he captures you, who had escaped, again and hugs you tightly from behind.

you: “shido...?”

“do you love**** me that much?”

****he actually says “like” but voltage tends to translate this as love, although it’s not as heavy/deep as 愛してる which is super serious

“how did you get that from this situation?” you reply.

after wriggling a little in his arms, you quickly become docile.

you: “...i love you”

kazuomi: “yeah. i know”

same thing with the like/love as above. you also say it in kind of a slightly petulant way.

ALSO i’m here to interrupt because can you BELIEVE shido “worried about this for days and gave his friends all the sordid details and planned the most uncharacteristic day off because he was worried he wasn’t enough for you” kazuomi had the AUDACITY to just han solo you like that????

“i know that you know, but... i love you,” you say.

“...i see. you wanted me so much that you couldn’t be settled until you took care of yourself”

“but still, you worried about me and didn’t say anything...”

“...i’m glad,” kazuomi says.

“my love was properly transmitted to you”

(🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰 BEST BOY KAZUOMI)

you: “about that... isn’t it obvious?”

“to say that it’s not conveyed that i’m being loved that much, i’m not obtuse” (i think this is what she’s trying to say, basically that she can feel that his love for her is being communicated properly?)

“that’s right. you’re that kind of a woman”

kazuomi thinks that you’re always a step ahead of his thoughts, saying things that show how much you understand him.

“there’s no way such a woman couldn’t receive my love.”

“could it be that you thought i did ... something like that because i wasn’t satisfied with you?” you ask.

kazuomi replies that that would be the ordinary train of thought, adding that while he’s still on the topic, he thinks there’s still something you’re not satisfied with.

you tell him you’ve accepted his feelings with all of your might, you’re not dissatisfied...

“but that wasn’t the case at that time, right?” questions kazuomi.

you turn in his direction, and he looks down into your face. you cast your eyes down, embarrassed. he tries to catch your gaze and you look down further.

you: “asshole*****...”

*****other options i was playing with were “meanie” or “jerk” but they didn’t have the right feel. imagine her calling him a knobhead tho.

“i want to make all your wishes come true”

“it’s a foul to not have concern [for your partner]. in that case, i’d have to do the same thing”

basically he’s saying since you were so concerned about me, i’m going to have to return the favour. look at him, making it out like it’s a game of equals when he’s really just a fool in love...

“the same thing... meaning...” you say.

“if you won’t get tired, i’ll embrace you as much as you like”

i’m trying to keep the sentences quite concise but he’s basically saying if you’re still not worn out (from the copious amounts of lovemaking) and want more, he’ll have sex with you as many times as you want. in case you didn’t already know, often when you see mcs get flustered bc their love interest talks about “holding/embracing” them, it’s because the same word can be used to mean sleeping/having sex with.

“but... i always want to [make] love [to] you”

..........!

(he’s saying no matter when, he always wants to love you, which in this case means “make love to” but i guess can maybe also be read in the emotional sense? idk we all know kazu is secretly a huge romantic)

finally, you raise your face. kazuomi doesn’t miss the heat flaring in your eyes when you see his expression.

you: “in that case... i... want you to hold***** me”

*****same situation re: the hold/embrace thing. she’s saying “then have sex with me” lmao.

also lkajsflks i’m crying bc kazuomi will give you anything you ever wished for (and probably delights in being able to provide it), you just have to dare to ask him

“okay”

kazuomi is giving off an aura that he thinks would make you pull back if you were on mission (i think this is what it’s trying to say lol but not 100%), but at times like this, you always get embarrassed and show a shy and troubled face.

“the one who lights my fire is always “you””

basically he’s talking about the true you, not arisa. alksdfj kazuomi is so in love i can’t BEAR IT

“whether you’re being bold or honest, or even when we’re bargaining******...”

“i’m in trouble because of how fascinated i am by all of it.”

