#around him ironically couldn't ever accept about him that he was always capable of that.

[daincrediblegg]

genuinely I don't think they could have pulled a better power move on the mental optics of Arthur Fleck/ Joker than the fact that he holds himself accountable rather than dismiss the violence he had about himself and that he perpetuated on others. it really frames the character himself as someone emotionally capable of meaningful introspection and change which is something you just don't see even remotely to nearly an explicit degree with any other joker portrayal (let alone portrayals of mental illness in mass media and depictions of "villainy" that so often fall so short of this mark)

[nyrasvoid]

A Knight’s Prize

Gwayne Hightower x Fem!Reader

Summary: in a tourney to decide her future, Rhaenyra Targaryen’s eldest daughter must choose a husband. Ser Gwayne Hightower, a charming yet unexpected suitor, captures her attention.

Warnings: i don’t think there is any warning yet but it might contain smut if I write more parts (idk tho)

A/N: this is the first fanfic I have ever written so any criticism as long as it’s respectful will be accepted 🙃 btw english isn’t my first language so some expressions might not make any sense for you guys lol

- Word count: ≈1.1K

As the eldest daughter of Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen and Ser Laenor Velaryon, you carried the Velaryon name with pride. At almost ten and eight years of age, you knew your time had come to marry and strengthen your house. Though your mother felt guilty about marrying you off against your will, she decided to organize a tournament, allowing you the choice in selecting your future lord husband, just like she had wanted when she was younger.

The Red Keep buzzed with anticipation as knights and lords from all over the realm gathered to compete for your hand. Among the spectators sat King Viserys, Queen Alicent, and their children, observing the events unfold. The tension between the blacks and greens was palpable, especially since Alicent had rejected the offer of Princess Rhaenyra of marrying Jacaerys to Helaena, calling her sons ‘plain featured’.

You and your brothers had always noticed the looks and whispers of the highborn lords and ladies each time you walked around the Red Keep. You sometimes resented your mother, not for finding comfort in a lover, as you very much did not care, but for finding a lover with such strong genes.

Your mother approached you as you stood in the balcony of your chambers, overlooking the field. “Are you ready, my daughter?” she asked, her voice filled with a mixture of concern and determination.

You nodded, your eyes scanning the assembled knights and lords below. “Yes, mother. I am very excited to marry a lord I will most possibly not be fond of and bear his heirs, for it is my duty to the realm.” You said sarcastically as you looked down sadly.

“See,” Rhaenyra said, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “I know that you did not ask for any of this, but it is our duty as princesses of the realm to bear heirs for the iron throne”. You looked at her “I know it is, mother. I am just scared” you paused as you took a deep breath “What if he mistreats me?”. You mother chuckled “Then you must let me know and I shall fly to you and make Syrax devour your lord husband”. You both giggled at your mother’s words, you saw her capable of it, she had always been protective of her only daughter.

As the herald announced the beginning of the tournament, you couldn't help but feel a knot of anxiety tighten in your stomach. The knights and lords paraded before you, each hoping to catch your eye and win your favor. Your gaze lingered on Ser Gwayne Hightower, the eldest son of Otto Hightower and brother of Queen Alicent. Why was he even here if Alicent had already rejected the opportunity to unite even more your houses? Wasn’t he also defeated by your uncle Daemon in a tourney years ago? It would have been funny to see Otto’s face then, the man he hated the most in the seven kingdoms, knocking his eldest son of his horse. Perhaps his father had sent him, he had always been known as an ambitious man.

The trumpets sounded, signaling the beginning of the tournament. You glanced over at Ser Gwayne, who stood confidently with his head held high. He caught your eye for a moment, and you quickly looked away, feeling a surge of irritation.

As the day wore on, you noticed Ser Gwayne’s victories. His fierce determination and honorable conduct impressed you. He fought with courage, that was both inspiring and captivating. After winning a round against a lord from a minor house you had never heard of, he approached the gallery to ask for your favour.

“Princess, it would be the greatest honor if you would grant me your favor.” He said as he took off his helmet revealing his beautiful blue eyes and charming smile “May your blessing guide me to victory in this tournament for your hand”.

You smiled in amusement “Take this flower crown, Ser Gwayne, and wear it with pride.” You reach for the flower crown resting beside you, it blooms the vibrant colors of Houses Targaryen and Velaryon. “It bears the colors of my house and the faith I have in you”. You lean forward, gently placing the flower crown on Ser Gwayne’s lance.

Ser Gwayne bows once more, his voice filled with gratitude. “I am deeply honored, my lady. With your favor, I shall strive to be worthy of your hand”

During a brief intermission, you found yourself wandering through the gardens of the Red Keep, seeking a moment of respite from the intensity of the tournament. Thinking about how your future was about to be decided by a stupid tourney. It was there were you encountered one of the knights fighting for your hand.

"Princess," he greeted, bowing deeply. "I hope the tourney is to your satisfaction."

You studied him for a moment, noting the easy charm in his smile and the glint of mischief in his eyes. "It is, Ser Gwayne. You fight well and with honor.”

"Thank you, princess," he replied, stepping closer. “I must admit, I didn’t expect to find such beauty amidst the flowers.”

“Ser Gwayne,” you reply, feeling your cheeks heat up. “Shouldn’t you be resting for your next fight?”

“I find the gardens far more refreshing than the company of annoying knights,” - he steps closer “Besides, I couldn’t resist the chance to speak more privately with my future lady wife.” he says confidently.

There’s a playful spark in his eyes that makes your heart race. “You seem very confident, Ser Gwayne. Aren’t you worried about the competition?”

He leans in slightly, “The only competition that matters to me is winning your hand, princess”

You laugh softly, both flattered and intrigued. “Bold words for a knight who hasn’t yet proven himself.”

His gaze becomes more intense, a hint of cockiness in his smile. “Then perhaps I should start proving myself next round.”

Before you can respond, he gently takes your hand, placing a tender kiss on your knuckles. You could feel your cheeks heat up. It wasn’t the first time a knight or a lord kissed your hand, but this time was different, you actually felt something.

As the distant sounds of the tournament begin to echo through the gardens, you know it’s time to return. Ser Gwayne till holds your hand, as if he is reluctant to let go.

“I suppose we must go back,” you say softly.

He nods, as his eyes remain fixed on you. “Duty calls us both, it seems.” he said as he let go of your hand “But know this, Princess. My intentions towards you are sincere, it would be a great honor to marry you”

You give him a small smile, though you doubt his real intentions “Words are easy, Ser Gwayne. Proving them is the true challenge.”

“Then I shall accept your challenge, for you are worth every effort.”

You can’t help but wonder if his charm is genuine or simply a tactic. You recall the reputation of the Hightowers, a family known for their ambitions. Are Ser Gwayne’s intentions truly genuine, or is he merely following his father’s orders, seeking to gain influence through marriage?

You walk back to the main grounds of the tournament, his words echoing in your mind. ‘My intentions are sincere.’ Could it be true? Or is this just another scheme by his father, Otto Hightower, to strengthen their hold on power?

As you take your place, you steal a glance at Ser Gwyn. He catches your eye and offers a reassuring smile, but the seed of doubt has already been planted in your head.

The tournament continues, but your thoughts remain divided. You weigh the warmth of his touch and the sincerity in his eyes against the ruthless ambition of his family. Should you trust your heart, which yearns to believe in his genuine affection?

Pt. 2???

P.S. if you guys have any suggestions for part two, to improve my writing or anything you think, please let me know 🫨 Btw just in case you want to know, the lady in the picture at the beginning is Kosem Sultan, played by Beren Saat (there are others) she has great dress inspo if you want them for your DRs or fanfics.

[fraink5-writes]

In the Names of Freedom - Chapter 15

This is terribly late. The next chapter will be on time though.

Thanks to the best @leio13 for her editing prowess!

Summary: After confirming the death of his latest target, Xiao’s secret mission is interrupted by an eccentric stranger in green, who claims to be Xiao’s protector! But the reality is much more convoluted… What destiny could possibly link Xiao with Venti—an assassin of hitmen?

This chapter can also be found on Ao3 here. Without further ado, please enjoy!

Sitting on Xiao's couch, lightly swinging his legs, Venti was a bit happier than he had been in a while, and the reason was simple: Xiao was actually kind. 

Over a week ago, Venti had been at one of the worst points in his life. After mucking up his relationship with Xiao, he had been abducted. And they abused him. Venti still wasn't sure how long he was there nor what was real or fake, but one thing was certain—he lost track of who he was and why he needed to keep living. In that dark chamber, he accepted death as inevitable and imminent, and he had even consented to it, nearly letting it claim his body on several occasions.

In the end, the one who rescued him was none other than Xiao. The very same Xiao that Venti had wanted to save no matter what. Venti's entire purpose of coming to Liyue was to save Xiao from the destructive path he was stuck in, but now Venti found himself owing the hitman a debt he might never be able to pay back. Fate had an ironic sense or humor.

Still, Venti couldn't be mad. In fact, he was content. Not only had Xiao freed him from the torture, but he also went the extra mile to make sure he recovered, keeping him housed, fed, and clothed even after the doctor had released him. It was the first time anyone had done any of those things for Venti in his life, so he was extremely grateful. And, on a more personal level, though Xiao would never be aware, he had revived Venti's reason to live. The story of Venti the Bard didn't end in a dark room, and Venti's efforts to rescue Xiao wouldn't end there either. Xiao thought that he could be no more than a murder weapon, and Venti had believed him. But now Venti was certain that Xiao was kinder than he would ever realize. At his core, he was someone who was capable of a more fulfilling life than the one he had fallen into, but he was blind to it. If he couldn't see it, then Venti was determined to guide him. Only by knowing the full scope of possibilities could Xiao really be free.

“Venti,” Xiao interrupted Venti's daze. "Are you ready to go?"

"Ready when you are!" Venti always had very little to his name, but currently he had even less. Of his original belongings, he only had his phone, which Xiao had snagged off his captors. Additionally, thanks to Xiao's generosity, he was able to buy a few pairs of more suitable clothing (minus the cecilia adornments, which were impossible to find in Liyue) and a decent gun, but that was about it. His lyre was still missing, and unfortunately, it would probably remain out of his reach until he could pull himself together a little more.

For now, Venti would follow Xiao, and their first order of business was an overnight train to Stone Gate. The train car was divided into smaller cabins, which each held two built-in bunk beds. Xiao and Venti had one half, and the other half was occupied by a pair of people who luckily got off at the Wangshu Inn. After they left, Xiao closed and locked the door behind them. Then, at around twenty-two o'clock, the train crew dimmed the lights in the cabin to facilitate sleeping.

Not that Venti had even considered sleeping. There were too many uncertainties parading through his head. Venti wanted Xiao to go to Stone Gate, to learn what was written about him. There were secrets there that Venti couldn't possibly share, and secrets he couldn't even know. But Xiao's life as he knew it began there, so he deserved to learn the truth of that place, and Venti wanted to be by his side when he did. Still, Venti was afraid. Would Xiao remember his previous life? And after learning, could he still remain Xiao?

Venti couldn't help but tap his foot with a prestissimo tempo. Ahhh… He so badly needed a drink… Xiao was extremely strict with Venti's spending and even more so with his drinking. But Venti couldn't take it for much longer. His nervous system shook and ached. It was parched for intoxication. Even one glass of wine would help. Anything. Even a different substance…

Venti glanced over to Xiao sitting on the berth next to him. If Venti's shaking bothered him, he didn't show it. In fact, he was moving to his own gentle rhythm. His head would dip, and then nod, and nod, and nod, and finally shoot up, only to fall again shortly thereafter.

"Xiao," Venti whispered.

Xiao's head flipped up, and he flashed Venti an alarmed stare. "What?!"

Oops. Venti stifled his chuckling. "You can sleep, you know…"

"I'm fine. I don't need to."

"You do need to. I know you haven't been sleeping well on the floor. You're so tired, you're practically sleeping already!"

Xiao opened his mouth to object, but Venti didn't let him.

"Look, the door is locked. It's only us two. It's about as safe as your apartment." Venti scooted closer to Xiao. "I could even fall asleep right now." He closed his eyes and presumptuously placed his head on Xiao's shoulder.

"Do you—" Whatever Xiao was going to say, he cut himself off with a deep sigh that even Venti could feel through his collar bone.

Venti grinned. In his head, he counted the measures of a melody he made up following the rhythm of Xiao's breaths. At the 75 measure mark, Venti felt a light brush of hair against his own. At 100 measures, after the tune had mellowed out significantly, Venti opened one eye and then the other. Tenderly holding Xiao's head, he slowly slid off his perch. Then, lightly sweeping his hand behind Xiao's ear and down to his nape, Venti laid his head on the cushy pillow. Finally, he removed his shoes and lifted his legs onto the bed.

"Sweet dreams, Xiao. No one knows what tomorrow's wind will bring, but I hope it leads to happiness."

[let-them-read-fics]

Blackpink HC / One Shots: Enemies to Lovers, College AU (2/2)

Requested: Yes

Warnings / Misc. -- Bickering, Rivalry, Fluff

A/N: Hey everyone! This is the second half of the request, featuring Rosé and Lisa. If you want to see the first part, with Jisoo and Jennie, click the link below. I hope you enjoy!

Click for Jisoo and Jennie

♡ Happy Reading ♡

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Rosé

Park Chaeyoung: The girl who hung with the wrong crowd.

Your problem lied more so with the people she associated with than her herself. You couldn't wrap your head around why such a kind person like her would spend time with the class clowns and bullies, and to make matters worse, she would stick up for them as well.

She spent most of her days in either the art or music room, creating the masterpieces that her brain came up with.

But as soon as school was over, she'd be hanging out with them again and getting into trouble. For instance, because of her talents, they would invite her to go with them and graffiti various hot spots around town. She never vandalized any monuments or landmarks of importance -- she typically stuck to bridges or abandoned buildings -- but after getting caught with them multiple times, it was inevitable for her to be held accountable.

She was given a week's detention to make up for her actions

You, coincidentally, had a teacher that absolutely loathed you for no reason at all. No matter how good of a student you were for him, he didn't care; he had a vendetta against you for some reason, and he patiently waited for the opportunity to ruin your day.

You came in literally 10 seconds after the bell rang, putting the breakfast sandwich you stopped to get on the way into your mouth so you could open the door. He was standing at the front with a smug grin on his face, and you already knew what was coming.

You were also given an ungodly sentence of a week's detention.

Turning Point

"If I see you on your phones, I'm taking them." The monitor informs before sitting at the desk, reclining in the chair and putting his feet up soon after. You sigh and lean back in your seat, attempting to find a way to pass the next two hours without getting in trouble. Your eyes scan across the room, eventually landing on Rosé, where she sits a couple rows away from you. Sunlight is streaming in through the window next to her, its golden rays peeking through the breaks in the clouds above to shine on her. She looks gorgeous as she doodles away in her notebook, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear when it falls in front of her face.

After waiting on the monitor to fall asleep and sending one last glance to double check, you quietly stand from your seat and go sit next to her.

You barely know each other, but she's your only hope of remaining sane and occupied.

"Hi," you greet, looking into her eyes.

"Hi," she copies, a tiny smile forming on her lips when she notices your impressed expression upon gazing down at her paper. You have to hand it to her -- she's really talented.

"You're really good," you compliment, still admiring the artistry. Seeing as how you're looking down, you fail to notice the blush that works its way to her cheeks. Coming from you, the simple remark meant a lot to her.

You spend the rest of the day making small talk and getting used to one another, leaving detention later with the hopes of sitting together again.

----

The Next Day

"Hi again," you whisper, glancing over your shoulder to ensure that the coast is clear. The monitor is out like a light, with his mouth hanging open and an obnoxiously loud snore coming out.

"Hi," she giggles, watching as you dive into the floor for cover when the man shifts in his sleep. You thought he was waking up, and if he finds out you moved seats, he'll definitely have something to say about it.

"The coast is clear, cadet," she nods like a soldier, assuring you that it's okay to move back after a minute.

"That was close," you breathe out in relief, glad to live to see another day.

You share a laugh, though it has to be hidden behind your hands and kept a minimum. It's cute though -- like a little secret between the two of you, only for you to know.

"What're you drawing today?" You ask later, laying your chin in your palm as you gaze down at her work. Her reply comes out stuttered at first when she feels your leg innocently brush against hers under the table.

"D-dalgom. My friend's dog." She manages out, mentally smacking herself for looking like a fool.

You smile, thinking she's adorable. "I bet it'll be great," you encourage. She grins back as her eyes scan over your face, committing the memory of you to heart. She's always had a thing for you, ever since the time you were paired up in Biology last semester, so she's been enjoying detention more than she thought she would. Seeing you makes the time go by faster, though ironically, she wishes it would slow down a bit.

You make her feel appreciated for more than just what she's capable of producing, and the divide between you and her friend group is blaringly obvious. They like her because of the rush she can help them achieve; you like her because of her.

That thought persists in her mind for the rest of detention, and before she knows it, the monitor is releasing you again. She bends down to put her notebook in her bag when a thought pops into her mind: she wants to ask if you want to go to the park with her. When she's done zipping her bag up, she looks back up at you, only to find you on your phone, talking to someone.

"Yeah, mom. I'll stop by on the way home. So milk, cereal, ramen, and paper towels, right?"

She watches as you wait for a reply, tucking the phone into the crook of your neck as you move to write the list down on a spare piece of paper.

"Alright, love you, too. See you later." You hang up before looking back at Rosie. She looks a little down, and you have no idea why.

You pause for a moment, silently psyching yourself up for what you're about to ask. "This is gonna sound really strange, but do you want to come with me to the store?"

Her heart's pace increases at that, happy to know that you want to spend more time with her, just as she does with you.

