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euovennia · 1 year

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widow CH. III

pairing: soap x fem!reader

a/n: full disclosure: this chapter may feel a bit half baked in comparison to the others (in my mind at least) but rest assured, the next one will be more mission based and i've already got a ton of ideas bouncing around for that so stay tuned!! (also thank you so much for 550+ followers, you guys are spoiling me i swear)

friendly reminder that this work is written with a fem!reader in mind, but with no specified features

PROLOGUE, CH. I, CH.II, CH. IV

The lights of the conference room are turned off and the blinds shut as Laswell flicks the projector on. The group is silent as they come face to face with the image of a man appearing to be somewhere in his early fifties holding a phone up to his ear as he gets into a black car. His lips are turned downward in a frown and despite the graininess of the image, it's clear that his eyes are filled with something eerie. Something sinister.

“This is Ivan Volkov. He’s been a person of interest for the CIA for over fifteen years.”

The man with the mohawk speaks, “Why’s that?”

“Volkov has been suspected of various crimes over the years, but the most prevalent among them all is his…creativity when it comes to human trafficking.”

Laswell switches the slide from the picture of Volkov to one that showcases the infamous hourglass symbol accompanied by various faces of little girls surrounding it.

“The main reason the CIA has had their eye on Volkov for so long is because of his practice of taking young girls, often through force, and putting them through rigorous training program so they can join his own personal team of workers, namely assassins. He calls it the Red Room.”

Union Jack cap cuts in, “And why hasn't he been taken in already?”

Laswell sighs, “Because no one could prove that he was actually doing such things so we just had to sit by and do nothing except wait for him to slip up. Unfortunately that never happened, at least not directly.”

Laswell nods her head in the direction of Shadow.

“Four years ago, Shadow was able to confirm the existence of the Red Room. Since then, she's been gathering intel on Volkov in order to pinpoint the exact location of the Red Room as well as mass pick up points for the girls he keeps hidden away until he can put them into the Red Room.”

Mohawk decides to speak up once more, “If Volkov’s gone and kidnapped them, why are they so keen on working for the lad?”

“We can't say for sure, but I think it's safe to assume the reason these girls are taken so young is because their brains are still developing. At that stage, it’d be rather easy for him to get in and manipulate them into doing his dirty work for him.”

Not wanting to stay on the topic of what Volkov did to these girls, what he did to her, Shadow decides to interject.

“So what’s your plan to catch him? I’m assuming that’s why you’ve rounded us all up here.”

As soon as the words leave her mouth, everyone in the room turns their attention to her. The three unfamiliar men each showcasing varying degrees of surprise while Price and Laswell both seem to be caught off guard by the woman’s voice unexpectedly cutting through the conversation. Deciding not to vocalize the collective wave of shock rolling through the small room, Laswell simply nods.

“Yes, you’d be correct.”

Wanting to redirect the boys’ attention off Shadow, he speaks up.

“What’ve you got for us then?”

“You’ll first be flown into the heart of Moscow and dropped off at a base there before meeting up with a few contacts of mine based in Russia. They’ll drop you off ten klicks north of a village by the name of Samat where a close contact of Volkov’s resides; Sergei Magerovski. He, unfortunately, won’t be there the night you arrive so you’ll have to stay in a safe house just outside of the village. Once he arrives however, your job will be to apprehend him and get him to reveal the location of the Red Room. From there, Shadow will get in contact with me and we’ll plan accordingly.”

Price sighs as he gives Laswell a skeptical look, “That’s the plan? Seems half baked to me.”

Laswell shrugs as she leans back in her chair, “Out of all the enemies we’ve faced, Volkov is by the far the most elusive and secretive. It took hours just to find anything about Magerovski’s existence. Call him what you want, but he’s a smart man. He knows how to hide.”

Price spares a glance over to Shadow who gives him a near hesitant nod of her head before turning back to Laswell.

“Alright then. When do we leave?”

Laswell smiles, “Tonight.”

After the rather short meeting with Laswell had ended, Shadow was the first one out the door. While it wasn’t her intention to come off as rude to the rest of the team, she knew that’s what it probably looked like. So much for being a team player.

Even so, she refused to dwell on the small interaction and instead decided to start getting her gear together for the upcoming mission thinking it would take a while. Unfortunately she managed to gather everything she needed rather quickly, even with all of the extra bulk she’d be carrying around. While she greatly preferred to keep the amount of gear she took with her on missions minimal, she knew she’d need to carry a bit more than what she was used to. Not only to keep up with what was sure to be a hellish force of Volkov’s army of assassins, but also her new teammates for the time being.

What a strange word, she thought, teammates.

She continued to mull over the single word throughout the rest of her day. Even now as she sat in the back of the plane in one of the seats lined against the walls, bag neatly tucked under her seat as her fingers tap against her thigh in time with the piano notes of Beethoven’s ‘Moonlight Sonata’.

Upon hearing footsteps approach her, she switches her music player off and rips out her earbud before turning her attention to the origin of the noise where she's pleasantly surprised to see Price approaching her with two cups of pudding in his hands. She wraps her headphone cable around the music player as she speaks.

“Why do you have pudding?”

Price sits beside her and holds one out to her before replying, “It’s Friday.”

The woman catches in quickly as she takes the cup of pudding from his outstretched hand.

“Our dessert day.”

Price gives her a nod of confirmation before pulling out two spoons from his pocket and sticking one in her cup. She mumbles out a small ‘thank you’ before they begin eating.

Surprisingly, Shadow is the first to speak.

“How do you feel about the mission?”

Price gulps down his spoonful of vanilla pudding before responding.

“Wish it was a bit more well laid out, but what can you do? The bloke is a dodgy little twit. What about you?”

The woman plops her spoon in the remaining bit of her strawberry pudding as she takes a few moments to think. On one hand she was more than happy to be going after Volkov, but on the other hand, she couldn't help but feel like something awful was going to happen.

“I’m not sure. I suppose I’m feeling a mix of things.”

“Understandable, but you've gotta feel the least bit proud of yourself, no? You've been tracking this arsehole for the better part of four years now. Must be nice to have the go head to finally get after him.”

She sighs, “It is, but I have a bad feeling. Something doesn't feel right.”

Price gulps down the last bite of his pudding, “You sure that feeling doesn't have anything to do with the fact you’re working with a team for once?”

She takes in another gulp of her pudding, “Pretty sure. It feels different.”

Price bites down on his lip before turning to her and resting a reassuring hand on her shoulder, a small wave of pride flooding his chest when he notices she doesn't flinch at his touch like she used to.

“You know well enough by now to know I can't tell you everything’s gonna go right, kid.”

Her lips purse in thought.

“But,” He gently turns her head to face him, “I can promise you that my men and I will be there with you every step of the way. You’re part of the team now, even if it is just for this mission.”

He pulls his hands away from her and leans back against the seat before she decides to speak.

“Thank you, Price…I appreciate that.”

He waves her off.

“No need for all that. Just do me a favor and start calling me Captain Price. At least when we're around the others. Higher rank and all that.”

She’s quiet for a few moments.

“Technically I don't have a rank.”

Price jokingly rolls his eyes at her comment.

“Fuckin’ mercies,” He mutters.

“Mercies?”

“Mercenaries. That's what my old Captain used to call ‘em. Suppose I took after him.”

She nods as she finishes off the last of her pudding.

“You've still gotta refer to me as Captain Price, or even just Captain.”

This time she’s the one to roll her eyes as she crosses her arms with a small smile.

“Yeah, fine. I’ll entertain it.”

“I’m being serious, kid.”

“Mhm. Yeah, whatever you say Captain Price,” she replies in a mocking tone.

He shakes his head in mild disapproval. As much as he wants to scold her for not taking him as seriously as he’d like, he couldn't bring himself to do so. It was a rare sight to see her initiating conversation, much less take part of his playful teasing. He didn't have the heart to ruin it.

Just as she opened her mouth to say something, the sound of multiple pairs of boots padding across the metal flooring of the plane made its way to her ears. Both she and Price looked up to see the Soap, Gaz, and the tall man whose name she hadn't quite learned yet step onto the plane and set their bags of gear down under the seats they decided to occupy. She couldn't help but notice it was on the other end of where she’d settled down. Not that she minded, she didn’t want to talk to them before it was necessary.

Price looks down at his watch.

“Looks like we’ll be taking off in just a few minutes. You want to come sit with the guys over there? I’ve gotta make sure they don't start taking the piss.”

She stares at them for a few moments before eventually shaking her head.

“No, I think I’ll try to get some sleep.”

Price narrows his eyes in suspicion at her answer, but decides not to push it any farther as he gets up.

“I’ll let you play the lone wolf for just a bit longer, but no more after this. You’ve got to start talking to them, build a rapport. They're not bad once you get to know them.”

She looks them over once more before turning her attention back to Price.

“The safe house. I’ll start there, I promise”

He points a finger her way with a stern expression, “‘M gonna hold ya to that.”

She gives him a small nod before he gives her a small pat on the shoulder and walks off to sit with the group of men. She watches them for a few moments longer before leaning her head back against the stiff seat and closing her eyes, willing the plane to take off sooner than later.

It had been a little under fifteen minutes after Price had decided to go over and sit with the boys, and the plane was now soaring through the air as a calm and quiet chatter filled the atmosphere around the small group. The moment could almost be seen as relaxing if you chose to ignore the reason why they were even on the plane in the first place, but of course, Soap decided to open his mouth.

“Hey Cap, I’ve got a question for ya.”

Price knew deep down he probably wouldn’t care for whatever inquiry Soap was prepared to spill from his mouth, but he allowed it anyway.

“What is it?”

Soap pointed a finger over where Shadow was sitting with her eyes closed and head leaned back.

“You know ‘er?”

Price couldn’t even bring himself to act surprised. He’d been expecting this question, but even so, it was Soap asking so he couldn’t help but delay his response just a tad.

“What makes you say that?”

Soap shrugs as he leans back in his seat and crosses his ankles over one another, “You two were eating pudding together before you ran off over here when we showed up. Just thought you might have history.”

Price doesn’t respond, causing Gaz to speak up.

“She your girlfriend, Captain?”

The boys watch Price’s face begins to grow considerably pale at the question as he seems to stumble over his words for a moment as he tries to respond.

“What? No, I–”

He lets out a deep sigh as he tries to compose himself.

“–No, She is not my girlfriend and nor will she ever.”

A beat of silence passes over the group of four before Soap speaks, a smug smile stretched on his face as he nudges Gaz with his shoulder.

“Bit defensive there, eh?”

Gaz and Soap attempt to stifle their laughter as Price seems to grow increasingly more flustered at their insinuations. While finding the teasing of the younger members mildly amusing, Ghost decides to take this moment to ask a question of his own.

“Well then what do you know about her?”

Gaz and Soap quiet down as the stern voice of their shared lieutenant cuts through the air. They both turn their attention back to Price who seems to be equal parts thankful and exasperated by Ghost’s question. He clears his throat before leaning back in his seat, one hand clasped tightly around the spare pen he grabbed from one of the pockets sewn onto his tactical vest.

“What’s got you lot so curious?”

“Never received a file on her, as good as a stranger,” Ghost replies as he crosses his arms over his broad chest.

Price spares a glance toward the topic of discussion out of the corner of his eye before settling it back on his team.

“She’s experienced and capable. Not to mention the most knowledgeable about Volkov out of any of us. She’ll be an asset to this team,” He says simply.

Ghost narrows his eyes, “You’re not telling us everything, are you?”

Price shrugs, “I’m tellin’ you the things that matter. You wanna learn more about her?” He points in her direction, “Then you can ask her yourself,” He finishes with a tone of finality, effectively ending the discussion.

Gaz and Soap hang their heads low in slight disappointment at Price’s answer before quickly moving onto another topic of discussion while Ghost keeps his eyes locked on the woman. It’s only after he receives a small kick from Price that he tears his gaze away from her. He always did have a staring problem.

“Yer aff yer heid.”

“English, MacTavish.”

“Use your fuckin’ context clues, L.T.”

“You little shite-” Price stops in his tracks and turns his body around to face the two men with a glare.

“I’m gonna give you two a proper beating if you don’t shut up.”

Soap’s eyes widen as he jerks a finger toward Ghost, “He started it!” “I don’t care who started it. My only concern is finding this safe house and getting you lot out of my hair for a moment,” He practically seethes, his patience for the two bickering men having diminished long ago. He opens his mouth to continue his rant, but is stopped by three gentle taps on his shoulder. He whips his head toward the origin of the touch to reveal Gaz pointing toward Shadow who was currently staring at the group from the porch of what seemed to be a cabin off in the distance.

“I found the safe house,” Soap states.

Price spares him another glance as he narrows his eyes, “You’re on thin ice, Sergeant.”

Not wanting to spend another moment outside, he stalks off in the direction of Shadow with Gaz quietly trailing by his side. As the silhouette of his captain and other sergeant grow smaller with the distance, Ghost nudges Soap.

“Come on then.”

Not wanting to open up another pointless argument, Soap decides to quietly follow after Ghost. As they approach the safe house, they’re able to take in the overall structure of the building. It was a quaint little cabin, almost homely if it weren’t for the overgrown weeds and boarded up windows. After shutting the door shut behind them, they found it was pretty much what they’d expected. Various pieces of furniture scattered across the scraped hardwood floors as well as small bits of peeling paint falling from the walls. Even so, it still wasn’t quite as bad as other safe houses they’d been in. At least this one felt somewhat like a home still.

After the group did a quick sweep through of the house, Price immediately retired himself to the one bedroom that was present in the house, stating he needed time away from the group. Not bothering to wait for a proper response, he walked away with his arrival to the bedroom only being marked by the sound of the door closing shut.

Deciding that she didn’t want to spend any more time standing around, Shadow walked over to a corner of the living room that seemed cleanest and plopped her bag down on the floor before taking a seat next to it. She stretched her legs out in front of her before leaning her upper body against the wall. She blissfully blocked out the sounds of her teammates shuffling around the room as she pulled her bag onto her lap and unzipped the side compartment. She rummaged through the small pocket in hopes of finding the small packet of plain crackers she’d stashed away on base. After more than a few moments of fruitless rummaging, she let out a small sigh. Wanting to give herself one last chance, she reached in the deep crevices of the compartment and ran her fingertips along the edges of it, her hand coming to a stop upon the unfamiliar feeling of a glossy paper like object. Curiously, she grabs onto it with her thumb and forefinger before pulling it out and resting it in the palm of her hand. As she looks down at her hand, her eyes come into contact with a small wallet sized photograph of a younger version of herself, a wide smile stretched onto her face and a Santa hat messily placed onto her head as her arm is thrown over the shoulder of a familiar face; Karina.

Two young girls wait patiently as they watch multiple women clad in plain clothing put the finishing touches on the set that lies before them. The taller of the two young girls is given a small nudge on the shoulder by the girl beside her. She ignores the gesture in order to prevent drawing any unnecessary attention to the pair, but eventually gives into the urge to speak as the nudges of the smaller girls grow stronger causing her to stumble ever so slightly.

“Stop it, Karina,” She hisses out quietly.

She can see the corner of her friend’s lips turn upward in a small smirk.

“I’m bored.”

“No one here cares if you’re bored.”

She gets another nudge in return, although this one is more gentle.

“You do.”

The older of the two has to stop the sigh that threatens to spill from her lips. It was true after all, she did care.

“What do you want me to do about it? Not like there’s any games around.”

Karina points a small finger in the direction of the board games lining a nearby bookshelf as she whispers excitedly, “Those are games!”

“Those are empty and you know that. It’s just for show.”

“But what if they’re not? Have you ever held one of them?”

The older girl goes silent at the question. She never had the opportunity.

“See! There could be games in there,” Karina states, a smug lilt to her voice that didn’t please the older girl one bit.

“Even then, we’ll never get the chance to see. Not with them around,” She says as she gives a subtle nod over to the various workers walking around the place.

Karina sighs, “I guess that’s true…What do you think it’s like? Playing a game?”

“I don’t know. It could be fun.”

“I wish we could have fun.”

The older of the two goes to speak but promptly closes her mouth as the pair is approached by one of the women who speaks to them in fluent Russian paired with a near impeccable accent.

“We are ready for you. Come.”

The two girls spare each other a glance before trailing after the woman, eventually coming to a stop in front of a neatly decorated Christmas tree that was situated just a few feet from a red brick fireplace adorned with a festive garland and plain red stockings.

Just as they had each taken in the colorful decorations, the woman they had come to know as Madame Sotskova began spilling firm instructions to the girls who immediately obeyed without question.

Soon enough, the two girls were sat on the carpeted floor with wide smiles as they tore the wrapping paper off the various presents that were stacked around them. It was an exhilarating feeling for each of them being able to open the presents and get a glimpse of the toys they uncovered, even being able to grab and hold onto them. It could’ve even been considered fun if it weren’t for the bright flash that nearly blinded them every so often, a flash that reminded them both the nature of what was really happening.

After sitting and unwrapping the various presents for over twenty minutes, the gifts were promptly taken away to be rewrapped as Madame Sotskova walked over and began spewing out different instructions just as she had before. This time, the two girls were pressed up against each other with the older of the two now wearing a Santa hat that Karina had haphazardly situated on her head. The older girl had since thrown an arm around Karina’s shoulder, effectively pulling her closer to her side at the firm direction of Madame Sotskova. Wide smiles stretched onto their faces as the bright flash of the camera began lighting up the room. They remained in that position for a few minutes before they were pulled apart by two other workers they didn’t recognize. They watched with bated breath as Madame Sotskova inspected the photos that had come from the polaroid. After giving a small nod of approval, the two girls were roughly pulled up onto their feet with the Santa hat being ripped off the older girl's head. They spared each other a small glance out the corner of their eyes before taking in a deep breath and moving their gaze to stare directly in front of them. They each resisted the urge to reach out and grab onto the other's hand as they felt a small prick on the side of their neck.

It was a scary feeling to have such an intense wave of tiredness and nausea flood your body at such a fast speed, but they remained expressionless. Even as the taunting voice of Madame Sotskova rang through their ears as their vision became a hazy mess of different lights and colors.

“Sweet dreams.”

Taking in one final breath, they both fell back into the arms of the workers as they silently prayed it would all go away when they woke up. A bad dream. But like many times before, their hopes of waking up to a better life were ripped away as they opened their eyes and their gaze flickered over to their dominant hand being cuffed to the metal frame of their assigned bed.

This was reality.

Upon hearing the sound of footsteps quietly stalking toward her, Shadow tucked the photo back into the unzipped pocket and looked up to see the masked man stop a few feet away from her before settling down onto the floor. Her eyes roamed over the man’s frame before eventually settling on his eyes. He promptly returned her stare for a few moments before giving her a small nod of his head and looking away. Satisfied that the man wasn’t one to talk, she took her gaze off him and zipped up the open pocket in her bag before pushing it off her completely. She wasn’t really in the mood for crackers anymore.

The two of them sat in silence for a good while before it was eventually broken by the sound of the man rustling through his back. She looked back over to him to see him pulling out a set of black knives. She watched as he retrieved a small microfiber cloth from his pocket before dragging it over the body of the knife. In all honesty the knives already looked clean, near impeccable even, but when you’re cooped up in a room with virtually nothing to do, she supposed giving your knives a quick wipe down wasn’t the worst thing in the world.

They remained in the same position, the masked man cleaning his knives and her simply watching. It had gone from an eerie, almost uncomfortable quiet to one that was tolerable.

Jesus, she thought, I really hate working with teams.

Just as she began debating whether or not she should just walk out of the cabin, a Scottish accent rang out through the room.

“Hey, you two gonna come over or what?”

Shadow sucked in a sharp breath before looking up to see the man across from her already staring at her. He was the first to break eye contact as he packed his knives away and stood up. He walked a few steps over to the two men who were waiting patiently before coming to a sudden stop. He spared a glance over his shoulder back toward Shadow. Her eyes flickered from the man over to the two men who were still talking before her gaze eventually settled on the empty space they made. It was enough for two people. Holding in a small sigh, she pushed herself up from the floor and began walking behind skull face.

“Yer talking oot yer arse.”

“I’m serious!” “Give it up, mate.”

At the disbelieving words of Ghost and Soap, Gaz turned to Shadow in what seemed to be a moment of desperation.

“Come on, what about you? You’ve gotta believe me.”

It was the first time any of them had thought to include her in their ongoing conversation and she couldn’t help but feel almost relieved. She’s not much for talking sure, but any type of conversation beats the mindless game of acting like you’re interested. Besides, she did make that promise to Price. She lets out a quiet sigh.

“Bit far-fetched, but I can see it happening.”

The desperate plea etched onto his face morphs into one of glee as a smile spreads onto his face.

“See, I told you!”

Soap rolls his eyes, “You outdrinking someone like Price? Impossible.”

Gaz speaks in a tone of pure exasperation, “He’s not a heavy drinker, I told you that already!”

“And we’re just supposed to take yer word for it?”

Gaz goes to respond, but is cut off by Shadow.

