#but i did assert myself that i was angry and he was approaching me on terms that were good for him not that were good for me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fizzyxcustard · 2 years

Text

"I Never Knew It'd Be Like This" (Armitage Summer Splash Day 2)

As part of @lathalea and I's Armitage Summer Splash, I present to you, day 2.

Masterlist of fics for Summer Splash

Prompts: Above image. "I never knew it'd be like this." Only one bed trope.

Fandom: North & South - modern John Thornton

Pairings: Modern!John Thornton x Fem!Reader (very slight)

Warnings:

Summary: You are John Thornton's secretary and have agreed to travel to New York with him in high hopes of sealing a deal for his company at Marlborough Mills. However, your boss begins to show that temper of his when things don't go according to plan.

Comments/Notes: If anyone would like to be added to or removed from my tag list, please say. Another fic about hotels, seeing as day 1 had the main characters staying in a hotel.

John was exasperated. Your plane had been delayed by an hour. You had waited ninety minutes for your shuttle bus from JFK to Manhattan, and now you were standing in the reception of your hotel, being told that only one room had been booked.

"I booked this myself a month ago," you told the blonde woman who was starting to grow quite scared of John. You could see her keep looking over at your rather annoyed boss who had the ability to make anyone shake just by the scowl on his face. "I made sure it was for two rooms."

John stepped away from the desk, recognising immediately why he had hired you as his secretary. You had the way with people that he didn't. When people had an issue with their wages, annual leave days or general working conditions, they came to you. Approaching John Thornton was a last resort.

"Okay, thank you," you said to the lady at reception, trying not to sigh and show your annoyance.

"What's happening? I had to step away because I knew I'd start shouting," John told you.

"They've apparently overbooked and they've only got one room available for us, and it's got one double bed," you sighed.

"Oh, this is bloody ridiculous!" John hissed. He dashed to the desk and began to ask if the manager was available.

"John! Calm down, please," you urged him.

The lady behind the desk was backing off, unsure what to do and showing signs that she hadn't been in this job for very long. Hotels always had their fair share of angry guests, and most staff members became used to it over time. This woman, however, did not have the confidence and assertiveness that most hotel staff had.

Ten minutes later, you and John admitted defeat and made your way to the elevator. But, on a positive note, you had now managed to get yourselves free drinks in the bar and free meals for the rest of your stay.

"I never knew it'd be like this," John mused to himself as you both stood in the elevator, feeling it shudder beneath you as it rose up the floors.

"What?"

"New York. It's busy, stinks, and everything has gone wrong since we landed," he sighed, crossing his arms. "Makes me wonder if this place is cursed."

"Come on, stop being so pessimistic," you urged him. The loud ping of the elevator stopping drew you both out of your thoughts, and you stepped out onto the sixth floor, trailing your suitcases behind you.

"I'm glad it's only for two nights. I'll take the floor," John said as he looked upon the double bed dominating the centre of the room which you walked into. He couldn't deny that he felt a pang of something. Anticipation, maybe? A shiver raced up his spine, and he looked across to you, only to see you looking down at the beige carpet

"The bed is big enough for two people with plenty of space in the middle. You won't even know I'm there."

John smirked to himself. Of course he'd know you were there. Even when you weren't there, he still felt you somehow. He had spent enough time around you to acknowledge that his feelings ran deeper than purely platonic. And for a second he thought back on the men who worked in the mill, who would wolf whistle at you as they passed by the office. Then, to his amazement, some of them you even spoke to! Why would you ever entertain the idea of talking to men who only saw you as a piece of meat?

You looked out the window only to see dark and heavy clouds had settled over the city, and rain was falling. "We should make the most of those free meal tickets tonight," you chuckled.

You and John went down to the lounge area a couple of hours later, your special tickets in hand to give you access to free food and drinks. Suddenly, John's phone began to ring. He stepped away from you for a minute, excusing himself with a smile.

You sat down at a table and began to skim the menu, but John's irate voice wafted through the room. Customers of the lounge began to stare, their heads turning in the direction of the angry voice.

"If this is how you're going to manage your time then you can shove the fucking deal!" John boomed.

You tried not to focus on the sea of heads that had turned towards you and followed John to the seat opposite you.

"What's happened now?" you asked in frustration and embarrassment.

"The meeting for tomorrow has been cancelled, and they don't know when they can re-schedule it to. Possibly not for another three months. They can kiss my..."

"John?" You interrupted. "Just calm down for five minutes and enjoy some food."

***

Follow Forever tag list: @i-did-not-mean-to @lathalea @meganlpie @linasofia @knitastically @xxbyimm @guardianofrivendell @middleearthpixie @sketch-and-write-lover @lilacpulse @asgardianhobbit98 @spidergirla5 @msjava1972 @rachel1959

Richard Armitage tag list: @cryptichobbit @eunoiaastralwings

#John Thornton #North and South #Modern North and South #Fanfiction #Richard Armitage #Armitage Summer Splash #John Thornton x Fem!Reader #Modern!John Thornton x Fem!Reader

66 notes · View notes

hunterinabrowncoat · 2 years

Text

I’m so tired.

These past few days I’ve been so angry and despondant and depressed. But now I’m just... so desperately sad. It hurts. All I want is to be treated with kindness and tenderness.

Last year my partner and best friend for many years dumped me for someone else, a mutual friend at the time. And I bent over backwards to accomodate both of them and be as kind as I was able to be. I agreed to let her live with us because living with her mum was bad for her mental health. She was volatile and abusive to my ex and constantly self-harming and attempting suicide which was deeply triggering. Still, I did everything I could to help and if I ever felt like I couldn’t be kind to her, I’d leave and come back when I was feeling more generous.

I asked my ex to move out. When they still hadn’t found a place, months later, I asked him to lower his standards and start looking at houseshares because it was so bad for my wellbeing to have them both here.

Eventually her behaviour got so bad I couldn’t do it anymore and I put my foot down and kicked her out. The one boundary I had ever asserted throughout this whole shitshow, and my ex asked me not to. When I refused he said I was being cruel.

He moved out with her to his mum’s. I said they could come back to stay occasionally overnight if they were seeing friends in Cardiff. Soon that became them turning up unannounced, often in the early hours of the morning, every other week, almost always shouting at each other. When I told him it wasn’t acceptable, he didn’t see the issue and objected to her not being allowed in the house.

Neither of them believed me when I said others also didn’t want her there and it wasn’t until others confirmed this that they actually took it seriously. My wellbeing didn’t matter to either of them. My inability to cope with her being in the hosue was irrelevant, because he wanted to be able to come back and bring her with him whenever he wanted.

Recently he took our cat, who I’ve been looking after since the breakup (long before he moved out) for a week. Then he announced he was keeping the cat for another week. He told me he’s keeping the cat and we’re approaching three weeks and there’s no sign he’s ever going to give him back. He’s not replied to my messages (which he almost never does anyway).

I’m just so tired. I was so angry but now I’m just... hurt. I tried. I really tried to be kind and empathetic throughout all this. I really tried to see the Holy in everyone, even those who are hurting me. I really tried to hold space for other people’s pain even though I was suicidal myself. Even though, at every opportunity, it was made clear to me that my wellbeing was never a priority for my ex, I tried to still be polite and compassionate.

Still, he somehow feels jaded and wronged by me. Still, he’s acting as though I’m being unreasonable for wanting to keep the cat I’ve cared for almost single-handedly for over a year.

I just want to be treated with some compassion and tenderness. Is that too much to ask?

#even if he'd left me for someone who was wonderful it would be hurtful enough #but i treated him with so much patience and kindness #i never shouted at him. ever.#every time i was angry #i'd take time to calm down and process until i was ready to calmly and compassionately talk through why i was upset #i had so much patience #even when he'd shout and throw things or slam things when he was stressed #i encouraged him - i BEGGED him to go to therapy #i saved up money for him to go to therapy so the cost wasn't an issue #(he gave it to her)#she yells at him over the tiniest things #she treats him like dirt #she told him it was his fault when she tried to kill herself #she told him to sit on the floor instead of the chair #she expects him to wait on her hand and foot #she demands things of him instead of asking in kindness #he asked me to talk to her when she was being verbally abusive to him because he knew she wouldn't hear it if he voiced any objection #and tha'ts what he left me for?#that's what he wants?#personal #ignore me #text post

9 notes · View notes

theaustinrockwell · 1 year

Text

Solve 99% of Your Problems by Being Your Best Self

As I mentioned in my last few posts, things went south with all of the girls I was dating when I lost sight of my goals and purpose and I let myself go physically. Part of the problem is that the girls I had flings with were going through a lot emotionally, so I felt awful and wanted to cater to their needs 100% of the time so that they'd feel better, not realizing that they hated the emotionality and instability that that created in me.

Despite that, and perhaps a cause of that, was that I was not being my best self. I lost sight of my career goals, my mission, my physical health goals, my social goals, all of that. I did that, because I saw the girls I was dating in emotional pain and thought that focusing on myself as much as I was was selfish. Looking back,t he reason they showed interest in me in the first place though was my drive and confidence. They didn't need me to experience their emotions for them. I could be empathetic, but I didn't need to take on everything. I didn't need to solve their problems, which I now see was codependent and unhealthy. (The codependence wasn't pulled out of my ass though. It was a product of my upbringing for reasons that I'll get into another day.)

Either way, when I ruminate on all of my fuck ups in these relationships, every single one could have been solved by me staying on track with my goals and taking care of myself, SO THAT I could take better care of my partner. I had hollowed myself out to "help" these girls, and I became emotionally, physically, and spiritually ugly. By "spiritually," I mean the connection to my sense of purpose and my mode of connecting to other human beings. It was all pathetic.

If I was focused on my mission, I wouldn't have chased these girls so hard that I chased them away. I would have shown interest then let them be adults and decline if they're weren't feeling it. If I was physically in shape or at least physically confident, I wouldn't have chickened out when they wanted to get physical (also if I actually had a dick). I wouldn't have spent so much time thinking about them when they were not thinking about me. I wouldn't have given a shit about their cheeky social media stories. None of that. I wouldn't have gotten so angry at them, even when they played insane fucking games. I would have just lived my life and invited them to come along if they wanted.

That's how I want to approach relationships now. Be my best self and invite others to experience life with me.

I have tried this kinda before and failed. I think I messed up the "best self" part and I let others walk all over me. My best self now involves being more assertive. And not assertive just to be assertive (though a Fight Club-like bid for personal power may teach me a lot), but assertive for a purpose. Telling a friend I don't have time to help them just because I don't want to is different from telling them I can't because I have an important deadline on a project that will help me achieve my mission. As long as my assertiveness is born out of prioritizing good things for myself and loved ones rather than out of hatred for others, then I'm in the ballpark of healthy masculinity.

0 notes

plasticferal · 3 years

Text

chasing highs | rafe cameron.

summary: you’re his lover, and he’s your brother’s best friend. both the secrecy and his addiction cause tension in your hidden relationship.

authors note: 2.4k words. explicit language, mentions substance abuse, angst and weaponry.

soundtrack: sober, childish gambino.

you struggle to support the grocery bags that are filled to the brim, and tearing at the seams. you use your elbow to pry the door open with a struggle and quickly dump the brown bags on the counter. you groan at the sight, the house is in disarray. empty glasses, crushed cans and powder residue scatter across the wooden table. the smell of dry grass that’s been tracked along the floors and a contrasting clean linen fills the small space.

“at least he did the washing,” you run the back of your hand across your forehead, looking around with a fatigued sigh. you begin unpacking everything into cupboards. your arrangement is disturbed by a banging at the door that rattles the wall, it seems desperate. you turn around to pull the handle, revealing rafe. you roll your eyes, murmuring an acknowledgement before leaving the door open for him to let himself in. “country club,”

he steps inside, looking around and acting neurotic. “only barry calls me that,” he counters. “well barry’s not here, so,” you fade off the last part of your sentence, not entirely being interested in conversation. you strain your toes to place a cereal box on the top shelf. rafe silently stands behind you, his chest pressed to your shoulder as he takes it from your hand to put it away, being able to reach with ease. you feel his warm hand crawl around the side of your hip. you grip the edge of the counter that’s underneath you, feeling his breath trickle down your neck.

“i missed you, you know?” he spoke softly. he smelt like faded cologne and dirt, an overall musky scent. it was oddly comforting.

you shrug him off and turn back to pull vegetables from the bags, excusing his body to reach the fridge. he follows your every action.

“did i do something?” he looks confused by your dismissive nature, and sudden sharp tone.

“wanna tell me what you’re here for?” you place the packaged food in the cold drawers of the fridge, slamming them closed a little more dramatically than intended. you know his answer, you just need to reassure yourself.

“i just, i just need a little bit-” he speaks apprehensively. you quickly turn around to look at him, your eyes are heavy and filled with dejection. you lick your lips and bob your head with thought, letting out a bitter chuckle.

“he’s all out,” you look up at him, “house is empty.” and once again, you go back to the groceries. rafe stands still for a moment, rubbing his knuckles. you can hear the friction of his skin.

“i know he’s got something in here, y/n,” he looks around, and you can hear the shake in his vowels. his heavy steps take over the creaking floor, a cabinet slamming, making you jump slightly.

“did you not hear me, or are you not listening? there’s nothing in here,” you follow the noise to catch the sight of rafe rummaging through any door that opens. you to reach his shoulder to pull him away from a brown t.v unit, knowing he won’t give up until he’s been physically stopped. the moment you reach forward he pushes your hand away, grunting and bypassing you.

“are you fucking serious?” shock seeping through. he freezes, hands digging through his hair as he bounces back and forth between his feet. he releases air from his nose in frustration, taking a step closer to you.

“i’m sorry, i, i just need you to help me out,” he lends a hand forward in hopes of taking you into his arms, but you step back.

“help you feed the drug addiction that my brother started?”

“god, not right now,” he shakes his head, shutting his eyes tight and pinching the bridge of his nose.

“help you come to realisation that you have a problem?” you continue, knowing that it’s only getting to under his skin more.

“i don’t have a fucking problem!” he screams. not a yell. a scream with chest, an angry reaction. a reaction you could handle from your brother, arguments often occurring in the house. but not from rafe. not from the man you go out of your way to protect and love.

“get out.” your voice is stern and your eyes are stinging. his tension quickly diminishes.

“i didn’t mean- i didn’t mean to yell, alright?” he bites his words back, fighting that belligerent tone that previously lashed out.

“i’m not repeating myself,” you shake your head, looking to the door.

“sweetheart, i’m sorry. i’m sorry, okay? i’m just on edge,” he rambles on his justification but it only seems to dig himself a deeper hole.

“yeah, that’s the only reason you’re here,” you mumble to yourself, looking at your hands while you squeeze the tips of your fingers. a distraction.

“what’s wrong with you today? talk to me,” he progresses a step closer, careful not to approach too fast, knowing you’d turn away.

“rafe, i know you have a lot going on but god, i don’t want you to pretend to want me if you care more about chasing a high,” you finally spill how you feel, wanting to take it all back the second you do, not because you didn’t mean it, because you truly didn’t want the confrontation. you look up to see his face drop, mouth open a jar and eye’s grave.

“are you kidding me? you’re the only fucking person on this earth i care about,” he speaks with a bounce of a laugh, more out of shock and disbelief that he has to say it aloud.

“i know i have a problem, alright?” he hold his palms together and digs his fingers into his chest, the fixed intensity on his face. he licks his lips, rotating back and forth between his heels before pausing to take a deep breath. he tests the waters in stepping closer to you, and this time you let him. you allow him into your space, admittedly craving his touch. his hand cups around your upper arm, sliding down your skin before his index finger slips around the belt loop of your jeans. he pulls your lower half forward until you’re touching bodies, and his forehead rests against the crown of your head.

“i’m gonna try harder, i promise,” his voice is soft, and assertive. it’s difficult to feel indifferently about him. you want a reason to be mad, a reason to get him out of the house before you run into more trouble, but you know he’s being genuine. in that moment, there were no doubts or fears.

“okay,” your voice faint, letting yourself fully sink into his touch. you reach up to drape your hands over his shoulders, fingers playing with the dirty blond hair that falls messily past his ears.

“i love you, you know that right?” he speaks, mouth now hovering over your lips. you laugh sweetly, pecking the side of his face. “yeah, i do actually,” your arrogant response prompts a poke from him into your side and you push his bicep with a giggle.

“shit, i think i fell in love with you the first day we met,” he pulls your body back to him, swaying you both back and forth. he moves when the gears in his head are ticking, can never keep still. so you allow your body to dance around with him while he ponders.

“you’re lying” you roll your eyes, assuming he was over compensating from the heat you put on him a few minutes prior. “no, i’m not,” he breathes out a smile.

“do you remember that day?” you dip your eyebrow at him.

“of course i do,”

six months earlier.

you slip into that grey shirt that hangs barely past your thighs, causing the shorts underneath to disappear. the heat within the metal surrounded home was intensified by the midday sun, making you irritated and desperate for a cold drink. you grab a can of soda from a cooler, not being your preferred means of refreshment, but better than warm tap water.

as you wipe the corner of your mouth slightly, you simmer in the feeling of the icy feeling in your palm. your moment of serenity is quickly disturbed by the front door being pushed open harshly, making you freeze in your tracks. your first thought was that it would be barry, but upon realising it was a complete stranger, your next thought was to grab that gun barry keeps under the couch cushion.

