#there is like nothing on her yet but i like how mysterious and manipulative she is already LOL
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
pairing: alastor x reader
part 1 / part 2
alastor paced in his room, still bothered by the strange familiarity of your last name, unable to shake the feeling that it held some deeper meaning. he had half a mind to dismiss it as coincidence, but alastor was nothing if not thorough. deciding he could use a second opinion, he sought out charlie, hoping her knowledge of the hotel’s heavenly alliances could shed some light on the mystery.
he found her in her office, poring over a stack of documents from recent hotel guests. as he entered, charlie glanced up and raised an eyebrow.
“alastor?” she asked, a bit surprised. “need something?”
with a measured smile, he said, “charlie, i’d like to inquire about something… peculiar.”
she put down her papers and leaned forward with a curious expression. “sure, what’s on your mind?”
“the human heaven wants me to court” alastor folded his arms, considering how best to frame his question. “when i finally got her to introduce herself, she gave me her name. (y/n) (y/l/n).”
“(y/l/n)?” charlie repeated, frowning in thought. “huh…that does sound familiar.”
“i thought the same thing,” alastor said, eyes narrowing. “i can’t quite place it, but something about it feels… significant. almost celestial.”
charlie nodded slowly, an inkling of recognition in her gaze. “if it’s who I’m thinking of, that name goes back generations… there was once an angel, long ago, who left a mark on both heaven and earth. he fell in love with a human woman, and together, they had children.”
alastor’s eyes gleamed with interest. “a scandalous love affair between heaven and earth? how positively delightful,” he drawled. “but i assume there’s more to it than just that.”
charlie leaned back, her expression turning somber. “there is. angels aren’t allowed to have attachments like that, and when heaven found out, he had to flee. he abandoned the woman and his children to save himself. they say that such a heartbreak made waves through heaven and hell, like some sort of power emanated from her”
Alastor’s smile faded slightly as he absorbed this. “are you suggesting that this… lineage has left some remnant of angelic blood and heaven wants me to break her heart to get their hand on her and study this strange phenomenon?”
“that’s what i thought when i figured out where her last name was from” charlie replied softly. “it makes sense that anyone connected to that bloodline has powers beyond heaven’s comprehension, a power that heaven would never ignore.”
alastor leaned back, processing this new information. “so, this means our dear (y/n) is in great danger?”
“yes,” charlie agreed, her expression one of concern. “actually she may be in more danger than either you and i realize.”
alastor stood there, silent for a moment as he weighed the implications of what charlie had revealed. a power that heaven feared yet coveted—a power that could be triggered by heartbreak. the very thought twisted something deep inside him, making him feel an unfamiliar pang. normally, he’d relish the idea of manipulating someone so close to heaven, of causing anguish for his own gain, but this felt…different. perhaps because you were different.
“fascinating,” he murmured, though his voice lacked its usual enthusiasm. “it seems heaven wants me to be a weapon, rather than a suitor.”
charlie watched him carefully, as if gauging his reaction. “alastor,” she said gently, “you don’t have to do what they want. you don’t have to hurt her.”
alastor scoffed, his smile snapping back into place, but even he could sense a hint of strain behind it. “of course i don’t have to,” he replied, almost dismissively.
charlie looked unconvinced, her brow furrowing as she searched his face. “if you start something with her—whatever it is heaven wants—it’s going to put her in a lot of danger. they’ll push you to break her heart, to shatter her. and if she’s anything like her ancestor…” her voice softened. “she don’t deserve that, alastor.”
alastor was silent, that cheshire grin faltering as he thought of your expression, that mix of wariness and determination whenever he tried to charm you with his usual unsettling theatrics. the game had seemed so straightforward before, but now? now there was an invisible weight pressing on his every decision.
“if i choose not to do heaven’s bidding…” he mused, his tone thoughtful, “there’s always the chance they’ll send someone else to ensure her suffering. someone less… courteous, besides…”
alastor never told charlie what he would lose if he didn’t agree to do exactly what heaven wants and he wasn’t going to tell her now, that was his business to deal with.
charlie nodded, somewhat understanding his unspoken dilemma. “you’ll need to protect her,” she said quietly, “not just from heaven, but from hell, too.”
alastor let out a low chuckle, dark and almost self-deprecating. “imagine that: alastor, the radio demon, champion of heaven’s little prodigy. how quaint.”
charlie’s face softened. “maybe it’s more than that. maybe… she’s worth protecting. for her own sake.”
alastor didn’t reply immediately. instead, he stood there, his gaze distant as he processed this uncharted path opening before him. protecting you, shielding you from the very forces that had initially made him their pawn—it would mean defying both heaven and hell, something he hadn’t dared in centuries. yet, a twisted part of him relished the challenge, even as another, unfamiliar part of him tugged in a way that was… tender.
“perhaps i shall take your advice, my dear charlie,” he finally said, his voice soft but resolute. “not out of benevolence, mind you. but because i loathe the idea of heaven believing they can manipulate me to their whims.” his eyes flashed with that familiar gleam, but it held a new, defiant determination. “and if keeping her heart intact spoils their little scheme, then all the better.”
charlie offered a small smile, her eyes filled with hope. “thank you, alastor. i think, for once… you’re doing something good.”
he merely chuckled, waving a dismissive hand. “let’s not get too sentimental, charlie. this is simply… an unconventional power play. nothing more.”
but as he left her office, a flicker of doubt crept into his mind. it wasn’t just a game anymore, was it?
taglist: @vxllys @songbirdpond
33 notes
·
View notes
Text
One giji concepts :)
#tpot#the power of two#bfdi#battle for dream island#osc#bird art#there is like nothing on her yet but i like how mysterious and manipulative she is already LOL#thinking ab making her Two's golden child sister that is better than him at everything lol#also lowk shipping her w Four already UGGAH SIGH toxic yuri moment
81 notes
·
View notes
Note
Yandere!Limerence!Giyuu Hc's pls? Both nsfw and sfw<3 your writing is so good btw! I'm inlove with limerence🤍🤍 sorry if it's not specific enough 🥹 I just can't get enough of giyuu<3
⋆♱⋆IN LIMERENCE
Warnings: Yandere Behaviors, Loads of Manipulation and Gaslighting, Stalking, Nsfw in the end, tiny bit of somno at the end. MDNI
Pairings: Yandere! Giyuu Tomioka x Fem! Androphobic Reader
The moment that Giyuu finds out about your fear of men, he resorts to an act of shame: He pretended to be a girl, knowing full well how deeply traumatized you are by your male comrades—hell you’re even afraid of your own mentor — Uzui, so who’s to say that you wouldn’t be scared of him if you find out that he’s a male?
So In an act of desperation, he lowers himself so low, because he doesn’t want you to hate him, reasoning with himself that you already see him as a girl anyway, like, his pronouns suddenly turns from he/him to she/her whenever you’re near, not only that, he makes sure to make his voice as soft and as feminine as possible whenever you’re near, after all, he can’t have his pretty darling afraid of him now, can he?
He doesn’t mind wearing makeup or lipstick as long as it doesn’t jeopardize his cover. The other Hashiras were beginning to question whether Giyuu was transgender, and while this wounded his pride, his primary desire for you to be comfortable with him was more stronger than the shame he’s feeling.
He gets jealous whenever you’re near Mitsuri and Shinobu, because he knew damn well that those two girls obviously has feelings for you and they have a lot of chance with you, considering your androphobia — and the fact that there’s a 70% chance that you might be a girl kisser.
He doesn’t like the fact that the two girls, Especially mitsuri — who wasn’t afraid of showing her feelings for you, always hugging you and bombarding you with compliments. Because honestly, what’s the point of having those two girls around when you can have him instead?
He showers you with gifts and often treats you to outings, but truthfully? Those are just his ploys to isolate you from everyone else, after all, he craves your presence and has already sunk to great lows for you; and he definitely won’t let you slip away from his fingers.
He would always stalk you, so he would eventually find out the things that you liked, the things that makes you tick, your fear, and other stuff, and he uses it to his own advantage — especially your androphobia, saying things about the other hashiras, especially the male ones, about how they treat him so bad, and how they make him feel like an outcast. And honestly? you’ll have a hard time trying to find out whether he’s being genuine or not, because it was very obvious that the other hashiras dislikes him. The fact that he’s such a soft-spoken manipulator doesn’t help either
He’s totally into it when you play with his hair; it’s like his personal spa day, He’ll plop his head on your lap like it’s a throne, soaking up your ramblings like they’re the latest gossip,
Here’s where it gets a tad too cozy: whenever you’re yapping about the mysteries of the universe, and there he is, lounging on your lap, His fingers would start their little expedition up your thigh, but don’t worry, he’s a gentleman—he’ll halt if you give him a swat or tell him to stop. But if you let him continue? Well, let’s just say that’s a one-way ticket to a very different conversation.
Giyuu really loves pleasuring you with his fingers and mouth, his fingers would drill deep into your dripping pussy, while he whispers sweet nothings into your ears while he fingers you. Yet, beneath this guise of sweetness, a hidden agenda brews. He hopes—prays—that the intensity of your ecstasy will render you oblivious to the prominent bulge that would always tent his pants, whenever he would get the chance to get in your pants.