******he’s talking about all the bets and negotiations and challenges and banter between you two. actually there’s a lot more i want to explain here. i chose to use “bold”, but it also refers to when you’re being audacious (like if you’re cheekily talking back to him). honest in this case also means frank/straightforward (about your feelings), but can also imply docility/obedience. essentially the two have very different (almost contrary) vibes.

that’s it for chapter 5! hope you are keeping your teeth brushed to prevent all the cavities this chapter will inevitably give you. i’m floored by how much of a lovestruck fool kazuomi is. maybe it’s just the poor quality of my translations even though i tried somewhat to preserve some tone in cases where i felt it really needed it, but i feel like his internal dialogue here is a lot sweeter and straightforward than his external dialogue? i’m glad they sorted out the misunderstanding though, and how sweet of his mc to be so concerned about his health. i love seeing them be all cheesy for each other but sometimes disguising it as banter because let’s be real, both of them are total love virgins and don’t know how to just straightforwardly talk about the true depth of their affections for each other.

in the next chapter, kazuomi returns the favour, things get reaaaal smutty, and i get a headache from trying to understand sexual euphemisms. please let me know what you thought of this chapter!

i’ve set up a ko-fi page here and would be incredibly grateful if you would like to support me for translations and being able to purchase more routes to recap in english!

click here for chapter 6

#kazuomi shido #masquerade kiss #voltage smut #otona love #otkoi #summary #translation #voltage inc #otome game #voltage otome #otome romance #悪女はセルフプレジャーがお好き？#マスカレード・キス〜危険な駆け引き〜

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kpopfanfictrash · 5 years

Text

Operation: Intelligence

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: Hoseok / Reader

Word Count: 2,819

AU: Spy

Dialogue Prompt: “Not the time for a costume change!” (slightly tweaked to fit with dialogue lol)

↳ part of my AU drabble game

“So.” Bored, you glanced between the two men before you. “This is a summer camp. For spies.”

One of the men winced. The other remained perfectly still, his mahogany hair perfect under the blunt, fluorescent lighting. You always noticed the lighting first. Lighting, then people, then scenery – in that order.

As though you’d said something funny, the first man smiled. “Ah, no. We prefer the term intelligence operative to spy. Has a nicer ring to it, you see?”

The other man didn’t move. He simply watched from behind his dark-colored glasses. There was no label to the lenses, no brand name in order to be instantly recognizable.

Of course, their kind would prefer the term intelligence operative. Stifling an eye roll, you chose not to respond. Spy, intelligence operative, hit man, criminal – whatever they chose to call themselves, it didn’t matter to you. Their trade wasn’t glamorous, no matter what modern movies and novels would have people believe. Growing up on the streets with parents who were grifters at best, thieves and con artists at worst, you knew the cops were never your friends.

You were only a few years into adulthood when you packed both your little sister and yourself into a hotwired car, sped from their driveway and began a new life. Your parents’ adventures had thrilled you when you were younger, but once you grew up, all the fun disappeared. There were only so many times you could come home from school to a threat by some thug named Benny insisting your parents owed him or his employer money.

As soon as you left their driveway, you vowed never to return and yet, here you were.

A liar, betraying the vow you’d once made.

Twisting both hands beneath the desk, you let no trace of emotion cloud your features. Slipping into the lessons you learned in childhood proved astonishingly easy.

Observe, but don’t react. Deduce what others do, then adjust your behavior. Don’t reveal your intentions, but only show others what they wish to see.

The second man at the table seemed to exude a similar philosophy. Admittedly, he did it in much better clothing than yours. His suit was impeccable; double-breasted with a handkerchief pressed to its pocket as though it had been born there. Maybe it had been; maybe it was sewn into his suit, as firm as the stick shoved up his ass.

Your lips twitched as you suppressed a smile. The mahogany-haired man seemed to notice this, inclining his head in a manner which dared you to smile again.

Meeting his gaze, you did. “I see,” you said, returning to the first man.

Already, you had the two of them pegged.

The first man was their marketer, a transition man designed to make you feel comfortable with the lifestyle change. The second was present to ensure you didn’t get too comfortable. This was a classic good cop, bad cop strategy.

Truthfully, you needed none of it. Their organization was your only option and if you failed, it was more than your worthless life on the line. The thought made your stomach twist unpleasantly.

Unbeknownst to them, you harbored a secret. This was the reason you couldn’t relax, couldn’t let your guard down for even a second. You were in an organization of spies, no matter what they chose to call themselves, and you were here to spy on them.

This wasn’t the first time you’d been approached by their kind. Before though, you had always rejected their offer.

Your parents’ lifestyle had never been of interest, no matter the price or the handsome men in suits sent to woo you. For yes, the second man was handsome, this was undeniable. The mahogany-haired man had a high forehead, sloped nose and soft-looking lips. On anyone else, these features might have been an eclectic combination but on him, they were beautiful.

Instead of looking his way though, you focused on the first. The marketer.

