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eskumii · 2 months

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❝ TROPHY WIFE ❞ — yandere!uzui tengen/wives + you're his first wife

SYNOPSIS: suppose you're uzui tengen's very first wife, the one that slipped through the cracks of your unwanted arranged marriage with him. along with your disappearance went his heart, and now you must bear the consequences of a man who loves his wife far beyond her understanding—so much so that he would kill for her, die for her, and do anything to make her stay. — navi.

WORD COUNT: 5.7k

NOTES: mdni! (cw: non-con) this is an arranged/forced marriage au. it's meant to be one-sided. it took me quite literally forever to finish this lol ,,

PAIRING: yandere!uzui tengen x wife!reader

CHARACTERS: uzui tengen (19-23), reader (18-22), suma (19), makio (20), hinatsuru (21)

I. TO BE WED

imagine being uzui tengen's very first wife.

your hand in marriage was promised to him by your parents, who owned a tax-collecting business that was often the target of hostility from the impoverished people of your hometown. tengen routinely passed through your village on demon slayer business, so your parents could always rest assured knowing he would take care of the violent stragglers that sometimes loitered outside.

ironically being poor themselves, they had little to offer the hashira as payment for his noble duties; well, that "little" didn't exclude you of course, their only daughter who's failed to find a husband far past the age of when other girls were normally wed. you're still young, fertile, and moderately attractive, but your strong disinterest in potential suitors often drove any chances of a wealthy marriage away.

however, after being introduced to tengen, the man you'll be forced to marry out of obligation, you begin to regret being so stubborn after all.

admittedly, tengen found you to be pretty plain at first. you're poor so you can't exactly dress flashy, and you come from a no-name family with little legacy. your parents swore up and down on your domestic efficiency—hardworking, great cook, a tame disposition—and, well, at least you're kind of cute, too. tengen is intrigued by your potential the most.

your parents force you to do whatever you can to get close to him. the truth is, though, you don't really have to do anything with the way he seeks you out himself. he often shows up at your door asking for you, and your parents have no qualms about dragging you out of your room to make you go out with him.

he takes you to the nicer parts of town and pays for dinner or buys you flowers and little trinkets from the shop vendors that line the streets. it doesn't help that the elderly people running the stands egg you on, saying things like "what a lovely young couple" or "your children would be so beautiful!" tengen simply smiles with ease, accepting their praise as if it's second nature. you get rather embarrassed by his shameless indulgence.

there's small talk but you find it incredibly stifling. tengen does a majority of the dialoguing but most of the time your dates get interrupted by his kasugai crow, who squawks at him whenever a demon shows up nearby. he always looks annoyed and promises to make it up to you, leaning down to pat your head like you're his pet dog or something. you hate it and him too, probably.

"i'll be back before you know it, darling," his smile is charming but not to you. "you'll stay right here for me, won't you?"

regardless of your somewhat obvious hesitance to accept his advances, tengen gets attached to you like it was meant to be. the idea of having a pretty little housewife for him to come home to after his draining missions becomes increasingly attractive, and the more time he spends with you, the more he sees the appeal of your being. it must be a miracle that no man has taken you as his wife yet; surely you were saving yourself for a man like him.

unfortunately, though, you don't want to marry tengen.

an arranged marriage? it's simply not the kind of life you envision for yourself. you aren't willing to bet the rest of your days on a man whom you have a slim chance of falling in love with, all for the sake of financial security. but what else can you do? your parents already made it very clear they would disown you if you refuse, and tengen is pressuring you to your death with his sweet words and annoyingly thoughtful presents. you're stuck.

eventually, the incessant nagging from your parents and weeks of endless courting from tengen sway you so sooner. you fold like a cheap hand fan and succumb to your fate, to a future you knew from the very beginning that you would come to despise.

he's the only suitor you have at this point. it's not like you have a choice. and the one choice you do have just so happens to be him, a man who is the nearest thing to a perfect match as you're ever gonna get. you should be happy. thankful. he'll give you the world if you just give him a chance.

at least, that's what he told you.

II. THE SOUND HASHIRA

your parents are so happy to send you off.

they're completely honored that their letdown of an only daughter is finally getting married—to a well-known and wealthy shinobi at that. it's the only time they've shown any pride in you, yet it really only leaves a bitter taste in your mouth.

after your brief introduction to the head of tengen's clan, everything moves so quickly. just a couple weeks later, you're already signing a marriage contract in which you and tengen become official newlyweds. and before you know it, you're packing what little belongings you have to your name and moving in with him, begrudgingly and regretfully so.

the day you arrive, he shows you around his overwhelmingly gigantic residence; the courtyard full of cherry blossoms and koi ponds, the huge kitchen, and the bedroom where he'll eventually fully claim you. there's lots of other rooms too, but they're either empty or reserved for his weapons and training gear. he tries to hide it but he's obviously so over the moon that you're his wife now. he doesn't even notice your misery through his elated delusion of love.

in hindsight, you didn't realize how difficult it can be to share a space with someone you hardly know. you find everything awkward but tengen doesn't, like always. to him, you're so obedient and polite— such a good girl. you take whatever he gives you; kisses, hugs, subtle gropes here and there, and all of his sweet compliments and gifts. you don't argue with him or raise your voice, you fret over his injuries and make his favorite foods. you're observant, collected, and mature.

he didn't have a type before he met you—you're all he can ask for in a woman, really.

tengen is unexpectedly romantic. he constantly boasts about his strength and fighting skills in order to impress you, and he never stops mouthing off about how he'll prioritize you over himself. he puts consistent effort in getting to know you: what you like, don't like, your favorite color, and any other inkling of your personality that he can manage to wrestle out of you. he seems to have gotten the impression that you're shy or something.

flowers are a constant and you're spoiled with fancy, expensive kimonos and jewelry. had you married tengen under literally any other circumstance, you'd find his advances on you endearing but, unfortunately, he just comes off as clingy and unbearable. any woman would die to be in your place yet you can't even find it in you to want to be in your own place.

what do you think of him, though? well, he's handsome, you'll give him that. you don't deny the appeal of his good looks and flashy, fitted clothing. he's strong, established, and knows what he wants. despite your obvious distaste towards his gifts and grandiose personality, it's not to say you're ungrateful that the man you're stuck with is exceedingly well-off and capable of protecting you. you can't say he's a bad guy.

however, he's a moron.

he fell for you fast. a couple months have already passed since coming to live in his residence. tengen requests to have picnics whenever you go with him to visit his siblings' graves on his off days. of course you have no reason to refuse; as much as you dislike him, you're not heartless. they're important days, so you swallow your pride and pack a bento spread you know he'll like.

tengen will confide in you about the memories of his late siblings, his parents, and his life before becoming a hashira. it's a depressing and heavy weight to shoulder, but you still play your role of the loving, supportive wife with your lingering touches and comforting words. you use these outings as opportunities to gain his trust by being vulnerable.

except, this time, the effect you seem to have on tengen is magnified to the point of no return.

he pulls you into his lap and you're suddenly flush against his rock hard chest, trapped in a suffocating hug. you don't know what prompted his sudden affection; perhaps it was the warm atmosphere you crafted or the intimacy of the moment, but the way tengen holds you so close is telling. he's about to say something you've been dreading since the day you met him.

"i love you." tengen confesses, nuzzling his face into your neck and sighing as if he'd just released the weight of the world off of his shoulders.

you knew it. it's the first time he's ever said it to you and you'll never forget the wave of nausea that hit you as you glanced up to see him staring back at you expectantly. your heart is pumping out of your chest and your face is flustered—not because you're flattered but because you're ashamed. you feel his hands squeeze your shoulders, almost like a warning, and his grip begins to feel claustrophobic after your prolonged silence.

you have no choice but to reciprocate.

"...I love you too." your voice is quiet, hesitant, and tengen gently teases you about being shy when you refuse to look at him anymore. he's not right but it's true that lying invokes shame.

he almost seems overwhelmed by your response, as if he hadn't just nonverbally threatened it out of you. you don't dare to sneak even a glance at him. he tightens his embrace around you and goes back to burying his face abashedly into your neck, mumbling sweet words against your skin. his body wraps around you like a vice, trapping you in the prison that is his dreadful existence.

you decide, in that very moment, that there was nothing in the world you wanted to do more than run away.

III. A DIRE MISTAKE

one fateful day, you catch wind of the news that tengen is being assigned on a mission quite far away, somewhere down in the southwest.

you're so lucked out that you thought it was a trap at first—a ploy to catch you in your undying desire to leave your husband for good. but when the day of departure arrives and tengen peppers your face with last minute kisses, you know for sure that there's no chance he's caught on to your resentment towards him, nor the plan of escape you've been devising all along.

your eyes are teary when tengen releases you from the last of his spine-crushing hugs and he cooes at your cute crying face. honestly, you're tearing up out of joy because your one and only chance to escape has literally fallen into your lap in a pleated handbasket, but you'll let him believe otherwise. you at least owe him the courtesy.

you already know you don't stand a chance against tengen, at least physically. he can overpower you like nothing and he's so tall that he towers over you, constantly caging you between those muscled arms of his. there's almost nothing you could do against a man like him—well, unless you count poisoning, but you were above murder when it came to getting what you wanted.

as soon as tengen passes through the looming gates of the residence and disappears down the winding road, you scramble to gather a few belongings before making your way out through the back. there's a twinge of fear that grips your gut but you press on, determined to put as much space between you and that wretched place you were expected to call home.

the moment you escaped, you flipped your identity. chopped your hair off, powdered your face in white make-up, and wore headscarves wherever you went. you fled as far as your feet would take you, only stopping to rest in a small village when your aching body could take you no further. you hardly spoke to anyone and left nothing behind that could possibly be traced back to you or be used to pursue you.

it's obvious you can't go back to your parents; they hated you when you lived with them, and they'd hate you more if you returned. they'd sell you out to tengen in two seconds flat, then ruthlessly shame you for running away from a marriage you wanted no part in. the only option left for you is to create a new life for yourself somewhere far, far away.

and that's exactly what you do. you find a little town on the outskirts of the red light district, where business is booming and it's easy to disguise yourself beneath the constant foot traffic. you go undercover as a seamstress, working in a homely tailor shop under the supervision of the owners, who are a kind older couple that are quick to regard of you as one of their own.

time marches on and the jarring memories of tengen do as well. you makes friends with the regulars that come by the store often. you've learned the valuable trade of mending clothing and sewing traditional patterns. you've even developed a crush on one of the men that come by often to repair his work uniform.

your life is finally the way you've always wanted it to be.

meanwhile, tengen copes—barely. days pass. weeks. months. you're still yet to be found, even with the help of all the hashira and the shinobi of his clan. it's as if you disappeared off the face of the planet. he's completely devastated. did you run away because he was gone for so long? were you feeling neglected? did you just want his attention? surely you wouldn't just up and leave when he'd been so loving; he truly couldn't think of anything that would prompt such an extreme reaction.

as expected, he doesn't come up with a justification for your disappearance. how could he? you could be dead by now with the amount of demon uprisings that have been happening lately. or you could even be halfway across the world right now, laughing at how easily you had fooled him. eventually, his sadness melts into anger. you may be gone now, but it won't be for long.

wherever you are, he'll find you.

