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greycloudsinwinter · 16 days

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Hi I wanted to request yandere platonic inner circle from ACOTAR x gender neutral reader who is the sister/brother of the archeron sisters who was also thrown in the cauldron and turned it fea but smiler to Nesta he/she also got powers like having the ability to rewrite reality like Wanda from Marvel and you could also make one of the inner circle a romantic yandere mate to reader maybe Azriel if you want or any other. I hope it’s not to specific loved your cassian headcanons. 🫂😍❤️

YANDERE PLATONIC INNER CIRCLE X GENDER NEUTRAL READER

YANDERE AZRIEL X READER

🌌you were the sibling of the archon sisters and it was tough to be in there shadow. Especially in making friends your power some what scared people .it didn’t help how protective your sisters were especially elain.

🌌everyone treated you with respect and kindness however you were lonely only ever having your sisters who would fight over who got to spend time with you. Even though there mates became jealous how much time they spent around you they didn’t care because you were there sibling there family.

🌌freyer usually showed you all her paintings befor anyone else and most of them had you in them.

🌌nesta preferred to gossip with you about how annoying everyone is .

🌌elain liked it when you helped her with the garden.

🌌they all had a neutral understanding that you were perfect . When they became mates they encouraged there other half’s to get to know you .

🌌rhysand was the first to come around and agree with his mate that you were the perfect little sister. In away you reminded him of his sister so he became increasingly worried about your safety. That’s why the servants spoke only few words to you.

🌌cassian was reluctant in getting to know you . He was a jealous man to say the least he worshipped the ground nesta walked on and all she did was seek your comfort. He understood that you are her younger sibling but he still hates how much time she spent with you. When he got too know you better (which took 6 months) he realised how extraordinary you were and became devoted to your safety.

🌌mor instantly became friends with you once you came to live under the mountain. She enjoyed telling you secrets of others even though she promised those people she wouldn’t tell a soul . That’s how important you are to her.

🌌azriel was heartbroken after elain found out lucien was her mate and not him. He became depressed and felt his self esteem become lesser then it already was .

🌌but then you showed up , you were shaking like a leaf when you arrived. Clearly traumatised but slowly ever so slowly you came out of your shell . Often spending your nights talking with him under the stars.

🌌when the news goes to the inner circle you and azriel are spending more and more time together. They encourage it they know they can’t keep you from falling in love with somebody so azriel is the perfect solution. He would protect you for life . They knew that. Everyone knew that.

🌌so he became obsessed and devoted completely to you .

🌌he does random acts of service . You hungry? Don’t worry azriel will get you food ! You tired ? Azriel has you in his arms flying you to you bed.

🌌if anyone and I mean ANYONE threatens you he won’t hesitate to kill them . And no one can stop him anyway . After all the inner circle came to an agreement that azriel was perfect for you .

🌌if you try to escape your being dragged back and locked in your room for weeks until you are on your knees begging to be let out for a few minutes.

🌌overall try and stay away from them ALL they believe they have the best intentions for you but in reality it’s a toxic smothering that you can’t escape .

🌌azriel is an delusional and emotionally unstable yandere

Thank you so much for this request ❤️❤️

#yandere #yandere headcanons #obsessive love #yandere x reader #obssesive #obssessed #yandere acotar #acotar x reader #inner circle #azriel #x reader #obsessive yandere #actually obsessive #obsessed

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min-youngis · 4 years

Text

endear - j.jk

banner made by me with a lot of fun, some love and an absolute lack of skill, training or prior experience can u tell idt you can tell

~ Pairing : Jeon Jungkook x Reader (ft. roommate! Yoongi)

~ Genre : Fluff, Humour Sprinkled In Like Garnish

~ Rating : G for General

~ Summary : The new hire sounds like an angel and looks like one too.

PROMPT - Person A and Person B work together in a high end hotel, Person B has a crush on Person A who happens to be the lounge singer.

~ Word Count : 1.9k

~ Warnings : swearing

~ A/N : this was written for @btswritingcafe's promptly yours workshop and it was super fun!

i'd love to hear feedback, spread the love!