“barry, i need-” the tall mystery man speaks with heavy breaths, not being aware of your presence.

“who the hell are you?” he sounds mad to be confused, and you’re almost amused by it. given you weren’t afraid of strangers coming and going from the place, it not being an unusual occurrence, typically they have courtesy to knock.

“who are you?” you respond, standing your ground comfortably. the tall male washes his gazes over your body slowly, but snaps out of it swiftly.

“ah, rafe, rafe cameron,” he speaks quick, almost as if he has something more important to say other than his name. you let it sink in for a while, being more than thrilled to waste the home invaders time as you sip your drink. the name sounded familiar, and judging from his attire, you put the pieces together.

“oh! country club, yeah i’ve heard a lot about you,” you chuckle to yourself, knowing barry and him have a love-hate relationship.

“what have you heard?” he probes, face now taut.

“that you have money. no wonder you hang around here so often,” you return that judgemental glance he pulled on you, noting the polo shirt, then back up to his face. his hair fell over it, and his features appeared almost too perfect. it was unnerving. “and yet i’ve never seen you here?” rafe responds, still lost at the interaction he’s enduring.

“you’re way better looking than i thought you’d be,” you try to mutter, but he’s engrossed in your exchange.

“pardon?” he nods his head forward. you smile densely, placing your drink down on the coffee table behind you then waving your hand toward the couch.

“i said take a seat, make yourself comfortable,” completely dismissing his question.

you’re seated on the sinking lounge, while he opts for the single armchair beside it. you’re able to see each other this way. he taps is fingers impatiently against the wooden armrests.

“are you like his girlfriend or something?” he strings together with scepticism. you bite your cheek with a chuckle.

“sister,” you assure. he nods slowly, giving a look that says, ‘my bad’ for getting that wrong.

“good to know,” the words were under his breath but you heard. and you’re sure he wanted you to.

“so did barry say he left something for me, or?” rafe rubs his thighs, shifting in his seat. it slipped your mind, his initial agenda for being there, but you quickly come back to earth. you huff, standing up silently to retrieve the bag that barry did in fact inform you was going to get picked up that day. you walk into the bedroom that has a curtain as a replacement for a door, reluctantly taking it into your hands.

re-entering the room, you throw it onto the table, falling back into your seat. rafe leaps toward it like it was his lifeline. you rolled your eyes, pulling your knees up to your body, hugging them.

“that shit’s gonna ruin your life,” you voice.

“yeah well,” he sniffs, tucking the white packet into his pocket.

“you can thank your brother when that happens,” he gives a hopeless response, with attitude. he stands from his seat, and you follow, making your way back over to the front door.

you wanted to respond, but you’d be getting yourself involved in a sensitive topic. rafe halts between the door frame, his tall figure blocking most of the natural sunlight. you stand in front of him, one hand on the handle prepared to close it behind him, and this time lock it. you’re gazing up at him, wondering why he’s blankly staring at you.

“what?” you question, toying with the handle, apprehensive of what he’ll respond with.

“you’re nothing like him, are you?” his voice is gentle, almost like he’s only speaking loud enough for himself to hear it. your eyes are locked and it’s becoming an overwhelming feeling. you break eye contact, looking past him. there’s a sense of sadness that takes over. having always been a juxtaposition to your sibling, but often being associated, mean’t that someone seeing past the stereotype was a pleasant change. you shake your head, indicating a clear no. he nods, understanding. the silence spoke volumes.

“good. you’re too pretty for that shit,” and with that, his back was turned and he was slipping a black helmet on, momentarily returning to a stranger.

present day.

"and i still believe that,” he brushes a loose strand of hair from your eye. “so pretty,”

you’re fascinated by him. by the way you can tell that stash he was losing himself over has left his thoughts, and for a moment you remember the connection you two have. how powerful it was when he was with you, entrenched in your company.

“i know you’re trying, rafe,” you whisper, and his grip tightens. how much you believed your own words was uncertain, but the hope seemed stronger than any doubt.

“you’re the only high i wanna chase,” he uses his thumb to lift your face to him before he trails his touch along your bottom lip, gently prying your mouth open. he leans down and attaches your lips, yourself pushing toward him to deepen the kiss. you feel him smile against your mouth before you cup his jaw lightly to seperate.

“if barry comes home and you’re all over me, he’s gonna put a bullet in your head,” you look into his eyes. they’re glistening and bright, a drastic difference to how dark they were when he first arrived.

“i’ll take my chances,” before wrapping his warm hand around the curve of your neck, pulling you into another kiss, lasting for what felt an eternity.

the body heat between you intensifies. rafe rolling his hips against you every now and then, urging a response from you, and though you’re aware of the risk of that front door flying open, you dig your nails into his shoulder blades. earning a desperate groan from rafe, you’re utterly intoxicated by his touch, becoming lost and unbothered by any risk or fear.

for a brief moment you understand what he feels when that substance runs through his veins and why he chases it. in your own way, you understand that high.

#who:#rafe cameron #drew starkey #tags:#obx #outer banks #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #obx imagine #outer banks imagine #barry outer banks

403 notes · View notes

daryl-dixon-daydreams · 3 years

Photo

Words: 2,952 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: The prison (Season 3) Warnings: language, that's it! A/N: Kintsugi, aka "golden joinery" is the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery with precious materials like gold and it is strikingly beautiful. I think you'll understand why I titled the fic this at the end! Summary: After Daryl leaves with Merle, he return to the prison to find that Y/N is extremely angry with him...

Your name: submit What is this?

Your face went through a rapid series of emotions as soon as his familiar broad shoulders came into view. First was shock and surprise, and then relief to see him again and to see him in one piece, and then just... anger. Daryl shifted his weight anxiously from one foot to the next, watching over everyone crowded around him as you simply stood up and turned your back on the room and left. You walked straight out and into the row of cells, disappearing through the heavy metal door. Daryl caught Rick’s eyes and the sheriff simply tilted his head and gave Daryl a knowing look. Daryl’s attention was pulled away as Carol grabbed him into a tight hug.

He was surprised when you didn’t come back out to join in the discussion of what the hell to do next about Woodbury and the Governor. He worked up the courage to try to talk to you, knowing full well it may just be an exercise in futility.

You easily heard the familiar cadence of his steps approaching your cell and the doorway darkened as his frame stopped in the space. He gripped the edge of the cell door and anxiously chewed his bottom lip.

You were sitting on the edge of your bunk, determinedly not looking at him. “Go away, Daryl.” Your voice was quiet but there was an unfamiliar edge to it.

He shifted uncomfortably but didn’t leave. “Just—would ya just talk to me?” he ventured. He saw the muscle in your jaw tense as your teeth clenched. “What is there to talk about?” “I—’M back now. I came back,” he said. He felt sick. He wasn’t used to you being angry with him and it was completely twisting him into knots. “Yep,” you said, standing and going to the doorway. You pulled the hanging sheet in the doorway, a makeshift door, closed right in his face. “Leave me alone,” your voice came out from the cell and then he heard the springs of your bunk creak as you sank back down on it. He stepped back from the fabric and dropped his hand from its grip on the doorframe, heaving a heavy sigh. Carol stepped out of her cell, just a few doors down and looked at Daryl staring at the closed sheet in front of him. He turned at the sound of her soft footsteps. Carol’s brow was furrowed low over her eyes and she tilted her head in the direction of the staircase that climbed to the second level. Daryl’s hand clenched and unclenched in a fist and he gave your cell one last parting look before turning away to follow Carol up the stairs. She peeked at Judith in her makeshift bed and smiled. Daryl stopped beside her and looked down at the little sleeping bundle. His heart warmed at the sight of her, but his expression was still dark. Carol glanced over at him. He chewed on his bottom lip anxiously again. “She won’t even talk to me,” he drawled. “Give her a little time,” Carol said gently. “She’ll come around.” Carol sounded very sure of her assertion, but all Daryl could think was that he’d ruined things for good. “I came back,” he said, leaning back against the railing. His heart was aching with regret. Going off with Merle was stupid in the first place. Almost as soon as he’d done it he knew it was a mistake. “You being back doesn’t change the fact that you left in the first place,” Carol pointed out. “You really think she doesn’t have a right to be upset? Think about how she’s interpreting you leaving.” He gave her a questioning look. Carol straightened up and stared at him. “I understand why you did what you did. He’s your brother. He’s blood. But you leaving with him... to her it means she wasn’t worth staying for. You chose Merle, a racist asshole, over all of us, and right when we’re sitting on the edge of war against the psychopath Merle worked for. I know that isn’t really what happened. It’s not that simple, but that’s what it feels like. She thinks you leaving means that... whatever there is between the two of you wasn’t worth anything. It wasn’t enough to make you stay.”

He gulped and shifted uncomfortably. “But that ain’t true...” Carol shrugged. “That’s how it seems to her.”

Daryl ran a hand over his face and sighed again. “I really fucked up,” he growled. The grit and gravel in his voice was heavier than usual. “You did what you thought you needed to do,” Carol said, giving his shoulder a light squeeze. “Just give her a little time. She’ll cool off.” But the rest of the day, you stayed in your cell with the doorway covered. Daryl hung around hoping you’d step out so he could try to talk to you again, try to apologize and explain. He was sick with regret and guilt and worry, but you never stepped out. “Who’s on watch tonight?” Daryl asked Rick. He was thinking about offering to stay up and take both shifts because there was no way he would be sleeping that night anyway. He was too anxious. “Y/N first and then Glenn is taking the second shift. He gave Daryl a knowing look. The archer looked miserable. Rick sighed. “I’m just glad you’re back,” Rick said.

Daryl nudged his nose up in nod. “Yeah... thanks...” You’d be on guard first. You wouldn’t be able to hide in your cell forever. You could, however, still tell him to fuck off, but he had to try. Just waiting around was agonizing and he kept thinking about how in this world even the next minute wasn’t a guarantee. He had to make things right as soon as he could.

Night fell and after scraping together his courage, Daryl got up, knowing you’d be in the guard tower by now. He went to the little stove and heated up some water, pouring it over a tea bag in a mug and staring down at it. Yeah, bring her tea, dumbass. That’ll fix it. But regardless of that derisive voice in his head, he grabbed the mug and headed out to climb the narrow stairs of the guard tower, curls of steam wafting off the surface of the amber liquid. You turned when you heard the metal door from the stairwell creak open, thinking maybe Glenn couldn’t sleep and was coming to keep you company early. Instead you saw the broad shoulders of the archer coming through and you turned away and fixed your eyes on the darkness blanketing the prison yard. “What?” you asked sharply. Daryl gulped. Obviously you hadn’t cooled off enough yet. “I just—uhh.” He rubbed his hand awkwardly over the back of his neck. “I brought ya some tea,” he drawled. You kept your back to him and said nothing. He edged closer and set the tea in front of you on the table. It was then that he noticed the bandage on your upper arm. He hadn’t noticed it before, probably because you’d been wearing a jacket. Without thinking, he reached out and gently grabbed your arm. “What happened?”

You glanced at his hand on your arm and then up to his blue eyes. You felt your resolve crumbling as soon as your eyes met his. It was like some involuntary reaction you had no control over, but you tugged your arm from his grasp and shifted away from him, averting your eyes back toward the outside again. “I got shot,” you said. “What?” he urged. “The hell ya mean ya got shot?”

His voice was tinged with deep concern. “By one of those Woodbury assholes. You know, when you were off running around with Merle,” you replied. Daryl’s stomach twisted. How could he have been so stupid? If he’d been at the prison where he was supposed to be he could have protected you. What if it hadn’t just been your arm? He hadn’t even said goodbye to you... he’d just left. The hell was he thinking? You must have sensed his sudden panic because you looked over at him again and studied his face. “It’s just a bullet graze, Daryl.” Your tone was flat this time, but it was an improvement over the previous anger. “I’d rather be alone,” you said quietly. You hesitated. “Thanks for the tea.”

He gulped again. This distant tone you had was eating him alive and he felt his blood pressure rising. “Would ya just look at me at least? Gimme a chance to explain!”

You were a bit taken aback by his tone, which was now a little angry too, and you did turn to stare at him, your brow furrowed heavily now. “Explain?” You scoffed. “What the hell is there to explain? You made your choice. Your priorities are pretty damn clear. So, just—just leave me alone...”

“Nah,” he growled. “Not ‘til ya listen to me.”

You glared at him and he watched the muscle in your jaw tense as you clenched your teeth. “Actions speak louder than words, Daryl.”

“I fucked up, alright? I ain’t denyin’ that! I wanted to come back as soon as I left!” he roared. “‘M sorry!” “Sorry?” You stared at him, bewildered. “You’re sorry,” you repeated. “Yeah, well, so am I. Sorry I was stupid enough to think that maybe—” You broke off and shut your eyes, breathing in a tense breath. “That maybe what?” Daryl pressed you.

“That maybe I actually fucking meant something to you!” you yelled. There were angry tears in your eyes now and you fought to blink them away. “But if you could just leave then clearly I’ve deluded myself, because I could never do that to you. So, I guess I don’t know what this—” you gestured to yourself and then to him, “—is. Was. Whatever... apparently it’s nothing.” The archer stared at you feeling like his heart had split open. “That ain’t—that ain’t true. And it wasn’t that simple. S’not that simple.” He took a hesitant step toward you.

Your jaw was still set. “Forget it. You don’t need to explain anything to me. It’s not like we were.... together. I was stupid to read into anything. I’m—I’m done. I’ll just send Glenn up later,” you murmured, trying to storm out of the guard tower, ready to race down the stairs and leave the whole mess behind you. But Daryl’s hand gently caught you as you tried to move past him, landing lightly but firmly on your arm.

“Nah. Don’t do that! Don’t just—just dismiss this!” he growled.

You stared up at him, caught off-guard by his hand on you, by him physically stopping you from leaving. You were trying to think of something to say but your mind was suddenly blank. His hand finally dropped from your arm but instead of backing off he stepped closer to you. “This ain’t nothin’!” he argued. “And ya weren’t kiddin’ yerself. Now just stop bein’ so damn stubborn and talk to me!” You felt your resolve crumbling a little. “I—I don’t have anything else to say!” you retorted angrily. “Now let me by!” You tried to brush past him again but he stepped right in your way. “Daryl,” you growled. “Get outta the way.” “Nah,” he said shaking his head. “Ya wanna be stubborn? Fine, but so will I.”

“Move!” you yelled at him again, feeling a flush of angry heat in your face. “No,” he said again, this time catching your eyes with his blue ones.

Your chest was heaving with angry and nervous breaths. “Let me go,” you said, and this time even you were surprised by how weak your own request sounded.

Daryl stared down at you, his posture defiant, obstinate. His heart was absolutely racing in his chest and he finally couldn’t suppress the urge any longer. He clasped your face in both hands and kissed you urgently, something he’d wanted to do for so long, but even more so since he’d tried to leave. It was all he could think about. A moment later he was sweeping you into him with a hand on your lower back.

You let out a noise of surprise and stumbled back, away from him, staring at him standing there with his chest heaving. “Wh—what the hell are you doing?”

Daryl gulped. Oh shit. Had he just fucked things up worse? He gestured vaguely with one hand. “This ain’t nothin’,” he drawled, breathless from his lips on yours. He stepped toward you cautiously again, half expecting you to move away or brush past him for the exit, but you didn’t move. He anxiously licked his lips, and you felt butterflies flit to life in your stomach. “‘M sorry,” he said again.

You stared at him, a quizzical expression on your face. You wanted his lips on yours again. “Say it again,” you said softly. You stepped closer to him.

Daryl stared down into your eyes. The regret in his was plain. He slipped his fingers into your hair and clasped your face again. “‘M so sorry. I ain’t ever gonna leave again if I can help it.”

Your expression softened and you grabbed onto the front of his vest and pulled his lips down to meet yours, kissing him heatedly. Daryl’s hand landed on your lower back again and he pulled you against him, pressing forward so you were touching practically from knees to nose. His kiss was urgent, feverish. He pressed into you and you moved backwards blindly until you felt the table behind you. Daryl’s strong hands lifted you, setting you on the edge. You looped your arms around his neck and gently bit at his lower lip, eliciting a chesty growl from him. His hands wandered over your back and smoothed down your sides, feeling the curve of your waist and angles of your hips. They wandered down further and ran over your thighs, sending tingles of electricity up your back. You tugged him into you more tightly, feeling his hips pressing into the inside of your knees as you sat on the table. You slid a hand under his vest, around his back, and scratched your nails over the thin cotton of his shirt, feeling his strong, tense muscles beneath the material. He pulled back from you suddenly and your eyes opened, long eyelashes fluttering, disappointed and feeling the inches between your lips profoundly. “What is it?” you asked him, completely out of breath. He just stared down at you, not lifting his hands from your hips. “Nothin’. Just tryin’ to convince myself this is really happenin’,” he drawled, his eyes flitting between yours and your partially parted lips.