IV. 'TIL DEATH DO HIM PART

in the following years, tengen's next three wives are chosen specifically by the head of his clan.

and, in the head of the clan's words: "the sound hashira's decision-making must be incredibly poor if he chose a wife who would dare flee from him." the statement only fans the flames of his growing wrath for you.

however, his new wives—suma, makio, and hinatsuru—are all beautiful and talented kunoichi who admire him to their very cores. as ungrateful as it sounds, there isn't a day where tengen wishes one of them were you. they've worked so hard to try and fill the gaping hole in his existence that was left by you, but it hasn't really been working. he needs you.

they're kind, caring, nurturing and most of all, strong. they've trained all their lives to be kunoichi. he knows he shouldn't complain but they just don't cook like you, look like you... aren't you. of course he loves them, but he could never forget the way his heart shattered the day he returned home to find you nowhere in sight. your disappearance left him in utter shambles. did you ever think about that when you left? you're so unbelievably selfish—is that the kind of woman you turned out to be?

his wives constantly question his lovesick behavior. tengen never hides anything from them; in fact, he'll sometimes go on long, borderline maniacal rambles about "the wife who got away." to suma, makio, and hinatsuru, you're an enigma that's broken the heart of their husband, and they're not sure what it was about you that makes him act this way. jealousy sparks—if there's a way to get you back to make tengen happy, they would do it, but maybe you're better off gone after all.

and it's not like tengen didn't search for you. oh no, he looked everywhere within reason. his duties as a hashira kept him chained to his missions near the demon slayers' headquarters, but that never stopped him from interrogating people when he got the chance. any woman that looked even remotely similar to you was sure to be stopped in the middle of the street for further investigation.

master kagaya is exceedingly understanding of the situation, and he bears obvious concern for his beloved sound hashira. while he's sympathetic of the loss of his wife—it's no matter to be taken lightly, of course—tengen must first be loyal to his occupation as a hashira, and that means going on missions in spite of his mourning.

and his newest missions leads him to the red light district.

so tengen goes. he knows his place when it comes to master kagaya, so he has no reason or authority to deny orders. regardless, it's a harrowing and tedious task. drunk concubines practically throw themselves into tengen's arms as he strolls past the many underground sex clubs that line the filthy streets. he has zero interest in any of the debauchery that goes on here, and he especially feels nothing when shoving them away from him with excessive force.

he scours the area for anyplace that looks decent enough to step foot in, as well as a place where he won't get immediately harassed by ran through harlots. turning down a quieter side street where some storefronts have been shuttered, he happens upon a small seamstress shop sandwiched between two restaurants that look as if they've closed early for the evening.

shrugging, tengen wearily thinks it's as good of a place as any to begin his intel gathering on the upper moons' whereabouts. he saunters towards the front entrance and a young woman dressed in traditional geisha wear passes him on the sparsely populated road, her wooden sandals clacking against the ground. he can't help but think her hair looked similar to yours and his heart twists painfully in his chest.

tengen seems to be constantly haunted by the thought of you, forming an obsession in his mind that won't go away until he has you back. until he knows your safe, with him, just like you were meant to be. until he sees you.

no, literally, tengen sees you, right in front of him.

through the window of the upscale seamstress shop, he sees you conversing with a man at the front counter, laughing heartily at a joke he must have made. tengen quickly crouches beneath the display window to spy on you, his heart pounding out of his chest at the events that are currently unfolding. he must be mistaken.

he peeks above the lip of the window to catch a glance and, sure enough, it is you. you're alive and well, almost glowing beneath the low, intimate lighting inside the shop.

he finally found you! he can't believe it. the grin that's stretching across his face is so broad. he'd recognize your face anywhere, even if it's caked in geisha makeup and your hair elaborately styled. you’re beautiful and he’s captivated by your beauty just as he was the day that he met you.

he's so unbelievably ecstatic with the way his hands are clamming up, his feet shuffling in the dirt and...

what?

creeping over the ledge of the display window once again, tengen's eyes immediately grow dark. there's a man there. talking to you. his wife.

in the midst of your conversation, your eyes absently float over to the window. it's there that your gaze clashes with his, and a blood-curdling look of terror overtakes your features. is that… tengen?

there's a shift in the air. what happens next, tengen doesn't recall, but when he comes to there's blood on his hands and your hair is bundled up in his fist as he drags you past the threshold the of the shop’s entrance. he looks over his shoulder and on the floor, spread eagle, lies the man without his head. the scene is gruesome.

he killed him.

tengen looks down at you with a solemn gaze. for some reason, he doesn't even care. the emotions running through him are almost too much to bear. do you know how much your disappearance has destroyed him? do you know how much he's suffered because of you? do you even care?

he doesn't understand why you're crying. it seems like you were happy enough to whore around with other men in his absence. the thought drives him to the brink of insanity. how much longer do you plan on humiliating him?

there's too much to be said. tengen's mouth is agape and he's so upset at you that he can't find the right words to express himself. instead, he collapses to the floor beside you and embraces you in his longing arms. he smells your hair and feels how your body shrinks against his—it's all exactly how it used to be. it's exactly as he remembered, as he dreamed of.

and now, as tengen scoops you up into his arms to take you back home, another dream of his will be fulfilled tonight. he knows exactly what kind of punishment is befit for you.

V. A JUST PUNISHMENT — (NSFW: NON-CON)

"tengen-sama! you're ba-"

a woman with colored bangs and a ponytail attempts to greet tengen as he enters, but she's cut off by not only the expression on his face but also the strange, disheveled woman he's hauling behind him.

he drags you across the cold, laminated wood floors into the bedroom by your hair and peels the delicate, silken layers of your yukata back, exposing soft flesh and ample curves. tengen is so starved of your touch—of your voice, your scent, you. he'll make you pay for what you put him through. he'll make you stay this time.

you can't even fight back. you're so afraid of what's going to happen that your body refuses to move, to speak. and even if you could, there was no way you would win against a hashira, of all people.

tengen starts by pushing you to your knees. when his hands begin the hasty work of undoing the belt of his kimono, you already know where this is going and it makes your stomach churn in volatile sickness. he eagerly slides his under pants down and from the top of its elastic band springs his semi-hard cock, which nearly hits you in the face. you gasp at the sheer size of it; that is not gonna fit inside of you.

"don't look at me like that, [name]. clearly i was too lenient with you back then. i should've disciplined you..." he trails off as he stares into your pleading eyes. he smiles but, in it, is no mercy.

"c'mon, baby. you'll be a good girl and open your mouth for me, won't you?"

you refuse. no, you wouldn't even dream of it. you've never done anything sexual with a man before and you certainly aren't going to wi—

tengen suddenly reaches down and grabs ahold of your now tangled hair with one of his large hands. it takes barely any pressure before your mouth is pried open by the force of his fingers alone, and his now engorged cock head is being stuffed into your warm, unyielding mouth.

you can only let out a choked cry at the vile intrusion.

"that's it, baby, good girl.." he praises, stroking your head with his thumb as he slowly inches his pulsing cock down your throat.

your screams are completely muffled. tengen begins to pick up the pace, letting your drool be the lubricant that allows his giant dick to slide in and out of your tight throat. it hurts so bad that you try to bite down and free yourself from this act of vulgarity, but tengen doesn't allow it. he instead tugs your head back by the grip he has on your hair, forces his cock all the way in, and holds you there until you decide to behave yourself.

you can hardly breath. lewd, wet noises fill the room as tengen gags you almost to the point of unconsciousness. the vibrations from your screaming must have been making him feel good, though, because it takes just a few minutes before he's shuddering in orgasm as he bottoms out and cums, which you have no choice but to swallow.

he pulls out of your mouth and you're mortified, but even more so when you see how he's still hard. his cock is covered in a thick layer of your saliva and his cum drips onto your exposed chest in globs that make you cringe in disgust. you think you're going to throw up.

and you almost do, if it weren't for tengen picking you up from under your arms and tossing you onto the plush bedding. your legs are forced open and tengen slides his twitching cock against your pussy, slowly and teasingly. you begin to fight against him but he easily pins you down long enough to push his fat cock head into your tight pussy.

tengen pounds you into the plush cushion of the futon all night long. you've given up struggling and crying, only mewling in pain as the brutish man stretches your virgin pussy wide. he ruthlessly kneads your breasts with his calloused palms and overstimulates your clit with his fingers until you cream and squirt repeatedly all over his dick. you can do nothing but lay there as he roughly moves your body into various positions and fills your womb with his seed—there's no way you won't be pregnant after this.

all the pent up rage that tengen was forced to weather after your disappearance is released in that very room. he sounds like a crazy man with the way he lapses in and out of fits of rage where he's cursing at you with his hands around your throat, then slipping into pleasure induced "i love you's" as he dumps yet another load of cum deep inside of you.

"h-how does it feel, my love?" he groans, reaching over to caress your flushed face. "mm, you sound so cute making those noises. lemme hear you scream, darling."

and oh, you sure do scream. for him to stop, to get off of you. that you've had enough. that you hate him. over and over again you scream, you cry, and you struggle, but it does you no good. he only seems to thrust faster the more you beg. is he getting off to your desperation? he must be by the way his cock pulses at any form of physical resistance from you.

you thought it would never end. he's almost insatiable. your tears have long dried up—for the most part, anyway—but the skin on your face feels raw from tengen "lovingly" wiping all your tears and snot away while simultaneously pounding a you-shaped hole into the futon. you feel disgusting. you don't even have the strength to make a sound when he spanks you for the hundredth time, moaning heatedly about how you've been such a bad, bad girl.

when it seems like he's finally spent, he doesn't pull out. instead, he collapses on top of you with his cock still twitching inside your sloppy, ruined cunt while drawing you in for an unreciprocated kiss. he whispers praises in your ear and gently strokes your face, cooing at how much you're trembling against his much larger form.

"i should've done this a long time ago. maybe you wouldn't have left if i dumped my kids into you sooner."

eventually, his softened cock slips out of you and a gush of warmth runs down your legs; you can already feel a soreness settling in your pelvis. tengen sighs contentedly at the sopping squelch that sounds when you snap your legs shut in order to roll as far away from him as possible. he roughly wraps a muscled arm around your waist and pulls you back towards him as soon as he sees your attempt to create distance.

"i missed you so much, darling," tengen mumbles against your skin breathily, offering a soft smile. "did you enjoy your welcome back?"

he's making fun of you. you refuse to even look at him. it's to be expected, really, he can't imagine how bad it must feel to think you actually got away from him as you lay in his arms once again, right where you belong. you need to learn your place; no wife of his will disrespect him like you did ever again. if you have to be an example of that, then so be it—youput this on yourself, after all.

leaving you with a final kiss, he gets up, wraps a towel around his waist, and goes to let his other wives into the room to help clean you up (they've been waiting patiently ever since you showed up, curious about the woman who supposedly "stole tengen's heart," as he put it). you're still naked and exposed with tengen's cum leaking down your thighs but you don't even have the mental capacity to care anymore. all three of the girls look shocked at the state you're in, but they don't comment and rush to get you in the bath.

they're all very pretty, of course. when you emerge from your haze of disorientation, you're left reeling at the fact that tengen had amassed three whole wives in light of your absence. well, not that you have any right to be surprised considering your short lived emotional affair. you're still in mourning over what had happened to him.

regardless of your fragile state, the three women swarm you with questions that prod at your past: who you are, where you're from, and how you met tengen. you don't even have half the mind to reply. you can only stare at your tear-stricken reflection in the soapy water, ready to burst into tears yet again at the horrible predicament you've found yourself in.

what can you do now? sit around and get bred by tengen? rot away in this dreadful house for the rest of your life? the other wives seem to catch onto your unresponsiveness after a couple dozen of their questions go ignored, so they sit quietly and gently wash you clean. they look genuinely worried for you—not that their pity will undo the damage that's already been done.

makio will scrub your back and grumble about how jealous she is while suma and hinatsuru fret over the small bruises that are now beginning to form around your hips from tengen's manhandling. suma washes your hair next, commenting on how beautiful it is, while the other two move onto rinsing the soap from your body. they wrap you up in a fluffy towel when it's over, and a shiver wracks your spine when their hands guide you to another room, down the hall, with a clean bed ready for you to rest in.

you don't really know who they are but since they're dressed like kunoichi, it's obvious that they don't share the same mindset you do, or were forced to be wed to tengen like you were. you can't ask them to help you escape from this hell, not a chance.

even as you lay in the criminally comfortable futon with new silken pajamas, a cup of cold water at your side, and a warm blanket, sleep doesn't find you.

and with tengen around, you're certain it never will.