“What would my training entail?” you asked, as though this was what gave you pause.

The man nodded, like he truly cared about your worries. You could tell by the way he shifted, the way his feet pointed towards the door, the man was already thinking about being somewhere else. Talking to you was only one stop in his insurmountable day.

He needed to interrogate the recruit, eat his lunch, attack a mountain of paperwork, yell at a few subordinates, drink three Jameson and cokes at the bar and have sloppy sex with Sharon before passing out in his bed. Shower, rinse, repeat.

You hated to keep him from all he had to do.

“Well.” The marketer shuffled his paperwork and barely did you keep the smile from your face. You’d noticed upon entering the majority of it was blank. “The usual. You’ll be tested physically, mentally and in practical application. We’ll assess your current abilities, identify any gaps and then assign you a specialty.”

“Specialty?”

He nodded. “Technology, weapons, information gathering, etc. We’ll tailor your coursework to your specialty, according to whatever use we might have for you.”

Hearing this, your lips thinned.

“I mean,” the man hastily said. “What areas we have which might suit you best.”

He didn’t mean it. You knew the moment you joined this organization, you would belong to them in every sense of the word. They wouldn’t care about your interests or wants.

As though the man’s words were placating, you nodded. “And who is this?” you asked, looking at his silent partner.

The marketer tensed. “I – er, Hoseok,” he said.

No additional information was offered and you arched a brow. “Pleasure to meet you, Hoseok,” you said, scanning him quickly. “I see you fit the strong and silent stereotype.”

Much to your disappointment, he failed to take the bait. Instead, Hoseok lifted his chin. “Why are you here?”

��Hoseok!” The first man’s eyes widened. Some of the color drained from his cheeks; Hoseok had just made his job even harder. “I’m sorry, ma’am. Hoseok can be blunt. A field operative, you know how they can be –”

Cutting him off, you said, “Why am I here on Earth, or in this room?”

The marketer shut up.

Hoseok did not flinch. “I’ll take either answer, if you have them.”

“To survive as long as I can. As to why I’m in this room....” You trailed off, then waved a hand. “I assume you’re referring to the fact that I’ve declined your invitation to join this organization several times?”

“The way I see it, we’ve extended you offers before.” Leaning forward, his elbows slid forward on the table. “My superiors see you as an asset.” Hoseok paused, as though to emphasize how little he agreed. “Each time you’ve turned us down. Why would you accept now? What’s changed?”

His sunglasses hid his gaze, which you found annoying. Intention was difficult to hide in the eyes. Hoseok pushed himself to sit more casually, one arm draped over the back of his chair and ones leg crossed over the other. Despite his relaxed posture, his muscles were tense, as though ready to pounce.

“What’s changed,” you said, since this was a loaded question. “Nothing, I guess. The end of a life I once knew.”

Hoseok didn’t flinch. “You mean, the death of your parents.”

If he was trying to bait you, you didn’t take it.

“Yes, that.”

With a sigh, Hoseok removed his sunglasses. Without them, his face made your eyes widen. Truly, he was gorgeous – which made you wary. He wore his beauty like a knife, revealed only when needed to cut down those in his way. Hoseok’s gaze was lidded, searching as though he could carve the truth from your lies.

He could look all he wanted; you would not cave.

“Why would that change things?” Hoseok’s gaze across your face. “Based on our intelligence, you’ve had little to do with your parents for the past five years.”

Be like stone, you told yourself.

Stone could not break unless there were cracks in its foundation. You were solid, unyielding. Shifting on the uncomfortable leather seat, you lazily crossed one leg over the other.

It satisfied you when Hoseok’s gaze darted ever so briefly to your legs.

“That’s true,” you agreed. “I hadn’t spoken to my parents in years before last week.”

Shutting your mouth, you swallowed. It was partly untrue and partly real, which tended to be the best type of lies.

While you took a moment to gather yourself, you also examined the brass buttons Hoseok wore. They were brass, yet hung with a weight similar to gold. It meant they were not average fasteners. Surveillance equipment, most likely.

Emboldened, you slowly uncrossed and recrossed your legs. You’d worn a dress to this interview on purpose. Hoseok’s cheeks flushed as you attempted to hide your smile. It seemed the feed from his buttons went straight to his contact lenses.

“My parents’ death was unexpected,” you said, refocusing. “As you so astutely mentioned, I never cared for their lifestyle. Their death, though… it changes things.”