You ran your fingers through his hair and he leaned into your touch. “It is.”

He looked suddenly nervous again. “Listen, I still wanna tell ya... I can’t entirely explain it. I know Merle’s an asshole. Of course I know that... But he’s my brother. And it was almost like I didn’t have a choice in the matter. I’d already left him once in Atlanta. I couldn’t do it again.” Daryl rushed on, still in vague disbelief that somehow you’d gone from yelling at him to kissing him in a span of a few minutes. “But as soon as we were alone out there... I realized he might be my brother but he ain’t really my family anymore. Maybe he never was.”

You gulped and nodded, pressing your hand flush to his chest and feeling his racing heart beneath your fingers. “I’m sorry I was so hard on you,” you said regretfully. “I was just—hurt.”

He nodded. “I can’t blame ya. ‘M sorry.”

You looped your arms around his neck again and he gave in to the gentle tug easily as you pulled his lips back to yours. The heat built between you again and you let out a small sigh as Daryl’s lips wandered from yours to kiss your neck and the delicate skin by your collarbone, his fingers tangling roughly into your hair. You found yourself arching into him more and more and Daryl was reeling as your fingernails lightly scratched his back, even over the fabric of his shirt. But the building heat was quickly quashed by the sound of the squeaky metal hinges on the door to the stairwell and both of you startled. Daryl spun around and you jumped up from your spot on the table, accidentally knocking the mug of tea to the floor, which of course shattered and sent liquid splashing everywhere. Your entire face flushed as you saw Glenn standing in the doorway with a surprised look on his face, one hand still on the doorknob.

“Uhhhhh... sorry,” he mumbled. But his face quickly broke into a grin he tried to stifle. “I’ll just—I’m gonna go,” he said jutting a thumb back over his shoulder, unable to keep the amusement out of his voice. Daryl shifted uncomfortably next to you. Glenn turned on his heel and headed right back down the stairs and into the cellblock again.

Rick, unable to sleep with the threat of the Governor still looming, caught sight of him returning and gave him a questioning look. “I thought you were on guard duty now?” he asked curiously. Glenn smiled and laughed a little awkwardly. “Uhh, yeah, but uhh—Y/N and Daryl have got it,” he said, his eyebrows lifting. “Y/N and Daryl? Isn’t she still pissed at him?” the sheriff asked, looping one thumb into his pocket. Glenn laughed again. “I’m pretty sure they made up... Night, Rick.”

#daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon twd #the walking dead #twd fanfics #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl imagines #daryl dixon x reader #fanfics #writers of tumblr #twd drabbles

819 notes · View notes

ceciliablossoms · 3 years

Note

scaramouche with negomi please! thank you‼️

No problem!

Also I know you didn't request this Bee but I'm tagging you anyway you simp 💖 @nonbiananrywrites (Go follow them btw they're super sweet 💞)

Negroni: “Are you afraid of me?”

Just wanna put this out here that I know little to nothing about Scaramouche and don’t remember much from Unreconciled Stars djkfsfdg. I’ll be more open to doing requests for him when he comes out though!

-------

Nobody particularly cared for Scaramouche, not even his fellow Harbingers as the unlikable qualities he possessed far outweighed the redeemable ones. His actions could only be described as cold and cruel by his subordinates and the aura that emanated off of him was nothing short of stifling. Everyone listened to him without complaint for fear of his wrath and not a single person talked back or spoke against him. He relished in the fact that nobody defied him but he also found it... boring.

The way he treated those around him caused anyone who ever interacted with him to unanimously agree that he was, under no circumstances, to be trifled with. As much as he liked asserting his control over his subordinates, the fact that they blindly followed him out of fear was mundane. There was one subordinate, however, that followed him not out of obligation or fear but out of inclination He did not understand, so he confronted them.

He had approached them while they were prepping for some field work, and circled them like a predator. With watchful eyes he examined their face, for any form of hesitation, anything that gave away that they were putting up a facade. Planting himself in front of them, he grabbed their face.

“Are you afraid of me?” His glare was incredibly harsh, frigid as Snezhnayan winter, and his tone was even colder, almost threatening. Any other person would have withered at his feet, resolve crumbling to pieces, but they just stared at him and shook their head.

“No. I feel no fear around you.” Their voice never faltered and his gaze only hardened. He didn’t grasp why they didn’t harbour any of the same emotions the others did. He seemed angry, but at the same time he was... appreciative. He finally released their face, saying nothing as he stepped back.

“And why might that be?” He asked them, tone still icy yet with a curious undertone.

They pondered for a moment, trying to find the right words. “Fear inhibits work from getting done, therefore, I do not allow myself to feel such trivial emotions.”

He too pondered after that, staring at their face in interest. “An acceptable answer.” He paused for a moment, curiosity getting the best of him. “Why do you follow me?”

They had continued to get ready for their field work as he stared them down, only answering when they had finished, “It is my duty to serve both her majesty and her Harbingers.”

“An awful lie really. Don’t think I lack the attentiveness to notice you don’t listen to the others as readily” His anger picked back up as soon as the lie left their mouth.

They stopped walking just shy of the exit, glancing at him over their shoulder, “Admiration.” And with that they exited.

He stared after them, clearly not expecting such an answer but not outwardly showing it. He still did not understand them, in fact he understood them less than when he originally confronted them, but this time he felt... satisfaction.

#mine #anon #drabble #100+ followers event #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #gi x reader #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #genshin scaramouche #balladeer #genshin balladeer

157 notes · View notes

bring-it-all-down · 3 years

Text

When thinking about Eleanor Guthrie, I am continuously reminded of Audre Lorde’s essay, “The Master’s Tools Will Never Dismantle The Master’s House,” which she gave at a 1984 NYU conference on feminism. She notes in this essay that, though she was asked to be part of this conference, she is speaking on a largely white panel and to a largely white audience of liberal, feminist academic women. As a critique of white feminist academia, she states:

Those of us who stand outside the circle of this society's definition of acceptable women; those of us who have been forged in the crucibles of difference -- those of us who are poor, who are lesbians, who are Black, who are older -- know that survival is not an academic skill. It is learning how to take our differences and make them strengths. For the master's tools will never dismantle the master's house. They may allow us temporarily to beat him at his own game, but they will never enable us to bring about genuine change. And this fact is only threatening to those women who still define the master's house as their only source of support.

This quotation, I think, perfectly summarizes Eleanor’s role in Black Sails.

The show immediately makes clear to us that Eleanor is different from the typical notion of “woman” that existed at the time, differentiating herself in terms of both gender presentation and sexuality. Her clothing occupies a space between masculine and feminine, matching her approach to wielding power. Because she is a woman, she has to constantly worry about men taking her power seriously, and she uses whatever tools she possesses to hang on to this power. When appropriate, she wields this authority in the same way as a man would: she reminds pirates time and again that she controls their economic security, and should they cross her, she has the power to cut them off entirely.

Because of her womanness, though, this assertion of power is not enough. It would fall apart if she didn’t continuously reinforce it with her sexuality. Indeed, it is only through getting Charles Vane to fall in love with her and thereby betray his mentor and father figure, Edward Teach, that Eleanor is able to obtain power in the first place. She returns to this trick time and again: whenever she is in trouble, she has sex with Vane to convince him to give her what she wants. He is the necessary male authority cementing her power. She eventually comes to do the same thing with Woodes Rogers, though she actually claims to love him.

The problem with Eleanor is that, in order for her authority to exist, she must in some way tether herself to the established order of civilization. Thus, the end for this type of authority is always subservience to society. There is always a time limit to this power, and it will always result in becoming the wife of the governor, in donning the dress and manners of civilization and in thereby allowing that initial level of authority to be worn away until it does not exist anymore.

Tied to this problem is that Eleanor only wants power for power’s sake. She wants to control Nassau because she thinks she is owed it due to being the daughter of its governor. In other words, she wants to be exactly like the male authority figures of England, only a woman; she constantly worries about her father’s return because he will supplant her rule, but she rests heavily on her last name as her claim to rule in the first place. There are no principles behind her rule, no greater efforts to advance women as a whole. It is an entirely selfish venture inspired by the very customs of civilization she believes from which she exists separately.

Her claim to authority, then, rests solely on her whiteness. She fails time and again to understand that assimilation is not liberation. She fails to liberate Max, the woman she supposedly loves, because leaving Nassau behind would cut her off from her power. In season 4, when she and Max reflect on that moment in season 1, Eleanor tells her, “I was so close to saying yes…[but] I had put so much of myself into this place, in that moment, I honestly didn't know where I ended and it began. There may be ways of severing oneself in that way...sacrificing one part to save the other. But in that moment...I honestly couldn't find something sharp enough to make the cut” (4.04). When Max asks her what would have been enough, she doesn’t answer, because nothing would have been enough to make that cut. For Eleanor, whatever relationships she has will always be secondary to her quest for power, and so she constantly justifies the harm she causes others, particularly the Black people to whom she is closest, on the basis of her quest for power being good and right.

This fact is made clearer in Eleanor’s conversation with Flint while he is imprisoned. After he tells her that Madi and the Maroon Queen are alive, Eleanor becomes angry over the fact that Mr. Scott would hide this knowledge from her. She says that the power she obtained was always done so “with a man behind me doing his damnedest to bend it all to his benefit. My father, Scott, Charles, you. So many goddamn men here. Too many goddamn men here” (4.05). To her, Mr. Scott is just like every other man, exerting his patriarchal control over her. There is no acknowledgement on her part that she and her family had enslaved him and thus he did not owe her any sort of allegiance or trust.

By the time Madi confronts her with the truth–– “My father didn't mistrust Flint. My father mistrusted all of you”––it is too late for Eleanor (4.06). For her entire life, she has obsessed over the fact that her womanness differentiated her from everyone around her and has not once stopped to think about how her whiteness supersedes all of those gender-based differences. She has staked her claim to authority on the perpetuation of the white supremacist system: using her last name, tying her control of Nassau to the continuation of its plantations, betraying everyone who questioned her claim to authority, sacrificing Max and Mr. Scott and Madi whenever doing so suited her.

Thus, the very thing she attempted to prevent––a second Rosario Raid––is what ends up killing her. Through her efforts to attach her legitimacy to the white supremacist, cisheteropatriarchy that is civilization, she sows the seeds of her own destruction, as well as the destruction of those she supposedly cares for. Her use of her master’s tools results only in building yet another house for her master while leaving everyone else homeless.

#black sails #eleanor guthrie #white feminism will never save you #Madi and Eleanor being mirrors of each other is so fascinating for endless reasons #One such reason is that Madi intentionally doesn't have a last name while Eleanor clings to hers until she marries Woodes Rogers

74 notes · View notes

bigfrozenfan-fanfics · 3 years

Text

Chapter 14 - Changes

Links: Chapter overview, Character list, Map, Glossar Rating: M over all Publishing cycle: each Friday at 6:00 pm CEST dst/UTC +2:00 on (link) Remarks: all my chapters contain carefully selected music tracks. It’s your own decision if you want to use them or not while reading. The purpose is to musically support the respective mood of the plot. If you can please use a browser for reading (not the Tumblr app) due to the text formatting and music.

Yelana caught the two boys from behind as they were telling jokes and laughing out loud instead of watching the herd. She cleared her throat audibly and the heads of both of them drove around scared. They both looked at her serious face and went white as a sheet.

Yelana's gaze wandered back and forth between them, then shrugged and said in a friendly voice, “You've got nothing to worry about, boys.” Their posture then relaxed a little. Then she pondered for a moment, swayed her head in her typical manner and finally looked at them a little arrogantly. “I need a reindeer, preferably saddled and harnessed, if possible please. I'm not that young anymore.”

The surprise reaction of the two of them was priceless for Yelana's taste, but didn't let on and grinned inside herself instead. The boys stood there frozen as if rooted to the ground and could not believe their ears.

“Come on, you two, I haven't got all day!” She made a wagging gesture and frowned apparently in annoyance.

The boys started moving and less than five minutes later a saddled reindeer was standing in front of her.

She took a closer look at the animal and the saddle and nodded contentedly at the end. Then she pushed her rod under the straps of the saddle and mounted. “Take good care of all of you,” she said to the boys standing there waiting and gave them a motherly look. Then she sighed and rode off without looking back another second.

“What did she mean by that? And why is she riding away anyway?” one of them asked.

“I haven't the faintest idea. I didn't even know she could ride,” replied the other.

Both gazed after her completely perplexed.

~~~

youtube

The wagon rumbled along and nobody spoke a word. Even Olaf remained silent and looked at the passing landscape with a transfigured look. Everyone was lost deep in their thoughts except Elsa, who had fallen asleep next to her.

How could she sleep so calmly; Anna thought, and pondered the upsetting events as she absent-mindedly watched the sunset. On any other day she would enjoy it, but today it seemed to her as if it announced a night of mischief.

What would this Kolgrimr do with the Northuldra once he realized that they were already long gone and he could no longer carry out whatever plans he had in mind. She feared for the people there and if Honeymaren was right in her suspicion, they could not defend themselves against his magical powers. They would all be helplessly at his mercy.

Slowly but constantly anger rose in her. Couldn't anything go right for once in her life? Did something terrible always have to happen to them and ended up being involved? She looked over to her sister and envied her. Elsa's face seemed completely relaxed, she even smiled slightly. Was she dreaming of Honeymaren? What was between them? Of course she would not mind if a romantic relationship developed between the two of them. She knew that Arendelle was quite open-minded about relationships of this kind, there was even a married female couple, Ada and Tuva Diaz with two adopted children. What was most important to her was Elsa's well-being and she wanted nothing more than the happiness for her sister.

And now someone thought he had the right to get revenge for something they were both not to blame for. Anna cursed and at the same moment, frightened by her behaviour, held her hand over her mouth. The next moment, she looked into Kristoff's eyes, who had turned around to look at her with a raised eyebrow.

“You curse? About what?” he asked curiously.

“Oh nothing, it's not that important,” she replied quickly, waving off and feeling the situation as embarrassing. Kristoff now raised his other eyebrow, too. Apparently he didn't quite believe her assertion.

“You know you can tell me anything, honey. Just say it out loud. If I don't know what it's about, I can't help you.”

Anna sat down and nodded her head a little bashfully at last. “Yes, dear, I know, and cursing isn't usually my style either. I was just thinking about this Kolgrimr and why it is always us who are in the middle of the action and risking our lives. What do you think about this whole thing? You have been quiet all the way back and don't seem particularly frightened to me.”

Kristoff shrugged his shoulders. “We made it out of the woods in time, if all this is true, and we'll be home soon.” Then he remembered the conversation with Ryder when he warned him and he said, “I'm not worried about myself, Anna, but if there's anyone I really care about, it's you, honey. If anything happens to you, that would be the end for me, I love you.”

Anna smiled, stood up briefly and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you, Kristoff, my love. I love you too.”

They looked at each other in love for a while, and Anna actually forgot her worries about it. Eventually, he nodded with a smile and turned around again. She herself leaned back and closed her eyes. Maybe she could get some sleep after all; she thought.

~~~

They had not yet completed a third of the way home when Kristoff saw a covered wagon approaching in front of him at some distance. He turned around and pointed it out to the others.

“Wake up, folks! Look who's coming.”

Anna and Elsa startled up, then stretched their heads and looked ahead while Olaf climbed forward beside Kristoff. “Mattias is here!” he exclaimed excitedly and pointed forward.

“They were pretty fast, though,” Anna murmured and rubbed her stiff neck because she had dozed off in an uncomfortable position.

“You haven't told me much about him,” Elsa replied without looking at her. “Except that he rode back specially to get help for me.”

Anna looked at her smiling. “The General is one of the most loyal people I know, and a fine fellow too. You'll like him.”

Elsa nodded, “I'm already very curious about him.”

A few minutes later the two vehicles, standing now directly opposite each other, stopped. The two drivers sitting on the coach box looked quite surprised. Mattias rode past them and jumped briskly out of the saddle when he was next to Anna.

“Your Majesty!” he shouted joyfully and bowed to Anna, who was now standing up at the back of the wagon. “You guys are already on your way back so soon, then I presume your sister's doing well again?” He peered past Anna to have a look at Elsa. Elsa bent over, looked past Anna and waved at the General with her arm half raised. “Hello, General Mattias.” She smiled at him and mustered his appearance with quick glances without seeming immediately curious.

Trygve and Kristina rose as soon as they saw their queen, smiled and bowed to her while reciting the usual greeting. Anna nodded to them in a friendly manner, but suddenly her worries came back to her mind and her face darkened.

“I am very happy that you are feeling better, Elsa,” said Mattias and returned her smile. Then he looked up at Anna again and his smile faded when he noticed her concern in her face. “Queen Anna, are you alright? Has something happened?”

She nodded, sat down again to be largely at his eye level and said, “Unfortunately, yes, General. We were informed by Honeymaren of a serious threat and had to flee in haste. Someone is trying to kill us.”

Mattias tore open his eyes and gasped, “What? Who? Please tell me everything!” Anna explained in short words what she knew, and his face successively expressed his moods, from amazement to serious concern to clear anger.