"Actually, yeah. That sounds like fun."

You grin at her before spinning around and doing a little celebratory dance, which wins you a strange look from the monitor. You stick your tongue out at him before grabbing her hand and rushing out of the room, hearing his disapproval shouted after you.

--

"Milk?"

"Check."

"Ramen?"

"Check."

"Cereal?"

"Nope."

You nod at her words, now reminded of what you were forgetting. You push the buggy towards the aisle of cereals, gazing around in wonder at the huge selection. Rosé is just the same, eyeing all of the options like a kid in a candy store. After grabbing your mom's favorite kind, you decide on one for yourself and bring it back to the cart. Rosie scoots her leg over, making room for them beside where she sits, reclined in the cart.

You grin when you see her eyeing a box of fruit loops. Huh; fruity. Go figure.

You wordlessly grab the box and hand it to her, feeling your heart melt when she looks up at you like you hold the key to the universe.

"Thank you, Y/N."

"No problem, Rosie." You say, putting your hands on the bar as you begin pushing the buggy again. "Now, I say we see how long it takes to get to the paper towel aisle. My last record was 30 seconds."

She looks at you, clearly impressed, with her eyebrows raised. Without question, she pulls her phone out and gets the stop watch feature ready to go.

"3...2...1... GO!" She shouts, commanding your legs to start pumping as you race down the long strip of store before you. A couple kids dart out of the way just before getting smacked into, quickly turning around and cheering you on as you charge forward.

Her giggles fill the air as you drift around a corner, shouting apologies to the lady you almost bumped into.

"Sorry ma'am!"

A few seconds later, chest heaving and legs sore, you come to a stop in the aisle, dramatically collapsing in a heap next to the buggy. Rosé checks her phone as she reaches down to poke you.

"22.18 seconds, champ," she declares victoriously, smiling when you magically regain enough energy to stand up and celebrate.

"Woohoo! Team Y/S/N (Your Ship Name) for the win!"

She laughs along at that, joining in on your celebration, but she's blushing like crazy on the inside.

-----

The Last Day Of Detention

Ever since your trip to the store, you and Rosé have grown closer and closer. You traded numbers and text occasionally, though nothing beats having her all to yourself for 2 hours straight with no distractions. She feels the same; when she's in class, she can't wait for the bell to ring and signal your reunion. Part of her wants to get in trouble again, just to see you more often.

So, as you'd expect, it's really no surprise that you're sat right in front of her again, telling jokes and asking about her day. You've grown a bit more bold with every step closer you've taken towards her heart, and now you reach down to intertwine your fingers with hers.

She happily accepts, even bringing your hand up to her lips to press a kiss to the back of it. She smiles against your skin after it, making butterflies take flight in your stomach. She's got you wrapped around her finger, and you don't even try to fight it anymore.

The sound of the classroom door opening alerts you, making her lower your hand. She doesn't let go of you, though, and that fact warms your heart for some reason. The squeaky hinges groan out again as the door opens wider, revealing about 4 or 5 people from the friend group that she hangs out with. They motion for her to sneak out with them, but she just shakes her head.

"Come on, Rosé!" They whisper-scream, offering her a way to freedom. Little do they know that she'd take this imprisonment over freedom any day, so long as you're by her side.

"No! Get out before he wakes up!" She whisper-shouts back, eventually convincing them to leave.

"Why didn't you go?" You ask once they're gone, toying with her fingers as your hands rest on the desk.

"Because I like spending time with you." She admits, letting her defenses down.

"I was hoping you'd say that," you smile, letting her know that you feel the same.

The Fallout

After detention, the two of you walked out of the school, hand in hand

"Would you maybe, I don't know... wanna go to the park with me?" She asks nervously, glancing up at you.

"You read my mind, Rosie." You smile at each other and head towards the parking lot.

You started hanging out more, and she distanced herself from her old crowd

You encouraged her to enroll in your school's art program and show her work that way

"You're really talented; it deserves to be seen."

Your support meant the world to her, and she never failed to let you know

"Thank you, Y/N. Having you behind me means the world to me."

At one of her art shows, where she was tasked with unveiling a new piece that she'd been working on for months, you got the biggest surprise of your life.

She created a mural of you, all decked out with every color of the rainbow, utterly gorgeous

She lit up when she saw your reaction

"This piece is titled 'Mine', which I hope the girl in it will soon be." She says into the microphone, looking at you with hope shining in her eyes.

You nod your head with a smile and walk up to her, pressing your lips to hers in a kiss that was long-overdue. She wraps her arms around your waist, pulling you in closer with her sweater-padded hands and kissing you again and again.

The crowd claps for you, happy to see such an ending.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Lisa

I couldn't choose between these two gifs so enjoy both for the price of one ^^^

Lisa Manoban: Cocky, smug, and self-assured. The dancer knew she was hot shit, and she wasn't afraid to show off.

You're all for people being confident and happy with themselves, especially when they're talented, but something about Lisa always seemed to rub you the wrong way.

Whether it be her lack of a filter or the arrogant swagger that she naturally exuded, you weren't sure. People wanted to either be her or be with her, but you fell into neither of those categories.

She always left you frustrated in one way or another, whether it be from her teasing or her witty comebacks

The teachers loved her, as did the students. She was the class clown, so her position was pretty sacred in the grand scheme of things

You, on the other hand, irritated her for other reasons. You were the only person she couldn't get to crack; you never gave into her charms, and it infuriated her to no end. She wasn't used to not getting what she wanted (as childish as that may seem) and having you, one of the most attractive girls at school, turn her down? Well that was a massive blow to her ego.

You weren't afraid to say your piece, and that both pleasantly surprised and upset her.

She constantly tried to flirt with you in class, but you knew it was all for the attention. She just wanted to make her friends laugh, which they always did.

"Y/N, come here babe. There's an empty seat next to me," she coos, batting her eyelashes as you walk in the door. It's a free day, so everyone is sitting with their friends, wherever they like.

"I'm good," you decline, deciding to sit against the wall beneath the large window of the classroom.

"Oooo, denied," Lisa's friends laugh at her this time, chuckling harder when she sticks her middle finger up at them.

"Yah, shut up," she says, nursing her bruised ego as she turns around and opens her phone.

You smile as you continue working on the homework you cracked open, scribbling an answer down onto the notebook paper in front of you. Your fingers glide over your textbook in search of the definition of the term you're on, and Lisa secretly watches from afar. Without realizing it, she grins when you light up upon spotting the answer.

Sometimes her flirting does work, though, and you turn into a blushing mess

*whistle* "Damn, Y/N. You're looking fine today," she exclaims, fanning herself. You worry that she doesn't really mean it, but when her eyes remain on you a second too long to just be friendly, you blush. She's taking in all of you, looking impressed all the while.

"Right back at you, Manoban." You wink, sitting down in your seat across the room. She lightly blushes back, though she does a good job of concealing it.

Considering you share a couple classes and the class sizes are relatively small, it was pretty likely that you'd end up paired together eventually

You weren't happy about it, especially not after the way she had acted that week. Her cockiness had been at an all time high as of late, leaving you frustrated and upset. She was so full of herself; all you wanted to do was wipe that stupid smirk off her face.

"Y/N, you'll be paired with Lisa," your photography teacher informs, pushing her glasses up higher on the bridge of her nose.

"But Mrs. Ta--"

"Pairings are final," she cocks her head at you, persuading you to give in. With a sigh, you respond, "Yes ma'am," and attempt to ignore the sound of Lisa's friends high fiving each other in celebration.

The Turning Point

"My parents are gone for the rest of the week..." she says, holding the door open for you as you carry in your equipment. A hint of suggestiveness lies in it; she's alluding to exactly what you think she is, and you push her shoulder upon realizing it.

"Knock it off, Manoban."

"Okay, okay," she chuckles, listening to you for once. The surprise is clear on your face.

She leads you towards the backyard, where you set up one of your highest power cameras and turn it on. You have to create a gallery of different photos, all under the same theme. You both agreed to do a time-lapse of the sunset, and take pictures of the stars after.

Once she makes sure that the timer is set correctly and that the auto shut-off feature is enabled, she motions for you to follow her back into the house. You do, and she leads you into the kitchen.

"Do you want a snack?"

"Sure, do you have any ramen?"

She nods, quickly busying herself by bending down and searching through the cabinets. After she finds it, exclaiming a pleased, "Aha!", she tells you to go get comfortable in the living room.

Three minutes later, from your place on the couch, you begin to smell something burning. You scramble up and rush to the kitchen, only to find Lisa running around like a headless chicken, attempting to put out the small fire she started.

"HOW THE HELL DID YOU MANAGE TO BURN RAMEN?" You shout, though your tone isn't angry. You're just very shocked, and loud about it. You push her away from the pot, albeit gently, and get the flames to go down relatively quickly. You turn the burners off and put the pot in the sink, leaning against the counter to recover from the adrenaline rush.

"Oops?" She asks more so that says, with a growing smile evident in her voice.

You shake your head and chuckle despite yourself, turning around to face her. "You can order a pizza now to make up for that." You point a finger at her, grinning stupidly when she presses the tip of hers to it.

"Your wish is my command, princess."

Thankfully you're already walking away as she says that, so she doesn't get the satisfaction of seeing you blush.

---

"Lisa, I can't keep going." You groan out, sweat dripping down your face. The pizza you ate earlier is giving you a stomache ache, paired with the physical activity you're doing.

"Y/N, just a little longer, we're almost there," she huffs out, keeping her movements steady somehow. You're a mess by now, so you don't understand how she's still going.

A couple minutes later, the TV in front of you lights up, saying, "Awesome moves! You win!" as you collapse to the ground in a heap.

Why you agreed to play Just Dance with her after eating is beyond you.

"Good job," she compliments, grabbing your hand to high five herself with it.

"Yeah, yeah," you roll over, catching your breath.

She lays down beside you as you recover, telling jokes to hear that laugh that she loves so much. She prefers yours over anyone elses, so it's always such a reward when she gets you to crack up.

"We should probably head up now," she notes, realizing that the stars will be coming out soon. You agree, and she carefully helps you up.

"Here, I'll carry you," she turns, bending down so you can get on her back.

"Lisa, you can't carry me," you brush off, feeling insecurity bubble up again like it always does when you're offered a piggyback ride.

"Y/N, I promise that I can. Trust me," she reassures, looking into your eyes sincerely.

"Alright," you sigh, standing onto the couch to get on easier.

"See?" She asks, sliding her warm hands up your thighs to keep you secured against her. "I've got you, babe."

You tuck your head into the space between her shoulder and neck, inhaling the sweet scent of her perfume.

"I'm gonna punch you if you drop me," you whisper, feeling her laugh against you.

"Fair enough."

-----

Later, On The Rooftop

"Careful," she instructs, outstretching a hand to help you climb out the window. Her camera hangs around her neck, and she takes the cap off of the lense once you're both safely sitting on the roof.

"Wow," you sigh, gazing up at the sky in wonder. Her house is far enough away from the city that you're rewarded with a gorgeous view of the stars, unburdened by the industrial fog that hangs over the cosmopolis.

"It's beautiful out here," you say, looking back at her. You tense up a bit, not expecting her to already be looking at you.

"Sorry," she laughs at herself, looking away once she gets caught admiring you.

"It's okay," you reach down and gently squeeze her hand, making her blush lightly.

"Let's get started," you conclude, pointing at the camera. She nods, knowing that she'd never get the assignment done if you didn't step in to tell her to (considering she'd rather admire you), and she points the device to the sky.

After snapping a few pictures, she lays back in order to get a better vantage point of one of the star systems. She hands it to you after she's satisfied with her work, and you take your turn with it.

She notices that you keep brushing your hair out of the way when it falls in your face, so she decides to help you.

"Here," she says, saddling up behind you. She gathers your hair up, running her fingers through it to neatly pull it up for you. Thankfully she always keeps a spare tie on her wrist.

"Thanks," you smile, snapping another picture. The simple act warms your heart; she's being selfless for once, and helping you without even being asked. It's a refreshing change of pace.

"You're welcome." She chirps, sitting back down beside you.

-----

Later, In Her Bedroom

"Oh, I really like that one!" She says excitedly, pointing at the TV. Her phone, which is connected via Bluetooth and automatically receives pictures of her choosing from the camera, is displaying some of your best shots.

"Yeah, you did really well with that. I think we might beat everyone else if we use that as our cover piece."

Your compliment makes her momentarily shy, and she quickly realizes how much she loves your praise.

The two of you continue like that, reviewing the different pictures and choosing your favorites. She always finds ways to compliment yours, noting your technique or the filter you used, and it always makes you smile. She's different than you're used to, and it's throwing you for a loop, pleasantly surprising.

---

Lisa steps out of the room to go to the bathroom a few minutes later, leaving her phone connected to the TV. A ding sounds out across the space, pulling your attention away from the stack of notes laid out before you. Your eyes dart up to the screen, reading the text message that appeared at the top of it.

Austin ⛓: "Dude, did you get into her pants yet? We're literally betting over here 😂"

You blink a few times as their words sink in, making your chest hurt. You were really beginning to believe that you had been wrong about Lisa; clearly, though, your instincts were right.

Feeling betrayed, you shove your folders back into your bag and stand from the chair, willing yourself not to cry. The sound of the sink turning on lets you know that she's almost done, so you hurry your movements and make your way towards the door. She steps out into the hall just as you exit her room, looking at you with wide eyes.

"Woah, woah, woah, what's going on?" She asks with furrowed brows, approaching you. One of her hands lands on your arm, and you shrug it off as you brush past her without another word.

"Y/N, did I do something wrong?" She asks from the top of her staircase, watching as you walk towards her foyer.

"Why don't you ask Austin?" You bitterly call over your shoulder as you turn the knob, slipping out the front door. She hangs her head upon registering your words, realizing what must've happened. She makes a mental note to give him hell when she sees him again.

Tears sting your eyes as you exit the house, wrapping your jacket tighter around yourself. You should've known something like this would happen. The chilly night air bites at your skin, stealing more of its warmth away with every step you take. The temperature doesn't change your mind, though; you're upset, and you'd rather freeze out here than be face to face with her right now.

"Y/N, wait!" She calls after you, blasting out the front foor. Her footfalls sound off behind you, announcing her rapid approach, but you don't turn around. Realizing this, she darts in front of you, keeping you from walking any further.

"Please, don't go. He's an idiot, Y/N."

"He might he an idiot, but that doesn't take away what he said," you scowl, clenching your jaw. "Betting? Really, Lisa?" You ask quietly, hurt evident in your voice.

"It was a stupid thing they tried to convince me to do. I didn't want to, but I couldn't stop them from talking once you and I were paired up. That's not what I want, though. I'm not just in it for that."

"How am I supposed to believe that? This is your M.O., Lisa."

"It's different with you, I don't know why." That's a lie; she knows exactly why you're different than anyone else she's flirted with in the past.

You stand there before her, silently weighing your options. After seeing the pleading look in her eye, her dark orbs full of sincerity, you relent. "Just take me home. We'll work on it another day," you compromise, allowing her in just enough to take you home, but not enough to stay at her place any longer. You're still weary after a text like that, and you will be for a while.

"Thank you," she breaths a sigh of relief, clasping her hands behind herself as you begin walking back to her house. She notices you shiver on the way, and she slips her jacket off without hesitation to cover you. Neither of you have to say anything; one glance from you is enough for her, and she's content knowing you're warm.

The Fallout

From there on out she was always honest with you and actually spoke out when her friends tried to do something stupid

She still remained the charming class clown that she naturally is, just getting rid of the not-so-nice parts of herself

You slowly let her regain your trust, little by little

She did nice things for you on the daily, whether it be holding the door, carrying your books, or offering to buy you some lunch

"Morning, Y/N. Wanna grab some breakfast?" She asks, moving her head to the side towards the café at the center of campus.

"Sure," you smile, laughing when she celebrates.

She invites you to her dance perfomances

When she goes to championships, you're always first on her list of invites

"I want you there." She declares, handing you the flyer.

"You've got it," you decide, knowing there's no where you'd rather be. "I wouldn't miss it for the world."

At said championship, she won the highest title and claimed victory for your school

You joined the rest of the team on the stage to celebrate, congratulating the solo dancer on her achievement.

"I'm so proud of you, Lis--"

She suddenly kisses you, clearly high off her win. She pulls back when she realizes what she just did, a worried look on her face.

"Shit, I'm sorry." She looks between your eyes, attempting to gauge your reaction.

"Get your ass back here," you order, feeling butterflies take flight when she eagerly presses her lips to yours again, wrapping her arms around you to spin you.

"Does this mean I'm forgiven?" She mumbles against your lips.

You squint, pretending to think about it. "Maybe... or maybe not."

Her subsequent gasp is quickly muffled by your kiss, which she can't seem to get enough of.

[persephoneyss]

Fool.

Pairing: jeon jungkook x f!reader.

Genre: Yandere, dark themes, heartbreak, office au.

Summary: ❝The fool is one who rests dreaming of doing things beyond his reach, instead of making it come true, pathetic.❞

Warnings: Yandere behavior, obsession, stalking / harassment, quite a bit of voyeurism, implicit murder, naming of non-consensual sex, forced pregnancy, somnophilia, jk drug a reader, extremely complicated relationships, sexual tension between mxm characters, naming of homosexual relations mxm.

Number of words: 5000+

︙ Author's note: My second fic here, thank you very much for all the support you gave to the first one. Enjoy!

(Sorry for any mistakes, my first language is not English and I am not fluent either.)

Puedes leer este fic y más aquí en español.

They say, out there, that monotony is boring.

What everyone vaguely forgot, is that we live in it. It is an endless loop between what we do, and what we want.

So, nobody wanted to change it.