He totally shuts you down when it comes to him getting any pleasure, like, no way! If you did, you’d realize he’s definitely a guy, not a girl! So, it’s mostly him just giving you some action. Deep down, he’s kinda happy you’re not sexually active and just goes with the flow. And Honestly? He probably thinks you’re asexual. But man, when he gets all worked up and his cock starts leaking and getting painfully hard, he just ends up taking care of it himself. Sometimes, though, when you’re snoozing, he can’t help but use your hand to get himself off instead.
©𝐍𝐲𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐚𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐡 || 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 || 𝐋𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐖𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐩𝐚𝐝.
𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬, 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝.♡
𝐀/𝐍: WOAHHH, this is the first time i got asked for hc’s on one of my books😭😭 so this is actually pretty unique LOL. Anyways, this hc’s is based of my book: Limerence. It’s a yandere!kny book and it’s a harem — it’s why mitsuri and shinobu r said to have feelings for you:) you can go check it out on my wattpad! It’s the rewritten version, but if you read the quotev version (the previous one) it’ll make sense why reader thinks that giyuu is a girl, since the rewritten version hasn’t reached that part yet. But i suggest that you read the rewritten version more cause the orig is cringe af LOL.
#⌞𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖ 夜𝐚𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐡 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬📝 ⌝#giyuu x reader#giyuu tomioka#giyuu smut#yandere x reader#yandere giyuu#yandere kny#kny smut#kny x reader#shinobu x reader#mitsuri x reader#demon slayer giyuu#demon slayer smut#kny headcanons#demon slayer headcanons#kny hcs#giyuu headcanons#yandere#yandere demon slayer#uzui tengen
340 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Broken Vow
Description: You met your husband when you were children, foolishly following the pull of first love. Nothing seemed impossible with him holding your hand; dreams and hopes at your fingertips. But when an accident happened, and you were left alone in this world, you learned how to rebuild it without him. Years later he’s back by your side, the only problem – he’s not too keen on having been replaced. It’s not your fault...right?
Warnings: manipulation, yandere, hospitals, divorce, mentions of death, angst, weight loss (not by MC), power corruption, self-condemnation. Please keep in mind this is a yandere story.
Word Count: ~13.5k
One-shot
!In no way of shape and form do I think this is how Jungkook acts in real life, this is pure work of fiction, so if you choose to read it, please keep that in mind!
Life is the biggest mystery of them all. You’ve promised yourself to never again take it for granted, yet now you wish the time to stop, and for you to disappear in it.
You don’t remember how you got here, the parking lot of the hospital seems eerily empty, the vacant lights illuminating the lone space. You rest your head against the seat and wish for whomever is upstairs to give you strength, you remember how you prayed years on end for this day to come, but now that it’s here, you’re at a loss of what to do.
Notifications from your phone light the car, and for the first time in hours, you pick up your muted phone and scroll through the countless messages and calls, some from unknown numbers, probably the medical staff, and some from people you tried your best to forget.
3.04 a.m.
You should’ve been here at least an hour ago, but the ride took almost twice as much as it should’ve. The speed of your car never nearing the limit, every yellow light stopped at, and every minute spent in silence. No music, no thoughts, just silence.
If it were to happen two years ago, you would’ve jumped in relief and happiness, thousand possibilities running through your mind, and body jittering in anticipation, but as you walk through the hospital door, you look around lost. Not sure where to go, not sure if you wish to go.
The reception stares right at you, and you know you should probably go there, but your legs mindlessly carry you to the waiting area. You sit down and look at the people around you, only a few give you company in the dead of night.
A woman sits in front of you, dried tears trace her face, as she clutches the hand of a man besides her. Probably her husband. You watch how he caresses her hand, while they mutter something under their breath, and fresh tears fall from her eyes. It looks like they’re praying. Should you be crying as well?
From your peripheral vision you see someone stand next to you, but you can’t hear what they’re saying, as you continue to watch the sorrowful woman in front of you.
“Mrs. Jeon?”
You play with the gold ring on your finger, the jewelry calms your mind, as you mindlessly twirl it around.
Cough sounds besides you, “Mrs. Jeon?”
Not so far along you were in her shoes, the memory still fresh in your mind. How you sat in the seat for hours, crying and hoping for God to take pity on you. But now you pity the woman; she doesn’t know that the seat she’s occupying will soon become her second home.
A hand on your shoulders breaks your trance, and you look up confused as the nurse once again asks, “Mrs. Jeon?”
Only now you realize she’s speaking to you, and you’re quick to start, “No, no, I’m not-” but you catch yourself, and swallow your words as the realization hits you. No one has addressed you in such way for years, and her words trigger a distant past.
The woman looks at you expectantly, but all you manage to do is stand up and barely nod your head, as memories from years ago plays out in your head.
She outstretches her hand, a light smile graces her tired face, “Mrs. Jeon, I’m your husbands’ doctor, we talked previously,” you shake her hand, only half-heartedly listening to her words, and silently follow her lead.
“Your husband has been asking for you, and dare I say he’s very persistent,” she chuckles, and you butt in, “He’s awake?” she must’ve seen panic travelling through your body, as your hands start to shake and suddenly your surroundings seem grounded, the sleep like state ripped away like a bandage.
“He awoke 2 hours ago,” you stop near a door, laughter resonating from it, and you swear, the voices seem eerily familiar, “your family is with him right now, but he keeps asking for you.”
“His family is here?” she nods her head, and you’re not sure if you can do this. They don’t want to see you, the last time you spoke, you made his mother cry, and his brother chose to ignore your existence.
You drag your hands down your face, you must look a mess, hair sticking every way possible, and the pajamas mixed with your sneakers surely doesn’t help. You feel the doctor’s hand on your shoulder and with a squeeze she points towards the closed door.
Before she leaves, you grab her hand and mutter the words that keep ringing in your head, “How is this possible? Everyone said there’s no hope if I had known...” your words slowly fade, as you watch her with tearful eyes, hoping she’d understand.
“Your husband was taken for his annual checkup, and we noticed some…” she stops and thinks of the correct words, “elements that shouldn’t be present with his condition.” You nod your head, clinging to her every word, hoping that you weren’t at fault for this.
“We did some additional tests, and they came back positive for minimal consciousness.” She holds your hands when your lips began to tremble, “And after your agreeance, we gave him course of amphetamine, and now here we are.”
Her smile should’ve calmed you, but shame manages to creep up your veins; how are you supposed to face him? If he’s been asking for you, surely, he doesn’t know anything. Or perhaps he does and wants to see you begging for forgiveness.
The doctors’ steps slowly fade away, and you’re left with the door glaring daggers into your soul. You try to remind yourself that these are good news, you’d hoped for years on end for this day to come, then why does what’s hidden behind the door scare you so much?
You hear the voices of his family members through the walls, voices from people you used to call your own family. You haven’t talked to them for two years, even if some of them tried to reach out to you.
The room feels suffocating even through the door, you envision their judging stares, and harsh whispers. You lay your head against the door and try to calm yourself. Perhaps they won’t let you in, chase you away even before you step a foot in. But through the war in your head, you hear a soft voice, such a delicate voice you think your mind made it up.
Tears spring to your eyes, as you realize it’s truly him; ever since the doctor called you, all you could think of was his family, the possibility of him being awake seemed so unimaginable, that you didn’t dare to hope.
His voice calls you like a melody, the soft hums you longed to hear for one last time. Gently you open the door, and the room falls silent, distasteful looks thrown at you from every corner. Slowly you step in, still keeping the door open, you wrap your hands around your body when you notice how elegant everyone looks.
What else could you expect from the Jeons? Makeup in the middle of night, suits and silk dresses are a norm, you should know, this was your life not so long ago. You try to soothe down your hair, while stuttering, “H-Hello,” you don’t await a response, and feel yourself caving in further, the dark gazes you expected are overpowering, and you’re close to running out of the room.
“Can I come in?” you try, you truly try to make this less awkward, but you hear your voice quivering, and their heated stares make you turn to the door, longing for a breath of air.
Before you manage to run out of the confined space, Jungkooks’ mom steps up, and approaches you, “Child, I’m so happy to see you,” she grabs your hands, and you manage to smile back, at least someone in this room doesn’t hate you.
Your relief is short lived, as a man’s voice comments from the front of the bed, “Took her long enough” Your gaze drifts to him, as Jungkooks mother scolds him, and you hear a familiar voice, hidden between the sea of people, disapprove as well, “Jin, don’t speak to her like that.”
Your breath hitches, and you try to look past the bodies hiding him from your view. Involuntarily your lips start to tremble, all you manage to decipher is his raven black hair and hand that tries to shoo his family away from blocking you, but that is enough for tears to trace down your cheeks.
You feel a hand on your shoulder, and your gaze snaps back to his mom, and her sympathizing smile makes your tears fall down quicker, “All right everyone, let’s head out, and give them some space.”
You start to protest, as much as you wish to see him, you’re also afraid. You don’t know how much he knows, but your hands tremble from the idea of seeing him for the first time in years. Jungkooks mom stops you before you manage to say a word, “You’ve some explaining to do, and we must start preparing for court.”