“The Council must be informed immediately, and the garrison put on high alert. This can't be true!” He clenched his fists and turned to the covered wagon. “Turn the cart around immediately. We must return as quickly as possible. We are in imminent danger.”

Trygve's and Kristina's jaws dropped and they stared first at him and then at each other in disbelief. Kristina finally nodded and jumped off the trestle. The trail wasn't too wide here so she took the horse by the harness and pulled it slowly around to realign the cart. Then she got back on and waited for Mattias to would ride ahead of them to set the pace. She looked at Trygve with concern and he put a hand on her arm reassuring her.

“Your Majesty, if you agree, we will refrain from equipping Elsa with the camouflage clothes we brought with us, because of the hurry. We yet could also do that shortly before Arendelle.”

Anna nodded and looked briefly behind her. “I think you are right about this, Mattias. We are still near the Northuldra area, so we should hurry.” She gave her sister a quick sideways glance and squeezed her hand before looking at Mattias again. “But we are not yet returning to Arendelle. We have to make a little detour first.”

Mattias raised his eyebrows questioningly. “A detour? Where to?”

Anna bent over to him, looked at him with big eyes and replied quietly, “To the trolls, Mattias, to the trolls.”

The general's jaw dropped and he couldn't say anything more. The day had started so beautifully, and from one moment to the next, everything turned into a nightmare. Trolls ... this can't be true; he thought, and shook his head in disbelief.

~~~

He could have taken her to Gyda. Instead, he chose his hiding place by the river. He preferred not to take any risks and Honeymaren as a hostage was very valuable, even in two ways; he thought, when he recalled the scene on the beach with her and that Arendelle bitch. He grinned as he nudged the young woman in front of him to make her hurry up.

“Faster! Don't dally like that.”

She took a quick look over her shoulder, both angry and anxious. Her hands were tied behind her back and she almost tripped forward when her attention was briefly diverted. But she caught herself in time.

“Don't try any tricks,” he said in a low but threatening voice. She nodded, but didn't say a word. That's good; Kolgrimr thought, as long as she was afraid it was easier to keep her at bay. Less work and more time to make new plans.

He couldn't get that boy out of his head, that brave little guy and brother of his captive. How could it be that he had not sensed the slightest thing, not even when he had actively and intensely tried; he thought. It was almost as if a ghost apparition had stood before him. He gritted his teeth and clenched a fist. That was not good by any means. Not at all. Even with this strong-willed half breed from Arendelle, he was able to get to her spirit with a bit effort. But with him? There was absolutely nothing. Nothing at all. And that worried him immensely.

~~~

At nightfall they reached a small, well hidden kota. Light fog was in the air and a soft splash told Honeymaren that they had to be near a river. She also knew roughly in which direction they had gone, although she herself had never been in this part of the forest. Then she suddenly became aware of exactly where they were and she drew in the air sharply. The home of the earth giants!

She looked around briefly to Kolgrimr and he just nodded wordlessly in the direction of the kota. She walked to the entrance and stopped in front of it. He reached past her, pulled the flap open and pushed her in roughly, so that she fell to the bare ground inside. Then the flap closed again and she was sitting in the dark. She heard him tie the loop of the flap to the outside of the hut, then it was quiet.

She tried to spot something inside the kota, but all she saw was a pale shimmer in the opening above her. She tugged at her shackles but Kolgrimr had been very meticulous and she could not loosen them. If only she had her knife now, which she always carried hanging by her side; she thought. But he had taken it from her, of course.

She struggled herself up into a sitting position, crawled around and systematically searched the floor, hoping to find something useful. But there was nothing, not even a fur, that usually came with every good kota equipment. All right; she thought, let's try the walls. She stood up and moved along the wall with her shoulder as long until she felt like she had reached the starting point again. With her head she had also cautiously checked the wall in addition. But there was no hook and certainly not anything hanging to it to discover. She sighed unnerved and stayed stood leaning against the sloping wall for a while.

What was he up to? What would he do with her? Would he use brute force? Most likely, the way she judged him. She wasn't usually the frightened type, but she felt her eyes get wet and soon after that tears started to flow again. She sobbed softly and finally sank back to the floor. There was no escape for her, it seemed. She decided not to exchange a single word with him. She would remain mute. Even if he should slap her, he wouldn't get anything out of her.

The minutes passed in the silence of the darkness and the minutes became hours. It already had to be in the middle of the night when the rain started. At first she could only hear the soft sound the drops made as they dripped down onto the kota from the branches of the tree above. But it didn't take long and the sporadic dripping turned into a steady hissing as the sky finally opened its sluices completely.