Jungkook lived in a routine. He liked his personal independence and, likewise, he never changed anything in his life. He was a man of habit, worthy of admiration and imitation. But he never considered himself capable of guiding someone as his own person, he just seemed boring to him.

Perhaps his complexity of seeing things in different ways was what made him such a genius.

People who break with the custom or the conventional can be called differently in the eyes of everyone, crazy or genius. Jungkook considered himself to be in the middle of both terms. He was madly in love with his genius.

But nobody said that love was for everyone, Jungkook was also in love with another person that he considered that he was worthy of his love, the obsessive and sick, misunderstood love of him.

Jungkook was a genius, but he never wanted money wasting his time on useless things like building an empire and being a millionaire. He looked at other directions in life. His salary was minimal, he worked hard under Kim Taehyung's whip. His boss was successful, just as he has imagined since he saw him go by one fall day.

He couldn't remember the date, but he knew it was fall. The cool breeze was a seal of love.

The clumsy little Jungkook, always with his head down looking for a chance at life. When he could have anything he wanted with his inner genius. The porcelain cup swayed in his hand, watching people rush past, just as he thought it would, everyone had their own business in this time of change. Taehyung really fell from the sky like an angel, or that's what he wanted to remember the day he watched him pass a coffee shop with his phone in hand ordering a cold American coffee even though the wind was blowing strongly in the streets. Jungkook watched him fervently, he was enigmatic and undoubtedly managed to get his attention almost immediately. His tall, firm figure made her want to clench her thighs.

His father always told her that pleasure was fun on unfortunate occasions.

Perhaps because of that, he took enormous pleasure in seeing Taehyung walking close to him.

He felt, in a disgusting way, good about himself. It was as if just by looking at his face and his dark eyes, he would manage to make her cum on his pants. Jungkook searched for him for days, until in an insignificant magazine, which he found by chance, he read about one of the most sought-after businessmen in the nation. Much money, and above all an elegant demeanor. They were the perfect combination to create someone like Kim Taehyung, however, Jungkook missed everything when he saw a photo of his beloved unknown to him.

It was a matter of time. He now named himself to be an excellent worker, always by Taehyung's side wherever he went, he felt euphoric just hearing him say his name with his voice so silent. His personal secretary was jealous of him, she even insulted him for a simple smile that young Jeon showed her. She obviously was fired from her, she being replaced by Mrs. Jang who was an older woman, married with two children.

However, no one ever noticed or simply turned a deaf ear to Jungkook's constant provocations towards the former secretary, just as her mocking smiles seemed to be ignored by conveniently blind eyes.

Jungkook was a man who knew how to play. He loved being the mouse for Taehyung, getting caught up in his whims. But he loved even more being the cat marrying the prey.

And just when he could already feel himself on top of the iceberg, almost close to touching his beloved boss. You arrived. You were an intern, nothing special considering that thousands came every year and you didn't have a permanent position unless you did your job well. Jungkook didn't even notice your presence, not for a year. Mrs. Jang sick from one day to the next, Taehyung had a considerable appreciation for her so she did not take away his job. Only covered it with a temporary vacation.

Jungkook was used to walking into his boss's office being greeted by the harsh but sweet voice of the older woman. But his steps seemed to stop in automatic mode when he heard your voice, it was sweet after sweet. His gaze fell quickly on your figure, you were ethereal, with a hint of mischief that he noticed, questioning if your perfect form was normal to see in a person.

And ironically, he proclaimed you a beautiful and heavenly Angel.

His heart pounded when you seemed to notice his presence, your eyes fell on his face in confusion. Jungkook bit his lip, his breath caught and unconsciously, he clenched his thighs to cover his growing erection. He thought he looked ridiculous standing in front of you without saying anything.

He felt strangely pathetic next to you.

"Who are you? Where is Mrs. Jang?" He asked defensively, surprising your innocent figure. But you never let your guard down.

"I'm sorry, but I'm only a substitute until Mrs. Jang manages to recover. Can I help you with something?"

Jungkook frowned, but only managed to nod with no idea what to do. He took a few steps back, realizing that he had invaded your personal space and cornered you between him and your desk. Anyone who saw them would think that they were close and even that they were having a lovers' quarrel.

I didn't want that. Taehyung was close to being his.

Jungkook looked at you with disdain, you were like a viper trying to tempt his masculine weakness.

But I am not unaware of the fact that I could smell your perfume of roses and vanilla. He was offended that Taehyung will not tell him that he is against someone young again. For a moment he feared that you would steal his position as his boss's right hand man, but that would be ridiculous. Thought. Taehyung was happy by his side, he appreciates him like a ... Little brother. He was trusted.

Nobody said Lucifer couldn't be a woman ...

The next few days weren't any better. Jungkook had his eyes glued to you at all times, counting the minutes when Taehyung called you at his office. How long will it take to leave from your entrance. And when it seemed like too long, he knocked on the door pretending to bring some important documents to sign. I could see you, when you were near your boss you had your head lowered. You were a submissive to him.

Jungkook felt envious, and far beyond, in a reprehensible jealousy of Taehyung. You never lowered your head when he came to greet you every day, nor when he ordered you to bring him a coffee and even less when he tried to embarrass you in front of the other people in the office.

But without a doubt, Jungkook came to hate you more than anyone in his monotonous life. You were a thief to him, you did your job so flawlessly that Taehyung had no choice but to give you the job of secretary. Your secretary. A smile was what adorned your lips every day, Jungkook cursed you a million different times.

You were a competition on their way to the heart of your beloved and perfect boss.

Nothing really changed after your acceptance as a secretary. Jungkook was cruelly trying to ignore you, but you never said anything to him or gave him a sign that he will affect you. Maybe deep down, I expected to see you destroyed by her rejection. Possibly, he thought ironically that he would seek him out asking forgiveness for any mistake you have made for such contempt, seeking to be to his liking again. However, nothing changed for you, you greet him politely, always with that charming look and smile of yours. Just like every day.

Then Jungkook did what seemed the least complicated to him.

He slowly gave up, walking straight to your table to start a conversation every morning, this time, ignoring calls from his boss needing him.

Taehyung was perfect. He put it on a pedestal, admiring its beauty every day as if it were a God.

But with you it was different. You weren't a Goddess to him, that would be stupid. For Jungkook to have you by his side, it was like giving him the privilege of being born again. You were more than his love, you were his life.

Jungkook lived for you. I existed to watch you, love you, make you happy. In its twisted and sick reality, everything you did revolved around his discretion. For he should always have been like that. Taehyung was nothing more than a cruel and beautiful distraction that fate put on him, proving his loyalty to you. Unfortunately he fell into it. His heart felt heavy in his chest, thinking of how long you must have been waiting for him. You must have been alone all that time.

Jungkook cried for you.

"Good morning, Jungkook-ah" Your voice, again.

His gaze was lost on your face. You were the most beautiful thing he had seen in his miserable years of life. He wondered if you, too, could feel his appreciation for you, or could you hear his rampant heartbeat.

Almost unconsciously, like the first time he clenched his thighs biting his lips to avoid being tempted to look past your fragile face. He had never been able to look at your body in a dirty way, but he did not deny wanting to do so. So he did it. His eyes inspected all of you, drinking in your sensuality as if you were a glass of water in front of him. Under your neck that was proud, you had a small necklace with your name written on it hanging and shining beautifully. Your collarbones rose beautifully, Jungkook felt an unreadable desire to want to bite the soft flesh of your neck leaving its marks on it as a sign that you were his. Only from him. Your white shirt was buttoned making a pout to form on her face, I wanted to see what color bra you were wearing that day. Maybe you were wearing something sexier under that stupid uniform, I guess you were ready for him, with some hidden lingerie, tempting him to take you to a bathroom in the building and fuck you foolishly while saying you were his over and over again.

"Are you feeling okay Jungkook-ah?" His gaze followed your body, which rose from your seat to approach him. For a moment he thought he could see your thighs protrude from the black fabric of your skirt that clung exquisitely to your body. His mind created thousands of scenarios where he would remove that garment to make you feel good, hitting you with his cock mercilessly.

Maybe I would let you touch it under the table at employee meetings that were held every week, if you let it mark your entire body with bites and bruises.

"You seem distressed, let me see if you have a fever." You say, without even realizing how his eyes are resting solely on your lips that he was dying to kiss and bite at will.

Jungkook knew that if he touched it, it would be the end. His cock stood up proudly creating a tent in his pants, he was grateful that you were so clueless that you never noticed that small but big problem. His eyes squeezed shut and his hand squeezed his crotch, he hunched over so you wouldn't notice he was coming into his pants with your gentle, harmless touch.

"I'm so sorry! Did I hurt you?" You asked again, even more concerned than before.

Jungkook smiled, trying to breathe normally again. Really naive.

He made fun of you, he liked to play pretend to be the mouse just like with Taehyung. In front of you, he was a sweet and gentle man.

It was fun trying to keep his intentions true, but clearly this was starting to get tedious.

A week had passed since the incident, that day he had to ask permission pretending to be sick in order to go home.

You had been worried about his condition, thinking that you could have helped him. That same night, you called his phone wishing him well soon and apologizing once again.

You were never smart enough to notice that Jungkook had his hand inside his pants touching hard just hearing your soft voice saying how sorry you were, you sounded so weak and vulnerable to him. He dreamed of hearing you again, this time begging for him to make you cum on him a thousand times, he knew you would be perfect for his big cock. Taking him like a big girl, like her perfect little one.

Jungkook was a greedy person. Below being a caring and kind man, he was selfish with his desires. He got bored seeing you for so little time during the day, it seemed as if you ran away from him when you left the large company building. Perhaps it was his greed that led him and condemned you to follow you every day, treading closely in your footsteps.

You lived in a small apartment complex, your house had one bedroom and one bathroom. Jungkook thought it was essential for you, you earned almost the same as him and you were certainly a practical person. Making him fall in love with you even more, he felt identified in a funny way. Ironic. When your figure was lost inside your apartment he felt furious, he could not help feeling angry for not being able to see more of you.

But his eyes noticed almost immediately that your apartment had a window, one that just faced another in front of the neighboring building. An enormous satisfaction invaded him. He collected as much money as he could, managing to raise two months of rent for the apartment in front of yours. That would be enough until he would bring you to his feet, and then he would move in with you living together as a normal couple. The man who owns the building was surprised by the persistent attitude of the young man in renting a specific apartment. But he quickly forgot about it when he saw the money in his hand.

"I hope you are not bothered by the noises, the walls are thin and there could be problems with that." The owner babbled, explaining and talking about things that honestly didn't matter to him as long as he could be around you.

Jungkook watched your apartment from the window, the window looked directly into your room. He felt a smile grow on his face, he could see your perfectly arranged bed and the products on your dressing table. Mentally he wrote down all the marks, he had become obsessed with your smell. Wanting to imitate everything about you as much as possible, he even followed you to the mall to see where you always bought your clothes. He began to wear the same brand of clothing, the same style and in the same way, your personal things. Like your skincare products, even your lipstick.

Their love had now turned into a sinister game of catching the helpless mouse. He followed you day and night, it was only a matter of time before you were at his feet begging not to be eaten by the evil cat.

You never liked the night blanket, you felt that the worst things could happen in the dark of one night. Your steps were hurried, you constantly felt a presence following your weak form knowing that you would do nothing to stop it. You were not capable. You only got to feel calm and let out a sigh when you got to your little house, it was cozy for just one person. You liked it, it had a unique charm. Your shoes fell to the ground, as did your coat and bag. You were exhausted, Taehyung was not the best boss. He seemed to have an obsession with making you run around for coffee or a simple napkin.

Secretly, it was obnoxious.

"You're here, little one ..." a voice whispered, watching you from a camera lens.

I had bought a whole spy gear, between cameras, lenses and more just to see you, possibly to take some photos as a souvenir as well. Jungkook smiled, biting his lip impatiently. He had arrived at his department at the same time as you, but his work was not finished yet, not until you lay on your bed turning off the light and preventing him from seeing you any longer. "Good girl." His eyes never left your figure, the first garment fell to the ground.

You had a habit of going straight to the bathroom to relax for a few minutes after a tiring day. You were not yet aware that dark brown eyes were watching you from afar. Jungkook had adorable eyes according to many, they were like those of a defenseless and tender deer, but they would surely change their opinion if they knew what he does and sees with them.

"_____..." Your name left his lips in a moan, his face heated feeling his cock grow slowly at the sight of your naked body so exciting, you walked to the bathroom, losing his sight. But his imagination did the rest.

He sat in front of his camera, pulling down his pants along with his boxer shorts releasing his cock that rose proudly, crashing against his stomach. The presemen came out of his reddened tip, he moved his hand using it as a lubricant to be able to touch himself, imagining that you were looking at him too, calling him and begging him to come to your house to be able to fuck you in your bed. Your neighbors probably wouldn't like the noise. But I would still screw you so they can hear who made you feel good. Who you belonged to.

Just those thoughts was enough for him to come all over his hand, staining his stomach and part of the ground. His chest rose and fell with a laugh. It sure was pathetic.

But now I felt like I had some kind of power over you. Maybe it was always like that, you were his from the day you greeted him for the first time. He refused to think that you could see him cheated on with his boss. It was ridiculous, you clearly loved him.

So, for Jungkook you were his lovers in body and soul.

He could and had the power to do whatever he wanted with you. Taehyung walked in front of him, but for the first time in two years he didn't feel happy or euphoric to see him, and less excited.

He also didn't feel different when he called him into his office.

"Sit down Mr. Jeon, I have some business to attend to with you."

He obeyed immediately, realizing that even he had a power over his weak form. No one was superior to the great Taehyung.

Ironically. He likes irony.

"Lately I was going through the files of my employees and noticed something very unique." He spoke fully focused on his speech, Jungkook felt uncomfortable under his dark and empty gaze. "You have been working here for more than two years without taking a vacation or leaving your position something very exceptional and admirable. Thank you very much for your commitment to us, Mr. Jeon."

A sigh left his lips, he wondered vaguely why his breathing seemed to fail thinking that they could fire him. That would be terribly chaotic, it could not be close to you if it were to be roofed by the company.

It was a relief for him and a condemnation for you.

"It really isn't important, Chief Kim. I will continue to do my job fervently and do my best." He responded with a smile and a bow, trying to get out as soon as possible. He wanted to see you and Taehyung was starting to make him more nervous than usual, he felt that characteristic feeling of having damn butterflies fluttering in his stomach.

He felt like vomiting.

"That seems incredible to me, I would like to celebrate your great achievements. You think if after work, I can buy you a... a drink." He offered remarkably animated.

Funny, he had never been interested in doing that even when Jungkook followed him around like a puppy seeking approval. Did change something now? "I think it would be fair."

Everyone fully says that Lucifer is a man, Eve was very tempted by the apple of sin ...

"I would be delighted, only if I can bring one more person. He is someone important to me, and I would like him to celebrate in the same way." Jungkook smiled, he was delighted.

Taehyung looked surprised, genuinely surprised. But still, he managed to maintain his composure. "Of course, it would be a pleasure to meet that special person to you. You can go now."

Jungkook nodded, giving another bow and walking patiently to the door.

Taehyung watched his figure get lost, he felt strangely curious. He had never seen Jungkook interested in anything other than his job. However, now he spoke of someone special in his life. He frowned, searching his desk for the keys to his drawer hidden from anyone.

It was a bit personal.

He opened it, taking out the only thing inside. A red letter, the envelope was charming and eye-catching. He remembered it just like that day, Jungkook kneeling on the floor of his office where silence reigned. I knew that little Jeon waited for everyone to leave so he could confess, he said nothing at all, his gaze on the ground and his hands held the letter in the air hoping that he would take it.

He never read it.

But he knew it was a confession of his unforgivable love, that Jungkook would think he could fire him for something so heinous. But it was never necessary, he never read the letter so there was never a mistake on anyone's part. But now he was curious.

Maybe jealousy, he wanted to have power over everyone within his company and if a puppet left his strings, it would be like losing power over everyone.

He was lost so much in his misery that he did not notice that you had entered without permission, you were in a hurry because he answered a call from an investor from China that you could not wait for him to answer.

"Mr. Kim, you have a call ..."

Business dinners were boring for you, you knew it was just a stupid look covering up a night in a restaurant where they met to drink as much alcohol as they could. Especially men, according to your criteria. You didn't feel comfortable being the third person on a date between a boss and an important employee. However, I politely accept Mr. Jeon's invitation.

You looked for the table, where dinner and a toast to all the achievements of the aforementioned was supposed to take place. It was one number in particular, table 69.

"Miss _____..." Jungkook was the first to get up from his place to say hello. Taehyung stayed still in his seat, not even looking up from his wine glass. "Have a seat please welcome."

You felt uncomfortable, again. You were the third wheel on a date of two, to say you were a hindrance was to be a joker. Your chair was closer to Jungkook, as if your boss wanted not to be near you by mistake.

"Do you want to order something? Some wine?" Jungkook seemed strangely nervous, as well as attentive to any of your movements.

As if he were afraid of something certainly improbable.

"A-water is fine, thanks." You whisper overwhelmed by so much attention from one person. His hands seemed to shake as he got up from his seat running to bring your precious order.

Taehyung looked at everything with skeptical eyes. He was an observer. His gaze fell on your clothes, you weren't necessarily wearing something revealing or provocative to have so much attention from his former platonic lovers. You were dressed in a black skirt, a honey colored blouse and a white scarf along with some black shoes. You looked comfortable with your clothes, but quite the opposite with the situation and the environment.

Jungkook was dumb. Very silly, he thought, reading your thoughts. You clearly weren't interested in him and still, he was struggling to get your approval as if you were better than Taehyung.

