#since he sees himself as the guardian or responsible older one of them and has to take care of them all

[wttcsms]

angels like you can't fly down here with me (i'm everything they say i would be), megumi fushiguro ;

pairing megumi fushiguro x f!reader word count 11k  synopsis people like him don't get happy endings but megumi fushiguro (foolishly) considers himself to be the exception — after all, he has you. content contains yakuza au, childhood friends to lovers, mutual pining, breeding kink, slight daddy kink, attempted sa, minor violence & depictions of blood author's note if ur on my ao3, you know this is from 2021!!! my writing has changed up since then, but i'm going to be releasing a revised version of this which will be rewritten and feature more scenes, more worldbuilding, more plot, relationship and character development, etc!! i figured releasing this on tumblr would help me gauge how worthwhile revision of this fic will be, so lmk if u like this au & want to see it become even better <3

Don’t do it.

He repeats the command inside his head again, and then one more time for good measure. (And then another time, just to drive the point across.)

He won’t — can’t; isn’t really allowed to — get into (another!) fight.

(Well, there’s a part of Megumi that knows that despite Gojo’s sing-songy warning of “now, now, Megumi, I don’t need a frequent visitor’s card for the principal’s office”, he doesn’t actually care. All he’s really concerned about — if the mild interest the reckless teenager turned legal guardian shows can even be called that — is whether or not Megumi wins.

And he does.

Every. Single. Time.)

For the most part, Megumi Fushiguro is fairly stoic in general, but to a concerning degree when one accounts for the fact that he’s only ten years old. For the odd three or so years he’s been under Gojo’s wing, Megumi’s mask of disinterest stopped becoming a mask and started becoming a part of him.

(Try as he might, Gojo’s not nearly as funny as he thinks he is. Maybe the connection between them might have been stronger if Gojo was a bit more responsible and if he was actually present, but he’s got his own shit to deal with. Besides, Gojo’s under the impression that what he’s doing isn’t cruel, but rather a means to an end. Megumi’s never going to be able to get stronger if he doesn’t learn how to survive on his own.

After all, being alone and having to fight to survive is the life people like them live.)

The older preteens in the area have a bad habit of picking on the younger students. Because the elementary and middle schools are so close together, the younger students who have the misfortune of walking alone tend to be targets for bullies in need of pocket change or a good laugh. Most of the time, they get both.

As of late, everyone’s favorite target happens to be Megumi Fushiguro, the boy with the messy black hair and indifferent attitude, even when confronted by boys two years his senior and almost a whole entire head taller than him.

Last week, Megumi gave the three older boys dumb enough to harass him for money bloody noses, bruised egos, and a thirst for revenge. That was the first (and supposed to be the last) time he got into a fight (for this school year, at least — something Gojo had told him, while winking). So, even when the trio is back together again, taunting him and trying to get him to take the first swing, Megumi keeps walking forward with his perpetual look of disinterest, those cold blue eyes of his staring straight at the path ahead of him, never paying any mind to the gangly bodies of the middle school boys who keep trying to block him from moving.

Don’t do it.

He tells himself this once more. You don’t want to have to inconvenience Gojo. Then, you’ll be stuck listening to him pretend to lecture you. You don’t like spending too much time with Gojo. He’ll make weird jokes. 

The thought of having to deal with Gojo’s presence is enough to get Megumi to unclench his fists.

“Move.”

It’s the first thing he says to the group since they started following him after school. He tells the boy with the brown hair this. The brunet seems to be their ringleader of sorts, and even as nothing more than a ten year old child, Megumi knows that being twelve/thirteen and harassing little kids for sport is a sign of patheticness that will only grow and fester into something darker unless someone beats some sense into them. Obviously, they didn’t learn their lesson from last week.

“Huh? What the hell did ya just say, ya little brat?” The brown haired boy sneers, looking down at Megumi.

School has just let out, so there are dozens of kids of all ages walking down the sidewalk. They’re all aware of the situation happening, but everyone chooses to turn a blind eye to it. Partly because this is such a common occurrence that it just starts to become something that blends into the scenery, but also because there are some rumors surrounding the Fushiguro kid that’s enough to make anyone with a heart of gold reluctant to come to his rescue.

The main rumor circulating around the school is that Megumi Fushiguro has ties to the yakuza. Granted, most kids his age have no idea what the yakuza is, and even those who somewhat know only know through exaggerated definitions from their older siblings. Generally, everyone just accepts the fact that the yakuza is bad, and by default, Megumi Fushiguro must be bad too. Older siblings tell their younger siblings to avoid “that boy” at all costs, unless they want to end up with a finger cut off. Megumi’s classmates huddle together and conveniently choose to look everywhere else but at him when on the playground.

For anyone else, this might have been enough to cause some hurt feelings. Everyone thinks the boy must be some type of stupid to be so oblivious to the rumors centered around him, but the truth is this: Megumi is well aware of what people whisper about behind his back; he just doesn’t care enough to prove them wrong.

And they’re not wrong, anyway.

(For some parts of the rumors, at least.)

Because it’s true — Megumi does have ties to the yakuza. His father, who he can’t seem to attach neither a name nor a face to, must have done something bad. Something bad enough to have him cross paths with Satoru Gojo, the young head of the Gojo Clan, one of Tokyo’s most prominent crime families. It’s the same Gojo who decided to adopt both Megumi and his stepsister, Tsumiki, despite having nothing (so far) to gain from it. After all, why would a teenager willingly assign himself the responsibilities of caring for small children — one who resembles the man that tried to kill him and the other being an ill little girl confined to a hospital bed for who knows how long. All Gojo gets from this deal is a headache, bills, and more problems than necessary.

Megumi’s not really sure how the rumors started in the first place. He thinks it’s because kids his age are easily influenced and have a tendency to run wild with their imaginations. With the rising popularity of gangs from the high school students, this interest seems to have trickled all the way down to the elementary levels. Megumi certainly fits the description of their idea of someone from the yakuza: silent, secretive, scary.

(If they were a little bit older, maybe they would have just seen him as an introvert.)

No matter how ridiculous the rumors get, though, it doesn’t change the fact that the root of them is true: he is connected to the yakuza. After all, he’s being primed and prepped to be someone of value in the clan. Once you’re tied with the likes of them, you might as well just resign to the knot fate’s trapped you with. He’s learned quickly that the only thing harder than getting into the yakuza is getting out.

And because his sister’s and his life both depend on him doing as he’s told, getting out is a funny pipe dream at best and the Fushiguro siblings’ cause of death at worst.

“I told you to move. You’re blocking my way.” Megumi’s tone of voice betrays nothing. Annoyance, maybe, but he speaks flatly regardless of how he’s truly feeling. Gojo says it’s kinda creepy. Gojo also says that being a little creepy isn’t bad.

(Gojo should know; he’s a certified creep in Megumi’s eyes.)

“Oh — so the little boy can speak up.” The boy with blond hair laughs. It’s a nasally sound that grates Megumi’s ears.

He’s not an idiot. Megumi is well aware of the fact that no matter how much he feels like it isn’t true, he’s still just a little ten year old boy. He should be playing with the toy cars Gojo bought him, not worrying about the gritty future that lies ahead. But still, the phrase rubs him the wrong way.

Little boy.

He wasn’t so little when he kicked them down to his height before properly bashing their faces, now was he? Even now, he can feel the anger coming up. He clenches his fists, wondering if he’ll get suspended for fighting right next to school property.

“Leave him alone.”

Another voice appears, but not from any of the boys. No — this time, it’s coming from a little girl on the sidewalk across from theirs. Everyone involved turns to stare at the source of such a command and are greeted with the sight of you with a Hello Kitty backpack. You’ve got a frown on your face that doesn’t match the brightness of your pink outfit.

Megumi recognizes you instantly. You’re in the same class as him. You were in the same class as him last year, too. He tilts his head, trying to figure out what exactly it is you’re trying to accomplish here — and why.

He knows his social standing in the school. If he’s at the bottom, you’re right at the top. A beaming pillar of light, everyone flocks to you like moths after a flame. But you’re alone today, not surrounded by the usual crowd of boys and girls who are often vying for your attention. Seeing you alone enables him to see you more clearly, without all the distractions getting in his way.

You’re small. Shorter than him, and way shorter than the middle school boys. You’ve got a bow in your hair and brand new shoes on your feet. If anybody should be socially aware, it has to be you. Those at the top, Megumi knows, like to remind everyone of their placement. You shouldn’t be here. You should be ignoring him like he’s got the plague, just like everyone else.

All three of the boys start to laugh after sizing you up. The laughter only serves to make you even more irritated, but you can’t speak because one of them is already talking through his laughs.

“Don’t tell me. Is this your girlfriend?”

The group erupts into more laughter, and while Megumi’s expression remains the same as it’s been for the past few minutes, yours only shows your growing contempt.

“She’s no one.” Megumi throws you an odd look, one of neither annoyance nor gratitude for trying to help him out. He uses your presence as a distraction, and he manages to take a few more steps before one of the boys is yanking him back by his bookbag.

“Grab her.” One of the boys says, and the third boy, the one with the messy red hair, starts to cross the street.

Megumi watches as you stay right where you are. Are you stupid? Why won’t you run? The boy still has a solid grip on his bookbag, keeping him in place. He wonders if it’ll be a waste of his breath if he tells you to start running — you probably wouldn’t listen to him anyway.

But then Megumi figures out why you don’t look too frightened, because not even a second before the older boy manages to cross the street to your side of the sidewalk, a man in a suit is running towards you, a scowl on his face.

“You said you were going to the restroom, young lady!” The man scolds you while panting for breath. He surveys the scene, looking at you, and then the middle school boy by your side before turning his head and seeing Megumi in between the other two boys. “What’s going on? Is everything alright? Did they do anything to you?”

“No, Mr. Higashi. B-but—“ Your bottom lip starts to tremble, and even though Higashi is certain that the tears about to fall are fake, the situation itself looks serious enough to the point where he doesn’t call you out on it. “Th-these boys are being really mean.” You let out a high pitched wail that makes the boy let go of Megumi’s bookbag. “They just threatened to attack me and my friend out of nowhere.”

“Your father will be informed.” Higashi frowns, eyeing the guilty boys who look confused and a little shocked at this turn of events. “Mr. [Surname] certainly won’t be pleased to hear about this.”

The middle school boys pale when they hear the man name drop your family’s surname.

After all, it’s the same last name that’s engraved on plaques all over the school, thanking your family for the many donations they’ve received.

You enter into Megumi’s life that way: unexpectedly. He never thanked you for intervening, but it’s not like you did it for the thanks anyway. You did it, you tell him, because you figured he needed some help.

“I had it handled.” He tells you flatly. “Why are you even sitting here? Your friends keep staring at us.”

It’s true. Stories of what happened are already circulating around both schools, and while all your friends spent the whole entire day pestering you for the full story, you chose to keep quiet about the situation. And now, here you are, choosing to sit and eat lunch with Megumi, someone who also knows the true story of what went down but the only one people aren't brave enough to ask.

Your whole entire table of friends keep their heads huddled together as they go back and forth with each other, every one of them sparing glances at Megumi’s table. It makes the rice in his mouth taste stale. He should have just stayed in the classroom to eat, especially if he knew you would be bothering him.

“Gee, is that any way to treat a friend?” You huff, not at all actually annoyed with him.

“We’re not friends.”

“Too late. I told my dad we were.”

There has been one question on his mind ever since that incident. Just who exactly is your father? He’s not stupid; he knows that you must come from a wealthy family. If the buildings and auditorium named after your family isn’t enough proof, the fact that you always have the latest toys, the nicest shoes, the cutest stationery sets — that’s material proof of a spoiled princess.

You continue speaking, and as if you can read his mind, you’re already answering his question. “My daddy’s called a CEO. But the man you saw is Mr. Higashi. He takes care of me when dad’s away at work, and everything I do gets typed up in a report that dad sees every day. He wasn’t happy about what happened, so he says the boys will get in trouble. He told us not to worry, though.” You have a pleased smile on your face, waiting for Megumi to say something in reply.

“Okay.” He says, after a while. He only spoke because it seemed like you were waiting for him to. “It doesn’t mean we’re friends.”

“What’s so wrong about being friends with me?” You tilt your head. Everyone wants to be friends with you. And that’s before they even figure out that you live in a real life mansion with actual servants, and that sometimes you’re allowed to eat dessert for dinner. Even without the wealth, you still draw people in, whether it be with your bright smile or cheery attitude.

“Don’t you already have enough friends?” He can’t figure out what you could possibly want with him. Even though Gojo’s got the backing of the clan and enough funds to run the Tokyo underground with cash to spare, it’s not like Megumi is in a position to take advantage of it. Gojo hands him a thick wad of cash every week with a tip to “spend wisely, hehehehe”, and Megumi takes the tip to heart. A majority of the money sits saved in his bedroom, underneath a floorboard he spent a week trying to figure out how to loosen without anyone catching on. (Which was actually easy whenever he realized that nobody seems to really watch him to begin with.) So, he doesn’t look like he has money, and isn’t that what all rich kids want? To surround themselves with equally rich kids?

“I guess.” Your bubbly mood seems to dampen a bit at the mention of the other kids. They like you, sure. But they like each other a lot more. The gap between you and the other kids isn’t noticeable at first, but the novelty of having an endless supply of company has lost its luster. Meanwhile, the glamor of your life only keeps the hoards of “friends” to grow as the days go by. It’s always “let’s have a sleepover at [Names]’s!” or “[Name], we have to go to your house because you have the best toys!”. You wonder if they like you, or the shiny things that they get when they’re with you. “But, it’s not like youhave any friends.”

“I don’t need any.” The response is quick — instinctual. Gojo, even if not the greatest guardian by any parental standards, still presses Megumi to have a proper (or, as proper as it can be) childhood.

(“You know, I don’t care if you bring any friends over. Just make sure no one ends up accidentally getting shot, okay, Megumi?”

Yeah, because that’s definitely gonna push him towards throwing as many parties as he wants.)

People in his position don’t have many friends. It’s hard to, he assumes, because of all the killings and betrayals and power plays.

(And, he’ll soon learn that it hurts a lot less to lose an enemy than it does a friend.)

“Hmm. Okay.”

But you don’t get up from your seat, and he doesn’t tell you to move.

The next day, you’re carrying two bento boxes. The lunches are prepared for you by world class chefs and everything is done in a rather cutesy manner to entice you into not wasting your food. The fruit is cut into pretty shapes, the food has picks with animals on them, and everything is colorful and to your own personal tastes.

You take a seat next to him once again. He looks up for a second, sees that it’s you, and returns back to his meal that looks pitiful in comparison. Leftover rice and some cold meat. You think it’s the same thing he had last time.

“For you.” You slide the second bento you had requested towards him before opening up your own.

“What’s this for?”

“For you to eat, silly.”

“...How much?”

“Huh? All of it, I guess? If you don’t like something, tell me, and I’ll request something different tomorrow.” You don’t quite understand what he’s asking you.

“No. How much does it cost? I'll bring you the money tomorrow.”

“Why would it cost you?” Now you’re really confused.

Didn’t anyone ever teach you that everything comes attached with a price? If it’s not money you want, it must be something else. At least, if Megumi’s judgments are right. (And they usually are.)

“Fushiguro, I brought you this because I want you to eat well and grow strong.”

He wonders what rice shaped like Hello Kitty has to do with his strength.

“Also, so the next time people give you or me trouble, you can fight them, okay?”

Oh. So it’s protection you want. He contemplates what he thinks your request is before popping a piece of food into his mouth. A meal made with care — he can taste the thought that’s been put into it. Shoving his old lunch to the side, he quickly starts eating at the one you brought him.

Okay. So maybe he does accept your offer.

“Meguuuumi.” You whine out his name, messing up the navy sheets of his bed while he sits at his desk, trying to finish his application for university. “I’m bored.”

“Good. Go to your own house then, and leave me alone.”

“You’re so mean to me.” You sigh, turning your head so that half of your face is pressed against his pillow. The scent of his shampoo still sticks to the fabric, and you subconsciously inhale the scent some more. It’s familiar and reminds you of him, your favorite person in the world.

No one believes you when you tell them that Megumi is your best friend. No one wants to believe that it’s true. After all, the two of you look more like a shoujo manga trope than an actual pair of best friends. The cold, inexpressive dark haired male lead with a secretive past he doesn’t want anyone to know about and the bright, bubbly, ball of energy that is constantly clinging to his side. It’s like looking at night and day with you two.

“And yet, you’re still always here.”

You’re still by his side, even when the two of you reached middle school and high school together, and he spent a majority of his time starting (and finishing) fights.

(“Get off of him!” You screamed, yanking on the collar of one of the boys who happened to be trying to grab Megumi from behind. You don’t have the same amount of strength as them, but everyone at this point knows who you are and who exactly your father is. No matter what the origin of the fight is won’t matter; all that matters is that the precious daughter of one of Tokyo’s richest CEOs got caught in it, and that’s enough to get everyone involved into some deep shit.

Immediately, the boy scampers off, and the other boy Megumi was punching into the squeaky clean floors of the hallway begins to thrash around wildly, eyes wide at the sudden sight of you. Seeing you coming from behind Megumi is like watching the sun peek through a dozen storm clouds.

Megumi gives him one last punch, not nearly as satisfied as he thought he would be. Honestly, getting into fights with low level delinquents is beneath him. It’s not just his knuckles and clothes that are getting dirty; by feeding into the school’s image that he’s this young, violent yakuza heir, he’s dirtying the prestige Gojo claims is oh so important.

“Megumi.” He straightens up at the sound of your voice, which usually sounds so sweet, especially when it’s directed towards him. Instead, you have an uncharacteristic frown on your face and you sound… mad. “Let’s go.”

You’ve got a hand wrapped around his wrist, and people part when they spot the two of you making a hasty exit. The teachers aren’t bold enough to cause a scene with you, and the students know both you and Megumi are practically untouchable — one being the spoiled brat daughter of a rich and powerful businessman, the other, a ticking time bomb with ties to the yakuza.

You don’t stop walking until the two of you are in a secluded courtyard at the school. No one goes here, mainly because it’s in such an inconvenient location and there’s nothing but trees and weeds over growing it. The two of you found it within your first week of being here, and ever since then, it’s become your designated spot to avoid prying eyes.

“I thought you were over stupid fights. You told me yourself that they weren’t the type of people worth beating up.” You scold him, forcing him to take a seat on the bench that creaks under his weight. You make a noise as you inspect the drying blood on his knuckles.

If an outsider were to look at the scene before them, they would gape at the unbecoming sight of you on your knees, in between his legs, too close for a duo who claims to be “just good friends”. But there’s nothing inherently dirty in your thoughts. Instead, you’re staring thoughtfully at his hands, inspecting the minor damage done to them.

Megumi swallows hard as he looks down on you. He shouldn’t be feeling like this — you’re his best friend, his only friend. The only person who’s by his side. If you could read in his mind, there’s no doubt that you would be recoiling away from him in disgust…)

You’re still by his side, even when he told you the truth about himself after waiting years to see if you were truly his friend or not.

(“The rumors—” He starts to say, but you shush him, rolling over on your side to face him. The two of you are lying on the grass in your massive backyard, trying to spot a shooting star that’s supposed to be passing by at any second now.

“I don’t care about that.” You tell him. Middle school was a bitch to deal with, mainly because as everyone was in the process of growing up and “maturing”, so did the rumors they spread. Now, the two of you are halfway through your first week of high school. A new school, a couple of new classmates, and new rumors surrounding the odd pair.

“If I told you the rumors about me being someone you should avoid were true, would you be mad?” He’s lying on his back, still staring up at the night sky. He’s not turning to face you, almost as if he’s scared to look at you.

“Yes.” You answer without any hesitation. “At the person who’s spreading that around.” You clarify, poking him on his side to lighten the somber mood he’s setting. “You’re the only real friend I’ve had in forever, Megumi. I don’t think what anyone says about you would change that.”

“What if I did something bad?” Like kill a person. What then? What would you think of him if he told you the full truth: that Gojo told him that he can’t shield Megumi from the dirtier aspects of this type of life. That he’s spent hours after school, hours after hanging out with you and pretending to be a normal teenager, learning how to assemble, disassemble, and then reassemble a gun. That his target practice isn’t glass bottles lined up in a row or sheets printed out with human bodies. What happens if he told you that his target practice was low level scum from rival yakuza clans that Gojo couldn’t be bothered to kill himself?

“Mmm. How bad are we talking? Like, lied to me when you said my Christmas outfit looked good but half my ass was practically exposed bad or committing a felony bad?”

“What if I told you… that I really was a yakuza heir.”

The silence is palpable and especially soul crushing to Megumi as he waits for your reply.

“It wouldn’t matter to me, Megumi.” You say. You know that this isn’t just some type of hypothetical question he’s asking for fun. From his odd living situation to the intense nature of him in general to the fact that he knows practically everything about you, but you barely know the full extent of his childhood traumas despite growing up alongside him, you know deep in your heart that there has to be something going on with him. Something dark enough to harbor stories about him.

“Are you sure about that?”

You reach for his hand in the dark, finding it without really needing to look. He’s not one that’s prone to initiating physical contact, but you found out that he doesn’t really mind when you reach for him first.

“You can’t get rid of me, no matter how crazy or fucked up you think your life is.” You squeeze his hand, still staring at him.

You don’t notice the shooting star flying past the night sky, but Megumi is looking right at it. He knows what he’s wishing for.

For your words to be true.)

You’re still by his side, even when he brought you to his sister’s bedside. She’s sick, afflicted with something no one knows, not even the private doctors that Gojo’s spent millions on. She was still conscious, albeit confined to her bed when the two of you first met, but she’s been in a coma ever since the last year of middle school. You were by his side as he broke down about the news. It was the first time you’ve ever seen him cry.

So, no matter how much it may seem like he’s pushing you away, you don’t budge. For someone smaller than him and definitely weaker, you’re awfully resilient. And while people make the occasional joke, telling you to “blink twice if you need help”, you don’t pay any attention to them. If only they knew the truth: that you’ve got Megumi Fushiguro, heir to a massive yakuza clan, wrapped around your dainty finger.

He’s so whipped that he found himself asking Gojo for a rare favor.

(“College?” Gojo rubs the back of his neck, staring at Megumi. “I mean, I guess it’ll be good for you. Meet a wild party girl, take her to your dorm room, tame her—”

“An education is the whole point of attending, you know.” Megumi interrupts him before Gojo can jump into a story highlighting all of his sexual endeavors with college girls back in the day.

“Eh. I guess.” But then a grin lights up the feature of the man who [kind of/by definition] raised him. “But y’know what I know for a fact.” He wiggles his eyebrows, his glasses slipping down his nose as he tilts his head downwards. “You wanna follow [Name].”)

It doesn’t really matter if he’s not good enough to get into the university you’ve already received an early acceptance for. Because Gojo tries to make up for being an absent father figure, he fills in those empty spaces with cold, hard cash. All it takes is one nice donation, and Megumi’s wherever he wants to be.

Where he wants to be, he realizes, is to be by your side. Wherever you go, he’ll gladly follow. Funnily enough, despite the two vastly different backgrounds the both of you come from, you both have similar means of getting what you want.

Your father had already looked over the list of universities you had in mind, and all you could do was excitedly squeal and start rambling the moment the acceptance letters came in the mail. Despite the fact that your father’s physically absent from your life most of the time, he still tries to show he cares in the things he does for you. If paying off over half a dozen major universities in order to make you happy is something he has to do, he’ll do it without batting an eye.

It’s the same thing on Megumi’s end. Granted, Gojo’s means are more along the lines of using money as a lubricant and then death as an inevitable. Money talks, a gunshot to the head silences. Nobody can accuse anyone of taking bribes if said accused person is in a grave six feet under.

Sometimes, Megumi wonders how you’re just so oblivious to the fortunate circumstances in your life. You chalk up a lot of your father’s wishes as just “good luck”. In school, you’re placed on a pedestal, revered as some goddess-like, otherworldly being. People are practically tripping over themselves, running towards you for a crumb of your attention. Anyone sane would gladly wield this power and use it for all its worth. Not you, though. Not you, who’s kind and considerate and completely clean from the corruptness that plagues everyone else.

Megumi knows good and well that he’s not a hero — couldn’t be farther from it, if he’s being honest. He doesn’t feel a moral obligation to go out and rid the world of all evil. (It’d be hypocritical, he thinks, considering the fact that he’s most likely belonging under the evil category himself.) From a young age, he’s already known and come to terms with his fate. He’s going to train and learn from the best, and eventually, he will succeed as head of the clan. That is his purpose. That right there is the reason why he’s still alive today. That is why he can find himself sitting at his desk, submitting an application that’s already guaranteed to be followed up with an acceptance letter, ready to pretend for four more years that he’s normal.

“D’you think college will be fun?” You ask him, making yourself comfortable in his bed.

“No.”

You laugh at that. You like Megumi for a lot of reasons, and his honesty is one of them. Despite the fact that he likes to keep most of the darker details of his life to himself, you know that he would never lie to you. In a world full of people who are constantly lying, it gets tiring trying to figure out who’s real and who’s fake. It doesn’t help that you want to believe in everyone either. If you didn’t have Megumi loyally staying by your side all this time, you doubt you would have made it this far in your life without anyone taking advantage of you and your kindness.