VI. A HAPPY EVER AFTER (EXTRA)

a few months later, your pregnancy symptoms are in full swing.

tengen is as protective as ever and the other wives have already grown attached to you despite your bitter and unforgiving attitude towards them. you learn quickly that they're all very... obsessive, constantly hovering over you and going to overbearing extremes to make sure you don't do anything that would physically strain yourself in any way.

hinatsuru and makio follow at your heels like guard dogs while suma takes charge of most of the cooking and cleaning. she keeps the peace most of the time and holds makio back when she's attempting to murder hinatsuru over something childish. you're never in the mood to talk to them, however, and they often try to bribe you with your favorite sweets (which is intel that they've gathered from tengen) in order to get you to participate in their activities.

unluckily for you, tengen had decided to completely retire from being a hashira following a particularily harrowing encounter with an upper moon demon (even after you tried to subtly guilt trip him into not doing so). he insisted that you and the baby were "more important." you know that it'd be difficult to escape with the other wives around but to add tengen on top of that makes it surely impossible.

every morning, the dreadful man himself meets the four of you in the kitchen and will beam proudly at the sight of his adorable little harem. he goes down the line and gives affection to each of his wives individually, in the way they prefer, and saves you for last as you're his "greatest prize," or whatever he said. you're just completely exhausted and you resent them all from the deepest depths of your heart. the least you can do is make it obvious.

tengen finds your rebellion adorable. everything about you is and even moreso now than when you left him all those years ago. he'll grab you by the jaw and force you into a quick one-sided kiss, pulling away with that fond smile of his. his fingers ghost over your swelling tummy but his very touch makes you feel so awfully sick. you'll roughly push him away and he's so out of his mind that he attributes your justified anger and moodiness to your "pregnancy hormones." regardless, he's happy. it's you who's going to bear his child. it's you who first said you loved him too. as long as you live, you're bound to him as his wife. nothing can come between a man and the woman he loves; uzui tengen certainly made sure of that, didn't he?

#yandere x reader #yandere #yandere tengen x reader #yandere uzui tengen #yandere kny #demon slayer x reader #kimetsu no yaiba #yandere demon slayer x reader #yandere male #uzui tengen

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alicerosejensen · 1 year

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Idk if you’re taking requests but what about RE6 onwards Leon with reader who is much younger (early twenties)? I think it would be sooo cute

If someone has requests, then I accept everything! I have practically no topics that trigger me, so if someone wants to see some headcanon, then I will gladly try to fulfill his desire)

To be honest, Leon was 36 years old at the time of re6, and if the reader is twenty… for me, 16 years is a small age difference because I literally know a couple with many children, who have an age difference of a little more than twenty years, and they live together perfectly. it makes me believe in love.

There comes a moment when, probably, it was worth realizing that the woman who was being chased for more than twenty years was just a love interest and beckoned only with her mystery and flirtation.

It's unpleasant, but Leon came to this conclusion almost immediately after Lanshiang. The last night with Ada put all the dots in their strange relationship.

It was as if Leon had received a sobering slap in the face that brought him back from heaven to earth. On the other hand, Ada will forever remain a part of the history of his life, but not of the future, but only of the past.

Some part of him wanted to take care of someone close, despite all the fear and risks. Every living being wants to love and be loved in return.

But Leon was still afraid to take risks, however, he was not averse to having lunch with a beautiful girl who did not refuse a free dinner.

At some point, a free dinner for you and a quiet conversation with a person, not a zombie for him, turned into a series of pleasant dates and gifts in the form of fruit baskets to your rented apartment.

You liked Leon, but you understood that he was…a little older than you… Actually, for as many as 15-16 years, but he definitely wasn't fit to be a father yet. The actual question was, what did he want from you?

Does he just want to have sex with a young girl? Well, then you let him know that this number will not work with you.

You already want to close the door in his face before he suggests the usual walks. Just talking. Without dirty hints or suggestions from which you could slap him a ringing slap in the face.

He is glad that for some reason you agreed (because you found him interesting yourself), and conversations with you bring him to his senses, making him believe that there is still something to fight for in this world.

Previously, your meetings were held in crowded places, but after a couple of months you ventured to invite him to your place and treated him to lunch. "It's not Italian pasta from a professional chef, but I hope you don't die of poisoning". Leon laughs, encouraging you that your food is more edible than what he can cook.

More and more Leon finds himself fascinated by you as a person. He likes to listen to how your day went, to see your smile, something blooms in him when you are next to him.

You really look like an angel sent to him by heaven. He does not believe in God, but it seems to him that a real blessing is in front of him.

Leon will take the initiative of the first kiss when he realizes that he is in love. This is the first time he's worried about your age difference even though he hopes you won't push him away.

He's a broken man. Therefore, when you reciprocate him, something inside him clicks, triggering like a switch. Leon will wrap his hands around your face, deepening the kiss, but will not go further if you are not ready for more intimacy yet.

He thinks you're too perfect.

He likes to give you sudden compliments and watch you blush. I think he will specifically shower you with various pleasant epithets so that you are embarrassed.

The tone of his voice is always filled with love. Leon likes to hug you from behind when you're cooking or doing something. However, he completely goes crazy when you start taking the initiative and, for example, hugging him. Then don't even hope to escape from his strong arms. "You wanted hugs yourself, but I refuse to let you out of them".

He seriously won't let you out. Instead, he will kiss the top of your head and stroke your back, holding you tightly to him, as if afraid that you will be taken away.

"You mean a lot to me." - The thumb strokes the skin of the cheek. - Tell me if you don't want any serious relationship. I'm often away from home, I'm much older than you…damn it, the last reason should be more than enough for me to leave you and my fucking feelings. I don't want to force you into anything, so if you're not sure or don't want to, then I'll understand everything.

You cover his lips with an uncertain kiss, hoping that such an answer will suit him. Pulling away just to press against his forehead while your warm palms hold his face.

This answer will suit him perfectly.

Leon's defender mode is clearly activated.

At first, he will come to your house to have dinner and spend time in your company, but he will constantly comment that there is barely enough space in this "cardboard box" for one person, let alone two.

A subtle hint that his girlfriend moved in with him.

He will help you move all your things. In fact, despite the vastness of his apartment, Leon admits that it is too empty, but hopes that you will fill the space. In truth, he wants it himself. Now he had a good reason to come home as soon as possible.

When you're not too busy, he'll distract you from your studies.

You can tell Leon a hundred times that you love him, but everything you do for him (even if it's insignificant little things for you) makes him love you much more. However, what he definitely doesn't want is for you to see him in a broken state.

Leon hates thunder and lightning. It reminds him of a traumatic childhood, pulls out the memory of Raccoon City, so he will leave the warm bed so as not to wake you up and go to the kitchen trying to overcome another nightmare.

The last thing he wants is someone to comfort him. He couldn't save a lot of people, he lost someone all the time and still can't forgive himself for the death of the president. You are his sun, while he is just a shadow. Leon is not going to pour out all the shit that happened to him on you, but you are just a real blessing that takes away his pain when you press your chest against his broad back, kissing the skin covered with goosebumps.

Are you so worried about his condition? Leon would prefer not to bother you, but the way you take a glass of whiskey from his hands, sit next to him on the bar stool, remove the bangs from his face to see how broken he is.

Tears are not weakness! You cover Leon's face with a lot of gentle kisses, hugging him to you, whispering various endearments in his ear. "If you need my support, then you will get it"

Taking care of him does something to his heart, but it's not something terrible. On the contrary, Leon wants to return this love to you in double size, so be prepared for manifestations of tenderness. What is completely normal and natural for you, for Leon is very expensive. In addition, you are the first woman in a very long time who stays with him in bed after sex, and in the morning cooks him breakfast, because Ada never stayed with him for more than one night.

And he is grateful to you.

"Will you stay with me?" - A request that sounds almost like a mantra when he sits you down on the table, hugging you under the hips. - "I know I'm old for you, but I want you to be mine. Tell me you want it to… Because if you want to leave later, I won't be able to let you go."

Now you are in the same boat with him, but we must admit that if this boat sinks, he will do everything to pull you ashore. Understand how you want. If earlier he could still agree to a meeting with Ada while your relationship was in limbo, now he belongs entirely to you in body and soul. Leon knows that you are too young, but he hopes and trusts that your fellow students will not become your love interest. You promised him.

He likes to give you gifts, but what he doesn't expect is that you will give him a wristwatch.

"Just a sign of attention. I thought you might like it, but you don't have to wear them if they're not your type".

Your gift is now always on his right hand.

Well, after a long relationship, he decides to put a ring on you and hopes that you will say yes. This is a risk he is willing to take, promising himself that he will protect you in case of danger.

#leon kennedy #leon scott kennedy #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy #leon x reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #resident evil #resident evil x reader #reader #leon scott kennedy x reader #leon x you #leon x y/n #leon kennedy x y/n

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loonylooly · 8 months

Text

at this point i'm wondering what sarah is thinking when writing her love interests, like ok it's clear she finds them hot but like....are they good people

Rhys:

UTM lap dance shenanigans

throwing Feyre into danger constantly (Weaver, destroying cauldron, getting the book from Adriata, etc etc)

Still not doing jack shit about wing clippings in Illyria?? Emerie is right there, Rhysand, go enforce your damn laws

Insulting his wife's sister constantly

Almost killed his wife's sister cause she dared give her important medical information

Locked Lucien (MY BOY!!) in the house of wind

Locked Nesta in the house of wind

Didn't give Mor any warning that time he made her face her abusers and she cried i think (ngl i forgot most of it)

Ignoring Hewn City even tho...Kier is like the only bad guy we've seen from there?? Surely there's decent people in Hewn City, don't gotta make everyone suffer

Nesta windhaven kidnapping intervention so she stops spending Rhys' money (if it was really about her own sake, they would've put a stop to it much earlier)

Seemingly alienates everyone in Feyre's life that could and would stand up to Rhys for Feyre's sake. Lucien? Nah, shoo. Nesta? Nah, shoo. Weird thought but Tarquin? Yeah, makes her steal his book.

And last but DEFINITELY not least; demon baby wife death

HE COULD'VE TOLD FEYRE... OR ATLEAST NOT THREATENED TO KILL HER SISTER FOR TELLING HER WHEN HE HOULD'VE TOLD HER IN THE FIRST PLACE??

THERE'S PROBABLY MORE BUT MOVING ON

Cassian:

Barely ever stands up for Nesta in the IC

Aids in kidnapping Nesta to Windhaven so she stops spending whysand's money

Laughs at Nesta when she falls down the stairs

Aids in punishing Nesta for daring to tell Feyre important medical info

Constantly going agaisnt Nesta's wishes and trying to "save her" when she doesn't want him to

That one time Azriel asked Nesta if Cass had pushed her down the stairs...Like are we gonna ignore that?? Personally I'd have a quarter life crisis if my closest friend, who is like my sibling and has known me most of our lives, seriously entertained the idea that i would physically assault the girl I like

general aggressiveness all of ACOSF

aids in bulldozing Nesta's apartment

Rowan goddamn Whitehorn (Who I've yet to see people bashing him somehow,,, HoF rowan was like if ACOSF cassian had a horrific murder baby

Left his pregnant mate alone during a war cause he wanted to prove himself....like..idk man if i had the choice between war and taking care of my pregnant wife i'd pick the wife (did he know she was pregnant? i've kind of forgotten by now)

Rowan's kid would've been hundreds of years older than Aelin.....just think abt that

Literally everything he did to Aelin during training in HoF

Their argument where he PUNCHED HER IN THE FACE

Threatened to whip Aelin...I repeat....Threatened to whip Aelin, an ex-slave....

Told Aelin it'd be better if she died 10 years ago (unprovoked?? bitch you met her like 2 weeks ago just cause she's getting on your nerves doesn't mean you gotta wish DEATH upon her)

Literally was relieved to find out she was only 19 because if she was a few years older she could've been THE CHILD OF HIS BEST FRIEND.