“He likes being aware of his surroundings. Drinking takes that away, so he doesn’t do it often. Simple as that.” She half expected the three men to stare at her shock for her sudden desire to speak much like they had during the conference with Laswell, but they didn’t, much to her surprise. Instead, she was met with the narrowed gaze of the one they called Soap.

“How d’ya know that?”

She shrugs, “We’ve known each other a while.”

Gaz is next to speak, “How long’s a while?”

She really needs to learn how to shut her mouth.

“Long enough.”

“How ‘bout a time frame? Couple months, couple years?”

“Whichever one you think.”

Soap rolls his eyes, “Yer not gonna tell us anything then, eh?”

“No.”

“Why not?” Gaz all but whines.

“It’s irrelevant.”

Ghost’s gruff voice cuts through the air, “You expect us to trust someone we know nothing about?”

She turns her attention to him, “I don’t know anything about any of you either. The only reason I know your names is because I heard it in passing.”

Gaz takes his Union Jack cap off before speaking, “Then how about your job? It’s obvious you’re not a soldier,” He motions to her bodysuit, “So what are you? Is it some special unit?”

She shakes her head no.

“I’m whatever Laswell needs me to be.”

“So…What? You’ve got some type of specialized training for that?”

She looks at Soap, “You could say that.” Gaz sighs, “We’re not getting anything out of you, are we?”

“Nothing that’s not essential to the mission.”

“You’ve gotta give us something, woman. How about your name?”

She turns her focus back to Soap, “Shadow.”

He rolls his eyes, “I mean yer real name. You do have one of those, right?”

“I do, but it’s not essential to the mission and therefore you don’t need to know.”

Ghost narrows his eyes, “You C.I.A.?”

She huffs out a breath of air, “Not a chance.”

The three men surrounding her all spare each other a glance before turning their gaze back onto the woman before them. A few moments of silence pass over them before Soap speaks.

“You know, you’re like a mini ghost.” He ignored the blank stare his Lieutenant gave him before continuing with a smile.

“I think I’m gonna like havin’ ya around.”

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soulmate-game · 3 years

Note

Daughter of wonderwoman au where marinette finds out her mother is actually Diana and somehow it ends up with her meeting/being introduced to the batfam maybe because she has super strength and is seen yeeting some bad guys who tried to mug her... Or something.

“... you are running from your problems, Mari,” Adrien’s exasperated voice reminded his best friend. Again. She ignored him, and he threw his hands up in exasperation. “Look, you don’t have to do anything about it! Nobody would hold it against you if you decided to just, ignore that you found anything out at all. But you need to actually think about what we just found out and decide whether or not you’re gonna do anything—“ he side-stepped a piece of trash that went flying in his direction. “—or if you’re gonna move on and pretend nothing happened.”

“Isn’t that what I’m doing?” Marinette shot back, pushing her bangs out of her face and tying her hair back with one hand.

“No, you’re currently hiding away in Gotham to avoid your parents while you beat up every random group of idiots who thinks you’re an easy mark,” he retorted. Another wannabe kidnapper went flying in his direction, making him sigh and side step again. She had thrown that one with only her one free hand, showing just how upset she was. “You’re ignoring everything in your life, which is not what we meant we said you should get a little space.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Marinette dropkicked the last criminal into unconsciousness before stepping back and putting her hands on her hips. She looked over at the now seven passed out men in the alleyway, and the one very frustrated ex-model pinching the bride of his nose. “I think I’m coping just fine.”

“It’s better than being forced to suppress all of your emotions, sure,” Adrien reluctantly agreed. “But not by much. Your angry rampage through Gotham has already attracted more attention,” he raised his hand to point at a nearby rooftop. Several shadows lurked there, looming over the building’s edge. “Which, might I add, is exactly why I told you not to come to Gotham.”

“You’re the one who followed me here,” she shot back before turning to the shadowy figures above them. “Go ahead and come down! But it was self defense, and you can’t arrest or beat me up for defending myself!”

The first figure to drop down straightened your just as quickly, revealing the imposing figure of none other than Batman himself. The little white eyes on his cowl seemed to narrow on their own as he looked down at her.

“That might be true, but I’m sure you know my policy on metas in my city,” he grumbled back at her. He wasn’t necessarily threatening, but he definitely wasn’t welcoming either. With all of his limbs hidden behind the cocoon that was his cape, Marinette would never be able to predict his next move if he did decide to fight. Not that she seemed particularly worried about that as she crossed her arms over her chest and met his glare evenly.

“Oh, do you own this city now? I wasn’t given the memo,” she retorted. “And considering I didn’t even know I was a meta until last week? I think I deserve a little slack. I’m angry and if people think the tiny little girl in pink is an easy kidnapping target, then it’s their fault for making themselves into the perfect practice dummies for me to try out my newly discovered strength on.”

Adrien saw the eyes on Batman’s mask narrow even further. Marinette wasn’t exactly at her most charismatic at the moment, and Adrien didn’t wanna get the both of them into a bad relationship with the experienced superhero who always seemed to know things he shouldn’t know. So he stepped up quickly, getting in between Marinette and the Bat and holding his hands up in a placating gesture.

“Okay, Monsieur Batman,” Adrien started slowly, making sure his posture was impeccable and his smile bright. “She’s telling the truth, even if she’s not... the most tactful about it right now. She just found out some very concerning things about her origin and Gotham is the best place for her to hide from her problems and let loose a little pent up aggression. But— well,” he grimaced. “We didn’t intend to run into you guys, but maybe it’s a good thing we did.”

“How so?” Batman was clearly still incredibly suspicious of the both of them and wasn’t giving an inch. So Marinette rolled her eyes (she was still very moody) and leaned around Adrien so she could get a good look at the monochromatic hero.

“I thank my lucky spots that we ran into you, Batman!” She said monotonously. “Me and Adrien are paw-sitively excited at this opportunity.”

Batman. Froze.

Not only were those two lines the very first lines ever spoken to him by two foreign heroes a few years ago (with a few key words changed to protect identities), but they had become their code phrase for whenever they made calls to one another outside of their costumes. All at once it seemed to hit him— the golden hair and bright green eyes on the boy, the blue-black hair and normally super-focused bluebell eyes on the girl that were currently sporting very uncharacteristic frustration. Their heights. Their builds. All of this info flowed through his mind and compared to the information stored in his memory, and it only took the span of two seconds for everything to click.

Suddenly Batman was at full attention, back straight instead of looming over them and eyebrows clearly raised high under his cowl.

He knew Chat Noir and Ladybug would never take a random vacation to Gotham. Ladybug herself had nearly waxed poetic about how much the city depressed her just from the pictures she saw online. If she had willingly come to visit, it was more than to just blow off some steam.

“Batcave?” He asked, earning a relieved look from Adrien and a moody silence from Marinette.

“Please,” Adrien agreed. “You can probably help us, actually.”

—*—*—*—*—*

Marinette leaned back in the metal debriefing chair, legs up on the table and looking for all the world as the picture of pure teenage rebellion and angst. Coincidentally, Red Hood was in the exact same position in the chair next to her.

Batman and all of his other bats and birds were in the cave with the two off-duty Parisian heroes. Everyone except Adrien and Marinette still had their masks on, since the two Parisians were still not privy to their identities. Yet.

To be fair, the bats hadn’t known the identities of the two miraculous users either before today.

“Cha Noir,” Batman started, only to get a head shake from the blond boy.

“Just call me Adrien. Chat’s out of the bag—“ he ignored the groans at the pun and soldiered on, “—so might as well use my real name.”

Batman nodded. “Adrien, then,” he amended. “Why are you and Ladybug really in Gotham?”

Adrien sighed. “I wasn’t lying, before. Marinette,” he gestured to his hero partner. “Just found out some distressing family news. Since HawkMoth is gone, she doesn’t need to repress her negative emotions anymore. But she also didn’t want to be around her parents while she processed everything. I told her to choose any other city— really, I begged— but she insisted on coming to Gotham.”

“The never ending cloud cover and constant rain seem thematic,” she finally spoke up, reaching into her big over-the-shoulder bag and pulling out a large envelope. She threw it to Batman, making the thin package slice through the air like a knife. To nobody’s surprise the seasoned hero easily caught the projectile between two fingers. He looked at the envelope and back to Marinette, silent questions floating in the air between them. Marinette decided to answer at her own pace.

“That’s what we found out. You see, one of my friends is a huge science nerd. A genius. And he wanted to compare DNA samples between us to see if there were any genetic components that determined a person’s suitability towards certain Miraculous or other magical artifacts over others. It was supposed to just be a fun side project that he didn’t expect any breakthroughs on. He mostly just wanted to satisfy his own curiosity. But instead of finding out if our DNA was linked to the miraculous, he found out that my parents are not biologically my parents.”

“Hence the whole just finding out that you’re a meta thing, right?” Nightwing spoke up, fully invested in the story. “Did they never say you were adopted before?”

“It’s not in the system,” she replied easily. “My parents have all the documentation to prove that I’m their biological child, except I’m not. When I confronted them about it, they caved and admitted that they had adopted me in secret and covered it up. Apparently a friend of theirs was involved in something illegal, and,” she waved at the envelope that Batman was now opening. “The details of what we were able to dig up are in there. The summary is this; their friend was part of a secret, illegal experimentation to create clones that could defeat the Justice League—“ the air seemed to get sucked out of the room as soon as those words left Marinette’s mouth. Everyone seemed to know exactly what she was talking about. “—a group called CADMUS. They made me, as apparently one of their early attempts. But I didn’t exhibit any of the powers they were looking for, or any meta traits at all, and my body refused to mature at the rate they wanted. They had no use for a seemingly normal human baby that they managed to clone, so they were preparing to kill me and start over. That’s when my parent’s friend stole me, not wanting to kill an infant, and begged my parents to take me in and pretend I was theirs. Low and behold, it turns out that my DNA just needed a very specific series of emotions to unlock it’s latent abilities.”

“Those emotions being..?” Red hood trailed off, earning a wolfish smile from Marinette.

“Intense anger, betrayal, and confused frustration closely followed by the desire to punch other people’s faces in.”

“That last one is just an assumption,” Adrien chimed in. “And maybe not accurate. But the first three, our scientist friend was able to confirm. The rapid experience of a lot of negative but action-oriented emotions released whatever had been holding back the powers in her DNA from expressing themselves,” he had switched to French so that he could explain everything exactly as Max had told it to them, but he knew all of them were fluent anyway so it was fine. They nodded along, processing the information.

The crinkling of paper drew everyone’s attention back to Batman, who had been flipping through the detailed break down of everything they had found about Marinette’s situation and how she was made by CADMUS.

“Uh,” Red Robin nervously spoke up. “What’s up, Batman?”

“Your genetic donors...” Batman breathed, getting a wink and finger guns from Marinette.

“Yup. Isn’t that just the most fucked up thing you’ve ever seen? They were clearly trying to make someone who could destroy the world.”

“That makes me nervous,” Nightwing admitted, getting up and going to get a look at the papers himself. “It can’t be that ba—“

When even Nightwing was left agape, everyone else who wasn’t in on it found themselves squirming.

“Just tell the rest of us, already!” Robin demanded after the silence stretched just a bit too long.

“The unknowing genetic donors that CADMUS used to make me,” Marinette spoke up, still with her legs up on the table. “Are a very mad-scientist’s-wet-dream combination of Lex Luthor, Bruce Wayne, and Wonder Woman.”

“We don’t even know why they added Bruce Wayne’s DNA,” Adrien admitted. “Although our scientist friend thinks it’s because of physique. His hypothesis is that, in order to support the genes of Wonder Woman, they had to add male genetics that could support the production of a very high muscle mass and would lean towards easy development of a very athletic body. Lex might be evil-scientist smart, but he’s a string bean. But if he added the DNA of another multi millionaire who just so happens to maintain a ridiculously fit body without putting any obvious work into it,” Adrien shrugged. “Then maybe the clone would be able to support Wonder Woman’s genetics and that of two human donors without falling apart.”

“So I’m ‘the clone’ now, huh?” Marinette snarked, earning an exasperated eye roll from her friend.

Batman just stared at the both of them for a moment. He walked away without a word, and came back with a fresh needle and a box. He placed it on the debriefing table.

“Can I do a paternity test myself?” He asked, his voice suspiciously less gruff than normal. “I trust the both of you, but I rather be safe than sorry with something like this.”

The both of them just stared at him in confusion. They traded a glance, and finally Marinette shrugged and moved to sit in her chair properly. Her shirt was already short sleeved, so she just held her arm out so Batman could easily get a blood sample.

“Sure, why not. But do you just have Lex Luthor or Bruce Wayne’s DNA sitting around to compare, or—“ she shut up when she watched Batman take off his glove and roll his own sleeve up. Realization slowly sunk in as he asked Nightwing to take a blood sample from him.

“Holy shit,” she breathed, eyes wide. “You’re— and Luthor doesn’t know— holy shit this is even worse than I thought,” Marinette rambled, not even noticing as Red Hood moved forward and took a small blood sample from her.

Adrien put a hand over his face and just laughed for a moment hysterically. “Oh my god,” he looked over at Marinette. “You could take over the world.”

“I have the blood of Batman AND Wonder Woman on MY side,” Marinette joked back, also hysterical.

When the bat’s high tech equipment was able to come back with a positive result only a few minutes later, Marinette and Adrien had to sit on the floor and just let it all sink in. Which Batman did not at all help by immediately unmasking himself and trying to make a proper introduction.

“I wanna go beat up random thugs again,” Marinette whined, pulling at her hair. “I’ll put on a mask, whatever, but just please let me punch people. I need to punch people right now.”

#maribat #ml x dc #mlb x dc #soulmate-game #dc x miraculous #dc x mlb #bio!mom Wonder Woman #Bio!mom Diana prince #bio!dad Bruce Wayne #Bio!dad Batman #idk what this is #but it happened #and it’s something

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cjsinkythoughts · 3 years

Text

The Conversation

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 7661 (Don’t come at me - you guys asked for it)

Warnings: !FATWS Spoilers!, Cursing, Fluff, Feelings, I Dunno What Else, This One’s Pretty Chill, Except The Ending, But You’ll See When You Get There

A/N: Here it is! I was hesitant about posting it because that means we’re getting closer to the end and I’m such a nostalgic bitch! I’m definitely gonna cry next week when the last episode comes out! Anyways, I’ve got a few things to talk about:

I think this is one of the most important chapters I’ve written and I’m excited to see your reactions to it. It is longer, but you guys asked for that, so you got it! Also, I’m loving the Asks, Comments, and Reblogs. I try to respond to all of them. I have work in a little bit, so I won’t be able to until after, but I’ll get back to you as soon as I can. Ask me anything; about my series, the show, any of the movies, personal stuff, I really don’t care. If you’re not comfortable, that’s totally fine! Every like means so much to me!

I know it’s not the end yet - we’ve got one more episode and a list of One Shots to get through - but there’s a definite feeling of this series coming to an end, and I just want to thank you all for the support and love you’ve been giving it! I’ve really enjoyed writing these characters and this story! It’s very, very special to me and I’m glad I’ve been able to share it with you lovely people!

On that note, be kind to yourselves and others! Thank you again for reading! Excuse any mistakes - this isn’t beta’d! Enjoy and stay tuned!

FATWS Masterlist

cjsinkythoughts Masterlist

!SPOILERS UNDER CUT! (Sorry for the gifs I just love them so much and he’s so pretty and this part is technically two parts so...you get four!)

“Louisiana.” Bucky hummed, looking around the airport.

You rolled your eyes. “You’re not gonna find anything interesting about Louisiana in here, doofus. Let’s call an Uber.”

“An Ooper? What the hell is an Ooper?”

You giggled, shaking your head and grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the luggage carousel. “Uber. It’s like…a taxi service. But there’s an app on your phone to get a driver instead of waiting for one on the street.”

“Oh.” He blinked, tilting his head. “That’s…helpful.”

You laughed again, stopping in front of Carousel 3, where your flight from New York was assigned. You went back to New York to grab a bag with clean clothes and other necessities, along with taking a real shower for once. It was nice to be back in the States, as much as you loved traveling. It’d been a crazy few weeks and you were ready to just relax.

“Do you think there were any problems with Sammy’s present?”

Bucky shook his head. “Nah. Especially considering they know who we are.”

You snickered at his slight grumble. They had had…problems at the other two airports - first the one in Sokovia then JFK in New York - considering Bucky’s entire arm was metal. It’d taken a full hour before they actually let you go, and by that time they had to give you a new plane because yours had left.

“Seriously. Who else has a fucking metal arm and has 1917 listed as their birth year on their Driver’s License?” You giggled again. That was also true. They thought he was messing with them. It wasn’t until you stepped in a few minutes after they asked Bucky to step to the side, seeing Bucky get frustrated, that they realized Bucky wasn’t pulling their legs.

“Well, we’re here now and that’s all that matters.”

He nodded in agreement, watching for your bags, his hand finding yours when he realized how many people there were. “Do you know where he lives? I didn’t even think about it.”

“Yeah, don’t worry. He invited me over once. I declined, but I saved the address.”

“He…invited you over?” Bucky frowned.

You gave him a look. “I’m sure he invited you, too. You just never checked his texts.”

He licked his lips, tilting his head. “Yeah, no, I know, but I mean…why didn’t you go? Weren’t you two just talking about how you wanted to meet his nephews the other day?”

“Yeah, but I had gotten a tip on Wanda at the time and I didn’t want to miss the chance that she was there. He told me it was fine. I still felt really bad. I could tell he was a bit disappointed. I think it was one of the boys’ birthdays. Or something. I don’t remember. Is that bad? Yeah, probably. I really should remember. Maybe I should keep track of birthdays on my calendar or something.”

“Doll.” You looked up to find him giving you a magnificent smile, teeth and all. “You’re rambling.”

“Oh. Am I? Sorry. I didn’t realize.”

He shook his head quickly, squeezing your hand. “Don’t apologize. It’s cute. I’m just not used to you talking so much. You kinda did on the phone sometimes.”

You shrugged, pushing down the heat crawling up your neck at his words. “I rambled a lot to Steve.”

“Oh.”

His face fell, making you scrunch your eyebrows up in confusion, nudging him slightly to grin at him. “It’s nice to have someone to ramble to again, though.” There was that smile again. You were stopped from saying anything more when you noticed some kids pointing and chattering excitedly at a gleaming silver box coming around the corner on the conveyor belt. “There it is.”

He looked over his shoulder, dropping your hand and stepping over to grab it, lifting it effortlessly. You didn’t know what was in it or how heavy it was, but you were sure it felt like a feather to him.

“Alright. Got our bag, sweetheart?” You lifted up the duffle in answer and he jerked his head towards the doors. “Let’s get outta here, then. Call that Booper or whatever.”

“U-B-E-R! Ub-er!” You threw your hands up, following him as he started walking towards the exit. “What’s so hard about it?!”

He just gave you a little smirk over his shoulder.

***************

Bucky kept asking the Uber driver questions about his job. The guy was super nice and patient the whole time, a thick southern accent lacing his answers. Southern hospitality was no joke and apparently had no limit as Bucky asked about his experiences, listening intently and telling him his own stories of taxi drivers in NYC.

When you got to Sam’s sister’s house, Bucky, being Bucky, tipped the driver half of what you paid for the ride, thanking him for his time and energy, before getting out.

“You’re so adorable, you know that?” You teased him as you stepped up the porch stairs and knocked on the door.

He rolled his eyes, a tint of pink dusting across his cheeks. “He was nice.”

You hummed at his defense, the smile never leaving your features. After a moment, Bucky raised his fist to knock again. “Jesus Christ! Don’t fucking knock their door down!” You grabbed his wrist and lowered it.

“Sorry. I forget sometimes.” Bucky informed you absentmindedly, tilting his head to peek in the window. “I don’t think anyone’s home.”

“They’re probably at the docks, then.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “The docks?”

You nodded, gesturing for him to follow you. “Yeah. They have a boat, remember? He talked about it last week.”

“Oh right. The one he’s trying to convince his sister not to sell.”

“Yeah.” You confirmed. “I’m pretty sure it’s that way. I don’t know how far, but we can call the Uber back-”

Bucky scrunched up his face and shook his head. “Nah. I don’t wanna bother him again. We can walk.”

You gave him an incredulous look. “It’s literally his job to drive people around.”

“Well, yeah, but what if he’s got other people to drive?”

You lifted his metal knuckles to your lips. “Trust me, Buck, I’m sure he’d rather drive you than anyone else.”

“Thank you?”

Swinging your now linked hands, you gave a firm nod, letting him know it was, in fact, a compliment. “You are so very welcome.”

The walk was a lot longer than you thought it was, and you ended up on Bucky’s back after he kept complaining about how you “shouldn’t be walking this long” and you were “injured” and you “needed rest’”. You’re not sure how a shoulder wound affected your ability to walk, but you relented and let him carry you the rest of the way to stop his whining.

“You forget, you did pull your thigh.”

“That was, like, three weeks ago! Yeesh!”

You finally got to the docks, which were bustling with people. Bucky set you down and raised an eyebrow which you shrugged in reply to, before heading over to where you spotted Sam with a few other older men.