“My dad said I can finally get a boyfriend when I go to college.” You say this fact so casually that Megumi almost — almost — gets fooled into believing that this is not a cause for concern. Almost.

“Oh.” He’s at a loss for words. He knows that it’s inevitable; that one day, you’ll find a guy you like and want to get closer to him. He knows that you’re not always going to be by his side, and he knows that it’s going to happen because he’ll have to push you away eventually. The older he gets, the deeper he’s burying himself into his grave. He doesn’t want you to get caught in the crossfire.

It’s not like boys have never tried approaching you before. People have spent years thinking that you and Megumi were a couple, and then after finding out from you that the two of you are nothing more than “best friends”, boys were still hesitant to talk to you. The glare Megumi would give them from behind your shoulder acted as a strong enough deterrent.

“I know. Now the only problem is finding a guy who’ll actually wanna date me.”

“They all will.” The words leave his mouth faster than he can even think about them. He’s not wrong, though. Every time the two of you are out in public together, he sees people shooting quick glances at you, at your ass, at your bright smile. The looks they give are predatory, dangerous, even. If it’s not your looks, it’s your shining personality that draws them all in. And if that’s not good enough, there’s always the enormous wealth attached to your last name. That’s the key to getting them to stay.

“You can be so sweet sometimes, you know that?” You giggle, glad that he’s still typing away on his laptop. If he were to look at you right now, he would see that you’re reacting way too positively to such a lackluster compliment. It’s not like he listed reasons on why anyone would ever want to date you, so he probably could just be complimenting you to make you happy.

(That’s just the excuse you’re going with. You know your best friend — that means you know that he would never say something he doesn’t truly think or believe.)

There’s a secret you’ve been keeping from him. A secret so big that you think you might’ve been keeping it from yourself, too. Something so big that your body simply can’t contain it any longer.

You like Megumi. 

Of course you do. You keep telling the whole world what great friends the two of you are. You talk to him about your dad all the time (which must mean he’s important, because you rarely get to speak to your dad, so you have to choose your topics of conversation wiseley). You trust him more than you trust yourself. Ever since middle school, you’ve been telling yourself that you liking Megumi isn’t anything to be ashamed or confused about. You like him because he’s your friend, and you’re supposed to like your friends.

And then you came to terms with the fact that you like Megumi beyond the borders of friendship.

It starts with you seeing him the way other girls must see him. You’re not blind, you know. It’s obvious that Megumi is far from ugly. If he wasn’t so intimidating, you’re sure he would have had his fair share of confessions, too. Megumi’s pretty, although calling him a pretty boy wouldn’t do his character justice. He’s got lashes people pay extensions for theirs to look like, and the prettiest dark blue eyes you’ve ever seen, and his hair, which he doesn’t put forth any type of effort in, always looks good whereas the same hairstyle would look messy on anyone else.

It’s not just his looks, though. Even if you look like the type of person who would judge others based on such shallow standards, you didn’t approach Megumi simply because he’s attractive. He’s… interesting. He’s got this reputation for being a delinquent, and maybe all the fights on his school record prove it, but he’s surprisingly respectful. He’s the type of guy who gets up from his seat to let an eldery woman have it. He loves animals. He’s honest and sweet despite his seemingly stoic nature, and he’s so oblivious to just how good he is.

Maybe it’s because he’s so blinded by the light that is you. You, with your cutesy bento boxes that used to be made by your team of personal chefs but are now made with your own manicured hands. You, with that bright smile of yours that he wants to always see because god — he thinks he would be willing to destroy the whole world if something were to ever make you so upset. You’re kind and beautiful and everything people write love songs about. You’re so good, and he’s nothing like you.

He’s nothing like you, because he highly doubts that you spend your time fantasizing about him like he does with you. It’s wrong, he thinks. And dirty, and disgusting, and vile. You’d hate him, he’s sure of it, if you knew what he thinks about late at night. That he sits on his bed with his cock pulled out from his shorts, leaking with precum as he strokes himself to the thought of you. Do you not see him as any other guy? Despite your lack of experience, surely you know just how dirty boys’ minds can be? You’ve got to be conscious of the fact that he’s any other guy, right? So, why — why — do you always roll around in his sheets, letting your sweet perfume stick to his sheets. Your tiny tops and skirts are always clinging tight to your body, and you never feel the need to readjust your clothing when it rides up. Do you not see him trying his hardest to look you in the eyes when the two of you are talking, despite the tantalizing sight of your skirt bunching up, exposing the smooth skin of your thighs?

Little does Megumi know (and if you have your way, he’ll never find out), you spend nights in your room, whining and trying to stuff your cunt with the same fingers that painstakingly made him his lunch. He’s your best friend since childhood. He looks at you like you’re an angel, and you don’t want to destroy that image by revealing just how dirty you really are. How every time he gets so close to you, you subconsciously bring your thighs together, trying to rub them together in a poor attempt to relieve some tension. He’d be disgusted with you, you’re sure of it. Maybe even betrayed.

Besides, it would never work out. Megumi doesn’t see you the way you see him. He might look at you with a soft look you’ve never seen him give anyone else, but that’s because you’re his only friend. It’s not like he’s harboring any hidden feelings for you, and just because you’re so convinced that there’s no one better than Megumi around, it doesn’t exactly mean that you won’t feel this way about anyone else.

Megumi’s got a rather monotone cadence with his voice, so you’re not too surprised by his seemingly unethusiatic response to you saying you’re now allowed to date. Still — there’s a slight pang of disappointment when you realize that he doesn’t sound jealous at the prospect of you dating someone else.

You decide right then and there that the healthiest thing to do now is to just bury your feelings for him deep inside your heart, to tightly pack in all those pesky feelings and store them away so you can make room to allow others to fill in his space.

gumi <3: where are you? gumi <3: i’m feeling tired and i have an assignment due tomorrow. i’m going home. gumi <3: you know i wouldn’t leave without you. cmon [name]. let’s leave now

Megumi frowns at his phone. He can clearly see that all his messages are being delivered, not to mention that he’s already called you twice and has been sent to voicemail twice. He can be patient when he wants to be, but right now, he’s getting a little pissed.

You know that he doesn’t like parties, and you know that he doesn’t hang out with the same people you do. He also knows that you don’t even really like most of the people you surround yourself with, so whyyou suddenly decided to do a 180 and reestablish your throne as the head of the social pyramid, he doesn’t know.

Lately, things between the two of you have been a little… weird. Sometimes he catches you staring at him with a sad smile on your face; one that you immediately replace with your usual one when you realize he’s looking right at you. Despite him asking you if everything’s okay, you vehemently deny that there’s anything wrong, and you’re quick to change the subject.

He thinks he’s losing his best friend, his only friend. And maybe it only hurts because he’s grown used to your presence in his life. Maybe it hurts because you’re his friend. But he knows the truth. It hurts because he’s losing you.

Did he do something wrong? Did he accidentally somehow reveal the extent of his feelings for you? Did you suddenly decide that maybe associating with someone like him isn’t something you’re meant for? Do you…

Do you hate him now?

It doesn’t matter. Maybe it does, but not right now. Right now, he’s more focused on getting the hell out of this stuffy ass living room, filled to the brim with drunken young adults and people he couldn’t care less about. The only person that matters right now is you, and he’s on a mission to find your location.

He’s got this ominous feeling in his gut, like something bad is about to happen. He’s Megumi Fushiguro, for fuck’s sake, so bad things have a habit of following him wherever he goes. But still, he’s made a personal promise to himself that no matter how bad things get, you’ll never get caught in the crossfire. He’s willing to die to keep that vow.

If you don’t reply to him, you most likely have a good reason. He doesn’t want to be clingy, is pretty damn certain he doesn’t even have a right to be, but he’s still worried about you. He’s pushing past the wall of sweaty bodies, trying to catch a glimpse of your hair color, the waft of your perfume, the familiarity of your laugh, but he can’t catch a single crumb of you anywhere.

You’re nowhere in sight, and he’s immediately filled with dread.

He yanks a guy who’s coming from upstairs.

“Ow, man, what the fuc—”

“Is anyone else up there?” Most of the time, the parties are restricted to just the first floor, with the unspoken rule being that only the upstairs should be used for people trying to fuck or to use the bathroom (or, people trying to use the bathroom to fuck). You’re not anywhere downstairs, and if you were simply using the restroom, you would have been back down here by now.

“Shit, I don’t fucking know.” The guy squints at Megumi, as if trying to see if he knows him or not. With the way his expression pales, Megumi comes to the conclusion that the guy might not really know him, but he knows ofhim. Gojo says that with the right reputation, the two concepts are practically synonymous. “But I heard a guy ‘n a girl, I think, walk past the bathroom. I don’t know who, though!”

Megumi lets go of the boy’s shirt, and he’s quick to run off before Megumi can give him any more wrinkles in his shirt — or do something much worse.

He’s thinking. Odds are, it’s probably not even you. With so many people roaming around this house, it’s likely that he just missed your presence. Your phone could have died, so that explains why he can’t reach you.

He finds himself heading up the stairs anyway.

It’s fine. He tells himself. You’re fine. You’re okay. Nobody would dare to touch a single hair on your head unless they want to suffer directly at the hands of Megumi. People around campus call him your guard dog, and it’s not necessarily a nickname he hates.

The atmosphere upstairs is vastly different from the one downstairs. There are no lights turned on, and all the doors to the rooms are closed. He hears a flush coming from one end, and out walks a tipsy girl who’s staggering a bit. There are only so many doors to choose from, and he doesn’t really want to accidentally walk in on two people trying to have sex, but the need to confirm your safety outweighs any possible embarrassment he may suffer from, so he continues on his mission.

The first two rooms are revealed to be empty, leaving just one more. Megumi takes a deep breath before trying to turn the handle.

It’s locked. 

His gut is telling him something isn’t right, but he’s forcing himself to chalk it all up to paranoia. He curses under his breath, wondering why he even let you out of his sights for a single second.

Because he didn’t want to seem clingy. Because he didn’t want you to have any more reasons to keep on pushing him away. 

He decides to call you one more time, and as he’s listening to the dial tone, he hears a faint sound coming from the other side of the locked door.

It’s a phone ringing.

He presses his ear against the door, trying to make out any more sounds he possibly can. Is it still a coincidence when the phone stops ringing right as Megumi is greeted with your voicemail message of “sorry, I can’t come to the phone right now, but you probably should’ve just texted me!”

Without the annoying dial tone distracting him, Megumi can listen a little more clearly to what’s going on. There’s… there’s someone crying.

The voices are muffled, but he can make out bits and pieces of what’s being said.

“—fuck up… crying like a damn bitch… want this.”

He’s heard enough before he’s banging his shoulder against the door.

“OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR!” He’s screaming, hitting it again. There’s a chance, the voice of reason inside of him is saying, that it’s not you that’s crying behind that door. Even if it wasn’t, Megumi still wouldn’t have stood by idly. But instinct is telling him that it is you, and that’s enough cause for him to bang his shoulder against the door once again. He hears a scream, and a male voice cursing.

The force of his body banding against it is enough to have the door really test the strength of its lock. Megumi’s never been the bulkiest person in the world, but he’s still got some defined muscle to him. The door is creaking, almost bending to his will, but he fumbles in the dark for the gun safely tucked away by his side.

It’s a gift from Gojo. To speed up the process when something needs to be done quick is what Gojo said it was for. He’s never used it in such close proximity to you, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

No silencer. He forgot the fucking silencer. With the deep bass rumbling from the speakers, he doubts anyone would be able to hear the gun go off anyway. He aims for the handle, pulling back the safety, and fires once, then twice. With a foot aimed at the door, he kicks at it, pleased to see the way the abused door finally bends to his will.

The open door reveals a scene that makes Megumi see red: you, with tear stained cheeks and your clothes bunched up and strewn across the floor with a guy Megumi vaguely recognizes as someone sharing the same Econ class as the two of you — Mahito.

“You fucking bastard.” Megumi practically lunges forward, tossing his gun to the side. He doesn’t see reason, is numb to common sense at this moment. All he feels is the need to hurt this fucker. To make him bleed, to have him on the brink of death, to see the light of life leave his dark eyes.

Mahito is fast, but even he couldn’t imagine the speed that Megumi would possess when pushed to the edge. This is different from the fights you’ve witnessed during school. This is something entirelydifferent.

The first punch has Mahito wincing in pain. The second, third, and fourth ones are thrown back to back, and there’s no time given to recover, no chance to gain the upper hand. He’s falling down, and Megumi’s on top of him, drawing back his fist only to slam it against him again and againand again.

Megumi knows he’s got something fucked up inside of his head — what other explanation is there to reason with why he finds this bloody violence so satisfying? His knuckles are bloody, and he can’t tell where Mahito’s blood starts and where his own ends. There’s a wild grin on his face, one that you’ve never seen before. You’re not sure if it’s a trick of the shadows, but the feral expression on Megumi’s face transforms him from your loyal best friend to something monstrous.

“‘Gumi, st-stop.” The words stumble out of your mouth as hiccups, but you don’t miss the way Megumi’s raised arm freezes in its higher position before he slowly brings it back down to his side. He’s breathing deeply, and all is silent in the room.

As if the sound of your cries is enough to snap him out of his daze, it’s almost scary how fast his mood shifts. Just a second ago, he was hellbent on beating Mahito to a bloody pulp, and now the darkness drowning those blue eyes of his is practically gone. He makes his way to the bed, each step hurried but still hesitant. Do you even want to be near him right now? 

You answer his question with some more small sobs. “‘Gumi, I—”

“Shh, it’s okay, [Name].” He’s picking up your clothes from the floor, ready to help you get dressed. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

“Megumi.” His name seems to be the only thing you’re capable of saying right now. After he helps you get dressed, he’s thrown off guard when you cling to him, with your arms wrapped around his neck and your wet cheeks pressed against his shoulder.

The moment the two of you are exiting the room, both of you far too wrapped up with the other to pay him any mind, Mahito lets out a laugh before groaning at the pain Megumi inflicted.

The two of you don’t know what you just started, but no worries — Mahito has the means of ending it.

It’s only a matter of time.

You’re too good to be true.

You won’t listen to him when he tells you this (you never do), but he swears you’re a fucking angel or something otherwordly. There’s no other possible explanation for just how breathtakingly beautiful you are, or how you’re the only thing consuming his every thought. Despite the fact that all the blood on his hands has reached an amount that he’s sure he’ll never truly be able to wash it all off, you don’t shy away from his touch. As a matter of fact, it seems like you’re keening for it.

“‘Gumi.” You mewl out, sticking out your tongue to lap at the precum on Megumi’s thumb.

You’re well aware of just how dangerous your boyfriend (the title makes you giddy every time you refer to him as that) is, but you know him. You know that the hands of a killer are the hands of your lover, and most of the time, you have a hard time believing the awful things he’s had to do with them. Because right now, those hands that are meant to be weapons are handling you with care, touching you so gently, you would have thought you were made of glass and ready to shatter.

“Look at you, all spread out for me. What happened to my precious, shy little girl, huh?” He removes the hand that was cradling your face back to his cock, stroking his length, the saliva from your tongue acting as a minor lubricant. The first time he fucked you was the first time you’ve ever had sex with anyone ever, and it had been the start of an addiction. You love Megumi. You love everything about him, from his character to his tenacity, all the way down to his cock, with its red tip that’s sticky with pre and leaking out more as he stares down at the obscene position you’re in.

Your face feels warm as he stares down at you, his eyes darkened with a mix of love and lust that you don’t think you’ll ever get used to being on the receiving end of.

“Need you, need you so bad, please, ‘Gumi—” You’re staring up at him, giving him your best doe eyes.

“Fuck.” Just the sight of you beneath him, completely bending to his will, whining out for him to pretty please fuck you has him ready to cum right on the fucking spot. He’s pressing the tip in, his breathing faltering just the slightest as the warmth you provide envelopes the most sensitive part of him, nearly causing him to lose all self control right then and there.

You let out a cry as he pushes himself deeper in you, making himself at home in your gummy walls, one hand gripping your hip and the other holding onto the headboard.

“You feel so good for me, baby, shit.” He hisses, waiting for you to adjust, impatient but willing to bear it if it means it’ll feel better for you in the long run. After all, there’s nothing he wouldn’t do, nothing he wouldn’t endure, just to ensure your happiness.

“Mm — ah — please.” There are still tears welling up in your eyes — precious girl, he hasn’t even began to properly fuck you, and you’re already tearing up? The sight of you completely and willingly at his mercy is enough to get him to start rutting his hips against yours, the satisfying sound of skin slapping against skin resounding and bouncing against the walls of his bedroom that is starting to feel more like the both of yours.

“Y’feel so fuckin’ good for me, baby.” He groans, his pace quickening, the thrusts getting sharper and rougher with every roll of his hips. You’re powerless against his strength, and this type of easy submission feels so natural, feels so good, when it’s him that’s taking advantage of it. “You’ve got the sweetest pussy, y’know that?  I could fuck you forever.”

His praise goes through one ear and out the other with you, but your heart swells up to twice its size. Even if you can’t focus on the words all too clearly, you’re still aware that Megumi’s probably praising you. You can come to this conclusion because he’s always praising you. He’s always so sweet, so gentle, so loving — when it comes to you, that is.

“Hng — daddy!” You can’t help but let out a high pitched moan as he hits that sweet spot inside of you that makes you buck your hips up.

There’s no way you don’t know what you’re doing. Clenching around his cock like that, making those cute little noises that he can’t help but want to hear all the time, and then calling him that.

“Daddy, daddy, daddy.” 

Forget igniting something within him; you whining for him, calling him something that’s the root cause of all his childhood traumas… That’s like dousing him with gasoline and tossing a lighter at him. He’s going to burn through all his energy, channel all this dark, feral energy, and use you as the one unfortunate enough to be on the receiving end.

He fucks into you so deeply that if your eyes weren’t shut tight, there’s no doubt that you wouldn’t see the unmistakable shape of his cock outlined against your tummy. The headboard is banging against the wall, and the squelching sounds of him roughly thrusting in and out of your sopping cunt is so lewd and so dirty that if you had any room to harbor a single ounce of shame, you would be downright embarrassed.

“How about you make me a daddy, huh? How about I fuck a baby in you?” He won’t lie and say it’s not something that’s never crossed his mind. The thought of your stomach round with a life the two of you created is enough to get him to continue with this near-brutal pace he’s set forth. “Doesn’t it sound nice, baby? My baby giving me a baby, what—” He grits his teeth as you tighten up. “—a fucking dream.”

“Baby. Wanna have your babies.” You cry out, tears spilling out and wetting your cheeks as your arms find their way to his neck and broad shoulders, trying to pull him in closer. The heat building up from within you feels like you’re about to fucking explode. “‘Gumi, I love you, Iloveyoupleasegimmeababy—'' Your words are practically unintelligible as you slur them out, the words sticking together as you cum all over his cock, all that pleasure that has been building up now physically tangible, if the white ring encasing his cock every time he pulls out is evidence.

“Fuck! You feel so fucking good. Always so fuckin’ tight.” He’s reaching his own end, and you’re just lying there, trying to recover from such an intense orgasm but unable to as your too sensitive walls clench around the constant intrusion of his cock. Spurred by your little love confession and his mind imagining his daydreams coming true — you, as his cute little housewife, taking care of the kids the two of you made together — he finally shoves himself as deep as he physically can, making sure that as he cums, nothing will spill out.

“‘Gumi.” You whisper, your head resting against his chest, listening to the beat of his heart. “Did you mean it when you said you wanted to start a family?”

He’s silent for a minute.

“I wouldn’t mind starting a family with you.” And he means it. He knows this life isn’t one meant for children — look at how he turned out, for god’s sake — but he thinks that for you, he can do anything. Even make a family work out. As long as it’s what you want, he doesn’t mind how hard it may be.

You snuggle closer to him, burying your face in the warmth of his chest. “Good.” You mumble. “I wanna start a family with you, too.”

Megumi feels… at peace. Like he’s got the whole entire world in the palm of his hands. He wraps his arms around you, and realizes that no — right now, he’s got his world right in his arms.

Mahito likes to play with his food before he devours them whole.

Humans are just so… vulnerable. Even the coldest people have a heart; it’s only a matter of whether or not they find someone warm enough to defrost it. Megumi Fushiguro, for example, likes to walk around this world, acting indifferent and claiming to follow his own moral conduct, only to give himself the biggest weakness he could possibly harbor: you.

He still remembers that party. He still remembers the way you were dressed like a little slut, completely oblivious (or maybe you were just acting coy) to the wolfish stares all the guys were giving you. He had the same class as you. Seen the way you clung to Gojo’s charity case, as if the ground would swallow Megumi whole if you let go of him. You’re cute, and you scream naive virgin, and that’s precisely why Mahito wanted to take you to that bedroom and have his way with you.

And then, your infamous little guard dog bared his teeth and pummeled him into the hardwood of a stranger’s bedroom floor.

Grudges are cancerous. If you don’t deal with it right away, it develops into something worse. It takes over all your internal organs, ruining you ‘til the only thing you can focus on is getting revenge. And the longer you wait, the more vengeful you get. It doesn’t become a matter of ruined pride or reestablishing honor — it becomes about inflicting the most pain one possibly can. It becomes about suffering — about transferring your pain, your anguish, onto someone else.

Mahito isn’t the type to hold grudges, but for Megumi, he’ll make a special exception. He wants to see just how well trained the boy is; after all, he’s been taken under the wing and supervision of Satoru Gojo, the myth himself. Surely, his student must be nearly as skilled, right?

It’s been a long game of watching and waiting on Mahito’s end. A lot of lurking in the shadows and gathering intel. It’s a lot more boring than he anticipated, but today’s the day where all his hard work finally comes to fruition. Megumi Fushiguro is going to regret ever interfering with him that one fateful night. The burning humiliation he’s felt has long since fizzled out, but since he’s already been set on the path of orchestrating Megumi’s destruction, he figures it only makes sense to see it through. You only can let go of a grudge after you get your proper revenge.

He’s been leaving Megumi all sort of taunting, teasing threats any chance he gets. Mahito’s got nothing but disgraced yakuza members on his side; those who have committed acts vile enough to get them kicked out of what is essentially a group of criminals. He knows how to be twisted — hell, twisted might be the only thing he knows how to be.

Killing girls that resemble you and sending him the photos. Taking videos of you when you’re out in public alone. Leaving voicemails for Megumi, ones that leave him pale faced and unable to breathe as he listens to how Mahito wants to tortue you.

Megumi’s been on edge for the past few months, unable to explain to you why. It’s why you don’t understand why Megumi won’t let you go back to your car, even though you left your phone in there.

“I’ll go. Or, we can go together.”

“You have to wait for our coffee! And besides, I don’t even know where I left my phone. It might not even be in the car, but you’ll just waste your time searching for it if it’s not there.”

“So then why do you have to go look for it?”

“Because it’s my phone? Also, I reeeeeallly don’t wanna have to wait for our coffee, so I figured looking for my phone in the car would kill some time.” You give him that sweet smile of yours that he loves so much before waving him goodbye. “I’ll be back by the time our order is ready, pinky promise!”

At the end of the day, it’s all luck. Mahito realizes this as you happily skip out of the crowded cafe, headed towards your car to search for your phone. He doesn’t know why you’re returning back to your car, doesn’t even really care. All he knows and all he cares about is that you’re headed there alone. And while you’ve been alone plenty of times, he’s never had an opportunity quite like this one. A chance to finally detonate the bomb that’s been lying dormant underneath your car, ready to be activated at the press of a button. He could’ve killed you plenty of times already, but it’s not enough to merely murder you. He wants to make it a spectacle, sure, but he also only cares about one audience member watching: Megumi.

From where he’s hiding, blending in with the rest of the customers from the bakery across the street, he’s got a decent enough view of Megumi, who’s sitting by the glass windows, watching you with furrowed brows as you unlock the car door.

Mahito can’t help the cruel smile that spreads across his face as pushes the remote connected to the bomb.

Nobody expects to hear the loud, resounding boom of something exploding. The surrounding cars parked next to yours have their alarms going off like crazy; it’s nothing but high pitched, blaring noises blending together to create a disruptive harmony. People are screaming, someone is on the line with emergency services, and—

—your precious car is set aflame, reduced to a burning pile of scrap metal no salvage yard will take.

In this moment, Megumi Fushiguro’s world crumbles to ashes.

#megumi fushiguro x you #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro x y/n #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #megumi x reader #angst #fluff #one shot #drabble #smut #megumi smut #jjk smut #jjk imagines #yakuza au #THIS IS SO OLD IM CRYING #like rereading it... omg what was i ON???

[royboyfanpage]

Okay, let's talk about Ollie's experience with fatherhood.