For a moment, you found yourself truly at a loss. You glanced down to collect yourself, and actually did. The marketer nodded, as though in sympathy but Hoseok remained silent, unconvinced. It made you trust him more than the first.

“How did their deaths change you?” he asked, blunt.

You inhaled, images flashing again through your mind. You hadn’t let yourself think much of the day. The memory of your mother collapsed in the hall, shot dead the second she opened the door. The sight of your father slumped in the kitchen, a look of pure astonishment and confusion on his face. The bloodied note taped to their fridge, scrawled for you to find after the killer texted from your father’s phone.

It shouldn’t have been that way. Your parents were mediocre criminals at best. They shouldn’t have been killed in such a thoughtful, uncompromising manner. The bullet wounds in their bodies had been precise, placed in such a way you couldn’t doubt their marksmanship.

No. Whoever ordered their deaths wasn’t the sort of person your parents usually dealt with – and yet, your family hadn’t seemed surprised by their attack. Your mother had opened the door for her assassin, for fuck’s sake.

Exhaling, you looked up from the table. “I’ve hidden who I am my entire life,” you said. “I’ve run from the law, from my parents, and everyone in between. Now, though...” You felt your hands clench. “I don’t want to run. I want to be useful in the only way I know how.”

Hoseok tilted his head and considered.

What you said was mostly true, but it also masked a lie. The final piece of the puzzle was your sister, whom you’d purposefully left out of the equation. The same madmen who’d murdered your parents had stolen one more thing. Your sister.

This was the final line of the note you had found. Short and specific instructions: do as the men said, or your sister would die.

The first task you’d been given was to infiltrate this organization and so, here you were. Ready to lie, cheat and borrow just to force your way in.

Fingernails digging into your palms, you fought to keep your expression neutral. You needed them to believe you, you needed to be let in because if they cast you out, your sister was dead.

Finally, Hoseok nodded. The gesture was curt, without sympathy to his gaze.

“Alright,” he said, glancing at his companion. “Feel free to draw up the paperwork. I approve.”

Hoseok stood and deftly removed his blazer. Shaking this out, he placed this on his chair and began to undo his buttons.

You stared. “This hardly seems the time for a costume change.”

Barely sparing a glance, Hoseok continued turning his shirt inside out. As he re-buttoned his collar, tucked the ends into his jeans and replaced his sunglasses with glasses, you could only stare. The transformation was instantaneous – international businessman to local IT worker.

Hoseok looked your way. “You’re not my only appointment today, Y/N.”

Before you could respond to this, the first man interrupted. “Right,” he said, fingers fumbling empty papers before him. “I’ll get you started, Y/N. You’ll go through a preliminary training assessment and then we’ll see, okay?”

He smiled brightly despite your clear lack of enthusiasm.

When you finally nodded, Hoseok reached for his phone and you took the time to examine him. The man was far too competent to be stuck in an office, like the marketer. It seemed Hoseok was the intelligence operative and yet, he didn’t act much like those in the field you were used to. He wasn’t crass, not at all overbearing and he seemed not to carry any visible weaponry.

Every move of his was smooth, polished and designed to blend in. This man was a professional and for the briefest of moments, you panicked. It was this type of man you needed to fool for your sister to live. You needed to be a better spy than the best of the best.

Fervently, you hoped the entire organization wasn’t as competent as Hoseok.

Standing, the marketer shoved reams of paper into his bag. As he moved towards the door, you made to follow, only for Hoseok to place a hand on your arm.

“A moment,” he said, as though he had all the time in the world.

Although your feet stopped, you kept your gaze on the door. “I thought you had another appointment.”

Hoseok chuckled. “Dominic, please leave us.”

You watched the other man, and to your surprise, he nodded and swiftly left the room. The door fell shut, leaving the two of you alone beneath fluorescent lights.

Warily, you turned to face Hoseok.

He stared back, his gaze shrewd and calculating. “I still don’t trust you,” he said, letting go of your arm.

“Bully for you,” you said. “I didn’t ask.”

“You did, though. The moment you walked through the door. Am I wrong?”

He wasn’t wrong. The fact you responded to their invitation after all these years meant you wanted him to accept. His ego seemed large enough for the both of you though, and so you stayed silent.

His eyes gleamed. “I’ll take that as a no.”