Your eyes snap to her, and with furrowed brows you mutter, “You’re suing them?”, and the room fills with arrogant chuckles, “They took my baby away for years, of course we’ll sue those incompetent doctors.” She states while longingly looking towards the hidden bed.
Jin shoots you a grimace and mutters as he passes you by, “That’s the least we can do, they don’t deserve their certificate. Those doctors should not be allowed to step near a patient ever again.” He stops by the door and looks you over, suddenly your shoes seem like the most interesting thing in the world.
“They should know what happens when you mess with Jeons.” His words feel directed not only to the poor professionals. They should know indeed, and if they don’t, then they’ll have to learn the hard way. That much you can say from your own experience.
Jungkooks mom stands besides Jin, and pats his cheek while muttering, “You’re right son, now that both my babies are back, they’ll see why you don’t mess with attorneys.” You choose to stay quiet; they can barely stand your existence as it is, you doubt that they would overlook you going against them again.
Silence entails once more, as everyone leaves the room, you don’t miss how they keep a great distance passing you by, as if the mere presence of you disgusts them. But this was to be expected, and you stand still, not looking up till you hear the door close.
It takes a good minute for you to gather yourself and look up, but when you see him lying in the bed awake, looking at you with the love filled smile he used to give you, the barely patched up walls of your heart break, and you cover your mouth to silence the sob that wrecks your body.
Your feet carry you closer to him, and you stand by the bed, body shaking and tears falling. His hand reaches out to you, trying to comfort your restless mind, and you throw yourself in his embrace, the soft huff and chuckle rumbling his chest.
His heart beats against your own, and you pull him closer, not fully believing that you’re not dreaming. Hidden in his chest you whisper, “Is this real?”, but the hand that caresses your hair confirms your suspicion, this is real.
The countless years spent lying on his chest, praying that one day he awakens and embraces you like he used to leaves a bitter taste on your tongue, and you pull away just enough to see his bright eyes and gentle smile, and fall back into his chest, cherishing the moment at hand.
He leaves soft kisses on your head, and you let tears fall freely on his hospital gown, you forgot how warm his skin is, how comforting his touch is, the lonesome years left you with nothing but the far memory of it.
“Has it truly been seven years?” his voice sounds scratchy, his vocal cords vulnerable from all the years spent in silence. You raise your head to look at him, tears still falling, and caress his face noting the beard that has taken its place.
You nod your head and shakily mutter, “Almost eight”, to be precise seven years and two hundred and fifty-seven days of him laying motionless, unaware of his surroundings and your breaking heart. Jungkook heaves a sigh, and you lean into his touch, relishing his warm hand drawing patterns over your cheek.
He carefully examens your face, taking into account every detail and new wrinkle, “You look-”, playfully you groan, and sniffle, “Old? Like a train wreck?” to which he chuckles, and you can’t help yourself but do the same, you haven’t heard his laugh in so long, the sound almost hypnotizing.
“I was going to say beautiful,” you shake your head at his teasing grin, “God truly took his time on you, age suits you well. I just wish I was here to see it; it feels like only a day has passed, yet everything has changed.”
Your smile slowly fades, oh, he has no idea how much everything has changed, but you don’t wish to break his heart, so you opt to cheer up the dampening mood, “And you look like a cave man”
You brush your fingertips against his beard, something he used to keep track of to never grow out. His hair is also noticeably longer, brushing past his shoulders. You used to be the one who cut it, and shaved his face, but you haven’t been here for almost two years.
His hand moves to your chin, and your heart stutters; even though years have passed, he still acts like the man you loved, bringing you closer by your chin to kiss you. Now quickly realizing his motive, you back away and mutter, “We should probably do something about it, there must be shaving cream somewhere nearby”
If he notices the distance you created, he chooses to ignore it, a light furrow of his brows all is seen, before it morphs into a smile once more, “And here I thought you promised to love me for better or worse, even when I turn into a cave man”
Your heart sinks at his words, even though they are true, you’ve no clue how to even start to explain how you broke your vows, crumbled them like a piece of paper. You start to get up in search of a nurse, but Jungkook quickly stops you and presses a button, to which one quickly comes in and leaves in search of Jungkooks demand.
You sit back in a chair and enjoy his silent company while you wait for her to come back, seeing him conscious, breathing and back to his normal self is more than you could’ve asked for, and you can’t stop the tears that grace your waterline.
“I felt like I was going insane while waiting for you. Jin said you moved to another city...?” his questioning gaze looks over your features, and you distantly hum, when the nurse comes back and leaves a small bowl of water, razor, and some shaving cream.
Gently you start applying the cream on his face, and you feel his eyes burning, trying to catch your gaze. Continuing your work, you start to explain, careful with your wording, as the subject entails more than you wish to tell, “It was hard being there alone. But I didn’t sell it if you’re worried about that”
Understandingly he nods his head, and you cup his chin while gently scolding him for moving, afraid to accidentally cut his skin. You see his muscles morph into a smile, and you stop your movements, and look him in the eye as you shake your head with a smile of your own.
You lead the razor gently over the white foam and see glimpse of his youthful skin hidden behind it, “I can’t wait to go back home with you, these hospital beds will give me a backache like no other. Our bed is far more comfortable, not to mention you, who’s the softest pillow to exist.”
You press your lips together, and tightly smile; silence might be the best answer for now. You let his dreams carry on, couple of years ago you would’ve fallen into them with him, but now, you know you can’t afford to do so.
But the sparkles that coat his eyes are too bright and tender for you to extinguish, yes, you are selfish, you allow yourself to live in the fantasy-esque world that Jungkook desperately tries to pull you in, even just for a moment. You lost him for so long, barely found a footing in this world alone, but now that he’s here, the idea of losing him again hurts more than words could entail.
Jungkook is no fool, he sees that something is amiss. Your tense body, and pursed lips tell him that much. He tries to be gentle, it’s understandable that you’re confused, after all almost 8 years have passed. But it irks him when you refuse his touch, doing so seamlessly, that one might not even notice.
But someone isn’t Jungkook, he’s your husband, and has been your lover for six years before the accident. The past few hours have been dubious; at first everyone was elated, tears filled the room as more and more people came in.
But with each time the door opened his patience tinned out, they weren’t you, and as much as he was grateful to see everyone, the one he truly longed for wasn’t there. He tried to calm himself, he knew that you’re well and somewhere nearby, as the doctor said they talked to you, but every time he brought you up, the room turned silent, anxious looks passed by everyone present, till they ended the subject with, hopefully she’ll be here soon, and you’ll understand everything.
Now, what was ‘hopefully’ supposed to mean?
“I’m sorry about Jin, I don’t know what came over him” he starts, carefully observing your movements, but you tick your head, and forcefully shake the razor in the bowl. “He’s your brother, he was only looking out for you.”
“But you have great relationship, he shouldn’t speak to you like that” the sad smile that graces your lips makes him even more confused, “We did. But after you-” you sigh and drop the razor in the bowl, and grab a towel, softly wipe the residue off his skin “A lot has changed, I had a falling out with your family”
You focus all your attention on patting his skin dry, but his hand stops yours, and when you look up you see the light panic clouding his eyes, “How is that possible? Is it because of the accident?” you shush his rambling, and smile while caressing his jaw, “Don’t worry about it, at least now you’re no longer a cave man.”
He huffs, but you don’t pay it any attention, just appreciate his smooth skin that seems radiant in comparison to the last time, when you said your goodbyes to him. You allow him to play with your fingers, and don’t even notice when he pulls your hand closer to his face.
“Why are your fingertips cut? Do they hurt? Your skin isn’t as smooth as it usually is…” you laugh at his zeroed-in attention on your fingers, and with adoration explain, “I’m used to it, I work as a hairdresser now, and every once in a while, help out in a farm”
His facial expression is one for the books, he starts to sit up, and anxiously you try to stop him, but he stubbornly ignores your protests while cradling your hand to his heart, “What the hell did I miss? A hairdresser? But what about photography, it’s your dream!”
You nibble on your lip, while trying to think of a way to calm him down, this much stress surely isn’t good for his body, “Photography doesn’t pay the bills. I couldn’t stay here, Kook. I moved out and this was my only option.”
As much as you try to soothe him, your words go amiss, he shakes his head, thousand thoughts travelling through it, “I don’t get it, you had my trust fund, you shouldn’t have to worry about bills”
He tries to understand, he truly does, but something doesn’t add up, and it keep him on the edge. You move closer to him, and sit on the bed next to him, hoping that it would ease his mind, “They cut me off,” before Jungkook starts to panic, you continue, “we got into an argument, and that was my decision, I stand by it.”
Jungkook shakes his head and opens his mouth, but nothing comes from it. You watch how he falls back onto the pillows with a frustrated sigh, “It doesn’t matter. I’m here now, and I’ll handle it. I should’ve taken care of you, and I failed.”
You shake your head, “Don’t say that. Just promise to never again touch a motorcycle in your life.” He takes your hands in his own and presses kisses all over while repeatedly mumbling, “I’m sorry”
“It must’ve been so hard for you. I’ll get discharged, and we’ll move back into our own place, everything will be back to normal. You won’t have to worry about a single thing.”
Nothing will ever be the same, but he’s clueless. Your heart clenches as you realize you have to tell him the truth. He’s living in the idyllic life you created years ago, oblivious of how broken it now is. You have to tell him.