masterlist in my description.

~~~

“If you’re done ogling him, maybe clear up table 13?”

You jump at Yoongi’s dry voice behind you, flustered at being caught. Again.

With a defensive and not entirely convincing ‘I wasn’t ogling,’ you scurry away to do your job, regretfully leaving behind the vantage point you’ve begun to perch yourself in increasingly often, from where you get a lovely, uninterrupted view from the restaurant into the adjoining lounge.

It’s a recent habit. You weren’t always inclined to peek through the small gap in the distant curtain from behind the wooden stand with the menus and cutlery, but the entry of a certain black-haired, doe-eyed lounge singer has changed all of that.

Ever since Yoongi (and Hobi and Joon and Tae) figured out that you keep slowing down at random places of the restaurant while carrying plates or menus, just so you can linger a little bit longer whenever you get a good view, he's stopped sending you to serve at the lounge entirely, preferring to assign you tables that are inside the main dining hall, as far away from the fluttering curtains as possible. You know it’s revenge for that one time you accidentally spilt coffee on his white hoodie that you had borrowed, but really, this seems like a bit of an exaggerated reaction. He already made you apologise while standing outside the apartment door, refusing to unlock it until you promised to do the dishes for a week.

You make sure to aim a scowl at him as you return the plates to the kitchen as you see his smug, knowing grin. Because despite the fact the he, and everybody else, is perfectly aware about your...er, fascination with the new hire, you’ve always only ever replied to their taunts and teasing with, “No, I don’t,” and, “You’re being delusional,” and the ever so common, “I’m not staring.”

You’ve got a big, fat crush on Jeon Jungkook, but you’ll die before you say that out loud.

And Yoongi takes every chance he gets to rub it in.

“Want to swap with Joon, Y/N? Spend some time manning the lounge so you can breathe the same air as the new kid?”

“We're all already breathing the same air, stupid,” you mutter as you collect cutlery to lay table 13 again, trying hard not to look up at the curtains that you know will give you that glorious glimpse and to not let the excitement at the prospect of being in the lounge for a while show in your voice.

“So you don’t want to go to the lounge,” Yoongi hums thoughtfully, handing you the napkins.

Passing by with a tray full of empty plates, Tae says with a scoff, “Of course she wants to go to the lounge. That’s where the love of her life is.”

“Fuck off, Tae,” you bite out before stalking out onto the floor so you can arrange the table for the next diner.

When you’re back, Yoongi continues, now all business, “I’m serious, though. You have the lounge for the next two hours, until we close up.”

As haughtily as you can, masking the shy excitement you feel at the prospect, you primly nod before making your way to the curtains, steps measured. You ignore Namjoon's wink as you cross paths, pushing the fabric back and stepping into the lounge.

The air here is always rarefied. Instead of scattered wooden tables and chairs, there are plush couches and low-rise platforms in front of them, all slightly inclined towards the small stage at one end of the room. A stage that you’re now looking at, flapping curtain directly behind you.

You stand in position, finally seeing more than half his face or a single arm, finally hearing him sing the way he deserves to be heard for the first time this night. His sweet voice had drawn him to you in the first place. The way he looked had been a bonus.

Not that you’ve ever told him that. Or spoken a word to him other than harried greetings in the evenings when you accidentally (or not-so-accidentally) run into him, and awkward small talk.

He’s singing one of his signatures now, one of those melodious ballads that make you think of comfortably warm nights with fireflies lighting up an unforgiving darkness, and unnecessarily making you want to spend those with him. He doesn’t see you, gaze fluttering around the room as he sings with a voice like honey, making eye contact with appreciative patrons. He was a good hire.

You’re drawn out of your staring by Jimin behind the bar on your right calling out, “Y/N, I hate to interrupt your little love fest, but this goes to table 4.”

Blushing furiously, you rush to the counter and take the tray in your arms, dropping a quick apology before carrying the drinks to the table.

You have to rely on your listening skills for any semblance of contact with Jungkook for the next two hours. The floor is busy and you’ve been caught too many times today to stop and stare again. Except for one memorable incident where he breaks his sultry, smooth character for a split second when your eyes meet and he gives you a flash of a wide grin that sends you nearly tripping on air with a tray full of empty glasses balanced in your hand, you stay resolutely away.

Until you can’t.

You’re wiping down your last table as Hobi, Tae and Joon say their farewells, Yoongi closing up shop at the back when you hear the clearing of a throat behind your hunched over frame.

You think it’s your roommate come to tell you to hurry up, that the later it gets, the more likely you are to run into the couple that lives next door that always comes home drunk at times like these. Not that you have anything against that, it just gets a little inconvenient when they decide to very aggressively make out in the snail paced lift that the four of you end up having to share.

But it’s been a long day, and you’re just a little (read: quite) peeved at being teased so much, and you don’t bother turning around, only deigning to respond with a curt ‘I’m almost done.’

You get silence in reply, but the shadow in front of you makes it clear that he hasn’t moved. Annoyed at the mind games he seems to be playing, you give the table one last run-down before turning around swiftly with a huff while saying, “Listen, so what if I like Jungkook, can you just let it g – Oh, shit.”

The visibly nervous man in front of you, one palm behind his neck as the other hand hangs suspended aimlessly in the air, as if he were about to tap you on the shoulder, is decidedly not your little shit roommate.

Jungkook's arm comes down limp, and your eyes are drawn to his fingers that slightly flex. You’re not sure what to categorise what you’re feeling as exactly.

Embarrassment? Shyness? A little short of breath at being this up close? Irrational annoyance at Yoongi?

All you know for certain is that for somebody who’s spent a majority of her free time in the last two weeks thinking about Jungkook’s eyes, you’re having a mighty hard time meeting them just now.

“Uh, hey!” you start, falsely cheery, hoping that for your sake, he may gloss over the fact that you basically just admitted to your disgusting affliction towards him. The rag in your hand has likely never been through a wash cycle as intense as the nervous wringing you’re giving it right now.