No issue with marrying the cousin of his best friend's child....Imagine if he hadn't met Aelin first.. If he'd met Aedion first, Aelin would've always been the relative of his friend's son to him

FOR THE RECORD i hate all of the SJM age gaps but rowan and aelin's specifically irks me because Aelin LITERALLY CALLS HIM OLD throughout the WHOLE SERIES

Literally tells Aelin he doesn't care about what she's been through and that she is nothing to him after she confronts him for leaving her

Puts Luca in danger by sticking him on to a frozen lake with a monster inside where he'll DIE if Aelin can't save him

Funnily enough, some of the only seemingly decent person guys in SJM 1. Are completely forgotten about in the books or 2. SJM had to make them violently unlikeable

Like we've got:

Tarquin, seemed like a pretty good guy, rightfully pissed that the IC stole his family heirloom, shows up like twice in the books (LET HIM COME BACK SARAH I LOVE HIM)

Tamlin, was pretty decent in book 1, was made violently unlikeable in book 2 onwards

Chaol, very strong morals, generally a good person, loves his wife, made violently unlikeable and boring in late CoM, HoF, and QoS (ToD is one of my favorite books in the series, will praise ToD till the day I die, my boy EARNED his own book)

Aedion, seemed like a good person, strong morals, spent years trading his dignity for the sake of Terrasen, loved his cousin above all else, made violently unlikable in KoA (even tho I think he was justified in being angry about it, i'd be SO pissed)

Sartaq, good guy, strong morals, Nesryn's chapters were some of my favorites in ToD, Sartaq is one of my favorite SJM love interests, i'll never forgive author lady for forgetting about him in KoA (tho i guess she forgot about everyone from ToD? Yrene and Chaol are the only important ones, she barely even mentions Nesryn even though Nesryn's BEEN an integral part of the gang since QoS, giving her the Suki from ATLA treatment)

#acotar #sjm #sarah j maas #throne of glass #tog #anti rhysand #anti rowan #anti cassian #anti nessian #anti feysand #chaol westfall #sartaq #tarquin #tamlin #aedion ashryver #nesta deserves better

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katnissdoesnotfollowback · 5 months

Note

If the muse should so cooperate- I would love to see the reaction at Skadi after Katniss made her reservation to go for a visit. Did Gramps know right off it was her? Did Haymitch give the heads up? Did Gramps know and wait to tell Peeta? How did that conversation unfold? POV doesn’t matter to me.

Soooooo this has been sitting in my inbox for literal years. Sorry about that. And while I am still focusing on Spellbound for now, it doesn't hurt to exercise the Outside Chance muscles every so often to keep that universe fresh in my mind. Especially since the Outside Chance universe is up next on the To Do list once I finish Spellbound.

Some fun, from a different POV than what I usually give you all. It worked a little better coming from Monique, since she works the front desk at Skadi and would have a front row seat to the entire thing unfolding. The only thing it doesn't directly answer is whether or not Haymitch gave Eirik a heads up (he did), but it is implied here. Hope you enjoy! And now back to work on Spellbound.

I need a break. It’s been insane since I sat down at the desk. And I use the phrase “sat down at” in a metaphorical sense. I’ve been standing the whole time. Moving between the front desk and the office behind the desk where we store all our random shit we need throughout the day to take care of our guests. We’re just on the downslope of the season, and a quick glance at our weather forecasts has me smiling at the guest I’m helping and answering their question.

“Weather service is predicting another eight inches at least from this storm that’s moving through in two or three days,” I tell him and he taps his Epic Pass on the desk with a wide grin.

“Awesome. Might trap me here for a few more days. Any chance I can go ahead and extend my room?”

“Mmm, that might be difficult. We’re pretty well booked for the rest of this week and next week, too. But I can check for you. Stop by after you’re done skiing and ask me then?” I suggest.

He nods and walks off. I can feel my customer service smile slipping, but a genuine one takes its place as my boss steps up to the counter, leaning heavily on it, taking his weight off his cane as he gives me a bright smile in return.

“Hey Mr. Tjalaand, how’s it going?” I ask in a sing-songy voice and he chuckles.

“Not bad, Monique. Any word on our high profile guest?”

“Uh-uh. Haven’t seen her name on any of the guest lists, and I’ve been checking every chance I get,” I tell him. Just to be sure, I type in the names again, in two separate searches, just to be safe.

Katniss -- nope.

Everdeen -- nada.

“She’s not here. If she’s coming tomorrow, she’s gonna have a hard time finding a room,” I say and Mr. Tjalaand mutters under his breath, but then his eyes light up.

“Perhaps she has registered under a fake name,” he says, and I nod.

“It’s possible, but she could’ve used anything.”

“You can search guests based on their address, yes?”

“Sure,” I say brightly. “Where’s Ms. High Profile coming from?”

“Colorado Springs,” he says, which gives me a moment’s pause. We don’t get many guests from C. Springs. They’ve got their own skiing all around them in Colorado. Only the die-hard skiers from C. Springs or the ones who want slightly wilder slopes come here. Still, I type it in my search and come back with two hits.

“I’ve got a Mike Norbert and a Kay Brookes from Colorado Springs checking in tomorrow.”

“Kay… clever girl,” he murmurs. I smile over his shoulder as his grandson, who I like to think of as my other boss, even if he doesn’t officially have the title yet, approaches. We all know it’s coming one day. But Mr. Tjalaand hasn’t seen Peeta yet and continues talking to himself. “Using their names. As if we wouldn’t notice.”

“What wouldn’t we notice?” Peeta asks and Mr. Tjalaand jumps, cries out, clearly startled.

“What?” he asks Peeta once he’s gotten ahold of himself.

“We’ve got a guest coming tomorrow, using a fake name so we don’t know it’s them. Some big name athlete,” I whisper conspiratorially. Peeta smiles slightly and turns to his grandfather.

“Seriously? Ryen’s dumb enough to try a fake name?”

“Er… not Ryen,” Mr. Tjalaand says, then does that thing they always do. He switches to Norwegian, so that no one else can understand what they’re saying. Joke’s on them. I’ve been learning Norwegian. Not enough to be fluent, or proficient. Or to even catch full sentences with the rapid pace Mr. Tjalaand is speaking, but I can read Peeta’s face.

And he’s. Not. Happy.

Mr. Tjalaand actually shrinks away from him a little bit as he gestures wildly and continues to explain to Peeta. I catch something about training and home and upset. Maybe a name I file away. Haymitch. The word tomorrow.

Peeta starts shaking his head. And although he’s whispering, there’s no disguising the hurt and anger in his voice when he cuts his grandfather off and asks, “Why didn’t you tell me?” At least I think that’s what he says. Mr. Tjalaand fires back. It’s settled blah blah blah blah I suggest blah blah blah something about one of our trails.

When it’s over, Eirik looks smug and Peeta walks off before I can even ask if he’s okay. What a dumb question. Of course he’s not okay. It’s written all over his face and his body language that he’s not okay. But why’s this guest set him off so much?

Mr. Tjalaand sighs as he turns back to me and gives me a small smile. “I apologize for my grandson.”

“Is he gonna be okay?” I ask and Eirik waves off the concern.

“He will need to be. I will not tolerate his moping about this any longer.”

I don’t wanna say it, but I kinda agree with my boss. Much as I love working for them both, much as I consider Peeta a good friend, he can be moody and mopey sometimes. Not that he doesn’t have reason and all, but sometimes I just wanna slap him for his dumb decisions.

“You will tell me the moment our guest checks in tomorrow?”

“If I’m on shift, you’ll be the first to know.”

“Good,” he says with a firm nod. “Thank you, Monique.”

“Sure thing, boss,” I say and give him a playful salute as he walks off. I wait until he’s out of sight before I turn to my coworker. “You got this, Haydn?”

“Yeah. Seems to have calmed down for a moment.”

“I’m going to Rooba’s. You want me to get anything for you?”

“Red Bull and one of those caesar chicken wraps.”

“You got it,” I tell her as I slip out from behind the desk and basically jog to Rooba’s Lobby Stop. I skid to a halt next to her and she smiles at me.

“Where’s the fire?”

“Okay. So. I need to know what kind of serious shit is about to go down in this place so I’m ready to handle it.”

“Uh-huh,” Rooba says but continues to stock her shelves, replenishing after the mid afternoon rush. “I’m listening.”

Of course she is. Rooba’s a gossip hound. “Two days ago, Eirik came to me and said we’d be having a high profile visitor arrive in three days, which is, you know… tomorrow. Some Olympic athlete I’d never heard of, but anyways. He says he wants to know the second she books her room.”

“Interesting,” Rooba prompts me to keep going.

“Well today, she still hadn’t shown up on the guest lists. So he asks me to search by where she’s coming from, and turns out she’s registered under a fake name, or at least he’s pretty sure she is. So he’s figuring this all out and Peeta walks up--”

“Uh-huh,” Rooba murmurs, her eyes bright as she hones in on what I know she can tell is the juicy part.

“-- and they start talking in Norwegian, as they do.”

“You catch any of it?”

“Some. Not enough. All I know is Peeta is not happy about this person coming here, but Eirik is tickled pink about it, so I need to know who this is and why she’s already causing problems in my lobby.”

Rooba snorts. “What’s the name, girl?”

“Right, sorry,” I say. “Katniss Everdeen?”

“Kat--” Rooba gasps and drops the pile of chips she was holding. “Oh shit.”

I glance down at the mess with her, then back up at her face. Her eyes and mouth are wide for an instant, but then her lip trembles and her eyes go a little glassy. “Katniss is coming home tomorrow?”

“Coming home?” I ask, but Rooba has moved on. She’s frantically scooping up the dropped chips and I kneel down to help her.

“So you know that name.”

“Oh my -- oh no wonder Peeta was so upset. My poor boy, finding out like that.”

And it’s those words that make it click in my mind as we stand up with the chips in our hands. “Don’t tell me she’s that girl. The one with him in all the pictures on The Wall that no one will talk about like she’s a curse?”

Rooba scowls at me and snatches the chips from my hand. “Katniss is not a curse. She’s… oh my poor girl must be hurting so bad if she’s coming home after all these years.”

I can feel my eyebrows raise at that. I watch Rooba stock the chips as I grab Haydn’s lunch, and something for myself.

“Coming home tomorrow. I don’t even have any Milk Duds or that strawberry lemonade thing she always drank, or her favorite tea,” she’s muttering as I approach the register. “Too late to have them here by tomorrow. I’ll just have to add them to the order for next week. If she’s even staying that long…”

I clear my throat while she rings me up. “I don’t think she wants a fuss being made over her,” I point out and Rooba glares at me. “I’m just saying, she registered under a fake name. Sounds like she doesn’t want to be noticed while she’s here.”

Rooba snorts. “Fat chance. That girl could bury herself under thirty feet of snow and she’d still be noticed.”

I don’t know what to make of that, but Rooba sighs and rings up my purchase, still grumbling.

“Our baby girl comes home after ten years and Eirik can’t even tell us? I can’t even welcome her home? What a crock of shit.” She holds out my sack as I swipe my card, but she pulls it back when I reach for my purchase. “What name did she use? The fake one.”

“Kay Brookes,” I tell her and she gasps again. “Okay you gotta explain why that’s significant. And why I shouldn’t skewer this girl on sight. We all know Peeta’s carrying all kinds of baggage over her. No one will talk about her.”

Rooba shuts her eyes and sighs.

“That name… it’s proof she’s still carrying just as much baggage as he is,” Rooba murmurs. I’m about fed up when she releases a heavy breath and gives me answers. “They fell off a cliff together, when they were fifteen. They were… they were best friends. Inseparable. Maybe more, I don’t know for sure, but there were rumors at the time about them kissing behind a maintenance shed one day.”

All right, sue me. I’m a sap. My heart twinges at the image of young, first love blossoming from a childhood friendship as Rooba talks. “They went for a hike and there was a rockslide. Katniss called 9-1-1. By the time anyone could get to them, it was too late to save Peeta’s leg, but Katniss had saved his life. And then… her parents… Sage Kay Everdeen. Lily Brookes Everdeen… they both died two days later. Hit by a drunk driver.”

“Damn,” I whisper and Rooba nods, handing me the sack of food at last.

“The custody battle afterwards, as far as I heard, wasn’t pretty. But it was fast. Either way, Katniss and her sister were gone before Peeta even got back from the hospital. Neither one of them’s been back in ten years.”

And while I still feel like I wanna skewer this Katniss for hurting Peeta, Rooba’s words have me feeling at least a little sorry for her, this strange girl who once called Skadi home. Losing her parents after such a traumatic event with her best friend, then being torn away from her home.