You straighten you back and ready yourself for what’s to come, “Jungkook, I-” But before you manage, he stops you
“What’s that?”
You follow his gaze, and your breath hitches. “That’s my ring, Jungkook.” His grip tightens around your fingers, and very slowly grits out, “That is not our wedding ring”
His gaze travels to your own and noticing the tears clouding your gaze his eyes narrow, “No, it’s not. But it is my wedding ring.”
Silence overtakes the room, but his eyes don’t stray from you, unblinking, frozen, trying to make sense of what you’ve told. “You cannot remarry when you’re already married. To me, might I add.” He articulates every word slowly, as if speaking to a child, and you shake your head and somewhat shamefully mutter, “We’ve been divorced for almost three years”
His neck slowly turns red, and his muscles are strained, veins popping out of his neck and forehead. You feel the doom coming, and you try to make him understand, “Jungkook, please understand. You were basically dead, and I waited for years but I-”
“What the fuck do you mean you’re married to someone else” his voice raises, and you feel the words vibrate through your body, “Jungkook,” is all you manage to whimper.
“You are my wife,” he hits his chest, “My wife, what are you even talking about?!” at this point he’s screaming, and you try to shush him to no avail.
His words become distant, once you see tears streaming down his cheeks. His hand is wailing around, neck strained and face red, and forcefully he pulls you closer by the hand he’s still gripping with full force.
You don’t hear the nurses running in, your eyes zeroed on his enraged state, he tries to push them away, and you force your hand out of his, to try and move away. But your actions don’t go unnoticed, as Jungkook close to lunges toward you.
Everything becomes white noise, and you see everyone screaming, nurses barely able to hold him back from you. He fights against their grip, but his body is frail, and the pool of workers press his body down, all while he scratches, screams and throws pillows every way possible.
Distinctly you hear one of them scream about sedating him, and your body finds the last bit of strength to run out of the room. But you don’t get far, as just outside you bump into his doctor, the poor woman looking over your shoulder astonished, as everything progresses downhill.
You hear him scream your name time after time, but you look at the woman in front of you, and cry out, “I can’t be here, take me off his medical proxy,” You’re out of breath, and you try to mutter a legitimate sentence over your cries, “Ask his brother, anyone, just please-” your words fade, and the woman stares at you in shock, but Jungkook keeps calling your name, and you can’t bear to hear his broken cries. He sounds like a wounded animal, and the sound chills you to the bone.
You push past her and run towards the exit, from your peripheral vision you see his family crowded around the hall, but you don’t stop, even when you hear their voices mixed with Jungkooks shouting after you. You have to get out of here.
Your body moves on its own accord, and perhaps your stressed mind is playing games with you, but you feel someone running after you. Jungkooks cries echo through your mind even when you find yourself in the parking lot, hands shaking, trying to unlock your car.
With trembling hands, you try to ignite the engine, but it won’t start up, frustrated, you hit the steering wheel with your palms, and pray that this isn’t the time your car decides to give up. With a look to the hospitals entrance, you see a dark silhouette running out, you were right, someone was indeed chasing after you.
Praying that they won’t notice you, you sink into the seat, and try to start up your car once more, it takes couple of seconds, but when it does you heave a sigh, and see that the person noticed you only now, headlights turning you in.
You don’t wait to find out who it is, or what they want from you, swiftly you press the gas pedal, and rush back home.
04.46 a.m.
If the road to the hospital took you almost three hours, now you don’t care if you’re speeding, only thing you wish for is to be in your husbands’ arms and cry your heart out. Yes, perhaps you missed a couple of red lights, but you’re too far gone, lost in the labyrinth of your mind to care.
06.10 a.m.
The edges of the clouds shine in golden sparkles, and the darkness slowly dissipates, as sun makes itself known. You drive through the depths of forest green, the car wobbles on the bumpy road, but you feel the end of your misery, as you see glimpse of your home in the distance.
Your body feels frozen, every action robotic, your goal the only thing in mind. You stop the car near the entrance of your home, the stone walls of the house seem lament, and you step out of the car, finally able to take a deep breath.
The door opens, and the gray monotone vanishes, once you see your husband. He looks visibly nervous, but he tries to smile to ease your mind. “How did it go?” his hair is disheveled, and eyes drowsy, it looks like he couldn’t sleep, anxiously waiting for you to come back.
You take a deep breath, and ready yourself to explain how horribly everything transcribed, but all you manage is to whimper “Tae,” before you run into his warm embrace, and let the dam of tears loose.
He caresses your head, and rocks you from side to side, you’re not sure how long you spend like this, you, hyperventilating on his chest, and him, embracing you in his warmth, trying to hold his own tears in. But when you calm down, and look up, the sky is baby blue, sun rays blinding you.
~
Some say you can’t avoid things you don’t want to deal with, but you're determined to prove them wrong.
For the past week, you’ve buried yourself in work, either at the hair salon, or, more so, helping Tae with farm work. Now more than ever you relish his company, his touch and gleaming smile helps you forget about everything else.
But with ignorance comes sloppiness. You can’t count the number of times you’ve accidentally cut your fingers, while trimming someone’s hair, or daydreamed while coloring hair, only for the end result being a two shades different color.
On top of that, Tae’s farm has gotten multiple complaints, so it made sense for you to clock out of work to help him. You’re applying the last bit of color on clients’ roots, every once in a while, humming along her story that, if you remember correctly, is of how her son drove her car in a ditch.
You make sure the color is blended in evenly when your phone rings. After the events in the hospital, your phone was flooded with messages, and the constant ringing was too much for both you and the phone, as it continued to glitch out.
You contemplated the idea of changing your number, but the next day complaints started coming in, and you decided that this isn’t the best time, both financially, and in case someone needs to reach out to you about that. And even if you don’t want to admit it to yourself, somewhere deep down you knew that won’t stop him. But Taehyung advised you to mute everyone’s notifications except for his, and so far, the proposal has worked perfectly.
Quickly you apologize to the woman, and pull off one of the gloves, while answering the phone, “Hi, honey. I’m working, is everything all right?”
His voice comes out rushed, and your smile fades, as you try to understand what he’s saying, “Can you slow down please, I can’t hear you”
He takes a deep breath and this time you manage to hear what he’s rambling, “Okey, I’ll be there soon, we’ll figure something out.” The line disconnects, and you curse under your breath, this isn’t good.
Moving into action, you grab your things, and turn towards one of your colleagues, while packing “Can you please take over my client? I have an emergency, and all that’s left is to wash her hair and style it” you ramble and look at her with puppy eyes.
“Which time is it this week? You can’t drop all of your clients on me” you clasp your hands together, and do your best to give her puppy eyes, but she rolls her eyes.
“I know, but it’s very urgent. Tae’s about to get sued, and he needs me”
She looks at you with a pitying gaze, “This one last time. Next time please remember that I also have a family to go back home to”
Quickly you kiss her cheek and turn to the exit, but you should’ve known that it won’t be this easy. Red fury, or rather, your boss stands at the aisle with a disapproving gaze. Before she starts to protest you butt in, “I know I’ve been distracted, but it’s truly an emergency. I promise once this is over, I’ll take double shifts, but please understand”
She looks nonchalant, and somehow you think that’s worse. She doesn’t scream, or scold you, but simply shakes her head, already given up, “Go,” quickly you thank her, but before you manage to exit, she notes over her shoulder,
“You haven’t been clocking in the hours. If this continues, I won’t have another option but to fire you.”
One foot out of the door you stop, at this point this job is your only income, but you make your decision, as your rush towards the car.
You try to convince yourself that there’s no other option, your husband needs you. You’ve already broken your previous vows, and sure as hell won’t do that again. After all you promised, for better and for worse.
One good thing about living in a village, everything is reachable in spam of minutes. But as you speed down the road, the idyllic ambience and joyous people make you feel like you’re suffocating.
This was never what you wanted, you enjoyed the bustling crowds and big cities dreams, but then the ground disappeared under your feet, and you were left all alone, lost, with no one there to ground you.
But then you met Taehyung, and he gave you another chance in life, even if it was the furthest thing from your reality. You could be the friendly neighbor who talks about her children morning-night. It never was your dream, but it is enough, because you have him.
You rush out of the car in search of him, for once thankful of your small home, as you quickly find him in the living room buried in scattered documents and disheveled hair. Once he notices your presence, he lifts his head up, and you kneel in between his legs to wipe his tears.
“What’s going on, Tae?” he shakes his head, and tries to calm himself. “They are suing me, and I don’t know what to do.”
When you left for work, things weren’t great, but they weren’t necessarily bad. You thought that this was another situation that would pass with time, but now you’re stuck, how could everything change so drastically in a few days?
“A little girl is lying in hospital because of me,” you shudder a breath and quickly stop him, “This isn’t your fault-”, he interrupts you, “But it is! I changed the supplier for a cheaper one, all the complaints, their health is on me!”
It doesn’t add up. He changed it two months ago, why are there problems all of a sudden? You watch his devastated face expression, at a loss of what to do to make everything better.