He’s a nice guy, yeah? He won’t make things awkward.

“You...you like me?”

Your eyes snap up from the hard gaze you had at the bottle of Grey Goose behind the bar, beyond Jungkook’s shoulder. His face is closed, sort of masked, and you can’t fathom how uncomfortable you’ve probably just made him.

Your mouth is running before you can even begin to decide what to reply with. With a short giggle that’s unconvincing even to you, you respond, “That was- uh, a joke. Yeah, it was a running thing that Yoongi and I have. You don’t have to worry, I was just kidding, I promise.”

You wish there was a wall nearby you could hit your head on. Even the table behind you would do. Or Jungkook’s chest. You aren’t blind or immune to the way the restaurant mandated starchy white shirt under the black tuxedo stretches across his frame. You have, after all, been looking respectfully.

“I’m not worried.”

Once again, you’re pulled from your purely angelic thoughts with a start. His expression has a sort of restrained glee to it, his eyes glittering with reeled in hope.

“Huh?”

And now, suddenly, he’s shy again, not meeting your confused gaze. With a start, you realise that your mouth is agape and clamp it shut, heartbeat pounding in your ears.

“I’m not worried, that'd be kind of perfect. Fits right in with my plans, actually. I keep thinking I’ll ask you out but I keep chickening out, and then today afternoon Tae told me you had a thing for me but I thought he was just pulling my leg, because you always seem so focused at work and you stopped coming out to this part of the restaurant often, and I really didn’t think you thought of me in the same way-“

“Yes.”

He stops partway through his confused, meandering, undeniably cute ramble, his mouth still open mid-word at your shy but firm interruption. Your grin's been growing little by little as he’s been talking, and you’re fighting hard to not show teeth.

Really, best to put the boy out of his misery. And yours.

“Yes?” he asks, head cocked to the side in adorable confusion.

“Yes,” you reply decisively, nodding your head in determination, voice stronger this time, grin settling into something softer, shyer as you take in his mirrored smile and the clearing of doubt in his eyes.

His grin grows, and foolishly, ridiculously, the only thing you can think of at this specific moment is the You so fuckin' precious when you smile meme.

You’re about to say something, anything, but your mouth hasn’t been the most cooperative lately, so maybe it’s for the best that Yoongi ducks into the lounge from behind the partition curtain then, effectively making you and Jungkook break the shaky, nervous, rose tinted eye contact.

He pauses at the threshold, taking in the muted excitement in both of your eyes and the fidgeting of your fingers around the cloth that you’re still holding.

And then, with his customary drawl, “Ready to go, Y/N?”

His words indicate calmness, boredom. But you know him well enough to realise that he’s already caught on that something’s happened and he’s just a sucker for gossip.

Nodding jerkily, you look back up at Jungkook.

“Uh, see you around?” he says, and you can see embarrassment, annoyance and rueful settlement in his eyes in quick succession when he finishes his sentence.

Giggling, you reply, “Absolutely.”

With one last wave, he grabs his bag from a nearby table and walks out the door, steps too measured to be casual and shoulders stiff in an attempt to look cool.

From your left, Yoongi's voice makes you dart back to the active realisation that he’s still here.

“Careful, you look at him any fonder and you’ll be crying tears of honey.”

“Careful, you tease me anymore and you’re getting no information.”

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donnnoir · 5 years

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Tears before their time...

(originally posted from Austin, Texas on June 16, 2019; I have edited the original to make it more readable and relevant. The original showed obvious signs of the stress I was under at the time. Causing me to appear “mad” shall we say. Rather than completely re-write the piece I elected to do some deep revision and editing. I note this as an attempt at maintaining continuity and context; should anyone have read my previous posting. G-dspeed to thee and all of us…)

Bit by bit, I will find the means to accomplish this damnable project, my blog. Though in all Honesty, I fear it is too little too late. I should have been disseminating much of this information twenty plus years ago, to as wide a segment of the population as possible. Nonetheless by the smallest of degrees the Good Lord will yet work a miracle. But for ten righteous souls the cities of Sodom and Gomorrah would have been spared their fate. Knowing what is to come, the pain, loss, horrors and catastrophes; over the years I have spent many nights when alone shedding tears for those I must leave behind and those whose suffering I must witness. In the future I will not have the luxury of mourning the dead. The Living will require every ounce of my energy and focus. Their minds and souls will be stripped bare, constantly in a state of disbelief and overwhelmed by shock. Left to their own, most would be in a perpetual state of shock losing all focus eventually laying down to die. To overcome this; their minds must hear a booming series of commands, giving them purpose, focus and a direction to move. Initially their movements will be slow and jerky constantly trying to remember what they are suppose to be doing. This is because each of us is a composite being; constructed of a spirit, body and mind. This composite as a whole constitutes a “soul”! Each of the three elements is interdependent upon each other. Our “minds” are both the most powerful and most fragile of the three. As a consequence, when the mind becomes overloaded by any situation or circumstance, from sleep deprivation, hunger, exigent emotions and or trauma. The quickest and at times best way to get it back to functioning properly or “rebooting” is to have one of the other two elements of our “soul” demand over-riding access to our mental operations. For “us” fellow humans, this is usually best accomplished via requiring the overwhelmed individual to do some physical operation/action that is rote to them. As the body’s somatic memory kicks in, it increasingly requires over-riding control of the mind thereby pushing it to function “normally”. The military conditions a similar response into recruits. Under stress the recruits learn to perform certain actions that their Drill Instructors bark at them. The reasons are so that when the recruits get trapped or logger headed under fire and their minds are overwhelmed, a voice booms familiar commands. Their bodies know the prescribed action and they do it despite the sensation they are going to be killed doing so. Yes some are, but if they remain