“You’ll text me tomorrow, when she checks in?” Rooba asks, pulling us out of the reverie of the past and I nod.

“Sure. Anyone else I should give a head’s up about this? So they’re not shocked and can keep it quiet when they see her roaming around?”

Rooba nods. “Thom. He needs to know. Freddy on ski patrol. June Carter…” Rooba starts listing names almost faster than I can add them into a new text thread on my phone. They're almost all people we affectionately refer to as The Old Guard, because they've been at Skadi for ages.

“Anyone else?” I ask when she pauses. She shakes her head. “That’s all I can think of for now.”

I type out a message, telling them who’s arriving tomorrow and that we’re to keep it low key, since she’s using a fake name and clearly doesn’t want a fuss, but I thought they might wanna know so they don’t get a shock seeing her around. I add Rooba to the thread and send it, releasing a breath and telling Rooba I’ll talk to her later.

My phone blows up on my way back to the front desk.

WTF?!?!? Katniss???

Are you for real?

Katniss is coming home???? 😄😮😭

!!!!!!!!

Does Peeta know?

How long’s it been?

Ten years

10 years

Shit

Does Peeta know?!??!?!

Someone’s gotta tell Peeta!

He knows.

Thank fuck.

Well this won’t be awkward at all.

It keeps going and I silence the thread, handing lunch to Haydn and getting back to work. I’ll check the gossip chain when my shift is over. One thing I do manage while I’m still at the desk is something I probably should’ve done days ago. A quick Google search for one Katniss Everdeen. There isn’t much, and all of it is sports related. Not even a social media footprint. But at least now I’ve got an idea of her face so I can be on the lookout for her tomorrow.

It’s another crazy day and I stay past the end of my shift to help out. And also because the mysterious Katniss Everdeen still hasn’t shown, but given all that Peeta and Mr. Tjalaand have done for me, I feel like I somehow owe them both at least this. Taking care of this particular guest and giving them both warning of her arrival. My phone keeps vibrating with the group text thread, everyone checking in periodically to see if anyone’s spotted her yet. I snort as I glance at the top, where someone changed the thread name to Operation Hummingbird. When I asked about that, all I got back was:

It’s her nickname.

I’m running on coffee and stress, and about ready to call it a day when someone steps up to the desk, the hood of her ski jacket pulled up over her head. She leans over the desk, like she’s trying not to be noticed and extends her arm with a credit card in her hand.

“Checking in, Kay Brookes,” she says and my pulse stutters for a moment. Her voice is low and smoky, and so unique. From under her hood, I catch a quick flash of light eyes before she drops her gaze to the desk.

And I understand what Rooba meant about her being noticed. I can’t look away from her. There’s something enigmatic about her, or maybe that’s just because I know something of her story and am thirsty for more of it.

But I didn’t get this vibe from her pictures online.

I manage my customer service smile, and go through the motions of checking her in, glancing over her shoulder at the pile of bags and skis in cases.

“I’ll have one of the bellhops help you to your cabin.”

“That won’t be necessary.”

“Oh please, do me this favor. James is new and needs all the training he can get,” I say. Her lips twitch at that, but she nods and looks up at me again. Gray eyes. And even though I’ve certainly championed Peeta getting with other people -- namely my friend, Peyton Lang, last season -- I can see why this is the girl he’s never really let go.

“Alright. I could probably use the help,” she says.

I hand her the envelope with room keys, wifi instructions, and lift pass, call James to the desk, and give her a wide smile.

“Welcome to Skadi, Miss Brookes. Enjoy your stay with us.” She hesitates and looks back at me a moment, then gathers her things with James and heads outside.

I release a breath and feel my shoulders sagging. There’s something just so sad hanging around her, that I think about what Rooba said yesterday. That Katniss is carrying as much baggage as Peeta. I’m starting to believe it.

With that in mind, I notify Mr. Tjalaand, and then I notify the Operation Hummingbird thread. From him, I get a simple Thank you. From them, I get a flurry of texts. Most of them are just thumbs up and thanks, but a few catch my attention.

Think she’ll actually talk to him?

Resort isn’t that big.

Nope. She knows this place too well. Knows where to hide. We’re not seeing her again.

He knows the place better.

Come on, guys. Give them time.

Time? They’ve had ten years.👏👏👏

Part of me wants her to seek him out. Get it over with. Let them hash out whatever it is they’ve gotta deal with. Part of me thinks we haven’t had a good mountainside drama in awhile and this’ll probably be drawn out and spectacular.

I just want them to bang already!

Slow down. They haven’t seen each other in ten years.

Fine. I’ll settle for a kiss.

Seriously? They might not even like each other anymore.

Anyone got eyes on him?

He’s up on the slopes.

Monique, can you let him know?

Or should one of us?

I’ll let him know.

I sigh and open up my text thread with Peeta. It’s been a few days since we’ve used it and the last thing on it is a laughing emoji he sent me in response to something funny I shared about a guest. I hesitate, not wanting to hurt him anymore than he might already be. But then I think of his face yesterday, his anger that his grandfather didn’t even tell him that such a significant part of his past would be walking back into Skadi. If it were me, I'd want to know. I think about the pictures on The Wall, the ones I walked by last night, just to see a glimpse of what he lost ten years ago.

They were adorable together.

I think of the way Rooba talked about them yesterday when I first told her. How the group talked about them in the thread all day yesterday. And I am again reminded of what a sap I am.

“Screw it,” I mutter and tap out a text to Peeta. I’m with June on this one. “I want them to bang.”

Lord knows he needs it. She probably does too, based on the looks of things.

Hey, boss. Just wanted you to know that the guest your grandfather was asking me about yesterday has checked in. Cabin 24.

Thanks for the warning, Mo

I pause and grin, deciding a little pot stirring wouldn’t hurt.

She’s stunning, by the way. And you could stand to get laid. Been awhile, hasn’t it?

I could say the same to you. Maybe you should sleep with her.

Not my type. You know I like a himbo.

Noted.

But you…. Has it been since Peyton? Maybe since Thresh?

You’re as bad as Rooba.

What did Rooba say?

Nothing. She put a package of condoms I didn’t ask for in the bag with my lunch today.

😝😂

Not funny.

Only it’s totally funny, and maybe exactly what he needs. I let Rooba know to keep it up.

<3 kdnfb

#spoonlicker817 #look at that ask #outside chance universe #outside chance outtake #sort of?#i used to have a name and numbering system for these #but I can't remember what number I left off on #or when i posted it #and i don't feel like digging through my archives #so here you go

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dragoncookies · 6 months

Text

Sophie is Fitz's "lacy"

Think about it! As of late in the series Shannon brings to jarring light, in the cognate inquisition scene, the jealousy Fitz has of Sophie and how Fitz puts her on a pedestal. So, all at the same time, he views her as perfect, is jealous of her capabilities and has feelings for her. I can't help but hear that phenomenon when I listen to Lacy. The lyrics in Lacy are also just so juicy and fun to analyze.

Full lyrical analysis below the cut (it's a lot, but I love doing this sort of thing)

Lacy, oh lacy, skin like puff pastry.

Aren’t you the sweetest thing on this side of hell?

Dear angel lacy, eyes wide as Daisy’s,

Did I ever tell you that I’m not doing well?

(this is the longest paragraph, I promise)

The first lyrics here set up the whole song by characterizing the subject of the song. The emphasis on calling lacy “sweet” and an angel is the narrator criticizing this person for the fact that they can never seem to be wrong, and that they just seem like an angel who always has the best intentions. Of course, these lyrics are also just literally calling the person sweet and caring in nature (most of this song has lyrics that have double meanings, which is why this song fits Fitz’s feelings about Sophie as of the latest book so well imo). Sophie is a pretty sweet girl, but most importantly she calls all the shots and doesn’t get as much flack for what she does, whether it be a good call or not. For example, Sophie was BARELY held accountable for when she let Alvar go in Legacy (not hating on our favorite Sophie, but that was a horrible choice). In Marella’s short story, Marella is faced with a hard choice and so she thinks of what Sophie would do in her place. For Fitz, it seems to him that Sophie can just do whatever she wants and not get any criticism for what she does. Where HE wants to be perfect and always do what is right, he seems to only do what is wrong, and compared to how Sophie can only seem to do what is right it is probably frustrating for Fitz. Of course, none of this is Sophie’s fault. Fitz needs to learn find peace in himself and not to make Sophie something other than mortal (I would say human but they’re not actually human are they?). Fitz cannot do this at the moment, however, because he’s “not doing well” as is said by the song. He still never fully has gotten to process his feelings about Alvar, as for the ENTIRETY of Flashback he literally had to bottle all his emotions or he would die. That’s lowkey traumatizing.

Fitz is just not doing his best, simply put.

Ooh, I care, I care, I care.

Like perfume that you wear, I linger all the time,

Watching, hidden in plain sight.

The emphasis on “I care” reveals that the narrator is pained by the degree to which they care. They don’t want to care as much as they do, but still they’re always watching and needing to know more about the “lacy” that they loathe. Fitz doesn’t want to let his jealousy affect his friendship and his feelings for Sophie as much as they do.

Ooh, I try, I try I try,

But it takes over my life, I see you everywhere,

the sweetest torture one could bear.

Fitz really does try. He’s always saying he’s working on himself, and he does. Yet, the progress isn’t instantaneous, and the rate at which Sophie’s success conflicts with his own is greater than the rate at which Fitz tries to manage his feelings. Fitz’s entire life is supposed to be about being the greatest and the most “perfect” elf there is, but when Sophie comes in and starts to fill in all those standards, it can’t help but conflict with Fitz’s pursuits in an ugly way. So the lyrics "it takes over my life" and "I see you everywhere" are pretty fitting.

Yet, Fitz wants her. He wants to spend his life with her. Fitz admires her and can’t help but develop feelings for this pretty girl who was a breath of fresh air from his life of perfection (though distorted by the warped view elves have of romance because of the matchmaking system). So, torture though it is for Fitz to watch Sophie take his place as the greatest, it is sweetened by the fact that he’s watching someone he admires (matching the lyrics "the sweetest torture one could bear).

Smart, sexy lacy, I’m loosin’ it lately

I feel your compliments like

bullets on skin

Coming from someone above you, compliments can feel untrue, and when you’re jealous of that person who is above you, those compliments can just feel painful.

Before Legacy, Fitz and Sophie were on the same page, and their relationship with each other was great, too great. Fitz also seemed be more useful in past books in the series, but as of late he hasn’t been very useful (as Rayni joked about in the beginning of Stellarlune. It was funny but also I felt bad for Fitz).

Sophie starts to ghost Fitz during Legacy. Then when Fitz tries to find Alvar by searching through Cassius’s mind (bold, Fitz), Fitz finds out Cassius was playing him the whole time! Cassius was never really going to tell Fitz where Alvar was, but Cassius had no problem letting Sophie know. Sophie was just better than Fitz in that she could search Cassius’s mind and that she found Alvar. In a single day, Sophie did both of Fitz’s projects for him. Then Sophie reveals in book 10 that actually she has feelings for Keefe, so even romantically he isn’t good enough. Ouch. As of late, Fitz is loosing control of his perfect facade and of his ability to control his life, and so in turn he spirals inside and looses control of all the little things he used to be able to control about himself.

Dazzling, starlet, Bardot reincarnate,

Well aren’t you the greatest thing to ever exist?

While Sophie isn’t aspiring to be an actor, she is aspiring to be a “star” in the sense that she’s the symbol of change and she’s aspiring to be something great (referring to the lyric “starlet”). From the moment she entered the lost cities, Fitz's pride in life, everything he was made to be and told he had to become, starts to be fulfilled by this talented girl named Sophie. She begins to overshadow Fitz in a lot of ways during the series, like how she ends up in the nobility (Fitz's dream job) or ends up finding Alvar (something Fitz has been trying to do for months and months). So the judge-y tone in which Olivia sings “well aren’t you the greatest thing to ever exist?” are a pretty great way to represent the contempt Fitz likely seems to feel.