I'm an Oliver Queen apologist forever, but I think that there's a tendency in fandom to go one of two ways- "absolutely perfect dad, no flaws whatsoever" or "evil abuser who shouldn't be within six miles of a child". This isn't an Ollie exclusive phenomenon, a lot of characters and topics do fall into that black-and-white mindset. But the thing is- Ollie doesn't have to be either extreme. Particularly with Roy, who most of the debate centres around, Ollie wasn't perfect! I think there's such a rich discussion point in terms of young Roy's relationship with Ollie, so much more than just That Panel. Because, in my interpretation, Ollie absolutely cared about him, absolutely saw him as a son, but also the idea of being a father is something that deeply terrified him. The idea that this literal child being dependent on him made it feel more real, if that makes sense. Coming to terms with the fact that he was responsible for another person's life was difficult for him, and so he put up this wall- hero and sidekick. A conceptual dynamic, one that's not based in reality. He can keep that distance between himself and Roy and decide what that means, he doesn't have to be a father because that word has so many strong connotations, but he can still express that he cares about Roy, in his own way. That's why he always calls Roy 'Speedy' even out of costume, that's why his first thought is that Roy's undercover in Snowbirds. He can focus on being a good mentor to Speedy, which will have a trickle-down effect to being a good guardian to Roy, right?

Unfortunately, kids' brains don't work like that! Especially not a kid who's already lost two fathers. Roy needed a stability in his teenage years that Ollie just wasn't able to give at that time. He didn't see "Ollie's nice to me as Speedy because he loves me and doesn't know how to show it", he saw "Ollie's nice to me as Speedy, which means I'm only good as Speedy". This, at least in my opinion, is a major factor in Roy’s later self-esteem issues. Roy’s constantly underestimating himself as a hero, constantly comparing himself to Dick, and pushing himself 24/7 to improve because he internalised the idea that if he’s good, if he’s the perfect hero, then he’ll be loveable. He can’t be bad, he can’t fail, he can’t back down because if he does, he’s nothing.

It’s absolutely not Roy’s fault, but also this doesn’t mean that Ollie’s an evil neglecting abuser, either. Even the best parents fuck up, and Ollie was by no means the best parent. He took in Roy as a sidekick, as a buddy, and then never really found a way to combine the ideas of sidekick and son. He assumed that Roy would be able to interpret meanings behind gestures, which is something that Roy seems to struggle with even into adulthood. I’ve talked about it a fair bit, Roy’s absolutely someone who relies on the explicit, but he’s also not someone who’ll ask for clarification, which has caused conflict in his relationships time and time again. And while it's something he has gotten better at as he's gotten older, a 12-18 year old Roy would absolutely not be able to read Ollie's motives.

And Ollie's fear of fatherhood isn't something exclusive to Roy, either. Sure, he'd gotten better at it by the time Connor and Mia entered the picture (speaking as an oldest child myself, we are the guinea pigs of parenting, I was my mum's sibling), he absolutely still expresses this with them. I mean, just look at his face when he finds out Connor's his son.

That's the face of a man who's just had the crushing weight of parenthood slammed down onto him again, the moment Connor stopped being an ally and started being his responsibility. He's scared, because Ollie absolutely does not see himself as a good father for someone to have. This was very much present during Roy's teenage years, but particularly since this is post-Snowbirds. Both in terms of Roy developing a drug addiction and in terms of Ollie's own initial reaction to it, he immediately spirals. And, since we've already established he does not know how to process things, he lashes out at Connor.

And as for Mia, he's definitely matured significantly by the time she comes into the picture, and compared to with Roy he's a lot more open with his feelings. However!

He still won't explicitly accept the responsibility of fatherhood! Despite acting like a father to Mia in every way through his actions, he still won't use his words! Even though in the issue following, he expresses a paternal protectiveness over her.

And I think Mia's HIV diagnosis is maybe one of the biggest examples of his distancing himself and hiding his feelings, particularly when Connor asks him how he's feeling about it.

He's so fine, so totally fine, trust him when he says he's fine, totally not freaking out. He's absolutely not terrified for his not-daughter, no way.

Ollie has this fear that if he gets too attached to his kids, he's gonna end up failing them. If he keeps a distance from them, then he can't blame himself when they get hurt. Is this good parenting? No! Absolutely not! But this is also the man who dresses up as Robin Hood and who chose to die rather than lose his arm. This is not a healthy man.

But he tries, he tries so hard, even if it's in his own way. And he recognises when he fucks up! And he tries his best to mend it later on!

He's not the best at showing his kids that he loves them, but he's so proud of Roy when he becomes Red Arrow. He comes back to life to save Connor. He stands by Mia's side when she gets diagnosed and becomes Speedy. He's not a great dad, but goddamnit he's trying to be.

In conclusion, no, Ollie is not the perfect father. He's deeply flawed, and his own emotional incompetency has been and always will be a point of conflict between him and his kids. But he's not some uncaring abuser, either. He's trying.

#oliver queen #green arrow #connor hawke #roy harper #red arrow #arsenal #speedy #mia dearden #arrowfam #dc comics

[butdaddyilovehim-hs]

Obsession - Part 1

Summary: Y/N meets her brother's girlfriend's dad for the first time... and they can't seem to stay away from each other. Warnings: older!H, age gap romance, smut to come, angst

Word Count - 4k

"Jake, they're going to be here soon, right? You need to come downstairs so you can introduce me when they get here."

"Calm down, Y/N. I'm coming. Is the food ready?" Jake calls from his room. Y/N nods as she pulls the tray out of the oven before realising that he can't see her and yells back an affirmative. This is big. Jake had never invited any of his girlfriend's families to meet her - it had simply never been that serious before. But he seems to really like Isla, and Y/N, being the protective big sister, made him organise something. From what Y/N knows, Isla's mom is out of the picture, and she lives with her dad.

As Y/N quickly sets the table, she can't help but think about how much has changed since their parents' tragic accident five years ago. She was just 19 at the time, thrust into a world of responsibilities she hadn't been prepared for. But she rose to the challenge, becoming not only Jake's guardian but also his closest confidante and friend.

Now, at 24, Y/N is balancing her own life as well. She's in her final year at university, pursuing a degree in literature. Her love for books and storytelling has always been a part of her, and it's no surprise to anyone who knows her that she has chosen this path. Her dream is to become a writer one day, like her mom had been, crafting novels that will transport readers to different worlds, if only for a little while.

Jake emerges from his room, his usually tousled hair neatly combed. He wears a crisp shirt and a slightly anxious expression. Y/N can't help but smile at her brother. He has grown into a responsible and kind-hearted young man, and she is proud of him for taking this step.

"You look great," Y/N says, offering a reassuring smile. "Just be yourself, and everything will go fine."

Jake nods, though his nervousness is still evident. Y/N knows how much he cares about Isla, and she is determined to make this dinner a pleasant experience for all of them.

As they hear the doorbell ring, Y/N takes a deep breath and prepares herself, sneaking a quick glance at her brother, who looks even more anxious.

"Remember," Y/N whispers to Jake, "just be genuine. Show him that you truly care about Isla, and he'll see the same good-hearted young man that I see."

Jake nods, and they both make their way to the front door. Y/N swings it open and it takes everything in her to keep her jaw from falling open. Isla and her father stand in the doorway, the latter carrying a large bouquet of flowers. But the flowers aren't what has Y/N so taken aback.

The first thing that strikes her is his striking handsomeness. He has a timeless charm about him, with a chiseled jawline, piercing green eyes, and salt-and-pepper hair that only seems to enhance his rugged appeal. His eyes scan her up and down before he offers her a smile, one that Y/N feels in her core. He couldn’t have been older than 45, and he carries himself well. He oozes wealth and success, and Y/N has to remind herself to maintain her composure.

"Hello, Mr. Styles," she manages to say, though her voice quivers slightly. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you. I'm Y/N, Jake's sister."

Mr. Styles extends his hand with a warm smile. "Y/N, the pleasure is mine, but it's Harry. I insist,” he replies, his voice smooth and comforting.

As they shake hands, Y/N can't help but feel a subtle connection between them, beyond the initial surprise of his appearance. His hand is warm, and she revels in the touch before realizing she might have been holding on a bit too long. She quickly composes herself, dropping his grip as Isla introduces herself, and Y/N sends the young girl what she hopes is a welcoming smile.

As they all settle at the dinner table, Y/N tries to put her initial surprise behind her and focus on making the evening enjoyable for everyone. The conversation flows smoothly, with Jake and Isla sharing stories of their time together. Harry doesn't grill Jake like Y/N had been worried he would, but instead, he is polite and extremely well-spoken. The sleeve of his jacket slides up slightly while he speaks, gesturing with his hands, and Y/N's eyes almost roll off her head when she catches sight of the start of a sleeve of tattoos. He must have noticed her staring because Y/N suddenly feels his eyes on her, and she meets his gaze to find him wearing a slightly mischievous smirk.

"So, Y/N, we haven't heard much from you this evening. Tell me about yourself." He leans forward, taking a sip of his wine, staring at her over the top of his glass.

"Oh, um," Y/N begins, feeling the blush rise to her cheeks. She is mindful that Jake and Isla are also seated at the table, so she needs to control herself.

"I'm in my final year at university currently. I'm studying literature."

"Really? It's one of my interests as well. I used to teach it before I took over running my father's company."

"Oh, that's amazing. I'm the same way… Jake likes to joke that we're going to run out of space for all my books." Y/N laughs, and Harry joins in her laughter. Jake simply rolls his eyes, muttering to Isla about how Y/N is going to fill his room with books when he moves out.

"Y/N, I forgot to ask you about this, and Mr. Styles, I hope it's alright, but I actually managed to get Isla and me concert tickets for this evening. Would it be alright if we went? I promise we'll be back before midnight." Jake pipes up, rubbing his hands together nervously. Y/N shoots Harry a look, who simply shrugs and nods.

"As long as you're being safe, I think that should be okay. Have fun, you two. Y/N and I will clean up."

Jake and Isla quickly bid their goodbyes, with Y/N and Isla exchanging numbers, and Y/N making the younger girl promise to text her if she ever needs anything. When the door shuts behind them, Harry and Y/N are left alone, and the air in the room shifts considerably.

"So…"

"So…" Harry mimics, coaxing a small laugh from Y/N.

"You don't have to stay. I can clean up alone. I'm sure you'd rather get home." Y/N says as she starts taking the plates to the sink.

"No, I'd like to stay. Get to know you a bit more." Harry picks up the wine glasses and follows her into the kitchen. Her breath hitches as she feels him behind her, but he simply reaches over her to place the glasses in the sink before moving back to the table to grab more things.

"Are you sure? No one waiting for you at home?" The question slips out before Y/N can stop it, and she internally facepalms. Get it together, Y/N. He isn’t interested. He's older than her, by a lot. Even if he didn’t have a girlfriend, what he did have was a hell of a lot more experience.

Harry appears back in the doorway of the kitchen, holding more plates, his smirk back on his face.

"No… no one at home. Are you trying to kick me out? Got a boyfriend coming over?"

"No boyfriend. I… haven’t had much luck in that department." She turns away from him, facing the sink so he wouldn’t be able to see the blush on her cheeks.

"Really? Pretty girl like you? I would assume the boys would be falling at your feet."

She shakes her head in a silent laugh as she loads the dishwasher before pulling out two clean wine glasses, lifting one in offering.

"One more glass wouldn’t hurt. Then I’ll leave you to your evening." He takes it with a nod of thanks, opening the bottle, and Y/N moves to sit on the couch, bringing the glasses with her. He sits beside her, and Y/N forces herself to relax when she realises how close he is. She can smell his cologne now. It’s vanilla, intoxicating, and almost euphoric.

"It’s fine. I enjoy some new company once in a while. Jake is a great kid, but we do get tired of each other."

"He seems great. Isla really likes him."

"Isla’s really amazing. You’ve done a really great job with her."  At this, Harry looks proud.

"I appreciate that. Raising a kid alone has been a struggle, but we’ve managed this far. I can’t believe she’s going to be 18. So, I’m curious to know more about your thoughts on some classics.  I don’t know many people who take as much of an interest in books as I do. What are your favourites?

“I love this question. I've always been fascinated by the works of Russian authors. Dostoevsky, in particular, has this incredible ability to explore the depths of human psychology. 'Crime and Punishment' is a masterpiece in that regard.”

Harry nods, his gaze fixed on Y/N as if hanging on to her every word. 

"I couldn't agree more. Dostoevsky's exploration of guilt, morality, and the human condition is both thought-provoking and intense. 'The Brothers Karamazov' is another one of his works that left a profound impact on me.”

"And what about contemporary literature? Are there any recent books or authors that have caught your attention?”

Y/N pauses, considering her response, swirling what is left in her glass.

"Well, I've been quite taken by the works of Kazuo Ishiguro. His ability to craft emotionally resonant narratives is truly remarkable. 'Never Let Me Go' is a haunting exploration of identity and mortality."

Harry nods again in agreement. "Ishiguro's prose is beautifully understated, and his exploration of themes like memory and love is incredibly moving. 'The Remains of the Day' is another gem. I have a really great article on some of his work. What’s your number? I’ll send you the link.” He pulls out his phone and looks at her expectantly. 

Y/N rattles off the digits and her heart races when he phone dings on the table. She has his number. 

There’s silence for a moment as they both drink from their glasses. Y/N can tell they’re both well aware of the tension, but Harry is better at hiding how he’s affected compared to her. 

"Have you dated since Isla’s mother?" Y/N isn’t quite sure where the question comes from, but her wine glass is getting awfully low, and Harry’s presence is messing with her head. Every few seconds, her eyes wander to his lips, and Harry follows her gaze. They’re treading in dangerous waters, and they both know it, but for some reason, it’s even more exciting. Y/N shifts slightly on the couch, and her knee brushes his. Harry doesn’t flinch; he doesn’t move; he just keeps his leg where it is, maintaining the contact. She watches as he takes another sip of wine, his gaze fixed on her, his eyes filled with a mixture of curiosity and desire.

"Dated is a strong term. I sleep with people when I feel the urge. I haven’t met anyone that I’ve wanted to start anything serious with. No one I wanted to… what is it your generation says? Wine and dine?" He raises his glass in Y/N’s direction, his eyes locked onto hers.

Y/N can't help but laugh at his playful tone, even as her heart races at the implications of his words.

"Yes, wine and dine. That's certainly an approach, Mr. Styles.” She hadn’t meant for the name to sound as suggestive as it did. Or maybe she did. He swallows thickly at the use of his last name, shifting in his seat. 

“Well maybe I just haven’t met the woman who’s made me want to change.”

“That’s a… possibility.” He’s slightly closer to her now and his scent is overwhelming her. Her gaze flicks from his eyes back down to his lips again and this time, he calls her out on it. 

“Do you need something Y/N?”

“Hmm?”

“I asked if you needed something. You seem rather fascinated… is there something on my face?”

“Oh! No! There’s nothing on your face it’s fine.” “Just fine?” He teases and Y/N covers her face with her hands, her head spinning slightly from the alcohol. She looks up at him again, meeting his eyes and trapping her bottom lip between her teeth. He groans, almost inaudibly. 

“Stop looking at me like that Y/N or I’m going to think-” He trails off, before shaking his head and running a hand over his face. He stands, picking up his wine glass and moves towards the kitchen.

“Think what Harry?” Y/N follows him, standing in the doorway, forcing him to look at her. 

“I- I think I should be going. It was lovely to meet you and Jake finally, I’m sure I’ll see you again soon.” 

Y/N decides to play dumb. She is fully aware of what’s behind his sudden change of mood, and she knows he’s cautious. Wary. Normally she would be too, but the wine has made her bold and he’s captivating. 

"Harry," Y/N says softly, taking a step closer to him."Is everything okay?” 

Harry lets out a sigh, his shoulders slumping as he looks at her with a mixture of longing and frustration. "Y/N, you're making it really difficult for me to leave," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper.

“So don’t.” Her arms go up, around his neck and they’re close now. Close enough that Y/N can feel the warmth of his breath on her face. And then he’s leaning in. 

Their lips touch for the first time and it’s electric. Harry’s hands move up her body, tangling in her hair, pulling slightly and Y/N moans into his mouth. He quickly establishes dominance in the kiss, kissing her until she’s gasping for air. He walks with her, pushing her until her back is against the wall and he’s leaning into her. Harry pulls back for a moment to breathe and Y/N pulls him closer, wanting needing him in her orbit. He sinks into her touch for a second, two, three and then he’s pulling away from her, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Fuck.” He mutters, almost to himself and his internal turmoil is more than evident on his face.

“Harry? What’s wrong?”

“Y/N I’m almost twice your age. And this?” He gestures between them. “Can’t happen.” 

“Why not? You feel it don’t you? The pull? There’s something here.” Y/N steps closer and Harry lets her. 

“Of course I feel it Y/N and that’s why I know that whatever it is, we need to ignore. You’re young, and I’m well…”

“Just because I’m young, it doesn’t mean I’m immature Harry. As an adult, I’m telling you that whatever this is, I’m ok with it.”

“I can’t- I don’t… Y/N, I have to go.” 

Y/N stands there speechless as Harry pushes away from her. He grabs his jacket off the couch and moves towards the door. 

“Harry, let’s talk about this.”

“Thanks for dinner.” And then he’s gone, shutting the door behind him, leaving Y/N alone, incredible confused and slightly turned on. 

It’s been two weeks since Y/N saw Harry at dinner and it’s been about two minutes since she last thought about him. Well to be more precise, since she last thought about the feeling of his lips on hers. If she closes her eyes, she can picture it. The warmth of his touch, the way he pushed her up against the wall…

“Y/N? Are you even listening to me?” Jake waves a hand in front of his sisters face, noting that it’s the 3rd time that she’s zoned out during the conversation.

“Oh. Sorry. What were you saying?” Y/N forces herself to pay attention. 

“Isla said she’d text you but she wanted to know if you’d be cool with going over to their place to help her with an assignment for her literature class.” 

“Umm… is her dad going to be there?”

“Mr Styles?” Jake raises a quizzical brow. “I don’t know… why?”

“Uh, no reason. When does she want me to come over? I’m working most of this week except tomorrow.”

“I told her that, she said tomorrow was fine. Thanks for helping her Y/N she’ll appreciate it.”

“No worries Jake.” Y/N offered a small smile but internally, she couldn’t be more stressed. The thought of seeing Harry again, especially after he left in such a rush, made her incredibly nervous. Maybe he wouldn’t be there. Hopefully he wouldn’t be home. 

(4:09pm) Isla Styles: Hi Y/N! Jake told me you were happy to come over and help me tomorrow! Thank you so much! I should be home around 6pm, usually I work till 8 but I’ll ask to finish early. Dad shouldn’t be home so I’ll leave a key under the mat for you. Let yourself in at 6 if I’m not home yet and I’ll meet you there.

(4:34pm) Y/N: Hey Isla! No worries, happy to help. See you tomorrow :)

6pm rolls around and Y/N finds herself standing in front of the house… well mansion Isla had given her the address for. There are no cars in the driveway so Y/N assumes Isla is running late. But just in case, she knocks. And she waits. There’s no sound from inside the house so Y/N fumbles under the mat for the key and slides it in the lock. She’s aware she’s alone in the house but she still tiptoes inside quietly. The ceilings are high, and there is a large statement staircase in the middle of the entrance. Floor to ceiling windows are in excess and Y/N stands quietly in awe for a few moments. It’s modern, and clean and everything Y/N would want in a house. She finds the living room easily, deciding to set up the few things she brought to help Isla with her assignment on the dining table. 

(6:09pm) Isla Styles: I’m on my way! 15 minutes, I swear! Make yourself at home x

Y/N is opening her laptop when she hears a noise. A noise that sounds a lot like a moan. And then it happens again. It’s faint, muffled due to where she is in the house, so she moves from the dining table to the bottom of the staircase. 

“Fuck Harry. Right there, oh my GOD!” The woman’s voice is high pitched, her moans increasing in volume as Harry, from what Y/N can gather, fucks the shit out of her. 

“You like that baby? Gonna come for me? You feel so good. Fuck Y/N.”

Y/N stills at the sound of her name, not waiting to hear the other woman’s response before scrambling back to the kitchen. Did he just…? Surely not.

10 minutes passes and Y/N hears heels click clacking down the stairs. From where she sits, she gets a glimpse of a woman in a short blue dress, who lets herself out without another sound. 

At least they’re done, Y/N thinks to herself. 

She’s scrolling mindlessly on her phone, willing Isla to appear, when she hears footsteps. She didn’t hear the front door open again which means…

Harry appears in front of her, with only a pair of boxers on, making his way to the fridge and pulling out a bottle of water. He hasn’t noticed her yet and Y/N doesn’t really know how to handle it. But as usual, her mouth speaks before her brain catches up.

“Do you usually call the women you’re hooking up with my name? Or is that just a more recent thing?” 

He jumps, spilling a bit of water down his chest, as he realises who is sitting at his dining room table.

“Y/N what the fuck are you doing in my house?”

“Hello to you too. Isla wanted help with an assignment. She’s late, so she told me to let myself in. She also told me you wouldn’t be home. But obviously you are… and someone else is too it seems.” She smirks at how uncomfortable he seems as she makes her way over to him. 

“Isla isn’t home till after 8 on Saturdays.” Is all he can think of to say. 

“Mmm. You didn’t answer my question.”

“I’m not discussing my sex life with you Y/N. I told you, nothing is going to happen between us.” But even so, he steps closer. 

“Ok, but if you’re calling other women my name, you must want it to. And I want it to. So that makes us two consenting adults. I don’t think I can stay away from you, Harry.” 

Harry’s eyes shut as he inhales the smell of Y/N’s perfume, the intoxicating scent taking him back to the night a few weeks before. This time Y/N is the one to lean in, attaching her lips to his. She’s mindful that he was fucking someone else just moments before but in the moment she can’t bring herself to care. She can feel the moment that Harry gives in, caging her in against the kitchen counter, devouring her mouth with his. Y/N runs her fingers down his chest, revelling in the chance she gets to touch and feel. His skin is smooth and his curls are soft. She finds the harder she pulls, the more insatiable he becomes. 

“Y/N? Are you here?” Isla’s voice rings out from the foyer and both Harry and Y/N freeze, pulling away from each other.  

“Get out of here… when she sees you without any fucking clothes on she’s going to ask questions.” Y/N pushes on his bare chest and Harry quickly moves up the back stairs up to his room, but not before pressing a small peck to her lips again. 

“I’m so sorry I’m a bit late! Are you ready to get started?” Isla chirps, completely oblivious as to what was happening just moments before. 

Y/N nods, and starts to show Isla some of the books she brought when her phone dings. Once, twice, then three times.

“Someone’s popular!” Isla jokes. Y/N offers her a small smile as she flips her phone over. 

(6:31pm) Harry: You’re right.

(6:31pm) Harry: I don’t think I can stay away from you either.

(6:31pm) Harry: Let me take you out for dinner. Let’s talk. 

Y/N glances nervously over at Isla, who seems engrossed in her reading material. 

(6:33pm) Y/N: Ok. We’ll talk.

A/N: Hi!!! Thank you for reading, I am SO excited for this series to begin. What do we think of our characters so far...? Reblogs and Feedback are always appreciated 💋

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[mstormcloud]

More fankids!! Both because they are genuinely fun to make and give lore to but also because I made Mirai and then wanted to make sure she had friends!

Aster is designed by my friend Duetland!! (The last art is by them!!) They aren’t on tumblr but you can find him on Instagram @duetland :)

Lore for each of them under the cut! (LONG POST WARNING!!!!)

Gold and Aster:

Shadow and Sonics kids. They’re twins (with Aster being older). Both were babysat by Tails a lot and ended up picking up a lot of stuff from him as well as their parents. Gold became more responsible and significantly more polite (far more than either of his parents lmao) meanwhile Aster became interested in robotics. Specifically those related to space like rockets or planet rovers.

When the two were born there was immediate concern about their power imbalance. Aster was born with no powers at all, meanwhile Gold’s chaos energy was so high Shadow feared he would burn himself up unless something was done. Due to them being twins, it essentially ended up where instead of two moderately powerful hedgehogs - Gold got enough power for two while Aster has none. This leads Aster to resent Gold, less because she actually wants superpowers but more because Sonic and Shadow are always fussing over Gold (to make sure his powers aren’t harming him) and she feels like her parents don’t care for her. Causing her to push them out even more. She listens to Shadow more than Sonic, but they don’t end up talking through all this properly until Espio gets involved since unlike Sonic and Shadow who had powers all their lives - Espio had to teach himself his abilities and is able to empathize with Aster more.

3. Rhine

Rouge and Knuckles’ child. I’ve thought about her way less WHOOPS but!! Despite not being an echidna he looks up to his father a lot and promises to be the best guardian of the master emerald he can possibly be. Has a habit of just picking up shiny things like a magpie and will turn them into jewelry. Is blunt and gullible like her father but likes thinking things through before she moves. Uses the shovel claws more as weapons than actual shovels - he’s a bit of a neat freak.

Mirai and Gummy:

Mirais story is on my previous post! Not much has been added since then other than that I’ve decided she’s a bit of a troublemaker and very energetic, sarcastic, silly and kinda stupid. As for Gummy he’s about 7 years younger than Mirai, and I haven’t quite figured out what he’d be interested in yet haha

Eli and Anchor:

These two are half siblings! Eli’s parents are Amy and Metal. While investigating the ruins of a disaster, Amy and Metal find a child who who had been incredibly injured. They happen to be closer to Eggmans new hideout (where he has retired and is just kinda pouting by himself forever) than anywhere else - the two break in and force Eggman to help them save the child. Since the current Metal is Amy’s size, there were several smaller models for when he was “younger” - Eggman uses one of these scrapped smaller Metals to give the child cybernetic parts and saves their life. Amy and Metal then take the child back to their house and raise it as their own, with Eggman forcing them to bring Eli over frequently so he can see his grandchild.