Unable to stop yourself, you snapped, “I agree. I agree you shouldn’t trust me. Trust goes both ways, though and I still have no idea why I should trust you. Why I should bring my skills to your organization over any other.”

“A valid point,” Hoseok allowed. “If somewhat juvenile. What do you wish to know about me?”

Thrown by his statement, you could only blink. “I – how long have you been a part of this organization?”

“Since I was six.” Hoseok spoke smoothly, as though the question no longer fazed him. “My turn. What are you hiding?”

“Many things. None pertinent to this conversation, though.”

“Spoken like a spy.” Hoseok glanced at his watch. “You’ll find, Y/N, that you are out of your league here. No matter what rudimentary skills your parents taught you, they won’t be enough, and eventually you’ll find yourself behind.”

You bristled, but Hoseok didn’t seem to notice.

Stepping closer, his lips hovered inches away from your ear. “I anticipate you’ll leave within the first month,” he murmured.

Glancing down, you realized why Hoseok had removed his blazer. Whomever had been listening to his mic wouldn’t be able to hear this.

“You’ll fail because either your anger will burn out and you’ll cease to remember why you came here in the first place, or because you’ll fail. Or,” he added, gaze meeting yours. “There is a third, even worse option.”

"Which is?”

Hoseok paused. “The option that whatever drove you to accept is far more sinister than my colleagues imagine.” His gaze became steely. “Trust me, Y/N, if this turns out to be the case, you’ll dearly wish you’d never set foot through those doors. I’ll draw up the paperwork to kill you myself.”

Something about the way he spoke made your blood boil.

“You do that,” you said , stepping closer. “You keep worrying about me and whatever my ass is doing, and I’ll just worry about proving you wrong. Yes? Until then, stay the hell out of my way.”

Hoseok smirked. Turning around, he bent and picked up his blazer. “I’m afraid that won’t be possible,” he said, folding it over his arm.

“And why not?” you demanded as he walked away.

He paused with one hand on the handle. “Didn’t they tell you?” Hoseok asked, glancing over his shoulder. “Didn’t they explain why I was part of your interview panel?”

Mutely, you shook your head no. A not unpleasant chill traveled down your spine.

Hoseok smiled and for the first time, it seemed real. “It’s because I’m your partner.” He pulled open the door, warmer light flooding in from the hall. “Good luck with your evaluation. I’ll see you soon, Y/N.”

With that, he stepped out and your stomach sank to the ground.

↳ part of my AU drabble game

#hoseok writing #bts writing #bts fanfic #hoseok fanfic #hoseok au #hoseok spy au #bts spy au #hoseok drabble #bts drabble

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diabolikmosquito · 4 years

Text

Just-Watched Thoughts on S3

Alright time to write this while I’m still here recovering so I can go to bed already. I might add more/clean this up once I get some proper sleep. Tagging it but putting Castlevania Season 3 spoilers under a cut just in case people haven’t got tags hidden and such. Here goes-

Overall I’m honestly just kinda shocked? I think it’s because a lot of things were easy to predict (that the cult might be trying to bring back Dracula, something was up with the Judge, Hector was obviously gonna fall for Lenore’s bs, etc.) so when things happened I didn’t see from a mile away..

When I was only like an episode or two in, things actually felt a little stunted to me? Something about it felt like “This is what people liked from before, right??” particularly with certain action or such, but I feel like it picked up pretty quickly from that. I’m still kinda in winding-down-emotions mode so I can’t really definitively say what storylines I liked and which ones I disliked for the most part. I liked Isaac’s, and the design of the... Hivemind Magician? Was all pretty sick. It felt like the first thing that was actually a massive challenge for him, and nearly overtook him, but he overcame it and even came out of it thinking through what he wanted for the future. It’s a nice change from seeing him steamroll anything that came his way.

I like that Trevor and Sypha’s storyline ends up with them not getting their heroic grand time like they did last time. Yes, there were sacrifices made, but before it still felt grandiose: they’d worked together to kill Dracula, something the world didn’t even think possible for the most part. This time, they sacrificed a lot more and ultimately didn’t win a thing other than their own lives, and were helping a hidden monster in their process of killing other monsters. What a crushing thing for them to have to go through, and I think Trevor’s conversation with himself before (and later with said monster, ironically enough) about missing parts of his old non-heroic non-adventuring life was pretty somber and interesting.