“Now, I have to compensate costumers, pay the workers, and find attorneys. I’ve already stopped all production, but I can’t fire everyone, they depend on me. I can’t believe I’ve ruined my family’s business.” He shakes his head, and you draw patters over his knee, not sure what to say, just listening.
“And I have no clue where to find resources for everything. I’ve already paid out most of our savings, and it’s just been a week. I don’t know what to do with court, you know how hard it’s to get attorneys.”
A thought strikes you, a possible solution to this whole thing. But you shake your head, as you realize what that would take out of you, you’re not sure if it would serve for better or worse. You rest your head against his knees, and think over the possibilities; you’re the last person he wants to see, you’re sure of that, but do you have a different solution?
But his screams still echo through your head, and you’re not sure if you can go through it again. But you have to try, for Tae.
“I might have a solution for that.” Confused he searches your eyes, and realization dawns upon him. Taehyung quickly gets up and starts pacing around the room. “I’m not putting you through that.”
“He’s our only option. There’s a reason why they’re the best attorneys in country. Worst case scenario, he can give us contacts or dismiss all together.” You don’t voice out the thought that he could indeed do worse, you’re not sure of his emotional state, but judging by the last time when multiple nurses had to hold him back from you, you’re going in blind. And honestly, you don’t blame him, you are at fault for his misery.
“Alright, but I’m coming with you.” A humorless laugh escapes you, “No, you’re not. He might be unwell, but if he sees you, rage will consume him. You didn’t see what I saw, he doesn’t want to see me honey, let alone you.”
Silence consumes the room, and you know that it’s agreed upon. You have to do this for Tae, and you know you’ve to talk to Jungkook. As much as you’d like to pretend the past 20+ years of your life didn’t happen, you can’t do that. You love him, but you can’t afford to do anything about it. You’re divorced, and that was your doing.
Turns out you can’t hide from things you don’t want to deal with.
~
You’re not sure if this is the right call; it’s been 5 minutes of you standing frozen in front of the door of a place you once called home. Not a single thing has changed, even the doorman recognized you, never mind that years have passed.
You calm yourself (rather try to convince yourself) that everything’s all right. You hoped that Jungkook would deny your request of meeting up, or rather not pick up the phone in general, but he answered on the first beep of the call.
The conversation wasn’t pleasant - even awkward - no pleasantries exchanged. You take a deep breath remembering the lone sentence he muttered during the phone call, “Are you coming back?”
Seeing him brought up memories and feelings you did your best to burry, most prominent one – guilt. You remember the incident at the hospital; how hard you tried to pretend as if nothing has changed, till the truth came out, and you saw his desperate eyes pleading for it to not be true.
Guilt you felt that moment was consuming, you knew that it’s your fault, so you ran. But somehow that didn’t help, only amplified the gut-wrenching pain of leaving the one you love behind, in pain and hurt.
But you comforted yourself with the knowledge he has a crowd of people by his side – they can patch up the tear you made. He doesn’t need you.
And as pathetic as it is, you’re afraid of stepping into the apartment. Isn’t it ironic, you’re the one who’s hurting him, yet you’re afraid of how you’ll feel. Selfishness at its best.
Straightening your back, you knock on the door, silence greets you, and after good 30 seconds you try again. When nothing happens, you try the door handle – it’s unlocked.
Door opens and the comforting smell of your home envelopes you, even if no one occupied it, somehow, it’s still drowning in the smell you seeked comfort in – your washed-out scent mixed with Jungkooks.
Slowly stepping in, you shudder a breath; you’re transported back 7 years ago, the creamy walls and coat racks filled with both of your jackets, messily thrown out shoes in the hall, and photography’s of your small family decorating the walls.
You close your eyes and envision Jungkook coming behind you to help you shrug off the coat, and give you a kiss on the cheek, while hugging you from behind. Just like he always did. The memory seems so tangible yet so far away.
But you open your eyes to the vacant hall, dust particles coting the furniture. Cold seeps under your skin, and you remind yourself of reality. Calling out Jungkooks name is useless, as silence welcomes your nervous state, but your body leads you to the living room, sort of déjà vu coaxing you to go there.
And just like you thought, he’s there. Overlooking the cities horizon, standing still besides the window, even when you address him.
“How are you?” you try to start a conversation and move closer and sit at the couch far enough from his reach, yet close enough to see his stiff body. But his back is turned to you, and he doesn’t give you the least bit of attention. “Door was unlocked, hope you don’t mind me barging into your home…”
“Our home” he’s quick to interrupt, awkwardly you shift weight from foot to foot, “Well, I’m glad you’re alright-” his hollow laugh makes you pause, not sure what to do. His emotions far too intense to what you’re used to, his aggravated scoff makes you sink in with guilt, the gentle mannerism he always bestowed hidden behind waves of betrayal.
Now looking at him through the reflection of the window, you can see he is not the man you’ve known and cherished dear to your heart. His body looks frail, you’re afraid that a stronger breeze of wind will make him break.
But still, your heart cries out for the past. And if it didn’t feel real beforehand, now it does.
He is wearing the sweatpants you bought him years ago, when you first moved into your apartment and decided to paint the walls yourself, you can still see washed out splotches of blue and white on them. Only now the pants are way too big for him, barely hanging on his hips, threatening to fall off any second. His shirt swallows his whole body, pitifully hanging from his shoulders, with no muscles or fat to cling on to.
“You left me. You threw me out the first chance I wasn’t of value to you anymore.” His words hurt you more than imaginable, and as much as you know that’s not the truth, you let him talk. You deserve to hear what you have done.
“And now I have nothing. No job, no home, no purpose, no-” his breath shutters before he whispers, “no one to come back to.”
“All I have is money and this empty space. Space that we built for our family.” He shakes his head, still not looking at you.
“Before you chose to exchange it for that low-life.”
You know what you have done is immoral, but your husband has done no wrong, only nothing less than hold you through these last horrid years.
“Jungkook stop. Please, don’t mix him into this, you know nothing about him-”
He turns to you, and you realize you mistook his anger for pain. His face is scrunched up, brows furrowed and eyes hollow with undeniable rage. You don’t recognize the person in front of you, the soft eyes you longed to gaze at one last time are long gone. And you can’t blame anyone else, but yourself.
He looks older, the dark circles beneath his eyes undeniable, the wrinkle that seems to be taken place in between his brows. And the sharp cheekbones that pinch through his skin. He looks unhealthy, his skin colored in yellowish tone.
“Don’t I? Aren’t you here because he lost his job? Because his dirty secret has come clean, and no one wants to be associated with him?” He steps closer to you.
“Because you want to beg me, your husband to take a pity of your side dick, and give him a job?” As he progresses towards you, you’re able to see how his body trembles, and at this point you don’t know if it’s due to his rage or unwell body.
“He’s not able to take care of himself, let alone you.”
“Am I wrong?”
Looking at his disheveled body, you know you can’t lie to him. You’ve done things you promised to never do in your vows. You hurt him, and you left him. And that’s the greatest pain one can cause another.
But you’re left confused. He knows. But how does he know? Has he been keeping tabs on you?
“Jungkook. Do you have any part in this?” You’re afraid to ask, the answer already looming in his previous words.
“And here I was hoping that my wife still cares for me. That she came to visit me, her husband, who has been almost dead for years.” He shakes his head with a scoff, and you look away.
“But no, she’s more worried about her affair. She doesn’t even care.”
“You know that’s not true.” You bite back your tears. There’s nothing you can say to make it better. You play with your fingers in your lap, too ashamed to look at him.
“Isn’t it? Because I’m here, waiting for you to turn up. And my wife isn’t even bothered to show when I’m being discharged. My wife doesn’t even care I wish I’d be dead, then live with the knowledge that she’s sleeping in someone else’s arms, living the perfect life we promised each other.” His voice breaks, but you still refuse to look at him. He’s crying, breaking down in front of you, and he has every right to do so, because you betrayed him.
Silence drags on, you, not able to look him in the eye, while he shakily breathes out, trying to stabilize his breaking heart. Pacify himself from the reality he’s welcomed to.
“But you know, I’m not sad. I’m angry.”
“I thought about killing your boy toy.” Frightened, you look up, “You know we have contacts for that, hundreds of them lining my phone, hoping we’ll help them in exchange for a favor. But then I thought, what a great feeling it would be to dig my nails through his skin, watch as the life trickles out of him, and smile, when his blood drowns my skin.” You rush to him, hoping to awaken him from his dulled thoughts.
But as you stand in front of him, you’re afraid to touch him, and the thought drives the knife in your heart deeper. You’re afraid to touch the man you promised to love for eternity. The man your heart yearned for years.
“And I want you to feel every bit as I do. I want you to hurt, the same way I do. I want you to see the world crumble beneath your feet and know that there’s nothing you can do about it.” His overbearing frame casts shadow over your form, and you mingle your hands together, trying to stay strong.
“But then I realized, that would be too easy. And you wouldn’t get your lesson. As it turns out, you still don’t know that wife doesn’t disobey her husband.”
“I have always been there for you. And now, you will see what it means, when I stop taking care of you. Because now, you can’t do anything, and I can do everything.”
The promise in his eyes scars you, but when you see the first tear trickling down his cheeks, when you see the hurt you bestowed upon him, nothing else matters except for him.