Anchor is the child of Blaze and Amy! I’m just letting Amy be poly I think she has a lot of love in her heart and now she has two wifes. Anchor lives the Sol kingdom, and takes after her aunt Marine quite a bit with her love for adventure and especially sailing! When she was young, much like Blaze, she was brought before the Sol emeralds and blessed with a power. I feel like she’d be able to control / harness winds rather than fire though - to help with her sailing.

If you read all of this - thanks!! You didn’t have to but it was very nice of you!

#sth #sonic the hedgehog #shadow the hedgehog #sonadow #sonadow fankid #gold the hedgehog #aster the hedgehog #silver the hedgehog #espio the chameleon #espilver #espilver fankid #sonic fankid #Mirai the marten #gummy the chameleon #rouge the bat #knuckles the echidna #knuxouge #knuxouge fankid #rhine the bat #metal sonic #amy rose #metamy #Metamy fankid #Eli the hedgehog #blaze the cat #blazamy #Blazamy fankid #Anchor the cat #sonic fanart #long post

[saltymongoose]

Hey! I really like your headcanons and I wanted to send you send! Yandere Hank and Sheriff's older sister/brother Reader,who has a tough temper with everyone except his brother I would like to see how you implement this idea, and I apologize in advance for mistakes, English is not my native language.

Hello Anon, I really enjoyed this request, so thank you for sending it in. I hope you enjoy these (along with the rest of y'all of course). Your English is also really good, so don't worry! :) <3

The Start of an Extremely Unconventional "Relationship"

(SUM: Hank falls for Sheriff's Older Sibling who wants less than nothing to do with him.)

[TW: Yandere, Obsessive Behavior, Violence, Mentions of Blood and Injuries, Major Character Death (It's Hank, so nbd), Unhealthy Relationship Dynamics, the Reader is extremely tired.]

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When you were both growing up together, you’d always acted as another sort of guardian for Sheriff. It was only natural that you did so, as his oldest sibling and the first he could turn to whenever he got himself into trouble. Which happened a lot.

Whenever Sheriff got into a fight with his bullies or messed with someone he really shouldn’t have, you were the one he ran to when he realized he wasn’t a match for them. You couldn’t name the number of times you had to break someone’s nose or threaten them on his behalf.

However, even if you scolded Sheriff afterward for getting into all of the messes he did, you were happy to help him take care of them. It was just part of your responsibility to do so in your perspective, as his eldest sibling.

Plus, it’s not like it impacted your reputation that much to get into fights so often. People were kind of put off by your cold persona anyway, and you really couldn’t care less if they thought worse about you because you protected your family. (It’s not like anyone would fault you for having a soft spot for your troublemaker of a brother, but it did make how harsh you were to everyone else in school more jarring. Or was it the other way around?)

That’s not all either, since it’s not like Sheriff’s issues started and ended in physical fights.

You wouldn’t say that Sheriff was stupid - in fact, you’d argue vehemently that he was a very intelligent young man. But he was also the sort of person who had more “horse sense” than book smarts; intellectual in the way of the real world rather than the theoretical and strictly mathematical. Luckily, you had more than enough sense of both, so tutoring him was also one of your numerous tasks when your parents didn’t have time to.

Needless to say, Sheriff really admired you for how much you knew, and deeply appreciated you for what you did for him. Not only did you help him through his school, but you also protected him and even taught him to shoot when you figured he was old enough to handle a gun.

While you eased off on helping him so he could grow independent as you both got older, he still longed to make you proud - to prove to you (and himself) that the effort you and your parents put into raising him was worth it. This was one of the reasons he sought a lofty job in law enforcement, since he figured that type of authority would suit him and make him live up to these ideals you instilled in him.

However, he really reconsidered his choice of career when it brought you to the person he’d considered his nemesis, and the very same grunt who’d murdered him in cold blood: Hank J. Wimbleton.

Your first meeting with the mercenary was violent, but neither of you would’ve expected anything less. For Hank, it was a routine task of tracking down the Sheriff and trying to get rid of him. Or maybe he was just feeling particularly vengeful that day, you didn’t really know.

What you did know was that Hank’s first gaze upon you was short-lived but weirdly stifling. If anything, it was difficult to illustrate how oddly frozen he became when your furious glare met the red lenses of his goggles. It’s almost like seeing you was enough to force him to just stand there in the doorway as you blocked him from getting to your brother (who himself was tugging on your arm to try to get you to flee with him). 

He had his weapons out but he wasn’t actually doing anything with them, simply looking straight at you. Your dark leer didn’t earn any reactions, but the fact that you couldn’t make out anything about what the mercenary was feeling was very disconcerting. You were used to his violent side after hearing about it from your brother, so the absence of it was almost unwelcome.

For those few seconds, you felt an unsettling amount of dread.

In actuality though, Hank had been staring at you not just because you were an obstacle in his way, but because you were just so pretty he didn’t know what else to do.

It goes without saying at this point that he wasn’t someone who usually cared for physical appearances, but for some reason, you just struck him as someone that had to be admired, even by him. (No, especially by him, as he’d come to surmise.)

Maybe it was the controlled hate you clearly held for him within your eyes or the way your plush lips curled in a show of silent contempt. It could’ve even been the way you seemed so sure of yourself and your capabilities when you quickly aimed your shotgun right at him. He couldn’t pin down why you suddenly interested him so much, but that hardly mattered. Nothing seemed to now, except for satisfying this curiosity, no, want for more tantalizing reactions from you.

If you seemed so aggressive now, he wondered how violent you could really get. Perhaps you'd end up like him?

You were obviously more concerned about the safety of the Sheriff than you were afraid of him, which only made you more eye-catching. Breathtaking, even. Though you didn’t exactly give Hank much time to admire you.

Even if you’d been Sheriff’s role model, you truly weren’t anything like him; you preferred to take care of these sorts of issues as soon as they arose. Which in this case, meant taking advantage of Hank’s frozen state to fill his torso with buckshot until you knew he wouldn’t be moving again. 

You’re not sure if it’s because he let you or because you just got lucky betting on his incompetence this time, but you had killed him. That much you know for sure. However, because this is Hank, you taking his life wouldn’t be the end of it - it couldn’t be. Not when he was already so smitten with you at first glance.

(Neither you nor Sheriff thought that the event would be so impactful in the long run. Your brother was horrified of course, and panicked to you for days on end about how this would put you on Hank’s “list” as another loose end to tie up. You couldn’t help but laugh when he said that, which’d make him even more indignant and even pushy about it. You honestly couldn’t believe that Hank would have much of an interest in you, even after you managed to kill him. At most, you thought that he might make you into “collateral damage” if you were there when he attacked your brother again, but that wasn’t anything special.)

The thing is, the Sheriff was actually right. Just not in the way he thought, no, if anything the result was far, far worse than he could have predicted.

Hank was an unwelcome constant in your life after that. The bloody first meeting was replicated many times for months on end, as he deliberately sought you out for reasons unknown to you. You’d have agreed with Sheriff’s assessment of you being some problem for Hank to be rid of - perhaps even a new target by the S.Q. considering you might be a threat now. Unfortunately, that idea was defeated by the simple fact that Hank never took the first shot.

He’d simply barge (or break) into wherever you were, no matter what you were doing, and stare at you until you made the first move. It was genuinely bewildering, not only because you still didn’t know why the hell he bothered, but also because he didn’t massacre anyone else who was in the immediate vicinity of you. He just seemed satisfied being in your presence, even shaking excitedly whenever he saw your brooding form walk by. You really didn’t get it.

If you were in a good mood you’d just try to ignore him, but busying yourself with your job or simply pretending he wasn’t there could only work for so long. He just craved your attention for some reason; even if it led to blood being spilled, so long as he has some form of a reaction from you, he’s pleased with himself.

So he put himself in your way and disrupted you, mostly in a physical fashion. Seeing your expression twitch from that coldness you give everyone else filled him with an unfamiliar satisfaction, and the dark anger when he’s provoked you enough to deal with him was even better.

It felt good to be treated differently from everyone else this way, since he knows most of your workers are too inept to take the aggression that you’re capable of. Plus, to his absolute delight, you weren’t difficult for him to tick off. He knew you’d leap at the opportunity to put an end to your brother’s murderer. (Something he knew from Doc’s info about you, of course. For once the grunt was good for something other than giving him work and keeping him alive. Now if only he could get him to stop asking about you.)

Though, perhaps if you knew how much Hank truly reveled in feeling the true extent of your hatred towards him though, you would’ve made the decision not to engage in him so much.

Every bullet, burn, and stab wound was almost a gift from you in his eyes. The scars you left behind in your rage would be traced by his hands carefully after Doc had finished stitching him back together again. He didn’t know if what he felt for you was love (yet), but he adored the artful bruises and marks you left on him, and savored the more permanent indents you left in his flesh. Each commemorated one of his precious meetings and fights with you, so why wouldn’t he? He wondered now if you treasured the little nicks he accidentally left on you the same way.

(He knew you probably didn’t hold the same sort of infatuation for him, but he didn’t care. These were signs enough of the passion you must’ve had. After all, there is a very thin line between hate and love from what he’s heard, and with how vicious you were, you must’ve held a lot for him. He’s flattered.)

On the other hand, you simply found him as a very stressful, expensive annoyance. You could deal with the confusion from his lack of intent to seriously harm you (even if it was mind-numbing to consider, for someone like him). What you couldn’t deal with was the acts themselves and how he continued to be a nuisance in your life.

For one, it often led to you having to clean up the area that he’d broken into, because he never cared if you were busy at your job or just minding your own business at home. This also led to people like your coworkers and neighbors speculating and prodding you on how you knew him, which was another nuisance entirely. You don’t have any answers for them, which only makes their incessant questioning worse. Headaches are common for you now.

(It’s not like it would be very believable to say that he liked you enough to pester you. You didn’t even know if Hank could like people, and you really didn’t care enough to ask him what he thought of you. It already seems like it would be trouble if he believes you’re interested in anything about him. He already does, unbeknownst to you.)

It was also too much work to simply fight him in your opinion, even if you willfully did so. You just loathed having to waste the effort to get rid of him even for a little bit. It became so bad that you even griped openly to him about how you hated having to waste your precious ammo and medical supplies on a fight that wasn’t even worth it. Why would it be, to battle an enemy that never stays dead?

(You grimaced when you searched his now-cold body to find extra shotgun shells and packaged slugs, accompanied by a note holding a scribble of a heart drawn in scratchy red ink. He was giving you gifts now, ugh. And what the hell could that heart possibly mean? Did this mean he actually liked you or was this some sick psyop to catch you off guard and get him a win next time? You aren’t sure which is worse.)

Plus, to make matters worse, your brother also caught wind of it and it nearly gave him a heart attack. You, his dear older sibling, being under the scrutiny of Hank was the furthest thing from what he wanted. He knows you got into this just to protect him, and he feels almost nauseous with guilt over it already. So now you have to both reassure Sheriff that it’s not his fault (it’s not like he could possibly know just how delusional Hank was), in addition to risking your own life for practically nothing.

In contrast, however, Hank absolutely loves his interactions with you. Violence is his favorite thing to take part in, so if anything he considers these to be like little bonding sessions together.

He knows deep down that you two are far closer than that after all the time you’ve spent together, even if you’d deny it. The side you show him when you engage in your rather violent trysts is one you haven’t shown anyone else (mainly because there hasn’t been anyone you’ve genuinely hated so badly), so he knows that he knows you better than any other grunt.

Hank accepts you for who you truly are, despite how much you resist his strange “affections”. Besides, he knows what the two of you have is special. There’s nobody else in Nevada who can be yours to harm and come back from the grave so many times, just as he’s never enjoyed being at the mercy of someone else when in combat. Your connection was just unique like that, and he knew you had to have at least some inkling of similar feelings. It’s almost like you were made for each other, in a way. To him, you were so alike in your rage, no matter how much you’d despise that thought.

(He remembered how his hands trembled as he placed them over yours, the combat knife you held just inches away from his stomach You’d been getting better at this; you’d managed to nearly gut him within only a few minutes. He was proud, and he figured you should be too.

“You enjoy this,” he rasped and your frown deepened. “Fighting me. You put so much work into it, and I can see it.”

“Killing you.” You corrected simply, twisting your wrist to break his hold with a huff. “I enjoy killing you. And I’d love it more if you’d fucking stay dead, you prick.”)

Eventually, Hank even begins to want more than what you have now. Those minutes he spends in your presence whenever he, well, has time to die, simply aren’t enough. He knows it’s one thing to see you in your element battling it out with him, but now he feels the need to observe every other facet of your being. Which, of course, means spending a lot more quality time together.

Hank can be stealthy, but he’s not even trying to hide how he’s keeping tabs on you. If you’re at work, then he’s a customer, if you’re at home, he’s a guest, and if you’re visiting your family, he’s your chaperone. You just can’t put a stop to the constant visits he makes to do nothing but look at you. His place is that of an unwelcome voyeur into the once-peaceful routine of your daily life.

(Again, Sheriff is completely fear-stricken when he sees you walk in side-by-side with his killer. He knows you’d never let anything happen to him, but the shock of it is almost too much for him to handle. It’s obvious that you’re just as confused as he is, but you mask it with indignation at having to put up with the tall merc for longer than you normally have to.)

Usually, you have no issue starting an altercation just to get rid of Hank, but you really don’t want to do that around others more than necessary. Of course this just emboldens your acquaintances to ask about why a well-known murderer is following you around like some sort of gore-covered lost puppy.

(“So…like, why is he here?” Your coworker whispers to you in a panic, feeling a shudder roll down them when Hank stares at them. They can practically feel the rage he has, and for what? Speaking to you? Existing?

You respond with a blank stare, and it's now that they notice how exhausted you appear. “He would not still be here if I knew of a reason why.” It was a vague, non-responsive answer, but when they opened their mouth to question further, the sharp look you gave them was enough to make them drop it. Even in the oddest situations, you still seemed the same. It didn’t stop your…companion from threatening them later though.)

That was yet another issue for you to deal with; his weird possessiveness over you. Even after you were more or less forced to put up with him being there more permanently, he still seemed to want some sort of monopoly on your attention.

You had assumed whatever connection between you two was built purely on mutual dislike of the other; there was no other reason why he decided to fight you those many dozen times. Yet, here he was, leering at everyone you interacted with until they decided to flee the immediate area, or damn-near growling whenever they had the nerve to touch you.

In Hank’s mind, he really doesn’t question why he feels so protective over you, and almost jealous when he’s not the object of your attention. It just seems so natural that he doesn’t think it’s odd at all. From his perspective, you’re the only person who could ever have such a hold on him, so it makes complete sense that he’s the only one deserving of all of your time.

Plus, those people get in the way of his objective here anyway; to file away every piece of knowledge he can get from simply watching you. You’re too wary to act like he’s not there, even if you try to pretend you can. However, he’s found that he just enjoys the sight of you simply being, even if it’s not completely natural on your part. It’s far from the fulfillment he gets when you’re trading blows, but enough to sate that part of him that hungers for you.

In the end, he doesn’t know whether or not you’ll ever fully return these feelings he has for you, but he doesn’t find that he cares that much. He’ll continue to be around you regardless; so long as you can tolerate him this much, anything further is just a bonus. (One that he might secretly hope for, but he won't stake much a chance on it.)

To you, it's obvious Hank wants something, but you can’t pin down what. (In your dread, you’re not even sure you want to.) It seems like he gets his fill by being near you somehow, which is less of a relief than you initially assumed it would be. What was once solely comprised of violence eventually became a terse existence in each other’s presence that was just as tiring as the former. The silver lining for you was that you could keep him away from Sheriff with little effort, and for that, you were actually happy. You could put up with this to keep him safe, you reasoned, no matter how bad it got. Which it likely would.

Considering how in the dark you were about Hank in general, you had no idea of the deeper feelings and morbid fascination he had for you, but it’s imminent for you to find out. After all, Hank’s intention to become a permanent fixture in your life came along with his need to be even closer to you than he is now. And once he finds a way to, there’ll be nothing stopping him from keeping you and your enthralling reactions to himself. Forever.

#tw: yandere #tw: violence #Finally omg this took way too long. #This is like the antithesis of a meet-cute. #yandere hank j. wimbleton #hank j. wimbleton x reader #yandere madness combat #yandere madcom #my writing #this is too in depth to be hcs so idk what this is instead eheh

[julietsbb]

that moment when your brain has the biggest explosion because you just realised the emotional resonance, relevance and symbolism for the characters of that ‘Yok’s seduction plan’ scene.

Porsche is first and foremost a caretaker and protector (older brother, guardian, financial provider of the family, literal bodyguard). Since his parents died and until he joined Mafialand, his entire existence has been For Chay (‘you’re not allowed to die before Chay finish college’). Only after his entrance into Mafialand releases him from his financial responsibilities towards Chay, he’s suddenly in a place where he can grow into learning to live and want things for himself, even if he struggles with it a lot at first (‘to hell with happiness’, his no fucks given attitude throughout ep2). All this has been well established and discussed by this lovely fandom.

Throughout the episodes so far, see him visibly struggle with both knowing what he wants, figuring that out, how to even want things for himself, etc., and he never ever asks for it. He’s a giver. He even wants to give Kinn the perfect date. As one of my friends put it, he knows how to be Kinn’s, but he struggles with the concept of Kinn being his in return. Porsche is living with the internalised concept of being FOR other people (mostly Chay, now including Kinn), but they are not For Him.

What we see in episode 9 is that Porsche is put in a situation, where he desperately craves reassurance as a threat to his newfound happiness emerges. He just: a) doesn’t really know that’s what he’s craving, b) doesn’t know how to ask for it and c) is just feeling very confused and conflicted about his place at Kinn’s side, poor baby :(

So what does he do? He goes to Yok, because that worked last time :D

So that whole magnificent scene with the two of them is an extremely transparent front for a way Porsche gets to ask for care and reassurance, but still hide behind the elaborateness of the ~plan. He pretends he isn’t feeling well, so Kinn coming running, proving he cares. He asks Kinn to do something for him, to take care of him, to get a little taste of what he so clearly craves. And then he goes straight to their go-to device for reassuring each other of their mutual feelings: sex.

And Kinn immediately clocks that this is a-typical Porsche behaviour. Straight up calls him out on acting weird. And this is why I think it’s so important we get the little [‘you’re acting weird’ / ‘do you like it?’ / Kinn confirms he does indeed like it] exchange. Because this is Porsche stepping out of his comfort zone (we even get the dancing scene of him trying to ‘pump himself up’ for it) and asking for something - and he very much needs that to not be rejected. He needs to know that him asking for something, even if in an extremely elaborate manner, is actually okay.

and this has been another long rambling post by yours truly, tl;dr the silly couch scene is actually extremely emotionally resonant for where the characters are in that moment [steps off soap box]

#kinnporsche #analysis #? #kinn x porsche #yok #kinnporshe the series #porsche pachara

[jadewing-realms]

i don't know if there's a specific term for the thing when... you're so used to being told you're too much? too loud, too quiet, too stubborn, a pushover, too excited, too cold, too close, too distant... so you just kinda give up doing anything without explicitly being told to because you just can't figure out where the balance is?

especially physical affection. what's 'too much'? when is it okay to hold hands? how do you know when you're allowed to hug someone? gods forbid you give someone a forehead kiss at the wrong time and make them uncomfortable. you don't know how to intuit what anyone needs at any given time so... you figure you should just... not move. unless someone specifically asks you to.

whatever That is, it's how i imagine Naven is. stuck in perma-freeze response, unless he has a designated Role to Play. he's been molded into the model support system. he enjoys making others feel good. he likes seeing them smile. feel safe. he always asks how others are feeling; he always asks for their permission before doing anything that might affect them. he's thoughtful, quiet, agreeable. he never asks for things for himself, and he certainly never takes up space... it's been too long since he had permission to. he's always had to be the caretaker, the older sibling, the protector, the adult, mature, rational, self-sufficient, the perfect island content with simply being ground for others to walk on.

i think this is why Astarion catches his attention right away. the vampire seems so... fearless. not in the usual sense, the heroic sense, but in that he's not afraid to be loud. to say what he's thinking. to take up space and a lot of it. and he's funny and confident and charismatic even when he's being an asshole and Naven is a little in awe of it, muzzled and afraid to misstep as he is.

how does one go about being so unapologetically flawed? he wants to know.

then of course... he learns more. glimpses cracks in the mask. learns of the fears behind the facade, learns that what he'd been witnessing wasn't Astarion saying what he was thinking but saying what he believed others expected or wanted and oh, Naven understands. and now he swears he will do anything in his power to help Astarion feel as safe and respected and loved, truly loved, as he can. he's good at that. and... it works. Naven is used to feeling blind to what others want from him, he tries to account for what he can't see so nobody ever feels unheard or unseen. Astarion is used to having any and all his boundaries crossed, he's relearning how it feels to be treated as an individual. he's also not interested in a protector or guardian... he wants an equal. something neither is used to having but both crave like they crave air to breathe.

sitting by the fire at camp, Naven asks if it's okay to lean on Stari's shoulder, maybe even hold his hand. some other time, Astarion is upset and is surprised when Naven asks whether he needs comfort or advice or space. even more so when he asks for space and Naven accepts without question or second-thought and simply waits until Astarion is ready.

at night, a nightmare and anxiety attack leaves Naven a frayed mess and he dares to ask for a hug for himself for the first time in more than a century and gods is Astarion more than willing to give him one. later, Naven feels guilty for being frustrated about something and Astarion tells him to let himself be angry for once. that nobody will hate him for it.

Stari says he needs a little excitement, asks if Naven would like to visit the market street with him; Naven's had a burst of muse and needs to be alone to write. they're both fine with this and hope the other enjoys themselves for the day. Naven asks if he'd like a kiss for luck; Astarion accepts it and gets Bardic Inspiration to schmooze some vendors later, I dunno.

ask and receive. a cycle of love and respect. giving each other the freedom and space to just... be. exist, as they are, together. over time, they get to learn not only about each other, but about themselves, what they like, what they don't. and that it's okay to speak up about both.

#just me musing again #consent is sexy guys #this turned out a lot longer than i thought it'd be #still missing a cable for my tablet so I can't just draw this like I wanna #bg3 #bg3 tav #my tav #astarion x tav #tav x astarion headcanons #baldur's gate 3 #naven tlin'orzza #astarion ancunin

[stardustdreams-andcaffeine]

Prey | Bucky Barnes

bucky barnes x oc ✧ oneshot

Summary: OC and her brother are being hunted by the Winter Soldier to atone for the sins of their father. For reasons the Winter Soldier cannot explain, he finds himself helping this girl escape the very people he works for.

A/N: This is one of my favs, hope you all love it like I do! I always gravitate towards oc's but I've got some reader inserts to post as well. I have like 60 one shots already written so I'll be systematically editing and uploading them here, pls enjoy friends! Also, if you have literally ANY requests, ask it up! I love being of service 🤍

Warnings: oc, severe angst, violence, suspense, winter soldier bucky, mention of past abuse, protective bucky, fluff at the end

Word Count: 13,191

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He's been hunting us for days now. 

I don't know why. I don't even know who he is. It all happened so fast, one minute I was sitting in my apartment with my closest and really only friend, the next I was getting a frantic call from my little brother saying a man had shot up the family house.

A man with a metal arm.

My little brother, Cody, has been living with my dad alone ever since I moved out. He's nearly 18 and fully plans to leave the moment he can. I tried to persuade a few social workers to let me become his legal guardian to get him away from that sorry excuse for a father, but my attempts were in vain. Even though I'm older than Cody, old enough to be considered responsible for his care, my father stood in the way. However awful our dad may be, he's a high-ranking government official and has power. There was no way he was going to let his daughter take his son away from him. 

In a way, I think he's lonely.

Our mother passed a few years after I moved out to begin my adult life. If she had died before and my father had begun acting the way he did while I was still at home, I never would've left Cody there alone. I did visit rather frequently, trying to deflect any scorn or more...physical reprimands onto myself as much as I could. Our star of a father just happened to be away on government official business when I got the call.

Now here we are, huddled together on the same bed of a grimy motel, my brother restlessly asleep with his head in my lap while I keep watch. He begs me every night to wake him up halfway through so he can take watch.

Every night I ignore him and let him sleep.

I haven't slept in two days, both of which we've had to constantly relocate and run away from the man with the metal arm. He always manages to find us, no matter how careful we are. Somehow, by a miracle, he hasn't managed to kill us yet. In fact, he has yet to get close enough to get a good enough look at us. 

The untraceable pay phone in my trembling, exhausted hand rings, the sound repetitive and hopeless.

"Come on" I whisper, biting my lip furiously, "Pick up"

Once again, for what must be the thirtieth time, my father doesn't answer my call. When I hear the phone tell me to leave a message, I decide that after this one I will call and leave no more. By now, I'm almost convinced that he's in on this whole thing.