“How do we get it off the truck?” You heard Sam ask, pointing to a large boat engine part in the bed of a beaten up truck. Scoffing as Bucky lifted it up without breaking a sweat, you leaned against the truck. Bucky grunted and set it down, looking at Sam.

“You’re welcome.” What a punk. “Just dropping this off.” Bucky lifted the case and set it where the engine was previously, Sam coming to stand on the opposite side of the truck as you. “You can sign for it and I’ll go.” You snorted, shaking your head, making Bucky shove your shoulder - the uninjured one - playfully. “I called in a favor from the Wakandans.”

Sam looked at you curiously. You shrugged and shook your head. “Don’t look at me, Sammy. He wouldn’t tell me what it is. He’s all hushy hushy about it until you say so.”

Before Sam could reply, there was a squeak and hissing over at the boat where steam was coming from a few pipes.

“Sam!” You knew that was Sarah from pictures Sam showed you. You stayed up by the truck, pulling yourself onto the bed while Sam tried fixing the pipe, Bucky butting in to show him how to do it properly.

“Why didn’t you use the metal arm?”

You saw Bucky lift up said metallic limb. “Well…I don’t always think of it immediately. I’m-I’m right handed.” Letting out a laugh, Bucky turned around and scowled teasingly at you. “And what’re you laughing at?!”

“Nothing!”

“Well then get your ass over here!”

You rolled your eyes, hopping down from the truck as Bucky asked if Sam wanted help with the boat. You leaned against a wooden post, grinning when Sam looked at you.

“I don’t have any plans.”

Sam gave a small smile, jerking his head back. “Yeah.”

You jumped down onto the boat to follow him, looking over your shoulder and stopping with an amused eyebrow raised as Bucky introduced himself to Sarah. “I’m Bucky.”

“Ah…Sarah.”

“Sarah.” Bucky repeated her name, before walking towards you, a grin still on his lips.

“Careful, Barnes. That playboy Steve warned me about is coming out.” You nudged him with a smirk, ignoring the feeling of your stomach dropping.

He rolled his eyes, kissing your head as he passed you and Sam to go where Sam was gesturing. “Don’t worry, Y/N. You’re still my doll.”

Sam raised an eyebrow, falling into step besides you and lowering his voice. “Conversation?”

“Hasn’t happened.” You informed him through clenched teeth as he groaned.

Sam gave you a list of chores that needed to be done to clean up the boat, giving you a quick tour and letting you know where all the tools needed where. You set to work immediately.

Sanding down, replacing old parts, cleaning, polishing and painting over the things that didn’t need replacing. They didn’t let you do any heavy lifting because of your stupid shoulder, but you were still able to help.

Sam had turned on some music for you to listen to, so you danced around the boat while cleaning. Turning your head when you felt a pair of eyes on you, you smiled when Bucky snapped his head back down to the wood he was sanding down.

“Gonna dance, Barnes?”

He looked back over, shaking his head. “Nah. I’m good watching you.”

Rolling your eyes, you got back to work, continuing to bop to the music, fully aware that he was watching you now.

A little while later, you were repainting the edges of the boat orange, when you looked over and noticed Bucky playing around with a paint scraper…sitting right on the edge that you had just finished repainting a few minutes ago.

“Buck!”

He looked over, eyebrows raised. “Yeah?”

You bit your lip, trying to hold back your mischievous grin. Shaking your head, you waved dismissively. “Never mind!”

He gave you a confused sort of pout, before shrugging and continuing to fidget with the tool. It wasn’t until later when he got up to help Sam tear the metal plating off the edge that it came to light with Sam chuckling and raising an eyebrow.

“Sit in something there, Barnes?”

“What?”

Bucky craned his neck back, eyes widening when he saw the orange paint on his ass, contrasting with his jeans. You let out a cackle and he whipped towards you, pointing at you accusingly, although the small uptick of his lips let you know he wasn’t really mad.

“Y/N!”

“No, no, no!” You laughed, sprinting across the deck, shrieking when he grabbed your waist and spun you around. You gasped when he grabbed a paint brush and painted an orange stripe right down the front of your shirt. “James!”

“Justice, sweetheart.” He breathed in your ear with a chuckle.

You shook your head, wiggling out of his hold. “This is a nice shirt!”

“You should’ve thought about that before.” He smirked, crossing his arms. Your eyes caught sight of Sam behind him, who raised an eyebrow and the bucket of paint he was holding. You nodded with a little giggle, making Bucky’s eyes narrow. “What’s so funny over there, do - holy shit!

You guffawed as orange paint dripped down his head, Sam standing innocently behind him with the now empty bucket behind his back. “Samuel!”

“Oops?”

“I’m gonna kill you!”

“Try me old man!”

“Fuck!

“Doll!”

“Oh my God!”

Paint, orange and white since those were the only cans they had out, flew across the deck, paint brushes being used like fencing swords.

You found out too late that wet paint was a little bit slippery and you slid on a huge puddle, sending you, not onto the ground below, but over the side of the edge into the water.

“Doll!”

“Cher, you good?!”

The three of you looked at each other, stunned for a moment, before bursting into fits of laughter and you nodded. “I’m good!”

The boys helped you get back up onto the dock, Sarah appearing with towels she conjured up out of thin air. “Let’s get you into dry clothes. Do you have-?”

“We’ve got some. We got a bag.” You told her with a grin, facing the guys. “You two should clean up some, too. Sammy, you’ve got a little something right there.” You pointed to your cheek, his own having a giant white splotch from his temple to his jaw. “And Buck?” You sniggered, gesturing to the whole of him. “You’ve got a lotta something right there.”

“Ha. Ha.” He looked down. His top was practically tiger print, drenched in orange with white here and there, and his ass still orange as well. His hair, which had been plastered to his forehead, was starting to dry now, and it only made you laugh some more thinking about what a pain it’d be to get it out. For him, at least.

“God. Can’t even have a relaxing day on the boat with you two.” Sam jested once you finished up and joined him and Bucky, who had just finished dumping out some water buckets. Bucky had changed his shirt and it looked like they tried wiping their faces, but Sam still had small lines of white down his face. “How ‘bout a couple of drinks? Surely you can’t ruin that too.”

“Ruin?” You gasped in mock offence. “Sammy! I just made the day more…interesting.”

Sam chuckled, ruffling Bucky’s hair, which still had orange streaks in it. “Let’s go get some beers.”

************

You chatted for a bit, mainly you and Sam with you asking how Sarah and the boys were while Bucky with your legs in his lap, just listening to you two and sipping at his bottle. You had his hand in your own lap, wiping it down with a rag due to the paint that got on it.

“You’re lucky this is vibranium, you know.” You commented off handedly. “If it was your other one, it’d definitely get stained.”

“And who’s fault is that?” Bucky shot back with a teasing grin.

“Sammy’s.”

Sam spluttered. “Wh-what?! You started it!” You laughed, shaking your head.

Falling into a comfortable silence with just the water and birds chirping as your soundtrack, you downed the rest of your drink, which Bucky took as finished. “Well,” you moved your legs to let him stand up. He leaned forwards to clink his bottle against Sam’s and you stood up and stretched. “Gotta catch our flight tomorrow. Get a hotel room for the night.” Sam gave you a look to which you rolled your eyes at as Bucky set down his bottle and grabbed his jacket. “Crash, you know?”

“So you’re just gonna set me up like that, huh?”

“Well I don’t wanna make it weird for your family.”

“Just stay here.” You laughed as Sam babbled on about how nice the people were here, grabbing the jacket Bucky handed to you. It was getting a bit chilly from the breeze on the water and the sun going down. Plus, that water was cold.

“But don’t flirt with my sister.”

You cackled at Bucky’s face, that turned serious, his head shaking. “No.”

“‘Cause if you do I’ll have Carlos cut you up and feed you to the fish.”

“Can’t hold back the dog, Wilson. It’s been stuck in a kennel too long.”

Bucky turned to you, grabbing your jaw and squishing your cheeks together. “You know what? You need to shush. You’ve been snippy all day.”

You just smiled as innocently as you could with your lips being held by his metal fingers. “You’re too fun to mess with.”

He pecked your nose. “As long as I’m the only one you’re messing with. I’ll be right back.” He let you go and spun around, maneuvering around the boat in a way only a trained assassin could do.

“Oh my God, please! Please just put me out of my fucking misery! You’re killing me, cher.”

“What?” You gaped at him.

“Don’t act innocent!” Sam huffed, giving you a pointed look. “If I have to watch you two make googly eyes at you one more fucking day with neither of you doing anything about it-”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh come on, Sammy-”

“Don’t ‘come on, Sammy’ me! And don’t come at me with that ‘he doesn’t like me back’ bullshit. If you think for a second that boy wouldn’t follow you to the depths of the fucking ocean, you’re blind as a bat, woman.”

You shrugged, pushing up the sleeves of Bucky’s too big jacket. “It just…hasn’t come up.”

He deadpanned, shaking his head and standing up. “That’s it. I’m done. You two are driving me insane. I’m gonna lock you in a room until you have the conversation that needs to be had the next time either of you does something stupid.”

“Yikes. That’s gonna be quick.” At his look, your smile dropped and you nodded. “Okay, okay. I’ll…I’ll bring it up later.”

“Tomorrow or nothing.”

“Sam-”

Sam tilted his head, brow creasing. “Is it still Steve? Is that what this is still about? Because he’s gone, and he’s been gone and you need to get over it-”

“No. It’s not…” You sighed. “It clicked the other day. When we were hanging out. Steve left and, yeah, I might always love him, but Bucky…God…I love Bucky, Sam.”

The man grinned proudly. “I’m glad to finally hear you admit it. So what’s the problem?”

“It’s still complicated, right? I mean…he’s his best friend and I’ve never dealt with stuff like this before and-”

Sam’s smile dropped and he groaned again. “Imma head out. I can’t take this. Dumbass and dumberass. I swear to God.” You sniggered a bit as he grumbled, walking towards the ramp to climb off the boat, just as Bucky reappeared.

“Hey-”

“Nope! Not right now, Barnes! I can’t handle it! I can’t!”

Bucky gave you a weird look. “What’d you do?”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Nothing.”

“Well, c’mon, doll. Sarah said she’s gonna make gumbo for us, whatever that is.” He held out his hand as you walked over.

“You’re such a city boy.” You teased lightly, taking his hand and letting him help you pull you onto the dock. You shoved the sleeves of his jackets up again since they slipped from the first time. “Let’s go get some dinner. I’m starving.”

******************

“We have the couch and a mattress we can pull out, I just have to make Sam get it from the attic-”

“That’s alright. The couch is fine.” Bucky waved dismissively while you nodded in agreement.

Sarah raised an eyebrow at you two. “For both of you?”

You blinked, exchanging a look with Bucky, before shrugging and turning back to her. “Yeah.”

“Don’t fight it, Sarah.” Sam peeked out from the hall. “They’ve got a weird relationship.” You stuck your tongue out at the man while Bucky rolled his eyes, dropping your duffle bag by the couch. “How mature, Y/N.” Sam mimicked your action.

“Uhm…okay. Let me set up the couch for you then.”

Once everything was set up, you and Bucky thanking her for dinner - delicious and you’d never seen Bucky smile so much, the boys having kept him highly entertained throughout the meal - and for letting you crash, Sam and Sarah headed to their rooms, the boys already having been tucked in for the night.

“Are you gonna sleep on the floor?” You asked quietly, sitting down on the couch and doing the things for your night routine you didn’t already do in the bathroom.

“I think I’ll be okay.” He sat besides you. “I’ve been doing fine the past week or so.”

You smiled at him. “That’s good. Alright.” You stood up and stretched. “Let me just make sure everything’s in the bag and ready-”

You yelped when his arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you into his chest, shifting down to lay against the couch’s arm. “Do it in the morning.” He yawned, looking up at you tiredly. “I wanna go to sleep.”

“Then go to sleep, Buck. I’ll be right back.” He shook his head, his hold tightening as he sunk deeper into the couch.

“No. I fall asleep better with you.”

You rolled your eyes but grinned, settling down with your legs between his, your chin resting on his sternum so you could still look at him. He beamed, but you could see the exhaustion settling in, and he grabbed the blanket Sarah left over the back of the couch and draped it across your back, over both of your legs, before his arms crossed snugly under the covers at the small of your back.

“Dinner was nice tonight. I haven’t had a meal cooked like that in ages.” You hummed.

He nodded in agreement. “I think that’s the first time I’ve sat around a table with a family since the 40′s.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Did you like it?”

“Yeah...kinda makes me wish I had my own.”

“Your own what?”

“Family.”

You bit your lip, shyly avoiding his gaze. “You’re my family, Buck.”

A light kiss was pressed to your forehead, his fingers bringing your gaze back to his. “There’s no one else I’d rather have.” The room lapsed into silence again, the clock ticking on the wall, the low sound of crickets outside.

“You have really pretty eyes.” You mumbled, tilting your head slightly as you studied them. They always held so much emotion in them, especially in contrast to when you first met him as Soldat. They matched the water you fell in, and you wouldn’t mind falling over and over into them.

“Yeah, well, you’re just really pretty inside and out, so I think you’ve got me beat, doll.” He whispered back.

“You know who else is pretty? Sarah.”

He nodded with a hum. “That’s true. But I meant what I said. You’ll always be my doll.”

“So you’re not gonna ask her out?”

He gave you a weird look as you traced his sharp jawline absentmindedly. “Nah, sweetheart. It’s just…some harmless flirting. Except on Sam’s part.”

You gave a soft huff of laughter. “Yeah…he’s gonna strangle you. It is nice to see you like that, though. Flirty. Relaxed. Happy.”

“You make me happy, sweetheart.” He hummed, nosing your temple. “The road trip helped. I’m learning everything from you. Maybe not the flirting, but the carefree part.”

You blinked at him, finger stopping for a moment as you thought. “Oh…”

You felt his fingers dance up your spine, making you shiver slightly. “What I would give to know what’s goin’ on inside that pretty lil’ head’a yours, doll.”

“I just think it’s funny you’re learning how to be carefree from me…when I just started learning how to do it myself.”

“Oh yeah?”

You nodded, your finger continuing its path down his jaw. “I think it started with the goats.”

“The goats?”

You nodded again, resting your cheek on his chest, watching your finger move up from his chin. Once you got to the end of his jaw, you lightly scratched his scruff. “In Wakanda. Our goats.” You weren’t looking at him, so you didn’t see the way he physically melted at your words, his eyes going soft, his lips turning up slightly.

“Our goats, huh?”

But your tired brain wasn’t really processing what he said, instead focusing on the features your finger was now tracing - over his lips, up his nose. “You’re pretty too, Buck. Did you know that? Inside and out.”

He craned his neck to kiss your forehead. “Go to sleep, cuddle bug.”

Nodding, you nuzzled into his chest, finger feeling over the bumps and indents on the dog tags resting near your head. You tried going to sleep, but you kept shifting, your mind not shutting off.

“Hey, sleepyhead, I’m trying to, you know, sleep.”

“Sorry.” You apologized meekly. “I just…I dunno. I can’t.”

“Are you comfortable?” He peeked open and eye to look at you questioningly. You nodded. “Is it too hot? We can take the blanket off. I know I’m a walking furnace-”

You shook your head. “No. I don’t know why. I just can’t sleep.”

He licked his lips thoughtfully, before cradling your head and guiding you back down to his chest. “Lay down, sweetheart. Relax.” He stroked your hair, moving his head down to rub circles in your back muscles, pressing down harder when he felt knots.

You hummed, your eyes closing. “That feels good.”

“Shshsh. Just go to sleep.” His lips pressed against your head once more, lingering a bit longer than they usually do, as you felt yourself drift off. You cuddled his side, throwing a leg over his waist, before nodding off, only barely hearing his words. “Attagirl. There we are.”

******************

“Doll?” You felt a shift underneath you and groaned, your eyes barely cracking open. “Hey, sleepyhead…it’s okay. I’m just gonna slip out from under ya, alright? Gonna go help Sammy with somethin’.”

You raised an eyebrow, letting him move you against the cushions as he sat up on the edge of the couch. “Sammy?”

“Yeah.” He bent over and kissed your cheek. You stretched out your limbs, about to rub your eyes, when he stopped you, kissing the inside of your wrists. “No. Not you, doll. Go back to sleep.”

“Bu’...’m gonna help.” You slurred out, looking at him with confused, squinty eyes.

He chuckled, shaking his head. “It’s okay. Rest. You can help when you wake up again. Okay?” You mumbled out an “okay”, bringing the covers up to your chin and snuggling deeper into the cushions. “There ya go, cuddle bug. Good girl.” There was another kiss, one to your temple this time, before you slipped back into unconsciousness.

******************

The next time you woke up was because of a clatter in the kitchen. You yawned and sat up, stretching, eyebrows furrowing when you realized Bucky wasn’t with you. It took you a moment to remember your conversation, which you half thought you dreamt.

“Boys!”

“Sorry!”

You chuckled at the shouts, rubbing your eyes. “I am so sorry!” Sarah apologized, looking over at you from the stove. Trying to make the boys breakfast before school. Do you want anything? Eggs? Cereal? Toast?”

“Uh, cereal’s fine.” You stretched out your back again, before throwing back the covers and standing up, a little shakily.

“You wouldn’t happen to know where Sam went, would you?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Uh, I think him and Bucky went to fix something on the boat. I don’t for sure, though.”

Sarah groaned. “He probably went to fix the stupid water pump which doens’t need fixing. Dumbass.”

You chuckled, padding over into the kitchen. “Yeah. I just work with him. I can’t imagine growing up with him.”

“Trust me; some days you want to throw him in a box and send him out to sea. Bowls are in that cupboard.”

You snickered, moving over to grab a bowl from the cupboard she pointed to. “That’s how I feel with Bucky. Sam is less often, but when those two get together…it’s a full zoo.”

She laughed at that, nodding as she got out the milk and a few boxes of cereal for you to choose from, handing you a spoon. “That I believe.”

“Thank you.”

“Of course.”

You started pouring your cereal, watching in slight amusement as she got the boys ready for school. “Bus is here! Get out the door! Bye! Love you! Make sure you take those extra lunches to-!”

“Yeah, mom! We know! Love you too!”

You gave a slight smirk as she huffed, looking around the kitchen at the pans and dishes left out. “Kids, huh?”

She gave you a smile. “Yeah. They’re a handful, but I wouldn’t trade them for anything. How about you? Any thoughts of kids?”

“Me?” Your eyes widened, nearly choking on your food. “Oh God no. Not right now, at least. I don’t even have a solid house right now. My life’s too off the walls for that.”

“And Bucky?”

You raised an eyebrow as she leaned on the counter. “Bucky? What about Bucky?”

“Does he want kids?”

“Uh…I dunno.” You shrugged, clearing your throat as you remembered your talk last night. “Kinda makes me wish I had my own.” You quickly pushed his words aside. “He hasn’t told me.”

“Wait, wait. You two…aren’t together then?”

You blinked, your eyes widening again. “Together? Me and Bucky? No…why? Did Sam say something?”

Her expression morphed into one of disbelief, crossing her arms. “Sam didn’t say anything. You guys did. Are you seriously expecting me to believe you aren’t together?”

“We’re not! I mean - he was flirting with you yesterday-”

“Right, okay. Honey, that’s flirting. And it’s harmless. The way he follows you like a puppy and you look at him like he hung the stars? That’s feelings. And that’s a lot more impactful than flirting.”

You frowned in contemplation. It was really that obvious? You were really that blind? This whole time? You knew Sam knew - but you just figured that’s because he’s been there since it started. And Sharon knew for the same reason. But Sarah? The woman you just met the day prior and had barely had a conversation with?

“It’s, uh…” You chewed on your cheek, swirling your cereal around. “It’s complicated.”

Sarah didn’t look impressed. “Do you like him?”

“I’m kinda in love with him-”

She shrugged, not letting you finish your bashful statement. “Then I don’t see what’s complicated about it.”

And that was that. She turned to clean up breakfast, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

You thought it was more complicated than that. I mean…you were in love with your best friend. Who left you. With the guy you had feelings for who just so happened to be your best friend/crush’s best friend. And now you were completely in love with your best friend’s best friend, but your best friend still had a piece of your heart.

But…you loved Bucky. And he was here. And Steve was not. And when you put it that way…you guess it wasn’t so complicated after all.

******************

You snickered as you walked up behind Sarah, the woman berating the men for not leaving the water pump along like she asked.

“Hi, Sarah.”

Sam shot Bucky a warning look, who grinned, but you were surprised to see Sarah ignore him, sending you a knowing glance instead, before turning back to Sam. “I told you specifically that the water pump was not the problem, and yet, here you are.”

“Yep, Samuel.”

You chuckled, Bucky shooting you a wink. “Yeah, Samuel.”

Sam narrowed his eyes at you, turning to Sarah. “In our defense, you were supposed to be done long before you woke up.”

You nearly facepalmed at his “defensive” and you were trying so hard to hold back laughing as she told Sam off, sending them away.

“I don’t wanna hear a peep from you.” Sam pointed at you, but that only made your chortles come out, and you didn’t even bother hiding them. “She’s a very mean person.”

“It’s tough love.”

You giggled as they started arguing, slipping an arm around their waists, their arms instinctually coming up to your shoulders.