You watch how he starts to hyperventilate; his body shakes uncontrollably and his face pales. And the moment his knees buckle, your haze is broken, and you catch him in your arms. Panic overtakes every nerve in your body, and you call out for him, only to feel his tears on your shoulder.
You try to move his face towards yours, but he stubbornly shakes his head, hiding in the crook of your neck. “Jungkook, honey,” your voice trembles, “we have to get you to the couch,”
His heart pounds aggressively against your chest, you can’t muster what he sobs in your neck, his cries overpower any possibility of deciphering what he says. You feel your pulse in your ears, and you’re close to succumbing under his weight.
“Please, you have to lay on the couch.” You’re powerless, your own tears cloud your sight, the only thought running through your mind is to get him to safety. You move your hands around his waist, and you thank the gods, as Jungkook seems to hear your words, and weakly takes a step towards the seat.
To see a man, you love crumbled in your arms, barely standing, and breathing, breaks a piece of your sanity. You don’t know what your body is doing, but you zero on the couch, and only distinctly hear yourself muttering “We’re almost there, one more step” with every step you take.
You fall into the couch, your hands automatically reaching for his face, hoping to understand what is going on. You’re met with his blood-shot eyes and tear covered face, his breath is shallow, and you don’t know what to do.
Jungkook throws himself into your embrace, and you finally hear what he’s been muttering like a mantra all this time, and the words “please don’t leave me all alone” only serve to make your own tears escalate.
“I need to call the ambulance” you cry out, only for Jungkook to hold you tighter and cry out no one after the other. His breathing gets worse, and you realize if he doesn’t calm down, he will pass out.
“Jungkook, breathe.” You loudly breathe in and out, caressing his head, and feel him messily repeat your actions. Every second seems eternity long, and you pray to whomever sits upstairs, that he will be alright. With heavy chest you watch how his breathing normalizes, and sobs turn to hiccups, your body deflates, and you rest your head against his.
You allow your heart to stabilize, carefully listening to his shallow breaths, “Do you have any calming meds?” you whisper in his hair. He detaches from your skin and looks up.
“Please don’t go.” He defeatedly whispers. You hush him and rest your forehead against his, “I’m here, but I need to make sure you’re alright.” Uncertainly he nods, and points towards the kitchen.
You get up from the couch and Jungkook grabs your hand, “Kitchen” you whisper, and see the relief in his eyes. The moment he lets you go, you rush towards the room, you shake your head, as the kitchen counters are filled with bottles of medication, pills scattered all over.
You search through the bottles; your home never looked like this, Jungkook is a perfectionist, he never left a single dirty dish out, but now the space is covered in dust, no sense of your family home present.
Picking the right bottle, you search for water, only to realize it’s not here. You open the fridge to find it empty as well. Praying for the best, you open the trash, and you know you’ve failed him. You turn to the couch, to see Jungkook watching you with tears still running down his face.
You want to cry, but now is not the time, with both of you unstable no good will rise, and he needs you now. You try to silence your mind and fill up a glass with tap water. Thankfully, his family kept the apartment running.
You return to Jungkook and press the glass and pill in his hands. Silently you watch how he follows your command and bend down to your purse to fish out your phone. “What are you doing” he panics besides you. Before he starts to hyperventilate again, you grab his hand and as softly as possible whisper, “Only ordering food, don’t worry.”
You notice how your hands shake around your phone, barely managing to order, before your phone drops to the carpet. You catch Jungkooks gaze, and you don’t know if you should, but you wish that you’d be wrong,
“Have you-” you swallow, and try to keep composure, “Have you eaten anything since you’ve been discharged?”
He doesn’t answer you but continues to stare. You take a deep breath and continue, “Have you drank anything?”
If Jungkook doesn’t decide to murder you for your betrayal, you’re sure that the silence will. The dark circles and blood-shot eyes encourages you to get to the bottom of this, “Slept?”
You search his eyes for an answer, praying that he’s too stubborn to answer, rather than cavalier enough to try and withhold the truth from breaking your heart further. But he simply stares, no emotion travelling past the deep mahogany eyes.
“You know I can’t sleep without you.” Is the only thing he whispers. He doesn’t break your eye contact, and you wonder, perhaps he truly wants to see your pain, enjoy the way his self-neglectance makes you feel like you’ve failed.
You take another look at his disheveled form, gulp down your emotions and turn to the stairs. “Where are you going?” one single step away from him, makes his voice shake in panic, and you wonder how’d you get to this place.
With a look over your shoulders, “Run you a bath”, Jungkook nods his head in understanding, and silently follows you. You turn to him once he reaches the staircase, unsure if he’s strong enough to climb it.
He pushes your outstretched hand away, and mutters “I can climb the stairs.” You send him an unsure gaze, but his eyes harshly move up the stairs, urging you to go in a silent command.
The house truly looks the same, only difference being the coat of dust over the space. Automatically you go into the master bedroom, even if you haven’t been in this house for years, your body still remember every nook and creaky board.
You expect the bedroom to look the same as well, but the bed is filled with your clothes, as if they were thrown around. You send Jungkook a questioning gaze, but the same void eyes greet you; you wonder if this is how it’s going to be, him looking at you with empty eyes.
It’s funny how the one you love, can be the reason of your anguish. You promised to love one another till your dying bed, but here you are, looking at each other with nothing but hurt and betrayal.
Silently you go into the bathroom and start preparing his bath. When you left, you were sure that was the last time you stepped a foot in this house, you wanted to start over, so you left everything behind.
Even if your past actions were rushed, now you’re thankful for them. Cupboards are filled with oils and bubble bath solutions, you have to take a double look to check the expiration dates, but you sigh in relief, as the gentle smell of lavender and chamomile fills the space.
The smell takes you back to when everything was perfect, ever since you two started dating, bath was a sort of escape from reality. After a stressful day at work, you lit the candles, and drowned in each other’s embrace in midst of bubbles. Spilled wine, kisses on shoulders, laughter, and bubble beards - that was the reality.
You help Jungkook step into the bath, and your breath hitches as you see the full extent of his fragile body; scars from the crash, and skin pressed right against bones, bones so prominent that you’re able to see how his sharp shoulder blades bulge when he moves, every single rib, and back bone.
Now this is the reality.
You pour water over Jungkooks hair, the black strands lightly tickle his shoulders, visibly grown out over the past few years. Surprisingly, he relaxes under your touch, head leaning against the bath while you massage shampoo into his hair.
He’s looking at you, but you try to ignore his gaze, as every time your eyes meet, you’re met with dark circles and red, puffy under eyes. The room falls silent, the only sound being the water trickling from his hair.
Jungkooks shoulders slowly relax under your touch, and you move to massage his neck, careful, observing his body language. But his body only further melts into your arms, and when he sighs, you’re sure you made the right call.
The main reason of your visit escapes your mind, you gathered his answer when he named called Tae, but the possibility of him being involved in the ordeal seems great. You keep in mind to check if there’s any correlation between them.
“When I was under, all I remember are sparks of warmth enveloping me,” you stop your movements and look at his face, how his eyes search the ceiling, as if they hold the truth to his misery, “But then it stopped, and coldness overtook my body. Conscious enough to feel like you’re about to wake up yet suffocating in coldness and loneliness.” He whispers, and your heart clenches at the tears clouding his eyes.
“I think it’s because of you - when you stopped visiting me. I think I felt it.” He tilts his head up to catch your gaze, and you stare at him in silence, no words able to bear the barrier of guilt. At times you’ve caught yourself regretting your decision, heart crying out for your ex-husband, missing his touch, and soothing kisses. But you could never regret meeting Tae, he’s been with you through it all, and you’ll be forever indebted for that.
You caress his cheek, and he looks at you lost in thoughts, but when he pursues his lips, you know somethings weighting his mind. “How did you meet him?” Your fingers freeze and you search his eyes confused, is he actually asking about your husband? No uncontrollable rage behind the words?
But he looks just as lost as you are, but you don’t miss your shot and cautiously murmur, “At the hospital. His mom was admitted, and we leaned on each other for support.” His face scrunches as if your words were physically hurting him.
“I’m so glad I helped you bond over my anguish.” He spits out, and his body tenses. You see the patterns of anger return, and desperately whisper, “Jungkook-”
“Save it.” His tone is final, and his clenched jaw combined with his stiff body should’ve been a warning for you to drop it; but he gave you a small bead of hope that everything might be alright, and you don’t want it to burn out.
“If you’d give him a chance, you’d see that he’s a good man” your words are rushed, and so are his actions. His shoulders move to his ears in disgust, and he jerks his body away from your touch, his back turned to you, “How the fuck can you talk with such ease about your affair?” his voice raises.
“The idea of him touching you disgusts me; do you actually want me to hurt him?” you watch helplessly how he pulls his hair. His voice breaks and body shakes, and you pull him back into your embrace by his shoulders.
Your body leans over the tub, and you back hug him; arms around his shoulders, as he’s pressed against your chest. “How can you do that to me? I love you, and you promised to be mine years ago. Does that mean nothing to you?”
His voice shakes and body sinks deeper under water, face pressed against your arms. You calm your own heart and brush your nose over his hair, smelling the gentle lavender. Water splashes everywhere, your top soaked, but you don’t mind, as you try to ground him.