"Dad, it's your daughter, Caroline Bane. Remember me?" I begin, trying desperately, and failing miserably, to keep the anger out of my usually quiet and anger-less voice.

"Oh and your son Cody Bane is here too. If it wouldn't trouble you too much, maybe you'd like to pick up your phone and realize that your children are being hunted," I spit out, keeping my voice low to not wake up my brother, "I know you never really cared for us, but mom did. I wonder, what would she think of you if she could see you now? Blowing off our calls and leaving us to die?"

I pause, trying to keep the tears that water in my hazel eyes at bay. I bite my lip hard to keep from crying, I refuse to let this man hear me cry. 

"I don't know what's happening, I don't know what we did or what you did but for once in your life can you be a man and own up to it instead of letting your kids take the fall?" I grit out, a tear managing to slip down my cheek despite my best efforts to keep it in, "Randall Bane, you are a coward. You never have been and never will be my father."

I end the call, a few more tears slipping down my heated cheeks. Never in my life have I spoken with such venom to any single person, but I know, I just know, that my dad's involved in this. All of my pent up disappointment and anger towards him and the way he's beat on both me and my little brother just spilled out. I wouldn't care if he only beat on me, if he only hit me and yelled at me I could take it. I'd be able to push through it. 

But no one, not even my father, has the right to hit my little brother.

My brother stirs lightly on my lap.

"Carrie? Everything alright?" Cody mumbles, his groggy voice heavy with sleep. I nod and smooth back his hair that's the same rich brown as mine. 

"Everything's just fine," I whisper soothingly, trying to keep the emotion from my voice, "Sleep, Cody"

In a few seconds, he's fallen back asleep peacefully. When he does, I feel a tear slip down my cheek. He's only a kid, he shouldn't have to deal with any of this at such a young age. In the time since our mom passed, I've been less a sister and more a mother to Cody. I was always there to smile and laugh with him, to joke around and play video games with him. I made sure he did his homework and didn't get into too much trouble. When he'd have break downs, I'd be there. When his heart got broken, I was there. When our dad tried to hit him, I stood in the way. 

I'd do anything to protect my brother. 

I smile softly down at his sleeping form and carefully slide his head off of my lap and onto the pillow near him. Then, I carefully climb off of the bed and stand, stretching out my aching muscles slightly. I let out a long sigh and walk towards the window nearby, cautiously moving the curtain the slightest bit to look out.

I'm not used to constantly living in fear. I don't like it, not one bit. Neither Cody nor I know how to use a gun or even a knife properly. Obviously, we can give it our best shot but up until now it's been pure luck that we've stayed alive. We've managed to drive away or hide before the man with the metal arm could find us. If he had managed to get any closer, we surely would've been dead. We tried calling the police, but the officers who came were dead within minutes. Now, I have no clue what to do. I don't know how much longer we can run and hide. I don't know how much longer my luck will last.

I'm just about to step away from the window and close the curtains when something catches my eye. A large, black SUV swerves into the parking lot silently and only a single man steps out. Once I see a flash of metal, I jump away from the curtains with my heart in my throat. My pulse begins to race and adrenaline immediately floods every fiber of my being. Intense fear strikes to the very depths of me as I scramble to figure out the best escape plan. 

First, I have to wake up Cody.

I sprint over to the bed and clamp a hand over my brother's mouth to keep him from making a noise. Then, I shake him awake. He starts with a gasp, his hazel eyes matching mine flying open in a panic. When he turns to me, he relaxes only slightly. I put a finger to my lips, to which he nods. When I remove my hand, I speak hurriedly and in whispers. 

"He's here, we have to go" I rush out, scrambling around the room and grabbing our already packed backpacks. As he jumps out of bed and does the same, a few gunshots can be heard in the distance. We both freeze, looking at each other with wide eyes.

No doubt he got our room number out of the man at the front desk, who is no doubt dead now. I don't have time to dwell on the immense flood of guilt and terror that inundates me, but rather begin to shove my brother towards the bathroom and hand him both of our bags.

"There's a small window in there, get it open and get out" I command, looking up at the window just large enough to fit a body through. Cody begins to do as I say, but pauses to look over at me as I look around for any sort of makeshift weapon I can find.

"What are you doing? Aren't you coming?" my brother asks, his wide eyes locked on me. I snap my gaze up to him, sympathy pouring through me at his fright. 

"I'm gonna buy you as much time as I can, now go." I order, finally managing to pry off a bar from the wall and moving out of the bathroom.

"Caroline wait, please!" Cody calls to me, emotion thick in his tone. I spare him one last glance as he works on the window.

"Don't wait for me, get in the car and find a safe place. Please, Cody. Please just listen to me" I beg and before he can protest, I slam the door shut. Just as I do, I hear footsteps outside our motel door. 

My stomach lurches at the sound and I sprint towards the door, my mind racing for a solution. I stand right beside it, the heavy metal bar trembling in my hands. When the man with the metal arm opens the door, I plan on hitting him as hard as I can with the bar. Hopefully, by the time he gets past me and to the bathroom, Cody will be gone.

Even if it takes my life, my little brother will get out of this.

A crash sounds from the bathroom, signaling Cody has broken the window. My relief is short-lived when only a second later, the door to the motel room bursts open. Fear grips my heart but I don't freeze. When the man with metal arm walks into the room, his eyes survey the empty area in the belly of the room as the door shuts behind him. Holding my breath, I move from my blind spot by the door and swing the metal bar as hard as I can at his head. It slams into his skull, but not as hard as I'd like. I'm nowhere near strong enough to knock a man as big as him unconscious.

The man is sent off of his balance, lowering his gun slightly as he recoils from the hit. I take the advantage and move to hit him again, but just as I'm swinging, he whirls around and catches the bar mid air with his metal hand. I freeze, my eyes wide with fear as the bar bends in his metal grasp. His eyes lock onto mine for a moment and I realize that it's the first time I've been this close to the man with the metal arm.

His eyes are blue, a bright, intoxicating blue I've never seen. The kind of blue that makes me stall for a moment.

From what I can see, he doesn't seem near as old as I thought he'd be. It perplexes me that someone so young could be so incredibly lethal. His long, dark hair hangs dangerously around his face, covering up what little the mask that goes up to his nose doesn't. Within a moment, my examination of him is over as he rips the bar from my hands and throws it aside. Then, just as he's about to shoot me, a small curse of pain comes from the bathroom.

My world stops.

Cody must've been cut by some glass on his way out, and I feel the walls begin to close around me. The man looks over towards the bathroom and back to me slowly. I begin to shake my head.

"No, no! Please!" I beg, but he crashes the butt of his gun against my cheek and sends me sprawling to the floor. 

I groan in pain and look up to see the man with the metal arm stalking toward the bathroom. My heart lurches and I find the strength to force myself to my feet. I sprint over, the world swerving only slightly as I do. Just before he reaches out to open the door, I shove myself in between the man and the thin wood hiding my brother. I brace my arms on the doorway, making myself a sort of blockade. 

"Leave him alone, please!" I shout, my hair hanging wildly and some parts falling into my eyes, "He's just a kid, he's a kid."

This seems to make the man with the blue eyes pause, but only for a moment. He begins to reach out to throw me aside to get to my brother before he makes it out of the window, so with a racing heart I blurt out the first thing that comes to my mind.

"If you have to kill us kill me! Please kill me, not him!" I shout, beseeching the assassin. 

The man freezes, his eyes widening slightly. He wasn't expecting that.

"He's a kid, please! Kill me, not him. Kill me." I repeat, the words loaded with desperation. I can only hope and pray that Cody is at the car about to make it away before anyone else who might be in the van sees him. 

As my desperate eyes stay locked onto the man's bright blue ones, I furrow my brows as I catch the slightest bit of hesitation. Who is he?

In the silence of his conflicted, shocked eyes burning into mine, I hear the revving of a car engine and tires screeching as a car drives away. Relief like I've never felt it pours through me, flooding every fiber of my being. The car is enough to bring the man back to his senses, and he throws me aside before shoving his way into the bathroom. I hit the wall and quickly rebound, looking into the bathroom over my hunter's massive body and smiling when I find it empty. 

He's safe. 

Outside I hear car doors open and about a dozen more feet pounding up. My heart drops as I realize that he's not alone. Thankfully, the guards, at least that's what I'm assuming they are, didn't follow Cody but now they're outside the room. The man, now beyond furious, walks over to me and grabs me by the throat, slamming me so hard into the wall that my bones creak. I gasp, fear spiking through me as his raging blue eyes lock angrily onto me. I know the spot where his metal hand grasps will bruise.

"Where is he going?" He growls.

Surprise curls through me, I've never heard him talk before. The sound is dark and gravelly and sends shivers down my spine that I don't understand. Or maybe that I don't want to understand.

"I don't know" I answer truthfully, my voice rasping from the lack of breath because of his grip on my throat. He pulls me away and slams me into the wall again, making me cry out in pain this time. Outside, I hear the clicking of more guns, and I know that if a miracle doesn't happen, I'm going to die. 

Better me than Cody, though.

When I look back into the eyes of the metal-armed man before me, I remember the conflicted gaze from before, the way he froze. He's human, somewhere beneath the assassin's mask. I just know it. Deep in his eyes, in a way I can't explain, I see pain and brokenness and a humanity long shoved away. I know it's my best chance.

"Please, I don't know who you are but you obviously know me. I didn't do anything wrong, I know you know that," I plead, my voice barely above a whisper as his vice-like grip on my throat only tightens, "Please help me, please" 

Again, there's that same hesitation that gives me hope. His metal grip loosens ever so slightly.

"Why'd you do it?" He grits out, surprising me.

"I'm sorry?" I ask, confused as to what he's asking. 

Outside, one guard pipes up.

"Asset, is it secure?"

My eyes widen and I feel my fear spike yet again. Asset? Does this man not have a name?

"Why'd you try and sacrifice yourself for the boy?" He grits out, his hand on my throat now barely squeezing.

"He's my brother," I say simply, my wide eyes locked onto his, "I'd do anything to protect him."

"We're coming in" another voice calls out. I look towards the door and back to my assassin.

"Please help me." I whisper one last time, my voice broken and charged with emotion. 

I don't know why he does it or why I'm so incredibly surprised when he does, but he suddenly pulls away from me and shoves me behind him. I stumble, not knowing what he's about to do.

"Hold on and stay behind me" He commands, making hope spark in my chest. I do as I'm told and cower behind the large, muscular man. 

Then the door slams open and the bullets begin to fly.

I hear the ricocheting of bullets against metal and hear my assassin fire only twelve shots. Each must find their target because silence rests over the room. I step out from behind him to see twelve guards dead on the floor. My stomach lurches, nausea overtaking me as my wide, fearful eyes take in the carnage. 

"Don't make me regret this," he lowly warns, grabbing my arm and tugging me out of the room, "We have to move."

He drags me out into the black of night, the only light coming from a lamppost or two and the sliver of a moon above us. I'm in shock as the man who's been hunting me for the past few days drags me along to a random car, saving my life. My eyes inadvertently go to where my car used to sit and I can't help but smile at the empty spot. I turn back around and see the man with the metal arm breaking into a car and hot-wiring it. My eyes widen.

"What are you doing?" I ask, surprise curling through my voice. He looks up at me sharply and I close my mouth, knowing it's better to not fight with him. After all, he can kill me at any moment. When the car revs to life, I hop in the passenger seat as he gets into the driver's seat and drives away while I'm still putting my seatbelt on. 

For the first few moments, there's nothing but the humming of the engine and my own breathing. With his mask still on, I can't even hear his own breath. Finally, as I steal a glance at the side of his face, I make my terrified tongue move. 

"Where are we going?" I ask, my voice shaking. I can't help it, though. This man did try and murder my brother and I repeatedly. 

He doesn't even look over at me. The metal of his arm gleams dangerously and keeps me on high alert. All he has to do is pull a gun out and point it in my direction. Although this was most definitely not the smartest choice, it was my only choice.

"Somewhere safe" he responds simply, his voice gravelly and low. I bite my lip in nervousness and look forward. Another heavy silence settles over the car and after what must be fifteen minutes of quiet driving, I can't help but ask the burning question in my mind.

"Why are you helping me?" I ask softly, looking over at the man.

This time, he does look over at me, however briefly. His eyes meet mine and I can see a sort of war in them, as if there's two versions of himself he's fighting between. The black mask is still set on the lower half of his face so I can't truly gauge his emotions. He looks back forward, his grip tightening on the wheel.

"I don't know." 

I have yet to receive one straight forward answer from the man beside me, so I ask him the one question I feel like he could answer.

"I'm Caroline by the way, but I'm pretty sure you know that," I begin, trying to hide the panic in my voice, "What's your name?"

This time, I see more emotion flicker across his eyes that stay locked onto the road. This time, when he answers, I know it's as straight forward of an answer as he can possibly give me.

"I don't know," he almost whispers, his voice sending those same shivers down my spine. 

Sympathy curls in my chest for the man and I can't help but wonder what he's been through. For the first time in two days, for the first time since I ran from the man with the metal arm, I feel this insane curiosity to figure him out. What scares me more is that with him on my side, even though he could easily kill me in a multitude of ways, 

I've never felt safer.

|||

We drive for around six hours before the assassin finally pulls up outside an abandoned warehouse. I should've slept, but I was too terrified to let my eyes slip closed, afraid that I'd wake in containment or not wake at all.

"We should be safe here, but not for long. Just long enough to figure things out," he informs, the most he's spoken yet. 

I nod and get out of the car as he does, my entire body still on alert. I walk side by side with the man and bask in the intense heat coming off of his body. In the brisk temperatures outside, I can't help but feel grateful for it. When we step inside, the warehouse is dark and dingy with an odd smell and consistent dripping noise. Still, I'm not the slightest bit picky.

It's safe, and that's enough for me.

We walk into a separate room in the center where a few old, rat-eaten blankets sit and a makeshift fireplace rests in the corner. I go inside, not entirely sure what to do. The man walks in after me and, much to my surprise, pulls off his mask. I guess I should've put together that he'd have to take it off eventually, but it still sends shock curling through me to see him set the black mask down. He bends down to the fireplace, his back to me.

"Grab some of the wood in the corner, we need some heat if we're not going to freeze" the man orders. I don't argue, still wholly terrified of him and the things I have witnessed first hand that he can do. I walk over and grab the wood and bring it to where the man crouches. I set it down and stand somewhere beside his crouched form, not right next to him but close enough so I'll be near the fire when he gets it going. 

As I watch him build the fire, my mind goes back to what the guards called him. Asset, as if he didn't even deserve a name. As if he were an object. If this is all because of my dad, which I'm certain it is, then I can't imagine how he came to tangle himself with people like my hunters. The fire sparks to life after a few minutes and the man stands, satisfied at the flames. When he turns to me, I get my first look at the man's entire face. Shock courses through me as I take in the sharp, stubbled jaw and his angular face framed by his long dark hair.

He's hands down the most stunning man I've ever laid my eyes on.

I don't have much time to dwell on his sheer gorgeousness, though, because I see something deeply familiar. I furrow my brows, looking deeper into his face. He looks at me in confusion, not knowing what I'm doing. I know who this is, I've seen his face before. Then, like a load of bricks, it slams into me. Sergeant Barnes.

Bucky Barnes.

I saw his monument in the museum on a field trip way back in high school. The Bucky Barnes, Captain America's best friend. He's supposed to be dead. Stranger things have happened in the past few years, though. My hazel eyes widen and my lips part slightly in shock.

"You're Bucky Barnes" I breathe out.

As soon as the words leave my mouth, I watch his eyes widen slightly and something spark deep inside of them. It's almost as if he knows that name but it's just outside of his reach. This makes my intrigue spike. What's happened to Bucky in the past decades to make him into a cold killing machine who doesn't even know his own identity.

"What did you just call me?" He asks, his voice angry but also hinted with confusion. With the way his haunted, darkening eyes sear into me, I lose some of my confidence.

"Y-you're James Buchanan Barnes. Captain America was your best friend back in the-" my words are cut off when his metal hand grabs my shoulder and shoves me into the wall behind me. 

My panic spikes painfully as he clenches his jaw and glares deep into my eyes. I can feel anger radiating off of him, but I can tell it's not directed at me. In his eyes I can see that the name sparked recognition and I think it bothers him that he can't figure it out. Still, I can't keep the fear from my face.

"I don't know who the hell that is" he growls. I nod hurriedly, trying desperately to not die after making it so far. 

His broken blue eyes burn into mine, clearly seeing my terror, and I watch a part of them soften. Immediately he rips his hand away from me and steps back, running a hand through his hair. A tortured look melts onto his face and he lets out a deep breath, not even able to look over at me. Carefully, I step away from the wall, my intrigued eyes on Bucky. 

Whatever happened to him messed up his mind. I can't help but feel like someone did this intentionally, that someone is manipulating his mind. The Bucky Barnes the museum described was flirtatious and light-hearted and heroic. The man before me is quiet, murderous, and broken. I can't help the sympathy that floods into me again. My head tells me to get away from him, but the way he practically stumbled away from me when he realized he was scaring me convinces me, against my better judgement, to go with my gut.

To stay.

After all, he might be the person who can kill me easiest, but he's also the person that can protect me best from people who want me dead for reasons I don't understand.

"I'm sorry," I softly say, making him snap his wide-eyed gaze up to me. 

"Why are you sorry?" He asks, making me squirm under his intense gaze. I shrug, playing with the ends of my hair.

"Someone should say it to you," I respond, making something in his eyes change. 

Not able to hold his intense gaze anymore, I look down to the fire. All at once, I feel the exhaustion from the past few days rush over me. My adrenaline is gone and I feel like my body is made of lead. 

"We should check the perimeter" Bucky announces and I nod, looking up to find him checking a handgun and settling it in a holster, "You can take the south and I'll take the north"

I force my legs to move, but find the world swimming around me. The sleep deprivation is tearing me apart, but I can't let it show. 

"Okay" I manage out, able to take a few steps before my tired legs give out and my exhaustion takes over. 

Before I can hit the floor, I feel a pair of strong arms catch me, one flesh and one metal. Bucky helps straighten me up and I force my half-closed eyes to open. It takes all of my energy to do so as my mind tries to force me into a state of sleep. I can see a vague look of concern on Bucky's face as his eyes systematically search my body for blood or a wound. When he sees none, Bucky looks back up at me with furrowed brows.

"When was the last time you slept?" he asks, and I find my tongue lead-filled when I try to speak. I look over to see sunlight streaming into the warehouse and turn back to look at Bucky, who is holding all of my weight.

"I think that makes three days," I respond, my words slurred and groggy. I watch Bucky's eyes widen as mine try to slip closed again. 

I hear him sigh and release my waist to pick me up, one hand under my knees and the other on my back. I just let him carry me, already half-asleep when he sets me down in front of the fire and puts one of the blankets over my body. 

"Why haven't you slept?" he grinds out, crouching down beside me. In my tired stupor, I find my words coming out with much less of a filter.

"You were hunting my brother and me, remember?" I announce, yawning at the end and letting my eyes slip closed, "He slept, I watched"

Those are the last words I manage out before sleep tugs me under. Beside me, Bucky stands with a sigh, his burning gaze lingering over my peacefully sleeping form before stepping out to do the perimeter. What I don't know is the way inside, guilt crawls up his throat. He doesn't know what really made him choose to help me, he just saw the innocence in my eyes and couldn't bring himself to kill me.

That was the first time he'd defied a HYDRA order.

|||

"Why were you hunting us?"

It's been a few hours since I woke up and the sun has long set, bringing back the brisk temperatures. Bucky and I sit near the fire, but still worlds apart with him on one side of it and me on the other. At my question, I watch a muscle in his jaw tick. He looks up from the knife he'd been twirling to look at the fire.

"Your father was my original mission. When I brought him in, he asked my employer to make a trade," Bucky announces, looking over at me with the slightest hint of sympathy in his cold eyes, "Spare his life, take you and your brother's."

It should surprise me, but after the second day of running and unanswered calls I figured as much. Instead, I simply clench my jaw and look over at the fire to hide the way my heart splinters in my eyes. He may have been an awful father but he was still that—our father. At the very least I thought that would mean something to him.

I was wrong. 

We sit in silence for a while, only the crackling of the fireplace filling the room. With every minute that Bucky is away from whoever his employer is, he seems more and more aware of himself. Still just as terrifying and just as brooding, but aware.

"Wanna talk about it?" he suddenly asks.

Now this surprises me. I look over at Bucky with slightly widened eyes to find him staring at the fire. He looks back at me, and for the first time there's not a trace of anger there. For a reason I can't explain, my stomach jumps at the look and I have to keep myself from falling into his rich blue eyes. I sigh and look down at the floor.

"Randall Bane was probably the worst dad you could ask for." I focus intently on my lap, biting my lip at the sudden rise of emotion within me, "Him setting a kill order on my brother and I? It should surprise me more than it did."

I don't tell him of the way I was beaten while shielding Cody or the way if I was in the wrong place at the wrong time, a cigarette was put out on my skin because it was more convenient. I let out another sigh, willing the burning emotion in my throat to go away and looking back up at Bucky. To my surprise, he's still looking at me. I give him a small smile.

"How about you? Wanna talk about it?" I ask, hoping deep within that he'll open up to me. 

I don't know why I want him to so badly.

This time he sighs and looks over at the fire, a far away look in his eyes. 

"The longer I'm away from them the clearer my head gets, but it's like there's this fog around it that I can't shake," Bucky informs, shaking his head and clenching his jaw tightly, "I don't know who I am, but I know the things I've done. That's what haunts me."

A shudder runs through me at the thought of all of the horrible things someone has made him do. While watching the pain run rampant through his features, a part of my heart breaks for him.

"Well, I don't know everything you've done but what I do know is that you saved my life and chose not to kill me even when I'll bet someone forced you to. If you're asking me, that counts for something." I interject. He looks over at me, his broken, fragmented gaze making a part of my heart crack again. 

"Can you tell me about...well, what you know about me?" He asks reluctantly, that conflicted gaze back. Somewhere inside it I see a bit of hope, though. I smile softly and nod.

"Your name is James Buchanan Barnes, but everyone just called you Bucky," I begin, telling the man before me the story of his life, "You fought in World War II and did a lot of good. And from what I hear, you were quite the ladies man."

At this, the corner of Bucky's lips pulls up into a smile that lasts briefly, but however brief it was it was there. The sight makes me smile, and immediately I have a desperate need to see that smile again.

"You were best friends with-"

"Steve" he interrupts, a far away look in his eyes. Shock pulses through me. 

"I guess you know a little more than you thought." I whisper, the ghost of a smile on my lips. That half smile is back again and with it the butterflies. 

"You can call me Bucky," he suddenly states, looking over at me with those intoxicating blue eyes, "I promise to not throw you into the wall this time."

I can't stop the surprised laugh that breaks out of my mouth and nod, looking over at the soldier who just made an actual joke. 

"Only if you call me Caroline," I bargain, one eyebrow lifted. He nods.

"Deal."

"You should get some sleep, I'll keep watch," I inform out of habit, knowing that he'll need his rest if a fight comes. His eyebrows furrow and he looks over at me incredulously.

"Caroline," He begins, and I can't help the way my heart jumps at the sound of my name coming from his lips, "You don't need to protect me."

I stare right back, a determination set in my eyes.

"Everyone needs protecting sometimes." I respond, my words soft but unyielding. Something unreadable passes through Bucky's gaze, something that makes my heart lurch. Finally, he sighs and lays down, knowing I won't give in.

"You better wake me up in three hours. Otherwise, I just might shoot you." 

A smile quirks onto my lips as I stare into the fire.

"Somehow, I doubt that."

|||

My sleep is deep and dreamless, the kind of sleep your body slips into when it's overly exhausted.

As per Bucky's request, I did in fact wake him up three hours later. Now, as I sleep, I relish in the piece of my unconscious mind.

Until I'm startled awake from it.

"Caroline!"

I gasp awake at the shout of my name, shooting straight up to see Bucky crouched down beside me. 

"What's happening?" I ask, panic tight in my voice. He offers me a hand that I take gladly, letting him help me up. 

"They've found us, they're outside right now" Bucky grits out, checking the gun in his holster before walking over to a wooden box in the corner that I hadn't spared much thought on before. He shoves it open and pulls out a large, heavy-looking gun and loads something into the front before walking over to me.

"What is that?" I ask, a slight tremble to my tone. He looks over and sees the blatant fear in my eyes. He must remember my reaction to the bloodshed from before, how unsettled it made me, because a part of his tough face softens.

I've never watched anyone die before. I've never even seen a dead body outside of a funeral before. The movies and the shows and the true crime podcasts, none of them come close to the guttural feeling of seeing the life drain from someone's eyes. All of this, it's too much at once. 

"We have to get out of here, this is our best shot. My employer doesn't like it when I disobey."

Bucky voice is a rumble in the chaos of the warehouse, and I find myself clinging to the odd sense of security it brings me He walks out of the room and into the open area of the warehouse, the gun slung over his shoulder. I scramble to follow him, but stop short when I see what must be fifty men with guns raised, prepared to come in.

"Bucky" I breathe, my eyes going wide and fear dripping through me. Two to fifty, even for the assassin beside me that's a little much. Bucky looks over at me, but my eyes are trained outside. He spares the armed men a glance before jogging up to me.