“Oh my God. A prowess?”

“Yes, Y/N. A prowess.”

“You know, maybe if you someone let me help-”

“Hey, woah! You were tired! I let you sleep! I was being nice!”

“Too late now. I’ll be lucky if Sarah lets me within a hundred feet of it!”

“She got you so good, Sammy!”

“I agree with Buck for once! You’re too snippy right now! And c’mon man! Stop flirting with my sister!”

“It’s my natural charm.”

“Charm? What charm?”

“Ouch, doll! That one hurt!”

****************

“Okay.” You stepped out of the bathroom, walking over to the couch and setting the bag down on it. “I’ve got everything packed. We’ve got a little over an hour until we need to head out which gives you two time to go set something up for Sammy and maybe even a bit or training before we leave.”

Bucky frowned. “You’re not gonna come out?”

“I will in a bit. I just got a phone call I need to take.”

Sam narrowed his eyes. “Government call?”

You gave a mocking smile. “Can you guess what they want to talk about? It’s okay. I’ll survive. It’s only a phone call, so I can always hang up. Pretend I didn’t have good service. I do it all the time.”

“I’m sure you do.” Sam chuckled. “In that case, I’m gonna go grab some stuff and get the shield.” As he walked out, he made sure to mouth at you behind Bucky’s back ‘conversation’ making you swallow thickly. You were planning on talking to Bucky anyways, and with Sam’s insistence…

“Okay, so, I was thinking when we get back-”

“Can I talk to you?”

Bucky stopped digging through the bag, blinking at you in surprise at your sudden burst. “Uh…well, we already are, so yes.” He chuckled, straightening and crossing his arms.

“I wanna have the conversation.”

He was left stunned, once again, his mouth opening and closing and his weight shifting form one foot to the other. “Like…that conversation? R-right now? Are you sure?”

You winced at her nervousness. “Sorry, sorry. I know it’s kinda…I just…I need to talk about it. Now.”

“Okay, okay. No, that’s fine. Don’t apologize. I just wasn’t expecting it.” Bucky cleared his throat. “That’s all.”

“Okay…” You breathed with a small nod. You opened your mouth, but Bucky shook his head.

“I hafta say this first; I didn’t mean to hurt you by telling you about Steve. I-I dunno what I thought. That it’d give you closure or something. I dunno. But it hurt you and I’m sorry. That wasn’t my intention.”

“Buck-”

“I was jealous. And guilty. And mad. And upset. I still am. Kinda. I guess. I dunno.” Bucky shook his head, running his hand through his hair and all you could do was gape at him as he started confessing to you. “Remember when we danced? In Madripoor? Doll…I don’t wanna dance ever again if it’s not with you. I fucking love you, Y/N. And not in the way we’ve said it before. I’m in love with you. I have been for-for a while now. I just - you were Steve’s. Steve loved you and you loved Steve and that was that and I was just the broken childhood best friend. But Steve left and he told me to take care of you and I didn’t know what to do with that, because you still love Steve. I think. I dunno. And I didn’t want to break what we have because you’re all I have left of him. You and that stupid shield. You’re my family. My home. I really meant it when I told you that. And that’s why I couldn’t tell you. Because it means too much for me to break what we have because I fell in love with my best friend’s girl. You know?”

He looked at you with pleading eyes, begging you to understand, but your brain was still trying to process what he was telling you.

“Oh God…” He groaned. “And now I just told you everything and you’re looking at me like that wasn’t what you wanted to hear and now I’m thinking this wasn’t the conversation you were thinking it was going to be-”

You were moving across the room before you could stop yourself, pulling him by the teal Henley you knew was comfortable having worn it to bed before when you visited him in New York, and slanting your lips over his.

His breathing hitched and he froze, and for a hot second you thought you made everything worse, but then he was kissing you back and his hands were on your hips and he was pulling you closer and it felt so fucking good you didn’t want to pull back for air.

“Shut up.” You muttered when you finally did pull back, your forehead against his, your eyes clenched shut. “Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up.” You pulled back to look up at him, chests heaving against each other, your eyes prickling. “I’m not good at this. I’m not good at opening up. I only ever was good at it with Steve but Bucky…I’ve been doing it with you. This whole time and I didn’t even realize it until the conversation in the car.”

He reached up to cup your cheeks, wiping away the relieved tears that were falling from the weight you were finally getting off your chest.

“I love you. I’m in love with you. How could I not be? After all that time in Wakanda? I was never Steve’s girl, Bucky. I wanted to be. Dammit, did I wanna be, but I wasn’t. Not really. And he’s gone. But you’re not. And I don’t know why it took me so long to see that. That you’re the one in front of me. You’re the one who held me when I needed it once he left. You’re the one that would listen to my rambles that I’m just realizing was most of our phone calls. You’re not just the broken childhood friend. Don’t ever think that. I don’t pick up the phone at five in the morning after searching for a friend until two for just anyone. Even Steve’s best friend. And I’m such an idiot because I’ve been pushing away my feelings all these years for Steve and then I let them out with you at the wrong time, because I love Steve, Bucky, but I’m not in love with him. Not since I fell in love with you. And I know it doesn’t make sense, but Steve was the first one I cared about and that’s just how I feel and I can try to explain, but-”

His lips crashed onto yours again and you could taste the salty tears that were pouring down your cheeks, but you didn’t care. He was holding you and he was kissing you and it was even more perfect than you thought it’d be.

“You’re adorable when you ramble, but Jesus Christ, shuddup, doll.” He breathed. “Just tell me you love me. Tell me you love me just a fraction of how much I love you.”

You looked up into those ocean eyes, your own shining with earnest affection. “James Buchanan Barnes. I love you.”

“That’s all I need to know.” He murmured against your lips, holding your head against his, still wiping away your tears. It felt like with each one that fell, you felt lighter and lighter. Like they were taking away every fear and anxiety you held within you for the past six months.

“Alright! I was thinking we could just set up in these trees out here - holy shit! Is it done? Did you do it? Did I miss it? Has the conversation been had?”

Bucky chuckled as you giggled. “He has the worst timing.” The last two words were loud enough so Sam could hear, although the man heard the whole sentence.

“I’m gonna take that as a yes!” Sam cheered. “Halle-fucking-lujah! Finally! I was that close to locking you two in the attic.”

You shook your head at Sam’s personal celebration, drowning the rest of his words out as you looked at Bucky, who swept his thumb over your cheek catching one last tear, before pecking your lips.

“I finally get to kiss where I really want to.” He spoke softly, kissing your lips again. “Are you mine, doll?”

“I thought you said I’d always be your doll.” You answered cheekily. He grinned, kissing you again, pulling you against him by the hips.

“Okay, okay! That’s enough! We get it! You’re in love, finally, but I don’t wanna see it anymore! Now will you come help me with this shit?”

Bucky left one more lingering kiss on your lips, before you pushed him away reluctantly. “I’ll be right out.”

He nodded, moving over to help Sam carry the things he’d gathered.

You watched them put it all up from the window, gnawing on your cheek as you spun your phone in your hands. Coming to a decision, you tossed your phone in the duffle bag and walked out with it just as the boys finished.

“That was a quick phone call.” Sam raised an eyebrow.

You shrugged. “Didn’t call them. If they really need me, they’ll find me.”

Bucky grinned as you set the bag down under a tree, pecking your lips when you got close enough for him to grab by the waist to hold you against him. You rolled your eyes, shoving him playfully away and giggling as Sam let out a groan.

“Alright. Let’s see what you’ve got, Sammy.”

><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><

Bucky knew he needed the tough love talk Sam was giving him. He needed to hear it. Because, deep down, he had known it all along, he just refused to believe it. He tried doing it. Making amends. He knew he wasn’t though. And of course he knew immediately who that one person would be.

“And hey.” Bucky looked at him. “Let me tell you what. Telling my girl all that you told her? That’s a good start. I’m proud of you. Both of you. You’re already happier. I can see it in your eyes.”

Bucky chuckled, shaking his head as he thought of the gorgeous woman he nearly let slip through his fingers. He looked over to the house, where she was inside somewhere getting ready after suddenly deciding she needed to shower before they left. “I was stupid.”

“Yeah you were. You both were. I’m so relieved it’s over.” Sam nudged him. “Treat her right, Buck. She deserves it.”

“I know…I just hope I can.”

Sam shook his head. “Uh-uh. Don’t do that. You were just starting to use that cyborg brain of yours! She chose you. And before you say anything,” Sam cut Bucky off from speaking as he opened his mouth to object. “She chose you before Steve left. It just took her dumbass this long to realize it.”

Bucky nodded, a small smile on his face. “Yeah…okay…” Before he could say anything, the goddess herself stepped out, jogging over, looking absolutely amazing in her jeans and his t-shirt. “Good talk.”

Sam laughed at his quick ending of the conversation as she came up besides them. “Talking about me?” She asked cheekily, eyes shining. Bucky couldn’t help but take her under his arm, pecking her lips. Now that he could, he didn’t think he could stop. He was addicted to say the least.

Throwing Bucky a wink, Sam shrugged. “Just all the things that get on our nerves.”

“Ha ha.” She rolled her eyes. “We better get going.”

Bucky and Sam clapped hands. “You know Karli won’t quit.”

Bucky smiled. “Ah. You call us when you have a lead and we’ll be there.”

Y/N stepped forwards to give Sam a hug. “Anytime, Sammy.”

“Eh. Anytime between noon and midnight.” Bucky corrected. “Or noon and ten. Noon and five…you better just call at noon to be safe.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Sure, sure.”

“Not necessarily as a team.” Bucky continued, grabbing the bag, getting Y/N back in her spot at his side under his arm.

“Nope!”

“We’re not that good.”

“Definitely not.”

“We’re professionals.”

“Definitely.”

“And, uh, we’re partners.”

Sam snapped, pointing at him. “Coworkers.”

“But we’re also a couple of guys with a couple mutual friends.”

“Ones now gone and you’re dating the other.”

“So we’re a couple of guys…with a badass to help out.”

“I can live with that.”

“Perfect.”

“Oh my God.” Y/N let out that laugh Bucky could never get enough of, shaking her head at the two of them. “You forgot dumbasses.”

Sam shook his head. “Nuh-uh. That’s your couple name.”

“Dumbasses?”

“Oh yeah.” The three of them came to a stop, Bucky and his girl - God he loved confirming it now - facing Sam. “Thanks for the help, guys. Meant a lot.”

Bucky patted his shoulder. “Of course.”

Y/N shot him a wink. “Until we meet again, Sammy.”

“Until then, cher.”

Bucky couldn’t stop his grin as she wrapped her arms around his waist, the two of them starting to walk to the main road where she already ordered an Uber. He looked down at her, kissing her lips for the nth time in the past hour.

“I wish I didn’t wait so long,” he told her seriously. “But I’d wait a thousands more centuries if it meant I get to call you mine.”

She giggled, shaking her head. “You’re such a sap! But…” she moved up to kiss him and his heart stuttered. He knew he had a goofy grin on when she pulled back, but he couldn’t help it. Especially when she laughed again. “I have to agree with you on that, Buckaroo.”

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wardenparker · 2 years

Text

Necessary Arrangements: ch 1

Will Miller x female Reader A Princess Diaries inspired Triple Frontier AU Co-written with @steeevienicks

Upon returning from Colombia with one fewer member of his former special forces team, Will Miller is met with the revelation that his absent father is dying and Will is expected to take over the family business. Which would be fine, if the family business weren’t the running of an entire small nation. This is Will’s chance to start over and do some good in the world - but how will he cope with his new life and the woman he is supposed to spend it with?

Rating: Mature Word Count: 4.3k Warnings: Cursing, family death, but no other real content warnings for this chapter. It’s early days yet. Summary: A woman from a country Will has never visited shows up on his doorstep with the news that his father is dying and his entire life is about to change. (Please note, reader does NOT appear in this chapter!) Notes: You guys, Holly and I are LOVING how excited everyone has been to start this journey and here it finally is! The Freidlyn Fun Fact Ask Game is still going on and you can drop into my asks any time to chat about that the country Will is headed to or anything about the story at all! Just remember that we love questions because they help us world-build, but this is something that we’re doing purely for fun. Please leave your real-world politics at the door and embrace the fiction. 💖

There is no such thing as relaxing when one is forced to spend twelve straight hours traveling, regardless of how luxurious the airplane or car may be. Food never tastes right at forty-thousand feet and there is inevitably no chance to get truly comfortable. In Mademoiselle Minna Thorn's case, there had also been far too much work to do. Endless paperwork and communications, files to read and faces with which to familiarize herself. From the plane then to a hired car - a large and imposing thing with blackened windows and no sound inside such that the frame seemed to ride on an armored cloud. The two men with her, silent and formidable in their own rights, never spoke except to confirm the occasional detail in only as many words as necessary. Their tailored, black suits cut out any appearance of individuality in precisely the opposite way that Mlle Thorn's own black suit was very intentionally full of individuality.

The house on Gordon Street, in the small American town of Clinton, North Carolina, is nothing terribly remarkable. There is a lot of land here. Land to be built on and cared for. And a charming little house all made up in caramel wood tones and neat, white trim. It is modest and unassuming. A far cry from the palace she departed late last night to come here. Climbing three steps to the porch, Mlle Thorn smooths one hand down her skirt and takes a very deep, emboldening breath before pressing the doorbell. The truck in the driveway says the man she has come for is at home. Hopefully this will go much more smoothly than she fears. But probably not.

After a few moments, the door has still been unanswered. She tries once, twice more before a mumbled shout of "I'm coming!” is heard from beyond the front door. A tall, handsome, blonde man answers in nothing but a pair of plaid boxer shorts, a thin shirt and a scowl. “Can I help you?” He spits out harshly. It was too early for company, especially when he was expecting no one. The woman that had rung his doorbell looked shocked, to say the least, and he had no idea what she could have been trying to sell so early in the morning.

"Mr. Miller?" Mlle Thorn nearly hiccups, not expecting such an unruly greeting. "Monsieur William Anselm Miller?" He is exactly like his picture except for the goatee, which she has to admit becomes him nicely. Although the scowl it adorns is less than pleasing.

He’s confused by the formal greeting, but this poor woman did not deserve the rude introduction he gave as soon as he opened his door. “Uh, yeah…that’s me. I just go by Miller though. What can I do for you?”

"My name is Minna Thorn." Straightening even to her full height brings her nowhere near his, but the men flanking her on either side meet his bulk head-on. "This conversation is better had in private, sir. If you would be so kind as to invite us inside, my colleagues and I will be glad to explain to you the reason we have interrupted your morning." And the rest of your life, as well.

Suddenly panic-stricken at how serious she sounds and the memories of Colombia at the forefront of his mind, Will steps aside to let all three of them into his modest home. “Shit." His voice cracks. "Yeah, I can make more coffee and should probably put some pants on but come in. Did I…do something? Am I being arrested or questioned about something?"

"Very much the opposite, Monsieur Anselm." Though in America his name is legally Miller, that is not at all the name on his birth certificate. Inside the living room of his house, she takes her briefcase from one of the security personnel that has been standing just behind her and extracts a thick file folder. "You will, no doubt, recognize the name Klaus Anselm." If he does not, she will have a much longer conversation on her hands.

“Sure yeah, not a name I’ve heard in a while though.” He says as he quickly disappears into the tiny laundry room adjacent to the hallway and returns a moment later with a pair of gym shorts and Delta hoodie fresh from the wash. He has no idea who these people are, or why this woman has such an intimidating briefcase and more intimidating set of security guards behind her. “I’m sorry, but what’s going on?”

"Your father was involved in an automobile accident yesterday afternoon, at 16:00 local time." Mlle Thorn hesitates, swallowing a bit of bile at the words she has to say. It is...unthinkable. The measure of the tragedy that she has had to relate to multiple people since it occurred. She has barely had time to process it herself. "Also involved was your half-brother Frederick. Frederick..." Her voice waivers and she has to close her eyes momentarily to steel herself, but goes on. "Died on impact. But your father remains in hospital under close observation. Though you may guess, from our sudden appearance here, that the outlook is not a positive one."

Will chuckles, whether it’s from shock, confusion, or disbelief he isn’t sure. It takes a moment for him to gather his thoughts, “That is…not how I was expecting this morning to start, but I appreciate you coming to tell me.” He chews on his lip in thought before continuing, “but I didn’t have a relationship with either of them, and if I’m being totally honest, I didn’t even know Frederick existed. Mom never mentioned him and rarely talked about my dad. I’m confused.”

"In short?" Mlle Minna Thorn, all 1.6 meters of her in heels, looks up into the face of this very confused, very tired looking man and sighs gently. She feels that weariness down to her bones but for a very different reason. "Your father's physicians expect that he will pass out of this life before the end of today. So we have come to bring you home to Freidlyn. To your rightful place."

“My rightful place? Freidlyn? That tiny European country? Did the old man leave me a house there or something?” The more she speaks the more stress he feels. “Look, miss, I’m not trying to be disrespectful but what the hell is going on?”

"That tiny European country is without its crowned prince and within hours will be without its king." Mademoiselle Thorn does not have patience for beating around the bush if he is going to be rude, regardless of the apology. She can be straight to the point when the need arises. And it clearly does. "Like it or not, Monsieur Anselm, the job is yours." From the file she has placed on the counter, she extracts a piece of paper written in formal English, clearly detailing the line of succession and signed by the still-living King Klaus V. It was put into her hands just before she boarded the plane to fly to America, and she spent the better part of two hours simply staring at it after take off. "I have been in the service of your father the King for ten years and can tell you that this decision was made with sound mind, however ludicrous it may sound to you in this moment."

Will sighs. She’s joking. This is a prank. Pope and Catfish are behind this I’m sure. He smirks as he thinks about past pranks between his group of friends. He lifts his gaze to her eyes - stone cold, serious and piercing his soul. “Please tell me this is a joke. Me? An heir to a throne? Isn’t there like a cousin or something that can take the job? Ma’am I don’t know what you know about me, but I’m a vet that lives in North Carolina and works as a personal trainer. There is nothing about me that would make a good king. I don’t know shit about being a royal. I just found out I had a half-brother five minutes ago and now you’re telling me I’m supposed to be a king? Of an entire country.”

"If this were a prank, Your Highness, it would be in very poor taste." With a slight huff, the woman begins extracting and arranging a series of photographs from the file folder showing the royal family at different events, a photograph of a very young Prince (at the time) Klaus with his American college sweetheart, the same couple's wedding photograph, and another of that same young couple with their blue-eyed baby boy on the day he was born. William Felix Rainier Auguste Anselm. b. 24 July 1986. Hôpital Royal du Matin, Estligers, Freidlyn. the caption reads. "And since you asked, the next in line to the throne is your twelve-year-old cousin who only recently experienced his voice breaking for the first time."

If he didn’t know for a fact that he threw his alarm clock so hard this morning that the face cracked, he would have been convinced he was dreaming “Well, fuck,” he glances at all the photos - some of himself that he recognized from his mother’s mantle, others were completely new and intimidating to him. “What do I do? Do I just sign a dotted line and pack my stuff? Does Ma know this is happening? I have so many questions, and I’m still not fully awake, and I’m sorry if I was being a dick but you have to understand how weird and not normal this is for Americans. No one just knocks on someone’s door and says ‘hey you’re a king now!’”. He rambles, clearly overwhelmed. “First voice crack though, huh? Sucks for the little guy.”

"Your mother has been contacted. She is being offered the chance to return to Freidlyn temporarily if she chooses. To say goodbye to your father and to attend your brother's funeral." Grateful to see his exterior crack, Mlle Thorn slips a sheet of paper to the side of the landslide of photographs and pulls a pen from her briefcase to set on top of it. "Signing this paper will signify that you understand what I have told you today, and that you will be returning to Freidlyn to learn what is expected of you. Nothing more. God willing, we will arrive in the capital before His Majesty's passing and you will be able to speak with him yourself."

Will picks up the pen hesitantly before taking a deep breath and signing his name. “What the hell, let’s do it.” He laughs to himself, feeling nervous and unsure. “The guys are never gonna fuckin’ believe this.” He gently hands the expensive looking pen back to Miss Thorn. “There it is. I guess I pack my stuff now? Let Ma know we’re doing this and call out of work…forever.” He looks around the room for his cell phone, spotting it laying on the counter. A king. When Will was a child and was asked what he wanted to be when he grew up, he never imagined himself as a king - astronaut, stunt man, president? Sure. King? Never in his wildest dreams…but now his absolute reality. “Will I be getting some formal king training or something?”

"So to speak. There are historical and civic publications on the jet for you to familiarize yourself with some of your own history before we land, and of course I will answer any and all questions to the best of my knowledge and ability." Mlle Thorn signs her own name with a flourish underneath before handing the pen to one of the men still flanking her, who will sign as a witness to the first two signatures. Everything has many, many signatures. "Does your Highness own a black suit?" The question is hesitant, considering the incredibly casual clothing he is wearing, but she needs to know what she is working with here. "All black is required for the royal family during a period of mourning." It should be a relief to hear him accept the situation so easily, but she can tell the reality of the thing has not settled on him yet. After all, how could it? He had no idea... "With your permission, I can help you pack what is necessary for now, and embassy personnel will be given that same permission to pack the rest of your belongings in due time. From here on out, you will have as many helping hands as are required."