Did you even think about what you were so valuable?

Your name left his lips, drawing your attention right away. "Bored?" His question surprised you, perhaps he was more than observant.

"No, no ..." You reply nervously, waving your hands in the air to give yourself more credibility. "I just think I'm not the most appropriate person to take this place at this dinner. It's weird."

"I get it. You are nobody, just an employee trying to do your job ... not impressive, by the way." Your face was distorted, you were not the most correct person in a matter of manners but you were sure that that was completely offensive and rude. Your inner voice whispered for you to leave, it wasn't worth it. "You are free to go, I will tell Mr. Jeon that you felt bad and had an emergency."

Doubt grew within you. Right now you felt that everything that came out of his mouth was trying to attack you and hurt you in some way. You frowned, refusing to indulge in his game. To say that Taehyung was surprised was an understatement.

"I'm fine, but thank you Mr. Kim."

"Listen damned-..."

Jungkook returned to his place sitting next to you, Taehyung closed his mouth automatically fearing the worst of him. The glass of crystal clear water sat in front of you, it seemed as if it had searched for simple water for days when only a few minutes passed. He looked eager for you to bring him to your lips and drink from something brought by him.

It was terrifying.

Your hand refused to take the glass, your conscience screamed uncontrollably for you to drop it on the floor pretending to have an accident. It was a horribly euphoric feeling. When the water wet your tongue you felt dizzy, your nerves calmed down noticeably.

It was just water.

Jungkook kept smiling the entire dinner, talking about things you honestly didn't understand. It was as if he and Taehyung had a special language to speak to each other, one in which you weren't welcome.

"It feels good?" Your vision became blurry, you had drunk half a glass of wine but your head felt like a whirlpool. Strangely familiar. Your mouth suddenly felt dry, your breath failed and your eyes surrendered.

Jungkook screamed in horror when your body fell to the ground, Taehyung smugly watched as the people around you tried to get up scared by your state. He did not care much about me, nor did it affect him that Jungkook went with you to a hospital. He just sat there, finishing his glass of wine and his special dish. Curious eyes watched them intrigued.

A truly unique man.

Your head rested calmly on his shoulder, he finally smiled away from the pressure of the people in the restaurant. You seemed so peaceful with your steady breathing and calm rhythm, you were so close to him that he was afraid he couldn't wait until he got to his new home. The man who was driving observed in the rear-view mirror, they seemed like a very calm couple and it certainly created a chilling sensation as the young man sitting in his car touched your face as if he feared breaking you by accident. On cold nights like these, he preferred not to ask any questions of his clandestine and unknown clients, but he would always take that doubt about who he helped to escape his own problems.

The room specially chosen by him was decorated, every detail seemed to reflect your darkest tastes and those that everyone knew. It was beautifully scary like the books and pillow was a replica of what you always wanted. Jungkook was proud to have been able to get everything, his bank account was now just zeroes. He learned how useful money was if you saved enough, he hated people who used it without knowing or measuring what it might be worth later.

Your body fell on the giant bed, the sheets were soft and honey color like your blouse. Jungkook knew that you liked colors that will make you relax but you had no preference for one in particular. His curious eyes glowed in the dark, his hands daringly touched your body without fear of being rejected because you simply couldn't do it.

"You are mine, now." He whispered, his voice mingling with the silent screams of the night. The moon was shining hungrily illuminating the room, but not enough to impede what was impossible to stop. "Sleep, sleep a lot. I could wait for you forever."

His promises remained in the air and on deaf ears. With selfishness in his heart, he rose above you positioning himself above you allowing his face to fall on your neck where he sipped from your charming scent that tempted him to follow. Your legs were side by side on his hips, he brought his body closer to yours. He couldn't bear to go on pretending to be the good guy, he was the only one.

"Please do not leave me..."

His sobs were trapped between the four walls, he was sick. He begged for forgiveness. Mercy he did not deserve. I was hoping that you could see him again directly as always, with a smile and your soft voice wishing him a good morning.

His calm, gentle kisses turned desperate, angry, and somewhat cruel. Leaving exaggerated marks all over your body, I wish it long ago. However, he was never heard.

Now he had what he wanted.

He felt complete by your side. His parents loved him as if they depended on their love, but they were certainly false in his head. Jungkook happily recalled how they prevented him from using his own money, how they seemed to put walls in front of him to prevent him from going to live alone, and how they rejected that he was in love with someone of the same gender.

His father called it disgusting and a shame, his mother was silent crying in his hands covering her grief.

Their bodies were never discovered. The police felt useless in front of their eyes, they apologized for their incompetence. They had fallen off a bridge where they always went to pray, where Jungkook knew they were asking for forgiveness and then committing the same sins again.

He planned his move cunningly, moving his pieces one by one.

He amused himself like a child killing a pawn of his competition.

He made an account of his crimes, his parents, Taehyung's best friend who was the harmless Park Jimin, his boss's former secretary who after being fired was strangely run over by a car that was never discovered, also remembers your insolent neighbor who seemed to enjoy stalking you, Jungkook remembers how I completely hate him. His hands on her neck made it clear when she hated him, he was disgusting.

He applauded happily, he felt very good about himself seeing that he made up his mind about so many people who for him were a plague in this world. It was like a child receiving a gift, his hands took the pen on his desk writing the last name on his list for now. Red ink stained the paper, a smile invaded his face.

𝓚𝓲𝓶 𝓣𝓪𝓮𝓱𝔂𝓾𝓷𝓰.

A gasp left his lips watching your figure move on the bed, he got up from his seat to watch you wake up. You looked so innocent, but now you were stained.

You carried her future child within you, he tried very hard to get you pregnant. You never noticed how he always managed to put powdered sleeping pills in your food every night since he got tired of just looking at you. Then he only had to enter your house like a ghost, his moans of pleasure were silent as he collided with you, fucking you hard with the thought and idea that you would carry his son in your womb.

So, you would never want to leave.

You will learn to love the monotony of being the wife and mother of Jeon Jungkook's son.

After all, he was never a fool.

[the-slasher-files]

Affection

INCLUDES MICHAEL 

I have gotten a few different requests for a softer more affectionate side of Michael so I decided to put them together and create this, a longer (almost 2k words) descriptive drabble about showering with Michael. All this talk about getting Michael to shower and what his hygiene is like had me thinking lol... Now this is deeply inspired by @slasherholic and their writing style, of course I made it my own but it is defiantly a nod to them :) Thank you for your asks and requests!.. hope you enjoy 🔪💕

MASTERLIST

There was a sting on your cool soft skin as you stepped into the blazing stream, raining down from the old head above. Through gritted teeth you bared your head back allowing the water to soak you, down your hair, trailing every muscle in your shoulders and back. Burning your flesh with a pleasent tingle from the contrast of temperatures as you had just been outside on a walk, the autumn wind was sharp kissing your face and seeping into your bones. Closing your eyes you calmed completely around the hot water, tension ebbed from your muscles and your jaw; it had been a long day, and you could not have needed this more. 

Steam flowed off your skin and out the top of the curtain like soft clouds, painting the mirror and sweating on the tiles, finally reaching the cracked door and seemingly disappearing into the night. Soft hands ran through your hair pushing away the water along the edges of your face, pooling beneath your feet and draining with quiet gurgles. 

The placid air had suddenly changed as you heard the shower curtain pull along the metal rod, screeching at the force; you did not open your eyes for you knew exactly who it was. The smell of iron, rich dirt and a firm musk coating the air, almost battling with the steam and the fresh smells of your body wash. The curtain superseded it’s own path with the same screech and crinkles, a large, mysterious presence appeared in front of you, out of the steam that seemed to billow around him. 

Opening your eyes you met his; one brown, dark and deep with a slight hint of yellow around the iris, outlined like black ink. The other scarred; a dull shade you could never decide if it was more blue or more grey, it reminded you of a thunderstorm approaching, devouring any bright sky and coating the blue in dark streaks and shadows, while his scar was in the shape of a catastrophic bolt of lighting, forking and brutally tearing through the iris; Much like the shape, a force of nature, leaving destruction in it’s wake.

Michael just watched you with a look you could never place, and sometimes you just didn’t want to know what that look meant, it was a mystery, like him; never solvable, never predictable, dangerous, and so beautiful in the hidden detail all at once. Loving this gaze was a curse and a privilege. You were one of the only people who ever got to meet these forceful eyes, see the detail in them and live. Perhaps that was his affection. 

He stood in front of you naked, watching the water run in a thousand streams down your features. Drippling down the ends of your hair into your rosy nipples, cascading down your stomach breaking into different paths; some glistening your sex while others flowed down your legs, meeting every tendon and mark your lover had made. Your eyes watched his as they surveyed the trails of wetness blanketing your smooth skin, it was like he was almost trying to remember where the water flowed and broke away, almost envious of the streams that got to touch you with such care and tenderness. Michael could never do the same. You both knew that, and you had accepted that long ago.

Towering above you he took an easy step forward, making you step back a little allowing him to have some heat from the water as well. Michael’s deep rich curls were now painted black, sticking to his forehead tracing the scars he wore, and now settling easy on his muscular neck. His eyes closed for a moment as you wondered if he had felt just the same soft pleasure of stepping into the torrid flow. The steam had started to make piece with the man and it swelled off his broad toned shoulders like a smoke stack into the cool air.

Michael's angular jaw eased and his shoulders fell ever so slightly; to the normal person they would never notice such subtleties, but you had become trained to watch for the smallest give aways in his body. It was the only indicators he would give you; dropped shoulder were relaxed and he was comfortable, hardened eyes and a slight twitch in his wrist meant nothing good, but over time you became aware. Sometimes too aware, but you had been molded to his liking. This is what he wanted, this was his artistry, a slight fear constantly in your heart right behind the muscle. This was loving Michael and you accepted it through and through.

The vail of his baroness and tension billowed away with the steam, he was at ease, and he allowed you to see this. Perhaps the shape genuinely trusted you, or maybe it was just him knowing you could never do serious damage to his imposing body. Michael was like a brick wall and no matter how many nights you wailed on him or tried to hurt him blood was never drawn, just your own.

Small hands slowly fell upon his shoulders, every movement he watched carefully, but there was not the usual harness to his stoney eyes. Creeping your fingers into his drenched locks, slow circles and light pressure along the top of his neck made him melt inside; and there it was, the trust, he had closed his eyes accepting the pleasure. Feeling the tough muscles under your fingers ease, you moved your hands along the tendons in his thick neck, watching the water flow along your hands and down into the slight dip of his collar bone, then continued to his broad expansive chest where you settled your hands among the pinkish raised scars from bullets and blades. They looked so small compared to him, lifting effortlessly as the muscles rose and fell with each soft breath. You couldn't help but find a trance in the way the water swept down him as well, each trail seemed more interesting than the last. Michael allowed you to look at his details and touch where you wanted, from his smooth chest to the dips in his abs, and the v in his obliques, washing the water with a slight hue of pink from his last kills. This was more than a privilege at this point, you took extreme pride in these extraordinarily rare moments he allowed. You were the only one who could ever touch the shape the way you did, the way he let you. This is how he made you feel good, this was his love.

Was this all a trick? A sick game he liked to play? Toying with you like a lion would before the kill?

Looking up at the towering figure locking eyes, his hands meticulously found home on your waist and slowly he leaned down, blocking the water from you and he met his lips with yours. Michael had kissed you, tenderly, softly. A foreign place he tried desperately to be comfortable in. You moved your lips cautiously with his, waiting for the large forceful hand to grab your neck, or to be pushed against the freezing tiles with blood running down your skull. Your eyes opened trying to see what he was planning but his eyes were closed, and his brow was furrowed seeking the love he knew he couldn't produce.

Blood ran cold in your veins as he pulled away, eyeing you up with a strange softness you never thought was possible. The kiss left you breathless, and your mouth was slightly agape as he took one of his large hands placing it under your jaw, cupping your chin and running a thick thumb along your sweet lips. Carefully you placed your shaky hands on either side of his sharp jaw, holding him as he let his head slack slightly and rest tenderly. It dawned on you that you were practically holding a predator in your hands, the claws were hidden but always still beneath the surface, your heart raced at the thought and you tried to slow your breath as much as you could, not wanting to start the predators chase. In this moment you saw a glint of what looked like pain in Michael’s eyes, if he was even capable of feeling such an emotion, he knew what you thought of him. Tonight all he wanted was to feel like a normal man, he wanted to give you his affection and nothing more, but the task was nearing impossible for him.

Michael started to run his massive hands around even inch of you, gingerly drawing shapes into and around your chest, rough fingers dipped between your breasts and following the water, luring him downward along your stomach, tracing every mark he made on you; from the bruises on your hips to the bites on your thighs, to the long jagged scar he had made on your stomach where his beloved blade sank a little too far into the skin. You were his and that much was clear. 

The shape allowed you to pull his face closer to yours as you placed another kiss to his chapped lips, taking it in more and trusting him with you enough to give into the rare pleasure of the gentleness. Your body so starved of it that when the opportunity presented itself you hesitated deeply. Michael had taught you that a person could be deprived of such needs for a long time and when he gave it to you, you put it in question.

Was it all you ever thought you needed? Was it just an illusion your head fueled? 

Stained crimson fingers that seemed to never be fully clean moved to the back of neck, fingers circling and moving slowly into your hair, Michael mirrored your movements that had put him at ease some minutes ago. His rosy lips left yours and trailed along your jaw, down your neck pausing to feel your pulse, and nipping at the tender flesh of your collar bone, pulling drawn out moans of pleasure you delicately webbed your fingers into his hair. Every touch, lick and nip put you into a blissful haze, forgetting where you were and blocking out the sound of the water spitting and gurgling, Michael was the only thing that mattered in this moment, and the world was lost. 

His wandering hands had now moved to your hips again, his lips were gone and Michael had you turn around, not to look at him any longer, just hot rhythmic breathing leaving your skin numb. Slowly his gentleness was failing him, urges and twisted thoughts were beginning to hound him like a pack of coyotes howling from the ridgeline hidden in the shadows. Your euphoria coating too thickly to see this, you just stood in the current, eyes closed and body relaxed, there were a few more strokes of your back muscles and stolen kisses to your neck before he was gone.  

Michael had left silently like the shape he was. Gone into the night that called him. Where he belonged. Free. A tortuous beauty that made you ache. The rare moment of affection was gone, burned away by the steam and lost hopes. Michael was just a force, a shadow that could and will never be tamed. Haunting people and leaving destruction behind. Just like his knife the pain you felt of his absence was sharp and cold amongst the scolding flow.

This was loving him. This was his affection.  

[catzula]

Taming the fox

a/n: self projecting? I think yes 🤩 (listen I dont kin atsumu but i kin him so hard) anyway, this is a lil drabble to show some love at the blond twin

(also this is a repost but,,, the tags didn't work so yup)

Warnings and honorable mentions: dives into anxiety, sadness, inferiority complex and stuff, gn reader, mostly Atsumu based anyway, genre is fluff i think, wc < 1000 (this is meant as a lil drabble I wrote in one sitting, didn't think much on it so lets be nice, yeah?)

Atsumu isn't perfect. He knows this, and even if he hadn't, he has heard it many times, too.

But he works hard to fix it, and that's all that matters, at least it is for you. And ever since Atsumu met you, that's enough for him. It's such a weird feeling, especially for someone as greedy as him, Atsumu feels like it's enough, and the person providing this is... one person?

He is greedy, he admits. Atsumu wants more, more and more from life, and nothing seems to, seemed to, make him feel fulfilled.

But here you are, you have him between your arms, fingers combing through his golden locks. Your eyes are closed as you calm him, suppressing the shake of his shoulders with your own body.

People often can't believe you are dating, that you are in love. You are such opposing characters that it shocks people to see you talking, even.

They are partly right, too. You and Atsumu are polar opposites. He's a fox, a wild one at that, too, and most people know foxes can't be tamed. Not if they don't want to. But ever since meeting you, Atsumu finds, he wants to be tamed, he wants to fit you, to make you happy. If having to change his nature is what it takes, Atsumu is ready to take that challenge.

It's ironic, unbelievable how you don't want him to change, though.

He would have laughed if anyone told him maybe months ago he would feel this way. He's had some relationships in the past, none that lasted, none that mattered. He fooled around, broke hearts, got his heart broken once or twice. But he couldn't settle for the life of him, didn't value anything, anyone, but himself.

People always approached him in hopes of fixing him, some with wanting to pride themselves on how they tamed the infamous wild fox, and some were curious as to see if they were capable enough.

Atsumu hated, despised how people thought of him as a challenge and nothing more, and he set his mind to change not one thing about himself as a result. This seemed to do more harm than good.

People got frustrated, mad at him for being who he was- they got harder, bolder, brutal at the ways they approached him.

Atsumu can't count all the times he heard the words I hate you in relationships. "I hate you, I hate you, I hate you." Atsumu heard all that and more one too many times. It never helped the cause, either, since the more those words got spat in his face, the more he closed himself to change.

With the constant nitpicking on his behavior, his character- Atsumu felt he offended people just by existing. It's such a heavy burden to carry, and even though involuntarily, Atsumu was showing he couldn't take it, too.

You could still remember your first days as a manager in Inarizaki, how different Atsumu was when he first met you. He seemed so jittery, so angry, so anxious, and cocky (probably due to the feeling of inferiority) all the time. Having a twin didn't help, either.

You could still remember the chills that ran through your body as you witnessed him serve on a match for the first time.

The warm brown eyes of his you adore so much looked so cold, almost muddy. You remembered feeling scared, not for yourself, but him. He reminded you of a wounded animal.

It took time, so much time, and too much patience to pull him out of that haze. A wounded animal, especially one that was hurt by people, can't trust people back easily. But somehow, you pulled it off. Somehow, you knew that all he needed was compassion, understanding, acceptance.