"Winter Soldier, come out now and we will not kill you." a voice booms, probably over a speaker.

Bucky uses the hand that's not holding the terrifying gun to turn me to face him. I do, my wide eyes locking onto his oddly soothing ones. 

"If we're gonna make it out of this alive, you've got to trust me," he urges, his eyes not leaving mine even when the voice on the speaker gives him his final warning, "You've protected everyone else, let me protect you. I'm not gonna let anything happen to you, doll."

My heart leaps at the nickname he uses, and I don't know why but it makes it hard to think straight when he says it. His promise to protect me does exactly what it was meant to do. The sincerity in his eyes makes me believe he's telling me the truth. 

I trust him. 

I try not to let it show how much that promise really means to me. My entire life I've been the one to protect. Protect Cody from my dad, protect Cody from the grief of losing mom, protect my dad from losing his job and going to jail. For once, someone wants to protect me. It sparks something in me that I've never felt before.

"I trust you" I whisper, nodding to him. His eyes search mine for a moment more before he nods. 

"You're not gonna want to look at this," Bucky breathes before using his flesh arm to lift the gun and using the metal one to tug me suddenly into him. He holds me tight to his torso as if to shield me from whatever is about to happen, both physically and visually. 

Then I hear the world explode.

I don't need Bucky's iron grip on me to keep me close to him, because once I feel the heat of an explosion and the sounds of men screaming, I bury my face as much as I can into the shoulder of the black vest he's wearing. I feel him swivel us around and hear another shot before another explosion erupts. This one rattles my teeth and makes me hold onto Bucky a little tighter instinctively. 

Then just as fast as it began, it's over.

I hear a gun clatter to the ground near me and silence settles over the smoking warehouse. The heat of flames still burns in the distance and even though I know that it's over, I can't bear to look. My entire body is shaking and I hate for feeling so out of control of my fear, but it's not easy being thrust from a mundane life into one flooded with blood and explosions and guns, as much as the movies would like to persuade us it is. 

"It's over, Care. You can look" Bucky says softly. 

Slowly, I pull away as he lets the grip of his metal arm ease. Around me, flames lick up the ceiling and front wall of the warehouse where the only remainder of the armed men is the cars and the blackened body parts that I'd rather not look at. I bite my lip and run a hand through my hair, nodding to try and come to terms with the carnage before me.

"Alright, what's your plan from here?" I ask, my voice still trembling but firmer than I expected. Bucky looks over at me in surprise. I furrow my brows at him.

"What is it?" I ask, to which he shakes his head quickly and looks down before looking back up at me.

"Nothing, it's just you're one of the strongest people I've ever met." He announces. This time, I'm the surprised one. Bucky sees the shock in my gaze so he gestures to the mess around him.

"I've seen grown, trained men experience this and cry. You're made of tougher stuff, Caroline," he tells me, nodding to me as if to show he respects me. I go to refute his words, but stop. I guess if I didn't realize how strong I really had to have been the past few days.

The past few years. 

I go to respond when my eyes widen on something behind Bucky. A person, laying on the ground but raising their gun towards him. Panic shoots through me and I act without thinking.

"Bucky, look out!" I shout, scrambling in front of him just as the armed man shoots. 

The sound of the gunshot makes the confusion in Bucky's eyes clear away and he doesn't waste a second ripping his handgun out and firing a single shot, managing to nail the man right between the eyes and making him slump to the ground. I'm not paying much attention to it, though. 

The second the armed man shot, an intense fire exploded in my torso. Now, as he's dead and Bucky's turning back to me, I can't see the expression on his face because my eyes are too focused on the blood seeping between my hands that I press firmly to my stomach. Slowly, I peel them away to see blood gushing out of my stomach, the pain almost unbearable. I look up at Bucky, my eyes wide. 

His are wider.

There's an unbelieving look in his eyes as Bucky realized what has just happened, what I just did. 

"Bucky," I manage out, before my world swoops and my knees buckle. 

"Caroline!"

He rushes forward and catches me, not wasting a second to scoop me into his arms as if I weigh nothing. One of my hands that's pressed against my stomach falls, hanging down as he swiftly carries me back to the room we were in before. Bucky clears off a table in the room and sets me down on it. My head rolls to one side, the blood loss already making me tired and weak.

"What the hell where you thinking? Why would you do that?" Bucky asks, his voice tight with panic as he rummages around and grabs what he needs to help me.

"He was going to shoot you" I respond, my words slurred. I hear a number of things clamber onto the table and feel the bottom half of my shirt peeling off of my skin and being cut off to expose my bloodied torso. 

"You should've let him" Bucky reprimands, pressing a cloth to my torso that must be covered in alcohol because my skin begins to burn painfully. I cry out in pain, clenching my fists and squeezing my eyes shut.

"It's okay, just breathe. You're gonna be fine," Bucky soothes, keeping the cloth pressed for a few more moments and using his other hand to brush away my hair from my face. Oddly enough, the motion does calm me down.

"I don't have any painkillers left, so this is gonna hurt doll," He warns, moving his hand and the cloth away. I bite my lip and nod as much as I can.

"Okay, okay," I breathe, trying to prepare myself for what's about to come, "I trust you"

His hands freeze at my words and I'm guessing he's still not used to hearing them. But I mean them, I mean them more than I ever have in my life. 

Then I feel a pair of metal pliers go into my stomach.

I don't stay awake much longer after that, the excruciating pain much more than my mind can bear. I'm glad for the unconsciousness when it comes and I already feel my throat is raw from screaming.

|||

When I wake up, I'm in a car again. 

Night has fallen yet again, telling me an entire day has passed with me unconscious. I stir, sitting up slightly only for an intense ache in my stomach to make a groan rise from my lips. Bucky looks over at me, tearing his eyes away from the empty highway to me. When he does, I smile softly at him.

"Hi" I greet, watching as a small smile pulls onto his lips and he turns forward again.

"Hey," he responds, his metal hand on the wheel and his human one resting, "How are you feeling?"

I place a hand to my stomach and try again to sit up, this time successfully. I nod, running a hand through my wild hair.

"Pretty good, all things considered" I inform, my eyes taking in the scenery as we pull off the highway and move towards what I assume to be a rest stop.

Good, because I'm hungrier than I think I've ever been. 

"Alright, I'll get us some food. Stay in here and lock the doors" Bucky instructs as he pulls into the parking lot of the first gas station we see. I nod, not needing to be told twice to follow his orders. 

I lock the doors once he steps out, a red hoodie on and a baseball hat pulled low on his head. I feel my heart jump at the sight, seeing him as a normal guy bringing an oddly attractive edge to Barnes. I shake my head and look down at my lap, trying to ignore the inexplicable attraction and pull that I feel towards him. 

My mind flows over to Cody, and I can't help but be the slightest bit nervous. I hope beyond everything that my diversion was enough to let him get somewhere safe. I can only hope that he's still safe. Being this far away from him and not knowing whether or not he's okay makes anxiety sit in the center of my chest. 

My thoughts are interrupted by the rapping of knuckles against my window. I jump, but only slightly. It's probably Bucky back quicker than I expected. When I look up, though, my heart lurches into my throat. My eyes widen only slightly at the foreign man standing outside my door. He looks normal enough, but I've gotten into such a habit of looking over my shoulder that I know better than to trust him.

"Hey, can you help me with something really quick?" he calls to me through the glass. 

Not knowing how to respond, I simply shrug and pretend like I can't hear him. My heart is hammering in my chest as I point to my ear and shrug, watching as the man sighs and looks towards the store.

He's looking to see where Bucky is. 

Panic overtakes me and I immediately cast a quick look around the front of the car while the man is still looking at the store to see if I can't find anything to defend myself with should he smash my window. I look to the ignition to see Bucky took the keys, probably to keep anyone from smashing into his side and driving off without me. Then, just as I'm about to go into a full-blown panic, I catch the gleam of black metal underneath the driver's seat. 

Bucky must've put an extra gun there.

I quickly look away and back at the man outside just in time for him to look back at me. Underneath his feigned politeness, I can see agitation and desperation.

"I could really use your help with my car, miss. It won't start" he calls out again, this time louder since I told him I couldn't hear before. Knowing I have no excuse this time, I improvise to the best of my ability. 

"Okay!" I respond, smiling at him through my adrenaline and 'accidentally' drop my phone at the bottom of the driver's seat. I look down towards it and feign an embarrassed smile.

"One sec" I call back, to which he gives me the fakest smile and nod. 

He's growing impatient, I can sense it. He knows I know. I drop down as fast as I can and wrap my hand around the gun underneath the seat. The feeling is foreign to my hands, but I don't let it bother me. I swing it up, grabbing on with my right hand too just as my window smashes open. I gasp at the sight of the barrel of his own gun aiming for me. Thankfully, my gun is already raised and, with bile in my throat and trembling hands, I pull the trigger before he can shoot me. 

The recoil makes my teeth chatter and the noise booms across the empty parking lot in front of the gas station, making my ears ring. Something warm splatters all over me, and a distinctively crimson liquid sprays the shattered window of the car. In front of me, the man stumbles back, clutching his shoulder and letting his gun clatter to the ground. My eyes go wide, my mouth filling with bile.

I'm going to be sick.

I hold in my nausea as the man stumbles to his car and gets in, driving off as fast as he can. Just as his tires are screeching on the pavement to receive medical attention at a hospital, at least I hope, I see Bucky shove open the doors to the gas station, panic heavy on his features. His eyes catch on the car speeding away and I watch concern flooded with a touch of desperation and anger flood his face. Bucky snaps his gaze to the car and sprints toward it, skidding to a halt and trying to open his door only to find it locked. 

I'm in such a daze that I can't seem to remember to unlock it. My eyes are locked onto the blood that's splattered on my hands, some of the warm liquid on my face. The gun in my hands trembles, but I'm snapped out of my trance when I hear someone run around to my side of the car, the side with the smashed window. On instinct, I gasp and point the gun again only to find Bucky staring at me with wide eyes.

"It's me! It's me, you're safe!" he urges, reaching in through the now open window, making sure to avoid the shards of broken glass and unlocking the doors. Bucky swings open my door and bends in front of me, his eyes flying over my body and looking desperately for an injury.

"Are you hurt?" he asks, looking up at the blood that's on me. His blue eyes are heavy with concern, but my trembling hands and wide eyes can't seem to focus on anything but the gun in my bloody hands.

"It's not mine," I manage out, referring to the blood on my body. The gun shakes as my hands do, tears welling in my eyes that are locked on to it. A pair of hands, one warm and the other cold, grab onto my trembling ones and gently pull the gun away, casting it into the back of the car. 

"Caroline," Bucky mumbles, his voice sending shivers down my spine and his hand sparking warmth on my freezing skin when I feel it cup my cheek and turn it so I look at him. His eyes soften at the look upon my face.

"I shot someone," I whisper, my voice quivering as I do and my vision blurring with tears, "He smashed the window and pulled a gun on me and I shot him"

I know and so does Bucky that I did the right thing, but my stomach is still churning. I know the man will be okay, the wound didn't look too serious, but I still shot someone. His metal hand comes up to the other cheek, both hands now resting on my face soothingly. 

"It's okay, he was driving away, that means he's going to be okay. You did the right thing, Caroline" He assures, rubbing his thumb over the skin of my cheek.

I nod, knowing he's right and trying to force myself to snap out of it. 

"Alright, we have to go before someone comes looking for us again. We can stop at another exit" Bucky informs, taking his hands away and shutting my door only to jog around to his and get in. 

I can't help but feel cold and empty without his touch, whether it be metal or human. As the car starts and we pull out of the gas station and back onto the highway, I feel Bucky looking over at me periodically. My eyes are locked onto the highway, though, and not a single thought is bouncing through my mind. 

Before I know it, we've pulled off at another exit and into another gas station. When Bucky turns the car off and gets out, shutting his door behind him, I feel a bout of panic begin to set in. He's going to leave me again, He's going to leave me alone in-

My door opens and I look up to see Bucky standing outside of it with his hand outstretched to me. 

"This time, I think it's best if you came with me" he states, making my panic dissipate and relief flood in its place. I nod and gingerly put my hand in his, trying to ignore the way sparks immediately soar where our skin touches. Bucky helps me get out of the car, my stomach screaming in pain when I move. Eventually, I'm out and walking with Bucky towards the gas station.

He keeps my hand in his.

The bell above the door chimes when we walk in and Bucky immediately leads me to where the bathrooms are. He casts a quick glance around to make sure we're not being followed this time before leading me inside the men's room. He shuts and locks the door once he's in and checks to make sure no one else is inside, making a bit more of my panic release as we have the entire place alone. 

"Here, let's get you cleaned up" Bucky says softly, grabbing my waist gently and setting me as cautiously as he can on top of the counter so I'm just above eye level with him. 

For the most part, besides a light tremor in my hands, I've stopped shaking and calmed down. I didn't kill him, only hurt him. Still, though, I fear that moment will be burned into my brain for a while. 

Wordlessly, Bucky grabs a paper towel and wets it. Then, he grabs my right hand and gently begins to rub the man's blood off of it. I sit silently, watching him work. He moves on to the other hand, wiping it clean quickly. All the while, I feel my heart hammering in my chest, not because of fear or anxiety or nerves or even trauma.

Because of something else I can't explain.

When he lets go of my hand, his blue eyes turn up to my hazel ones and he leans forward, bringing the paper towel to my cheek. The material is rough against my skin, he moves it so gently that I hardly even notice it. His baseball hat is still on, keeping him from getting too close to me. 

In a way, I'm grateful and disappointed because of it.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, the blood is gone. His fingers, though, linger for a moment longer on my cheek, making butterflies erupt in my stomach.

It's crazy to think how only two or three days ago, Bucky was hell-bent on killing me.

When his hand finally drops, he gives me a small, close-lipped smile.

"There, it's all gone" Bucky states, making me smile softly in return.

"Thanks" I respond, looking down at my now clean hands. Surprisingly, the sight does wonders to ease my mind and heart about what transpired tonight.

"Now, we can get some food and then head ou-" Bucky's words die out. 

I look up, my eyebrows furrowed in confusion. My confusion only intensifies when I see his eyes locked on my arm. Slowly, as if he's scared to touch me, he lifts the sleeve of my shirt and I take in a sharp breath.

There, on full display, are the cigarette marks left by my father.

I look over at Bucky, my eyes wide only to find his jaw clenched. He's hardly moving, hardly breathing, as his hand reaches up to gently trace one of the marks.

"Who did that to you?" Bucky nearly growls. I open my mouth to deflect, but choose not to. It would be harder to ignore it than just simply tell him the truth. I sigh and look away from his gaze and to my hands. I can't bear to look at him when I speak again.

"My dad really was the worst you could get," I offer, keeping my eyes on my hands as emotion rears into my tone, "It started when my mom died. Cody would call me and tell me that dad was getting physical, and I..."

I pause, trying to keep the tears from my eyes as I look back up and over Bucky's shoulder to the wall behind him. 

"I couldn't let him get hurt. I forced him to text me whenever dad would get angry and I'd come over and..." I let my words die out, not even wanting to say it aloud, "Like I said, I'd do anything to protect my brother"

Carefully, I bring my eyes over to Bucky's. My heart skips when I see the unreadable look sitting in them. He takes my hand in his, making my mind ease and my heart race.

"Just when I think you're done amazing me, doll" he breathes, making my stomach flutter. Our eyes stay locked for a moment more before he reaches out and helps me down from the counter, setting me carefully back to the floor.

"Just so you know," Bucky begins again, placing a burning hand at the small of my back and looking over at me as we walk to the door to the bathroom, "I can't promise I won't kill your father if I ever see him again"

I don't know why, but the statement makes a smile tug at my lips. I guess, for the first time, I feel truly protected and cared for. As we walk out of the bathroom together, I nudge him slightly.

"For his sake, let's hope you never meet"

|||

"I've thought of a place we can go"

Bucky's words pull me out of my thoughts of Cody. The empty food wrappers sit in the backseat, long eaten. The sun is beginning to rise, and with it is the hope that I'll survive to see the next sunrise. I look over at him, intrigue filtering my gaze.

"It's risky, especially since I'm still not fully remembering who I am, but it's our best shot" he states. Just by looking at the man beside me, I can tell he's scared to do whatever he has in mind.

"Bucky, whatever it is. I'll be right here" I assure, surprising myself with the words. I didn't realize it before now, but I'd much rather be with him than without him. He looks over at me and smiles before turning back to the road.

As he works up the courage to say his plan, I furrow my brows at the 'Welcome to New York' sign that we pass.

"The only people who can really protect us and even help us find your brother are the Avengers." 

My heart jumps and I can't help the excitement that floods into me. I look over at him, my eyes wide and bright. He smiles at the happy look on my face and continues speaking. That smile...

That smile of his undoes me.

"It gives me a chance to reconnect with Steve and see if I can't figure this out and they have the best resources to find your brother" Bucky informs, making the both of us happy.

"I think that's the best idea yet, I really hope you can figure everything out" I wish, smiling softly at Barnes. He looks over and smiles.

"Me too"

We drive along for a while, getting closer and closer to the location of the Avengers Tower. In the few bits of silence where we're not talking, I can't help but wonder what's going to happen when we get to the Tower and I get my brother back. Eventually, my assassin and I will have to part ways. I don't know why, but the thought of that leaves a hollow hole in my chest.

Maybe I do know why, but I'm too scared to admit it.

Before I know it, we're pulling up to the tower with a large A on the front. When we park, I look over at Bucky.

"You're probably about to freak some people way out" I warn, picking up his hat and setting it low on his head, "You might want to keep your head down until the moment's right"

He nods at me, offering me a small smile before looking over to the massive tower with a deep breath.

"You ready, doll?" 

I nod, biting my lip at the thought of finding Cody.

"Ready"

We step out of the car together and walk into the Avengers Tower, all the while receiving some pretty strange looks from people walking by. I gather up my courage and walk up to the front desk where a woman sits typing away at a computer. Bucky stands beside me, his head down.

"Hi, can I help you today?" the woman asks politely, looking up at me and Bucky. 

This is it.

I draw in a deep breath and nod, returning the woman's polite smile.

"Yes actually, we, uh, we need to see the Avengers" I inform, knowing full well how absolutely absurd that sounds. That's like walking up to the White House without an appointment and telling someone that you need to see the president. 

The lady gives me an odd look, one that she sends over to Bucky and then back to me. My heart is racing and I'm hoping beyond everything that she'll just let us in to see them. 

"I'm sorry, but you need an appointment for that" she informs, looking back down at her computer.

"I don't mean to be rude ma'am, but we really need to see them. It's urgent and I promise you it's not nothing" I continue, making the woman look up at me skeptically. She studies my face before sighing. 

"Alright, but you have to get cleared to go up. We don't allow outside, unauthorized weapons or sharp metals" she informs, waving over two guards with metal-detecting wands to check us.

My heart goes to my throat. This is not going to go very well. Bucky and I share the same nervous look as they approach, and beside us I can hear the lady making a call upstairs to let the Avengers know that they have people visiting.

We won't even make it to the elevators though.

"Hold out your arms, please" the guard who walks up to me asks. I do so, letting him scan his wand over me. Within a few seconds, I'm cleared. I look over to Bucky, who holds his arms out too and gives me a nervous look.

The second the wand goes near his arm, it begins to blare. The second guard's wand begins to beep at his hip, signaling a gun. The two guards jump back, both drawing their guns and pointing them at Bucky. 

"Woah, woah! Calm down!" I shout, jumping in front of Bucky and holding my hands out.

My heart is racing and I can tell Bucky is anything but happy that once again I've put myself between him and a gun. 

"Show us your weapon!" one guard yells, making a tense emotion flood the room. Off to the side, I can see the astonished clerk make another call and speak frantically with who's on the other side. 

"Just calm down, we don't want to hurt anyone" I try again, trying to keep the panic from my voice. 

Then, to my surprise, one of them shoots.

I gasp at the sound and immediately prepare to be shot again only for Bucky to step in front of me and use his arm to deflect the bullet. The sound of metal hitting metal resounds in the room and the silence following the gunshot leaves everyone in silence. I look up at Bucky in shock, his metal arm in front of me. He looks over his shoulder at me, his slightly concerned eyes searching mine to make sure I'm okay. I nod slowly, knowing full well that I should be shot right now. Once he sees that I'm unharmed, the glare in his gaze tells me I'm going to get a lecture later on not putting myself between him and bullets.

"Put your hands up or I swear I'll shoot again!" the guard shouts, making me jump. 

I grab onto Bucky's arm that's in front of my body out of instinct, and he keeps it assuredly in front of me, ready to deflect any more shots.

"Just listen-" Bucky begins, but the guard shouts again.

"I mean it, now!"

"Alright, would everyone just take a chill pill for a second?" the voice of Tony Stark announces, making hope flood through me. 

I look over to see Tony emerging from the elevator, his hands held out in front of him as to calm the situation. Behind him, I see Natasha Romonaff and Steve Rogers follow. When I see Steve, I can sense the shock that rolls off of Bucky. I look up to him to see his jaw clenched and his eyes on his best friend. His hat is lowered to hide his face.

"What's going on here?" Nat asks, looking over at us with curiosity in her eyes. 

"We just want to talk to you all, please" I inform, my eyes going between the three Avengers. 

They all look at each other before looking back at me. Steve steps up, his shield in hand.

"Who are you?" he asks, and I know now's the time. Bucky must too because he slowly lift his gaze so his face is on full display.

"You're Steve, right?" Bucky asks, his voice clouded with confusion. 

The shield drops from Steve's hands. I watch pure disbelief pull onto his features as he takes in his best friend that supposedly died all those years ago. 

"Bucky?" he breathes, almost afraid that this won't all be real.

"Hey man" Bucky responds, his hand lowering from in front of me as we both understand that our danger is over. Tony looks over at him incredulously.

"As in Bucky Barnes? Isn't he...you know, dead?" Tony asks, to which Nat elbows him sharply.

"Supposed to be, but that's not how things worked out" Bucky responds. That's when Steve steps forward, almost unsure of his movements.

"His mind is a little lost, he needs help figuring it out" I inform, making sure Steve is aware that Bucky's memory isn't fully there. Steve stops in his step and nods, not being able to stop the smile that grows on his face.

I watch Tony send a look towards Steve before stepping up to us.

"Of course we'll help, we've got some of the smartest people in the universe in here" he informs, making me laugh. Tony sends a look between Bucky and I.

"And you can bring...I'm sorry, what's your name?" Tony asks me. I smile.

"Caroline"

He nods and turns back to Bucky.

"You can bring Caroline along," He states, making more relief pump through me, "I don't think everything would go very well if you didn't"

And then, just like that, we're on our way up the tower.

|||

"So, he was hunting you because your father traded his life for you and your brother's?" 

I nod at Natasha, who sits with Steve and I just outside the lab where Bruce Banner and Tony are checking out Bucky. Sympathy is drawn across Nat and Steve's faces.

"He cornered us in a motel and I stalled enough to let my brother get away. I don't know how, but I managed to get through whatever mind manipulation they used on him to get him to help me." I continue, sighing and running a hand through my hair, "We've been on the run since then"

"Thank you," Steve suddenly says, making me lift my gaze to his, "For bringing Bucky back, he's the closest thing to a brother I have"

I smile softly and nod.

"Of course"

Nat and Steve share a look before Steve speaks again.

"And it's because I know what it feels like to lose a brother that I want to ask if you want us to help find your brother? I know it's scary, not knowing where he is or if he's safe" Steve says, making my entire face light up. 

"That would be so amazing, you have no idea" I rush out, bringing a smile to Nat and Steve's faces.

"Cody Bane, right? I'll get right on it" Nat says before standing and walking away. 

"I've been more a mother than a sister to him through all of this" I inform, looking down at my hands and back up at Steve who watches me intently, "He's a tough kid. He doesn't give up easy"

"Neither do you, I'll bet" Steve responds, looking at me knowingly. 

I look over at the lab, managing to see in through the glass and watch Bucky get blood drawn and tests done. As I do, my heart tugs. Once I get my brother back, I'll have to leave him. In the past few days we've been together, I've found a connection with Bucky that I've never had with anyone before. 

Now I have to leave him.

"Have you told him yet?"

At Steve's sudden and vague question, I look over at him with my brows furrowed. He smiles knowingly at me and casts a look towards his best friend.

"How you feel, have you told him how you feel?" Steve clarifies, making my heart jump into my throat and my eyes widen. I immediately begin to shake my head.

"Oh, no I don't-" I begin to ramble, but Steve cuts me off with a light laugh.

"Don't worry about it, Caroline. Out of every girl Bucky has ever been around, he's never looked at any of them the way he looks at you." Steve informs, making my lips part slightly in shock at the very thought that Bucky could feel the same pull that I do. I don't have time to respond when Nat jogs back in with a tablet in her hand.

"Got him, Cody Bane is alive and well, hiding out at a police station in NYC" Nat informs, setting the tablet down to show the camera feed, "Smart kid"

Relief like I've never felt it floods over me. I look at the screen to see my brother sitting and messing around with an officer's things in the middle of a police station. I laugh, tears of pure joy making it past my defenses and slipping down my cheeks.