The idea of unlimited help intrigues him. “Cool, so you won’t just expect me to rule without having any formal training. Good to know, good to know.” Will is at a loss for words. Is he doing the right thing? What does he really have to lose? He already had so many missed opportunities, a failed relationship, among other disappointments he did not even want to consider - did they know about these? Did they know everything? Maybe this would be his chance to make up for the things he felt he couldn’t possibly amend for at one point or another in his life. “But, to answer your question about the suit - I, uh, no. I don’t. I have blue slacks and a few different button ups. I’ve never been a fancy type of guy, you know? This,” he gestures to himself, “is a typical look for me. The truck in the driveway has to come though. That’s my baby.”

"Arrangements will be made, your Highness." With the news given and that part of things out of the way, she can breathe slightly easier. The sleek cell phone from her pocket is instantly in her hand and her thumbs tap away gently. "I can have appropriate attire waiting on the jet and at the palace if you can provide me with your measurements. Please. The sooner we have you in the air, the smoother this will hopefully go." Hopefully. Hopefully.

Your Highness. That would take some getting used to. “Great," he smiles. "Well, here’s to the future king of Freidlyn, then.” he said, raising an empty coffee cup to toast.

"Long live Prince William." The words taste dry in her mouth, no matter how she should be proud to say them. Prince Frederick was an affable young man and the king is a well-intentioned, fatherly sort when the situation calls for it. To be of their same blood, this man surely cannot be so far off, but wishing long life on one brother when the other is not yet buried feels suffocating. Nevertheless, "Long live Prince William!" is echoed heartily by her two escorts, and she forces herself to smile briefly. "Your measurements, sire?"

******

By some unlikely miracle, when the helicopter touches down on the roof of Hôpital Royal du Matin and the final leg of their journey is completed, the king is still drawing breath. "This way." The petite Mlle Thorn leads the way through a mass of security personnel to the roof entrance of the hospital, knowing the route to the king's bedside will be lined by more armed men in black suits than even when she last left here. "Stay close to me or we may be separated." And lord what a disaster that would be.

If Will was overwhelmed before, this did not even compare. He had spent a majority of the flight learning the history of his family, his country, and what he should strive to be as a king, but nothing could prepare him for the frenzy of security detail and personnel as soon as he stepped off the helicopter. Before stepping inside the hospital Will paused and laid a tentative hand on Mlle Thorn’s arm. “What do I even say to him?” He’s nervous, knowing he doesn’t have much time, but wanting to know so much about who his father is on a personal level. He had asked his mother about him when he was a boy, but her avoidance had stifled his curiosity as he grew older and he just assumed it was not a civil separation. But now, after his extensive reading and the sights before him, he felt a sense of guilt for assuming the worst. His father was clearly loved and admired and now his time was rapidly dwindling. How could he possibly make up for thirty-five years of not having his father in the minimal time left?

Stopping in her tracks, she looks up at him with a soft near-sadness and sets her lips in a line that is neither a frown nor a smile. "I cannot tell you that." She admits quietly. "But...if he is able, please listen to what he has to say."

“Miss Thorn, I know we started off on the wrong foot, but thank you for this. That plane ride made me realize how much was kept from me, and now I can’t really blame my mom for keeping it a secret. I mean, knowing me I’d have told everyone and acted like even more of a dumbass.” He brushes his hands off on his thighs - not used to the new clothing. “I guess this is it.” He says as he stares at the daunting hospital suite door before quietly going inside.

"Will!" Sandra Miller has been sitting in this hospital room for hours now, wondering if this moment was finally going to happen. None of this was ever supposed to happen this way, of course, and the handkerchief in her hand is soaked through with guilty, regretful tears, but there's nothing she can do about that now as she stands to wrap her arms around her oldest son. "You...you made it."

“Mom, hey…” He says as hugs her. “What a day, huh?” She looks so small in this room, smaller than she normally does compared to his broad frame. “Look, I don’t want to talk about what conversations we did or didn’t have when I was growing up. That’s not important right now. Everything is changing and my head is about ready to explode with everything that’s happened over the last twelve hours.”

"We can talk about it later." She agrees, too tired from her own grief, guilt, and disbelief to argue the point with him right now. "Just...do you want me to leave so you can talk to your father?" The father he hasn't seen in thirty years and likely doesn't even remember. She hadn't even realized how much Will is the spitting image of Klaus until just now, in the moment she turns to look back at the man lying in the hospital bed whose hand she has been holding for the last four hours.

“I don’t know,” he whispers, looking at his mom with a sad, confused expression. He had truly never considered facing this moment in his entire life. At one point he had just convinced himself that his absent father had died already, but now here he was in the same room preparing to say hello and goodbye to the man he never knew. “Could you maybe wait outside? I don’t really know what to say, or how to even address him. I guess I just need a minute.” He says as he grabs the chair closest to his father’s bed.

He sits down slowly and stares at his shoes - shiny and new and elegant - three things he would not use to describe himself at all before looking at his poor father while he waits for his mom to leave the room. “Hi dad…it’s Will…”

"William..." The older man's accent is thick, having lost its crispness and sophistication over the last day and a half. His hand, attached by wires to one of the many beeping machines beside his bed, meekly reaches out but does not make it far. That he is losing his strength quickly now should be abundantly obvious to anyone who walks into this room - thankfully that number is limited. For now, all he can do is look at his elder son, his remaining son, with regret and sadness in his eyes. "I'm sorry, William."

“You don’t need to apologize. I spent my life not knowing you and I should have been more persistent with asking,” Will’s chest feels tight and he can feel the tears welling in his eyes. He’s never felt this sense of longing and sadness before. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for giving up and cursing who I thought you were. I will do right by you and do my best to live up to everything you’ve done here. Miss Thorn is great, by the way. I can see why you chose her to work for you. She…definitely knows her shit, and is going to keep me in line. I’ll make you proud.”

Klaus half-chuckles, making himself cough in the process. "Minna is a treasure," he admits readily. "But you - my son - you should not be sorry." Shaking his head, he adjusts slightly in the hospital bed and reaches for his son's hand, this time finding it more easily. "This was never to be your burden. Though it seems a destiny you could not avoid."

“I will not disappoint you, Dad. I will carry on your legacy with honor,” Will says as he squeezes his father’s frail hand. “I wish we had more time. There’s so much I want to tell you and so much I want to ask.”

"Tell me whatever you wish." Klaus squeezes back but barely, with what little strength he has left. Hours ago - hours and hours ago - from this very hospital bed, his staff helped him record words of advice and protocols in video recordings for William's use. He dictated memos and drafted declarations. He left things in as good a working order as he possibly could for the son he should have taken better care of. "But let me tell you first...that you do not have to do this alone."

“I haven’t been the best person. There are probably files about what I’ve done, people that I’ve hurt, and I regret all of the mistakes I’ve made. I’ve caused pain of horrific amounts for my own gain, but I won’t do that here. I just…want you to know that I’m going to try. And I’ll make sure mom and Miss Thorn whoop my ass if I mess up.” He chuckles through his tears, trying to lighten the mood.

"William, if you think kings are pure men, you are about to be rudely awakened." Klaus shakes his head slightly. "Yesterday is a lesson that teaches you what not to do tomorrow. What matters is that we try, each day, to be better. But–” When he coughs again he reaches for the small cup of water beside his bed. "Do not waste time. It is far too precious."

Will helps his father sit up a little and assists with holding his cup. “That makes me feel better, Dad. Thanks.” While Klaus gets comfortable, Will takes a long look at his father - at the man he wished he knew, and the man he would make proud, even after death. He sees the resemblance clearly, wondering what else he had inherited from him.

Dad. It almost breaks his heart a little to hear that one small word. Such an American title and one he entirely missed out on. Though he does not blame Sandy for being overwhelmed with royal life, he does wish he had been able to share more of it with his older son than simply sending gifts twice a year. "Surround yourself with people smarter than you, and listen to them." It was the best advice his own father had given him and he lived by it. By his own estimation - it was that philosophy that helped him find William's mother so many years ago. "I have left you as much as I can to...to help you."

The idea of being left a dying man’s advice tears at him, and Will pinches his eyes shut. “I don’t know if I can do this. I don’t want you to go. I just got here.” He openly cries now, a few tears escaping as he no longer sees the need to hide how he feels on top of everything else that has happened since he crawled out of bed this morning. “I think…I think I need mom to come back in if that’s okay,” he swipes at the tears in his eyes. “I think we need to be together right now…as a family.” He gently places his father’s hand down before carefully getting up and moving to the door. He peeks his head out to see his mom standing still against a wall, waiting. “Mom…I need you.” He cries softly, opening the door wide enough for her to come back in.

"Will, honey..." Sandy knows well enough that he can't be seen crying in a hospital or it will tip someone off as to what's happening, and she doesn't want reports of Klaus's death leaking prematurely. Nudging her son back inside the room, though, she realizes they would not be premature at all. The machines previously monitoring the weak readings of the Freidlych king's life have gone silent in the space of just a few seconds.

A rush of movement overtakes the room as a small handful of doctors and nurses flood the space and Minna Thorn is at the back of the group, shutting and locking the door behind her with a look of despondent sadness drawn over her features. A demonstrated effort to save the king's life must be made. It is not just a show or a tradition, but the law. Doctors and nurses - four professionals who know that what they are doing is hopeless - set to work trying to revive the man who has been slowly dying of sustained injuries for the last thirty-six hours.

When time of death is declared, Minna Thorn's slight frame shakes a little, but her voice is the only left in the room: "Long live King William."

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld

NA: @absurdthirst @peachtreemoonshine @xoxabs88xox @luminescentlily @babypink224221

My Masterlist!

#Charlie Hunnam #Charlie Hunnam character fanfiction #Charlie Hunnam fanfic #Will Miller #will miller x reader #Will Miller x you #Will Miller x female reader #William Ironhead Miller #Triple Frontier #Triple Frontier fanfic #Triple Frontier au #Princess Diaries AU #Freidlych For Life #Freidlyn #tw parent death

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musclesandhammering · 3 years

Text

“Sylki isn’t even a m/f pairing cause they’re both genderfluid!”

↘️ I really really wanted Loki to be canon genderfluid, but the problem with that is that in Ep 5, they do everything in their power to make both Loki and Sylvie seem Very Very cis. All the Loki’s straight up say they’ve never seen a female version of themselves, and Sylvie says that she was born a woman (and never shows any sign of presenting as anything else). Even if Ep 5 hadn’t happened, though, the only mention of anything gender-related is a little Easter egg in Loki’s file that says “Sex: Fluid”. Easily missed by a casual viewer, so not much confirmation at all.

“You’re biphobic if you have a problem with Sylki!”

↘️ Putting aside the fact that I’m actually bi myself… In real life, it’s totally valid for a bisexual person to only date the opposite sex, but on screen “Show, don’t tell.” is the golden rule. There are plenty of problems with Sylki other than the fact that it’s a m/f ship. However, it’s extremely frustrating for queer people to see the writers patting themselves on the back for giving us one (1) throwaway line that can be easily edited out for homophobic audiences, and then to see absolutely no further acknowledgment of Loki’s supposed attraction to men, along with him being shown openly flirting with 2 different women. It just seems awfully convenient to be able to tell and not show where m/m is concerned and then to show m/f where it isn’t even necessary.

“You just hate that a woman got in the way of your two white dudes kissing!”

↘️ If Sylvie was the main character and she had pretty good chemistry with a woman, and then all of a sudden a male variant of her was introduced and a romance was forced between them, I’d be pretty pissed about that too. I don’t want Sylvie out of the picture! My ideal scenario would be her and Loki being Chaos Twins. And I don’t even want Lokius to be canon! Again, my ideal scenario would be Chaos Twins with their best friend/handler Mobi. This isn’t about her getting in the way of another pairing, it’s about how this pairing in particular is just Not It.

“You just want Loki for yourself, you’d be mad at anyone he was paired with!”

↘️ No I… really don’t? I’m gonna get mauled for saying this, but I don’t even find Loki particularly attractive. Tom? Sure. But Loki? Mmmm… not exactly. Aesthetically pleasing maybe. Intellectually I know that he’s pretty hot, but he doesn’t do anything for me :/ I also really really hate reader inserts sooo yeah lol. And if you’ve seen my blog you’d know I ship him with a lot of people, both male and female.

“Sylvie is her own person so it’s not really selfcest!”

↘️ Except the writers have gone out of their way to make it clear that they are the same person. Not exactly the same, but they’re similar enough that it’s clear that they’re versions of each other. Plus they canonically have the same parents, very very similar DNA, and essentially the same basic origin (adopted, Asgard, etc). They’re not exact clones of one another but they very much are slightly different models of the same person.

“Selfcest isn’t the same as incest!”

↘️ No, it’s even worse lmao. Imagine two people that share parents, DNA, and some life experiences, but they’re even closer than twins…. Lol yeah.

“Ok but you gotta admit selfcest is pretty in character for Loki lololol”

↘️ No it’s not… One of my favourite things about Loki in all 6 movies is that he never had a love interest. Never even a hint of a love interest. And even in this show he makes it clear that he’s never really been in love before- never had anything “real”. And, this considered, people saying that it makes sense that his first and only canon love interest would be a version of himself implies that he’s incredibly narcissistic. Which, despite what some shitty writers try to tell us, he’s not. His narcissism is performative. It’s posturing. He’s incredibly insecure and self-loathing and that ends up manifesting as violence in some instances, and that’s his whole problem. The exact opposite of narcissism. Quite honestly, Loki would never trust or even like himself enough to be romantically interested.

“You just want Loki whump, you hate to see him happy!”

↘️ I do enjoy Loki whump on occasion, but at this point we maxed out on the whump meter about 3 movies back… I absolutely want this poor man to be happy, for once in his damn life. And the show gives us everything but that. Just like people said Ragnarok gave us a happy Loki, when in reality all we got was a humiliated Loki that was beaten down even further to build other characters up and give the audience a laughs… which is pretty much exactly what’s happening here. Not all the time! There’s some super progressive moments for his character development and mental health, but overall? The show isn’t giving us a happy Loki at all, and Sylki definitely hasn’t resulted in a happier Loki so far.

“They have great chemistry though!”

↘️ I’m sure any two characters could have good chemistry if the writing team put 85% percent of their effort for the whole show into squishing a man and woman together and making them kiss, even going so far as to build the plot around it, when they could’ve spent their time and energy improving other aspects of the series.

“Ok you have to admit the blanket scene was pretty cute!”

↘️ Yes, I will admit that! It was adorable actually! But given the myriad of issues I listed above, one cute scene isn’t enough to make me hate the ship any less.

#an anti sylki response handbook #anti sylki #anti sylvie #to an extent #it’s not even really anti sylvie but I know her stans are gonna burn me at the stake if I don’t tag it #loki series negativity #loki spoilers #anti loki series #loki series spoilers #lokius #kinda but not rly cause I don’t even ship them in canon #in fanworks absolutely but do I want it canon? nah #anyway…#I’ll just leave this here and go #wanna also say that if you ship sylki then great! good for you #this is just an extensive list of reasons as to why I don’t #and also why the commen pro s*lki arguments don’t work for me

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waitimcomingtoo · 3 years

Text

In Case You Don’t Live Forever

~chapter four rewritten~

Pairing: Peter Parker x Venom!Reader

Synopsis: you are Peter’s greatest love and Spiderman’s greatest enemy

Series Masterlist

After eating dessert and saying goodbye to May, Peter walked you to your room like a proper gentleman.

“You really don’t have to walk me home. I live right across that hall.” You teased him as you leaned against your door. You were glad he did, though. You wanted to spend every minute you could with him.

“I know, but I wanted to make sure you got in okay.” Peter said shyly. “You never know what dangers can be lurking in a hallway. Henry could’ve been around here and you and your feet would’ve been defenseless. You think I could live with myself if something happened to you?”

You laughed loudly and took your time unlocking your door, partially to extend your time together and partially to hide your massive blush.

“Thanks for dinner, Parker. I had a good time.” You said slowly as you fixed his collar.

“I had a moderately alright time.” He said nonchalantly. You laughed at his joke and shoved him a little.

“Fine. I had an amazing time.” He answered honestly. “We should do this again.”

The hope in his eyes knocked you out.

“Definitely.” You agreed. “But at my place next time.”

“Deal.” He stood there for a moment, just staring at you. You stared back, seeing the pale freckles on his nose and around his eyes. The longer you look at Peter, the better he got.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” Peter said finally. You sighed softly and looked him over.

Parting really is such sweet sorrow.

“Goodnight Peter.” You answered. You gave each other one more giggly smile before you closed the door, completely missing the victory dance Peter did in the hallway.

“Alright. You ate. Now it’s our turn. Let’s go eat some assholes.” Venom cheered once you were alone.

“You couldn’t have phrased that in a worse way.” You grimaced as you set your keys down.

“I mean, let’s go eat some men who are assholes.” Venom corrected herself.

“Alright alright. Let’s go.” You walked to the window. “But, they have to be a total asshole. We can’t just eat a dick.”

“And you think what we said was bad? Listen to yourself.” Venom retorted.

“I heard it. I meant we have to eat someone who is really, really bad. Not just some random jerk.” You defended.

“Whatever. Let’s go. Your liver is starting to look really, really juicy.” Venom warned. With that, you climbed out the window and prowled the streets of New York.

It wasn’t long before you found a man harassing a woman near a local bar. They were both tipsy, but she seemed drunker than he was. He kept putting his hands on her, despite her protests. Every time she tried to push him away, he’d only try harder.

“Come on baby.” He purred.

“Leave me alone. I don’t want you.” The woman slurred as she pushed him away.

“Yes you do. You wouldn’t have worn that tight dress if you didn’t.” The man said.

Ah yes, logic.

When she ignored his comment, he angrily pushed her against a wall and covered her mouth.

“Asshole?” Venom asked you.

“Asshole.” You confirmed. You and Venom did your usual tactic. You’d start off as you and kindly ask the gentleman to leave the lady alone. When all else fails, you became Venom and ate the bad guy.

You and Venom weren’t cold blooded killers. If a problem could be solved with words, you would do it that way. But there are a lot of bad men on the streets who don’t take no for an answer.

And you catch bad men.

You tore the man away from the lady and she ran away screaming when she saw you as Venom. Most people do. At least she was safe. The man on the other hand suddenly lost his tough guy stamina and resulted to begging for his life.

“Should we eat them?” Venom asked you, loud enough for the man to hear. You did that little thing when half your face was Venom and half your face was you.

People get a real kick out of it.

“No.” You cooed. “They probably taste terrible.”

The man cowered away, begging you to leave.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I won’t do it again.” He pleaded.

“I never much liked the taste of perverts.” Venom snarled.

“Me either. Plus, he’s so puny. He’s probably disgusting.” You agreed.

You were dragging the man along. He was definitely getting eaten, no doubt about it. At least, there was no doubt, up until you heard the sound of feet landing on the pavement behind you.

“Hey, big guy, didn’t anyone ever tell you that people are friends, not food?” A young, muffled voice sounded. Spider-Mans eyes grew comically wide when Venom turned around.

“What are you?” He gasped. You could hear the terror in his voice. Under his mask, he was probably trembling. He sounded so young and terrified.

“We…are venom.” You answered as you snarled at him.

Never gets old.

“Hi Venom.” Spider-Man took a step back in fear, legs shaking slightly. “I’m Spiderman.”

The man took this as an opportunity to get up and run. You quickly ran after him, but you were suddenly covered in a sticky white substance. It wrapped around your legs and you fell to the ground. From the floor, you could see the man getting away.

“I can’t take credit for that. I got that from this really old movie, The Empire Strikes back. It works every time.” Spider-Man panted as he ran over to you.

You decided you had enough of this and easily broke out of the sticky stuff. You grabbed the unsuspecting Spider-Man by the throat and lifted him up by his neck. You could hear the sounds of him choking through his mask, and looses your grip. You weren’t a monster, but you weren’t a superhero either. Spiderman had let a bad guy get away and you could only hope you scared him enough not to do it again.

“You let him go.” You growled as you got in his face. Spider-Man hit the hand around his throat in an attempt to break free, making Venom smile. His feet were dangling off the ground. He was defenseless.

“You can’t eat people.” He choked out, gasping for air.

“We can and we will.” Venom growled. “Since you let our dinner get away, looks like you’ll have to take his place. We hope you taste better than you look, Spiderman.”

“Please don’t eat me. I’m just a kid.” Spider-Man begged. Venom tried to keep going, but you pulled back.

“Venom, put him down. We can find someone else. We can’t eat this guy. He’s too young.” You said calmly and prayed Venom would listen. Spider-Man was right. He was just a kid. He had pissed you off, but that didn’t mean he had to die.

“We don’t want anyone else. We want him”. Venom answered. Spider-Man looked confused, seeing as he could only hear Venoms part of the conversation.

“Put him down. His suit probably tastes terrible anyway. Let’s go find someone else. How about we go find a smoker to eat? You know how much you love to eat smokers.” You argued as you felt her grip loosen.