The monotonous noise sounded very calming and soon it made her very tired. So she curled up on the uncomfortable, hard floor and fell gratefully asleep shortly afterwards.

~~~

---

I hope you have enjoyed this chapter! Please leave a comment if you liked the story, I would be pleased to read your opinions, even criticisms. If you want to be tagged as soon I publish the next chapter please let me know, except you are already tagged :-)

Tagging: @karma26 @whether-near-to-me-or-far @annaofthenorthernlights @igotelsapregnanthelp @the-fifth-spirit-elsa

#frozen #frozen2 #frozen3 #fanfic #epic novel #the broken bridge #part two #chapter 14 #bigfrozenfan

20 notes · View notes

nobodyfamousposts · 4 years

Text

Miraculous Salt: Bustier

Fair warning: There are some dark and potentially triggering things discussed. Assault, domestic violence, drug use, overdose, and attempted murder are implied if not outright mentioned.

“Today, class, I’ve asked a special guest to come speak to you!” Bustier greeted them all with a smile. She gestured to the woman next to her, a young adult they hadn’t seen before. She seemed a bit nervous awkward, but was dressed professionally and tried to appear confident.

Bustier clasped her hands together.

“Vivienne is a former student of mine from a few years back. She going to talk to us about positive examples and appropriate behavior in the classroom.”

Marinette slumped in her seat, already knowing what this was about and just whom this lecture was meant for. Bustier’s frequent looks at Marinette weren’t even necessary. The fact that several of the other students shot glances back to her made it clear they knew as well.

Apparently Bustier’s lectures to Marinette about the high road and helping her classmates weren’t enough anymore. Now it just felt like she was making a spectacle to prove a point.

The woman, Vivienne, looked to Bustier in confusion.

“I thought I was supposed to give a lecture about preparation for the future?”

“Well certainly.” Bustier agreed, smiling brightly and indulgently. “And about how a good future for everyone can be started by setting an appropriate example in the here and now.”

Several of the students around her nodded. Lila sent a smug look back at her. Marinette merely wanted to crawl under her desk.

The woman stared at Bustier in open-mouthed surprise.

“Are you joking?”

Bustier appeared startled. “I’m sorry?”

“Are you actually joking? Did you mean to tell me you brought me here. All this way. On a weekday. To give a lecture to students about your downright toxic classroom habits?”

Everyone’s eyes widened. Their mouths opened. Because…no one just talked to Bustier like that. She was a teacher! And she was so nice!

Bustier herself was frozen in shock.

“Excuse me?”

“No. No. You’re right. You had me come to give a speech to your class. Fine. I’m going to talk to them.”

She cleared her throat and turned to the class.

“Listen to me. All of you, but especially you in the back because it seems you are Bustier’s target of the year.” She said, looking around to everyone in the class though her eyes remained mostly on Marinette. “You have the right to feel angry when you are wronged. You have the right to be upset when someone hurts you. You have every right to not forgive the one who does it. It is not your fault when someone does wrong. It is not your responsibility for someone else’s choices. You are under NO obligation—ABSOLUTELY NONE to make the person hurting you feel better about it! And at some point, you need to consider what is best for yourself and your life, even if it means cutting people out of it and letting them face the consequences of their actions.”

“What are you doing?” Bustier demanded, outraged.

“Telling them the truth.” Vivienne stated flatly. “It’s the least I could do after what you did to me and my class thanks to your ‘approach’.”

“But you were a great example for your classmates.”

“No, I was their stepping stone and in some cases, their punching bag. And look how well that turned out! I’m STILL in therapy because of you!”

Bustier gaped in horror.

“Yeah, turns out that constantly pushing myself to take on the burden for everyone else’s choices isn’t actually healthy! Either for me OR anyone else.” Vivienne huffed. “And I have you to blame for a huge part of that.”

She pointed at Bustier in outrage.

“Because of you and your lessons, I lost my ability to be assertive. I became passive to the point of being a doormat, and it’s something that STILL affects me today! Because under YOUR guidance, I was taught that other people’s behaviors were MY fault. That if someone was being cruel or hurting me, it was because I wasn’t trying hard enough. That it was MY obligation to make bad people better rather than their own. And that if I tried to speak up for myself, I was the one in the wrong. Especially when you dragged my parents into things and portrayed the entire mess like it was my fault for not being okay with my treatment instead of concern over how I was being treated.”

“Now now, you’re over-exaggerating.” Bustier argued in that annoyingly placating tone.

“You made it MY job to try and better people who didn’t WANT to be better. I was thirteen! I was a student in your care! How was that supposed to be MY job? My only job was supposed to be to learn, and because of you, I’ve learned all the wrong lessons!”

She rubbed her face, frustrated and exasperated and just done with this whole thing.

“I don’t know what’s healthy or not. I don’t know when I’m being selfish or when I’m supposed to let something go. I still freeze up when dealing with people because even years later, I still have your voice ringing in my head about how I need to be ‘the better person’ regardless of whether I actually CAN.”

She stopped and took a breath. Then turned on Bustier, appearing truly angry with the woman.

“You pushed me to the point of self-destruction and said that was love.”

“I’m sorry that you apparently had a rough time of things,” Bustier fumbled. “But I can’t be held responsible for how every student turns out.”

“THEN YOU SHOULDN’T HAVE BECOME A TEACHER!”

Bustier reared back as if struck by a physical blow.

Vivienne breathed deeply, trying to get herself back under control.

“You had a position of power and authority over me. And you used it to push your responsibility on me. To push the responsibility for EVERYONE in that class on me. On top of my own schoolwork. My own issues. My own responsibilities. I had to deal with yours and everyone else’s. Their well being. Their futures. Their selfish little wants and requests I didn’t have time or energy for but was still expected to fulfill. All of that. On me. And now you’ve even gone so far as to bring me here to advocate for you doing the same thing to someone else? And you don’t see anything wrong with that?”

Vivienne gestured to her chest, agitated and hurt and just…finally letting years worth of frustration out.

“Doing what you did? Pushing things the way you did? You put an unreasonable burden on a child. All in the name of being a ‘good example’ for how other people should be. Guess what? The only thing being a ‘good example’ accomplished was showing people what to expect from others rather than anything they should expect from themselves.”

She glared at Bustier.

“I did some reading on psychology after leaving your class. Turns out the thing you missed about modeling is that it’s the ADULTS who are supposed to model for their kids, not other kids under their care and especially NOT the ones being victimized.”

Bustier forced herself to speak. “But…everyone deserves a chance.”

“You have students that struggle. It’s common. They need extra care. That’s understandable.” Vivienne agreed. “The problem is that instead of being the teacher you are supposed to be and giving them that care yourself, you instead push that responsibility on your other students when it should never have been their responsibility in the first place!”

“They can’t change and do better if everyone is expecting them to fail.” Bustier reasoned.

“Maybe so, but they’re certainly not going to change if they don’t see a reason they should. Giving bullies a free pass and then lecturing their victims on ‘being the bigger person’ after they’ve been hurt because of the bullying is NOT going to motivate the bully to change anymore than it’s going to motivate the victims to keep trying! Was it any wonder so many of your students just gave up?”

Bustier’s eyes widened in shock.

“What?”

“Yeah, it turns out that I’m not the only student who left your class with problems down the line. Big surprise, but being reprimanded for feeling hurt and being told that their feelings are less important than those of the ones harming them isn’t exactly motivation to keep going out of their way to do their best. Not in grades, which unsurprisingly fell amongst students in your class by the final year. Not in activities, which—surprise surprise! Your students stopped being invested in because you kept pushing for everyone else to work twice as hard for something that you were letting other students get full advantage of with nowhere near the same effort! Was it any wonder that I was the only one you were able to browbeat into doing anything by the end? It was because everyone else got disillusioned and stopped trying! Because you rewarded the bad students and admonished the good students if they took issue with that. They weren’t blind! They know favoritism when they see it!”

The class was staring. Unsure what to say. Or if they even should speak.

“Oh, and on the subject of favoritism. You surely remember Candace—my bully whose behavior you defended and minimized? Yeah, she’s in jail. Again. For causing a scene in a public setting. Again. And even assaulting police, which is actually a new one for her this time around. But it’s her standard behavior. It’s all she knows how to do. Because you and people like you catered to her tantrums and brattish behavior, gave her whatever she wanted, and admonished anyone who complained about how she treated them.”

“Well…” Bustier simpered. “Treating her cruelly isn’t changing her now, is it?”

“Because she’s an adult used to getting her way!” Vivienne exclaimed. “The time to teach her better was when she was young. It was when she was still a student under YOUR care! Instead, you solidified her into the messed up adult she is today! Speaking of messed up adults, how about dear old Henrik? You remember him?”

“He…he was…a perfect student…” Bustier muttered, uncertain and wary.

“Sure was. Your model student. He sure road your high horse all throughout school and even all the way to his own wedding to Delia—your OTHER favorite student to coddle. You must have been so proud of how that turned out. And even after she’s cheated on him. Among other things. He’d be the picture of domestic violence at this point…you know…if he could actually acknowledge that the relationship is even abusive.”

She sighed.

“But he still insists he can ‘change her’. That he can ‘help her be better’. And some other reasons about ‘make a bad person be good’ that sounds like the sort of tripe you fed him. You know, most of us just thought he was a wannabe stud who like having girls rubbing themselves all over him. It never occurred to us that he was uncomfortable and just didn’t know how to ask them to stop.”

Several of the students gasped in shock. Adrien in particular appeared uncomfortable, like the story was a point for him in particular. Remembering the way Chloe and Lila hung off him, Marinette had to wonder if Adrien and this Henrik didn’t have a few concerning things in common.

Vivienne, however, continued. And even started to tick off on her fingers. “Elodie joined the police force and is so caught up in her own brand of ‘justice’ that she jumps into things without thinking and a number of her arrests ended up going free regardless of the charge due to her not following procedure. Arthur was always the sort to ‘go with the flow’ rather than stand up for anything, so he ‘went with the flow’ all the way to a strip club where he spends his nights, still waiting on some new job opportunity Delia promised him years ago. Kent and Morgan were arrested for embezzlement of some charity’s funds. Michael works at a repair shop, so he has a steady job at least. Sam’s charged for property destruction from illegal street racing. Again. Vincent is claiming some close relationship with Jagged Stone that I don't even want to consider. Randall died from drug overdose last year, otherwise I’m sure you would have called him up instead of me.”

Everyone gaped at her in growing horror. Alya and Max both seemed to be looking at their phones, only to wince or appear more agitated with whatever they found—Marinette assumed it was likely proof of Vivienne’s claims. Bustier looked almost ready to faint at the news of what’s become of her former students.

Vivienne just tapped her chin.

“And you know, now that I think about it, it makes sense that you called me out of everyone to come lecture your class because I think I’m probably the only former student NOT a complete wreck—if only because I’m a few steps away from it thanks to therapy.”

She sneered at Bustier in downright disgust.

“All these people you said it was my job to save. All of them—every single one of them fell apart when I finally gave up. Though they were admittedly barely hanging on as it was while they still had me to dump on. And I’m pretty sure that I could have been a millionaire by now if I’d held firm on charging people for the things they wanted from me instead of bowing to your insistence on doing things for people for free to be ‘nice’. Or, you know…NOT wasting my time and giving up on my own opportunities to pull everyone else out of the fires they kept starting.”

Feeling the weight of everyone’s gazes on her, Bustier spoke up to attempt to defend herself.

“To make a healthy classroom—”

“Your classroom isn’t healthy!” Vivienne shouted. And it was only now that Marinette realized there was a growing number of people hovering outside the door and listening in. “It says something that we have a magical emotion-based terrorist running around and his most frequent targets other than a guy obsessed with pigeons have been your students! Hell, in the past year the majority of akuma attacks have all been from this very class! If i didn’t already know you were doing this all along, I would think you were grooming these kids to be taken by Hawk Moth!"

“They’re not...that bad...” Bustier weakly defended.

“One of your students is the girl who tried to CRASH A TRAIN! And it didn’t take me all of five minutes after entering to see you catering to what can only be a chronic liar.”

Lila immediately started the waterworks. “How could you say that about me?”

“Actually, I hadn’t pointed you out. But thanks for doing it yourself, and while we’re on the subject, GOOGLE. Five minutes is more than enough to debunk your stories. Anyone could do it if they bothered to. Which might have gone a long way in preventing the classroom from becoming toxic, Bustier, if you had helped to develop your students’ critical thinking skills so they could figure things out for themselves instead of demanding they become doormats to make other people ‘feel better’.”

“I—I—” Bustier looked almost ready to cry.

“Couldn’t be bothered to tell them they’re being lied to?” Vivienne asked, sarcastically.

“She has a condition! I didn’t want to impair her ability to make friends!” Bustier exclaimed, making the class stare at her in growing horror. Others turned on Lila in outrage at the confirmation. Lila in turn started to shrink in on herself, realizing that this had not been the best time to draw attention.

“So you protect one student by letting the rest be used and manipulated. It’s not like that can go wrong! Just ask Henrik…as soon as he gets out of the hospital.”

One student—Rose—actually raised her hand. “What…what happened to Henrik?”

“Officially, food poisoning.” Vivienne replied. “Unofficially, Delia only married him because he’s rich and good as arm candy, but she only needs him alive for one of those two things and his moral righteousness makes him less appealing as the latter.”

Bustier wobbled, her strength giving out. She quickly made it to her chair and almost fell onto it as the sheer magnitude of what was happening hit her.

“But…I don’t understand. It can’t be me. I’m…I’m a good teacher…”

“No.” Vivienne interrupted. “You’re a nice teacher. At least to certain students. For everyone else, you taught pretty words and preached about love and kindness to help build up a rose-tinted view of the world and the people in it. It’s no wonder nobody knew how to deal afterwards.”

“But…it can’t be my fault.” She insisted. “I’m only one influence! There are parents! Guardians!”

Yeah, no. Vivienne was not letting her pass the blame.

“Whom YOU spoke with. Whom YOU influenced with your position to put focus on the wrong problems—not what needed to be addressed but what you wanted to make your classroom easier for you. Parents don’t know what their kids are doing during school hours other than what they’re told is happening. And when they’re told that their kid is ‘problematic’ or ‘causing conflict’ or ‘not a team player’ but they’re not being told WHY? Or not being told that their kid is being mistreated, bullied, or outright assaulted? And those parents then turn on the kids?”

She shrugged.

“Honestly, what were we supposed to think?”

Bustier shook her head, now crying.

“I can’t fix everything!”

Vivienne stared, solemnly.

“But you could have helped. You just…choose not to.”

She looked back to the class.

“Don’t trust blindly. Stand up for yourself without pushing on others. Remember that you are allowed to have limits. And sometimes…” Her eyes fell back on Marinette. “Sometimes, it’s better to just cut out the weeds than hope flowers grow.”

With that, she turned and left the classroom, the various students and faculty listening in parting before her.

It was cold outside. Almost matching the feeling in her chest.

And yet, she let out a sigh.

“Now that’s the closure I’ve been looking for.”

And she carried on.

#ml salt #bustier salt #lila sucks #trigger warning

4K notes · View notes

caffeinated-cryptid · 4 years

Text

bishop to castle; check.

3.8k words | AO3 link | tags/warnings: suicidal behaviour, risk of falling from a height, talking someone down from a ledge, hurt/comfort, platonic roceit, positive ending.

“After weeks of moping post-POF, Janus goes into the imagination to find Roman. They end up having a much more intense conversation than he could have ever planned for.”

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

Janus hadn’t seen hide nor hair of Roman since their last argument. It was fine, probably, he justified to himself, despite how Patton had returned from their talk with pursed lips and worriedly furrowed eyebrows. He likely just needed time to process everything that had happened, and Janus wasn’t going to push that.

(His reluctance to address the issue had nothing to do with the fact that he dreaded another confrontation. Totally not.)

After all, forcing his presence on Roman now could potentially only make things worse. So instead he would just have to wait for him to come around first-- to calm down enough to be willing to hear him out without resorting to name-calling.

Janus was plenty busy anyway, what with his new position in Thomas’ life. More than smoothing over one less-than-steller relationship with a side (which Janus was collecting like pokemon cards recently, it seemed), he elected to focus on ensuring Thomas held true to his promises of self-care, which meant working with Patton more often.

That wasn’t so terrible, at least it wasn’t as bad as the him from a year ago would have expected; the side was trying harder to welcome his contributions which he appreciated. Though inadvertantly through this new partnership, he found himself being dragged into more casual hang-outs, where they would do nothing but...chat. Sharing daily anecdotes and worries and secrets about themselves. It was strangely open and the sort of thing Janus had to adjust to, but with this new friendship he had found himself in, he did his best not to ruin it.

“I’m getting worried.” Patton admitted one day, setting down the tv remote after a finished screening of some Air Bud spinoff. How Janus had been wrangled into watching that ceaseless dog series was beyond him. “I think the others might be starting to come around to you, but Roman...”

Patton didn’t need to finish his sentence, because Janus already knew what he meant. With Virgil and Logan, he’d been making an effort to try to prove his worth as a member of the team (whether or not that was working was yet to be seen, despite Patton's generous assertions that it would all work out eventually), but he hadn’t even gotten the chance do to that with the creative side. As much as he had first assumed that time and space would do the trick, it seemed like that wasn’t the case after all.

“I suppose a confrontation is inevitable.” He grimaced, knowing that this had been put off for long enough.

“Would you do that?” Patton asked suddenly, looking to him with relief. It made Janus realize that it sounded like he had signed up to go talk to Roman himself.

“Uh...” Janus tensed, his previous concerns surfacing again. “I don’t think I would be the best suited to have this conversation-”

“Oh- Pleeease? You two need to talk most of all! Besides, when I went, he wouldn’t even...” Patton trailed off, biting his lip with a pout. “...Could you try, at least? Maybe you could get through to him.”

“...Alright. I’ll go before lunch.” Janus agreed begrudgingly, rewarded by Patton’s grateful smile. Stupid puppy face. That would have to stop working eventually.

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

That was how Janus found himself in the lawless lands of The Imagination.

It had filled him with dread, knocking on the red and gold door and recieving no response. Even more so when he risked intruding anyway and seeing the wrecked state of the room, and then noticing the entrance to The Imagination wide open.

Unsurprisingly, that was where he found the side in question. More surprising was when he did, finding him sitting on the edge of the tallest turret of his castle, like he had decided to overlook his kingdom in the most dangerous way possible. Janus wasn’t so naive to assume that was all it was though.

Roman probably saw him approach as he ran the rest of the way to the castle, and that pushed him to go faster, dashing through the lonely walls of the old building until he was climbing up those spiralling stairs all the way to the top. When he finally made it, he stood there doubled over and completely out of breath as he adjusted to the high altitude winds that bit at his cheeks. He used the seconds he took to catch his bearings to figure out what to do-- his eyes never once leaving Roman’s back, who luckily hadn’t moved at all during his frantic dash. Perhaps his insticts had been wrong and there was nothing dangerous going on here. Every part of him screamed to stay and stop whatever this was though-- so he did.

“Roman.” He ended up saying once his breath had evened out, and nothing more. There was too much going on in his head to break whatever balance they currently had; too much to ask, too much to say, to explain, to defend, to try to understand.

Said side turned his head slightly to make eye-contact; not facing him, yet it was acknowledgement at least. “Deceit.” He said after a beat. His voice was cold, but not angry, and for some reason Janus would have prefered it if Roman were upset with him. Anything but this odd indifference that made him feel guilty for not summoning up the courage to check in sooner.

“Janus.” Janus corrected in an invitation to use his name. He intended it as a sign of goodwill, but Roman’s face twitched and he looked away again, this time his focus on the ground directly below.

“I came to talk.” Janus said in an attempt at a distraction. He was disheartened when Roman made no move to acknowledge him again, so he continued despite his uneasiness. "Would you please come down?”