"I contacted the department, they're gonna transfer him over in an armored vehicle and police escort. He'll be here within the hour" Nat informs. I nod, standing and throwing my arms around the woman's neck. She gasps in surprise.

"Thank you" I whisper.

She smiles and hugs me back. When we pull away, she nods to me.

"Anytime"

"What's the celebration?"

At the sound of Bucky's voice, I whirl around. He looks calmer than before and intrigue lights up his features when he sees the happiness on my face.

"Cody's alive. He'll be here soon" I inform, not being able to stop the smile on my face. I watch a smile pull on his lips as well.

"Yeah? That's great, Care!" he exclaims. Quickly after, though, I think it hits us both that within the hour, when my brother gets here, we're going to be splitting up. The other people in the room must notice it too.

"Let's give them a moment to talk" Bruce suggests, leading everyone out of the room. Once they're gone, I look back to Bucky with a sad, conflicted smile.

"I guess this is it" I announce, trying to keep the crushing sadness away from my heart, but it's impossible. Bucky lets out a sigh, his blue eyes locked onto my hazel ones.

"I'm gonna miss you, doll" he states, walking up and pulling me into a hug, "Thank you...for everything"

I let out a shaky breath as he does, wrapping my arms around his neck and letting his warmth relax me. This time, when a single tear escapes, it isn't for Cody. We pull away eventually and our eyes lock, my heart skipping when they do. 

"I hope you figure out everything" I say, to which he nods but has the most serious look on his face I've seen in days. Our faces are inches apart and I can hardly breathe. The pull that I have to him is so intense that I want nothing more than to close the gap between us.

I don't, though.

Being this near to him is too painful, so I step back and run a hand through my hair. I don't even say anything else, too scared that if I do my feelings will be blatantly clear in my tone. Instead, I just turn around and begin to walk away. I make it a few steps too until a metal arm closes around my arm and pulls me back. I stumble as I turn around, confusion in my face. 

"What are you-"

My words are cut off when Bucky keeps his metal hand on my waist and brings his other one to my cheek and crashes his lips to mine. Instantly, I melt into him. My skin feels as though it's been set on fire and yet I can't seem to burn hot enough. His grip on me tightens as his lips work against mine with a desperation that steals my breath. This kiss alone is enough to make me realize that I'm falling fast and hard and it's going to hurt like hell to leave him.

When we finally pull apart, Bucky rests his forehead against mine, his hair tickling my face as he does.

"I know I'm not the man I was before, but-"

I cut him off this time, pulling away so he can see the sincerity in my gaze.

"I'm falling for the man you are now, not the man you were then." I whisper, my heart slamming in my chest as the words leave my mouth. His eyes widen slightly at my confession

"Caroline, you deserve so much better than me" he rasps. For just a moment, I think he's going to say goodbye, and my heart begins to tremble.

Bucky must see the crestfallen look in my eyes because he brings his metal hand up to cup the other side of my cheek so he holds my face. He stares down at me with such intensity that I feel my legs turn to jelly, and I have to tighten my hold on him to stay upright.

"Don't think for a single second that I don't want you," he whispers, making my heart jump, "Now, I'm not as good at the love thing as I was back then but-

"Love?" I interrupt, my eyebrows raising suddenly at his choice of words.

Bucky fumbles with his words for a solid minute before he finally gives up and decides to just press his lips gently to mine, taking my breath away yet again. When he pulls back, he rubs one of his thumbs across my cheek and says his next words with such conviction that my stomach explodes into a thousand butterflies.

"Stay," Bucky suddenly says, his eyes searching mine, "Stay here, we can protect you, I can protect you."

That's all I wanted him to say, that's all I wanted to hear. For someone, for him, to ask me to stay. I smile softly up at him and nod.

"You couldn't get rid of me if you tried"

Bucky smiles and places another quick kiss to my lips.

"Looks like I've still got it"

I laugh, leaning my head against his shoulder and letting the safety and warmth wrap around me.

It's crazy to think that only a few days ago, I was his target, his prey.

And here I am, falling in love with my hunter at a heartbreaking speed

#bucky barnes #bucky x original character #bucky x oc #marvel #mcu #avengers #angst #fluff #oneshot #bucky oneshot #bucky barnes oneshot #the winter solider

[the-badger-mole]

AU Bot Plots

Okay, so Katara is the teacher here, but I can't decide if the troubled middle schooler is Kiyi or Izumi. I love the idea of both for different reasons, so I'll give an overview of both situations. Sorry, no story snippets this time, but the overviews are long enough that I decided to make this a two-parter. I'll post the second part next week.

Kiyi

After the unexpected death of his estranged mother, Zuko finds himself the guardian of his 12 year old sister, who he didn't know existed until the social worker contacted him. The transition has been difficult for both siblings. Kiyi lost her mother, and then because her surprise older brother lived across the country, she lost her home and her friends too.

Zuko has a complicated relationship with his family. He hadn't heard from his mother in over a decade since she left his abusive father in the middle of the night, leaving her two children behind. After an attack that left Zuko permanently scarred, his father is imprisoned, Zuko goes to live with his uncle. His sister, Azula, blames him for them losing their father, the only other parent they had left. She ends up going to stay with two aging aunts who had a clear preference for her over Zuko. After graduating from college, the two siblings are very, very low contact. Zuko's uncle is, as far as he knows, the only family he has left. Then he is contacted by the social worker and finds out simultaneously that his mother is dead, and he has another sister, who has no other family to turn to. (I haven't decided if Kiyi is Ozai's or if Ursa was having an affair, but either way, she was already pregnant when she left). Zuko is reeling from all the information at once, and now he has to deal with his own emotional turmoil, and the emotional turmoil of a 12 year old girl who he's now responsible for, all while scrambling to find a two bedroom apartment.

Kiyi is enrolled in school almost immediately, but she has a hard time adjusting. She doesn't make friends, and hardly even speaks. When she does, she says things that get her in trouble. One teacher, though, sees that Kiyi is acting out from grief, and instead of punishing her, Katara Imiq tries to get Kiyi to open up. Eventually, she has to set up a meeting with her brother to get help come up with a plan to help Kiyi, and Katara sees that Zuko's struggling, too. Some plot happens, and Zuko ends up signing Kiyi up for martial arts classes with Suki, and he gets pulled into Katara's circle of friends. Through their newfound support system, Zuko and Kiyi start to heal and learn how to live with each other. Azula may or may not pop up once or twice, at least hinting at a potential reconciliation between the three siblings.

At some point in the story, Kiyi will start hinting to Zuko that he needs a date, and her teacher is single.

#atla #zutara #au bot prompts #botplots #sudden guardian!zuko #THE YEAR OF CONTENT!!!!

[sapphire-weapon]

i know this is off topic from the rest of your asks but something that bothers me about interpretation of sherry and leon (and sherry and claire) is how rigidly nuclear the dynamic between them is and how that probably hurts them. i can't belive I have to say this, but not every pair between a child and adult has to be daddy-daughter. characters don't have to be within two years of age difference to be considered siblings. as someone who has a somewhat large sibling gap (sibling turned 18 when I was 11) I don't like how empty the interpretation of leon's responsibility towards sherry is. legally, he could adopt her to protect her, but emotionally he wasn't ready to be a full father, especially to a child who, in some interpretations, has never had a normal family. there could have been something said about how much leon wants to take care of her, despite only knowing how to guide her somewhat as a peer, and how sherry was willing to take any adult in the place of her parents. it would have also opened the door for sherry to have her own struggle with trying to protect leon as she gets older (younger sibling guilt).

but no. Stoic Father Man must rear Delicate Girl Child.

sorry for the rant

i... don't think anyone was asking for/expecting leon to be a full father responsible for raising sherry and helping her with her homework and shit. and if they are, they're stupid.

leon legally adopting sherry would've just been a protective measure for her, because certain decisions about her life/what happens to her would've had to have gone through him. he was only the one in position to do that -- not claire or anyone else. but that's not what he did. he just surrendered sherry to the government and then trusted (for some reason) that they'd do the Right Thing with her if he kept his end of the bargain, and he didn't even have the good graces to go see her again at any point after that. he literally disappeared from her life. claire, at least, fucking visited her from time to time.

and the reason why this sticks out as a point of contention is because leon was so insistent on taking responsibility for her in the first place -- to the point where he actively pushed claire away. claire wasn't wholly comfortable with just leaving the two of them injured on the side of the road, but it was leon's assurances that he'd be able to take care of things that convinced her to go.

and then he almost immediately bungled it. and he never once tried to make up for it or right the wrong.

it would've been one thing if claire had just been like "lmao ok im gonna go find chris now, peace" and just saddled leon with sherry and fucked off, but that's not what happened. it was his fucking idea in the first place. and he shouldn't have put himself in a position to be sherry's caretaker if he was unwilling to or incapable of taking care of her to begin with.

like, no one reasonably expects leon to be An Actual Father for sherry. but they, at the very least, expected him to be the chris to sherry's claire (since chris was, more likely than not, claire's legal guardian at one point, too) because that was literally what he volunteered to do, but then just... didn't.

[solidandsound]

Etrian Odyssey - Notes on a Journey

THE PARTY

Surge, Alchemist (portrait three)

Surge is a citrus-flavoured soft drink advertised as having a ‘hardcore’ edge.

Surge is only seventeen, but that makes him the oldest member of the group. He left home at eleven years old in response to his mother’s neglect, having already been cooking and caring for himself for years at that point. He ran away as a test, to see if his mother would notice or come looking for him. She never did. His years on the street have left him cynical, but not unkind.

Pepper, Medic (portrait five)

Pepper is named for Dr. Pepper, a soda developed by a pharmacist.

Pepper’s parents were doctors who spent their time travelling to conflict zones to help the injured, leaving him with his feeble grandmother. He idolized his parents and sought to be a doctor of renown like them, and is extremely knowledgeable in the medical arts, especially for a child his age. When he was eleven, his parents left for a war zone and never returned. His grandmother passed shortly afterward, leaving him with nowhere to go and no one to turn to. It has been a year since then.

Root, Dark Hunter (portrait three)

Root is named for root beer, historically made from a root now known to be a carcinogen.

At twelve years old, Root confided in his parents that he thought he might be gay, sure that they would support him no matter what. They didn’t. For the two years since, he has been on the street. His experience left him extremely closed off; he rarely speaks at all, let alone to share anything deeper than surface level about himself. His confidence is in tatters.

Cherry, Protector (portrait four)

Cherry is named in reference to various cherry beverages, such as Cherry Coca-Cola.

Cherry found herself drawn to femininity at a young age, and took great joy in curating her hair, make-up, and fashion. Unfortunately, this made her a target for men who took her prowess in these subjects as a sign of sexuality—one such man being her father. When her mother didn’t believe her, she left home. She is fifteen now, and spends much time protecting other girls from the gendered violence they are sometimes subject to on the streets. Through it all, she has refused to give up her femininity, holding it as a source of strength. If she can still look good in the situation she is in, she knows she’s doing okay.

Mirinda, Survivalist (portrait five)

Mirinda is a soft drink brand originating in Spain; the word roughly translates to ‘admirable’.

Mirinda is a mischievous 13-year-old girl with a penchant for petty crime. Unlike the other members of her guild, she has somewhere to which she can return, but her parents are so exasperated with her behaviour after multiple failed attempts to correct it that they no longer try to keep track of her and do not blink when she is missing for days on end. She has developed a kinship with the other unhoused kids, who engage in similar activities as her, though out of necessity rather than enjoyment. Her safety net gives her a relentlessly cheery demeanour that can sometimes be irritating, but she is a true friend.

BEFORE THE LABYRINTH

Having been on the streets of Etria from such a young age, Surge is loathe to see kids even younger than him out on their own, and ended up serving as a sort of guardian to many of them, especially Pepper, Cherry, and Root. The four of them, with the occasional assistance by and accompaniment of Mirinda, scraped together the means to survive, day by day. It was difficult, and dangerous, and tiring. It wore Surge down, but for the sake of the kids, he has never given up.

There was one other person Surge was close to, an older man named Leed. Having been homeless for over a decade himself, Leed taught Surge and the kids lots of tips and tricks for survival. Surge also knew that Leed engaged in more dangerous activities that he never shared the details of. One rainy day, Surge turned down an alley and found Leed on the verge of death, having been stabbed. Surge never got the details of this incident; when Leed saw Surge, he smiled, and passed. This was not the only time Surge saw someone die on the streets, but if he could help it, it would be the last. He raided Leed’s belongings, finding that he had stolen some cash and basic adventuring gear from someone. Perhaps he chose the wrong rookie adventurers to ambush...

Living in Etria, Surge always knew that tackling the labyrinth was a career option, but it was one he dismissed as too dangerous. He knew many homeless people who entered the labyrinth and never left it. Now, though, he was tired of life on the streets, tired of the daily suffering, of seeing those kids suffer.

He brought the gear to Cherry, Pepper, and Root, not expecting Mirinda to be there as well. When she heard the plan, she insisted on joining. Surge hesitated, not wanting to subject her to that danger if he didn’t have to, but he knew they would have a better chance at success with a fifth party member, so he relented. He was surprised to see small Cherry pick the bulky Protector gear, and shocked to see the reticent Root choose the bold Dark Hunter equipment. For himself, he wanted power, and thus chose the Alchemist’s glove. With everyone on board, Surge made it clear: they go only as long as they need to, and once they’ve made enough money, they’re out. All geared up, the five of them entered Radha Hall.

FIRST STRATUM: Emerald Grove

While the labyrinth is harsh at first, Surge and the kids soon fall into a rhythm of pushing into the labyrinth, killing some monsters, and returning to sell the materials, while also picking up some odd jobs here and there. However, it is far from lucrative at this stage; they are barely scraping together enough on each excursion to fund the next.

They soon come upon two intimidating women who claim to have been ordered by Radha Hall to guard the way forward. If Bubble Guild wants to progress, they must take it up with Radha Hall. When they do so, they are told that a wolf pack has made the proceeding area too dangerous for rookie explorers, and Surge and his friends must wait until someone else takes care of the problem. To Surge, this is infuriating. All he’s accomplished so far is moving from one meagre lifestyle to another. They need to go further. Without consulting the others, he accepts the mission to take down the leader of the wolves.

The guild is allowed past Ren’s blockade and advances lower and lower. They face tougher enemies, but do so with growing confidence. In Fenrir’s nest, they take down a few of his wolf lackies with ease, lure him into a corner, and work together to take him out before reinforcements arrive. When it’s all done, they report to Radha Hall and get a nice chunk of change for their efforts. It’s the kind of money Surge has never seen in his life.

He consults with the kids. This money isn’t everything, but it’s not nothing. It’s enough that they could get a cheap place, get cleaned up, get jobs—for the older kids, anyway—to sustain themselves. Things would still be tight, and it might not work out, but they wouldn’t be fighting monsters anymore. Or... they could keep going. It’s only going to get more dangerous, but also more profitable.

Root speaks up first: “Let’s keep going.” That’s all he says, but Cherry pipes up to agree, as does Mirinda. Surge looks to Pepper, tells him, If you want to, we can get out of this and get normal lives, but Pepper shakes his head. He knows that the others need him. What’ll they do if they get hurt?

Surge reiterates their goal from the start. They’ll make enough to be comfortable, and then peace out before they get themselves killed. With that, Bubble Guild descends into the second stratum.

SECOND STRATUM: Primitive Jungle

Shortly after first entering the Primitive Jungle, Bubble Guild picks up a job to slay a spider monster that has been causing issues on the fifth floor. It is a fairly easy task for them, but afterwards, Valerie at the bar tells Surge (who always goes in alone, letting the younger kids wait outside) that all the younger explorers are looking up to Bubble these days. Surge is concerned about what ‘younger’ means. Are there other guilds filled with literal children?

Soon the next task from Radha Hall comes in: to steal an egg from the terrifying Wyvern on the eighth floor. Pepper feels weird about this task. Stealing an egg? That doesn’t seem very nice. It’s Cherry who tells him to suck it up. They’ve been killing loads of creatures out there anyway, this is no different.

When they turn the egg in, they are graced with an audience with Visil, the Chieftain of the Radha. Visil congratulates the guild on their hard work, and says he has high hopes for their progress, as few explorers these days make it as far as they have. The kids seem thrilled with the praise, but Surge is unmoved. Something seems sketchy about this guy...

With a little more progress, the guild comes back to town to a further request: to kill Cernunnos, the beast preventing access to the third stratum. On their way to do so, the group runs into Ren and Tlachtga. Ren implies that other guilds have also been given the task, and that Visil expects most of them to die. The kids aren’t intimidated; Cherry insists that they’re better than all the others! Surge can’t help but think of how many kids have been sent to their deaths... Something is seriously wrong with this place.

Nonetheless, they take out Cernunnos and report its demise to Radha Hall. Surge goes into the Hall fully intending to get the reward and call it quits, but when they get the money in their hands, its not quite double what they got for finishing the first stratum. They could get by on this for a while, for sure, but can he really guarantee a future for these kids with this? Plus, they’re all so excited. Mirinda and Cherry are already talking about what they might get next time.

Surge resigns himself. One more stratum, and then they’ll be good. This time for sure.

THIRD STRATUM: Azure Rainforest

Surge gives the kids a bit of a break between strata. He needs a day to think about how far they’ve come and where they’re going. Pepper, Cherry, and Mirinda use the time to relax and hang out, buying some slightly expensive food and otherwise just chilling. Root goes off on his own. He’s heard about a challenge given out by the explorers’ guild, and goes there to confirm. Ganryu, the guildmaster, is challenging adventurers to venture into the labyrinth alone and defeat a Cutter in single combat. Ganryu seems apprehensive when Root shows interest, but does not stop him. Without telling the others, Root goes into the dungeon and challenges a Cutter. His plan is to land enough binds not to worry about the beast’s strongest attacks, but his binds don’t land, and it comes down to pure damage. When he emerges victorious anyway, he feels a great boost in confidence. He is proud of how far he’s come since he started this journey.

Bubble Guild is asked to properly map the 11th and 12th floors, as the Radha’s soldiers are having trouble with it. When the group returns with the maps, Quinn pays them, and also mentions that Visil seems apprehensive about pushing further to discover the labyrinth’s secrets. Mirinda is curious about these secrets, but the others are largely indifferent to them; they are here to get paid. The guild’s next task is to investigate reports of a humanoid creature seen deeper into the labyrinth.

Sure enough, Bubble has a run-in with a feathered girl named Kupala who makes vague warnings about not venturing further. But venturing further is what Bubble is being paid to do, and so they continue on. They make their way to the end of the stratum, where Kupala awaits. She claims that, by coming this far, they have broken some ancient pact. She calls upon a monster, the great Corotrangul, which attacks. Bubble defeats it fairly easily, however. When they do, Kupala is gone, but she has left behind a stone tablet.

The group takes the tablet to Quinn, who rewards them handsomely and encourages them to continue on to the fourth stratum. Surge had planned to tell Quinn that they would be quitting after this, but can’t bring himself to say the words. Despite spending much of their time knee-deep in the forest’s dangers, the quality of life for these kids has steadily gone up. They are wearing better clothes, eating better food. They could dip out now, Surge could get a more standard job, but he wouldn’t be able to sustain this for all of them. Plus, adventuring has been good for them in other ways, too. They seem happier. Root talks a lot more, even when not prompted. So, Surge agrees, and the guild makes plans to enter the fourth stratum.

FOURTH STRATUM: Sandy Barrens

Pepper has acquainted himself with Dr. Hoffman, who runs the apothecary. According to Dr. Hoffman, Bubble’s exploration efforts have already helped with the advancement of medicine in Etria. If they go even further, who knows what medical mysteries the doctor will be able to unlock!

Shortly into the fourth stratum, the guild finds a slot that the stone tablet would fit perfectly into. They return to Radha Hall for the tablet, but Visil is waiting to speak with them there. He explains that, for some reason, the forest folk will stop at nothing to halt humans’ advancement into the labyrinth. Indeed, many adventurers have been killed by them. If they will not stand down, they must be annihilated, for the sake of the town. After his speech, he hands the party the tablet.

The guild is understandably torn about what Visil has asked them to do, but Surge urges them to continue on for now. They do not have to commit to anything yet. A little further in, Kupala appears. Surge is able to ask her about her so-called pact, and for the first time she believes that they are uninformed. She clarifies that humans and the forest folk made a pact a long, long time ago. The pact states that the bottom strata of the forest are left to the forest folk alone, and that humans are not to venture there. Now knowing the truth about the pact, Pepper and Mirinda feel sure that some better solution can be negotiated.

They take this info to Visil. He is unmoved. The bottom line is that, if they obey the pact, Etria will lose its greatest source of income—and so, too, will Bubble. The mission to annihilate the forest folk stands.

The kids of Bubble are despondent. This does not feel right. Surge is the one who speaks up. There is no stability in the world of regular people. If they give up adventuring, they could very well end up back on the streets, scrounging for every meal. Surge is unwilling to go back to that. Cherry and Root silently agree. Pepper waffles, but Cherry reminds him that medical advancements depend on their discoveries. Pepper reasons that more people will be saved in the long run by them continuing to explore than will be lost in the coming conflict... probably.

Surge turns to Mirinda then, and tells her, firmly, to go home. She, at least, does not need to be complicit in this. She refuses. He commands her. She says no. He yells at her to go the fuck home. She cries and says no, no, no. Cherry steps between them. “She’s one of us,” Cherry says. It’s the five of them against the forest folk.

They make their way to a floor that is wide open desert. It is here that they face their first violent opposition from the forest folk. Perhaps the forest folk are out of practice, however... They are surprisingly fragile when put to weapons. The floor is soon littered with greenish corpses.

Bubble clears the way to the final floor of the stratum. Kupala appears here, clearly frustrated. She asks why Bubble would do what they’ve done when their own people want them dead, a statement that makes little sense to Surge and the kids. Kupala challenges the crew, saying that the forest folks’ toughest warriors are on this floor, as well as their guardian beast, the bird Iwaoropenelep. In a gruelling, multi-day showdown, the guild succeeds in eliminating the forest folks’ warrior class. Kupala emerges one last time to admit defeat and say that there is nothing else she can do to stop them, then vanishes.

Back in town, the guild is rewarded handsomely for their success, but this time the money feels foul despite its heft. Still, having come this far, there is no question that they will continue into the fifth stratum, where no one else has gone before. Quinn asks that, as they do, they keep an eye out for Visil. The leader of the Radha has vanished.

FIFTH STRATUM: Lost Shinjuku

The guild decides to take a bit of time to decompress, but Root can’t stand the quiet. He does down to the guild hall, where he learns that there is another solo mission being given out, this time to defeat a Killclaw. Root takes it and heads out without telling anyone. This task is harder than the last one, as Killclaws must be drawn out by the sounds of combat, so Root must take care to fight other creatures first, and not defeat them too quickly. When the Killclaw appears, it hits hard and takes little damage, so the fight is protracted and brutal. Root returns from it victorious but injured, and goes to Pepper for help.

Surge is there, and is shocked at Root’s state. He forces the boy to spill the beans about his solo missions. Surge goes from shocked to furious, and storms into the guild hall to demand answers. Ganryu simply states that he doesn’t prevent any willing parties from attempting his tasks, but provides no comment on how many people—kids—have died on these tasks. It turns out there is one more coming up, and Surge doesn’t want to see Root risking his life on it... so he takes it. He goes into the fourth stratum and challenges a Sickwood alone, blasting it with flame as he is eaten away by its poison. He wins, but barely, and limps back to town, satisfied that Root won’t die by any more of these foolish endeavours.

After the boys recover, the guild finally ventures into the fifth stratum. It is a strange place, filled with bizarrely huge buildings. When passing from one building to another, the guild is stopped by Ren and Tlachtga. Ren says that Etria depends on adventurers coming through, hoping to get to the bottom of the labyrinth, but, for that very reason, none must succeed. Bubble is getting too close, and now they must die.

The problem is that Bubble have gotten this far by their own strength, and that strength is more than enough to smack down Ren and Tlachtga. The women accede. Ren tells the guild that Visil waits for them below.

Bubble chips away at the stratum while taking requests at the bar, as usual. While waiting outside the bar for Surge, Pepper sees a kid younger than him go in, and then, minutes later, emerge, visibly upset. Once Surge returns, Pepper asks about it. It turns out that the kid needs materials to help his sick mom, but only has 50 ental to pay for the quest, so Surge passed on it. Pepper is appalled, and begs Surge to take the quest. He doesn’t want the kid to end up like him, an orphan with nowhere to go. Surge relents, and they find the materials, which, predictably, does not pay well, but Pepper is happy anyway. Even Surge feels good after doing a good deed.

At the bottom of the fifth stratum, Visil guards a large, mysterious door. He praises the guild for being better than Ren and Tlachtga, as well as every other guild that has attempted and failed to get this far. He claims that if the guild simply turns back, he will pay them. This is a tempting proposition to Surge, but as he considers, Mirinda speaks up: “What’s behind the door?” Visil turns quietly furious. He will tell them, but only in exchange for their lives, he says, and then he passes through the door.