Ooh, I care, I care, I care

Like ribbons in your hair, my stomach's all in knots

You got the one thing that I want

The simile of “like ribbons in your hair, my stomach’s all in knots” describes a feeling emotional turbulence. Which, in relation to Fitz, is fitting since he likely feels strongly about his current relationship with Sophie. The beginning scene of Unlocked actually details it. When Keefe could feel Fitz’s emotions, Keefe said he felt, “Sadness. Nervousness. Regret. Loneliness. Plus a hefty dash of anger” (idk what page number). He really does like Sophie, their friendship is priceless.

The lyrics “you got the one thing that I want” have a double meaning. On one hand, Sophie is the one he wants. She stole his heart (and now she broke it, oops). On the other hand, she has leadership, a position of power that makes Fitz secretly so jealous. All these conflicting feelings surely turn his stomach up in knots.

Ooh, I try, I try, I try

Try to rationalize, people are people

But it's like you're made of angel dust

These lyrics convey that the author struggles to view this person as a normal human being because they’ve idolized this person in their mind.

What is also frustrating is trying to be rational about someone when you’ve idolized them. In the cognate inquisition it was revealed that Fitz viewed Sophie as this strong, fearless and perfect leader. Now that it's become a problem, he has to try to see her as a normal elf, full of flaws (just like everyone), but it's hard for him to let go of the expectation of perfection he’s lived under his whole life.

I’ve often wondered if that’s why he views Sophie the way he does. Maybe he’s just been projecting his own need to be perfect onto her, and has been falling for the Sophie in his mind that would please his Vacker family instead of the real Sophie.

(bridge)

Oh, oh, oh

Oh, oh, oh, oh

Oh, oh, oh

This doesn’t have to do with the lyrics above (it's just “oh” so not much to go off of), but the way Olivia sings this whole song is whispery and angelic, but strained, almost as if she’s fighting herself. She’s singing a song about an ugly flaw in a beautiful way, painfully unearthing the jealous side of admiring someone on top of condemning them for being seemingly perfect. Fitz himself is this image of perfection. He’s the epitome of elven culture. He’s a beautiful, ethereal elf, who has the most perfect life and does everything right. Yet, his flaws are such a stark contrast in comparison. The way Shannon has written him has a heavy emphasis on his struggle to work on his flaws. His whole character sort of symbolizes the elven world, in that it's so pretty and perfect on the outside but broken and hiding horrors inside. As the elven world crumbles throughout the series, so does he.

An angelic song about one’s own flaws is very fitting for him, I'd say.

Lacy, oh lacy,

it's like you’re out to get me.

You poison every little thing that I do.

This last, whispered bit of the song reveals the true loathing. For every lyric before the this point, any feelings of true loathing were braided into comments of adoration. Here, however, it is confessed that the author is scared of the way this “lacy” threatens them. This “lacy” really effects them, she poisons the authors life. The speaker feels targeted by lacy’s success, like it's a personal attack, and to the author it is personal. This “lacy” makes the author feel smaller in comparison. It's a deeper, hidden self loathing. The author is jealous of lacy’s perfection because the author loathes themselves for not being perfect like lacy is. So everything the author does seems to be disgustingly unworthy compared to what lacy does.

This is how Fitz feels about Sophie in a sense. Maybe not as strongly, but certainly Fitz’s subconscious desire and pressure to be perfect generates feelings inside him that parallel what Olivia Rodrigo describes here.

Sophie is Fitz’s “lacy”.

Lacy, oh lacy,

I just loathe you lately,

And i despise my jealous eyes and how hard they fell for you.

Yeah, I despise my rotten mind and how much it worships you.

Fitz never used to feel this way about Sophie, at least not to the degree that he feels now. As things have shaken out, he’s been loathing her.

This is something that likely frustrates him, because he likes Sophie. She’s his best friend besides Keefe (debatable). Nobody wants to be obsessively jealous over someone they love. Yet, this obsession with Sophie, the reasons that he is jealous of her, are also why he started to fall in love with her, and pretty hard. This is why the lyric “I despise my jealous eyes and how hard they fell for you” goes so hard (excuse my un-academic language). His mind is poisoned by the need for perfection that growing up as basically elven royalty, as a Vacker, conditioned him to. He has a spoiled mindset, he’s used to getting what he wants, and for things to go his way (relating to the lyrics "my rotten mind”). Maybe he just wants to get Sophie out of his head, maybe he just wants to stop feeling for her the way he does.

Maybe he just wants Sophie to stop being the thorn in his heart that she has likely, unfortunately, become because of his "rotten mind".

(none of this analysis is Sophie or Fitz hate. We love Sophie in the household, and we also love Fitz in this household)

#kotlc #fitz vacker #keeper of the lost cities #kotlc fitz #kotlc stellarlune #keefe sencen #sophie foster #kotlc keefe #kotlc sophie #kotlc legacy #fitz is just one deep character man #you could analyze the daylights out of him #so many songs I headcannon as him #kotlc headcanon

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running-with-the-feels · 4 months

Note

Headcanons for Hanzo & Kuai adopting a daughter? I get girldad vibes from both of then

honestly you are so right tho

I think it could go a few ways, bc I don't think they'd set out to adopt a kid, I think it's something that would sort of happen to them.

So if Hanzo is the one suddenly caring for a girl:

He found her in the wreckage of her home, just barely older than a toddler and crying her eyes out.

Shirai Ryu take in sole survivors, so he brings her back to the compound and she just clings to him, refusing to let anyone else near her.

Then Kuai Liang shows up to an alliance meeting and is stunned to find Hazno carrying a small child and suddenly wonders if he's been in a coma for a few years bc how else can you explain this.

As soon as he finds out the truth, he is immediately on board, making her ice sculptures as toys, teaching her to ice skate, showing her how to throw a punch (bc every little girl should know how to defend herself, Hanzo, why are you looking at me like that it's not like I gave her a knife yet)

Kuai Liang becomes her new favorite person and Hanzo pretends he's not bothered by it (He also just thinks Kuai Liang looks good with a kid and doesn't know how to process that)

Takeda and Frost both latch onto her as well, taking her under their wing and being the bad influence every older sibling should be. Within a week of knowing them, baby girl has pulled three pranks (one of which dyed Hanzo's hair bright pink) and shows no signs of slowing down. Takeda and Frost are very proud.

Generally, I think she'd have a decently normal childhood except for all the kombat training and superpowers.

But if Kuai Liang is the one suddenly caring for a girl, depends on where in the timeline it happens, I'm gonna go with it happening after he and Hanzo have made peace (but I have so many headcanons for how it works at other points in the timeline someone pls ask me about them, give me an excuse to ramble I BEG):

He's on a mission when he finds a baby crying on the doorstep of the safehouse he's using, with a note explaining that she is a cryomancer and needs to be protected. Understandably, he's a little suspicious at how anyone knew he was here, but resolves to figure it out another day.

Literally the moment she looks at him, he's gone, that baby girl is his new reason for living and he would do anything for her, 0-60 in no time flat just absolutely ride or die.

He names her after his mother

Kuai Liang brings her back with him to the Lin Kuei and she becomes the clan's best kept secret, not a Word of her existence gets out bc Kuai Liang is understandably worried that someone will try to take her (that note was pretty suspicious after all), and everyone in the clan is just instantly smitten. Frost in particular declares herself baby Ru's protector. If Kuai Liang isn't holding her, Frost is.

Hanzo comes to the temple for an impromptu alliance meeting, kinda worried bc they weren't scheduled to meet for a week and then just sees Kuai Liang with a baby in his arms and short circuits (is also hit with some Horrendous baby fever because jesus Kuai Liang looks good with a baby, fucking hell)

Hanzo is the only person Kuai Liang trusts that has had a kid before (look, we love Johnny, but man cannot keep a secret to save his life) so naturally Kuai Liang called him for help.

Hanzo is also enchanted by baby Ru from the moment he holds her and helps Kuai Liang set up a proper nursery, get everything he needs, and volunteers himself for babysitting duty whenever needed. He and Frost end up making peace solely because of baby Ru.

Hanzo also ends up moving into the Lin Kuei temple for a couple months (he still does go check on his own clan, he's basically just taking a leave of absence) and helps Kuai Liang learn how to parent. They take turns going to settle her when she wakes up in the middle of the night, that way at least one of them gets some sleep.

That's how they end up getting together, Hanzo has to go back to the Shirai Ryu for a week and when he comes back Kuai Liang is exhausted and running on fumes as he hands baby Ru over, kissing Hanzo with a mumbled thank you, and then shuffling off to bed.

If they both end up suddenly looking after a little girl:

They're on a mission post-Kronika being defeated (in an AU where the timeline didn't get reset bc fuck that), and they find one of Shang Tsung's labs that he rebuilt after escaping Kronika's void.

It's a new version of the flesh pits pretty much and in it he's made clones of all the various defenders, but not clones of just one at a time, like he mixes the DNA of two or more defenders together to make a kid. (Think laura from the xmen)

Every defender basically gets a new kid (Kitana, Liu Kang, and Kung Lao have an understandably Wild set of reactions to that which I will Happily ramble about given the opportunity) and that includes Hanzo and Kuai Liang who's DNA was mixed to create a little girl who is about ten when they find her (that's as far as Shang Tsung could speed up the aging process, all these kids look about ten but none actually are)

She's got Hanzo's temper and Kuai Liang's stubbornness so it's a bit of a rocky start, especially since she is so confused about the situation, but once she gets settled, she warms up to them pretty quickly.

They take her to the Shirai Ryu bc Kuai Liang understandably has some negative associations with a child that age being within the walls of the Lin Kuei temple.

She's absolutely unhinged and wild, just no sense of decorum. When she's bored, she will just Leave and go hide in the woods so at least one person must have eyes on her at all times (Hanzo briefly considers a backpack leash but Kuai Liang immediately shoots him down.

She's also shockingly talented at Kombat, which Kuai Liang is very concerned by and he tries to give her some constructive hobbies to balance her out, like painting. She takes to it quite well, but also really enjoys drawing quite spooky things so its a mixed bag.

She and Frost are always either the best of friends or at each other's throats there is no in between. Hanzo is worried by how often they throw knives at each other but Kuai Liang and Bi-Han did the same so he's not very concerned by that.

Takeda finds her unsettling at first (partly because he wasn't introduced to her before he stumbled across her in the woods, cooking and eating a rat she had killed bc she got bored.

They end up getting along fine once the situation is explained, but that was quite a shock.

When she's fifteen she joins the Lin Kuei officially, bc that is the youngest Kuai Liang will allow her to be when she joins and trains with them full time.

Eventually, Frost takes over as grandmaster and baby girl becomes the next Sub-Zero, the two becoming a deadly team as Takeda becomes grandmaster of the Shirai Ryu

Lemme know if you want more, bc I can do more

#kuai liang #hanzo hasashi #subscorp #mortal kombat #mortal kombat x #mortal kombat 11

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stardustdreams-andcaffeine · 2 years

Text

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

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦

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

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steppenwolfofslytherinhouse · 4 months

Note

HIII FRIEND!! I’m still working on the ones you sent me, but if you’re still doing it, can I get 9, 12 and 16 for the ask game?

you can choose whichever char you’d like! 🫶

MY FRIEND! 💜💜💜 I'm soooo happy to get an ask from you 🫶🏻 looking forward to reading yours hehe ;) here goes! (gonna go with Laxus again since he's my main love and we have looong history lol)

9.What was your first impressions of each other?

Laxus:...weird hair.

Me: THAT'S what you're gonna go with??💢 (p.s.my hair at the time was a mix of purple and red,cut short and sticking every which way...dude has a point.)

Laxus: Okay,okay,sheesh.Um...bratty?Attitude problems?😮‍💨 (my angry comments on the background:I DON'T WANNA HEAR THAT FROM YOU!!WHO TRIED TO CRISP THE WHOLE CITY WITH LIGHTNING?!) Just bein' honest here.But also..girl with secrets.Someone who puzzled me a lot with her actions.