“What? Scared, Deceit? I'm not doing anything. I'm not going to either, so you can go back to whoever sent you and tell them I’m fine.” Roman scoffed and the string of lies felt bitter in the fridgid air, enveloping him like an unwanted hug. If possible, Janus’ heart begun racing even quicker.

He wanted to protest and say that he had come of his own volition, but Janus knew that lying right now wouldn’t do either of them any good. “In that case, would you do it for my peace of mind?” He tried instead, and it earned him a wry smile, sent from over Roman’s shoulder.

“What ever gave you the impression I care about that?” Roman shot back, standing up only to turn on his heel to step down into the crenel next to him, then back up onto the the next merlon. He continued, going up and down and slowly circling around Janus like a predator would it's prey, but somehow he didn't feel like the one being hunted here. Actually, it was more like he was trying to convince a mouse that the cheese on a trap wasn't worth it. And being a snake himself, that simile was especially ironic.

“...That’s fair. We can talk like this, then. I wanted to apologize and hopefully make amends.”

Roman’s footing twisted haphazardly and Janus all but shot forward to steady him until he was given a deadly glare that froze him in his tracks.

“Stay back! You're not fooling me again. As far as I know, you'll just try to convince me to take a swan dive right of the side of this tower. No greater depth to plummet to than that, huh?"

“I- that's the complete opposite of what I want.” Janus stressfully replied, fighting against the urge to pull Roman off of the edge and end this whole thing himself, instead holding up his hands as a sign that he wouldn’t come closer. God, where had he gone so wrong go end up in this situation? He should have convinced Patton to come with him when he had the chance-- at least he probably would have had a better idea on how to get through to Roman when he was like this. Comparitively, Janus had no clue. He didn’t have the trustworthiness or the years of friendship.

“I believe you. You've already made it so clear just how much you care.” Roman replied sarcastically. Janus felt his hackles rising.

“I’m not lying! I didn't want any of this.” Janus gestured around. “There's so much I wish I could take back, but especially whatever I did to cause this.”

“Oh, Janus.” He felt a small dose of hope when Roman finally used his name, which was quickly dashed as he huffed out a laugh. “Always thinking you have a finger in every pie. Isn't it enough for me to come to this conclusion by myself?”

He continued bitterly, practically stomping his way around the edge of the tower now. “It's not like it was hard. Even an idiotic egomaniac prince like myself can tell when he's not wanted anymore. When the dream has died.”

Janus, despite the silver tongue he may possess, struggled for words in the face of Roman’s insecurity. He had wanted the anger because he had assumed it would be easier to prove that he wasn’t as evil as Roman was so keen to accuse him of being. He just hadn’t expected this issue to be so deeply sensitive. (Though perhaps he should have picked up on that hint when he saw the other side looking ready to jump to a temporary death). “Thats not true at all, you’re incredibly important and all of us need you. Perhaps we’re operating under new rules now, but that doesn’t mean you’re not wanted.”

But it seemed that wasn’t the best thing to say. Roman stopped in his tracks, his expression unreadable as he began shaking with fury or perhaps something else. “...If I’m ‘so important’, why does it never feel that way? Why am I the only one who has to change constantly for rules that can never stay the same? Why do I have to make sacrifices and tone down my voice?”

His controlled tone got louder and more stressed. “Why are my best efforts never good enough? Why are my doubts ignored? Why is it considered fair to disparage my work? To ignore the blood, sweat, and tears I put into everything?”

Janus stared in horror as Roman kept going, yelling over anything he could have possibly wanted to say.

“Why does it take this to be be fucking noticed?!”

Both of them paused when his rant reached a screaming crescendo and fat angry tears rolled down Roman's cheeks.

"...Forgive me if I'm having a little difficulty trusting what you say right now.” He sniffed, ducking his head away to wipe his eyes. The words were distant despite the soft way they were uttered.

Once again Janus was lost for what to say as he watched Roman compose himself. There was simply too much there to unpack, too many years of built-up stress and resentment. What in the absolute hell had these sides been doing all this time? “...I do wish to take some responsibility for that, though. Your hesitancy to trust again.” That seemed like a good place to start, if any.

Roman only snorted humourlessly at his efforts though, voice tired and unenthused. “I'm sure you would. It's a lot easier to sweep aside a broken vase rather than acknowledge its cracks when they’re forming, after all. That was the lesson you taught us, right?”

Janus winced at the callback to his first appearence to Thomas. He didn’t necessarily regret that day, but having it thrown back now made it feel like something to be ashamed of; seeing his lessons interpreted in such a way. “...Is that how you see yourself? Broken?” He asked instead, squashing down his indignation.

He only got silence in return. Janus swallowed, definitely regretting his hesitance to resolve this issue now.

“Roman, even though I doubt you’d trust my words, I promise that we're not trying to simply ‘sweep this aside’. If we're going with the vase metaphor, all of us want a chance to try to glue the pieces back together. Make right on all of the ways you’ve been wronged.” When that got no response, he tentatively asked, “Have you ever heard of Kintsugi?"

“...Broken pottery fixed with gold, I'm aware. But trying to apply that right now is sloppy, even for you. People are never so beautiful after being so thoroughly broken, nor is it that easy." Slowly, Roman sat down on the edge, and even though his legs were dangling over the wrong side, Janus' heart finally felt some semblance of rest. He took a step forward.

"I disagree. Kinstugi is rarely an straight-forward process either, and yet it achieves such splendid results with just a little patience and care. Which is to say... while it may not be the easiest thing to do, there’s undeniably beauty and strenght in survival. Trying again even when it feels impossible.”

“Of course you'd think that, Mr. Kill or be killed. You have no choice in whether you get to continue forward. But I do.”

Janus paused at that, only four paces away from Roman now. The creative side startled when he peered backwards and saw him so close, and then he glared at Janus as he stood up again, this time facing him fully. His foot slid backwards until the worn-down structure crumbled under his heel, sending rocks tumbling down below. It was a warning, Janus realized as his blood frooze in his veins.

“Don’t look so shocked. I control everything here, or did you forget?” Roman smiled. It wasn’t a happy smile or even a smug one; it only looked like he was stretching his mouth unnaturally, all pretenses of putting on a convincing performance stripped away. “If I want, I could have a Pegasus fly by and save me at the right moment. Or I could expand the moat to catch me. Or..."

Roman looked frustrated for a second when he couldn't think of anything else, even more so when Janus patiently waited for him to think of another example. In the end, he gave up.

"The point is, I call the shots about what happens to me."

"But would you? Save yourself?" Janus questioned hesitantly. He knew he was treading on thin ice, so he left it there. Roman raised an eyebrow at him and he returned it, making it clear that he wanted an answer. He recieved it with a scoff.

“Of course I would. What kind of question is that?”

Lie.

Janus winced. “Roman... You are aware of my ability to detect lies, yes?”

The creative side blinked in surprise and then looked at him with wide eyes, as if he hadn’t expected to be called out. Like it had been so natural to brush aside the question that he didn’t even realize his own feelings. Fortunately, Janus’ ability was too keen to be fooled by one’s own self-deception. He could see below the surface like that; pull people’s hidden truths from them and keep them for himself, like a keeper of forbidden knowledge (Though in moments like these, sometimes he wished he couldn’t. Ignorance truly is bliss).

“Should I ask again?” He pressed. “Are you really planning on saving yourself?”

This time Roman’s face screwed up in confliction and he directed his gaze to the floor of the tower. It was an awfully clinical way to ask, but it felt necessary to stop dancing around what was important-- this casual show of self-destruction.

Eventually, the other cracked with a tired huff of laughter. Sadly genuine this time.

“...It's certainly nice to think that I could.” Roman admitted as he rubbed his face, apparently not mad at being called out this time. “Finally being a hero again, even if it's only to myself.”

Janus paused in shock. Was he still misinterpreting that moment?

“That wasn't a lie.” Janus blurted out, taking even himself by surprise by the thoughtless exclamation. “Thomas still thinks of you as his hero. There’s no need to do things like this to prove it.”

Romans eyes went watery and he avoided his gaze.

“At this point I don't think it matters, when I haven’t been acting like it at all lately.” He whispered coarsely, uncharacteristically quiet compared to the wind. “Frankly, I'm surprised you're even trying to stop me."

Janus eyes softened and he took another tentative step forward, then another when Roman didn't react badly. “Why wouldn’t I? I’m not just Deceit, you know. Part of my job is to help you.”

“...Because you hate me? At this point you have more reasons to than not.” Roman explained warily, looking at him like Janus were seconds away from snapping and shoving him over the edge. It hurt to have that sort of mistrust placed on him, but at the same time Janus understood it. He had often been in that sort of situation before; doubting the safety of opening up to other people. That was just part of his job, to be doubtful and wary in order to protect the self. Yet to see it so openly on somebody else felt like a punch to the gut, even though he should have been used to that feeling of being distrusted by now.

“Do you think me so sensitive that a schoolyard insult would make you my archenemy? Or being called evil? That is...sort of what I’ve been going for.” He cracked a joke, gesturing to his outfit. When Roman kept staring at him he sighed. “Of course I don’t hate you, Roman.”

Roman shifted doubtfully. “That doesn’t mean you like me, either. Maybe it doesn’t mean much to you, but you should know how- how being called that hurt me.”

"...Yes.” It was Janus’ turn to be uncomfortable. “Perhaps at first I felt attacked and wanted to make you feel the same hurt, but I would never have said that had I known just how deeply it would have impacted you. I’m sorry for that.”

Roman’s expression turned incredulous, like he couldn’t believe Janus had apologized. “...You know, I wanted to make you upset. I wanted you gone.”

“I figured.” Janus nodded.

“And that doesn’t change anything? Even though I acted so...” Roman bit his lip. “So unheroic?”

Janus stifled a sigh. By now, he really hated that word with a passion. It had caused so many high standards, so many instances of self-sacrifice, so many misguided attempts at selflessness and perfection. Perhaps later they could talk about it all and lay out why it had done so much harm, but for now he decided not to push it, not when he felt so close to getting a breakthrough.

“Believe it or not, but I think that you've been plenty heroic already. This whole time you've been fighting for something you thought was valient and noble, and that means something, even if it was for a misguided cause.”

That took Roman off-guard. He moved his foot away from the edge subtley, and had Janus not been focused on his face, he would have considered it a small victory.

“...What’s the point of all of this, really? Is this some... some dastardly plot?” Roman questioned skeptically. He was looking even more cornered now that he was letting Janus’ words sink in.

“All I'm here for is to offer the helping hand you need, if you’ll accept it.” Janus said softly as he extended his hand up to him. “Really, my only plot right now is to get you off that ledge before you give me a heart attack. Please?”

Roman stared at him, desperately trying to find some sort of mistruth in his eyes before his gaze lowered to the outsretched hand. It felt like time slowed in the seconds he was making his decision and Janus held his breath, waiting...wating... until finally the other side nodded and took his hand.

With Janus’ help, Roman stepped down, looking confused and lost now that he was away from the edge. The expression pained Janus’ heart, so he opened his arms half expecting rejection, only to be taken back by how quickly Roman latched onto him. Janus wasted no time clinging back, so relieved that he actually suceeded that he didn't want to risk ever letting go, like this moment could be torn away at any second. It was no surprise when he felt the other’s chest jerk with held-back sobs until there was a wetness on his shoulder, and he didn't say anything about it. He didn't need to either, because Roman spoke up first.

“It didn’t mean anything. Really!” He exclaimed through messy tears. “I was only thinking about it!”

Lie.

“...It's okay if it was more than that.” Janus soothed, patting his back. “It's okay to feel low and in need of help.”

That made him cry harder and Janus was relieved to see the excess of emotions finally pour out. While waiting for Roman to calm down, he had to fight for his own tears to not spill over. Inevitably, the stress of the situation finally caught up when the adrenaline wore off, and he sagged into the hug, sniffling quietly and trying not to fall over on his aching legs. He really just sprinted up multiple flights of stairs, didn’t he? Belatedly, he realized that he must have lost his hat at some point during the journey because he could feel the wind tousle his hair.

It would have been funny if it weren’t for the absolute rush of emotions he had just gone through.

The two of them stood there for what would normally be considered an awkward amount of time, except the act of simply hugging on solid ground was the biggest comfort in the world, too much to ruin the moment. They waited until they got through the worst of their tears before they dared speak again. Once again, Roman went first.

“Sorry for laughing at you back then.” He said, voice reflecting the yelling and crying he'd been doing. It felt genuine. “I actually really like your name...the mythology suits you. Very dramatic.”

Janus laughed wetly, finally a true statement. “Why, thank you. And I apologize for where I’ve wronged you.”

Finally, they straightened up. Roman took one look at him and summoned hankerchiefs for them both. Janus accepted it and wiped away his tears as gracefully as he could.

“Hopefully we can have a more in-depth discussion on this later, but for now Patton and I prepared lunch, if you’d be willing to have us.” Janus asked, hopes raised.

“...That sounds good.” Roman smiled.

Janus smiled back.

Together, the two of them descended down the steps of the tower, and the imagination was the slightest bit sunnier when they reached the outside.

#my writing #sanders sides #platonic roceit #janus sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #roman angst #roman stans come get y'alls juice #(i wrote this in a Mood so if this is janky i'm sorry)

327 notes · View notes

bssaz97 · 3 years

Note

The Grimm Hound tries to kidnap Oscar only for Gerald and the other Grimm pets to stop it before it gets away.

Jaune: Oscar! *draws Crocea Mors and revs up the Hoverbike*

Yang: Wait no! He’s using Oscar as a shield!

Jaune: Wait… is this one like…?

Ren: *points Stormflower at the Hound* Let him go!

The Hound: (growls and grunts) …..No.

Ren gasps in horror, both Yang and Jaune’s eyes widen in shock as well. This Grimm had not only exhibited a capacity for high intelligence, but also could speak.

The Hound begins to walk away with the unconscious boy in hand, but before it could move any further, it stopped in its tracks.

It smelled a new scent, several. They weren’t human or faunus. There were Grimm nearby….

*whistle*

“Oi dipshit!”

The Hound turns towards the direction of the voice and is immediately met with a can to the face. The offending object falls to the ground, clanging on to the street.

“Up here!”

The Hound looks up and sees that the voice was coming from up high on one of the light posts… from a Grimm parrot.

Eric: Ha! And they were saying you’s was smart! My beak! Can’t even dodge a tin can!

The Hound: (growls)

The Hound crouches down and instantly it leaps up at the light post in anger.

Eric: Oh shit! *flies away*

The Hound: (growls) *leaps to the ground*

Jaune: Eric?! What are you doing here?!

Eric: Asking myself the damn same question! AH! *avoids a swipe from the Hound* What the hell’s takin’ so long you big lug?! Get over here already!

The Hound is about to strike once more at the flying pest. But before he could, another scent appeared. It was approaching, no… charging. Fast!

Before it could react, the Hound gets rammed by a large mass that hits its left side, causing it to slides on the street.

The Hound shakes its head and looks forward, sniffing the air. This was another Grimm. A BIG one!

Rising on its two hind legs, the large mass reveals itself to be a larger than average Ursa Major.

But to some, it was referred only as-

Jaune: Gerald!

Gerald: *ROAR!*

Eric: *lands on another light post* About fuckin’ time ya got here! The hell took ya so dang long?

The Hound: (growls)

Gerald: (growls)

Gerald lands back to stand on all fours again, preparing for another charge.

The Hound having no patience to waste any more time here, it forced its body to contort until two wings formed on its back.

Leaping to the air, the Hound leaps into the air with Oscar and-

“SQUAK!”

The Hound growls as if feels one of its legs being held back, turning it meets the gaze of a very large Nevermore, staring at the Hound with its cockeyed gaze.

Jeremy: SQUAK!

With a mighty tug the Hound found itself being pulled along and thrown back towards the ground at high speeds.

*CRASH!*

The Hound: (groans and growls)

The Hound gets up, still holding onto the farm boy that its master wanted. It shakes head for any rumble off and before it can do anything else, the Hound gets leaped onto by a mere Beowul from behind.

Ben claws at the Hounds’ face and neck, then bites down onto its neck, causing the Hound to cry out in pain!

The Hound let out an angry roar! It reaches behind its back and grabs onto this damned traitor’s fur sinking its claws into its skin.

Ben: *Pained growl*

The Hound now having a tight hold of the Beowulf, flings the beast over its shoulders and into a nearby wall!

Ben: *pained whine*

The Hound: (growl) ...Bad Dog!

Ben struggles to get up, it lets out a howl but the Hound steps on his chest. The Hound lets out a loud roar to assert dominance, expecting the Beowulf to whimper or back down. What the Hound instead found was that the Beowulf stared coldly at the Hounds gaze, even going as far bare his teeth at it, showing it that there’d be no surrendering.

The Hound: …Foolish.

It cocks back its claw, planning to finish off this defiant Beowulf off once me for all.

But before it could, the Hound smelt a familiar scent. It found itself being rammed into again by that damned Ursa once again.

The Hound found itself being in a wrestling match with this Ursa, its overall size giving a clear advantage. It tries to claw at the Ursa’s sides but Gerald has been in many fights before with other Grimm, so his fur was thick and not so easily pierced.

Gerald slams the Hound into the ground and sinks his teeth into its muscular neck!

The Hound: *Pained Roar!*

Gerald doesn’t relent, and keeps biting until he tears a piece of flesh from the Hound’s neck!

The Hound lets out a howl of pain, slowly turning into a painful whine.

The Hound: …Finish… it.

Gerald spits out the flesh that he had in his mouth, he stares into the Hound, as it lays down vulnerable… weak.

Gerald: (growls)

The Hound feels the Ursa press it’s paw firmly against its body, leans down towards him and…

Grabs the unconscious Farm Boy from its grasp.

The Hound could do nothing, it lay there not having the strength to even fight back, having sustained such serious injuries from the many Grim that now surrounded it.

Gerald holds Oscar by his jacket collar, he releases another menacing growl towards the Hound, a warning.

Then after the Hound later it’s head back down, Gerald and his pack left the Hound on the ground in its shame.

Eric: I still think ya outta finish off that bastard by the way.

Gerald: (growl)

Eric: Oh don’t ya give me that! Ya know damn well that I ain’t crazy enough to try to finish the job myself.

Ben: (pants… barks!)

Eric: I was plenty useful! Given that I had ta distract his ass when you bastards were takin’ forever to get here.

Jeremy: SQUAK!

Eric: I hate all ya’s…..

Yang: Jaune. What the hell did we just see?

Jaune: Pretty sure it was a Grimm throw down.

Ren: But how did they know we were here?

Gerald: Rah! *drops Oscar in front of them*

Jaune: Instinct? Look, let’s just get Oscar out of here and continue to evacuate Mantle. Sound good?

Yang: Ok… man, am I glad we didn’t throw out the big guy when he was just a cub. Or his brothers.

Eric: *lands on her shoulders* Oh please. You wouldn’t be able to resist our good looks Toots.

Yang: *eyes turn crimson* Call me that again, and I’m turning you into fried Chicken…

Eric: Alright! Alright! Yeesh, and you’re supposed to be the funny one. *flies off her shoulder*

Gerald: Rahhh!

-Fin-

A/N: Never done a Grimm brawl of this magnitude before, I hope it reaches up to y’all’s standards. It was really fun to make this and hey, I’m glad that I was able to make something with Gerald and everyone in it again!

#rwby #jaune arc #lie ren #yang xiao long #rwby: gerald the ursai au #gerald the ursai #rwby gerald #grimm pack #eric the parrot grimm #jeremery the nevermore #ben the beowulf pup

43 notes · View notes

i-growl-growl-growl · 4 years

Note

Can I have an nct yandere reaction to the members having a s/o who is quite shy and quiet but she becomes more open up to people when they get to know them. But their s/o is finding it hard to be less shy around them since they're lowkey scared of them... Sorry if this doesn't make sense, thx u 💕

—————————————————————————-

Sorry this took soooooo long.

~Ahreum Rhea

Warrning this contains Yandere themes. Read at your own risk.

—————————————————————————-

Taeyong: His reaction depends on how long he’s had you. If it’s in the beginning, he wouldn’t mind and would love that you don’t open up so easily to others. However, if he’s had you for a while, he’ll get irritated and impatient. Don’t get him wrong, he loves talking to his s/o, but he’ll never show how much because he doesn’t want your fear to completely subside. He can’t have you thinking that you have any power in his house.

“I appreciate the fear you have for me, but you should know me enough by now. Come here, kitten pats his knee and talk to me. You have more to fear by staying quiet than by talking - unless you say something stupid, so, watch your words. The only time I want you to be quiet is if and when I instruct you to do so, understand? I understand you being quiet since I’m not much of a talker myself, but don’t test my patience. If I get too bored, I might just find someone else.” He squeezes your thigh a bit tighter than you’d like.