Mirinda is worried that she screwed up, and indeed, for a moment everyone looks at her with disappointment, but then they all relax. Surge admits that he wasn’t sure he could trust Visil’s offer. Pepper says he, too, was more curious about what’s behind the door at this point. Cherry is pissed that he had them kill so many forest folk, and now she wants to know why.

Past the door, they hear about the Yggdrasil Project, the civilization lost to time, and Visil’s own role in it all. It seems he felt that anyone knowing about it would put the project at risk, which is why he tried to have the team commit suicide via forest folk, and then sent his warrior pair to finish them. That concern stands: he does not intend to let Surge and the kids live.

However, all his attempts to kill them trained them too well. With Root’s binds, Mirinda’s arrows, and Surge’s flames, Visil soon perishes.

After the guild re-emerges from the labyrinth, they go to Quinn and tell him everything they’ve heard. No one is sure exactly what to do next. It seems wrong to keep what they’ve learned to themselves after everything. In fact, Root reasons that it is better that people know, so they don’t repeat the mistakes of the previous civilization. Surge’s concern is that Etria’s economy will dry up. People are driven to discover the labyrinth’s secret, but now that it’s been discovered...

No matter what happens, Quinn promises, the Bubble Guild will have the Radha’s support, as thanks for all they’ve done. The kids will never go hungry again. In return, Surge asks that some rules are made around who is allowed into the labyrinth. No more kids too young to know what they’re doing should die in the forest.

For a while, they relax, laze around, take in being comfortable for the first time. As they do, they observe the town. If anything, it is busier than ever. Somehow, finding out the labyrinth’s big secret has given rise to all sorts of rumours regarding its smaller, still undiscovered ones. How many have any merit? Surge figures it doesn’t matter, as long as people are exploring. Root starts to get excited. If there is anything left, who better to discover it than Bubble? The kids begin to get excited about going back down there. Cherry would like to find the forest folk girl, Kupala, to make sure she is okay.

And so, though they no longer have any financial need to, Bubble Guild readies themselves for another dive into the Yggdrasil Labyrinth.

#personal #etrian odyssey #i breezed through this game so quickly i decided not to break up the post #EOI is definitely lighter on quests and events than the other games so i had a little less to latch onto #on the other hand i knew the twists ahead of time from EOU #so i made my party with that in mind. i can't imagine how folks playing blind rationalize what they are asked to do... #oh and i'm not doing the postgame on this one. fuck that lol #you can get through the main game fine but the postgame is where the real archaic shit comes up

[romanwagncr]

gifs credited to @conjuringgifs & @keetikagifs

Character Name: Roman Wagner

Character Age: 36

Birthday: April 15th, 1987

Faceclaim: Chris Evans

Neighborhood: Orchird Park

Occupation: Cyber Security Developer (Fortress Networks that is based in New York City)

Biography 

Roman Wagner was born and raised in New York City to wealthy, loving parents Charles and Madeline Wagner. As the middle child sandwiched between his older sister, Alexandra, and younger brother, Sebastian, he enjoyed a comfortable upbringing full of private schools, European vacations, and elite social circles. Although his parents came from old money and gave him a lavish upbringing, they also instilled in him a strong sense of family, hard work and duty. Roman attended Trinity School for high school. With his good looks, and charisma, he quickly became one of the most popular students on campus. He excelled both academically and in lacrosse. With his confident charm, he had no trouble getting dates and leaving a trail of broken hearts behind him. 

He had always dreamed of attending Columbia University—wanting to follow in his parents footsteps—and he made that happen after graduating high school. There, he majored in computer science and acquired a bachelors and masters degree. He met Samara Khanna when he was 23 and fell hard and fast for her—and had even envisioned a future together. After over two years of dating, she told him that she was planning on returning to her hometown of Covington, Georgia after graduation. Foolishly, he’d forced her to choose. She chose Covington which forced them apart. 

It broke his heart—driving him to dive headfirst into New York's tech scene, co-founding the cyber security firm Fortress Networks with his college roommate. Throwing himself into growing his company—he embraced his reputation as an ambitious, cutthroat businessman and charming playboy. Over the next decade, he turned Fortress into one of the hottest cyber security startups in the industry, landing big-name clients and amassing a personal fortune.

Two years ago, Roman's fast-paced life was upended when his cousin, Jasmine, arrived unannounced at his door with her 4 year old daughter, Ivy. The next day, he got another surprise. With only a vague note explaining her inability to care for the child, Jasmine left Roman to raise Ivy as his own. He was initially hesitant, but he didn’t have the heart to leave Ivy behind, so he decided to become her legal guardian. At first, he struggled to adjust to suddenly being a single father and caring for a young child. He had to learn how to cook healthy meals, get Ivy ready for preschool each morning, and entertain her on weekends. His social life took a backseat as he devoted his time and energy to giving Ivy a stable, loving home. 

With a new priority, Roman decided to relocate to provide Ivy the calm, wholesome childhood he never had growing up in bustling Manhattan. After searching for the right environment, he decided on Covington, Georgia—coincidentally the very town Samara had left him for over a decade prior. The irony was not lost on him, but he focused on giving Ivy the stable home she deserved. The small town had a charming main street lined with mom-and-pop shops, a top-rated school district, and a quaint neighborhood ideal for raising a family.

Personality

Charismatic: It has always been easy for Roman to make friends. It helps that he's good looking and friendly too. He has no trouble attracting romantic partners.

Ambitious: Built a successful cybersecurity startup and amassed a fortune through hard work and drive. Known as a cutthroat businessman.

Family-oriented: Although his family rarely see each other—since most of them were living in different states—they kept in contact and meet up once a year for a family vacation.

Responsible: Stepped up to raise Ivy on his own and provide for her, even though it was unexpected. Learned skills like cooking and childcare out of duty.

Wanted Connections

Ex-girlfriend: Samara Khanna

Love Interest: They met as kids at camp and the moment he saw her, he was smitten. She was his first kiss. They meet again as adults and are friends who hangout for the sake of their kids until old feelings arise. Callie Montgomery

A fellow single parent: They met through Ivy's school. Since Roman is new at parenting, he could use a friend who would help guide him.

A neighbor: Their kids play together and occasionally share home-cooked meals (he's a horrible cook but has a personal chef lol) or watch each other's kids in a pinch.

Classic car enthusiast: Roman has a collection of cars, and is a bit of a geek. I'd like it if he could have a friend who's just as geeky when it comes to cars lol. I could use more than one connection here!. Drew Parrish

Friends: Pretty straight forward

Enemies: This could be someone he might have accidentally offended.

#covingtonintro

[5sosfanfictioncatalogue]

Platonic Cuddling Masterlist

Go Ahead Rip My Heart Out (ao3) - spacepixie michael/calum, luke/oc M, 33k (WIP)

Summary: “You waste your money on the dumbest shit.” He murmured under his breath hoping Calum didn’t hear him. But alas the other man did as he shoved Michael roughly in the chest before grabbing his coffee cup and exiting the shop leaving Michael dumbfounded. 

Or 

Angsty Malum & road trip(s)

holding on��(ao3) - citiesbelow michael/crystal, mentioned sierra/luke T, 1k

Summary: After their first headlining shows in years, the boys don’t want to split up to go to bed. This is just shameless fluff.

Just Know That It’s The Same For Me (ao3) - slashter michael/luke, calum/ashton, michael/harry E, 5k

Summary: Luke doesn't get what exactly happened between them at the dinner, replays the conversation over and over in her head but to no avail. She's stuck, completely lost, and, to top it all off, still so fucking in love with the one person who won't give her the fucking time of day.  It's absolute shit.

[Or the one where Luke is head over heels for Mikey but Mikey doesn't seem to feel the same way]

Keeping Us Together (ao3) - Strength_in_pain T, 91k (WIP)

Summary: Twenty-two year old Ashton Irwin is the older brother and guardian of his three younger brothers: Michael, Calum, and Luke. He and his brothers are coping with the death of his parents. Ashton has too much responsibility with bills, work, keeping the house in order, and being a full time parent. His three brothers aren't making it easier for him. Ashton is struggling to keep his family together.

maybe this is just as good as it gets (ao3) - bellawritess T, 2k

Summary: "Do you guys like me?"

For a minute there's no response. Then Calum, sounding moderately confused, says, "Are you talking to me?"

"Yeah," Luke says.

miserable at best (ao3) - orphan_account luke/ashton T, 622

Summary: "I've never been so happy and so heartbroken at the same time. it's like he enjoys seeing me upset." -Ashton Irwin

Puzzle Pieces (ao3) - allsassnoclass (brightblackholes) michael/calum T, 19k

Summary: Michael has wanted a soulmate ever since he first learned what the blue on the back of his mother's neck means. This is the story of how he gets three, and how he figures out what that means to him.

Softer (ao3) - ashton_cuddles94 M, 1k

Summary: @/twitteruser: "I'm not really into 5sos, but the pudgy drummer is so cute".

"Pudgy?", Ashton thought to himself, putting his phone down in his bunk.

He placed a hand on his stomach, not expecting his fingers to sink in as much as they did. His eyebrows shot up in concern.

"Have I really gotten that soft?"

So Much Better (ao3) - cashcakeplz calum/ashton, michael/luke, bryana/ashton N/R, 84k

Summary: This is good, good for Ashton. He works so hard, always taking care of the boys, he deserves someone who will take his mind off of things, even for a couple of hours to get coffee. Maybe it’ll make him better, and by extension, the band better. Maybe Bryana is a good thing for everyone. Yet, even now, as Calum tries to think of how great Bryana could be for Ashton, he can’t help but think that he would be so much better.

Or the one where Calum and Ashton have been Friends With Benefits for years, and Calum thought his feelings for Ashton were simply sexual until Bryana came into the picture.

Sweater Weather (ao3) - allsassnoclass (brightblackholes) pre michael/calum G, 1k

Summary: Michael spends Christmas Eve of 2012 with Calum, waking up late, playing video games, and opening a package.

#5sosfanfictioncatalogue #5sos fanfic #5sos #5 seconds of summer #platonic #platoniccuddling masterlist #platoniccuddling #masterlists

[ecargmura]

The Yuzuki Family's Four Brothers Episode 1 Review - They're Brothers

Crunchyroll, are you okay? Your subtitles are out of control. The translations are off. There are so many spelling errors. Worst of all, they repeat in some sections. Like, what’s going on over there? Did someone get into a fight with the company?

Worries aside, the premiere of this episode was rather sweet. It clearly shows they are a family not just in appearance but in action too. They’re not the typical family as they lost their parents a few years prior to the story, but they’re living as peacefully as possible with the new changes in their lives.

Eldest brother Hayato (23) is the legal guardian for his younger brothers. He functions as both parent and big brother while working full time as a teacher. He relies on second oldest Mikoto (13) for chores and chides third oldest Minato (12) for being a troublemaker. They all dote on the youngest, Gakuto (6).

The main focus character for this first episode seems to be Minato as his thoughts and worries are spotlighted the most. He wants to be helpful to Hayato, but he is clumsy at whatever he does, which makes Hayato stressed. He is also sensitive about being 11 months younger than Mikoto. Since Japanese school systems start from April to March and their birthdays are on April and March respectively, they’re put in the same grade. Given how much Mikoto is relied upon and is popular at school, Minato can’t help but to feel insecure around him. Despite being super prone to making mistakes, his biggest good trait is that he has a younger brother. Having Gakuto as his younger brother means he can be someone Gakuto relies upon and be a doting brother towards.

To be honest, seeing Minato really hits home with me. I honestly relate to Minato a lot. I caused trouble whenever I helped out as a kid that my mom scolded me all the time and I still get scolded to this day; Asian parents.… Minato being 11 months younger than Mikoto is also something I can relate to. Guess what? I’m also 11 months younger than my older brother; our birthdays are on the same months as Mikoto and Minato with my brother’s being on April and mine being on March. While I didn’t have much issues growing up with that short of an age gap, the only instance I met siblings with the same age gap as me and my bro was in middle school where my neighbor at the time was also 11 months younger than her older brother but their birthdays were on November and December. It’s an extremely rare age gap and I think it’s precious in a way. It’s rare to see such an age gap in anime, so I definitely will keep this anime in my mind for the rest of my life; I think the only other instance of a months age gap between blood siblings I saw in anime was Rin and Gou Matsuoka from Free where they have a 10 month age gap with Rin being born on February and Gou being born on December, which means they were technically born on the same year.

Mikoto probably has the least amount of screen time between the brothers in this episode, but a lot is shown about him. He’s the most dependable brother of the three younger ones. Because of that, he can see through their perspectives, which allows Hayato to try and be more understanding towards Minato and not just see him as a troublemaker.

Hayato has the biggest burden of the four because he’s the one raising three young boys while being young himself. Like one of his colleagues mentioned, he’s a 23 year old brother that suddenly became a 40-year-old father. I love the fact that he’s doing this because he respects his parents. Given that he has a 10-year age gap with Mikoto, an 11 year age gap with Minato and a 16 year age gap with Gakuto, it makes sense why he’d want to raise them on his own; his parents did the same long before he gained siblings. He’s such a good and responsible son. I just hope that one day, his stresses will lessen because he’s clearly the equivalent of a young single Asian mom with three kids.

Gakuto is very mature for a first-grader. He doesn’t complain at all. However, because of this, he holds back a lot from what he really wants. He wanted to see fireworks, but couldn’t say it to Hayato. This is how Minato catches on and takes him to the festival. Because he’s so young, I do wonder how this will affect him in the future.

The minor characters are all rather peaceful. Nobody is conflicting here, which is a good thing because this anime doesn’t need a villain or anything. Uta is Minato’s best friend and her brother Waka is Gakuto’s best friend. It also seems that Gakuto goes to their house often when school ends, so the family is acquainted with Uta’s grandfather too. Minato’s other friend Nikaidou does his homework, so the slackers copy it. I do wonder if Mikoto has any friends or if Minato’s friends are his mutual friends too. Hayato’s colleagues are kind and they should be featured more often.

The voice acting is a bit hit or miss. 95% of the cast are rookies or voice actors that aren’t super well-known yet. The voice actors for the brothers are all rather new faces. The only one I am a bit aware of is Mikoto’s who is voiced by Kikunosuke Touya who is known for voicing Denji in Chainsaw Man. I think Hayato’s VA voiced a character in an anime I saw in the past. The biggest name on the major cast is Fumihiko Tachiki who voices Uta’s grandpa. Other than that, that’s about it. Because they’re rookies, it’s really hard for me to judge their performances because they’re so…new! Though, the only one I don’t like at the moment is Uta’s; her voice sounds a bit monotone, but my opinion can change in the future.

Animation’s great, honestly. I love the part where Minato grabs Gakuto’s arm and helps guide him to catching the balloons. The soundtrack is okay, but I love the opening and ending songs!

I can’t wait to watch more of this show. I can tell it’s going to be a healing and a heart wrenching one. I just hope that the fight in Crunchyroll HQ stops because this anime is sweet but the subtitles make it unbearable. What are your thoughts about this premiere, ignoring the awful subs?

#yuzuki san chi no yon kyoudai #the Yuzuki family's four brothers #Hayato yuzuki #Mikoto yuzuki #minato yuzuki #Gakuto yuzuki #review #anime #anime review #arum journal #ecargmura #fall 2023 anime

[starsaviour48]

Space wars AU

It's ya boi with a new AU. This time with a little bit of darkness as spice. WARNING: This fic contains child abuse.

So let's jump into this shall we? The main idea is basicly both factions realise that Cybertron is going to be destroied if they keep up this war. So an agreement was made by Megatron and Optimus Prime which contains that the planet must be evacuated and they shall continue their warfare in space or other planets which don't have civilization on it (you can imagine that the latter was sometimes overruled). So there is the main ship of the fleet (Omega-1 on the autobot side Nemesis on the decepticon side) on this ship we have the representatives of each teams/squads (the other members are on other ships of the fleet ofc) so the bots who Optimus thinks he needs in close range. Sooo introducing the main cast! And guess what Smokescreen and Bumblebee star in this one too (well I always try to give everyone equal attention as someone should have khm live action khm khm) so basicly the story followes them and drum roll pls: Devcon✨. That's right I love this character and I need to see him more but not everyone can have their well deserved spot light.

Smokescreen

Prowl Blue and Smokes trinity is back. They are coming from an abusive family. Prowl as the older brother took it up on himself to protect his younger siblings. Smokescreen and Bluestreak disliked the way how their brother took every single hit for them but Prowl was stubborn as pit and he quicly shut down any attept from his siblings to take some of the responsibility of the protector roll. Eventually things got bad really quicly when Prowl got into the hospital with a broken chestplate. Smokescreen feared that he could lose his dear brother if he doesn't act. So he started doing bad stuff on purpose. Like starting random fights at school, stealing, gambeling and talked back to their "guardians" on every chance he got. Of course this had the desired effect the attetion shifted from the older sibling to the middle one. Prowl being still at the hospital and Blue not being old enough to help Smokescreen (he wouldn't have let him anyways) created a bad out come to Smokescreen. He took a beating so hard that his processor's memory department was damaged that led him with a really bad memory. Basicly he forgets a lot of things (mostly random things) but some come back to him naturally. This incident was enough for Prowl to say "no thank you" and left with his baby siblings.

Relationships

Prowl and Bluestreak after the incident become very protective of Smokescreen since he was now easy to take advantage of. Smokescreen appreciates them but sometimes he feels like they are going too far.

Bumblebee is Smokescreen's boyfriend (can't escape the Smokebee sorry I know I'm terrible shame on me) they got to know each other in the young soldier program. Their relationship is basicly every sappy teanage romance. No.1 notebook of Smokescreen's.

Devcon is the childhood friend who always helped the datsuns whenever he could. He had a loveing but poor family. No.2 notebook of Smokescreen's.

Personality

A sweet overenergetic young bot who is more then ready to prove himself. Real confused cinamonroll who is a big fan of Optimus and sees Prowl as his rolemodel. Can and will chat about everything. But don't let his cutness fool you cause he has a dark side. He can confuse the pit out of you and can lie and deceive you very easily (the cons are keeping him on the "20 most dangerous autobot hit list" he is that much of a problem.) He has the most info of every bot. So don't mess with him because he CAN ruin your life.

Bumblebee

Born in the "Slums" Bee was a very capable bot from day 1. He had to learn how to survive in a cruel world that only took things from him and never gave him anything. He never knew who his parents were but he never really cared. They left him and that's all that mattered to him. Ratchet found him when Bee tried to steal from him. He took him in and let the young mech choose his own path which was deciding to be a recruite in the Scout Team. He and Optimus worked together a lot and that made a Prime really fond of him. Tragedy striked when Megatron traumatized the scout by killing everyone in his squad and leaving him as the messanger to Optimus. The Prime was worried about the mechling and so he send him to the back lines of the war for a while until he feels ready to fight again.

Relationships

Smokescreen is his boyfriend as previously mentioned. He adores the young mech and his overly friendly and curious nature. He is always there to remind his love about the things he forgets from time to time and in exchange Smokescreen is always there with him to support him and cheer him up. It's a win win situation.

Ratchet is like a carrier to him. Most of his knowledge is from him and he respects the older bot. He is the most open with Ratchet and when something happens it's the old doctor that knows what's going on first.

Devcon and Bumblebee's relationship started pretty rocky. Bee found the bounty hunter scary and didn't understand what a guy like him was doing with a cinamonroll like Smokescreen. He thought he was dangerous at first but after getting to know the bot they become like brothers. Bonding over the protection of memory boy.

Personality

Before the incident he was a happy easy going bot but after he become more reserved. He become wary of bots and doesn't shares his real personality with everyone. But under the tough layer lies a gentle and really emotional bot. However he is still a force to be afraid of. He is really determinde bot who stands up after any blow (also on the hit list). Don't mess with his loved ones.

Devcon

Coming from a poor autobot family Devcon is determinde to become succesfull in life. He studies criminology for a while when his life took an unexpected turn. His family had an unpaid debt towards a decepticon maffia boss. Unfortunatly his family couldn't pay the maffia which killed them leaving a bloody message for Devcon. But the bot wasn't scared easily. Out of rage he hunt down the maffia one by one and after no one left he moved on. He realised his talent in bounty hunting and wanted to pursue this life carrier which however meant leaving his only friend behinde. Instead of chasing after the desired wealth he stayed beside Smokescreen and his siblings, using the occasional bounties to help them get by.

Relationships

Smokescreen is his trusted best friend. They were always there for each other no matter what. He visited countless doctors to get Smokescreen's memory problem treated but everyone said they can't help them. That didn't meant that he will stop trying.

Bumblebee is like a younger sibling to him that he didn't thought he needed. Would do anything to see the yellow bot smile. In his free time he reads "how to help bots through trauma" guide books.

Prowl and Blue are basicly family. Touch them and you will meet Devcon's sniper rifle up close.

Personality

Scary looking, quite bot but he is really empathic and a great friend in general. He always tries his best to give everything to the bots who stayed beside him. Tried older sibling vibes who mostly observes the chaos before joining in anyways. Calm and collected as always he is the type of bot who thinks first and acts after (truly a rare kind.) He is a deadly assassin who is also on the hit list (he is the highest out of the three of them, weird flex but okay) decepticons that mess with him and his rag tag family fear him.

#transformers #bumblebee #smokescreen #new au i guess #transformers prime #devcon #transformers prowl #new au idea #bluestreak #optimus prime #ratchet

[cringeyvanillamilk]

Hello I am new, I saw your clovertob: Day 2 - Switched at birth (Asta and Noelle). And I liked, I have a request to make if you don't mind, can you do a fanfiction or do a description of how it will be with the Black bulls ?

Hello! It's nice to meet you! I hope you had a nice day!

I'm happy to revisit one of my AUs! I remembered being very satisfied with this AU during Clovertober! Sadly, I'm not really experienced in writing fanfiction... But!! I'd be happy to give a description on how it will be with the Black bulls!

Switched at birth AU:

Since Noelle and Asta are switched at birth, that means their personalities will change. The environment shaped who they become and thus have traits that they might not share with their OG counterparts.

In summary, Asta has issues and is very guarded while Noelle is more approachable and spunky.

Now given how Noelle came into the squad without taking the entrance exam in the canon universe, I feel like this AU's Asta would actually go through with it just to spite his siblings. Who cares if he's royalty, he wants to show the world what he's capable of!

And if Asta managed to still have access to anti-magic, possibly obtained it when he ran away from home one time, then he'd use it during his match.

Since he has no magic, he'd still fail all of the trials except the combat test. He would actually have two choices of who to join, the crimson lions or the black bulls. But for the sake of finding his own path, he'd go with the black bulls.

I feel like Noelle would fail most of the tests, but not all of them! She still lacks control in this AU, but she'd at least gain Yami's attention. Nozel is sussing her out though. She looks strangely similiar to his mother, Acier... hmmm...

Now onto their experiences in the black bulls!

I feel like Asta would feel out of place in the squad. He's a lot more guarded, but still eager to prove himself. He's training everyday, but doesn't socialize as much. He's too focused on getting stronger and has no time to make friends!

Magna would be the first to try and open Asta's heart. This royal ain't like the others, so what's his deal? At first, Asta tries to push Magna away due to his trust issues, but later down the road, Asta might end up seeing Magna as a trusted brother figure. He grew up with no reliable guardian and so he'd feel very attached to Magna as a result. Their bond in this AU is a lot more close and intimate in comparison to the canon.

Noelle would be a lot more friendly, so she'd befriend mostly everyone in the squad. She tends to talk back to Yami a lot more so she's usually the victim to his head grabs. Because of her blunt personality, she's the one who ends up doing all the chores in the base. Asta doesn't help but he thinks it's a waste of time and wants to focus on training instead.

Asta and Noelle don't actually click right away when they first met. In fact, they hated each other! Asta didn't like how arrogant Noelle gets with her magic. Due to his jealousy and inferior complex, he becomes very upset that someone who is around the same age as him is a lot stronger. And for Noelle, she hated how defensive Asta gets when he's around her. She doesn't get why he's being very snippy with her.

The fact that Asta is a noble doesn't help either. Noelle is very prejudiced against nobles and royals.

They'd initially become toxic rivals, until the guidance of the other squad members helped them finally become proper rivals. The ones who were more involved in this were Vanessa, Magna, and Yami.

Vanessa still becomes an older sister figure to Noelle and so it makes sense that she'd be more involved in trying to get her and Asta to get along. As an older brother figure to Asta, Magna felt like it was his responsibility to help out. Yami, on the other hand, thought they were getting annoying and so he threatened them to stop fighting or else he'll kill them.

Yami would try and send Noelle and Asta on missions together to work on their teamwork and cooperation with one other squad member for mediation.

Noelle will be more like the OG Asta for this AU in terms of her role and influence in the squad while Asta would be like the OG Noelle.

I feel like they'd see each other strictly as friends, but if any romantic feelings were to arise, it'd actually be from Asta.

Overall, the dynamic of Noelle and Asta with the black bulls changes drastically due to their new personalities.

#black clover #noelle silva #asta #switched at birth au #answered #THIS WAS FUN NOT GONNA LIE- #Having these two have diff personalities really makes a difference #the black bull dynamic is switched between the two- #Some relationship are more closer than the OG AU #i feel like they're both tsunderes which is a big UH OH #LOVE IS WAR BUT MAKE IT MAGIC-