“They taste like barbecue.” Venom replied, feeling her mouth watering.

“Let’s go.” You insisted. “He’s not worth it.”

“Fine.” Venom grouched and threw Spider-Man against a wall. Spider-Man began to cough and clutch his throat. Venom stormed over to him and grabbed his head, making him look at you.

“If you ever bother us again, we are going to eat both of your arms, then both of your legs, and then we are going to eat your face. Do you understand?”

“We?” was all Spider-Man could get out.

“We.” Venom repeated. “Me and my girl. She saved your life tonight. Don’t except it to happen again. Next time, you’re dead.” Venom warned. With that, you ran away into the night, leaving Spider-Man behind.

After eating a man you saw steal money out of multiple homeless peoples cups, you climbed up the apartment building and sat on the ledge of the roof. You transformed back into yourself and watched as the sun made its way up the horizon.

“What are you doing up here?” You heard a familiar Queens accent from behind you. You smiled immediately and turned around.

“Are you stalking me Parker?” You teased as a bashful smile broke across his face. He looked ethereal in the early morning sunshine so you bit your tongue to keep from giggling.

He was too damn cute.

“You’ve got it the wrong way around. I lived here first. This had been my spot for years now. You’re the one stalking me.” Peter remarked. His voice sounded horse, like he had strained it. He moved slowly, almost as if he was in pain, as he swung his legs over the ledge and took a seat next to you. Your thighs just barely touched, but enough to send sparks though your body.

“Is this really your spot? I’ll leave if you want.” You offered, but Peter put his hand on your shoulder to keep you from getting up.

“It’s our spot now.” He said matter of factly. The sun light up his profile and you could see how tired his eyes were. You wondered what late night adventures kept Peter Parker awake. Peter stared out into the New York City skyline and sighed with content. A gentle breeze blew his brown locks and ruffled your clothing.

Everything was quiet. Everything was good.

“Are you an orphan?” You blurted before smacking your hand over your mouth.

You almost jumped off the roof right there. And you probably should’ve. No, actually, Peter should’ve pushed you off. It’s what you deserved. Who the HELL asks someone you just met that question? Who asks that question at all? Does anyone even use the term “orphan” anymore? Is this Annie? All these questions swarmed through your head as your cheeks managed to burn the brightest shade of red they ever had. Peter snapped his head to you and tried to say something but you cut him off.

“I only ask because…well, I am.” You admitted. “An orphan, I mean. And I saw the pictures in your apartment with the candle and you kinda have that…orphan look to you. No offense! It’s not a bad thing either. I probably have the same look. Plus, you live with your aunt and I didn’t see anyone else come home. Of course, maybe they just weren’t home the one night I was over. Not that it’s any of my business anyway. I’m sorry I asked. It was a dumb, dumb question and I’m a dumb, dumb person and I-“

Your excessive rambling was cut off by a soft chuckles on Peters part. You looked at him confused as it wasn’t the response you expected.

“You’re not dumb. You took down Carlton Drake at 19 years old with no help. I wouldn’t call that person dumb. I’d call her brave, smart, even heroic.” Peter complimented you. “And all the best heroes are orphans. So to answer your question…there was a question in there somewhere right? I think so. Yes, I am an orphan. I live with my Aunt May. I used to live with my Uncle Ben too but he passed away.”

“Your uncle was Ben Parker.” You realized. “I should’ve known. May mentioned his name at dinner. I remember hearing about the shooting. All my friends and I created a club in school to protest the lack of gun regulation in America after that. I’m so sorry, Peter.”

“I really appreciate you doing that. I’m really upset over the lack of gun regulation too.” He was quiet for a moment. “My Uncle Ben used to write too. He was always trying to get me to write for the school newspaper. It wasn’t my thing though. I prefer taking pictures and videos. You’re a really good writer, Y/N. My Uncle Ben would’ve loved you.” Peter said earnestly. You smiled at Peter and scooted closer to him.

“Thank you for saying that. I bet I would’ve loved him too.” You told him. Peter looked down at his hands which were dangerously close to yours. You weren’t bold enough to hold his hand, though you desperately wanted to. Instead, you put your head on his shoulder and looked out at the sunrise. It was a simple, innocent gesture. You were both awkward and knew it. It was the safest thing you could do without something going terribly wrong. Peter rested his head on top of yours and sighed.

“I didn’t know you were an orphan.” He said softly, not wanting to disturb the peace. You nodded, still nestled in his neck.

“My mom died a few minutes after giving birth to me.” You opened up to him, something you hadn’t done with anyone before. “I’m not sure what went wrong but they had to do an emergency C-section. I survived, but she didn’t.”

You got quiet for a moment.

“She never even got to hold me.”

“I’m sorry Y/N.” Peter whispered. He gingerly laced his fingers with yours. You watched as he did it and didn’t try to stop him.

“It’s weird.” You shrugged. “I never knew her, but I miss her everyday. I wish we could’ve had a conversation. Just one would be enough.” Your mom wasn’t something you often talked about. It was too painful to relive the past so you hadn’t even told Andy the full story.

But you felt safe with Peter.

“You don’t have to have known her to miss her.” Peter insisted. “I bet she misses you too and she never met you either.”

“What were your parents names?” You changed the topic as you rubbed his hand softly with your thumb.

“Richard And Mary. Richard and Mary Parker.” He answered proudly. “I write them letters all the time. I put them in an envelope and everything. Then I put them in a box in my closet. I like to think the read them.”

“I bet they do.” You told him while squeezing his hand gently. In that moment, you could’ve sworn he was yours. Like you were an actual couple that had been through hell and back together. Like you’d know him all my life. Peter looked you in the eyes and for the first time, someone really saw you.

The real you, and he didn’t turn away. His brown eyes stared right down into your soul. You felt insecure suddenly, your soul wasn’t a pretty place to see. Certainly not pretty enough for Peter Parker. But Peter didn’t seem to mind.

You got this feeling all the sudden, this feeling that told you you and Peter were meant to meet. That you were always meant to be in each other’s lives. To protect and love each other, like real people do. Peter didn’t feel like a stranger. He wasn’t someone you met on accident. You were destined to be. Just be. No matter what you were. This rooftop didn’t feel like a place you’d never been before. This rooftop felt like home. And Peter made it feel that way. Or maybe it wasn’t the rooftop that felt like home, it was just Peter. Your cheeks burned up when you realized what was happening. Your heart fluttered and your lungs felt like they were in fire.

You knew it. Every fiber of your being knew it. All your senses came alive at once and in that moment, on that rooftop, your heart looked into Peters and said those two words,

“Welcome home”

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker imagine #peter parker x venom!reader #venom!reader #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland fluff #iron man #tom holland fanfiction

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talkingharrystyles · 2 years

Note

The cracks in the stand in my opinion first started when the timeline of Jason and Olivia‘s break up and her and Harry’s “relationship“ first started to get a lot of attention and people were really questioning it instead of Harry putting out a statement through a source to say that nothing like that ever happened he put out a statement the resource basically throwing her under the bus and calling him blameless. That’s when I’ll personally knew that this relationship was not real. If he really cared he wouldn’t have said anything or he would’ve tried to defend her through sources. Fact the fact that he was so quick to read himself of any of the negative attention coming his way was telling that this wasn’t real. More cracks started to show once Italy happened. I think during that time before Italy while they’re in London I think Harry tolerated her I don’t think he had a huge issue with her but you can definitely see things start to shift in Italy because I personally don’t think he thought she was going to be there and his vacation and his time off was completely ruined and his own little oasis which is Italy was kind of taken away from him because he had two bites when Jasons GQ article came out and basically confirmed what we all knew what was true that Ogre and Jason did break up in November 2020 and not early 2020 like she said I think that’s when shit hit the fan. If you really wanted to which we all have you can go through the timeline and see the pictures and the way they were talking about each other in interviews and they didn’t break up in early 2020. It’s also a telling sign that the day after the GQ article came out Olivia was seen at the airport going home and Harry then went into hiding for about a month and we didn’t see him until he got to LA and Ogre also too went into hiding. That’s the significant change in you can really start to see his obvious distain for her. And like that anon is sad I think Ogre is playing the short term game or Harry’s playing the long-term one. I think when you are someone like ogre who has never been extremely famous, has always been famous for the men that she’s been with and has never been an actress who was talented or was talented enough to get roles and someone despite having a lot of connections just could never get anything this time in your life is very exciting because this is the most famous that she has ever been and we have the statistics to show it. You think of a lot of other actresses in her age group who are extremely acclaimed and talented and you have her and she’s someone who is known for being known. She likes the fame the notoriety the fact that people are talking about her whether it’s positive or negative she loves it. What she doesn’t understand is Harry’s fans and the media are very very good at building up girlfriends and then when the time is up and the break up happens they make it a point to go dig every single thing that she’s ever done in her life and it’s going to be under A magnifying glass. I don’t think Ogre understands that once the break up article do come out fans won’t really care about her anymore. We all know that this new album is not about her and it’s all about Harry’s time in quarantine and even before quarantine but they aren’t going to care about her. Once this movie is over she won’t have any type of connection to her anymore so people are going to stop caring about her. It happens with every single one of his ex girlfriends except for Camille because he wrote an entire album about her and it was very clear that fine line was mainly about her. Harrys team aren’t doing anything because they are doing the bare minimum to show Harry participating in this stunt because when it does come to the break up we all know the narrative that’s going to be played no matter how Ogre tries to spin or what type of narrative she tries to use the evidence is clear That she was the older woman who dropped everything and everyone for the younger guy who ended up dropping her in the end.

👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻

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fanficshiddles · 3 years

Text

Dangerous Night, Chapter 25

The following morning, it was time to meet the possible new buyers.

Everyone turned up as planned, except for Freddie. For obvious reasons. But the possible buyers weren’t too happy that their friend wasn’t there.

‘Where is Freddie?’ One of them asked.

‘Unfortunately, Mr Hamid is unable to join us this morning, he drank too much last night and is sleeping it off at home. We had one of our men go round to check on him, but he is in no state to be present. I hope this won’t affect our meeting?’ Melissa said sweetly as she gently took the older man’s elbow and started guiding him into the meeting room.

‘Of course not.’ He laughed and patted her hand. ‘Typical of Freddie to drink too much, idiot child.’

Melissa looked over at Jonathan, who winked at her and gave her a sneaky thumbs up. She grinned and headed on in with everyone.

Jonathan took lead with the discussions mainly, Melissa joined in too now and then. Roper took a back seat and was letting them take over now. But he was impressed with them both so far, and surprised with how well Melissa was taking to it all.

Even with the absence of Freddie, they managed to seal the deal with no problem at all. Once the new buyers left, Jonathan grabbed Melissa into a big hug and kissed the top of her head. ‘So proud of you, lovely. This deal is a big one.’

‘Proud of you too.’ Melissa beamed up at him.

Jonathan smiled and leaned down to kiss her.

‘Get a room you two.’ Roper chuckled and patted Jonathan on the shoulder. ‘You are a good couple, business wise too. Well done the both of you.’ He winked at Melissa.

‘What would you like to do?’ Jonathan asked as he slid his arm around Melissa when they walked out. ‘Anything at all, just name it.’ He purred.

‘I want to go horse riding around the pyramids!’ She said, fluttering her eyelashes up at him.

Jonathan raised an eyebrow. ‘Not quite what I had in mind…’

But he could never resist her pleading eyes.

So a few hours later, they were riding beautiful Arabians across the dessert, passing by the pyramids. Corky, Carol and Jed joined them.

Melissa made sure to take plenty of pictures and asked their guide to take loads too.

Everyone couldn’t stop laughing when Corky’s horse started bucking in excitement when they had a canter along the sand, luckily he managed to stay on and didn’t end up eating sand.

After returning to the stables, Melissa was taking time stroking her horse before heading off. Jonathan joined her and put his arm around her waist.

‘So beautiful.’ Melissa hummed.

‘Why thank you.’ Jonathan grinned and squeezed her side.

Melissa looked up at him with an eyebrow up, making him chuckle. ‘Oh, you mean the horse? Yeah, I guess he is beautiful too.’ He shrugged.

Melissa laughed and nudged him with her hip, then turned to him and slipped her hands around his arm. ‘Come on, my handsome stud, let’s go back to the hotel so you can wine and dine me.’

‘Of course, m’lady.’ He grinned and they headed back to the awaiting car.

When they returned to the hotel, Roper was outside with Frisky, just finishing a phone call.

‘Everything alright?’ Corky asked.

‘Yeah, I was just confirming with our buyers from this morning that all is still ok. Freddie Hamid’s body was found in his swimming pool this morning…’ He glanced at Jonathan. ‘Police said an accident, he was drunk and high on drugs and drowned.’

‘Oh, that’s a shame.’ Melissa said passively as she tightened her hold on Jonathan’s hand briefly.

‘Indeed.’ Jonathan nodded.

‘He was an idiot and a liability half the time anyway.’ Corky scoffed.

Roper looked at Jonathan again with a knowing look. But just gave him a nod as they all headed inside. It wasn’t like Jonathan was the first of the group to kill another man for flirting with one of their girls.

‘Woah calm down, lovely.’ Jonathan chuckled as Melissa seemed over eager on getting them both to their room, swiftly dragging him away from the others.

She practically hauled him into the lift, quickly pressing the button for their floor. Then she wrapped her arms up around his neck and went up on her tiptoes to try and get closer to him.

He slipped his arms around her and dipped his head down to kiss her, chuckling against her when she slipped her tongue eagerly into his mouth. Though he was more than happy to reciprocate.

The doors pinged open on their floor and Melissa grabbed his hand, pulling him down the corridor to their room.

‘What’s gotten into you, hmm?’ Jonathan asked as he opened the door with the card key.

As soon as they got into the room and the door was shut, Melissa was down on her knees on front of Jonathan, palming at his cock through his trousers, making him groan.

She was quick to unbuckle his belt and open his zip, getting him free. She licked her lips and leaned in straight away, licking up the length of him. He reached down and gripped her hair tightly, moaning loudly as she began sucking him.

‘Ohhh, fuck yes.’ Jonathan moaned and had to resist the urge to fuck her mouth roughly. It felt far too good with the way she swirled her tongue around his cock and took him as deep as she could, gagging on the size of him.

Melissa soon felt the usual signs that he was about to cum, the way his cock started throbbing mere seconds before he erupted straight down her throat. She swallowed him, still working her tongue on the underside of his cock, dragging out his orgasm that had him moaning and grunting above her, he was almost unable to keep himself standing as his knees turned to jelly.

‘Holy shit.’ He hissed, sweat dripping down his forehead.

Melissa got up to her feet, licking her lips and quickly removing her jeans and knickers together. Jonathan stepped closer to her and tugged at her t shirt, lifting it up and off when she raised her arms. Then he turned her around and unfastened her bra.

‘How did you do it?’ She blurted out when he moved in behind her and reached round to start palming at her breasts.

‘Do what?’ He asked as he bit down on her shoulder.

‘Kill Freddie… Did you choke him with your bare hands? Did he struggle?’ She asked as she reached up to place her hands over his, he was just cupping her breasts and moving his thumbs over her nipples, making her whimper.

The realisation hit Jonathan like a ton of bricks. His cock hardening again very quickly as he pressed against her backside.

He chuckled wickedly against her shoulder and worked up to her neck, sucking and nibbling. Then he made her gasp as he unexpectedly pushed her forward onto the bed, she landed on her hands and knees, but he was quickly on her and with a hand at the back of her neck he forced her down flush on the bed.

Moving between her legs, while keeping a firm hold at the back of her neck, he pressed his cock against her soaking wet entrance and firmly thrust into her, making her moan into the pillow. He started thrusting into her roughly as he leaned down to nibble her earlobe.

‘I dragged him into his own pool, then held him down under the water by the neck, just like this.’ He growled into her ear, squeezing her neck to make a point that made her clench hard in arousal around his cock.

She whined and squirmed under him as he continued thrusting into her.

‘Nobody touches what’s mine and gets away with it.’ He groaned, as once again she clenched around him, his words and actions turning her on so badly.

He wasn’t surprised when he felt her cumming already around him. But he didn’t let up. Instead, he moved up a bit, taking her with him so she was pulled up onto her hands and knees, he slid his hand round to the front of her neck and squeezed slightly.

‘Because you belong to me, don’t you, pet?’ He thrust deep into her and remained there, just moving his hips in circles to grind against her, making her eyes roll back in her head as she let out a garbled response, making him chuckle.

Jonathan chased his own release again, this time finishing in his favourite place. Deep inside her, where he was meant to be. Marking her on the inside.

Melissa collapsed underneath him, causing his cock to slip out of her. He gently turned her over, she had a blissful look on her face as she ran her hands up and down his arms.

‘You did that for me, even though he was an old acquaintance.’ She whispered.

Jonathan leaned down and nuzzled her nose with his. ‘Of course I did, lovely. If even Corky dared to harm you, I wouldn’t even hesitate. I would do anything for you. You are my world, I will not let anyone hurt you.’ He said honestly.

Melissa smiled widely and put her arms around his neck as she kissed him.

#Jonathan Pine #Tom Hiddleston #Jonathan Pine x OFC #Jonathan Pine x original female character #fan fiction #dangerous night

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tuulikannel · 3 years

Text

Translations of the group chats in the character book, p. 180-184

Okay, this got done faster than I assumed! Anon asked for the translations of pages 180-184 of the “Roll Book Time”, here you are. This was a fun way to procrastinate instead of doing stuff I should be doing. xD

This one needs a big disclaimer, though. I’m not good with slang expressions and the kind of colloquial language teenagers use. ^^; This was excellent practice though and I learned a lot, but I’m far from certain of every little thing. So if you spot mistakes, don’t hesitate to tell me. I want to know if I got something wrong. (The third one’s been translated before by ansatsu database, so that I was able to crosscheck. I decided to do it too, cause it connects to the second one.)

Also, I left the time stamps in the translations in those cases were they actually matter. ^~ The last one is my favorite, I think. xD

Korosensei: The roguish Terasaka-kun has become the center [of this group]. This is everyone in the Terasaka group. Seems like they’re in disagreement over the pre-exam slithery study cram sessions.

One day in June

Group name: Ore-sama & co

Receiver (whose account this is seen from): Terasaka

Members: 4

11:57 Terasaka: What will we do about that octopus? Isn’t it really embarrassing and uncomfortable?

12:35 Taisei: What’s embarrassing?

12:36 Terasaka: The pool that octopus made Let’s blow it up!

12:48 Muramatsu: We're not listening to the octopus, right? [the verb here is in kana and not kanji, so it could be something else than listen, but anything else makes even less sense]

12:49 Taisei: There’s that

12:49 Muramatsu: We’re far from others in our class though

12:50 Terasaka: Huh? Are you chickens?

And aren’t you guys’ reactions way slow here?

13:01 Hazama: Say, what’ll we do about the slithery thing?

13:01 Taisei: Supplementary lessons are crap, but going once is ok, right?

13:02 Terasaka: Hey! Didn’t we agree to avoid those

We’re talking about the slithery stuff here you know

13:10 Hazama: But I hear it seems good

13:11 Taisei: Yeah, Hara said that too

13:11 Muramatsu: Oh, I wonder if that’s true

Korosensei: Somehow, boys are excited to talk about girls. They’re just being boys, right…

One day in October

Group name: Project Itona strategic headquarters

Receiver: Okajima

Members: 11

Okajima: Today’s tank… that was risky

Hiroto: It turned into something outrageous

Itona: Your thoughts were helpful Thanks

Okajima: By the way how is it, Itona!? Do you like any of the girls?

Itona: Yada Touka

Hiroto: That’s easy to understand… ^_^;

Okajima: I know the feeling… my favorite recently has been the tsundere princess ❤️

Hiroto: Hayami? Except for her *** Isn’t the slender type your thing

Itona: Slender at first look, but there are also good things

Okajima: As expected, Itona gets it. What about you Maehara?

Hiroto: Me? Actually during the assassination trip, I got close to this girl who happens to live nearby. These days she’s been the one.

Okajima: Damn you… had the nerve to do your thing

CHIKURIN (Ritsu): Hey you all, don't forget my existence ( ` ・ω・ ´ )

*** I don’t know what Maehara is saying there about Hayami. Simple sentence but it beats me. 速水か以外だな Hayami ka igai da na = Hayami (question particle) ‘expect for’ ‘be’ (particle used to soften the expression of emotion, desire, assertion etc.)

(also, a linguistic note for anyone interested: learned a way to “swear” in Japanese. Okajima used there at the end the auxiliary verb yagaru, which was quite interesting)

Korosensei: Oops, is this only for girls… This isn’t at all just to satisfy curiosity. Sensei just wants to understand the students’ feelings. Being a teacher through and through.

One day in October

Group name: 3-E girls-only assembly

Receiver: Yada

Members: 13

Kayano: For real! Have men nothing but porn in their heads

Yada: Seems to be so~

Kayano: Oh I just can’t ( ` 3 ´ )

RIO: Now now, aren’t you getting angry over trivial things By the way, hasn’t Yada-chan’s chest grown bigger yet? ^_^

Yada: Huh? You’re just imagining things…

Rio: This is girls only, no need to be hiding

Yada: Really there’s no such thing… (>_<)

RIO: Kayano-chan went really quiet (> 艸<)=3

Yada: Kaede-chan!? I’m saying that’s not true!