Me: :3 mystery woman,I like that.Okay so,for me...pathetic,lonely-looking dude who got kicked out of the guild...😈

Laxus: Hey!💢

Me: What would you like me to say?! "Ahhh the handsome buff angsty man I fell in love with at first sight..." lol like I'm ever gonna say that.Seriously though...because he was so broody and closed off,he intrigued me.It was almost like a...challenge to get to know him better.And I like myself a good challenge ;)

12.Favorite memory of each other?

Laxus: *very quietly,almost mumbling* All of them.*coughs and pretends he said nothing because big tsundere alert* >.>

Me: *sighs even though she herself is even bigger tsundere* Imma go with one of the first memories-how he was dying from mere cold and I kindly and nobly stuck around to heal him...😇

Laxus: When will you ever let that go?!

Me: Never :3 *whispers to the audience so Laxus can't hear* the training camp.I was having almost lethal problems with controlling my powers and he took it upon himself to train me (since we are both Lightning Dragon Slayers).On the last day of camp there was a fireworks festival which we went to and ended up falling asleep on the roof of the house,bundled up together.Then pretended it never happened like the two idiots that we are. (Laxus is eyeing me with a smirk because Dragon Slayers have an exceptionally good hearing.Rip me.)

16.What do you two find to be the most attractive about one another?

Me: Go ahead,say everything.I know you want to. 💁🏻💅🏻

Laxus: *crosses arms and pretends he didn't hear.Then answers seriously* Her strength.Mental more so than physical.She's been through a lot,maybe more than me and yet nothing could ever break her.There truly are too many things to list.Fierce loyalty,to the guild,her friends,people she loves.Reliability.Intellect.

Me: His personality and strength,for sure.Protective,but knows and respects that I am strong enough to take care of myself and fight my battles.Calm and mature (...mostly.Reverts to being a little arrogant at times so I have to smack his head a few times 😮‍💨*sigh*).The fact that we're both introverted and keep a small circle of close people is a cherry on top. (*finds him being almost twice her height and size extremely attractive.And the lightning scar on his eye.But would literally rather die than admit it*)

Thank you,my friend!🫶🏻💜I enjoy writing these soooo much,gets me in the mood of rereading the story of me and Laxus I wrote years ago.🥲🥲🥲

#ask game #fairy tail #laxus dreyar #f/o #husband forever and ever.

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nabtime · 10 months

Text

Our Empty Graves V

Fandom: Danny Phantom / Batman: Under the Red Hood

Pairings: Danny Fenton/Jason Todd (Dead on Main)

Rating: Mature

Tags: batfamily, hazmat AU, Nobody Knows AU, Mute!Phantom, potential ghost king danny, slow burn?, DC means Disregard Canon, AU means AU nothing is exactly the same, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, more than canon typical violence, danny is a Halfa and also a Fetch, no beta we die like basically everyone

Summary: They say that Red Hood has a loyal mutt. The man rules his territory in Crime Alley with an iron fist and a guard dog at his side. They say that Hood calls him Fetch, sometimes Fetcher. No one's ever heard him speak. Anyone who's ever seen him says he looks like an experiment gone wrong, that Hood picked him up somewhere unspeakable. They say he'll do anything Red Hood asks of him and he'll do it well. That he's strong and fast and probably inhuman. The girls say he's sweet; quiet but charming in his own way. Rival gangs say he's vicious; that he'd sooner rip your throat out than let you go.

Jason just wants to help him.

Chapter 5: they call me devil (and you should be afraid)

Chapter Summary: Red Hood keeps running into Fetcher, who disappears on him each time, until he decides to take the matter into his own hands and hunts the other down.

Chapter Notes: title from Call Me Devil by Friends in Tokyo Links: AO3 // Chapter 1 // Chapter 4 // Chapter 6 // Spotify

There was a part of Jason that knew he wouldn’t find Fetcher in the safe house when he returned, but there was another (stupider) part of himself that had hoped to find the sassy little shit where he’d left him. He knew the first time had been a miracle and probably owing to the fact that Fetcher had been exhausted and recovering. He really hoped the kid had healed fully before he left. It looked like he already had a pretty fast healing rate, but Jason still worried. Like an idiot, really.

He wondered where Fetcher went. Jason didn’t believe for one second the kid actually had a place to go. But then again he literally glowed green and walked around in a Hazmat suit, which meant he was kind of hard to miss. So he had to have a place to go, to hide. Because Jason sure as shit hadn’t seen him since he left. And no, he had not looked. Well, maybe he looked a little. But it didn’t matter because he hadn’t found the fucker anywhere. There and gone again in a single night.

Jason should not be as preoccupied about it as he was. He had plans. He needed to focus. Didn’t matter that he’d felt almost calm for the first time since he resurrected around the kid (four long, long years of mindlessness and anger and a sort of helplessness and despair he hated). Fetcher was gone now and all he could do was sink back into his rage and learn to swim willingly within the haze all over again. He’d done it before and he’d do it again. Rage was useful. Anger was something he could mold and carve to his satisfaction. He would use it as a tool to strike down those that needed striking and avenge those that needed vengeance. Himself for one.

Tall, Dark, and Emotionally Repressed wouldn’t know what hit him. The Batman had failed him. Bruce had proven that while he may have loved Jason, he hadn’t loved him enough. And wasn’t that just the story of his life? Jason had never been enough. Would never be enough. Always second-rate. A good Robin, sure, but not near enough to live up to the first one. To Dick’s spark and skill and flamboyance. Dickie had set the standard for what a Robin should be and Jason had never been able to live up to it. His Replacement got closer than he ever could and it stung. Too arrogant, too forceful, too angry, too reckless. Too much, yet never enough. Jason was loved but it always came with conditions. Jason was mourned but his death had still not been enough to put a stop to the Joker. Just another page in his story instead of the catalyst to his end. He hadn’t cared that Bruce was too late to save him, he’d cared that Bruce had still not considered his death enough to put a permanent end to Joker’s murder sprees.

It pissed him off.

If the Batman, so-called protector of Gotham city, wouldn’t put an end to the festering blight on humanity at large that was the Clown Prince of Crime, then someone else would. Jason was not afraid to bloody his own hands if it meant more innocents could live. If it meant that people like Jason had been wouldn’t have to die anymore. Die broken and bleeding and scared. Thinking that Batman would save you, would pull you out of the wreckage and make sure everything was alright. Thinking that Batman would go to the ends of the earth to make sure you lived. Thinking that Batman would do anything to avenge you if you didn’t. He would not let anyone else live that lie. Die with that lie.

Because that’s all it was. A lie.

If Jason, a child he had brought in and personally trained, was not enough, then there weren’t many others that were. How many people would finally be too many? How many lives would end before the Joker’s? His hadn’t been worthy enough to count as the sacrificial lamb to end it all. Though, he supposed, he hadn’t been worth much anyway. Bruce could bluster all he wanted, pretend to be angry that someone had trespassed on Jason’s grave. But the fact of the matter was that nowhere on that headstone had he been given the name Wayne. Unclaimed and unwanted and unavenged. He wondered, sometimes, if it had been Dick that had died instead of him, if that would have been Bruce’s breaking point. But Dickie had never been stupid enough to get himself killed.

Not like reckless, angry, arrogant, Jason.

But, now, now he had a plan and he would put those traits to use.

He would continue to take over the Alley. Expand his territory and take over all trade from Black Mask and any other Kingpin trying to rule the underground. He would control the drugs, the arms, and any other goods. He would destroy what he couldn’t control and control what he couldn’t destroy. Drugs would sell no matter what he did, so he would make sure they were pure and out of the hands of minors. He would provide refuge for the weak and weary, clean spaces and warm places. He would do what Batman could not and rid the city of its more heinous strains of crime. And he would be as ruthless about it as he needed to be. He would not hold back because of some old moral code, not if it meant doing what needed to be done. He would not be so selfish as to put his conscious above the lives and well-being of others.

He would show the Bat what the city could become before he put Bruce’s morals to the test. Before he found out what Batman’s breaking point really was.

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Six months he’d been running everything. Killing off rival gang members, making sure everyone knew the rules and the consequences for not following them. Pissing off Black Mask and eating more and more of his territory, claiming the Alley for himself. Teasing Batman and dodging his attempts at a take-down. He wasn’t ready to give up the ghost just yet, Brucie needed more patience than that.

It was just another run-of-the-mill patrol of the area. Checking in with his lieutenants, keeping them in line and making sure no one was breaking the golden rule. Checking in on the Corner Workers, making sure they had everything they needed and that no one was trying to rough them up. Checking in on the camps, making sure everyone had food and water and shelter and anything else they needed. Keeping the pigs away from all of them.

So, imagine his surprise when he finds trouble. No, not that he just finds trouble, that was expected and the reason for the patrol in the first place, but that he finds trouble and Fetcher was in the middle of it. Trying to stop it? From the looks of it?

Taking in the scene, there were three figures. Fetcher, some guy in a black jacket and ski-mask (like you couldn’t get anymore cartoonishly criminal), and a girl all done up in high-heels and a short leather dress. Nadi if he had to take a guess. Looked like some bozo had been trying to mug one of the Ladies of the Night. Had been because Fetcher had the guy in a headlock and was- Giving the guy a noogie? The girl in question seemed to just be watching, hands on her hips and grinning, make-up and hair without a single smudge or ruffle. Fetcher must have intervened before Bozo could get very far then.

Jason joined her in watching the show. Bozo tried to pull a knife and Fetcher just kept one arm around his head and used the other to snatch it away without effort. Then he density-shifted it into his suit and gave the guy a finger wag. Like some naughty kid.

“That’s the third knife he’s done that with,” Nadi said, sounding on the brink of hysterical laughter.

Nadi, from what he had learned of the sex workers under his protection, was always one to deflect with humor when things went south. Served her well in this instance because it kept her calm and able to enjoy the show. She wasn’t new to the block either so this probably wasn’t the first time she’d had a knife pulled on her. Probably the first time a walking radiation hazard saved her though. Or, knowing Gotham, maybe not.

“He hurt you at all?” he asked her, just to make sure.

“Nah,” she said turning to him with a smile that didn’t falter at the sight of his helmet.

He was trying his best to keep his reputation good with the ones under his protection, so he was happy to see her without fear around him. The ones who should fear him were the ones that broke the rules, not the ones he made the rules to protect.

“Little man in the funky suit,” she said, pointing to Fetcher with an impeccably sharp nail, “jumped in the second I started yelling at that asshole.”

“Good,” Jason replied. “How long has this been going on?”

“Mm,” she started, brown eyes looking up in thought, “about ten minutes, I think. Glow-boy’s been keeping him down for a while.” Her eyes gleamed. “I just wanna see how many knives is gonna get involved.”

Fetcher had been keeping that man in a headlock for ten goddamn minutes. Amazing.

“Oi, Fetch,” he called, watching as the vicious little nightlight jumped at his voice and dropped the guy, who flopped to the ground, boneless, with a groan. “What are you-”

Jason watched, stunned, as Fetcher held his hands up in surrender and then disappeared. Just fucking vanished into thin air. He switched his helmet to night vision, heat vision, anything and everything. No readings. Nada. Nothing. What the fuck.

“Aw,” Nadi whined, disappointed, “you scared ‘im off.”

“I did not!” he protested. Because really, he hadn’t meant to spook him. He was just glad to see the kid up and about and apparently well enough to take on random muggers. At least Batman hadn’t gotten to him, from the looks of things.

“Big bad Red Hood,” she sang, “scaring off my savior!”

He sighed. At least someone was having a good time.

Bozo groaned, face still planted in ground of the dirty back alley. Oh, right. Assholes to punish. He moseyed over, making sure each boot thunked heavily against the asphalt. He watched Bozo grow tenser with every step he got closer.

“Talk,” he commanded. Fetcher wanted to play good cop (silly cop? ridiculous cop?) to Jason’s bad cop, so be it. He had a reputation. He could be a bit playful with the girls or soft with the kids, but trouble-makers got no mercy.

“I-I didn’t do nothin-,” Bozo started, stammering and struggling to move up onto his hands and knees.

Red Hood took care of that with a swift kick to the ribs.

“Try again.”

He wouldn’t stand for someone trying to shift the blame. Trying to get out of the consequences of their actions.