Atsumu isn't perfect. He knows he still has a lot to work on, to fix about himself. He still feels scared, scared of hearing those three words from your lips, scared that

you will leave him, scared he's not good enough, he never will be.

But isn't that why he's now between your arms, surrounded by your embrace, crying?

He knows he has too much to fix, but you taught him he can take his time with it. Baby steps are still small steps to achieving it.

People think foxes can't be tamed, and they're right about it being hard, but you're the first to notice, that all it takes is just a little compassion.

[scorpionyx9621]

I Hope Hopeless Changes Over Time: A Red Hood and Batman Fic

*Source of the image I found off of Pintrest. I tried to find the original artist but the link on Pintrest led to a dead Tumblr account. If anyone wants to find/point out the account to me so I can give proper credit to the artist please please do.*

I wanted to make a fic based on an ask I did from the lovely @dilfbatman about Jason and Bruce. I hope people enjoy this mini-fic that I've expanded upon.

TW: Blood, Physical Assault, Suicide Ideation, Swearing. Bruce being a shitty father but trying. Jason having demons 

3.75K words. 

Bruce was uneasy about Jason staying over at the Wayne Mansion. Even with other members of the family around. Jason has done so much wrong and has hurt so many people. However, at the end of the day, Jason still is his son. So when he gets a call from Jason in a hushed voice asking Bruce to stay the night. He hesitated for a second, but acquiesced, Jason was nothing if not independent, so to be asking Bruce outright to stay at the Wayne Manor meant something was wrong.

"Master Jason wouldn't reach out to any of us unless something was gravely wrong, Master Wayne." Alfred had reassured Bruce, who was staring absentmindedly at the glass case which housed Jason's old Robin costume. The costume that Jason had died in. Bruce always tried to repress the memory of holding his son's cold, lifeless body. The pain he felt from losing his parents burned in his heart as an everlasting stab wound. But the pain from losing Jason, his son, it was too much to bare.

"I'd be welcoming to Master Jason, but keep your distance. Master Damian is spending the night at Jon Kent's house, Master Richard is in Blüdhaven, and Master Timothy is with the Teen Titans tonight. I'll rest assured Jason doesn't try anything to harm you. But don't try to encourage a confrontation." Alfred explained. He always seemed to understand Jason to a tee after he came back to life.

"I don't know how you do it Alfred, you can read the boy like a book." Bruce had retorted. Cocking a half-smile to the man who raised him since his parents died.

"Master Wayne, Master Jason wears his heart on his sleeve. He always has. And one of the reasons why you two fight constantly is because, for as terrific as a detective you are, you are horrifically inept in reading the emotions of your children." Alfred had stated, those words bit Bruce. He wasn't expecting such sharp words from Alfred. "We failed Master Jason. And he's hurt, he's been hurt for years because of it. However he keeps choosing to come back and try and trust again. We needn't come at him with accusations of ulterior motives, but we should be supportive." Alfred stated.

"But cognizant of what Jason is capable of." Bruce added back. Jason may need help, but he's still dangerous. He has tried to kill Bruce and the rest of the Robins multiple times. He wants to trust Jason and warm up to him again. But the man who wears the Red Hood and stalks the streets of Gotham killing those he deems criminals is not his son anymore.

Alfred and Bruce greeted Jason as he walked in the large double doors of the Wayne Manor. The first thing Bruce noticed was the dark circles under Jason's eyes. It seemed as if the man hadn't slept in days. Jason was wearing sweatpants and a fitted black wife beater, accentuating his muscles. Jason would have looked more intimidating had his body language not suggested he was as disheveled as he was, physically and mentally.

"Thanks Alfred." Jason had said meekly towards the butler. He took one step into the mansion and looked at Bruce. Bruce noticed as soon as Jason's eyes met his, his tired irises contorted into anger. His lips pursed downwards but Jason chose not to say anything. Instead just walking past Bruce pretending not to acknowledge him.

"Master Jason, you will be staying in the guest suite on the main floor. I've already prepped everything for your arrival. Please make yourself at home." Alfred had said. Jason just shook is head as he headed towards the hallway leading the guest suite. Bruce didn't notice it immediately but the stench Jason had emitted stung in the air. It smelled like stale liqour and body oder. It seems Jason hadn't bathed in days. Bruce had wanted to say something but chose not to.

The evening went by quietly enough. Jason had taken a shower and changed into another fitted wife beater but still sported a tired energy about him. Alfred had put together a beef pot roast for dinner with red potatoes, carrots, onions, and celery over garlic mashed potatoes. A favorite dish of Jason's. The three of them ate quietly as Bruce continued to size up his son. He was conflicted. At one point he saw the man who blew up the head of a Gotham security force member with a torture decide he had created. On the other hand, he saw the boy who would beg for Bruce to buy him more books after he finished the maximum amount a library card would allow for a week in the span of 3 days. The son who told him being Robin gave him magic.

The dinner ended as it began. With awkward silence and the father-son duo eyeing each other. One with cautious trepidation and the other with abject hate. Bruce had decided not to go on patrol tonight as he felt he needed to be at the manor should anything happen while Jason was here. An uneasy sense of dread built over Bruce as he had said good night to Jason as the two passed by each other in the halls. Jason simply spat 'Bitch' at Bruce and walked into the bedroom. Bruce had been bad with other people's emotions, but something didn't sit right with the way Jason was carrying himself. He had decided to stay up tonight regardless. A sense came over him after being sworn at by Jason. A sense he hadn't felt in a long time. He felt as though his son needed help.

————————————————————

"You're a monster"

"Jason is a murderer"

"Stay away from Jason, he'll kill you."

"No one wants you around, Todd"

"You're just a good guy trying to be bad"

"This is the kid you had to replace me with as Robin? Bruce he's pathetic."

"I can't believe my daughter wasted the Lazarus Pit on a miserable failure like you."

"Maybe I'd be better off dead"

Jason tossed and turned. It's been days. He couldn't get the voices out of his head. Those whispery, moany voices that taunted and tormented him. He knew it was a result of the Lazarus Pit. Ever since Roy died and everyone left him the voices started taunting him again. He tried everything he could to get the voices to stop. He drank, he read, he worked out, he did everything he could. The only way the voices became quiet were when he was beating the ever-loving shit out of some criminals. This was not the mindset Jason had wanted. He wanted to go back to being supported by Bruce, the man who betrayed him. He knew that Bruce was weak. He couldn’t kill the Joker because of his weakness. 

Jason got up and walked over to the connecting bathroom to the suite that he was staying in. He went to the sink and splashed some cold water on his face. Against his better judgement, Jason looked up to the figure he saw in the mirror. He took note of his jawline, his face, his green eyes, his muscles.. but one thing that caught his eye was the fucking skunk streak of hair at the top of his head. The physical reminder of his dip in the Lazarus Pit. He had just re-dyed the spot not two days ago and it already came back. He did everything he could to try to hide the streak. It’s what he hated most about his new body. The pit wiped away all of the scars he had on his body. And any new fresh scar or wound would just fade in a matter of moments due to the effects of the pit. The only thing that ever stayed was that damned streak. 

Jason had nothing but disgust and contempt for the man he saw in the mirror, which, ironically, was himself. 

“You’re just using the sarcasm to hide your hatred.” 

“It’s your fault that everyone hates you.” 

“Killing the sick of the masses to save those who are weak is your calling” 

“Those reptiles deserve to die” 

“I don’t want to kill unless I don’t have to.. I don’t want people to hate me..” Jason tried reassuring himself. The voices in his head kept getting louder and louder. “I want Bruce and everyone to love me again....” He continued to try to re-assure himself. It was a false sense of hope as always. His mind soon wandered to a moment where he was on top of Dick in a fight. Confronting his older sibling and reciting a quote he had heard from a Japanese philosopher and optimist as he had the barrel of a gun placed against his older brother’s temple. 

“Do you know what the most convenient phrase in the world is, Dickie? It’s ‘I’m sorry.’ Anyone who hears that is obligated to forgive, no matter how hurt or angry they might be... There's no more disgusting phrase in all the world. It's used to displace your suffering unto others so you can escape your sins... The moment you employ it, your suffering becomes the other person's. A thing can be unforgivable, but oh, if they apologize... I say there's no reason to accept that suffering. You don't have to forgive them. Cast aside the mask of your conscience.“ 

“Stop this. Please stop this.” Jason had begged aimlessly into the air. He didn’t want to live like this anymore. He didn’t want to live, period. He just wanted all of this to end. He had caused so much pain and so much suffering to the people of Gotham all so he could attempt to hurt Bruce. But those words kept repeating in his head. He knew he had to stop this. He needed help, he wanted to go to Bruce and explain what was going on but Bruce would just have him institutionalized. His murderer of a son starts hearing voices in his head? A one way ticket to a padded room. 

Jason suddenly stared back into the mirror and saw something he detested. The green eyes that stared into his soul. The one he hated more than anything else. Was himself. This thing was staring him in the face mocking him, and he wanted it gone. 

“Do it Jason.” the voice had beckoned from the mirror. “Kill them all. Slit Damian’s throat and watch the fucker bleed. Bash Tim’s stupid face into the concrete until there’s nothing but mush. Rip Dick limb from fucking limb. Watch Bruce as you choke the last bit of life from his eyes. I promise all the pain will go away once all of this is done.” the voice sounded almost sweet as it promised to do all of this. Jason just retched as he saw the green eyed monster promising poison to him. He felt his vision fade to black. 

------------------------------------------------------------------

STOP IT. SHUT. UP. 

*CRASH* 

Bruce had jumped up from the chair he was sitting on in the library, the voice came from the suite that Jason was staying in. Bruce didn’t have time to think. He just ran towards the noise. He threw the door to the suite open and ran to the bathroom. There he saw Jason in front of a heavily cracked mirror. Jason was hyperventilating and he saw blood oozing from Jason’s fist which was pressed against the mirror. Bruce saw from the reflection that Jason had split open the left side of his lip seemingly from a shard of glass. It wasn’t long before Jason glanced up at the imposing shadow in the mirror and noticed Bruce’s presence. 

“YOU STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME BRUCE.” Jason had shouted at his reflection. Jason was shaking. Bruce had wanted to assess the injury that Jason gave himself. But he knew he was cornering a scared animal if he pressed any farther forward. Bruce stood their frozen. Pondering between trying to press forward upon a killer, or to check up on his son. 

“Jason, I just...” Bruce was cut off by another scream as Jason turned around. 

“IF YOU COME ANY CLOSER I SWEAR TO GOD I WILL KILL YOU WHERE YOU FUCKING STAND YOU PIECE OF SHIT.” Bruce finally got the cue. The hitch in Jason’s voice. This is the same hitch his voice made when he was a kid and was angry at Bruce. Alfred was right. This is his son. And right now Bruce needed not to be the Batman approaching the Red Hood. He needed to be Bruce, to help his son. 

Bruce walked forward to Jason, still shaking as blood oozed from the gashes of glass on his fist. Bruce decided against everything in his gut telling him to stop this criminal. This monster who killed for sport and to prove a point. He needed to help Jason, his son. 

Bruce was knocked back by a fist to his chest. Glass imbedded itself into Bruce as he felt the sting of their shards. Jason was right, he was going to hurt Bruce if he approached. Oracle was right, Jason had been abusing venom. The quick gain in muscle mass was proof enough but the stinging pain in Bruce’s chest also proved that hypothesis. Jason barred his teeth as his eyes displayed a seething hatred. Bruce would have been frightened on any other day. Today, Bruce felt a feeling he hadn’t felt in a long time. Bruce collected himself and got up to approach Jason again. 

“I TOLD YOU I’M GOING TO KILL YOU BRUCE. I FUCKING HATE YOUR GUTS. I WANT YOU TO DIE. I WANT ALL OF US TO JUST FUCKING DIE.” Jason screamed even louder this time. A hot stream of tears worked their way down Jason’s cheeks. Bruce no longer saw a rage-induced monster but the boy who took a tire iron to his gut on the streets of Gotham. The boy who would was thrilled at every opportunity he got to show Bruce the A’s on every test he got in school. This was his baby boy who needed his help. 

“Jason Peter Todd that’s enough.” Bruce said firmly, but not harshly. Jason stared directly into his eyes. “Jason. I want you to listen to me.” 

“Go to hell you motherfucker.” those words which escaped Jason were laced with poison. Bruce didn’t waver. 

“You can punch me as much as you want Jason and I’ll deserve all of it.” Bruce came closer to Jason. Jason proceeded to physically make himself smaller. Like a scared animal. Bruce remember what he did to Jason after he had seemingly killed The Penguin. How he beat Jason to within an inch of his life. His heart plummeted to his stomach as he saw Jason cower like a scared dog over his approach. 

“What are you going to do Bruce, beat me to a fucking pulp again? You hate me more than you hate the fucking Joker, don’t you?” Jason asked. Bruce truly saw the fear in those green eyes. He had to take a moment and realized just what he was doing. He unclenched his jaw and relaxed his shoulders as he approached Jason. This time he was back within striking range of his son. 

“Jason. I failed you. I have been failing you for the past 10 years since your death. I have failed this city and this family in providing the protection it needs. I couldn’t kill The Joker because I’m weak.” Bruce sucked at emotions and emoting. But Bruce hadn’t felt this shaky and wavering since the day he lost Jason. His son needed to know the truth. He deserved to know the truth. “Jason I never hated you. I hated the actions you have taken against the people of this city. But I’ve come to realize that the hatred and contempt I’ve held is because you do what I can’t do.” 

“Oh so now you’re coming over to apologize? I don’t owe you shit after what you’ve done to me.” Jason had stated. He may have been acting like a pinned animal. But his mouth will never not cut like knives. 

“Jason, when we had fought in the abandoned apartment. And you had the Joker with you. You had tried to shoot me after I had turned away from you.” Bruce said. Inching ever closer to Jason while trying not to be imposing. “In that moment, I threw the batarang because I knew you were going to retaliate against me. But I need you to know in that moment I turned away. I turned away because I decided I wasn’t to be the one to decide the Joker’s fate. He had taken your life and it wasn’t up to me to decide. I want nothing more than for the Joker to pay for the countless lives hes taken and ruined.” Bruce swallowed hard as he felt tears beginning to well in his eyes. “I failed you because I couldn’t kill the Joker. But in that moment, I wanted nothing more than to have my baby boy back. I wanted you back in my life. I still want you back in my life.” 

“Bullshit. Fucking BULLSHIT.” Jason spat at Bruce. The emotions were flooding out of his face. Anger, hatred, fear, but most of all sadness. Jason’s voice began wavering as he began to cry. “If you loved me why in the fuck have you never realized I’ve been trying to help the people of Gotham. Instead every time I take matters into my own hands all I meet are your fucking fists. I hate your guts Bruce. We’d all just be better off fucking dead. It’s all Hopeless. I’m hopeless.” 

Bruce took a deep breath. He tried to find his resolve. He wanted nothing more than to be able to reach out to his son again. “You’re absolutely right Jason. I’ll bet Gotham would be a whole lot better without me. Without the pain I have caused. And no amount of apologies will fix the pain that I have caused you. No words will ever take back the transgressions I have taken against you.” Bruce was crying this time. “But know this. You always have been my son. And I love you so much. The day I lost my parents was agony. The day I lost you, I felt like I had lost myself I felt I had died a bit inside.” Bruce choked out. “We both have done so much we regret. If I could take back all the times I hit you I would do it in a heartbeat. But no amount of sorry will take back that pain. I shouldn’t be in the position to be asking this. But I just want my son back.” Bruce swallowed. “You have every right to hate me, but I will never stop loving you. You aren’t hopeless and you never have been. You never have been a burden. You are valued by so many people. I. I love you my son. I love you Jason."

Jason’s face relaxed from a position of contempt and hatred and soon was overcome with years of pent up tears. Jason let out a hearty scream as he proceeded to weep and sob. As if a dam had broke and was threatening to engulf a town in an apocalypse. Bruce went against everything he had known and was screaming from the inside of his body and wrapped Jason in a hug. He was almost as large as Bruce himself and barely fit around his arms. But Bruce held his son and hugged him tight. Jason was crying uncontrollably. 

“I’m hearing these voices. They’re telling me I’m a monster and a killer and that I should kill all of you.” Jason shouted between sobs. “But I don’t want to. I’m so afraid Bruce. I don’t want to hurt anyone unless I have to.” 

“Just breath Jason. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. Let it all out.” Bruce had solidified his resolve and worked on being there for Jason. He couldn’t run away this time. His son needed him more than ever. And Gotham be damned. He’s not making this mistake twice. He’s staying here. For Jason. 

It felt like hours before Jason had run out of tears and sobs. Jason was fading and seemed like he was about to fall asleep. The shards of glass that were imbedded in his hand seemingly prevented Jason from bleeding out. Bruce had saw Jason’s eyes glaze over as his breathing calmed. 

“Jason, I’m going to pick you up and take you to bed.” Bruce had said, asking for permission from his second son. Jason simply nodded as he starred off. He was numb now. The pain seemingly gone for the moment. Bruce lifted Jason up and was taken aback by just how heavy his son was. He truly was 225lbs just like his records showed. This wasn’t the son who hid under the cabinets when Bruce first brought Jason home. But Bruce still saw the boy as his son nonetheless. As Bruce laid Jason on the bed Alfred had approached with a first aid kit. Proceeding to begin to clean up Jason’s hand. Jason was so exhausted he barely felt any of the picking and pulling or the iodine going into his wounds. He kept his eyes fast forward on Bruce. 

“Bruce. I. I’m sorry.” Jason had said meekly. 