The whole Lenore/Hector route was exactly what’s expected from the beginning, but it was done well for what it was, and I don’t think they were trying to fool anyone with the direction it was headed. Carmilla’s plot was.. eh, more or less not much seemed to actually happen, but it did introduce us to the awesome vampire sisters so I’m more than down with it. I wish we got a little more about Saint Germain’s whole deal with that portal and such, who he was looking for and how he knows they’re still alive in there, but I assume that’s a next-season kind of thing. I’m gonna ramble if I write anymore so here’s a more concise/clear list:

Things I liked - Trevor and Sypha’s chemistry! I thought it was good the first couple seasons (which apparently puts me in the minority?) but they felt much more compatible as a couple this time around. The little exchange about the “taste for rougher things in life” is wonderful, and I definitely snorted when she sleep-bapped him in the face. - The tidbits of funny dialogue! Seems to still be a show specialty. Some of them were understandably a bit funny (using “Nope! speedwalks away” in place of “shut it” is pretty good), and others weren’t funny but I just found it hilarious (e.g. Morana’s repeated fancily-stated things that boiled down to “... Lenore, seriously, TMI”) - The soundtrack! Not really any surprise, despite it not being the famous Symphony of the Night tracks people clamored for trust me I totally get that and despite it still not being released even from season 2 much less 3, it was very nice to listen to. - The vampire sisters! While it was obvious from the beginning Lenore was the “cutest/nonthreateningest-looking of the scary bunch but actually the scariest” one I liked the energy they all had, especially Striga and Morana and their relationship. I liked that we got to see Carmilla’s attitude bouncing off of other vampires who (while respecting her skill) also called her out for it from time to time. - The references! I’m sure there’s more and I’m a dumbass who only spots the obvious ones, but... the fact there’s demons that’re exactly ones out of the ol’ Symphony of the Night game again, like the Malachi and Fire Demon. It’s so dumb but I love shit like that, especially since they obviously stray far from the game canon and don’t have to do that but do it anyway. - Some of the action scenes. I cannot mention what I like without mentioning the parts that made me go “... Okay, yeah, that was badass.” You know the ones! When Cho busted that sword with her hands, when Sypha chopped that angel-like demon into pieces. ... A lot of the stuff Sypha did, actually, I’m glad she got some more epic moments to kick ass this season. I thought the earlier action scenes of the season were just alright, but by the last fight it was definitely starting to feel like that awesome dynamic fight style we saw in season 2. - The fact Dracula saw an opportunity to return and didn’t want to. Not much to say here other than the obvious - I feel like that’s extremely fitting, and I’m glad they made it clear without bringing him back and having him be angry/regret it or something like that. Without any dialogue, even. - The ending.. somewhat. It destroyed me a little on the inside, but I actually like that nobody really had a happy ending. Particularly if there could be another season, it feels really fitting. I’ve seen some people complaining “They ended up where they started! Trevor and Sypha are back on the road, Isaac’s traveling with his army, Alucard’s alone in the castle and Hector is a slave” but I couldn’t disagree more. Of course if you boil it down to the words themselves, it’s “the same,” but did ya see the sheer trauma literally everyone was put through? Obviously some had it worse than others (and we’ll fucking get to that) but nobody came out unscathed. Everyone’s now had some belief challenged or retreated further into a fear/mistrust that already existed - previous events planted the seed for it and the hell the cast went through gave it growth.

Trevor and Sypha are going to have to challenge their goal they’d been following since working together/getting together: they can’t just go headlong adventuring and fixing people’s problems, because things like this can happen. Their new allies and the entire town were slaughtered or trapped somewhere, and the man they’d trusted and been helping this entire time was a serial killer, particularly of children. Alucard is drifting into a state of consciousness not unlike his father before he met Lisa, but potentially in a worse place since he’s witnessed and felt true kindness, but has retreated away from it even so due to the betrayal he’s suffered at an already-fragile time for him. Isaac has to reconsider what he’s going to do once he has his proper army, and even if it’s worth it to get his revenge or to carry out Dracula’s original plans. Saint Germain.. I mean, he’s in psychodelic hell searching for that person and presumably a way out, I assume it’s tragic. Hector’s learned a hard lesson in trusting and is going to have to figure out if his freedom is worth risking pain or death. Likewise I think the characters grow this way. Even if it was a happy ending, or an ending where everyone “wins” some small victory somehow, I think it’d ultimately have been worthless if nobody was fundamentally changed by the end of the season.