“I love you with all of my heart,” you murmur against his wet strands, “Never forget that.”
You stay in each other’s embrace for a while; Jungkook cherishes your warmth like never before. Yes, he’s out of the void he’d been stuck in for years, but the feeling he told you about hasn’t faded.
The past week had been excruciating, he was alone in your home, in the place he should’ve felt the safest at. But void overtook his mind, coldness seeped under his skin, and he felt like he’s back in the cage he barely escaped from.
No matter how high he turned on the heating, his body was shivering from cold, and he awaited the day his body would freeze, and the pain would go away. Death seemed like an escape.
He realized this wasn’t his home, not really. His heart wasn’t bound to it, it was bound to you. And the further you were, the tighter the golden strings around his heart pulled, cutting off blood, and leaving him suffocating.
He detests the man who steals your warmth, who stole you from him. He doesn’t understand why you chose a farmer over him. Him, who does everything and beyond to fulfill your dreams, him, who painted the walls your favorite color, and made your forever home from stars that painted the sky golden.
Happiness doesn’t come to those who wait, it comes to those who fight for it. And he will fight for you. Physical alterations have never been his style, but if it comes down to it, he wouldn’t put it past him. But then again, he’s an attorney, and sometimes one has to use his advantage.
Silence is interrupted by a doorbell, slightly startled from the noise, you mutter, “Food must be here”. Before Jungkook manages to disapprove you quickly let go of him, and with a quick peck on top of his head, you’re flying down the stairs.
The moment felt too intimate even for you and moving out of his presence gives you time to collect yourself. You choose to ignore the confused look on the delivery-guys face; at this point you’re used to looking like a mess. Mascara smudged, hair tousled, clothes soaked. You simply smile and gather the bags from his hands.
Goosebumps cover your body due to the wet clothes, and your carry the paper bags away from your body, so they don’t get ruined as well. Jungkook awaits you in the bedroom, clean clothes on his back, and you watch how he gently removes your clothes from the bed and carries them into the walk-in closet.
You put the food down and follow him, the closet is still mostly full, not a single piece of clothing out of its usual habitat. Your fingertips traces over the elegant dresses, so soft to the skin like you’re touching a cloud.
Not so long ago this was your life, formal parties and theatre plays a part of your daily routine. Memory so far yet so tangible. And now you’re married to a farmer, overalls and dungarees is your daily routine. You don’t mind your life, found comfort in the routine of it; yet now, when you’re presented with the life you gave away, you can’t deny that at times you miss it.
“Here,” Jungkook hands you one of his t-shirts, “You must be uncomfortable.” Uncomfortable is an understatement, your skin irritated from the rough fabric, but he gives you his clothes in the midst of a full closet of your own. You bite back a remark and take it, quickly shooing him away to get dressed.
You pull the shirt over your head, all while not taking your eyes off of a particular dress. You take it off of the hanger and a smile graces your lips. This is the dress in which you announced your engagement; the red silk fabric reminds you of the sprinkles of champagne, and happily applauding family members. You take a closer look at the bodice and laugh, the maroon stain where Jungkook accidentally spilt his wine still visible, the day was too happy for you to be mad, you simply laughed it off.
Each of the pieces carry out a significance of your past life; the mahogany off-the shoulders dress for your first gallery exhibition, the elegant romper you wore for Jungkooks bachelors party, because yes, he refused to spend it without you. You’ve to pull yourself away from the memorial of your past, this isn’t real life.
When you come out of the closet, you sit next to Jungkook on the bed, and hand him a tray of soup – probably the best course of action, considering he hasn’t eaten in days. His hands shake around the spoon, his body exhausted from muscle extortion and sleepless days.
You look around the room, picture frames of your college days and wedding decorate the walls. Suddenly you can’t wait to go back to your husband, the overflow of memories overwhelms you.
A certain question keeps bugging you for more than a week now. You didn’t feel comfortable rising it in the hospital, Jeon judging stares left you relentless as it was, but this is Jungkook, you should be able to ask him anything, right? “Do you actually plan on suing the doctors?” you softly mutter as to not startle him with the hot brew in his hands.
He lowers the spoon and ticks his head, “If it wasn’t because of them, we wouldn’t be in this situation. Someone has to pay for it.” You watch how he continues to eat; to a certain extant you understand his stance, what wouldn’t you’ve done couple of years back for him to wake up.
But he wasn’t the one who spent every week crying on doctors’ shoulders, they offered you strength and compassion, and your consciousness spikes of you not being able to offer them the same in time of need.
Jungkook pushes the bowl away from him, and groans, “I can’t eat more. I feel sick.” He didn’t even eat half of the bowl, and you worry how fragile his body is, but you don’t push.
“Will you promise to eat more when you wake up?” he looks at you with a calculative gaze before he focuses on the bedsheets. “You won’t be here?” he emptily snickers “Am I your pity case?”
He still doesn’t understand. You grab his hand, and make him look at you “Jungkook, I love you with all of my heart,” you hope that the fierce look in your eyes confirms that, “But I have also promised to love him,” his face scrunches, and he looks away from you. Jungkook opens his mouth to cut you off, but you draw his head back to you and continue.
“I have signed a document stating that I will love him” you know that’s the last thing he wants to hear, but he has to understand you’re married, and your rightful place is to be besides your husband.
He shakes his head without saying a word, and falls into the pillows, “Like I said, someone has to pay for it.” You watch him and shake your head, he’s great at blaming everyone but you, for your own actions.
You put the food on the table, and climb back in the bed, remembering how hard it’s for him to sleep without you by his side. You draw the comforter over him and lie on your side watching him. He turns to you as well and intertwines your hands.
Neither of you speak, and you wait for Jungkook to close his eyes. But he fights sleep, and a droopy grin paints his expression, imagining him lying in the bed 7 years ago with his wife. But his stubbornness holds no strength to his prominent eye bags, and his eyes slowly close.
Before he falls asleep, he whispers the lone thought eating his consciousness, “If you hadn’t married him, would you stay?”
Out of all the questions he’d asked, this is the easiest one. Without a second thought you whisper, “Always.”, and the last bit of stubbornness leaves his body, his smile increases, and he pulls your hands closer and kisses your knuckles.
His breath evens out and his cheeks form a pout as sleep invades his body. As peaceful as he looks, you can’t stop the unease creeping up your nerves. The view seems hauntingly familiar to his motionless body in the hospital.
You have to stop yourself from waking him up, just to check that the last week hasn’t been a fever dream, and he is, indeed back to life. You force yourself to stay put for a couple of more minutes, trying to prioritize his health over your discomfort.
But you feel uncomfortable leaving him like this, what if he awoke only for a moment, and will never be by your side again? You sit up, ready to quietly leave, but with one last look over your shoulder, you cave in and pinch him.
When he furrows brows from the unexpected sensory you breath out.
You contemplated leaving then and there, but guilt crept up your spine, like you were abandoning a lost puppy. Only in this scenario, the puppy is a grown adult, who’s begging for you to stay.
Standing by the door you take one last look at the apartment and decide you can’t leave it like this. Judging by Jungkooks exhausted state, you have more than enough time to rid this place of the painful reminders coating every inch of it.
You found some gloves in the kitchen and got to work. You didn’t stop till every corner gleamed and spent what little money you had on his groceries. Perhaps you haven’t made the best decisions, but you do care.
~
“He threatened you!” Taehyung looks at you flabbergasted, searching your eyes as to why you’re so careless of it.
You arrived home yesterday evening, and ever since then both of you have been arguing, neither willing to see the others POV. You told him the truth, Jungkooks distaste for Taehyung, his possible involvement in the lawsuit – you were honest and told him everything, and now you’re starting to regret that choice.
You drop your bag on the hallway floor, ready to leave the house and escape to your job, tired of the pointless arguing, “He’s lost, confused, what do you expect from him?” You never know how one might act in stressful situations, his life has turned upside-down; he missed out on most of his twenties – the time when one enjoys themselves, relishes the responsibility free life, and celebrates freedom. Of course, he’s lashing out.
“Not to threaten both of us, that’s for sure.” His words irk you; a sense of defensiveness comes over you, and you bite your cheek trying to calm down, “You don’t know him, he acts threatening, but his soul is gentle, he’d never hurt a fly.”
Taehyungs shoulders drop once he sees your pleading eyes; arguing has never been your pitfall, but these past weeks have been the most stressful of his life. Each muscle in his body is tense, ugly bursts of anger colored with desperation bubble in his chest. There is a reason why he vowed for better and for worse, you’re in this together.
Two letters fall from the doors mail slot and Taehyung bends down to grab them. You watch how he tears one of them open, while simultaneously hands you the other. Your name is printed on it, and you’re left confused when you see courts stamp next to it.
You’re about to open it, but before you manage to, Taehyung curses and you look up and meet his helpless gaze. “They’ve annulled my certificate till the court ends.” You purse your lips, trying to understand what he just said.
You move over to him and read the notice in his hands, “What does that even mean?” you look up and down from him to the letter, scared of the consequences that might entail, “That means hundreds of laid off workers, bankrupt business, and no income whatsoever. What are we supposed to do with court? All of our savings went into compensations, and no one wants to associate themselves with us-”
His words fade out as your gaze shifts to the letter in your own hands, you shoot daggers to it, and forcefully rip it open. Your eyes scan the text, and mutter “Oh my fucking god.”