non-responsive they will all be killed in short order. Thus for my part, I must always be certain and unaffected by the horrors of the deaths of family and friends. When the living look into my eyes all that they must see is my certainty and resolve. With the ultimate knowledge that should they waste my time and what resources the group may possess, I will callously leave them behind with less effort than I spent sending my friends or family to die, even leaving their bodies where they lay. I must appear as heartless and cruel as the enemies we will be fighting. It is a war that we, mankind must win! Knowing this; having already seen and felt the loss I, we must endure. My only recourse on nights as circumstance occasioned I should be alone was to feel and live through the loss, even for those yet unborn that will die before their time. I swore I would never waste nor thoughtlessly shed their precious blood; instead like a miser hoarding his wealth, every iota spent must bring the most benefit to everyone, and our cause. Always knowing that in due course even my blood will be required. Sadly the most damaging engagements, actions and effects will come form our own, our fellow human beings. Those that have over the years facilitated the agendas of their demonic overlords, that they now prefer to call aliens. These True Believers think in part or en mass they will escape because of the benefits afforded them by the technologies they have acquired. That these will grant unto them the necessary advantages to go out into the Cosmos, our Multi-verse to be their own gods. Via alteration of their genome they believe they will become something superior to being Human. This philosophy is currently known as Trans-Humanism; it was popularly known as Eugenics during WWII. A common and well known goal of the Nazi’s and their Human Experimentation in their death camps. After a couple of face-lifts and attachment of a more scientific and progressive sounding name we the fourth reich have Trans-Humanism. Because make no excuses we have wrought a fourth reich. This courtesy in part by operation paperclip and a delusionally paranoid “military industrial complex”. It is worse than anything mankind has presumed in epochs past.

In the here and now, I continue to be targeted by soft kill technologies that are deployed throughout the country under the guise of crowd control. This is in conjunction to my being FOXed by elements of the Shadow Government. This protocol includes the placing of various chemical compounds, some radioactive and poisonous substances into what I ingest, the clothes I wear and at times even aerosol applications. Several times they gassed me with some kind of an anesthetic, presumably to dull my senses making me more compliant and or suggestible. All required varying degrees of mental acuity and other energies to remain rationale and cognitive of my surroundings. Only by the Grace of the Divine am I still alive. I am exhausted, but I will not lose nor capitulate. Yeeppie all kinds of fun

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iamkatehardy · 6 years

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Partners in Crime (Kray Twins x Reader)

Request by the sweet @kind-wolf 🖤

Warnings: violence, swearing

Author’s Notes: I’m really sorry I wrote this in such a rush, but it has been hard for me to write long chapters and to write frequently. I hope you like it anyway 🙏 I’m sorry if this has some kind of error, but I wrote this at 2 a.m. in my phone, so something might have slipped...

Leave your feedback and/or requests ❤️

Partners in Crime

You had been dating Reggie for some long months now, the happiest of your life; you knew what his life was like, he made sure he was completely honest with you once things between you both got serious, because he knew he could trust you with his deepest secrets. Reggie wanted you to know what kind of life he had in the shadows, so that you’d be aware of all the dangers you could be facing now that you were with him.

His gangster life wasn’t easy to deal with, but the biggest challenge in your relationship was definitely his brother. Ronald had always been suspicious of females, especially the ones with relevance on his brother’s life, and you were no exception. He kept filling Reggie’s head with his theories about you, about how evil and a gold digger you were. Reggie never believed in his absurd stories, but that didn’t stop him from trying, he kept making up worse theories instead , such as you being a spy for a rival gang. You never knew for sure what he told Reggie, but you knew he despised you, no matter how hard you tried to get along with him. Your efforts seemed worthless for Ron, so you started avoiding him instead.

Reggie tried to make Ron believe you weren’t the woman he thought you were, that you were the one for him, but he wasn’t convinced. He tried to make you believe things would be better as well, once Ron got to know you better, but seeing how hostile he was with you , you just couldn’t believe it.

With each of Ron’s thoughtless and careless actions, Krays’ lives became increasingly harder. Having cops after them was something they were used to, but the other gangsters weren’t nearly as calm or stupid as cops. They were thirsty for blood and had a ruthless sense of justice. Recently they broke in the club, catching Reggie off guard, stabbing him multiple times when leaving only when he seemed to be dead. But your man was stronger than they thought, he survived and was now at home, recovering from the incident, stepping away from London’s underworld for a while.

You always tricked your parents, saying you were going to your best friend’s house, but you went to Reggie’s instead, to check on him and taking até of that stubborn man. Keeping Reggie resting was almost as hard as pleasing Ron, if not harder, but most of times your pants and kisses did the job.

“Don’t worry love, I’m ready for another!” - He smiled and played with your hair, while you were laying by his side, head in his chest. When you heard his words, you lift your head, facing him and scowling at him.

“Don’t say that, not even joking, Reginald Kray! I’d hit you right now, if you weren’t in recovery!” - You then laid your head back in his chest.

“Well, about that, I think I already...”

“Hmmm hmmm” - You interrupted him, shaking your head in disapproval.

“ You didn’t even hear me, woman!” - He kisses your forehead.

“Yet, I am sure I know you well enough to know that I won’t like what you were going to say. Don’t even start thinking of leaving the bed, Reg.”

“Not while you’re in here, hell no..” - He tightened his arms around you.

“Neither when I’m not, Reggie... You heard the doctor, the wounds are still pretty ugly, you need some more time to recover, baby.” - You buried your face in his neck, planting a gentle kiss there.

“You know I have urgent businesses to handle, love.” - He looked down at you.

“No fucking business is more important than your life, period.”