“Don’t apologize Jason.” Bruce had stated. He ran his hand through Jason’s hair, giving a soft massage to his scalp. “You get some sleep now. I don’t think you’ve rested in days.” 

Bruce had remembered the time he had read Jason to sleep. This time he had thought back to a poem that struck him from his phone. It was from a famous lyricist and singer. As Bruce pulled up his phone he had found the poem and recited it as Jason fell asleep. Things are far from perfect or even better. But tomorrow was going to be the first day of the rest of his and Jason’s lives. 

“They told me once, ‘there's a place where love conquers all’

A city with the streets full of milk and honey

I haven't found it yet, but I'm still searching

All I know is a hopeless place that flows with the blood of my kin

Perhaps hopeless isn't a place

Nothing but a state of mind” 

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pHEW GOD THAT WAS LONG. I hope you all enjoyed the fic! This was my first published attempt at angst and whump and while I feel some parts are cringe. I am proud of what I made. 

Big thanks again to @dilfbatman for inspiring this fic. The inspiration of the title is the song Hopeless: by Halsey. The quote about I’m Sorry is from the character Shadow Maya Amano from Persona 2: Innocent Sin. And the poem at the end is the first part of the lyrics to the song Good Mourning by Halsey. 

[roselen-mylady]

In Another Life

Bucky Barnes x reader °part fourteen°

Summary: Waiting 88 years to find your soulmate? It was cruel. But it was a cruel fate Bucky would have to face whether he accepted it or not. Bucky was a tortured man all his life and he wasn't even granted the solace of having his soulmate at his side. All he had was the promise of one in another life. They were separated by two different times.

But the pain in their lives were connected.

Y/n had been alone ever since she could remember. All she could depend on was the soulmate that was destined to be at her side. Yet when the snap occured she lost him.

And Bucky never got to meet her.

"It's called Recover and Enable with Stark Technologies: Opportunity, Revival and Excellence. Or uh, RESTORE for short." Tony explained, the hologram capturing what they all knew to be one of his last days. "Damn, now that I say it aloud, it's a bit pretentious but we'll get used to it." He chuckled, still a little proud of his abbreviation.

"It's a resources company really. Offers financial help to families affected by the snap along with structure and aid to businesses, cooperations, hell even the government. They've always had their heads up their asses though." Y/n listened carefully, her heart stinging a bit more than usual. Maybe it was from watching yet another message from her idol and lost friend.

"It comes along with therapy and counseling. Really it's supposed to help piece the world back together. You should feel right at home. It was that aspect that told me you'd be perfect for the job. I'm sure I can help you with the other parts of the job. Or uh, Pepper will. I was never any good at running a business that was always her thing." Tony smiled fondly, the hologram's eyes seeming to stare straight into Pepper's.

Y/n could tell Pepper was fighting tears. It only made her own guilt grow.

Why did Tony have to die? It wasn't a fair question. Not to her. She should've done more, should've given her life to let him live the rest of his. To see his daughter grow up. To let Pepper finally have peace.

But what if she had? Would Bucky had even known she was his soulmate? Would he have found her body in the rumble, her shattered arm and scarred skin barely visible from the damage of the stones she should've been destroyed by. Would he have had to find out his soulmate had lost the war from her stopped countdown? Would he have had to piece together how close they were to meeting? Would he recover from that?

"We need to start soon," Pepper spoke suddenly, hastily wiping her face as she stood. Y/n watched wide eyed and silent as Pepper paced over to a man she'd learned to be Happy, quietly requesting he watch Morgan. Y/n stood, quickly moving to follow the woman.

She understood what Pepper was doing. She was avoiding the pain, putting all her effort and focus into anything but the death of her husband. Hundreds of people did it after the first snap and she couldn't say she blamed them. But it was different this time. There was no way she could've prevented the first snap, no way she could've saved all of those lives that were now returned.

But the last snap was within arms reach of her. She was capable of stopping it, sparing the last victim of the snap. But she failed.

Maybe Pepper had the right idea. This guilt was overwhelming.

"Tony set up some meetings with other corporations for Monday. I'd like you to be there with me." Pepper told her, her heels rhythmically clicking down the steps as Y/n followed carefully.

"Monday? Doesn't this seem a little rushed? I mean, I don't even know what I'm doing. Shouldn't I have some kind of lessons?" Y/n objected, her brow creasing warily.

"You'll learn through experience." Pepper replied. It was too much, too overwhelming. Y/n had just lost two friends, another left her and she'd met her soulmate. Now they wanted her to run a company that the world would eventually depend on?

How would she even begin?

In an effort to take a breath, she looked away from Pepper, her eyes trailing to the lake. It was peaceful, much more peaceful than Y/n had felt in days-years if she was being honest.

She hoped that after everything that had happened, she could just go back to being normal or as normal as someone like her could be. She didn't care about the hero's life and she didn't want to be Iron Star for any longer than she had to. But as she looked around at the others, she realized that was becoming less and less of a possibility. They looked at her as if she were next.

They seemed to know she was going to be one of them just by looking at her. But why? Because Tony took a chance on her? Because they were so similar? Or was it something else, something she hadn't seen yet?

Suddenly the calm ripples in the water were disturbed with a large splash, sending the area into chaos. A rock had broken the surface of the lake, sinking in the next second. It happened so quick and so subtly that she wasn't sure it'd even happened. The water calmed once more and the rock was lost to the bottom of the lake.

Once finding the source of the rock, her breath hitched.

He was there at the lakeside, pacing with one hand in his pocket while the other rubbed his neck. His head was downcast and he looked stressed, just as stressed as she was. That's when she realized.

He'd just met his soulmate too. After what she guessed to be almost 90 years. Nearly a century without his soulmate. He was just as nervous and overwhelmed. But it didn't mean he wasn't dying to talk to her. She could feel it, his eagerness. The way his heart ached to speak to her again even if only a few words. She wondered if he could feel her own longing.

"I need to do something. I'll be right back." Y/n excused herself, trying to be as polite as she could. She knew Pepper wanted to carry out her husband's last wish as soon as possible but they both knew he wouldn't have meant it like this. Didn't mean to leave them alone to handle it.

Pepper nodded, releasing a sigh. Everything was beginning to weigh down on her and she knew forcing more onto her shoulders wasn't gonna work this time. "Just call me tomorrow, okay?"

"I will." Y/n assured, looking back to Bucky. Pepper's expression had softened a bit following Y/n's gaze.

She remembered the first time she'd met Tony. At first he was adamant about their relationship, refusing to let her forget they were soulmates. But after what happened in Afghanistan he stopped his teasing. He stopped addressing it altogether. The trauma was too much.

Tony wasn't the same and things changed. But she liked to think it was for the better. He was a better man but he stopped seeing himself as worthy of a soulmate. He forgot what soulmates were for and it crushed Pepper.

She refused to let Y/n feel the same.

"Just meet me at Stark Industries on Monday. Have this time with him." Pepper told Y/n, motioning her head toward Bucky.

Y/n nodded softly, working up the courage to make her way to him. "Thank you."

•••

"What did that poor rock do to you?" Bucky froze at her question, whipping around to face her. She offered a soft smile, trying to break the awkwardness before it became too strong.

Bucky let out an airy laugh, looking back at the lake where he'd just thrown the rock. "Looked at me funny." He replied jokingly, turning back to her. She moved carefully toward him, coming to stand at his side a couple feet away.

He wished she would stand closer, close enough for him to put his arm around her. Close enough for him to hold her tight and never let her go. But he'd respect the distance. He'd give her space.

There was a buzz in the air as she stood there next to him, as if everything was falling into place. It felt like the atmosphere had shifted, that the stars had aligned. After all these years without her, he finally had her.

And all he could muster was, 'looked at me funny'?

"Must've been some look." Y/n replied with an amused smirk.

The silence was overwhelming but welcomed. Of course both wanted to fill it with anything and everything they could say but neither were ready for that. They each had their secrets, their pasts. They were at a conflicting crossroads.

"It's strange. I've waited my whole life to tell you everything but now I don't have anything to say." Y/n let out a strained laugh, looking down at her sling. She wanted so badly to see her countdown, to finally confirm to herself that she had him and that he wasn't going anywhere. But her countdown couldn't promise that. Only fate could keep him at her side and so far fate hadn't been kind.

"Me too." Bucky mumbled, cringing at how awkward he believed to be making things.

'Say something.' His mind cursed at him. 'Say anything.'

"You're really beautiful." He spoke suddenly, his face flushing at how stupid he sounded. He meant it of course. She was stunning despite the cuts and bruises along her features. Gorgeous even with the dirt and dried blood that traced her hairline. Enchanting regardless of the sling that obstructed her movement. She was beautiful.

But saying it aloud after only speaking a few words to one another made him feel silly. So long ago he'd call complete strangers beautiful without a second thought. But was that right with his soulmate? Were there certain things he should do? A way to act?

All his worries faded away with her smile, such a glorious thing he couldn't wait to see everyday for the rest of his life. If she would have him.

"Thank you, Bucky." His name slipped off her lips so naturally it was as if she'd been saying it all her life. And maybe she had. Fate worked in mysterious ways and his mother was a firm believer that soulmates always found one another. In this life or another. He'd never believed it but now he had. They'd found each other, despite time and despite space. They were bound to one another and he could feel that Y/n knew it too.

"I have a place in the city. It's where I was heading before...you know. Not that meeting you was an inconvenience, I honestly never thought I would. Not that I didn't want to, I dreamt of it...-I'm rambling now." She sighed. How had she managed to make it even more awkward?

"It's okay." Bucky assured, unable to stop his smile from growing.

"What I was trying to say is I'd like you to stay with me, if you want. It might be a little bit more comfortable than whatever lodging Fury is getting for you all. I have a spare room." She offered, her heart heavy with the idea of Steve being gone. He'd chosen the life he wanted. Unfortunately she wasn't a part of it.

"I'd like that." Bucky nodded, his heart swelling at the suggestion. Not only was it one of the few kind acts he'd experienced since escaping HYDRA, it was also an invitation from his soulmate into her life.

He wouldn't squander the opportunity.

"Great." Y/n smiled, releasing the breath she'd been holding upon his answer. A part of her had been scared of rejection. But she guessed things with soulmates were different. They were easier. Maybe it was the assurance that they were the right match or maybe it was just the overall feeling of belonging that came with the other's presence.

Soulmates were easy.

At least she thought.

•••

When they arrived at Y/n's apartment, she was grateful she had cleaned up before everything that had happened. She'd never brought a man home before, let alone her soulmate and she wasn't sure what to say or do. The only person that she'd even brought to her apartment was Steve and by then their conversation flowed as easily as breathing.

"You have a nice place, very um, modern?" He offered, not knowing what to say himself. It'd been so many years since he'd even talked to a woman and he wasn't even sure he knew how to flirt anymore.

"Thank you." Y/n replied quietly, glancing around the apartment as if trying to see it through his eyes. She remembered Steve mentioning the lack of photos once when he first started to live there. Did Bucky think it was weird?

"Can I get you something to drink? Water, coffee, wine…?" She trailed off. Bucky looked at her, taking notice of her own nerves.

"Water is fine." He answered, smiling at her softly in any attempt to soothe her.

It seemed to work as she smiled back at him, turning toward the kitchen to get a glass of water. "Make yourself comfortable. You can watch TV if you'd like." Y/n called to him, taking a moment after pouring the glass to lean against the counter and sigh, hiding away from the source of her anxiety.

She'd always wanted to meet him. She had wanted to have him in her life from the moment she'd heard about soulmates. But what she never expected was how awkward it would be. She'd always been told that soulmates clicked instantly but they hadn't quite clicked yet. And she could tell Bucky felt it too.

Perhaps it was everything they'd been through? Maybe it'd changed them both enough to where clicking was harder? Or maybe they'd never click.

Her heart dropped at this, sending a surge of pain through her chest. Would she even be able to live with herself if they never clicked? She'd lost everyone, would she lose her soulmate too?

Suddenly a booming voice echoed from the living room, frightening her out of her daze. Quickly grabbing the glass, she dashed into the living room, plucking the remote from the wide eyed Bucky. Hastily, she muted it letting out a panicked sigh as the reporter continued on with his story silently.

"I'm sorry, I-"

"Don't be sorry, really. Trust me that's not the first time I've had to rescue a 100 year old vet from my TV. It just seems to know who to attack." She nervously laughed, setting down the remote. The tense air seemed to relax at that and Bucky found himself chuckling along with her.

The accident, though startling at first, made her feel more at ease. It was something familiar and for the first time since their meeting, there was no awkward feeling between them.

"Here," Y/n handed the glass to him with a shaking hand, trying not to let him see how much had spilled out onto her hand when she rushed into the living room.

Bucky accepted it from her, his fingers lingering on hers for just a moment before retracting.

He could feel her but not like his hand used to. The metal digits no longer felt warmth or pain or tenderness. He could feel when something touched him but all the things that made touch special were stolen along with his real appendage. He wished he'd reached out with his other arm, that he could feel the softness of her skin, the warmth.

"I-I'm not sure how this goes. I rehearsed this a thousand times when I first got my countdown but things are so much more different than I expected. My parents always raised me on the false ideal that we'd meet somewhere cliche like a coffee shop or something." She shook her head, immediately regretting her words the moment they left her mouth.

"I don't really know either. Honestly, I never thought I'd meet you." He sighed, his heart aching with the decades he'd lived believing that he'd die before meeting her. But now she was here and he was ruining it.

Y/n frowned with him, racking her brain for anyway to save their less than perfect first day. "Maybe we should start over." She suggested, putting out her free hand to him.

"Hi. I'm Dr. Y/n L/n." She introduced, deciding there couldn't be harm in starting over. Their meeting was emotional and overwhelming and after all it was just awkward. But Y/n didn't want to remember it that way and neither did Bucky.

As she had hoped, he smiled, putting his own hand into hers and shaking it gently. "Sergeant James Barnes. But everyone calls me Bucky." He replied, his smile growing as she looked at him, her eyes conveying all the warmth she was too scared to admit.

"It's very nice to meet you, Bucky." Y/n smiled, studying the way he looked at her and trying not to let herself blush.

"It's an honor to meet you, Y/n."

•••

The rest of the evening continued this way, an occasional small bount of awkwardness along with some silence before another conversation arised. It was just like getting to know a stranger and while it wasn't what she had anticipated when she thought of meeting her soulmate, it still made her happier than she had ever been.

"So, I started to climb up the fire escape because I definitely wasn't going to wait outside in the snow storm for Steve to rescue me." Y/n explained matter-of-factly, earning a small chuckle from Bucky.

"Of course." He replied shortly, already picturing the woman before him beginning her journey up the fire escape.

"Turns out Steve was already home but he was in the shower. He got out right as I made it to the window and he nearly threw me several stories because he thought I was a burglar. He was so mad, he called me crazy about a hundred times before finally letting me in." Bucky laughed at her retelling, watching the glimmer in her eyes as she relived it.

"Like he's one to judge. When we were younger he'd lose his key all the time, had to start hiding one under a brick at his ma's apartment." Bucky told her, his heart aching slightly as he thought of the last time he'd had to help Steve. His mother had just passed and Bucky was pleading with Steve to stay with him. But Steve was independent, always had been.

"He wanted to change the locks when he found out I lost my key, which I mean, is a fair request but realistically there are about 3 million apartments in the city and the chances of someone finding this one was impossible. Also when you add Captain America into the mix, the chances of your apartment being robbed are quite slim." She explained. She still hadn't changed the locks now that she thought about it and Steve was gone.

And besides she'd survived before Steve. But it didn't make her miss him any less.

"You can never be too careful." Bucky replied, shrugging softly.

"I suppose." Y/n mumbled, looking down at the coffee table where her feet were resting. It always drove Steve crazy but it never stopped her. Yet now she almost felt compelled to do so. Some way to respect his wishes. "What was he like? Who was Steve before the serum and everything?" She asked, slowly dropping her feet from the table.

The question stunned Bucky, leaving him speechless for a few short moments. Several words popped to his mind to describe Steve but they were all things he knew Y/n would already have witnessed.

"He was selfless and brave. And stupid. So stupid. Never knew when to sit a fight out." Bucky chuckled fondly, though it faded just as fast as it had come. "He fought for me when I was on the run from HYDRA. He lost everything to save me."

"Sounds like Steve." Y/n didn't lift her gaze only offering a weak smile at her beloved friend's description.

Y/n was exhausted, so much more tired than she believed possible but given her physical state it made sense. She yawned, trying to muffle as much of it as she could, her eyes watering at how harsh the yawn had rolled through her.

Bucky hardly noticed, a bount of guilt settling on his heavy heart. Bucky didn't deserve saving. But Steve fought for him anyways. And now he was sitting next to his soulmate, the very soulmate he dared not envision a life with for fear of a broken heart.

"How weird that Steve befriended us both, nearly a century apart. And I thought fate was fucked." Y/n laughed quietly, drawing Bucky out of his thoughts. Another yawn took hold of her and Bucky noticed this time, a soft smile gracing his features as he watched her nose scrunch and her hand pathetically fail to hide the yawn.

"It's been a long day." Bucky said quietly, earning a small nod from her.

"You're right." She mumbled, trying to fight off the sleep that so desperately wanted to claim her. There was still so much she wanted to talk to him about and the few hours they had spent getting to know one another didn't feel like enough. But her body was protesting every second she spent awake.

With a silent sigh, she stood pacing off toward Steve's room to find Bucky some clothes for bed. Bucky rose from the couch to follow, taking notice of how her breathing seemed ragged, almost forced.

It worried him but he didn't say anything. Maybe this was normal? He had no idea. He hadn't thought to ask Steve about her condition and asking her now didn't seem right. So he merely watched her with a silent and concerned gaze.