Ritsu: This is just visual measurement and I have no exact numbers, but I can confirm that it’s bigger than before. ♪

RIO: Ho, really!? Good job, Ritsu!! 👍

Ritsu: I’m happy to have been of help. ˇvˇ

Yada: Ritsu! Don’t talk too much! Kaede-chaan!!

Korosensei: Nyaa? Sensei has been excluded from this network…!! And this is the stuff you see there…

One day in November

Group name: 3-E’s teachers contact network

Receiver: Bitch-sensei

Members: 2

23:18 Karasuma: The Japanese government has called up a meeting. I’ll be gone a few days, please keep an eye on things.

23:19 Irina: I see, have a good trip All will be done properly here. *

11/4

13:13 Irina: Today’s peaceful too, how’s it going there? Isn’t it lonely when you can’t see me? ˇзˇ

11/5

21:50 Irina: Heey Karasuma, how are you doing? ' з - ♡ Here’s a prize for you for your hard work 💋

(picture)

How’s that? Excited? ❤️ I bet you want to see me now 💞

11/6

9:54 Irina: Nagisa’s mother is coming to meet the homeroom teacher. It’s a big fuss. I said I could take your place but I was turned down.

9:55 Karasuma: I was also contacted here. I’m saying this just in case, but be very careful

* I find it a bit funny that the word that Irina uses, tekitou, has two meanings: 1) suitable; proper; appropriate; adequate 2) perfunctory; half-minded; sloppy; careless; irresponsible

I think it’s also noteworthy that she wrote it there in katakana and not in kanji. In my experience, words are written in kana when they’re used for the colloquial meaning… so I wonder exactly what were you saying there, Bitch-sensei? xD

( Masterlist of my translations )

#assassination classroom #assclass #korosensei #terasaka gang #nakamura rio #kayano kaede #yada touka #karasuma tadaomi #irina jelavic #horibe itona #rio nakamura #kaede kayano #tadaomi karasuma #itona horibe

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sitaarein · 3 years

Text

None Stand Equal In This Dark World

A/N: Officially my largest ever fic so please. Just read it and be nice sob because I’m kinda proud of some of it

Written for @grishaversebigbang 2021!!!

Corporalki: @homicide-depot

Materialki: @generalnabri (x), @kolarpem (x), @aivicart (x), @maximumbluebirdpatrol , @niadrawing (x)

(Summary: A murder mystery AU featuring Zoyalai, twists and turns, moral dilemma, and then some more

Read on AO3

Chapter One

The apartment door was wide open.

In retrospect, that alone should have set off the alarm bells in Zoya’s head. No one left the door to their place wide open. She can’t imagine why she simply dismissed it.

Scratch that, she knew why. She’d been tracking this idiotic Grisha for a month now. She was tired and desperate.

But it appeared that- who would’ve thought- not being at the top of your game has consequences.

Consequences like staring down a man who’s been tied to a chair and gagged in the middle of, what Zoya guesses is, the lounge, eyes wide with terror.

Zoya is mad at herself for not managing to guess it was a red herring- the damn door - and very, very mad at the Grisha who has, once again, slipped right through her hands.

She nods to one of her men, and he immediately drops to the man’s level to untie and presumably interrogate him. Zoya doesn’t stick around for the details- she trusts her people to give her good reports. Instead, after a cursory look around, she tips her head back to face the ceiling, taking in a deep breath, and leaves the apartment.

The weather outside took a dramatic turn in the fifteen minutes she was inside- it had been sunny before, or at least as sunny as Ravka ever could get. But now, the sun has all but ceased to exist, and the bitter cold is back once more.

Zoya prefers the cold.

(She doesn’t, not really, but no one needed to know that.)

Zoya starts walking, pulling her coat tighter around herself. Her mind races, trying to connect all the dots, trying to figure out where her investigation had gone wrong. Start from the beginning. Don’t miss anything. The most minor of details are the most important.

The beginning. A woman showed up to their headquarters about her missing family. Those cases were usually dismissed completely, handed over to the police forces- Zoya’s force was Grisha-centric, other cases, no matter how large or important they were, did not concern them. But this case was different.

The woman was Grisha.

Her family weren’t, evidently- and neither did they know that she was. They’d been missing for six weeks, and the odds were pretty heavily stacked against them still being alive. The woman was detained (she was Grisha, this was Zoya’s job ) and a group of officers were dispatched for a search and rescue.

The officers never returned.

Alarm bells were now ringing, and the General assigned Zoya to the case. In the time since she officially took over, twenty more disappearances were documented, and all of them in Os Kerva alone. Saints knew what was happening in the rest of the country.

But Zoya had never believed in Saints, so she found out what was happening in the rest of the country.

The total number of disappearances in all of Ravka that had this case’s signature mark- an eclipsed sun left wherever the victims were seen last- was an estimated three thousand . Zoya couldn’t believe no one had connected the dots before her. Then again, the entire of the force were filled with incompetent idiots, so maybe it shouldn’t have surprised her.

The series of events . Zoya travelled up and down the country with the best of her underlings, talking to anyone who knew the victims, searching their last known places with tooth combs, building up working hypotheses, using all the resources they had available. Zoya was not an idiot. She knew exactly how capable she was.

And she also knew when she was fighting a losing battle.

And so, when she got a call from one of her top detectives about a confirmed Grisha she’d been trailing for some time now who’d begun suspicious activity, she was clutching at straws and willing to take anything that came her way. She met up with her agent, and a few days later, they got the address of the apartment she was currently pacing in front of.

The present . This part could be summed up fairly quickly. Zoya is, once again, at a fucking dead end .

Before she can kick something (or someone) out of frustration, A faint ringing reaches her ears, and frowning, Zoya stops in her tracks. Her phone is never not on silent. Calling Zoya Nazyalensky for anything was utterly pointless- she never picked up.

But the GIA has ways of getting into contact with its members regardless.

Muttering a curse, Zoya digs around her pockets, looking for the infernal device with its grating, high-toned ringing. Finally locating her phone, she jabs the answer button without looking at the caller ID.

“Yes?” she asks bluntly.

“Zoya,” Alina’s voice greets her.

Zoya immediately forgets everything that had been on her mind. When Alina calls, it’s rarely for a friendly chat.

“What’s wrong?”

“You need to get back here. As soon as possible.”

“Understood. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

Alina hangs up immediately, and Zoya pockets her phone, mind racing.

She orders one of her lackeys to send her a report when they're done, grabs the keys for the van they’d used to get to the apartment from a rather distracted officer, taking off.

Zoya reaches the Grisha Investigation Authorities in approximately half the time she’d given to Alina, and she may or may not have disobeyed quite a few traffic laws to get to her destination as quickly as she did, but that was frankly unimportant.

She strides through the doors, not bothering to acknowledge the many who’ve halted their paths to nod to her or, in the case of a few particularly stupid (or courageous, however you wanted to see it) people, attempt to strike up a conversation with her. She didn’t break her pace even once, until she’d reached the door to the meeting room they usually used to meet up for serious issues. After taking a moment to compose herself, Zoya pushes the door open.

Inside, she finds all of her fellow Commanding Officers assembled- Adrik, Leoni, Alina, and Genya. Frowning, Zoya scans their faces, and mentally shifts whatever’s happening even higher on her scale of terrible shit to take care of immediately.

Because not even Leoni, who can find positivity at a funeral, is smiling right now. There’s barely a hint of her optimistic and eternally cheerful personality in her countenance.

Zoya carefully takes the seat left for her around the circular table. Her gaze flits from one worried face to another, and she decides to be direct.

“How bad is it?”

The question seems to jolt Alina out of her reverie. She looks up, and Zoya feels her breath catch, because she looks so… helpless. Terrified.

Genya takes it upon herself to answer Zoya’s question with another question, her mouth set in a grim line. “How’s your investigation going?”

“We lost the suspect,” Zoya admits, her earlier frustration returning with the reminder of the infernal case. “We’re right back to where we started- but without the hope and the general idea of where to start.”

“I’m not surprised,” Adrik mutters. “Considering who your delightful suspect is…”

Zoya furrows her brow, and glances back at Genya. “Explain.”

Genya looks as if she would rather do anything else, but after coming to the realisation that no one else is about to, she sighs and does so.

“I’m presuming you remember Alina’s case that went cold about two years back?”

A little too well. Even years later, that case haunts her- the truly horrific killings, from corpses with their body parts stuffed down their throats, to children who had clearly been still alive when burnt, the utter dead ends, Alina’s far too close brush with death, and… the person behind it all.

“You don’t think it’s the same person??” Zoya demands, horror spreading through her veins. She can not handle another Kirigan.

In lieu of replying, Genya nods to Leoni, who pushes forward a large envelope. Dread pooling in her gut, Zoya opens the package to find pictures from Alina’s investigation.

“We revisited these when your disappearances started,” Genya says. “And… found more similarities than we’re frankly comfortable with.”

Zoya shifts the photos around, and then freezes at one, having caught sight of a mostly blurry but still distinctive calling card. “That’s…”

“The eclipsed sun,” Adrik provides grimly. “You’re screwed.”

“Hey, now,” Leoni protests. “We don’t know that.”

Adrik snorts. “Don’t we? Need I remind you of the damage this person wrecked to the GIA and our country?”

“How do we know this isn’t just a copycat?” Zoya breaks in. “None of the bodies of the victims this time around have been discovered,”

“Copy cats still tend to have their own twists on kills, a signature, a mark that’s theirs. While none of the killings for either case have many similarities, they also don’t vary in terms of said signature.” Genya says.

“Killers are proud creatures,” Adrik inputs.

“And this one’s no exception,” Leoni says, eyes grim.

Zoya looks up. “What do you know?”

Leoni hesitates, but then gives in. “We got a note this morning. A photocopy should be in the envelope too.”

Zoya overturns the envelope, and sure enough, a piece of paper falls out. She picks it up, reads it, and crumples it up.

“You’re sure this isn’t a stupid joke?”

“It was in the Director’s office.” Leoni says.

Shit. Zoya glances back down at the crumpled mass she’s still clutching. You will burn on your mistakes. What mistakes?

She ignores the faint voice in the back of her head. You know what mistakes.

Zoya takes a deep breath, focuses her thoughts, and then exhales. “How’s the Director doing?”

“He’s terrified.” All of the COs seemed to be equally startled to see Alina was the one to speak. Her mouth is set in an angry line, and Zoya can guess the track of her thoughts, because they were the same ones that had crossed her mind upon hearing the words- who is he to be terrified? What right did the Director even have to feel scared, when he himself never so much as interacted with the cases???

Adrik sighs, leaning back in his seat. “Which is what has led us to our current predicament.”

“And what do you mean by that?”

Genya exhales in a huff. “He wants the Mentals on this case along with all of us.”

“He what.”

Alina, lips twisted in a sardonic smile, gestures to nothing in particular. “You heard correctly.”

“Why ??? This is my case, and I will handle it.”

“He doesn’t want a repeat of the bad press that came with my failing last time, I’m guessing.”

“Bad press,” Zoya spits out. “I wonder how much bad press he’ll get when I-”

“Do not,” Genya warns. “This could be helpful to us.”

But also a personal disgrace , Zoya finishes the sentence in her head. The Mentals were practically a legend of the GIA- they were special, elite investigators, a whole mix of people ranging from scientists to- if the rumors were correct- ex-spies, who ended up with the cases no one else in the force could solve, and somehow, without fail, solved each of them within a week at the least.

It was irritating as hell.

And having them assigned on your case meant that the Director did not trust you to be successful on your own.

Absolutely wonderful.

“So when are these... spectacular detectives arriving?” Zoya asks.

Genya opens her mouth, and then closes it, before starting, “Well-”

“I hope I’m not too late to this marvelous party?”

Zoya swivels to see who this truly abnormally cheerful person is, and then blinks. She turns back to face the others once more- Adrik still looks glum, Leoni is smiling her most polite smile, Alina seems to have perked up and Genya is genuinely smiling. They all look… unsurprised.

Of course they were hiding more secrets up their sleeves.

“ What,” Zoya finally breaks and asks. “Is the damned PR guy doing here?”

The aforementioned PR guy pouts. “Is that really what I’m known for around here? My PR duties? That’s quite depressing. Why would you focus on that when you could talk about my stunning good looks, or my undeniable charm, or even my ability to-”

“Nikolai,” Alina interrupts. “Shut up.” she looks at Zoya, a hint of dry amusement in her eyes.

“Zoya, this is Nikolai Lantsov, and he is indeed our PR guy, but he’s also… head of the Mentals.”

Zoya blinks. He’s what??? And then, wait… they knew who the special investigators were? How long have they known? Why was I not informed?

She doesn’t voice any of her thoughts, choosing instead to stare, unimpressed, at the blond, who grins at her in response.

“If I had known you possessed such astounding grace and beauty, Miss Nazyalensky, I would have made your acquaintance sooner! I’m sure these upcoming days will prove to be an absolute pleasure, provided I get to spend them in your delightful company.”

“Saints save me,” Zoya utters faintly. “The Director assigned an idiot to my case.”

“Hey, now!” Nikolai protests. “You haven’t even met the rest of my team yet!”

“An idiot who talks too much,” she deplores.

Genya and Alina both snort at that. In fact, all of her fellow COs seemed to be taking far too much pleasure in this situation. Zoya hates all of them.

“Well, now that we’ve gotten the pleasantries out of the way,” Nikolai says, to which Zoya distinctly hears Adrik mutter “pleasantries?” under his breath, “I think now would be a wonderful time for me to introduce you to my brilliant team,”

Genya sits up immediately, looking eager. Zoya wonders what that’s about.

She finds out fairly quickly.

Nikolai ushers in a group of people, and she recognises one in particular, one who she has, in fact, known since her college years -

David. Genya’s husband, David Kostyk, is a part of the Mentals. Harmless old David. Zoya can’t believe her eyes.

She scans the rest of the group, but the others barely seem familiar. The two Shu right in front of David look similar enough to be twins, apart from the height difference. Right next to David is a woman that, with a jolt, Zoya recognises as Adrik’s sister from what she’s heard and seen of her. Bringing up the rear is a man who vaguely resemblesNikolai himself, ducking his head shyly as he enters the room.

“Now that your merry party is all assembled,” Adrik says glumly. “Any ideas where to start?”

“Shouldn’t we at least get to know each other first?” Adrik’s sister asks.

Adrik stares at her. “I’ve known you since I was born.”

“We’re not the only ones in the room, Adrik.”

“Oh, aren’t we ? I can’t say I noticed.”

Nikolai interrupts their glaring match to finally provide Zoya with names to all the unfamiliar faces.

“Tamar, Tolya, Nadia, and Isaak, meet the officers we’ll be working with for the next few weeks or longer- Alina, Genya, Zoya, Leoni, and Adrik,” he gestures towards each person in turn. Zoya briefly wonders how he already knows their names, before realising that just because the GIA didn’t know who the special investigators were didn’t exactly mean they didn’t know the GIA either.

“And now,” Nikolai beams. “Let’s get comfortable. It’s time to discuss our present conundrum!”

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chainofclovers · 3 years

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Ted Lasso 2x3 thoughts

Brendan Hunt confirmed on Twitter that the writers wrote the first three episodes of the season with the intention of releasing them on the same day, just as they dropped the first three episodes of season one on the same day. Having finally watched the first three over three different weeks, I really wish they’d been able to launch all three on the same day. I really liked the first two episodes of the season, but the third episode really puts a lot of things into context. Between the political storyline, the return of Sassy (and a bit of a level-setting conversation between Sassy, Rebecca, and Ted) and Rebecca’s navigation of her professional life as an all-in club owner and her experience reconnecting to Nora...all of that feels like we’re done setting up the season now. Exposition complete—and to the writers’ credit, all three of these episodes are far more than exposition. A lot of story has happened.

So much so that this week’s installment has categories.

Sassy and Ted and Rebecca

Hahahahahahahahahaha

No, seriously though, I love that they are mature adults about this and I also love that Ted is Uncomfortable and, to be perfectly honest, I like that Sassy’s aggressive unfilteredness becomes an opportunity for the show to venture into more sexual references and humor about characters other than Keeley and Roy. It was a lot of information!

I’ve seen a couple of people express disappointment that Ted seems weirded out by Sassy discussing Nora’s impending first period, but I didn’t get the impression that he was grossed out by periods. There is a lot going on! Nora is right outside the room with the door open and Sassy has run through a lot of very personal topics! I felt like his reaction was more about the proximity issue in specific and the personal nature of the conversation in general more than anything else.

So many thoughts about the intersection between the biscuits and this conversation that it had to go in its own post.

Nora!

I LOVE Nora. I want every episode of this show to be about her. I want this sitcom to be called Nora Collins.

I love that Nora’s a little bit sassy (pun on her mother’s nickname only lazily intended) in the way a thirteen-year-old can be, but also enthusiastic about spending time with Rebecca and genuinely interested in meeting everyone her godmother knows. Rebecca genuinely hurt Nora, but Nora can clearly see that Rebecca is all-in on their mended relationship, and that gives her the space to be a bit teasing. She knows Rebecca’s weaknesses and has a little fun (the cooking joke when Rebecca offers to make popcorn?!) but also isn’t going to manipulate her or take advantage.

The British doll company and all the riffs on American Girl dolls, OMG. So good.

Like literally everyone, I am extremely into Rebecca and Roy actually being friends and exchanging words with each other this season. Now everyone in the group of four mains have had some great conversational moments with each other this season (I count Ted and Keeley being into Sharon’s bike as a great conversational moment, OK?!), with the exception of Roy and Ted. Cannot wait for that.

During the photo op with the team, Sassy and Rebecca remark on how Nora is loving and hating having her picture taken with Sam and the rest of the players, and that is THE experience of being thirteen years old, and Kiki May does an incredible job infusing all of Nora’s moments with the right proportions of enthusiasm to cringe. Thirteen years olds are constantly cringing but still full of spirit and life, and at constantly changing ratios, and Nora is the perfect embodiment of that.

My heart melted during the email-writing scene. Rebecca’s writing the email on Nora’s computer! In the guest room where her goddaughter is staying! They’re wearing pajamas! And Rebecca’s smile is so genuinely huge and delighted when she signs it “boss ass bitch.”

Led Tasso and Jamie’s Redemption

This was so stupid and I loved it so much. I love that Ted’s angry alter ego is absurd rather than scary, kind of like a parody of how worked up some men get over sports. I wonder if Led Tasso’s appearance in some way foreshadows a more uncontrolled, genuine anger from Ted in a later episode, because this Led Tasso dude is ridiculous.

Tentative kudos to Led Tasso for being able to point out the, ahem, clit of the soccer ball even from within a fugue state.

The entire Chuck E. Cheese exchange with Sharon was so hilarious and wonderful.

When Ted has the idea to bring out Led Tasso, Nate assumes he’s going to suggest that Jamie talk to Sharon. I absolutely adore the implication that Jamie’s growth over this episode is attributable to both Led Tasso and Sharon Fieldstone. Because while some players are still unmoved by Jamie’s willingness to stand up to Led, it didn’t go unnoticed! And then I was so proud of Keeley for refusing to take on the emotional labor of listening to Jamie when she was too busy with her actual job, and I felt that Jamie’s pretty immediate willingness to see what the therapy thing was all about was extremely in line with his character. He’s always seeking out Keeley to talk, and sometimes he actually means “talking” when he asks to talk with her! Jamie feels like someone who’s standing at a wall of doors, knocking on each one, trying to see what sticks. He really lacks foundation. I’m curious to know what he and Sharon spoke about in their session, but I like that the writers left the session private. The knowledge that he’s started seeing a psychologist is valuable information in and of itself, and Jamie’s decision to act in solidarity with Sam and the other Nigerian players is the perfect evidence that he’s thinking in new ways.

Sam and Dubai Air

Toheeb Jimoh is always great, but he’s so great in this episode. It’s cool to see his demeanor, pacing, and confidence shift as he becomes more at home with the team—and it’s also lovely to see that he, unlike Jamie, very much has a strong foundation in his home country, his supportive parents, his own moral center.

I like that Sam didn’t spend a bunch of time and emotional labor on teaching Jamie why caring about other people (and the environment!) matters, because that would’ve undercut the other political messages in this episode. Sam’s leading by example and everyone can either catch up or stay out, and it’s really great.

I really like the way they handled the press conference with Ted and Sam. I like that Ted gave the floor to Sam but prefaced that with very brief (for once!) remarks of his own. And I appreciated that Ted acknowledged his position of privilege, and that the angle isn’t that bad things never happen to white dudes but rather that when bad things do happen to people like Ted, it gets attention with so much less effort than when bad things happen to people who aren’t white men. Because that’s how privilege works—it’s not a shield that prevents bad things from happening to you, but it’s a safety net that ensures people will notice and address and even pitch in to take care of your bad things, often at the expense of the people who lack that privilege.