“Oh, you women are so protective, and that’s so lovely.”

“Yes we are, but only of those who we love more than ourselves, Reg.” - You sentence was followed by a painful silence, and you sighed. - “ I know you’re a part of that world, and I know that world is a part of you, there’s no use in trying to change that, and I won’t... But I need you to be safe, to take care. I can’t afford to lose you.”

“There’s only this meeting...”

You got up from his chest, sitting on the bed, your back turned to him, drying your eyes.

“Do you ever listen to me?” - You shook your head, your voice cracking.

“ I can’t let Ron go alone, you know his temper, I can’t trust him with peace negotiations, that would go terribly wrong.”

You rolled your eyes and got up, hurt he didn’t even try to understand your point, and your motives. Reggie winced, sitting in the bed and reaching for your arm.

“(Y/N), babe...”

“ Don’t fucking babe me, Reginald, I’m going home.”

“ Listen , love, I’m out of options here.”

“ I can be an option Reggie.” - You turned to face him.

“I understand, and you’ll always be my priority, but...”

“No, I don’t think you’re understanding.” - You sighed. - “I’ll go with Ron.”

“What?! No. No, no,no.” - He put his hand on his head, as if you said something crazy.

“ Don’t you trust me?”

“ I do (Y/N), with my life, but that’s too dangerous.”

“More dangerous than a paranoid schizophrenic guy, with no medication? No. I’ll have Ron with me, that’ll be alright.”

“That doesn’t put me at ease, things between you and Ron aren’t easy at all.”

“Trust me, I can handle it. There’s nothing in this world I wouldn’t do for you...” - Your eyes met his and he sighed heavily.

“ Even if I agreed this insane idea, which I haven’t yet, Ron absolutely wouldn’t.”

“Well, don’t ask Reginald, just inform him . He respects and trusts you, he’ll end up accepting it.”

“I’ll think about that, ok? Now come here , my main concern now is to enjoy every moment with you, not discussing this kind of things, alright?”

“Fine, but just know that I won’t give up. “ - You laid by his side, reaching for his lips and kissing him urgently, trying to show how deeply your loved him.

Reggie knew you wouldn’t give up, and you knew a lot about his businesses, so maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea after all. Convincing Ron was the biggest challenge, once again , they discussed it for days , but Reggie ended up successfully talking Ron into it, due his endless persistence. Ron made it clear he wouldn’t stop anyone from killing you, to which Reggie replied that you were a part of him, and how devastated he’d be if anything ever happened to you. Ron didn’t quite understand Reggie’s feelings for you, but he agreed to work with you as if you both were in Reggie’s presence, but in this single mission only, he said.

In the following days your boyfriend got you a gun and taught you how to use it, in case you needed it. You were a fast learner, plus you wanted to show him you could do it, so in no time you were handling a gun as if you had done it for years.

When the day of the meeting came, Reggie begged you to be careful. It felt as if your roles had been reversed, usually it was the other way around : you begging him to take care and come home safe, so that you could spend the rest of your days with him. You warmly kissed him goodbye, and then left his home, getting in the car where Ron was impatiently waiting, smoking his cigar. The ride was long and painfully silent.

When you arrived the place of the meeting, you turned to Ron, who looked back at you in disgust.

“Frank , could you please leave me and Mr. Kray alone for a minute?” - You asked politely, giving the driver a smile. He obeyed, disappearing from your sight. - “Alright Ron...”

He just grunted, staring at you in confusion.

“ I know you hate me, though I don’t know exactly why... And I also know you’ve been sparing no effort to make Reggie get me out of his life. Just know that I won’t let it happen,not so easily.” - You narrowed your eyes. - “ I tried, and will keep trying, to keep things civilised between us, not for you, not for me, but for your brother, who I love so damn much. I won’t be leaving, Ronald. I love Reggie, and you are his brother, so I know in your way you love him too. I would never want to bring you both apart, please understand that. I just want peace, that’s all.”

“We won’t ever be friends, (Y/N).”

“We don’t need to be, even if it was better for us to try.”

“ You should fear what may happen to you.” - He interrupted you.

“ Well, Ron, dear, let me give you the news : I don’t fear whatever may happen to me, neither I fear you, or anyone, just for the record. I’ll do whatever it fucking takes to be with your brother, who happens to be the love of my life, regardless of what you, my parents, the pope, or anyone thinks/wants. So just fucking deal with it.” - You pointed your finger at his chest and then got out of the car. - “Now let’s finish this. And try not to go psycho in the middle of the damn meeting Ron, or I swear to God I’ll shoot you, and believe it or not, I already have more than motives to.”

He followed you in silence, processing whatever the hell just happened, and everything you said.

Arriving the room you were both invited to seat by a broad man, whose black eyes showed no sign of him having a soul within him.

He first talked about how stupid and naïve it was for the Krays to believe they’d have peace after some incidents they caused, then he just kept roasting them, getting worse word after word, spitting venom every time. At this point your blood was boiling already, your expression visibly hardening. The men kept talking about how unstable, lunatic and a freak of nature Ron was, and that he should’ve never make it out of his mother’s womb, he then started insulting Reggie, calling him a delusional pussy who sent his bitch to deal with his problems. And he kept on, he kept on for some good minutes, enjoying insulting them and insulting you. The men then turned around, pouring himself a drink.

In that moment you took the gun Reggie gave you, while Ron was distracted trying to keep it together. You got up, approaching the man.

“Just one more thing...” - The man turned and you aimed at his chest, he laughed in in your face. The anger and rage took over you and you pulled the trigger, not once, not twice, but as many times as the bullets you had, even after he was lifeless on the floor.

“Have you lost your mind?” - Ron shouted at you, getting the gun out of your hand . - “ What about the...” - He made an high pitch voice, mimicking you .- “Try not to go Psycho, Ron, or I’ll fucking shoot you!” - He then mimicked Reggie.- “ Oh Ron, she’ll go with you so that someone keeps your cool when you get mad!” - He went back to his normal voice.- “ All this and YOU fucking shot the guy and start a gang war?!”