Things I didn’t like - The sex scenes. I’ve seen a lot of people like “If you’re gonna put in gratuitous sex then actually include Trevor and Sypha??” and I’m gonna have to disagree with that. While I love the ship and all, I’d like to give the benefit of the doubt and say sex scenes weren’t thrown around randomly or just to flex the rating - they were only tied to actual story, hence why I’m down with the bedroom stuff of the show’s main ship only being alluded to. However, I gotta say that the long broken-up sex scenes mixed with battle/action was not the way to do that. I think I know what they were going for (it definitely drove my anxiety up having those scenes back to back with intense action/violence, I can tell ya that!), but it just wasn’t a good idea. Yes, they were obviously made to be uncomfortable (particularly since I’m pretty sure one of them was dubious consent at best?) but that was reflected well just in a few key frames/actions - it didn’t need to be drawn out and mixed with the action. It made me want to skip through (I didn’t out of fear I’d miss battles, which isn’t really good design) and I’d like to bet parts of the finale are unwatchable for some. For the record, yes you could say “well they got into an adult-rated show, deal with it,” but the fact of the matter is up until now sexual violence/discomfort wasn’t heavy-handed and in-your-face like this. Non-sexual violence was definitely all over the whole series, but it’s still a bit like whiplash considering. Also, the fact people think the scene with Alucard was at all chill. I see it from a story standpoint (though I honestly think their motivations were weak and there’s other ways to betray someone/get their guard down), but I think the people going on about “power bottom” and this and that are forgetting that the absence of a no is not a yes, particularly with someone severely emotionally damaged after spending months alone not only without a support group but without any contact, immediately following the death of his father by his own hands. I’m no expert but I don’t think that’s someone in the proper state of mind to consent to anything sexual, even if there were a couple weeks or whatever of spending time with these new friends. He very well might’ve been on the way to a stress disorder before they turned his world upside-down and frankly I’m wondering how he’s going to be faring come the next season (assuming there is one.) That’s more of a fandom gripe than the show itself I suppose but it’s worth a mention. - The pacing. It’s hard to pinpoint it, but something about it felt off, especially in the first half. The best way I can describe it is when you pump the gas and brakes because your brakes aren’t working great and you’re loosening them up - maybe it was necessary to get things going, but it’s a bit destabilizing/odd for anyone in the car. I think it’s what contributed to that stunted sense I got until things picked up a little more. You can see it more in just how packed with stuff the latter half is, some things which could’ve been planned a bit better through the whole season. - Sumi and Taka. I honestly felt that they wanted to get in a way to have a punch-in-the-gut arc with Alucard (not a bad idea, I am one for tragedy), wanted to kill off some characters who were actually important, and decided to do these both with one stone. I don’t think they were successful on the second part, because these two absolutely contributed to the stunted feeling I had about some of the season. They had a good start in terms of backstory, and the idea of two people working together to fight vampires without having some big legend tied to their name to drive it (e.g. Speaker magicians, Belmont legacy, Alucard’s heritage), as well as a connection to/fleshing out of one of the nameless generals, sounded like a great concept. A great concept, but it was rushed I felt, to the point that their motivations for turning on him were so packed and squished in they just weren’t believable if we’re supposed to believe these two were sane. They had some sort of mental/trust issues due to their backstory - that’s fine, and could contribute some emotional problems. However if their distrust in Alucard had been given more time to fester and grow, more little comments of Alucard’s brushing off their attempts to learn about specific things, and more cues from him that could be misinterpreted by them as him causing trouble and lying (not just them not believing him by itself), it would be more believable that the past and misinterpretations of the present get into their head and poison their thoughts of him. You can plant a seed of doubt but just like any other character bonds, it has to be given time to grow. Alucard’s rapid bonding with them could be attributed to his loneliness, trauma, and need for a support system, but you can’t make that excuse for Sumi and Taka’s motivations going from “Hm.. I wonder what he isn’t telling us” to “We need to emotionally gut him and then kill him” basically overnight. Edit:

I forgot to add a conclusion last night, so I guess the TL;DR is season 3’s a good 7.5/10 for me, -1 for the overall pacing, -1 for missing a bit of the punch from before, and -0.5 because the last few episodes jumped me with a bat and I let it happen.

#i'm probably gonna regret this tomorrow but here are my just-got-gutted-by-that-season thoughts #castlevania #season 3 spoilers #castlevania season 3 #ooc #tw dubcon #tw violence

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