There’s probably lots of other stuff I could talk about, like the hilariously and realistically bad usernames on Bantr and Keeley brushing her snacks off the desk and into her purse and how things between Beard and Jane are clearly very, very bad and I’m worried about Beard and how it was soooo fun and lovely to see Shannon teasing Ted again (little coffee and football rituals before work are the kinds of details I absolutely live for) and HIGGINS PRETENDING REBECCA SENT HIM A BRILLIANT AND HEROIC EMAIL (which she does for real with Nora’s help just a couple scenes later!) and how delighted I was to feel that by this episode this season has really hit its stride and feels like a fully lived-in portrayal of the energized, loving, imperfect, busy, full place that is the whole AFC Richmond community. Honestly, Higgins pretending Rebecca sent that email because he wants to make her look good in front of her granddaughter is kind of the perfect encapsulation of what this episode felt like. This is a show about a bunch of imperfect people who want each other to succeed.

Edited to add: I was delighted to find out Ashley Nicole Black was writing for the show and the writing here did the opposite of disappoint! ❤️

#ted lasso #ted lasso s2 spoilers #a lesbian watches ted lasso #meta by me #ted lasso 2x3

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variousqueerthings · 3 years

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Daniel LaRusso: A Queer Feminine Fairytale Analysis Part Two of Three

Part 1

Part 3

6. Sexual Awakenings part 1: Love, Obsession, & Size Differences

[Insert that post talking about the creators making sure that Daniel’s antagonists were much bigger than him so that the audience would sympathise, spawning 10000 size kink fics]

I’m sure this won’t awaken anything in Daniel

Corporate wants you to find the difference between these two pictures

The hallmark of feminine fairytales tends to be growing into womanhood, with all those symbolic sexual under/overtones, searching for a prince, encountering monsters (or evil stepmothers), on the surface tending to be quite passive/reactive, but actually being about young girls and women getting out of their environment and choosing to tussle with those deep, dark desires – monsters. They’ve got to function within the limitations of power that they have – escaping an abusive situation through marriage, chasing forbidden desires under the guise of duress, asking questions about sexuality through things like symbolic plucking (flowers) or consumption (fruit) or pricking (needles), etc.

Daniel isn’t striking out to find his fortune or win a girl or a kingdom Like A Man, he’s not a threat to Silver, who – like Jareth in Labyrinth – is in control for almost the whole of the narrative, he’s not actually able to do much more than react until he makes the decision to stop training, and even then he’s immediately ganged up on and assaulted, needing to be saved by Miyagi while he stands and watches, bloodied and bruised.

Daniel’s journey in the third movie is to be forced into an impossible situation, seduced by Silver, and then prove that whatever violence Silver did to him isn’t enough to destroy him. It is incredibly similar to Sarah’s in Labyrinth, who by the end declares: “you have no power over me,” and that’s her winning moment. Not strength, not wits, not a direct fight, (although Daniel does fight Barnes and gets beat up again – only winning in in the end by taking him by surprise, unlike in TKK1 or TKK2 where you could argue that he proves himself to be a capable physical opponent to Johnny and Chozen), but by declaring that whatever power was held over her is now void.

Daniel’s narrative isn’t satisfying in the same way, because the dynamic of Silver and Daniel only accidentally emulates this - it’s not an intention on the side of the film-makers.

When Miyagi tells Daniel that he has strong roots, when he tells him not to lose to fear and Daniel wins over Barnes (in an almost fairytale-esque set of events), on paper he’s defeated whatever hold Terry Silver has over him. In the film itself though, Daniel never defeats Silver (which will likely be confirmed once he returns in Season Four). Daniel cannot simply say “you have no power over me,” and see Silver shattered into glass shards.

The film is a contradiction: It wants to be a masculine sports film, but it exists in the same realm as Goblin Kings seducing young girls with the promise of: “Just fear me, love me, do as I say, and I will be your slave.” Unlike Sarah, Daniel doesn’t claim the power that’s been promised to him on his own terms. His subtextually sexual awakening is so corrupted that all he can do is pretend it never happened.

Still, Daniel proves in the film that his strength is not in his fists. It’s in his praying to the bonsai tree that’s healed despite a violent boy brutally tearing it in two.

These looks on Daniel and Silver though?

So why does Silver become obsessed with him? What’s up with all those red outfits (that he doesn’t wear in Cobra Kai)? What does the temptation reveal about Daniel? How does it recontextualise TKK1 and TKK2? Is Daniel bisexual? (yes).

Ah, beach-Daniel, in your red hoodie and your cut-off jorts. Iconic hot-girl summer vibes.

If you didn’t want me over-analysing this, you shouldn’t have put him in so many red outfits and then have this man leering at him like he wants to eat him alive.

Surface-level it’s not hard to read into a Dude Story: Masculine power fantasies are about strength in a very direct way. Fighting, control, suaveness – and if you’re not the most traditionally masculine of guys, asserting dominance through being a good lover or intelligent or overcoming that unmanliness in some way through beating the bully or convincing the hot girl to go out with you, levelling up in coolness. Being A Man. It’s not too dissimilar from Daniel’s arc in the first movie, if you watch it without taking later events into account, although Daniel is never interested in proving himself as a man, and more in making Miyagi proud. Still, he does win and gain respect, and arguably “get the girl,” although Ali’s interest in him was never dependent on the fight.

7. Sexual Awakenings Part 2: Sexual Assault, Liberation, and Queerness

Feminine power fantasies are often about sex. Metaphorically. More accurately it’s “owning sexuality.” Even more accurately: “Freedom.” They also inhabit a fluid space in which empowerment through monstrous desires and non-consent can happen at the same time. And on top of that, many of these “fantasies” are actually being written by men, so whose fantasy is it really? A lot of them are based in oral traditions so presumably they were originally from the mouths of women, even if modern iterations (starting with Grimm’s collections) are filtered through cis men’s perspectives.

All of that being acknowledged: In Angela Carter’s “The Company Of Wolves,” Red Riding Hood unambiguously sleeps with the wolf. Belle discovers her freedom from expectations and unsuitable suitors (and in some versions, evil stepsisters) by falling in love with a Beast (the original novel was written by a woman, the 18th century Gabrielle-Suzanne Barbot de Villeneuve). Jareth informs Sarah of his obsessive devotion to her in Labyrinth. To lean into horror for a moment – Buffy is stalked and eventually has relationships with both Angel and Spike, Lucy in Coppola’s Dracula (which I have mixed feelings about) is raped by the werewolf and Mina is stalked by Dracula, The Creature Of The Black Lagoon kidnaps Kay (the lead’s girlfriend) – subverted in both The Shape Of Water in which Eliza forms a consensual relationship with the amphibious sea-god and in the short-lived horror series Swamp Thing, in which the connection is purposefully framed as seductive…

and in The Karate Kid Part Three Daniel LaRusso punches a board until his hands bleed because an attractive, older man tells him to and in this moment he gives in to what he (thinks he) wants.

Not all of those examples are equal. Some are consensual, some are hinted as abusive and/or stalkery, all of them have large age gaps, and a few are outright non-consensual.

But they’re all fantasies.

They’re all power-fantasies.

Except for Daniel, because he’s a man and the idea that being obsessed (lusted) over by an older man who keeps you in his thrall, specifically because you tickle his fancy for whatever reason, because you’re beautiful, breakable, different – could in any way be considered empowering is a difficult concept to wrap your head around. It doesn’t contain that “but I’m a good girl, I’d never go off the path and pluck flowers if a bad wolf told me to, honest,” societal context or the social context of rape culture. It’s closest comparison is closeted (perhaps even unknown until that point) queer identity.

There have recently been some comparisons of Daniel LaRusso to Bruce Bechdel in Funhome (and everyone who says that Ralph Macchio ought to play him in the upcoming movie: you’re right and I’m just not going to enjoy it as much without him). I’ve written a post about Sam being the heir to his legacy and trauma, specifically as a queercoded man. It’s not dissimilar to the plot of Funhome in a lot of ways.

The other interesting source that’s been going around in connection with Daniel is the essay “The Rape of James Bond,” which discusses the use of sexual assault as a plot device for women and not for men: “About one in every 33 men [in the US] is raped. … [your statistically average, real life man] … doesn’t have a horde of enemies explicitly dedicated to destroying him. He doesn’t routinely get abducted, and tied up. Facing a megalomaniac psychopath gloating over causing him pain […] is not the average man’s average day at the office.” That last bit is just a descriptor of Terry Silver, (although I take issue at the blasé use of psychopath).

The two part youtube essay Sexual Assault of Men Played for Laughs posits that there is nothing more de-masculinising than the threat of sexual assault and therefore any narrative that features this “rightfully” must mock any man who has been a victim or who fears being a victim of sexual assault. It is feminising. There is nothing more humiliating – and therefore unheroic – than a man dealing with sexual assault.

So what do we feel when we see an attractive young man being put into a vulnerable position by an older man? A trope associated with female characters, a trope that is considered unpalatable for men (see reactions that happened when the hint of sexual assault was introduced in Skyfall).

Was it the fact that he was being threatened, or the fact that James’ next line is: “what makes you think this is my first time?”

Some thoughts added by @mimsyaf are around the idea of safety in how a lot of cis women might relate to this narrative through Daniel’s eyes. He’s not a woman, he has – societally – more power than a girl or woman would have, which makes this a different watch to, say, if Danielle were to go through the same narrative. Daniel doesn’t carry that baggage of rape culture, or of the male gaze that you might find in a similar scenario of Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Christine in Phantom of the Opera (and once more the age differences between these characters and the men who love/lust over them are substantial), which makes the narrative “safer” to engage with.

I agree with that, although as a transmasc person I also come at it differently. I specifically like to headcanon Daniel as a trans guy and find his fraught interactions with masculinity through his own non-toxic lens relatable, as well as the way other boys and men react to it – also I think Terry Silver is hot. I know there are people who write Terry Silver with female OCs, which is also a form of empowerment.

On the flipside putting Daniel in this space runs a risk of fetishising him as a queer youth who is either Innocent and Pure, or a bisexual stereotype that deserves to be assaulted for not being a real man. After all, Real Straight Men don’t run the risk of sexual assault.

Alas, the road to empowerment never did run smooth.

The comparisons between the way Daniel is treated by the text and how female characters are often treated in texts are undoubtedly there. Through Ralph Macchio and TIG’s casting and the direction and acting, but also within the text itself.

It might not be with the same purpose as Neo’s symbolically trans journey, but it puts the whole narrative that Daniel’s going through from TKK1 under a different light than if there had only been one movie that ended on a triumphant sports win and a girlfriend.

Johnny’s masculinity and the use of tears as liberation, now that’s a whole other analysis….

#daniel larusso #terry silver #the karate kid part three #the karate kid #cobra kai #ck #cobra kai meta #part two of three #we're going into labyrinth and james bond in this one fellas #(non-gendered fellas)

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cloveroctobers · 3 years

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SHEA BUTTER BABY | S. James

Requested by: @theshyprincess “Can I get a spencer James getting married and smut biracial if I’m not bothering you I really like your writing”

A/N: decided to do this in hc form, hope that’s cool? And it’s been my thing lately anyways lol. Hope you like this one! I also hope I channeled Spencer well 🙃

WARNINGS: light smut + some curse words ofc!

We all know Spencer takes the world on his shoulders; when his finds you, you become his world

You meet freshman year in university, specifically on the football field and decided to invite him to a sorority party because what’s the best way to start off your freshman year? A little party never hurt nobody

Except it did, things got rowdy resulting with a huge ass knot on your forehead and losing consciousness for a few minutes

You expected Spencer to dip like any other asshole dude would have but you were shocked that he actually came to your aid and walked you back to your dorm even tho you had a “big ass egg” growing from your forehead

You could laugh about it a little then, but more so now

He actually asked for your number before you departed, even tho you thought you majorly screwed whatever this was up but he wanted to see you again and you were more than happy to oblige

It was instant friendship with a touch of flirtations but you knew that he recently got out of some heartbreak from his senior year of high school and you had no choice but to respect that he wasn’t looking for a relationship right now

Day by day you became the best of friends spending majority of your time together while also getting to know each other’s outside friends and family, you became each other’s family

It was end of sophomore year where Spencer decided he wanted to give it a go but it was your turn to be leery since you watched him go through some girls but he never flaunted that in front of you, yet you always knew

You didn’t want to be his last option

“You could never be that, y/n. You’re so much more than what you think I think of you.”

Words of affirmation is definitely Spencer’s love language and he had no problem saying how he felt about you

He openly admitted that he was confused at first, trying to fight with his inner self on taking your friendship into the love zone. He’s always gone the friendship route first before it turned into romance—well maybe not with Kia but his past two relationships he did

He was not only confused but nervous and you made him work a little bit to get a date from you but you didn’t hold out for too long since you felt Spencer was your person

You took things slow but you still felt like friends except now you held onto each other a little longer and touches seem to burn now but you liked it, really liked it

Senior year is when he proposes, he’s actually the second out of his group of friends back home to get engaged...JJ was the first and actually went through with the marriage after one drunken night in vegas with some girl who was studying physical therapy

Sure it’s only been two years but like your grandmother always says, “when you feel a pull in your heart whenever they’re not around, they’re the one baby.” And your grandparents got married only after knowing each other for four months. Every love is different

You were a sappy mess and Spencer found it humorous while slipping the ring on and embracing you, “we not doing that. Save it until the wedding, huh?”

And he gets a few nice whacks to the chest but he can take it ofc as he’s kissing you so gently

It’s a private moment and you wouldn’t have it any other way

A year and a few months after you graduate, Spencer gets drafted into the NFL and you’re still searching for a job you majored in

You’re both living apart with you going back to your hometown in Arizona and Spencer in Cali. Things aren’t easy but you’ve been planning your wedding and it feels like Spencer is just saying he’s okay with everything which is frustrating. You don’t want to do this alone and you need to find a place to live together, you didn’t want to live with Spencer’s mom and brother as much as you loved them. You were both adults and needed to take the wheel

Yet it always felt like Spencer was busy planning on putting further distance between you since he was secure in his career and you just felt stuck

That caused a riff between you two but Spencer didn’t like that silent treatment bs. You were gonna talk to him one way or another

Once you get through it, which you definitely do!! it’s pure heaven and you couldn’t be happier

You get married at a banquet hall

You both have a lot friends and family that’ve invited

Your best friends + sibs are your best men, bridesmaids, maid of honor

Spencer leaves a chair open for his dad up front with his mom and brother 🥲

Initially you were going to have your guests pick whatever seat they wanted and just have your immediate family have the front areas but you knew that would probably end up hectic with the strong personalities you had within your friend and family group so you kept it traditional. Your family/friends on one side and spence’s family/friends on the other

Memorable wedding, you were gorgeous and he was so handsome. You loved when Spencer got dressed up, it did something to you and you couldn’t wait for your honeymoon

It wouldn’t be anything over the top like The Bakers tried to gift you with, you just wanted something simple but nice with the man you loved

You were going to Palm Springs the next morning!!! Spending the night in the hotel

You were going to hold out even longer until the night you reached your honeymoon destination 😌

Spencer wanted the both of you to write your own vows and you sure didn’t know how you would compete with this guy. Spencer James always had a way with words!!!

He ofc had you a sobbing mess again but you knew it was never about out-showing the other

when you seal your marriage with a kiss, his hands rest securely on your hips with your hand cradling his jaw and you’re all smiles as the hall fills with cheers

“I love you, Mrs. James.” He’s got that smirk of a smile on his lips and love in his eyes

“As do I, Mr. James.�� And you can’t wipe the smile from your own lips even if you tried

One thing you both know how to do is party so the reception goes on for awhile, until about 3 am even tho you both have to be on the road by 10 or a little later since check in isn’t until early afternoon

You’re both so giddy you can hardly sleep but you eventually do, you in your dress + Spencer in his dress shirt but he’s lost the tie and loosened his pants

Since Palm Springs is a 2 hr drive you’re reminiscing on how you basically taught Spencer how to drive and look at how far he’s come now with the rental you’re both using for 4 days and 3 nights

“so it’s my fault you don’t know how to instruct?” Which leads to harmless bickering over spencer’s road trip playlist

it’s been agreed that you each had an hour to play your playlists then for the left over minutes you’d listen to the radio once you got to your destination

your airbnb is REAL colorful and modern, not exactly your tastes but nonetheless it was your getaway from home. You were used to the desert while spencer? Not so much

“the hell was that?” Spencer is dodging and weaving especially if they fly

“looks like fire ants.” keep your distance.” “Why do you know what that is?” “I get stuck watching discovery channel with my dad when I can’t sleep and he’s always up. I saw one episode about them and we don’t want to mess with those bastards.”

you don’t do much with the rest of your day there, just enjoying each other’s company in the air bnb

You decide to shower while Spencer is ordering y’all your dinner from grubhub and deciding what you’re going to watch on firestick that you bought with you

you tend to take long showers so you’re just about done rubbing shea butter into your skin when Spencer announces that the food is here through the door

when you step out you’re on a mission with your silk robe, bustier, and garter

although you kept your own values of saving yourself until marriage—while Spencer was way more experienced you didn’t feel as nervous to get intimate with the man of your dreams

but that changed the moment his set his eyes on you

“what’s this?” He smirks, popping a fry into his mouth

You’re playing coy as your skin shines, leaning over to steal one of his fries. “My pajamas.”

He’s amused but definitely turned on, “oh aight, so that’s just the norm for you now?”

“I could change.” You pointed back to the where the bathroom sat

“I ain’t say all that, Mrs. James.” Spencer blinks then lifts his head upwards, “c’mere.”

And you move to sit on his lap with excitement even tho you think you hide it pretty well. You’ve always pictured how this would be and you knew from stories from your cousins and friends that half of them didn’t have the most romantic experience...

You didn’t need the rose petals and candles but you knew Spencer was a romantic at heart, plus you had plenty of time to see what was up his sleeve and knew this wouldn’t be the only time as of tonight. You were hoping!!!

“Are we starting dinner?” You ask, wrapping an arm across his shoulders but his eyes are set only on you

“I’m hungry for somethin’ else right now,” his nose presses against your beating throat, “and it just walked in here, looking good enough for this appetite.”

Now he’s kissing on your neck and when he gets to that sweet spot behind your ear he’s got the confirmation he needs but he needs to hear you say it. And he asks with his eyes which you reply with a dip of your head

Now he’s got his hands underneath your thighs, locking your legs around his waist for you and he’s off to your temporary bedroom

He’s always so gentle with you, even when he’s laying you down on this bed

“I promise the next time we do this, I’ll make the place look special for you.” He says into your neck and your nod as you feel the weight of him against you

You’re gasping for breath before he’s been fully touched you yet, “we still have the tub and a couple of days.”

He breathes out a laugh, “that we do. That we do.” Before your lips are brought back together

You know you are loved with the way Spencer touches you and speaks to you even in your most intimate moment

He builds you up before he gives himself all to you. It’s something you heard about, SEEN and knew it was crucial but you didn’t want to put too much logic in this moment. You don’t think you can even think straignt with the way you’re on fire for Spencer rn

And he’s know that but he needs you to be patient, he knows how to take his time. And he should know what he’s doing...he does

He’s seeing what your body likes, he’s watching his face even when you begin to whine for him

He knows when you’re truly ready even when you’re begging

He gives you your first climax with his mouth and you know you need more because you knew how much you loved his lips but you loved them even more now

“even better than I imagined,” he says with a lick of his lips from below before pressing a kiss on your abdomen and you’re still seeing stars

“you okay up there?” He asks. He’s always seeking reassurance from you. That’s too important to him, you’re too important to him

You have to say it as your vision slowly starts to splat back to normal, “I need you i-in— but there’s heat pooling in your cheeks. You’re a bit shy now as you’re getting in your head wondering how you must have sounded or looked in that moment of your first climax but it didn’t seem as if Spencer was disappointed. He seemed just as happy to please

He knows what you need. He worked with your body up to this moment

So he’s kissing up your body, slow and soft. He looks into your eyes before he glances over to grab his wallet from the night stand to grab protection

you didn’t think this far ahead but part of you wanted to know if there was a difference without, ofc you knew the risks without and you had forever to try so you made no comment about the choice to use protection

You wanted to do the honors, and so you did

You were surely in awe to be this close and personal with something you get to have for a lifetime

“Careful, something might fly in there.”

You can’t help but you roll your eyes and snort as Spencer places a kiss to your cheek before he reaches up to lock your hands together and up over your head, your wedding bands contrasting against the bright orange walls and your shea butter skin

“I’m ready.” You whisper, your eyes shifting from Spencer’s deep brown eyes to where your bodies would connect

Spencer hums as he keeps his eyes on yours before lining up, he has to free one of his hands to guide

and your mouth falls open with a slight arch in your back

He doesn’t move right away, he needs to be sure

when you lock both legs around his hips, tugging him closer than close to you, fully allowing him in your space, you then squeeze your hands tighter together, never wanting to let go

Spencer James was all you ever needed and you were more than thrilled to continue this journey of life with him

#all american #all american season 3 #Spencer James #Spencer James x reader #all american x reader #all american fanfic #all american fan fiction #all american hcs #all american cw #daniel ezra

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