“Ron, you heard him, we wouldn’t have peace anyway. And I wouldn’t let him talk shit about Reggie and you , and despise your honor and name like that! That’s now how I work Ron, loyalty and protecting the ones I love are everything for me. He would insult someone I care for , just like that, and get away with it!”

Ron took of his glasses, scratching his eyes, weighting what you had just said. You talked like family would, and that confused the shit out of him. He wanted do hate you, but you did and said things he valued a lot. He put his glasses back on, sighing and willing to thank you for your loyalty, offering you his own.

“What are you doing?” - You asked, as he removed the bullets from the chamber of his gun, putting them on your and giving it back to you.

“ No one will know you did it, and if anyone asks, I did it, not you.” - He removed his jacket, placing it over the body. - “Your jacket, scarf and whatever clothes you don’t need, please. We can’t leave him here.”

“What?! No! I stand for what I’ve done!” - You have him some of your clothes.

“Listen (Y/N), I don’t doubt you do, but I think you’re no idea what consequences these acts bring. I’m ready for them, and you’re not.” - He wrapped the body in the clothes.

You didn’t know exactly what to say, as you didn’t expect him to behave like that.

“No, that’s wrong! I can’t let you pay for my actions.”

He got up, getting closed and putting his hair back in place.

“That’s What family does (Y/N), we have each other’s backs, no matter what, and sooner or latter that’s what we’ll be. Family.”

“ Oh Ron...” - You closed your eyes and then hug him right, and for a second he replied, even if he hated displays of affection.

He slapped your shoulder lightly.

“Now come on, we’ve got a body to get a rid of, partner!”

“But Ron?”

He was now back to the task of dragging the body.

“Hmm?”

“ I’ll have to be honest with Reggie, I won’t lie to the man I love.”

“Be honest then, but I’m sure as Hell that he’ll agree with the plan of protecting you, it’s the best for everyone.”

You helped him dragging the body.

“ And Ron... Thank you, for trying to protect me, and for all the stupid things you sometimes do, that I know that you do to protect Reggie as well. It means a lot.”

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toseehowthestoryends · 7 years

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A Different Battle - Chapter 12

The one where Rumplestiltskin's mother shows up at the Dark Castle shortly after Cora breaks his heart, changing the course of future events forever. Years later, when Belle makes a deal to become the Dark One’s maid, she never expected to find his mother living with him.

Or, the one in which Rumbelle truly are Beauty and the Beast. But they need a little push.

Winner of Best OC for Morgan le Fae in the 2017 TEAs.

Read it on AO3 | FFN

Chapter 12—“If You Love Her…”

Zelena was finally gone, and Rumplestiltskin could not have been happier. His protégé was an excellent sorceress and a fine student, but she really did grate on his nerves. Despite Morgan having flat out told Zelena about his relationship with her mother, Zelena continued to drop hints that he’d be welcome in her bed, a thought that Rumplestiltskin found downright repulsive. Yes, she was Cora’s firstborn—a child whom Cora had almost signed over to him, all the while lying and implying she not already mothered a child—but all that did was make her useful. The thought of bedding her turned his stomach. She was both too much like her mother and not enough like Cora; Zelena shared Cora’s ambitious dark streak, but she had none of Cora’s patient calculation. She was petulant where Cora had been regal, impatient where Cora had been strong. Zelena was a nuisance, but a dangerous one. And now she was sniffing around Belle.

Belle.

The thought of her name left him feeling warm in ways Rumplestiltskin could not remember ever having felt, and despite the never-ending chorus of voices in his head objecting to the beautiful brunette, he had no regrets. He was starting to believe that she genuinely cared about him—him!—and somehow, her touch made the voices silent. He had not thought anything could do that, not since Bae, and Rumplestiltskin found himself feeling actual hope for the first time in centuries.

She had laughed with him. And at him, but that was all right. He didn’t mind if Belle laughed at him, although Rumplestiltskin wasn’t quite sure when that had happened. She was pure light, his Belle, and she had reminded him that living in the shadows was no life at all. Just thinking of her made his heart beat faster. He wasn’t ready to say that, of course, and maybe he would never be, but he could still subtly let her know how much she meant to him. She would never love him, of course, not the way he knew he was rapidly falling for her, but having Belle’s friendship was no small matter.

Rumplestiltskin would have to be content with that. He wanted more, of course, because he had always been a selfish coward, but he knew that a beautiful young maiden befriending the beast was already asking too much. Yet that thought didn’t stop him from making a detour to the garden before he went back to the great hall. He almost chickened out, but remembering Belle’s words helped:

Do the brave thing, and bravery will follow. He could be like his maid, couldn’t he? She’d stepped into the unknown, sacrificing herself to save her people. Surely he could dare to demonstrate his feelings, even a little. So, Rumplestiltskin steeled himself and stepped outside, staring at the flowers he’d so often complained about. Spying out the best red rose, he quickly snipped it off the vine and headed back inside to find Belle.

When she wasn’t in the great hall, he thought nothing of it. Belle was hardly a sedentary woman, and he could easily cast a spell to find her.

Morgan hadn’t expected to hear crying coming from the library. Oh, Zelena visiting always caused some sort of chaos, mostly because the twit was as annoying as a case of the boils, but crying? Belle was hardly the crying sort; the girl hadn’t shed a tear after those first few nights. Belle was strong, far stronger than a young noblewoman with her background had any right to be, and she was hardly the sort to hole herself up in the library and sob. Not at all.

True to form, Belle’s head snapped up when Morgan stepped in, and she immediately wiped the tears away with angry motions. “I’m fine.”

“I hadn’t asked, dear.” Morgan let her eyebrows rise but kept her voice as gentle as she could. She still couldn’t stop herself from sighing, though. “What did the fool boy do this time?”

It had to be Rumplestiltskin, after all. Zelena was in the castle, but Morgan couldn’t imagine Belle crying like this over something the Wicked Queen had said or done. Belle was more resilient than that, and Zelena just wasn’t clever enough to make Belle feel so terrible. That left Rumplestiltskin, who was as mercurial as he was hot-tempered. He was also terrified of letting people in, particularly after what had happened with Cora, so Morgan could see him having said something to drive Belle away.