Bozo groaned and curled up on his side. Jason had no sympathy.

“Fine, fine,” Bozo said, face still one with the concrete. “Know the girls always carry a lotta cash from workin’. Figured it would be an easy grab. Wasn’t plannin’ on hurtin’ her.”

Nadi scoffed. “I worked hard for my money, asshole.” She loomed over him, hands on her hips, and Jason let her. “You thought you could just grab it off me?” She pressed a threatening heel against the guy’s bruised ribs. “I’da fought you off myself if little cujo hadn’t tackled you.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Bozo said miserably. “Just throw me to the cops already.”

Jason tsked. “No pigs in the Alley.” He paused, thinking it over for a moment. Guy looked young and scruffy. Desperate for money by the sounds of it, if he was willing to go for someone in Jason’s territory. Knew to keep more than one knife on him, so stupid- but with some street smarts. He could work with that. “You’re working for the girls now, as penance.”

“What?!” Bozo and Nadi shrieked at the same time.

Jason held up his hand for silence. He pointed at Bozo first. “Room and board and something better to do than trawl the streets for blood money.” Then pointed at Nadi, “Extra set of hands to do whatever you want.”

Nadi’s eyes gleamed again at that. “Whatever I want?”

Smart girl.

Bozo collapsed back down with another pitiful groan. Served him right. Jason crouched next to him, making sure he had the guy’s attention and letting a little murderous-intent bleed into his voice.

“Pull this shit again and there won’t be another second chance.”

He bared down on him, making sure it got through that thick skull just what would happen if he crossed the line again. He was lucky he’d gotten away without any maiming this time. Next time, Hood would have his head.

Bozo nodded, face pale and clammy. Jason stood up, satisfied, before turning to Nadi again.

“He tries to pull anything, let me or any of my crew know.”

And with that he grappled off, climbing back to the rooftops and running his route with a distracted air. Looking for a neon green glow he knew he wouldn’t find.

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The second time Jason caught sight of Fetcher out and about, it was a much bloodier encounter.

Some of Black Mask’s men had ambushed him mid-patrol, thinking they could catch him by surprise and bring him in to their increasingly irate boss. Too bad for them that Jason wasn’t a man so easily caught off guard. If there was one thing that Bats taught all the Robins that served them well- it was paranoia. If you think they’re always out to get you, you’ll be prepared for the many times they actually are.

Five against one, but Jason was packing all five of the Bennett sisters tonight and he had more tricks up his sleeves besides.

One shot to the jugular. One pistol whip to the face. One kick in the ribs and two shots to the kneecaps. Two men trying to grab at his arms at the same time, missing, and getting swept off their feet by one of Jason’s own.

One guy got an arm around his neck in the aftermath, pulling tight, and one of the two he’d knocked over popped back up and wrestled Lizzie out of his grip. Two were completely out of commission but that still left three stubborn bastards. The third one got in a shot to his thigh while he was throwing off the others.

He hissed, the bullet was unable to pierce his armor but still left a nasty bruise.

He pulled Mary out of her holster and took a rapid shot at that third guy’s hand, taking out his gun and leaving him out of the game for the rest of the fight- screaming and trying to staunch the blood pouring from his missing finger.

The other two had backed off, noticing that their odds were dwindling fast.

One guy pulled a knife, the blade glinting strangely in the light of the street lamp. Looked like it was coated in something. A paralytic, a poison? No matter what, it wasn’t likely to pierce his jacket or his armor. And the guy should know better than to bring a knife to a gun fight.

He took the shot but the guy dodged.

Idiot number two pulled a gun himself and fired off, three shots, all going large. One to the brick behind him, one to the pavement, and one to the dark of the night beyond them.

Idiot number one, being faster than Jason anticipated, made a lunge toward him and his knife skimmed the sleeve of his jacket on the left side, cutting a long and jagged stripe before just barely nicking his wrist where his jacket ended before his gloves.

His hand went numb. Fuck.

Whatever was on that knife, which shouldn’t be able to cut through his jacket, was potent. The edges of his jacket where it’d been split open began to sizzle. Double fuck. That one was his favorite.

He swung around and shot at idiot number one, being careful to dodge around the bullets being fired by idiot number two.

The tingling sensation of numbness was starting to crawl up his arm.

Idiot number one fell to a bullet in the shoulder, poison knife clattering to the ground while the guy screamed. Idiot number two was starting to look antsy, realizing he was the last man standing. Jason may be down an arm but he wasn’t about to let the guy go running. He shot- but the guy was squirrelly and dodged so that it only grazed his shoulder.

The numbness was reaching his chest. Would the paralytic kill him? Stop his heart? Or just leave him trapped? Either way he needed to end this, now. It’d already gone on too long. If he hadn’t been so fucking distracted… He hadn’t seen Fetcher in a week and a half now…

And then, well, think of the devil and he shall appear.

Last idiot standing was being held in a choke-hold by the glowing green halfling in question, which was a little funny from how short the kid was. Fetcher held him there until he passed out before dropping him and running towards Red Hood.

“Long time no see, Jellyfish,” he said, trying for a casual tone as his left leg started going out on him.

The kid gave him a flat stare before standing underneath him and swinging Jason’s left arm over his shoulder.

Fetcher was- cold to the touch. Like he’d been standing in a snowstorm and the chill had permanently sunk into his very being. He felt like static shock, like pinpricks of electricity were swirling around under the latex-like material of the suit. He felt completely unnatural and yet somehow familiar. Jason wondered, not for the first time, just what, exactly, a Fetch was.

Jason pointed to the dropped knife, sitting so innocently on the dirty pavement. “Gonna need that. Doc Thompkins’ll need to know what got me.”

Fetcher bobbed his head in a nod and scooped the knife up, being careful of the blade before shifting it into his suit like he had all those others.

“How many knives you even got in there?” Jason asked, trying to distract himself from the numbing sensation crawling further through his chest. His lungs were starting to stutter.

Fetcher held his free hand up in a gesture reminiscent of a shrug that didn’t move his occupied shoulder. So he didn’t know. That wasn’t concerning at all. The little glow-worm got them to the mouth of the alley before motioning to the street before them. Asking for directions.

Jason jabbed the thumb he could still move towards the left. Man he hoped Leslie would help him.

It was only after Leslie reluctantly let him go and he exited the clinic that he noticed Fetcher had disappeared again.

═════ ◈ ═════

Twice was a coincidence, three times was a pattern.

This time it was in the rain, heavy downpour obscuring everything in sight and the occasional flash of lightning spearing the dark in a thunderous roar.

Bruce had caught him on one of his runs.

They were on the edge of the roof, his boots slipping just the slightest against the slick concrete that bordered the ten story drop as Batman gripped the shirt that covered his chest armor in his fists, holding him up and being the only thing between him and the pavement below. One hand of Jason’s scrabbled against the slick armor on Batman’s arm and the other held a gun against the man’s head.

Red Hood laughed, bordering hysterical, the sound crackling and grating through the filter on his helmet. “Let me go, Batman,” he demanded, gun digging against the mask over Bruce’s temple.

“Who are you?” Batman growled, agony underpinning his words and it flooded Jason with a righteous glee that made him ache. Oh, Brucie, Brucie, Brucie he thought. You’re so close to figuring it out but you’re still not sure.

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” he said, trying not to cackle. The sweet, sweet fury painting his father’s ex-mentor’s face was delicious. He might not be ready to lead Batman to his pièce de résistance but he could still enjoy teasing in the meantime.

“Tell me,” Batman demanded, shaking Red Hood within his grasp, making Jason’s boots slide ever further toward the edge.

“Or what,” he snarled, “you’ll kill me?”

He nudged his gun to an angle beside Batman’s head and shot, the bullet flying into the air but the blast and the noise pushing Bruce away and startling his grip loose. Jason used the momentum to push up and arch in the air, feeling the rain and the wind against him as he flew. He flipped and felt the beautiful, intoxicating rush that came with free falling. Distantly he could hear Batman yelling, but all he wanted to concentrate on was feeling the pull of gravity before he landed.

He pulled out his grapple and aimed. It slipped and he cursed. The building was too short to sustain his fall for long and he didn’t have time for another grapple to hook and swing. He was meeting the pavement fast. Too fast. He wasn’t usually this sloppy. His landing would be messy and painful, but if he moved right, he’d live.

Cold hands caught him a single story from the ground and slowly lowered him down until his boots hit sidewalk. The glow around them told him he knew who his savior was.

When he was released he turned. The hands that had caught him were gone, and so was the rest of Fetcher. He tsked in annoyance. He’d need to hunt the kid down at this rate.

He looked up to see if Batman was still there. But if he was, he couldn’t see anything through the rain.

═════ ◈ ═════

Of course he was living in a graveyard. Because why not, right?

It was one of the last places Jason tried searching. Ever since Fetcher had risked Batman’s wrath again by catching him a few days ago, he’d doubled his determination to find him. He shouldn’t let himself get so distracted from his main goal, but keeping Fetcher within his sights and making sure the kid was safe was now part his master plan, apparently.

He could see a faint glow up in the branches of the single hickory tree planted in the cemetery Fetcher had originally been chased from. The one Jason was buried in. He tried not to have any particular feelings about that. He watched as the green shell of a hickory nut fell from the branches and bounced on the ground. Well, at least the kid was eating.

“Hey,” he called, watching the branches shake when Fetcher startled. “Get your radioactive ass down here.”

He backed up and watched in fascination as the other man swung down from a branch like a monkey before he dropped like a stone. If the forty foot drop did anything to his ankles when he landed directly on his feet, he didn’t let it show. What the fuck was this guy?

Fetcher walked closer, posture cautious but casual. Like there was at least some modicum of trust but he still knew to be wary. He tilted his head to the side, a question.

“How many crimes have you interfered with on my turf?” he asked, crossing his arms. He was genuinely curious though. He’d gotten reports from his lieutenants that mister nightlight had been spotted multiple times preventing a mugging or defending a Corner Girl. A little vigilante in the making, all he needed was the blue eyes and black hair and he’d be perfect Wayne Bait.

Fetcher scuffed his shoe against the grass and hid his hands behind his back before shrugging, trying to act innocent. Little shit.

“Listen,” he said, “if you’re gonna play vigilante here, it’s gonna be on my orders.”

Fetcher raised his head and tilted it to the side again. Another question. He sighed.

He walked closer, steps slow and careful so Fetch wouldn’t disappear on him. He didn’t want to spook the guy. “No more living in trees and popping in and out of nowhere,” he said firmly, close enough to see his curious glowing green eyes. “If you’re gonna work in my territory, then you’re gonna be on my payroll.”

The green glow narrowed and Fetcher crossed his arms. Defiant. Defensive.

Jason scoffed. “If you mess with things you don’t know about you’re going to get hurt. Or get someone else hurt.”

The arms dropped but stayed crossed, his head tilted to the side. Accepting but still questioning.

“I’m not going to stop you from saving people,” he said, “since that seems to be something you want to do.”

“But,” he lifted a finger, “you gotta listen to me. And you’re going to live in an actual goddamn house, you heathen. And eat actual food. I don’t care if you’re not human, no man under my protection is living like a monkey unless they are one.”

He paused. “You aren’t some type of monkey, are you?”

Fetcher seemed to double over. Shoulders shaking in silent laughter. Probably a no then. But, yeah, sure, laugh at him for not knowing what the fuck a Fetch was and trying not to make any assumptions.

“Alright, alright,” he grumbled as the other seemed to finally gather himself together. “You coming or not? I’m setting you up in a safe-house and then putting a fucking bell on you so I know where you are.”

He wiped a tear that wasn’t actually there from his tinted mask and mimed catching his breath before nodding and gesturing for Jason to lead the way. Then he paused and tilted his head. He lifted his arms and made a little paw motion beside his head and moved his head back and forth. Jason could almost see green ears and tail appear.

“Don’t ever do that again.”

Fetcher leaned forward, arms out in some sort of questioning shrug. Why not? he seemed to say, with some mocking edge. Little shit knew what he was doing.

God, Jason really hoped he wouldn’t regret this.

#naps fics #dp x dc #Our Empty Graves #dpxdc

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