Yuta: Yuta, like Taeyoung, would love that you don’t open up to others since he wants you all to himself, but he would quickly grow impatient- quicker than Tae. Despite this, though, he’d find your fear of him to be cute, charming, and quite the turn on. He’s never felt like this before for anyone. You stir up his lust and desire for you even more when you cower in fear and cry for him and he’ll never get enough. That’s when he’ll decide to keep you all to himself; forever locked away in his home.

“God, you’re irritatingly quiet. Speak my little cherry blossom, I want to hear that sweet voice of yours. You know I love when you talk to me and, unless I tell you specifically not to, you can always come and talk to me. Though, I do love seeing the fear in those beautiful eyes, and those tears- I may just have to have you hold that thought for a few minutes, smirks. Your skin is looking too bare for my taste.”

Johnny: He’s cool for a while with you taking your time to open up to him and think’s your shyness is adorable. He’s got a bit more patients for this sort of thing since he’s arguably one of the most laid back yandere’s. This doesn’t mean it’ll all be butterflies and rainbows, though, he can be dominating and will intimidate/scare you into opening up more.

“Hm, you’re quite shy, aren’t you, little one? It’s so adorable. Steps very close to you, backing you against the wall, staring down at you the entire time You know, before he died, that guy you liked said that you loved (something you love). Do I need to start asking the people you care about for information about you or will you talk to me? You’re so cute when you’re scared, Iove it.”

Taeil: Although he’s one of the more ‘gentle’ yanderes, in my book, he’ll have his moments where he’s just as forceful as some of the others. Being older and more mature/understanding, he’ll give you time to slowly come out of your shell, but you’ll never be able to go out until he can trust you, which requires you to corporate with him.

“Tell me more about you y/n. You don’t talk much. The last time you really talked to me was before I brought you home, where you belong. I gave you time to open up, but I’m starting to lose my patience. I don’t want to lock you away, but I will. So, please, open up more, alright? You’re not going anywhere until you do.”

Mark: This won’t fly with him at all. He doesn’t care that you don’t open up to others, as you shouldn’t, but not opening up to him is unacceptable. Since he’s sadistic and bossy, he could find your fear to be a turn on just like Yuta- he’s got a dark kind of kinkiness too that’ll make living with him even harder, on top of him controlling every little thing you do and threatening the ones you love.

“You can open up, you know. Actually, you don’t have a choice, I’m the only person you’re going to be talking to, so you might as well. Unless you wanna spend a few nights in the basement. Sees that you’re afraid Are you scared? He asks with feigned concern as he approaches. He begins to smile as he stares at you Good. You should be. Now talk before I start hurting you..”

Doyoung: He’d be annoyed with you. He feels that your fear is necessary for the sake of your obedience, but he hates you not being open with him. He’d be accepting of your shyness, thinking that it was kinda cute, but he’d become demanding and protective. Something about your shyness and fear would make him want to shelter you.

“Sighs See, this is why I took you. Well, you’re mine anyways, but you’re so quiet and so shy that the world would just love to destroy you. Believe me, you’re safer here than you are out there. I’m just trying to protect you, so why are you so scared of me? I won’t hurt you unless you give me a reason to and, well, you’re starting to give me a reason.”

Jaehyun: He’d take his time to get you to open up, maybe being light on punishments and pampering you here and there would make you warm up to him faster. He’d still assert his dominance, but he’d go easy on you at first, letting you get away with more than he would in the future. He doesn’t want to scare you too much yet.

“Hey, love. You want to go and get ice cream? We can go out and have a nice long talk about whatever you want, I just want you to open up more for me, ok? Try anything stupid, though, and I’ll drag you back here and chain you to the bed, got it? Good. Be a good girl for me and you’ll get a nice little reward.”

Jungwoo: Soft baby yandere will be a soft baby yandere. Because of this, you’ll be fooled into opening up to him rather quickly because of how cute and harmless he seems. He’ll slowly start revealing his true nature once you two become more and more of a thing. Jungwoo isn’t as innocent as he plays to be, and you’ll start to see this and become afraid of what he could do. He’d remind you a bit of Taeyong, sometimes..

“Aish, y/n, you’re so cute and quiet, anyone could get one over on you. That’s why I decided that you’ll stay with me from now on, it’s for the best. You don’t want to? Aww, you don’t really have a choice, hun. Don’t worry, though, I’ll take good care of you so long as you just love me back the same way I love you.”

Jeno: It doesn’t bother him at all. He prefers you this way because he himself is kinda quiet, calm, and reserved. This is mainly because he’s got a bit of a temper and darkness that he suppresses, and he’d hate to unleash it on you, so being shy and compliant will be best for you and him in the long run. He honestly thinks your fear of him is kinda cute and it always puts a smile on his face. Did I mention that he’s dark af?

“I made us some hot chocolate; hope you like it. Careful, though, it’s very hot. Chuckles You’re cute when you’re scared- come here let me hold you. Let’s watch a horror movie; I think it’s fitting for a night like this. Ever seen Human Centipede? Oh, you’re in for a treat little one, grins.”

Jaemin: Surprisingly, he’ll be nice and not too pushy. He’s just happy to have you with him and, knowing how you don’t open up to others, he’ll feel more secure, but he’d still want you to talk to him, though. He’s not worried about you being scared because he kinda likes it in a weird way. It means he’s got more control and that always pleases him.

“I wish you would talk to me more. How can I properly take care of you if I don’t know everything about you? I remember seeing you dancing in your room, but you were wearing headphones. What was the song, love? I’ll play it for you, and we can dance together. Do it for me and maybe I’ll take you out. Deal?”

Jisung: This boy will be excited but worried because he doesn’t have to worry about anyone taking you away, but he’d also dislike you being too afraid of him. A little fear is fine, but if you were really scared then he’d have a problem with it. He’d honestly try to be a little less intimidating.

“Hey, I got you a teddy bear. I know you’re scared still, so I wanted to give you something to cuddle with until you’re a bit more comfortable with me. You honestly don’t have to be scared unless you try anything stupid, which it doesn’t seem like you will, so you’re fine. I bought some cookies too, if you want any. They’re your favorite.”

Renjun: Hot and cold, angry then calm, he’d teeter-totter between being aggressive and mad at you and being completely fine with your quietness. He can’t decide if he enjoys or hates it because he loves that you made it easy for him to swoop you off your feet and have you all to himself but he’d hate the time it’ll take for you to open up to him. He’ll grow impatient and become more intimidating- making it worse.

“Damn it, will you speak?! For crying out loud y/n, you’re really annoying! I only want to get to know you, is that too much to ask? I won’t hurt you unless you give me a good reason to, and you’re starting to give me a good reason. Maybe Haechan was right, I may have to be more forceful with you.”

Chenle: 100% Fine with it. He’s like that himself, so he doesn’t blame you- similar to Jeno. However, Chenle isn’t nearly as dark, he just enjoys the peace and quiet and appreciates the slight fear you have for him because it means less trouble for him. He also knows it means that he’ll get the chance to be your knight in shining armor by proving that he’s the sweetest bf in the world. Don’t underestimate him, though.

“It’s ok, you know you’re safe with me, right? I want to see you smile, not be scared. Although, some fear is better than none because I really just want the best for us, and I want you to give me a fair chance. Want to play this game with me? I bet you’ll be good at it, you’re very smart. I’ll even hold you while we play adorable smile.”

Haechan: The man has no patience; you won’t have a choice but to open up because he’ll be on your ass 24/7 (literally and figuratively). In fact, that’s why he kidnapped you- you weren’t opening up to him fast enough and he got riled up when he saw you giving all your attention to others- it pissed him off to no end. Haechan is competitive, relentless, rough, and intimidating and would terrorize you- and anyone else for that matter- to get what he wants. Your fear of him doesn’t always do much to soften him either.

“Yanks you to his side SO, what do you want to do today, y/n?…Well..? Speak up! You know I hate repeating myself so don’t make me do it- you’ll only get punished. Huffs You used to give all those so called ‘friends’ of your’s attention, and even that lame excuse for a man, but you can barely talk to me?! You’ll be staying inside until this behavior changes.”

Lucas: High key loves the fear you have for him but he’s a bit conflicted. As much as he loves seeing the fear in your eyes, he craves your attention so bad. He’ll end up scaring you into opening up to him because you’ll fear what’ll happen if you don’t. He’ll threaten you, your friends, family- if you’re still seeing them-, and anyone/anything dear to you.

“I guess you wouldn’t mind if your friend goes missing. Maybe a relative? Ah, decisions, decisions. I’m feeling like giving you some bruises too- don’t think for a second that I wouldn’t. It’s been a while anyways, and I’m missing your screams- OH, speaking of screams, your guy friend screams like a girl! Almost sounded like my ex when she was dying HAHA!”

Hendery: Wants you to fear him, maybe a bit more than love him. You’d be terrified for a good reason. He’s merciless and vindictive as hell. Like Lucas, he’ll scare you into opening up but, unlike Lucas, he wouldn’t show this side of him from the get-go. All his desires will have to wait a while. He’ll trick you into thinking that everyone you trust has left you, when he’s really either brutally killed them or turned them against you. You’ll run into his arms- the only person you feel you have left.

“Shhh, it’s ok, I’m here. You still have me here for you and I promise I won’t ever leave you like those so called ‘friends’ have. If you would like, you can come stay with me for while until everything blows over. It’ll probably be best since everyone’s against you. Being alone could be dangerous, you know, and I want you to be safe…You’re beautiful even when you cry..”

Yangyang: Could care less about you being afraid of him. It’s not like you’re going anywhere, so he knows that he’ll break you outta that phase. All he’s got to do is slowly deprive you of everything, including him, for a while and you’ll come crawling. Simple. Once that’s over, he’ll convince you that he’s the only one who loves you.

“See? I’m the only one who still loves you y/n. Everyone else would see your actions and would think you’re crazy, but not me. I know you’re feeling lonely and crazy, and I want to be here for you through all your pain. I love you y/n. You believe me, don’t you? Good. Let’s go home, you’re living with me from now on..”

Winwin: Hates that you’re scared of him and would play innocent as if he’s a naïve and harmless boy. Like he’s really a softie who needs love, manipulating you in the process. In reality, he’ll threaten your friends behind your back and play the victim, guilt tripping you if you try to confront him, blaming your friends for your thoughts towards him and, ultimately, causing you to push everyone away. Now he’s got you.

“They’re so mean to me..I-I don’t know what did pout. I didn’t do any of those things, y/n, you know I’d never hurt anyone. Maybe they don’t like me because of how much I care for you? They could be jealous, you know. I don’t know why else they’d want to break up such a good thing between us. Maybe they’re the ones that need to be kept at a distance; don you think?”

Ten: Clinginess x1000. You’d swear that someone was watching you nearly everywhere you went, watching your every move, and even some of your things went missing. You begin to suspect that it was Ten’s doing because of his rep as a bad boy with connections and the amount of information he knew about you. However, Ten is a master manipulator, so he’ll make you think you’re losing it by telling you that you’ve already told him before despite you never doing so. He’ll do something similar to Hendery, in which, he’d make you feel like you weren’t safe being by yourself and that you should stay with him because he knows how to protect you since, you know, he’s a bad boy himself.

“Shit, maybe you should stay with me from now on, don’t you think? Whoever they are, I can handle them easily, you know that, right? I can’t imagine why someone would target you, but I’ll make sure you’re safe first before figuring this out. I got you…don’t worry..”

Kun: Kun, being the cautious yandere that he is, would take his time to get to know you before showing his true colors. He’d squash all your fear for him in the beginning because he came off as such a nice guy that you deemed him harmless, even considering him a good friend. Once he’s sure about you though, he’ll begin to speed things up and steering you into a relationship with him. Once you move in with him, he’ll begin to show his true colors, scaring you back into wariness.

“What’s wrong y/n? Don’t like my true colors? I wasn’t completely lying all this time, you know. Much of me is still the same, it’s just that now you’re seeing all of me, including my uglier side. Don’t give me problems and you won’t have any. Try to leave and I’ll drag you back here myself- good luck though, the town is a few miles from here.”

Xiaojun: This psycho stalker already knows everything about you. He was well aware of your personality and, in fact, he loved it because he could have you all to himself and not have to worry too much about anyone else. Though, once he sees that you’re afraid of him, he wouldn’t blame you or even be angry because he knows damn well that he’s sick. What he will do, though, is kidnap you because your fear could be what ruins everything if you draw attention to yourselves.

“I don’t blame you for being afraid- you should be. You have every right to be, but if I had let you continue to be free, things would have gotten a little messy. You wouldn’t want me to kill your friends, would you? Of course not. If you cooperate, then I won’t touch them. Piss me off and I’ll hurt them and make you watch. Got it? Good, now pulls you close, time for your first mark..”

#yandere kpop #kpop yandere #yandere nct #nct yandere #yandere reactions #kpop reactions #nct reactions #yandere wayv

259 notes · View notes

hskrealm · 4 years

Text

disturbance. (pt. 2!)

request by @taekooklover301

It is advised that you read part one first. Happy reading!

warnings: humiliation, degradation, choking, hair pulling, spanking, liiiitle bit of spit play, NAME CALLING, possessive behaviors, cum play (maybe), assertion of dominance, mentions of death, namjoon fucking you quickly because you’re a fucking brat, etc.

word count: 1.9k

“How about we try some role play?” Namjoon offered as he opened the door to his infamous torture room.

He’s mentioned it multiple times to you before today. You were beginning to wonder if it was really what he cracked it up to be.

“That’d be fun.” You shrugged, taking a glance inside of the room when he stepped aside and gestured toward the doorway.

You turned your head to look at him and raised an eyebrow. You couldn’t see a single thing.

It was just... darkness.

Namjoon laughed and playfully rolled his eyes.

“Just take a few steps inside, won’t you? There’s nothing near the door that could hurt you.” You turned your head back toward the doorway.

What the hell did he mean by that?

You tried squinting and jutting your head forward just a bit, but you still couldn’t make anything out.

“You’re wasting my time.” Joon murmured, while picking up his foot and using the sole of his boots to nudge you into the room.

You stumbled inside, nearly tripping over your feet as you attempted to balance yourself.

He shut the door gently behind himself as he entered.

You stood awkwardly as you waited for him to direct you to do something, or at least turn a light on or two. The longer you were in the dark, the longer it would take for your eyes to adjust when he finally turned the lights on.

You registered the sound of a few soft footsteps against some sort of material. Your hearing was heightened due to your sight being (nearly) taken away from you.

You jumped as you felt Namjoon’s long fingers tugging away at the robe that sat over the top of your lingerie.

“Here’s what I’m thinking we do, sweetheart.” He pushed your head to the left, using his knuckles to gently caress the skin on the right side of your neck before continuing.

“Why don’t you play as my toy for a little bit?” He wrapped his arms around your waist and tucked his head into the crook of your neck.

“Shouldn’t be a difficult task for you, really. I wanted to give you a simple role for your first experience in this room.” He ran his fingertips over your hips and up to your nipples, relishing in every gasp and moan you let out as he twisted and tugged them.

“Believe it or not, you aren’t the first person to enter this room.” You hadn’t realized you had your eyes closed until you opened them.

Way to kill the mood.

“You will be the first person to make it out alive, though.” He spoke nonchalantly, as he tugged the straps of your bra off of your shoulders.

“What?” You asked immediately. Namjoon chuckled at your obvious confusion.

“I call it a torture room for a reason, honey.” You shivered at his response, as he removed all touch from you and walked toward the entrance of the room to turn on the lights.

“Fuck.” You cursed as you brought your hands up to your eyes to cover them. The light was just as bright as you expected it to be.

Once you grew comfortable, you removed your hands from your eyes and took a look around the room. It certainly wasn’t what you expected-- instead of something out of a Pornhub shoot, you were met with what resembled the setup of all of the other bedrooms in the house.

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion as you walked further into the room.

“This is what you kept up all of that talk about?” You spoke in disbelief as you crossed your arms and turned over your shoulder to look at your boyfriend. He clenched his jaw angrily at your apparent defiance.

“Yes, it is. Is there a problem with that?” You shook your head, unable to contain the giggles that left your mouth as Namjoon approached you.

“I’m not sure what sort of torturing you could do in this room, Joon.” You turned around again to view the setup of the room, as your boyfriend took that as his opportunity to grab a fistful of your hair a drag you toward the bed.

“OW! JOONIE--”

“The scene starts now.” He growled, as he tossed you onto the bed like a rag doll.

“But I--”

“Toys don’t talk, slut.” You immediately retracted, settling into the sheets of the bed as your panties stuck to your core due to the anticipation of this exact moment.

With practiced ease, Namjoon grabbed some rope and a pair of scissors out of the bedside table in the room.

He grabbed you by your hair once more, a devious smirk on his face as he snipped your brand new bra into pieces.

He yanked you closer to him, and did the same with your panties before tossing the scissors onto the ground in the corner of the room.

Your mouth fell open in shock.

“Are you serious? That was a brand new set!” His eye twitched in frustration, Couldn’t you take the hint and just shut the hell up?

That was fine by him. He could show you what he could do to you better than he could tell you.

He kneeled onto the ground and placed his hand around the back of your neck, before yanking your head down to level with his.

“Speak one more time without being spoken to, and it’ll be your dead body that’ll be dragged out of this room next. Do I make myself clear?” You nodded hastily, although you knew his threat meant nothing.

Or at least you hoped it didn’t.

“Roll over.” He commanded. When you responded too slowly, he quite literally growled at you and forced you onto your back.

He stood up off of the ground and yanked you toward the edge of the bed by your legs.

“I’m going to use you to get myself off.” He spoke harshly, as he quickly undid his belt and pulled his leaking cock out of his boxers.

“Remember what I said? You’re expected to make that commitment.” You moaned at his words. You had gotten him angry, so you knew he about to give you one of the roughest fucks of your life.

You couldn’t wait.

“What a surprise to see that you’re already dripping for me. What a good little toy you are, huh?” Namjoon licked his index and middle fingers before bringing them down to your delicious cunt and spreading your pussy lips apart.

“Oh my God, fuck.” He moaned to himself at the sight of your pussy clenching around nothing. You were so desperate for him.

He licked his lips, ready to devour your cunt when his watched dinged on his wrist.

You whined out of frustration. Namjoon smirked as he read the alert.

“I’ve got a meeting in five minutes, babygirl. Do you know what that means?” You slowly shook your head.

“It means that you’ve got to use that cute little pussy of yours to make me cum within those five minutes. Sound good?” You whined once more, not registering the sound of his belt hitting the ground as you began to voice your annoyance.

“I-- FUCK!” You moaned, immediately gripping Namjoon’s arms for support as he slid into you with ease due to how wet you were.

“You’re always so fucking tight.” He grunted, pausing for a moment as he brought his hands up to your hips to grip them in order to stabilize himself.

“Four minutes and counting, Princess. Think you can take a rough pounding for me?” You nodded eagerly, wishing he’d shut up and get to it already.

At your agreeance, Namjoon quickly picked up the pace of his thrusts. He fell into a rapid rhythm, the sounds of his hip bones smacking against your ass only egging him on.

“God, this greedy hole is squeezing me so tight. You’re desperate to cum, aren’t you, whore?” He asked, not giving you the chance to respond as he knocked the air out of your lungs with a quick position change.

He lifted your leg over his shoulder and held it at the ankle, the new angle causing him to brush against your g-spot with every other thrust.

“Oh f-fuck, that feels so goo--” Namjoon snarled at you for speaking. He delivered a harsh slap to your right breast before wrapping his hand around your throat, and tugging you closer to him so you were forced to look into his eyes while he rearranged your guts.

“Shut the fuck up and take it, okay?” You nodded weakly, causing him to crack a smile.

“Good girl.” He praised, his eyes turning to slits as he began to pummel your pussy with his cock. He tightened his grasp around your neck to restrict your breathing, knowing that asphyxiation was the gateway to you spasming around him, which was exactly what he needed at the moment.

“You gonna cum?” He asked, nodding along with you as you struggled to form coherent words.

He laughed sadistically as a tear slipped down your cheek.

“Hold it.” Those two simple words sent you spiralling into madness. You wanted nothing more at the moment than to cum on his dick.

“I can feel you spasming around me. I’m almost there, baby. Almost there....” He cursed under his breath as the current position the two of you were in was struggling to stimulate him.

He stopped fucking you and took a look down at his watch.

“Two minutes.” He mumbled to himself, giving your body a quick once over before grabbing you around the waist with both hands and hoisting you up against the wall.