I should have talked to him with more than just sly insinuations, she thought angrily. Feeling uncharacteristically optimistic, Morgan had thought she could let Belle and Rumplestiltskin’s budding relationship take its course. However, it appeared that her son was not the only fool in the castle.

“Nothing.” Belle could look every bit as mulish as Rumplestiltskin could, it turned out, and for a moment, Morgan was reminded of Mordred’s youthful pouts.

“Oh, don’t give me ‘nothing’, girl. I know what kind of idiot my son can be. What did he say to you?”

“He didn’t say anything to me.” Belle muttered the words rebelliously, but her eyes were still full of pain. “He can’t be bothered to tell the truth to me.”

Morgan fought back the urge to groan. “And what truth would that be?”

“That I’m hoping for something foolish. You’re hoping for something foolish,” Belle snapped, rising and facing Morgan with more fury than Morgan would have thought the girl capable of. “He can’t love! He doesn’t feel anything for anyone! He said as much himself! He said I was nothing to him!”

Belle looked ready to throw down the book she’d held in her hands, but instead she put it down on the table. Firmly. And then she turned to glare at Morgan once more while the older woman struggled to find words.

“I am not some weak little girl who is going to be a plaything in whatever game you’re playing with your son. I promised forever, and I will not break my word, but that doesn’t mean I’m here to be toyed with. I am not nothing!”

Morgan gaped, her heart sinking rapidly. How could she salvage this? Belle assumed that she and Rumplestiltskin had been toying with her emotions on purpose, and that was the exact opposite of the response that Morgan had hoped for. Everything she had hoped for, dreamed for, was unravelling right in front of her. “I assure you that no one has—”

“Then you’re even more delusional than I am,” Belle cut her off coldly. “Your son is the Dark One. Clearly that means he feels nothing for no one. He said it himself, and neither of us should be surprised by that. Nor should we be surprised that he happily socializes with Queen Zelena, and everyone knows what she is.”

Spinning, Belle headed for the door before Morgan could formulate an answer, but then they both froze. Rumplestiltskin was standing in the doorway, his eyes wide and broken. Every line of his body radiated horrified heartbreak, and Morgan didn’t need to ask how much he had heard of Belle’s tirade. Clearly, he had heard enough.

Belle swallowed noisily. “Rumplestiltskin—”

“Oh, don’t let me stop you from being about your duties, dearie,” he snapped coldly. Morgan opened her mouth to say something—she didn’t know what—but Rumplestiltskin instead offered Belle a deeply mocking bow before disappearing in a cloud of dark purple smoke.

The rose he had held in his hands floated to the floor slowly, as if mocking the very possibility of love. Both women stared at it for a long moment in shocked silence.

“Now look at what state he’s in,” Morgan grumbled at Belle before she could stop herself. The girl had every right to be wary, of course—every other Dark One would gleefully have played with her thus—but it was Morgan who would have to repair this damage. She almost said more, but Belle turned to her with wide eyes.

“What have I done?” Belle whispered, and the anger flooded out of Morgan.

She sighed. “What exactly did you hear?”

“He was talking to Zelena.” Wide blue eyes turned on Morgan as Belle’s voice shook. “He said that he was the Dark One, and he couldn’t feel anything like that for anyone.”

“He said that to Zelena.” Morgan tried not to stress the queen’s name, but it was hard. Why did ordinarily smart people have to be so thick when their emotions were involved? Morgan had been the same in her youth, but she’d hoped that Belle was smarter than she’d been. “Not to you?”

“No, we were talking about families and why I came here.” Belle swallowed. “It was…nice. He wasn’t like he was with Zelena. And he’d be honest with her, wouldn’t he? She’s like him.”

A supremely un-ladylike snort escaped Morgan. “I have a hard time imagining anyone less like my son than Zelena. Yes, they have both embraced darkness to a degree. But that is where the similarities end, unless you would term Rumplestiltskin vain, increasingly homicidal, and relentlessly self-centered.”

“Only sometimes.” Belle looked away, and Morgan just waited, watching silently as Belle walked over to pick up the discarded rose. “This…this was for me, wasn’t it?” Belle whispered. “I’ve messed everything up again.”

“No, you haven’t.” Smiling sadly, Morgan stepped forward. “If there’s anyone who understands making mistakes, it is my son. Go talk to him, and everything will be all right.”

She should not have made such a promise, of course, but Morgan saw the rose as such a good sign that she forgot how badly Rumplestiltskin had been wounded in the past.

Do the brave thing, Belle told herself, squaring her shoulders and marching towards the great hall, still holding the rose Rumplestiltskin had dropped. This was the second time she’d seriously misunderstood Rumplestiltskin, and she hated herself for it. Yet, intellectually, she knew that she was hardly the only one at fault. Rumplestiltskin didn’t like to share things; even in their pleasant conversation that morning, he’d changed the subject when she’d asked something too personal. How could she get to know him if he never let her in? Sometimes, Rumplestiltskin would reach out, so tentatively, like he wanted to let Belle into his heart, but he would always skitter back. What was he afraid of? What could the most powerful sorcerer in the Enchanted Forest possibly have to fear from her?

Belle was afraid, too. She didn’t like admitting that, but she felt like she was standing on the edge of a cliff, unable to see if there was a bridge or not. One wrong step and she could fall, but what happened if she did? Can you love him? The very idea was terrifying, particularly with that deep darkness that she knew had taken root inside Rumplestiltskin. Yet Belle could feel her heart racing in anticipation. Was that love? She didn’t know. All she knew was that she would never forgive herself if she left things between them like this, all because of a stupid misunderstanding.

But when she got close to the great hall, the sound of glass breaking reached her ears. Something crashed, and Belle thought she heard wood splinter. Hearing that made her hesitate, but Belle took a deep breath and forced herself to push the doors open and step inside.

When she did, she found Rumplestiltskin surrounded by broken glass, upended treasures, and most of a now-decapitated cabinet. Belle froze, but Rumplestiltskin still wheeled to face her, his reptilian eyes wide and furious.