However once reaching Steve's room, Bucky's attention was stolen. It was clear Steve lived in this room. Whether it was the religiously kept bed, neutral colored clothes hung neatly in the closet or the drawings and pictures strung along his walls, Bucky knew this was where Steve had spent a great deal of time.

The pictures varied in a great deal of things, from NYC buildings drawn from the point of view of the street to beautiful scenes from different cities that Bucky guessed Steve had seen during missions. But one in particular caught his eye, pinned carefully to the wall with a tack.

It was of Y/n from her shoulders up, her head slightly turned down. He found her face was quickly becoming a source of comfort. Just seeing her put him at ease and he'd only met her that day.

The picture gave him that same kind of feeling, the feeling that made his chest soft and his muscles relax. It was a way he had yet to see her, so peaceful and calm.

She was reading a book or maybe a magazine? Her eyes focused on the words but there was a daze behind them as if she were daydreaming. He wondered what she had been thinking about. Wondered why she no longer wore her hair like it was in the portrait. Or maybe she did and he hadn't seen it yet?

There were so many things he'd yet to know and a part of him was furious that he had missed all this time with her. He wanted to know her as well as Steve had, wanted to know everything that made her Y/n. He was furious with fate for stealing that from him.

"Here, these might be comfortable enough for sleepwear. But honestly none of Steve's clothes look very comfortable." Y/n spoke, sending a wary look toward Steve's closet where she'd just been.

"So, Steve lived here?" Bucky asked, under the impression that Steve was more of a frequent guest. Y/n tilted her head with a small nod, looking around at the room.

It had once been her office, the very office she used to hold her sessions in. But once branching out to old cafes, the room was often vacant. Thankfully that was around the time she met Steve and the room quickly found a new purpose.

"Yeah, I mean he still went to the compound sometimes but this was his home. He didn't pay rent but he helped out around the apartment, most of the time." Y/n shrugged, smirking slightly. "He had a thing about dishes." She spoke, raising a brow at Bucky as if he might have some sort of background on the interesting flaw.

"He used to say didn't like his fingers to get wrinkled but I always knew it was because soggy food made him sick." Bucky explained, smiling at the memory.

Never before had he met someone who knew Steve as well as he did. It had always been just them. And while he was gone it was just Y/n and Steve. Now they were desperately trying to piece themselves together. It was strange, finding someone exactly like him, yet so different.

"You know, for a guy who's seen so much violence, I didn't think that soggy food would be his Kryptonite." Y/n remarked, walking over to the bed and sitting on the side.

"Kryptonite?" Bucky asked, the word foreign to him. Was it like Vibranium?

Y/n paused. "Oh um. Superman? From the comics? He was still kind of new around your guy's time. 1938, I believe." She explained.

Bucky nodded softly, vague memories of Steve mentioning it to him resurfacing. "I remember seeing them but I never really read them." Bucky replied, watching as she adjusted her sling.

"Well, Superman's one weakness was Kryptonite. I guess Captain America's weakness is dishes." She chuckled, seemingly unaware of how distraught her condition made him.

A silence fell over them after that, nearly killing them both. It was almost annoying how badly their conversation flowed. The most at ease they'd felt with each other was when they first met. When they were in each other's arms. It took everything she had not to stand up and throw herself into him again.

"Well, I um, I'm going to um-..." Y/n mumbled, trying to dismiss the thought. Bucky nodded softly, shifting the clothes in his hands. A simple pair of sweats and a t-shirt.

"Yeah." He murmured, watching quietly as she stood making her way to the door.

There was a tension between them, the kind that made Bucky's heart clench and his brows furrow. Y/n could feel it too. But neither acted.

"Goodnight, Bucky." Y/n spoke barely above a whisper, the weight of the tension crashing down on her.

"Goodnight." He replied, his eyes trailing her until she disappeared down the hall.

The weight lifted as soon as she was gone but he soon found himself missing it. Why was talking to her so impossibly hard? He tried telling himself that with time things would get easier but time was the only thing he was no longer willing to give up. He needed to try something different.

Needed to reapproach the whole soulmate thing.

Part fifteen

Taglist:

@jessyballet

@eldahae

@kissesofdeadforme

@wantingtobekorra

@sxphiiwrld

@lunaticbarnes

@indecisivedolly

@saiyanprincessswanie

@whatifwedo

@arguedquill1226

@lunashaw57

@3aileypage

@mela-noche

@homosexual-having-tea

@steve-rogcrs

@yayrainday

@buckybarnesdevotee

Sorry for such a delayed update, I've been so busy lately but I hope to start updating regularly again! Let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist!!!

[misstrashchan]

The Man With Two Souls, Pt. 2

Okay, so this ended up being a fucking long part 2 to my previous meta post. There was a lot I wanted to get down, and if it doesn't make sense or you don't agree with it, that's fine, I'd just be happy if you read it. Now I can rest until the finale comes and beats me up.

So, there's a few more Salem and Adam parallels to start off with like

(8) Having the same reaction to hearing someone mention Blake and Oz and the possibility of them getting the upper hand against them

(9) Chronologically after this happens (we see Adam destroy the throne room in Volume 6 episode 2, but we see him lose his mask at the end of the Adam trailer) deciding to go after Blake on his own while Salem creates the winged Beringel grimm and plans to go to Atlas herself, presumably to go after Oscar/Ozpin so he doesn't get in the way of her plans (as well as Ruby since she clearly needs her as well)

"If you want something done right, you do it yourself" - Volume 6 Chapter 13

(10) Adam and Salem telling Blake and Oz about how they're going to destroy them and those around them

"The ability to derive strength from hope is undoubtedly mankind's greatest attribute. Which is why I will focus all of my effort to snuff it out. How does it feel? Knowing that all your time and effort has been for nothing. That your guardians have failed you. That everything you've built will be torn down before your very eyes."

"So you send your guardians, your huntsman and huntresses. And when they fail and you turn to your smaller soul, know that you send her to the same pitiful demise. This is the beginning of the end, Ozpin. And I can't wait to watch you burn." - Salem, Volume 3 Chapter 12

"What you want is impossible! But I understand. Because all I want is you, Blake. And as I set out and deliver the justice mankind so greatly deserves, I will make it my mission to destroy everything you love. Starting with her." - Adam, Volume 3 Chapter 11

(11) Salem and Adam's perception of Oz and Blake affecting their perspective of themselves... and the audience.

Okay, this one's honestly kind of weird. For so, so long there were a lot of people who bought into the idea that Ozpin was secretly evil or somehow worse than Salem, or that he'd done something terrible and unforgivable to Salem. I fully admit, I was one of those people. I mean, I didn't think he was evil, but the way Salem talked to him at the end of volume 3, listening to the song Divide, I thought, he must have done something bad to Salem, right? How could she hate him so much otherwise?

And the worst thing he did... was leave her. When he couldn't go along with being a genocidal dictator of the whole world alongside Salem, and didn't want their children to be a part of that either.

And as for Adam, he tells Blake that she hurt him more than anybody because she left him.

"All sorts of people hurt me in all sorts of different ways. But no one hurt me quite like you, Blake. You didn't leave scars. You just left me alone." - Adam, Volume 6 Chapter 12

And Salem would also have been hurt from Ozma trying to leave her. Especially when you think about her backstory, how she was kept isolated in a tower, and instead of finding freedom in the outside world, found it in Ozma. And then he died, and she was alone again. And then the Gods destroyed humanity, and Salem is left alone one again for god knows how long.

"Once again, Salem was alone." - Volume 6 Chapter 3

And weirdly, similar to Ozpin there were people who bought into Adam's false perception of Blake too. That Blake is somehow the one who hurt Adam more than he hurt her (which is, completely insane).

And Salem and Adam want Oz and Blake to feel that way. To be paralyzed with self hatred and doubt, to be stuck in the past, and feel as if everything is their fault. That Salem and Adam are their responsibility, at first to save them, and then to stop them.

You see it with Adam's gaslighting, trying to paint her as an unfaithful coward. And I mean, just listen to the song Divide. The whole song is Salem trying to make out Ozpin to be the villain, that she's killing people but the real murderer is him for trying to give people hope, even if it was hope based on a desperate lie.

"It was you who ended their lives! Made them to dig their own graves! With your dark, sick, cruel design, convinced them their world could be saved." - Divide

And there were a lot of people convinced by Salem's song Divide that Ozpin was far worse than he really was, to the point it was surprising that he hadn't wronged Salem in some way like most people were expecting.

And Adam tries to make Blake believe that she's a coward, that she's selfish and weak, that running away from her problems is all she knows how to do.

And for a long while, Blake believed he was right. That she was toxic to the people around her, that she made things worse for them. And there were some people in the fandom who thought that she really was this toxic person.

It's actually kind of scary, but Salem and Adam managed to manipulate not only Blake and Oz's perception of themselves, but also the audience as well in how they saw them.

I don't doubt for a moment this is going to extend to Oscar as well if she meets him, that she'll likely try to convince him that he's just Ozpin and that he, Oscar, doesn't matter, and he'll fail and make the same mistakes as their past lives. Which undoubtedly parts of the fandom are going to take Salem's false perception of Oscar to heart as well and believe her.

Which brings me to move on from Blake's parallels with her first "soul" and Ozpin, to her second "soul" and Oscar.

Now Blake alluding to the Man with Two Souls is metaphorical, while in Oscar's case it's very literal, and it's no coincidence she's the one who first introduces us to the concept to us with the book she's reading during the Shining Beacon.

"...It's about a man with two souls. Each fighting for control over his body"

(It's important to note that the conflict between the two souls is not one of Good vs Evil)

Blake's conflict of her two metaphorical souls fighting for control, is the false perception Adam had of Blake and who she used to be with him, her past that she can't escape, and the struggle for her smaller, more honest soul, trying to define herself and decide who she wants to be. And for Oscar, he's struggling to define himself and decide who he wants to be, because of the merge with Ozpin, and that his past will become Oscar's too.

Both of them want to do the right thing and rise to their challenges, but it seems like such an impossible task to them that they're afraid to meet it.

"I'm... scared. I'm more scared than I've ever been. Than I ever thought was possible. I always knew I wanted to be more than a farmhand. But this? Who would ask for this?" - Oscar, Volume 5 Chapter 5

"I joined the Academy because I knew that Huntsman and Huntresses were regarded as the most noble warriors in the world. Always fighting for good. But I never really thought past that. When I leave the Academy what will I... How can I undo so many years of hate?" - Blake, Volume 2, Chapter 10

But the person who sees Blake's "other soul" the person she's truly capable of being, who she really is, even when she can't herself, is Yang.

"I'm sure you'll figure something out. You're not one to back down from a challenge Blake." - Yang, Volume 2 Chapter 10

And the one who sees Oscar and who he's capable of being even when he can't himself, is Ruby.

"Hey Oscar? I know this isn't going to be easy. But the fact that you're trying says a lot about you. You're braver than you think." - Ruby, Volume 5 Chapter 5

Blake and Oscar are also the first people we see Yang and Ruby open up to about their past trauma. The difference between the two being that in the Burning the Candle scene Yang is more willing to be vulnerable around Blake, to let her guard down and open up to her about her abandonment issues and how they've affected her.

Because as a more emotionally mature character she understands she needs to do that in order to properly relate to Blake so she can offer her support. She gets frustrated however when Blake still refuses her support, and so she has to give her a push to accept it.

Ruby, however, isn't as emotionally mature as Yang, and doesn't find it easy to let down her guard and talk about her emotions. Her mentality being described as "I don't have time for my emotions, I've got to make sure everybody else is okay" - RWBY Rewind: Ruby Rose Rewinds With Us

She feels like she constantly needs to be a pillar of strength and support for everyone around her as a leader. She has a hard time opening up about her own feelings and being vulnerable around others. For her, it seems much more natural to internalize those feelings rather than face them head on. As a leader, she feels she isn't supposed to show fear or doubt. If she admits how she's hurting or how scared she is, she'd be afraid of those around her losing faith.

Ironically, it's Ozpin's words of advice to her that enforce this mentality

"But if you aren't constantly performing at your best, what reason do you give others to follow you?"

So even though only a minute ago Oscar saw that Ruby was clearly upset over something (being reminded of Penny's death)

Ruby then goes on to act like nothing's wrong when she then attempts to reassure Oscar. And it feels like a performance, and though Ruby genuinely does want to reassure him, it comes across as insincere to him. He's frustrated because Ruby isn't being honest about how she's feeling, and is only concerned with his feelings.

So in the Dojo scene we have Oscar start to push Ruby past that flawed mentality that Ozpin enforced, to be more honest about how she's feeling, to talk about how the Fall of Beacon and the loss of Phyrra and Penny affected her, how she's afraid of Salem killing people she cares about, and that she'd kill anyone regardless.

And with both Ruby and Yang opening up about their past experiences they can relate to Blake and Oscar's own fears, doubts and insecurities. Blake's need for answers and Oscar's fear of the fight with Salem, and Yang's need for answers and Ruby's fear of the fight with Salem.

"I told you! I'm not telling you to stop! I haven't. To this day I still want to know what happened to my mother and why she left me. But I will never let that search control me. We're going to find the answers we're looking for Blake. But if we destroy ourselves in the process what good are we?" - Yang, Volume 2 Chapter 6

"I am scared! But not just for me. What happened at Beacon shows that Salem doesn't care if you're standing against her or not. She'll kill anybody. And that, scares me most of all. Phyrra... Penny... I'd be lying if I said it didn't hurt. That I didn't think about them every day since I lost them. That I didn't wish I had spent more time with them. If it had been me instead, I know they would have kept fighting too. No matter how dangerous it was. So that's what I choose to do. To keep moving forward." - Ruby, Volume 5 Chapter 5

And by demonstrating their own resolve, as well as their belief in the kind of people Blake and Oscar are capable of being that inspires them to be that person.

"I'm. Not. Running."

"You. Will." - Blake and Adam, Volume 3 Chapter 11

"She made a choice. To put others before herself. And so do I."

"Then you've chosen death." - Oscar and Hazel, Volume 5 Chapter 12

There's also Blake expressing her doubt in Yang during volume 3 after she attacked Mecury, causing Yang to question her own judgement.

She compares it to how Adam used to attack people, and of course she knows Yang wouldn't do something like that without good reason, but she can't but feel like the situation is very familiar. And Blake knows Yang isn't Adam, and makes it clear that she's decided to trust Yang.

"I want to trust you. I will trust you." - Volume 3 Chapter 8

But despite that, Blake's words do still weigh on her mind even when she's alone, where Qrow comes to talk to her about what happened and reassure her, and then they end up talking about her mum.

And then with Ruby in volume 7, Oscar expresses his doubt in Ruby in her decision to lie and hide the truth from Ironwood, comparing it to how Ozpin did the same to them, which, similar to Yang, causes Ruby to question her own judgement. And obviously he knows Ruby isn't Ozpin, that she probably had a good reason for lying. But again, the situation just feels so familiar.

But ultimately he decides to put his trust in Ruby, even before Ironwood.

"I do believe in you. But not only you." - Volume 7 Chapter 7

And by episode 9 they're both on the same page in deciding to choose the truth over fear. (if only James could have stayed on that page too)

Similarly to Yang, we see Ruby alone in episode 4 of volume 7, and you can tell Oscar's words are still weighing on her mind, as Qrow comes over to talk to her and she asks him if she is like Ozpin, and he reassures her that she's not, and then they end up talking about her mother.

Okay, so I'm going to go out on a limb here, and you can call me out on my bullshit if you like, but I'm making a prediction (like, 12 hours from the finale, but hey, it might happen later in the series for all I know)

If we're going full in on the parallels here, remember how Yang lost an arm trying to protect Blake from Adam, and afterwards Blake ends up leaving Yang like Raven, believing she'd be better off without her?

And how Salem is on her way to Atlas after hearing Ozpin had reincarnated, the foreshadowing for Ruby losing an eye and them bringing up her trauma around Summer in Chapter 11?

On top of her wanting Ruby alive?

I'm gonna guess Ruby loses an eye trying to protect Oscar, and then afterwards either Oscar or Ruby tries to sacrifice and give themselves up to Salem, except it ends up being a hollow sacrifice like Summer's

"I didn't have a choice I did what I had to do I made a sacrifice but forced a bigger sacrifice on you!" - Red like Roses Part 2

Because Salem would end up taking both of them either way. I actually can't imagine a scenario where she doesn't, because she needs both of them. But one of them has a worse fate, a "bigger sacrifice" in store for them when they reach Evernight (which I'm still thinking is Ruby)

[pocminiseries]

At Midnight|3

❤︎

The tension in the air was thick and uncomfortable.

Imani's eyes refused to meet her fiance's gaze that had been staring a hole into her back since she stepped out of the shower. He had scared her when she spotted him undoing his tie near the bed, barely even speaking a word to him.

What was there to say?

Instead of making an unnecessary attempt at conversation, she sat in front of her vanity and started her nightly routine. With her detangling brush in one hand, she started brushing her hair, feeling Jayden move about around their bedroom. She hated that he was here.

He had made it a routine of coming home late but now all of a sudden he was home right after he was done with work? It was bullshit but Imani had a feeling of what changed.

He no longer needed to hide.

"So we're not speaking now?" His gruff voice suddenly asked, causing her eyes to finally meet his as he stood behind her with his shirt now unbuttoned, exposing his muscled chest.

"I have nothing to say," Imani shrugged, putting down her brush and picking up her favorite scented lotion.

"You're going to be my wife soon Imani, communication is needed in every relationship," He informed her, almost causing Imani to roll her eyes. This muthafu-

"Work is fine. I'm fine. There, happy?" She answers, giving him an annoyed look before applying lotion along her legs.