“Don’t you dare fucking cum.” He warned you, as he forced his cock back into your cunt and quickly regained his speed. He pulled your hips out a bit toward him so he could fuck you deeper.

“H-holy shit,” He barked, making eye contact with you for a moment.

“Pull my hair and spit in my mouth.”

“J-Joon--”

“Do it right fucking now.” Your hands flew to your boyfriend’s head as you submitted to his request. He always loved it when you pulled his hair when he was between your legs, but you were a bit too shy to spit in his mouth.

The two of you had never experimented with anything like that before.

You gathered up a bit of your saliva and let it trickle out of your mouth. Namjoon leaned into you and caught it quickly, sharing your saliva between the both of your mouths in a heated kiss without his hips faltering for a single moment.

“Now?” He asked, the question mumbled because of the kiss. You moaned in response, already knowing what he was referring to.

“Cum.” He ordered. You scraped your fingernails against his scalp as you begged for him to pull out, because you felt like you were going to explode.

He pulled out of you half a dozen thrusts later, using one hand to jerk himself off and the other to hold you up against the wall.

Thankfully for you, you squirted.

Much to Namjoon’s displeasure, though, you squirted all over his clothes that he was supposed to wear during his meeting.

“FUCK!” He yelled, as he began to shoot rope after rope of his cum against your face and tits.

He smiled at the thought of his cum drying on your body, because he knew you weren’t stupid enough to wipe it away.

He dropped you, your legs going numb as you hit the ground.

Namjoon forcefully spread them apart with his knee as he slid his large hand in between your thighs and rubbed at your poor clit, urging every last drop of cum out of you.

“I C-CAN’T! I CAN’T, I CAN’T!” You squirmed around in his hold.

“You don’t get to tell me what you can and can’t do.” He was about to continue, when his watched dinged once more to alert him that he had thirty seconds before his meeting began.

He rolled his eyes and roughly grabbed a fistful of your hair as he began to drag you out of the room with him.

“I-I th-thought that you didn’t like it when I listened during your meetings?” You spoke, although you allowed him to drag you back to his office.

“I don’t. You ruined my clothes though, so to pay for it you’re going to cram your little ass under that desk and suck my dick until I tell you to get the hell up.”

#blkjmn #bts smut #namjoon smut #rm smut #bts mafia smut #bts imagines #mafia smut #kim namjoon smut #bts mafia #namjoon imagine #bts scenarios #namjoon x reader

500 notes · View notes

devnicolee · 4 years

Text

Anniversary Blues

A/N: just some slight angst then fluff... idk, this is random but I decided my weekend needed some of our favorite Mountain King. Enjoy!

M’Baku x Reader

"Leave us!" you called out, authority reverberating throughout the throne room as you marched down the center aisle to your husband's throne. Like a hunter eyeing its prey, you only had eyes for the man sitting tall and proud at the front of the room as weeks of building frustration propelled you forward. You were so distracted that you did not really pay the rows of soldiers much attention. You tried to be understanding for over a month now. But this was the final straw. You finally had enough.

The chatter in the room ceased almost immediately as the men and women around you looked from you to her husband, waiting for the leader of the Jabari to speak. He simply looked at you with confusion. If you hadn't known him as intimately as you did, the flicker of annoyance and frustration that passed behind his brown eyes would have gone unnoticed. But you noticed and like gasoline to a fire, your anger exploded.

Once you reached the front of the throne room, you sighed deeply at the sustained presence of others in the room. You turned to find the group gathering their things at a painstakingly slow pace, not with the haste you required and demanded.

"Are you all suddenly hard of hearing? I said: Leave. Us. Now. Do not make me repeat myself again."

As the Queen of Jabariland, you were known for your gentleness, your compassion, and empathy. The calm to M'Baku's fire. In your two years of marriage, most had never even heard you raise your voice. This was uncharted territory and no one needed to hear or see anything else. They quickly scampered, scurrying from the room as if they were trying to escape a literal fire. You waited for the heavy wooden doors to slam shut behind the last person before you turned back to your husband.

"What is the meaning of this Y/N? I was in the middle of a meeting."

"I know. A meeting that was more important than our anniversary?"

M’Baku’s heart fell into his stomach. That was today. His eyes studied your body, taking note of the black skin-tight dress (his favorite) covering your shape, the makeup on your face and the small gift-wrapped box in your hand. He hung his head, guilt rushing through him, as he remembered the private chef and dinner you planned in the city to celebrate two years of marriage. Though he would never admit it to you, your anniversary had not even been on his radar before you reminded him of this dinner. And it didn't stay on it long because he quickly forgot to add it to his calendar.

"Y/N… I am sorry. Today has been hec-"

You raised your hand to silence him. His excuses had long grown tiresome, you were not interested in them anymore. "Is everyday not hectic for a chief? That does not excuse broken promises, M'Baku. You are a man of your word, are you not? That is certainly one of the reasons I married you... because you are trustworthy and reliable. So, you are going to need to do a whole hell of a lot better than that." You were not angry that your husband was busy, there was no leader on Earth that was not burdened with too much. And since rejoining Wakanda, your already overflowing workloads had only grown larger. But this was not an ordinary evening, he was not just missing dinner in your private quarters or movie night. It was your anniversary, your night to celebrate your love and commitment to one another, your night to make each other a priority.

"I am sorry, Y/N. I will make it up to you, I promise."

"'You'll make it up to me?' How? When? It is not like you are ever home," you retorted. Your eyes rolled up toward the ceiling as you tried to stop tears of anger from falling before you took a deep breath and continued. "We barely see each other. I fall asleep alone almost every night. I wake up alone every morning. I eat alone, I am basically alone in this marriage. When will you carve out time in your busy schedule to make it up to me? I mean... I just asked you for one night." Your voice trailed off as your anger dissipated and hurt seeped in.

"I am trying to run an entire tribe, Y/N!" M'Baku said defensively, frustration taking over as his pride could not tolerate an attack from his own wife. " I can't always be with you! And it is unfair for you to be angry at me every time I have to prioritize our people."

You almost considered just turning on your heels and walking out the door as you listened to him. You knew exactly what moment you were approaching in this argument, his voice steadily rising to the point where he simply shuts down and refuses to listen or see reason any longer. You let out a deep sigh, trying to calm yourself before attempting to explain your position again.

"I am not asking for always M’Baku! I mean Hanuman! At this point, I am not even asking for sometimes. Merely occasionally. It is not about one dinner. It is about you being emotionally and physically unavailable for over a month. I understand you are running a tribe but lately, it seems like you do not have time for me at all."

For the most part, you had enjoyed a union of marital bliss for the last two years. No real issues, no real arguments. Your marriage and the foundation of your marriage were seemingly solid and unshakable. But something shifted in the last month. Your husband stopped being your husband and he became your coworker. Your marriage stopped being a marriage. It was as if someone extinguished a fire and robbed you of all the intimacy you required to survive. If it did not pertain to a council meeting or tribal business, M'Baku carved out no time to talk to you, much less spend time with you. You had not gotten married to be lonelier than you were before.

You could justify the late nights, missed dates, lack of intimacy to a point... He gave you many excuses but you made them for him as well. You tried your best to bury your frustration and disappointment, pretending like rarely seeing your spouse did not bother you. Because you did understand he served a higher purpose, his responsibility to your people was too important. But, last week, everything changed for you. You started viewing his absence differently, examining whether he actually had time for you or the little ones he desperately wanted. How could you be a successful couple... successful parents if you existed as co-workers and not as husband and wife?

"I cannot ignore my responsibilities to be with you every second Y/N! You knew that when we got married." The bark and anger of a scorned chief now fully coloring his words.

You pinched the bridge of your nose. "I am simply asking you to remember you have a wife, other obligations outside of these four walls," she argued, gesturing around his throne room. "When was the last time you asked me how I was doing or asked me something unrelated to being chieftess?" you listed. "You claim to want a family but how? When you barely have time for me?"

"That is enough!" He yelled, his fist banging loudly on the arm of his throne as his hubris and exhaustion made him unwilling to continue listening to his wife's very valid criticisms of his behavior. "I said I was sorry Y/N! I will not apologize again. The Jabari are my obligation first and foremost. We can discuss this later in the Golden City when you have calmed down and can see reason."

You scoffed, knowing there would be no later. Tomorrow morning, you were both supposed to head down the mountains for meetings and King T'Challa's birthday party. You saw the jam-packed agenda the Queen planned for the week; there would be little time to breath, let alone have private conversations.

"No! Go by yourself!" Your mind conjuring up the only consequence you could think of.

He immediately shook his head, almost scoffing at your assertion. "Absolutely not. First, your presence is required as chieftess. And second, I am not leaving you here alone for a week."

"It would not be any different than the last month. I will not go down the mountains to smile and put on the show of the happy chieftess when I am everything but happy. You want to be alone? Fine. Enjoy doing your job alone." You turned on your heels to leave him, ignoring the rage painted on his face. However, before you took a step, you whipped back around.

"Oh, I almost forgot. Happy anniversary Lord M’Baku," you stated stiffly, voice void of the love and adoration it usually held for him. You tossed the box at him before you walked out, leaving him alone.

***

You sighed as the masseuse kneaded your tense shoulders and pounded into your back. You preferred M’Baku’s massages… his gentle touches melting away all the tension you housed in your muscles. Usually those massages turned into less medicinal activities, which made you crave them even more. You missed that, especially now, after being deprived of his soft, sensual touches for a month now. But this was a fine alternative for when your stress levels ran too high. The tranquility and meditation was short lived when the shrill sound of your beads, a recent gift from the Wakandan Princess, rang out loudly. You lifted your head to see who was calling before slumping back down angrily.

I should have known who it was.

Three days had passed since your argument in the throne room, three days since you had spoken to your husband. You ignored his 50 calls a day, they were nonstop and incessant. You knew it was not rational to be this angry over one missed dinner but you stood firm in your position. You refused to speak to him unless he was calling to apologize and promise to change his behavior. Any other conversation was useless

The ringing continued, leaving you frustrated. It was over. Whatever relaxation you hoped to get from this would not be achieved with him bothering you. You politely asked the masseuse to finish up. When she was done, you covered yourself in a thick navy blue robe before calling out to Amari, who stood on the other side of the door.

"I think I would like to go to the market to do some shopping. Can you prepare the carriage?" you asked when he poked his head into your bedroom door.

"Are you sure, my lady? There is supposed to be a storm tonight. Lord M'Baku told us to ensure you were safe while you were alone."

You cut your eyes, "My husband does not dictate my movements around my kingdom. This is as much my dominion as his. We will make it back well before the storm. So please, prepare the carriage," you responded coolly.

"Yes, ma’am," he answered, retreating to make preparations.

Less than 20 minutes later, you were off on the winding roads down the mountain for much needed retail therapy. You knew you would find no real comfort or answers in the racks of clothes but it was the only thing to keep your mind off your very real problems at home. But you figured it was a necessary trip either way, you would need new clothes in a few months anyway.

***

"Lord M’Baku, I was sad to hear Lady Y/N was not able to attend," Nakia offered as she and M'Baku shared an embrace at the entrance of the banquet hall.

"W-well yes, she was sad that she could not attend either. However, she was under the weather and we both felt travel was not in her best interest," he lied, fidgeting with the cuff links on his suit. He was not a fan of lying but admitting to his King that he upset his wife so much that she refused to come did not seem like a better option.

"Understood. We are happy one of you was able to make it and perhaps we can all get together soon for dinner. The next time you both can make it down the mountains?" T’Challa offered, as he took Nakia's hand again. M'Baku caught the subtle motion with the corner of his eye and a tinge of sadness blossomed inside as he tried to make it through the night without his partner in crime.

"Y-Yes, that is a great idea. Happy Birthday again, King T'Challa. Will you excuse me?" He saluted his king and queen before finding his seat. He was not in the entertaining mood, nor had he been in the socializing mood any moment since his arrival. He had not really realized how much he relayed on you to survive these hellish events until you weren't there. You made every meeting and event more tolerable, you knew exactly what to say or do, how to charm the right people. His fingers picked at his beads as he contemplated stepping out onto the balcony and calling you. He knew you would likely not answer, like the other 100 times that day. But he needed the silent treatment to end. He missed his wife.

It only took the length of the ride down the mountains for him to see the error of his ways. Your words echoed in his head every night and free moment since the blow up in the throne room. He wasn't listening then, but he heard the words loud and clear now. He had been absent and unavailable. He could see the path littered with broken promises and miscommunication that led you both to this exact moment. It was entirely his fault. He could always count on you, you never missed a beat, never failed to be present for him. And he was unable to be that for you. He spent most of last night brainstorming ways to make it up to you immediately and ideas to balance his schedule to make more time for you in the future.

His desperation to go back home showed through the Jabari King's sulkiness the entire evening, only engaging in conversations directed at him with short responses. His internal debate on whether to call you raged on as he listened to the leader of the mining tribe drone on and on about something uninspiring. He feigned interest in her story until his head guard raced up to him.

"We need to return to the mountains. There has been an accident!" He kept his voice low, as to not attract too much attention, but he failed to limit the frenzy, urgency and fear coloring his words.

Confusion clouded his eyes as he looked up at Dakarai, trying to understand what accident could warrant interrupting an official ball. No one paid the two Jabari any mind as they mingled and danced among themselves. "What kind of accident? Surely the warriors and Lady Y/N can handle it?"

"No! Lady Y/N was in an accident," he stressed. "In her carriage, it hit ice coming up the mountain. She is hurt, the healers are tending to her."

Dakarai was unable to conclude his thought; M'Baku was out of his seat and racing toward T'Challa the nanosecond he heard your name. He resisted the carnal instinct to strangle his guard for wasting precious time and not leading with the critical information first. He caught T'Challa's attention with ease, the King abandoning his conversation immediately at the site of M'Baku's face. M'Baku didn't take a breath as he explained the situation and excused himself from the remainder of the week.

"Take the Royal Talon. Ayo can have you there in under 20 minutes. Ayo," he motioned for the Dora soldier who arrived at his side in seconds. "We are praying for her. Update us when you can."

M'Baku nodded and shared a salute before he marched quickly behind Ayo. They were loaded in the Talon and zooming toward the snow-capped mountains of Jabariland within five minutes. He paced up and down the small ship, praying silently for her health as it zoomed toward home.

***

M'Baku ignored any and everyone he passed as he ran through the Lodge to your private quarters. He threw the heavy double doors of his bedroom to find you in bed, chatting with his private healer. The healer was replacing a bandage on your head gently when M'Baku approached him. You were listening to the healer tell a story about his daughter while patiently staring around the room. You wanted this examination to end so badly, you were exhausted and just wanted to rest.

However, your face lit up when M’Baku walked into the room. You felt bad, the clear anxiety etched in his eyes. You both connected eyes and you offered him a small smile, mainly to reassure him that you were indeed ok. You were in pain, sure, but given the state of the carriage when the guard helped you out, you were just thankful everyone walked away.

“Lord M’Baku, I am glad you were able to get here so quickly. Lady Y/N is going to be fine. No need to worry,” the doctor prefaced quickly, getting the important information out of the way. “The head wound was pretty bad, which caused a bit of panic. But otherwise, all the injuries will heal with time. And the baby is doing just fine as well, Glory to Hanuman. A strong heartbeat.” He turned to address you, “You are certainly lucky, Lady Y/N. The damage could have been significantly worse.”

M’Baku let out a deep sigh of relief, he was so elated to hear that you were indeed alright that he almost missed his last statement. “T-thank you. Th- wait. The baby?” He turned from the doctor to you, waiting for confirmation. If you weren’t so tired, you would have hit yourself in the face for forgetting to tell him not to mention the baby.

“Surprise?” you offered quietly, with a tentative smile on your face.

The healer’s eyes widened and he bowed his head, “A-ah… M-My apologies, Chief M’Baku. Lady Y/N found out last week. I assumed you knew.”

M’Baku smiled politely, mainly to assuage the man’s obvious guilt at spilling his wife’s secret. Of course now, your anger the other night made so much more sense. He, not only missed your anniversary, he ruined what would have been a life-changing surprise. “No need to apologize. S-she had not gotten the chance to tell me. B-but thank you. Could we have some alone time please?”

He bowed to both of you before quickly exiting, leaving the two of you alone.

“You are supposed to be in the Golden City,” you smiled softly, as you pushed yourself up into a seated position.

“Well, the well-being of my queen is my top priority, my only priority. When you are in trouble, I come running.” He walked up to you and pulled you into a bone-crushing hug.

You grimaced silently but held on to him as tightly as you could with one arm in a sling. While you would have loved different circumstances, you hadn’t been in his arms in so long. Your body filled with warmth like he was hot chocolate on a cold day. He shifted and pulled you so you were curled up in his lap, your face buried in the nape of his neck. You stayed like that for a few minutes before he leaned back to look at you. His finger lifted your chin as he examined the bruise growing darker on your cheekbone.

“None of it is that bad,” you promised. “It is my own fault. Amari warned me not to stay out too late, that a storm was heading through. I lost track of time because… I-I didn’t want to come back here and be alone. I missed you,” you whispered, your fingers played in his beard as you spoke. You had every intention of making him sweat originally but now that he was here? You just wanted to be close to him. “I thought we would make it back in time. Thankfully no one was seriously injured. I am sorry, it was reckless of me.”

M’Baku shook his head, “Don’t apologize to me my love, this is all my fault. You were right, I have not been the present or attentive husband you need. I get so wrapped up in the tribe and obsessing over every little detail, I lose sight of the bigger picture. I couldn’t last 2 days without you. I am in love with you and I know I can’t do this job… this life without you. You were right, my head hasn’t been here with you and certainly not enough to start our family. I am just sorry it took so long for me to see that. Can you forgive me?”

Part of you was hesitant to forgive him so quickly. After all, actions did speak louder than words and recognizing your faults did not mean his behavior was going to change. You picked at your nail beds as you responded, “I will always forgive you, my King. I-I j-j-just need to know you are there, you know? I thought about it and I shouldn’t have waited until it built up to say something. If we are upset or disappointed, we are supposed to speak up… talk. And I didn’t do that. I am sorry too.”

Silence fell over you both for a few moments before you spoke up, “This wasn’t how I wanted you to find out by the way. I had this cute onesie and everything. That was the gift I threw at you.”

M’Baku’s loud laugh rang out through the bedroom, “I don’t care how I found out. You have made me the happiest man in the world, Y/N. I swear on my life, that you and our child are my first priority, now and always.”

“I will hold you to that,” you giggled as he peppered your face with soft kisses. He picked you up and carried you to the bathroom. He sat you down and filled the oversized bathtub with your favorite bubble bath and hot water.

“How about this? After the bath, we can pick a movie to watch tonight and a few more for tomorrow?”

You paused as you tried, pathetically, to strip off your clothes with only one arm. He turned and chuckled before helping you. “What do you mean tomorrow? You still have meetings in the Golden City?”

“No I do not. T’Challa will understand. I am all yours. I told you, you are my priority.”

“I like the sound of that.” M’Baku helped you into the tub and slid in behind you. You laid against his hard chest, your eyes lulling closed as his finger traced patterns into your stomach. His lips placed soft kisses on your neck.

“I love you… more than anything,” he said quietly.

“I love you more.”

Tags: @muse-of-mbaku @jellybean531 @destinio1 @skysynclair19 @ashanti-notthesinger @gloriousgam3r @archivistofwakanda @leahnicole1219 @mygirlrenee @dramaqueeenamby

#black panther #Black Writers #black panther fanfiction #black panther imagines #m'baku x reader #m'baku imagine #m'baku x oc

145 notes · View notes