“What now, dearie? Haven’t you said enough already, or do you come to mock me further?” His words were accompanied by a twirling of his right hand, but now his movements weren’t flippant of playful; they were dangerous. “If you have, feel free to hold your tongue, or I shall.”

Rumplestiltskin snapped his fingers in a motion that she remembered all too well from when he’d taken the Sheriff of Nottingham’s tongue straight out, and for a moment, all Belle could do was stare, her mouth agape with shock.

“No?” Rumplestiltskin snorted. “In that case, do clean up the mess.”

He started to walk away, but Belle’s words stopped him cold. “Did you mean it?” She had to know, had to hear it from him and not just his mother. “Did you mean what you said to Zelena?”

“I say many things, My Lady.” Contempt dripped from every word as Rumplestiltskin turned to face her, and his smile turned scornful. “You’ll have to be more specific.”

“You told her you couldn’t feel anything for anyone.” Belle struggled to keep her voice steady, but it was so hard. And her words turned so small when she added: “You told her I was nothing.”

He wiggled, but Belle could see that the sarcastic jiggle was a front. A show. “Eavesdroppers tend to hear what they most deserve to hear, you know.”

“Was it true?” It took all of her self-control to ask the question without screaming at him, because the wounded look underneath Rumplestiltskin’s bristly exterior was telling her the exact opposite of what his words said, and Belle was so confused. She wanted to shake him, but if he’d broken everything in here, might he break her, too? Maybe she was too angry to care.

“I’m the Dark One, dear.” A giggle. “Did you expect something else? And here I thought you were supposed to be the smart one. I suppose that isn’t true.”

“Stop it! Stop hiding behind that mask and tell me the truth!” Belle marched up to Rumplestiltskin, glaring at him as he snarled wordlessly. “You’re two different people: one with her and one with me. Which one is real?”

This giggle was so high-pitched that it had to be hiding something. “If you have to ask the question—”

Reaching out, Belle quickly grabbed him by the arms. Not too hard, but hard enough to get his attention, to stop Rumplestiltskin’s stupid little imp voice and make him pay attention. Really, her hands ended up resting on arms of the silk shirt he was wearing, pressing enough to make him look at her with suddenly owlish eyes. For the first time, Belle felt like he was actually focused on her, listening to her instead of the darkness in his mind. She’d meant to pull away after she got his attention, but somehow, Belle found herself standing there with her hands grasping his upper arms.

“What—what are you…doing?” Rumplestiltskin’s voice was a startled whisper, nothing like the fiery mockery of only moments earlier.

“Talking to Rumplestiltskin, not the Dark One.” Belle didn’t know why touching him seemed to help, but she’d noticed that, lately, and she wasn’t above taking advantage of it. Not if it made him listen.

He swallowed so loudly that Belle thought she could hear his tongue working. “I—I am both,” Rumplestiltskin said after a long moment. “There’s not one without the other.”

“But the man you are, the man under the darkness…he can feel, can’t he?” Belle asked the question hesitantly; she didn’t think he was lying, now, or avoiding her questions, but he wasn’t exactly being helpful.

“Why would that matter?” Rumplestiltskin whispered, and Belle could hear his voice shaking.

The fact that he was as terrified as she was gave her courage. Do the brave thing, she told herself, thinking of the rose still held in her hand. Now it was pressing against Rumplestiltskin’s upper arm, and Belle was sure he hadn’t missed that.

“Because I could love you…if you’d let me,” she whispered in return, holding her breath.

Rumplestiltskin jerked back, his eyes wide, tearing away from Belle’s hands. “…What?”

“I think you heard me.” Belle wasn’t sure if she had the courage to repeat the words, but she found them slipping out, anyway. “I think I love you.”

“No.” Now he skittered back even further, shaking his head wildly. “No, no, no no, no. You can’t. You shouldn’t.”

“What?” Belle gaped.

“You can’t.”

“I think it’s up to me to decide who I love.” She hadn’t expected this reaction, hadn’t been braced for Rumplestiltskin to respond so hostilely. Was he that afraid of her? Or had she misread all the signs of his affection during the last few months, the way he’d slowly opened up to her and the way he smiled at her?

“You can’t love me.” Rumplestiltskin seemed to come back on balance, just a little. “I’m a monster. I’m—”

“Don’t call yourself that!”

“But I am. And that is why you have to go.” He held up a hand when she opened her mouth to argue, a twisted by sad smile crossing his face. “I am not…someone who can love you properly. And I am dangerous, Belle.”

She shook her head, her heart soaring as Belle realized that it wasn’t a lack of feeling that made Rumplestiltskin object to her words. “I’m not going anywhere. And I’m not afraid of you.”

“You should be.”

“I’m not.” Belle reached for him again, certain that he wouldn’t pull away a second time—until he did.

Violently.

“You should be!” Rumplestiltskin’s snarl became a shout. “Whatever you think I am, I am not. I am—I am dangerous. And you, little missy, should run from the likes of me screaming!”

“Well, I’m not running. And I’m not afraid.” Belle managed to grab his hand, and the softest and most broken expression she had ever seen crossed his face. “Rumple, please.”

“No!” He wrenched free of her again, his expression turning viciously furious. The sudden changes were enough to give Belle whiplash. “Love is a distraction! Love is nothing! I don’t need this, I don’t—I can’t—” Rumplestiltskin shook his head so hard that his messy curls went every which way, backing up so quickly that he tripped over his own feet, barely catching himself before he fell. “No. No, you don’t know what you’re saying. I won’t let you do this. I won’t!”

“This isn’t all your choice!” Goaded into anger, Belle strode forward, shouting back at him. “No one decides my fate but me, and you don’t get to decide who I love!”

“Foolish girl! I am the Dark One, not some suitor with a—a—” Rumplestiltskin seemed unable to carry his anger far enough to finish the sentence, and his voice faltered. She could see the battle in his eyes, the war between love and darkness, but even as Belle reached out a fourth time, he vanished in a cloud of black smoke.

A/N: I apologize for the long delay before this chapter…life just got the better of me. I had a bad case of writer’s block, but it seems to be over now.

Stay tuned for Chapter 13—“…Let Her Go,” in which Morgan confronts Rumplestiltskin, Zelena receives an unexpected visitor of the fairy sort, and things come to a head between Rumplestiltskin and Belle.

#a different battle #rumbelle fic #angst warning ahead #dark castle rumbelle #ouat au #idiot dark one #sometimes Belle is too quick to judge #but she knows him too well

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