His deep chuckle sent a chill down her spine because it was so sinister sounding. "Fix that attitude and address me correctly. You know better," He warns, placing one of his hands on her shoulder. "You know the role you're playing here don't you?"

Glancing his hand on her shoulder, then towards his dark eyes, Imani shrugged his hand off of her. "Yes, the one of your fiance. The one you proposed to. The one you're willing to say I do to under the watchful gaze of God but clearly, I'm not the only one you seek,"

The grin on his handsome face only seemed to grow at her words, not at all fazed by what she said. "As long as you know your place, Imani. Faithe is none of your concern. Do what is expected of you and everything will be fine. If not...you know I'm always willing to make another example out of you,"

The hate Imani had for Jayden only seemed to grow the more he talked, irking her brain even more. "You're right, it isn't my business but the next time you think about having your mistress in my bed, I'll put a bullet in her head and into her stomach as she carries your unborn child," She threatened, feeling an intense sting to her cheek as her head snapped back from his slap to her face a few seconds later.

With watery eyes, Imani held her left cheek as she stared up at him with hatred. "Watch yourself, Imani. That reckless mouth of yours will cost you problems, especially speaking on my seed. I'll warn you once, keep your fuckin mouth shut,"

"Or what?! You can't hurt me Jayden, yo daddy will kil-"

"No, bitch, I'll kill you," He cut in with that evil tone and look upon his face. "My dad doesn't run shit around here, I do and it's best you learn that," The grip he had on her arm tightened, causing her to wince.

"Please! If you had any say, you'd be marrying Faithe, not me," Imani retorted back, flinching when he raised his free hand again only to caress her heated skin.

"Don't get it twisted Imani, I want you...I mean look at you," He acknowledged, looking her over as he admired her beauty. "You know how many men out there that want you? But they can never have you because you belong to me and once I'm done with you...nobody will want you, I can promise you that,"

She was scared and Jayden could sense it. Her mouth was something lethal sometimes but he knew how to put her in her place. "I love you, Imani, I really do. I can make you happy. All you have to do is accept my lifestyle and everything you could ever want I'll give to you," He cooed, bending down to kiss her bruised cheek.

"Be obedient, that's all I ask," With that, he took a step back and headed straight for the bathroom, leaving Imani alone to pick herself up.

Her head shook as she fought to keep herself together. This couldn't be life.

How dare he?

Her fingers barely graced her cheek as she let out a hiss in pain, finally tasting the iron in her mouth. He damn near slapped her head off of her shoulders. Hearing the shower turn on after a few minutes, Imani sprung into action, knowing she couldn't just stay here tonight. Not after what he said or did to her face.

Pulling on a pair of sweats and a simple graphic t-shirt, she slipped her feet into a pair of sneakers and tossed her still slightly wet curls into a messy bun on top of her head. Quickly grabbing her purse and keys, she all but powerwalked out the door, carefully closing it behind her and hastily headed towards her car. She didn't even bother with a seatbelt, pulling out of her driveway as soon she started it up.

Only her soft sniffles could be heard as she drove to a random gas station a little ways into the city. Maybe she would come to regret this in the morning but she didn't care. 

Even when Jayden blew up her phone, she ignored his calls and texts, not bothering to read them.

Her options were limited and he knew that. Jayden, along with his father had eyes and ears everywhere so she knew she had little time to figure something out. She couldn't turn to her friends because they knew all of them, not as if she had many to begin with.

Going to her parents was out of the question, they would only hand her over because of fear.

She was at a complete loss.

Sitting back against her seat, Imani reached for her purse and pulled out her wallet, looking through the few bills that she had when she came across a familiar card. One that she had forgotten about since that night he had given it to her.

Imani hadn't seen him since her scare inside of the women's bathroom at the restaurant. Once she had blatantly told him what was happening to her, she had quickly realized what she had done and clumsily fled out of the bathroom stale with him calling after her. She felt embarrassed that she exposed herself to him like that.

No one knew about her disease or how much it was infecting her. It was just another part of bad karma embedding itself into her life, so Imani simply accepted it. What more could she do?

Still, as she looked down at Leo's card the words he said to her at the gala replayed so vividly in her mind..."When you need me, come find me".

Biting her lip, she read the number and grabbed her phone and nervously dialed, throwing all caution to the wind. As it started to ring, her eyes glanced at the clock that read exactly midnight when she heard his smooth voice on the other end.

"Hello,"

For a second she hesitated, almost hitting the end button, knowing deep down what she was about to do was a mistake but the words she said next seemed to leave her mouth with no warning. "You told me when I needed you to find you and...I-..." She faltered, too afraid to let the words leave her mouth but Leo had heard all he needed to hear, recognizing Imani's serene tone immediately.

"Did he hurt you?"

Imani swallowed, biting into her lip in an attempt to force back her sobs, failing miserably as her emotions began to get the best of her. "Yes..." She choked out, gripping the steering wheel with her free hand.

"Follow the address I sent you...I'll be waiting," He instructed, just as Imani felt her phone vibrate against her cheek. "Be careful," He adds before ending the call.

Reading the text that he sent with his address attached to it and typed it into her GPS. In seconds she had started up her engine and pulled off onto the freeway, following the directions carefully. The entire drive she wandered of what would or could happen when she arrived. She didn't know a thing about him but she truly didn't have anywhere else to go.

It was literally the only place that Imani knew that Jayden wouldn't be able to find her at. The consequences were worth the risk.

Forty minutes had past when she had found herself driving down a gravelly road that seemed to be in the middle of nowhere until a beautiful two-story home came into her view. She could make out two cars that sat in the driveway as she put her own in park and cut the engine. As soon as she removed her keys from the ignition, the light on the porch was flicked on and out steeped the silhouette of Leo.

Nervously, Imani exited her car and closed it behind her. Her eyes stayed glued to him the entire time she moved up his walkway and to the steps, losing her footing when she saw that he was shirtless. She barely noticed him reaching for her and helping her inside until the sound of his front door closing filled her ears.

Imani knew that she probably looked a mess with her red eyes from crying after she told herself not to. Her cheek probably an ugly color of red and purple which Leo noticed immediately under the light in his entryway.

Grabbing a hold of her hand, he silently led them upstairs and straight to his bathroom. With ease he lifted her up onto his counter and begin to fix up her face, starting with her rinsing out her bloody mouth.

"You're hiding from him," He states knowingly, holding up an ice pack to her cheek. "I'm aware of who your fiance is, Imani...you're safe with me,"

Imani couldn't pinpoint it, but there was just something about the way he said that that sent a wave of relief through her veins. "I can't stay long," She reveals to him, knowing that somehow, someway Jayden would find her.

Moving a piece of hair from her face, Leo took in the beauty in front of him, taking special notice of the fear in her eyes. "You can but you're just too afraid of what he'll do,"

The fact that he could read her so easily was terrifying. "He'll kill you if he finds me here,"

Leo smirks at that. "He can try but I can assure you, he won't succeed," He casually states, knowing very well what he was capable of. Imani was completely clueless of the deadly man she had standing between her legs.

Though he was attempting to live a normal life, his skills still remained intact. He wasn't one to be tested.

"Why are you so nice to me?" She questioned softly, closing her eyes. To trust someone so easily was foolish but she has felt so safe whenever she was around him.

"Because you seem to need someone and I don't believe coming across you at that moment was a coincidence," He told her half truthfully. In reality, when his eyes had first landed on her at the gala he was intrigued. "Tell me I'm wrong?"

"Are you my savior in all this?" She asks instead, opening her eyes to look over his face.

"If that's what you need me to be," He easily claims, not being the one to lie.

A low chuckle slips past Imani's lips at that. "My problems...my issues...they run deep you know? I'm literally dying with no way out,"

"That was before you met me, Imani. I can fix whatever you need me to," Solving conflicts or issues was a specialty of his. It just usually ended up with someone dying by the end of it.

"This type of brokenness can't be fixed, Leo," No matter how fine this man was or how willing he was to help her...she could never have him as she wanted.

"You doubt me but you ending up here with me was because this was where you wanted to be, no matter what excuse you try telling yourself,"

Maybe he was right. Maybe she did want to be here but that made her nervous. Imani knew that if she crossed that line with him, it wouldn't be some one-time thing. No. Whatever this was between them was something deep and once she gave in, there would be no turning back.

And that alone scared her.

[l1ana]

Imagine being able to hold Thors' hammer

Summary: Yeet, idfk I'm in a car thinking this up so yEAH—

———

You were the main one to usually tidy up after the messes that the rest of the avengers made in the tower; that included repairing destroyed parts of it. After all, it was the least you could do to repay Tony for letting you in as one of the family. Unfortunately, being let into the family also meant being the main target for idiot or cruel pranks cast upon you by the rest of the team. It was hard to get used to at first, but you eventually made way to accept that everyone were just as goofy and carefree on the inside as they were on the outside— They never meant you any harm.

Today was no different. Long story short: some idiot tried to attack the tower, lots of collateral damage to the tower, you going to clean up the tower. “[Name], you know I have money for a reason, right?” Tony asked, walking underneath the ladder you stood on with a coffee mug in hand. “Yeah but fixing things is my specialty. Consider it a second hobby besides helping you guys kick the shit out of bad guys.” “Language.” Steve groaned, relaxing into the couch. A smirk graced your face. “Figured you'd say that.” Tony took a seat at the dining room table.

“That guy was... Tough.” Clint exhaled an aggravated sigh. “Yeah, tell me about it.” Natasha added. “Are you all okay? I can fix you some cup of tea if you'd like.” You said, waving your hand upwards to have a multitude of tools make their way to the walls and initiated the cleanup. “No, no, [Name]. It's quite alright.” Bucky dismissed, still wondering how you could be in such a happy-go-lucky mood after what the hell just happened.

You reached your left hand downwards, expecting one of your tools to fly into hand. “Uhhh, I can't seem to find my hammer. Can someone get an extra from the closet?” At those words, an idea popped into a certain gods mind. Now he sure enough wasn't the mischievous type compared to his brother Loki, but Thor did enjoy teasing you as much as everyone else did. Clint stared at him with that knowing look in his eyes, fully aware of what the deity had in mind. It was quite obvious to everyone what Thor was thinking, and most of them groaned in dismay or laughed in agreement.

“You honestly can't find any other way to act smooth, can you?” Tony remarked with a sip of his drink. Unlike the others, the capabilities of Thors legendary hammer Mjolnir hadn't been leaked to you at all. And since you hadn't the slightest clue to whatever Thor was brainstorming, this only worked to his favor. “Of course he can't. The only way he knows how to is by telling his long tales of being a god and whatever.” Sam stated with a wave of his hand. To elaborate on what they were saying— Thor may have developed a small l̶a̶r̶g̶e̶ liking towards you. Just a little bit. But honestly, he wasn't the only one.

“You guys just can't leave the poor girl alone for one minute, can you?” Wanda laid back into the recliner while making said comment. “Hey, I'm not the one thinking it up.” Bruce waved his hands around in defense. “Nor am I.” Clint added before doubling with a, “But just in case, 30 bucks saying she'll hold it.” Que the loud and obviously ticked off groans from Steve. “That's a really low move,” He grumbled, throwing his left arm atop of his face. “..... 50 saying she will.”

Bucky threw a pillow at his companions stomach, scolding him for indulging in this idiot plan to make you swoon for Thor. “10 on her not holding it.” Until giving in himself for why not sakes.

Before they knew it, the team was all making quiet bets deciding whether or not your palm could properly wrap around the handle of the legendary hammer without falling. The good news if you couldn't hold it was that Thor could catch you —due to the weight of the hammer knocking you off balance and sending you quickly gravitating towards the floor— in one arm and his hammer in another, looking dashing and being seen in your eyes as ‘hero’. And even if you could hold it, to which he HIGHLY doubted, he'd be getting paid. It was a win-win on either side.

Snickers and moans, followed by a few discouraging comments courtesy of Sam, flew around as Thor aproached the ladder you stood at with Mjolnir behind his back. “[Name], I have the hammer you seek-” Once he turned his eyes up, he immediately dragged them back down to the floor with a crimson stroking his usual pale skin, not wanting to come off as ungentlemanly for staring at your rump. A cough came from his mouth as you opened a free hand and held it out, expecting the hammer to be set into your palm. “Thank you Thor.” Oh goodness your voice was like catnip to a catnip-starved street feline. He absolutely adored it with his entire heart and soul. Almost made him feel bad for what he was about to do. “E-ehem! You're deeply welcome, my dear [Name].” He said, pulling his weapon from behind him and holding it by the base, setting the handle within your palm. His head clocked back towards the team, who either gave a look of affirmation or one of disagreement to his action.

Thor sighed, his fingers releasing grip of the iron block and opening his arms out, ready to catch you.

Nothing happened.

It went dead silent in the tower, the only sound being you hammering the nail into the wall to finish hanging the picture. The amount of jaws that dropped was immesurable. Thor turned his head round to witness the shocked expressions written over his team mates faces. Oh yeah, they looked like all hell had been loose. Deciding to dart his gaze upwards to where they all directed their sights, he joined the rest of the avengers in this awestricken state.

There you were, twirling the hammer in your hand innocently as you wiped the sweat glands forming on your forehead. “There we go. Good as new.” You remarked with a chirp, pushing the picture frame to be straight and neat. You slid down the ladder as the tools fell back into your small toolbox, the top closing itself instinctively with a satisfying snap. “This is quite the odd modeling for a hammer. But nevertheless, thank you for the help. If I had moved, it might've been raining wrenches and iron bits, heh.” A gloved hand, your hand exactly, scratched the nape of your neck as you giggled nervously. Due to your close-eyed grin, you were unable to catch glimpse of Thors' undescribable expression that painted his face.

“I’ll get going to the outside now. Y-you all have fun!” With that you dashed through the living room on your way to the balcony, opening your eyes and taking notice of everyone's faces. “What's wrong? I can always lend an ear if need be.” You chuckled, leaving them all in wake of those words.

“She held it.” Clint was the first to speak up amongst the group, putting a wall between the quietness. “She actually held it.” His mouth was wide enough to stuff and entire pie in as he said that. “She actually held it.” Sam took a long hard stare at his drink, eyes furrowing. What the hell was in it? He wasn't drunk right now, right? Oh well, whatever was in it -or left in it- was gone, down his throat. Natasha just smirked in a know-it-all fashion, retorting “That's what you all get for underestimating the power of [Name],” “Aka the power of unrelenting kindness.” Wanda and Nat did a little fist bump. “Name's worthy... Totally didn't see that coming.” Steve said sarcastically with a smug look. He already foresaw the hammer within your threshold long ago after witnessing what a charismatic young lady you were, always willing to help whenever.

“See, this is the part where I wake up because I know I did not just let a 200 go to waste.” Tony said, pinching his cheeks. Everybody was stuck in conversation, dishing out surprised comments or bragging about the money they got simply from the bet. However, Thor wasn't making any comments at all. No gasps, no inhales, nothing. Just nothing. It was blatantly obvious that he was the most stunned of all. Bruce smirked. “What's the matter Thor? Someone finally picked up the claimed ‘unholdable’ hammer and now you're quiet?”

“To be honest, [Name] is probably the worthiest of us all.” Peter said. “I mean, she has a heart of gold. Literal gold.” He fawned over how much of a sweetheart you absolutely were. Pietro nodded in agreement. “She's a gracious girl with nothing but purity within her.”

It goes without saying that this whole idea of ‘worthy’ didn't define as much to everyone as it did to Thor. So many roads were being laid out before his very eyes revolving around you. This had so many different meanings, so many different futures. You could take place as a ruler of Asgard. You could possibly transend and become a goddess. The head attached to the mop of blonde hair was sent into a ditzy. He was in this state of rethinking literally everything that's eved occured in his life. His emotions were a mix of shock, rage, joy, and so much more— all of them swirling n him and creating a feeling he didn't even know existed. There was no way to even give it proper words. “Hey, Thor.” Rhodney snapped his fingers, eliciting the other to awaken from his daydream. “Oh, yes?”

“So, whatcha gonna do now?”

“What do you mean?”

“[Name] held your hammer. This obviously means something besides the fact that she's boiling with love to spread.” Bucky said. “Isn't there something more to it...?”

“I have to marry her.” Thor said without hesitation. “What?” Everyone in the room perked their heads up. “Asgard must be ruled over with those the hammer deems worthy, and [Name] is without a doubt worthy.” Oh how Steve was happy that he didn't pull the hammer off the table that time when they were all drinking. “Awww, so you finally get a shot to kiss wittle old [Name]y-waymey.” Tony mocked, making fake smooching noises. “He wasn't ever going to make a move on his own, I think it's good that the hammer got involved.” Pietro commented.

“Jeez it's blazing hot out there.” Speak of the devil, there you were, emerging from the outside with sweat running down your body, your clothes almost soaked in the substance. “I could use a drink right about now.” Waltzing your way to the fridge, you bent down and picked out a small glass of water, chugging it down in one gulp and releasing an ‘ahhh’ of satisfaction.

Thor felt something hit his head; A pillow. Glaring at the one who threw it, the god sighed at Clints childish act yet got the message. He inhaled, mustering all the courage he could and walking up to you. “Uhm, lady [Name], I could really-” “Hey Thor. Here's your hammer back.” You turned and greeted, opening his palm to place the hammer in it. “W-wait, you knew this was mines...?” He asked questioningly. “Yup. You always walk around with it after all,” A light laugh emitted as he took the time to process this. “It's pretty light for a hammer that only gods can pick up. Does that make me a goddess?” Everyone overhearing this in the living room snickered. No doubt about it, Thor was going to go crazy.

“Wellll, I guess since it's your hammer, that technically makes me your goddess!”

thor.exe has crashed