At this, Tae stops his rambling, and when he notices court papers into your own hands, he nervously asks, “What?” You look up from the notice and clear your throat, “Um-”, you’re not sure where to being, your mind unable to process the information.
“It says that my divorce to Jungkook is annulled, as I have submitted forged documents,” his eyebrows scrunches and he shakes his head confused, “Wait what-”, but you’re not done, and you scan the other notice “And I'm being summoned to court as forgery is a criminal offence.”
“That’s not possible, I saw the doctors give you the documents with my own eyes!” his voice raises, but a particular symbol at the bottom corner of the notice gains your attention. You put both documents together to compare the stamps, and barely audible whisper “No fucking way.”
You snatch the documents from his hands, and when all the stamps match, you call out once more the only sentence your mind can muster, “Oh my fucking god!” You look at Tae in expiration and show the documents in his face.
“Bottom left. Under the prosecutor’s signature. Does the stamp remind you of something?” He takes the papers from your hands, and when he pursues his lips, and takes a double look at them, you know he’s got it.
“Is that…?” with a feigned laugh you finish his sentence, “Jungkooks company.”
You look at each other at a loss of what to do, when he said he had the power – he meant it. But never in million years did you think he would use his status against you, the corrupt ways of the law and one’s upper hand leaves you restless. Worst of all, he wants you to know it, he could’ve used any other company, one you wouldn’t recognize, and played his schemes unbeknownst to your knowledge.
But no, he wants you to know that he’s in power.
Unfortunately, you don’t see another choice but to fold under the pressure; your hands automatically reach for your pockets in search of your phone.
“Where is my phone?” Rushed you mutter, grabbing your purse to look for it there. Instead of answering, he asks, “What do you plan on doing?” Not finding it there you move to the coats rack, not minding if the jackets fall over in haste.
“I have to go to him. There’s no other choice.” Frustrated you sigh, and close to shout, “Where is my damn phone?!”
Taehyung comes up to you, and stops your actions, “Don’t go to him. We can fight this. We’ll take out a loan, and-” you interrupt him, “No one in their right mind will give us a loan. We’re already in debt as it is, you’re jobless, and my wage barely covers food. And now, we're both on trial.”
At that you groan, forgetting one crucial element, “Can you call my boss, I won’t be able to go in today. I still haven’t found my phone!” Taehyung stands silent, and after a while fishes out his phone to follow your command. He’s not able to rebut your words, he knows you’re right.
He puts the call on speaker, and after a couple of beeps your boss answers the phone, “Hi! It’s me. I know it’s a short notice, but something important came up, and I won’t be able to come in today. But I-”
“Save it. You have a week to collect your things, I have no use of a slacking employee. You’re fired.” With that she hangs up, and you’re left speechless looking at the beeping phone. You contemplate all of your life choices, when did life get so hard?
You look at Tae and drop your shoulders, “And now we’re both unemployed.”
He closes his eyes, and you see defeat written across his face when he moves to the windowsill and grabs your phone to hand it you. Quietly you thank him and drop it in your bag. Before you manage to step a foot out of the door, he calls after you, and you turn your head to look at him.
“He’d never hurt a fly, right?” He’s using your words against you, and you hate that he was right. But your blind love for your ex-husband left you fooled, and without a word you step outside.
~
You march down the hallway to Jungkooks apartment, hours you spent alone in your car only fueled your desperation. You didn’t bother calling him, somehow you felt like he knew you’d be there soon.
His door’s unlocked, and that only further proves your point. Not wasting a second, you walk through the apartment, and find him in kitchen cooking. This time he looks collected, hair in ponytail and clothes without a single crease.
He looks up from the cutting board and smiles, “I was wondering when you’d come by. I’m making your favorite, come, sit.” He points to the kitchen island, and you drop your bag on the table and move your hands on your hips.
“Why did you do that?” he washes his hands and looks at you questioningly. “Don’t pretend. You know exactly what I’m talking about.”
He smoothly stirs the sauce in the pan and comforts you, “If you’re worried about the charges – don’t. I can take care of that once you move back in.”
You stare at him incredulous; how can he speak so calmly about it? “I’m worried about being called to court over procedures that aren’t even legal.”
“Submitting forged documents is a valid reason to being called in.” he ever so calmly states, and you feel your blood boil, “Every document I submitted is real. And I’m sure the doctors will testify so.” But he only smiles and shakes his head, and continues to stir the food, while cheekily clarifying, “Will they?”
You consulted five different specialists before proceeding with divorce, of course they’ll testify the same, as their answers broke your heart one after the other years back. You shake your head trying to figure out where he’s coming from, why wouldn’t they-
Till it clicks. “You threatened them. If they don’t comply, you’ll sue them.” Jungkook tilts his head and presses his lips together, “I don’t threaten people. I simply explained their options.”
Your mouth agapes, and you whisper, “This is insane, Jungkook.”
This gathers his attention, and he clicks his tongue and comes closer to you, “You said your affair is the only barrier between us. I got rid of the problem, you should be thanking me.”
“Marriage Jungkook! I’m not having an affair, I’m married.” You raise your voice and hit your chest. He never calls it what it is. A marriage. One you freely chose.
“No, it’s not.” His tone changes, and now you’re both angry. You recognize the deep tone, it’s the one he used in courts, not a single person willing to interrupt his matter-of-fact statements. “You’re lawfully married to me; your surname carries my legacy. Don’t ever compare me to your adultery.”
He might be right, but he seamlessly evades why you’re married to him – how he used his power to tie you to him. “I will fight this.” You bite back.
“Will you though?” you clench your jaw, “Because I don’t see you winning. Are you willing to sacrifice your boy-toy and his whole family for a fight you’ll never be able to win? Their business, which they created generations ago. Go against specialists, who will testify the same statements? Not to mention what resources you have; jobless, without a penny to your heart. Do you think that anyone will employ you, with a criminal record?”
Fighting back tears, you wince out, “How do you know that?” Seeing your glazed eyes, Jungkook stands in front of you, and pats your hair, “You live in a village. Words travel fast.”
Unable to hold it in, you sob, feeling trapped with the burdens of life dragging you down. His words ring through your head, and you know – he’s not a man of who’s words should be taken for granted.
Your sobs increase once you realize – this is not a fight you’ll ever win. He pulls you into his embrace, and you scrunch his shirt in fists, hating him for dragging you into this mess, hating him for getting on that motorcycle years ago, and leaving you all alone. Hating him, for he was the one you promised your heart to – hating him, for not being able to hate him.
He rocks you from side to side, and shushes your cries, “You broke our vows, but I promise to patch them.” He detangles your hand from his shirt, and you don’t notice him pulling your ring off your finger.
The sound of something falling catches your attention, and you see the silver bands lying on the floor. You look up and see him slipping your wedding ring on your finger, the golden ornament shining in the light bright as ever, as if it had never gathered dust in the drawer.
Jungkook kisses your forehead finally satisfied, the golden strings tying you back to your rightful place. Back to him.
“For better or for worse, baby”
~
Hi! Hope you enjoyed this story, as always would love to hear your thoughts on it. And thank you so much for all of the attention preview got, hope it didn’t disappoint ☺️
I haven’t managed to edit it yet, wanted to publish it for all of you, as you’ve been waiting for awhile.
As always, thank you for reading, hope you stick around! 🌻
#bts fanfic#bts fanfiction#yandere bts#bts yandere#jungkook fanfic#jungkook yandere#jungkook x reader#yandere
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
The Diary of Tom Riddle- Diary! Tom Riddle x Reader - P6
pairing: Tom riddle x Fem reader
warnings: Horcruxes, Manipulation, Tom being Tom, side effects of being possessed, bleeding from the nose.
summary: 16-year-old (y/n) finds a mysterious black book on the floor of after it slips out of Ginny Weasleys caldron, curious, she picks it up and keeps it-which leads to one thing after another and discovers the book is far more than it seems.
-Part 1- -Part 2- -Part 3- -Part 4- -Part 5- -Part 7-
=
Harry peeled open the pages of the diary, it was half blank-with loads of notes in the first half-all retaining to the classes that Hogwarts offered. “Defense against the dark arts, Charms, Transfiguration,” Harry muttered under his breath as he flipped through the sections of notes.
It was like looking through Hermione's notes folder-everything sectioned off and dated.
“it’s just a diary being used as a notebook Harry, it’s clearly nothing special,” Ron said as they walked to the hospital wing to see Hermione, who was still recovering from the Polyjuice cat incident.
Harry only hummed in response, for some reason he felt the diary was far more than it seemed-even though all that was written in it was notes and silly doodles. He liked the one of the greasy Snape- even the Slytherin girl this book belonged to didn’t like Snape.
“You should give it back to her Harry, it might not have her name clearly its hers, has her name on the front page and everything.” Hermione said quietly as they visited her in the hospital wing, Hermione tapping the first page that had the Slytherin girls name in ink-right below T.M.Riddle's name that was also written in ink.
“Yeah, but the back says it belongs to Tom Riddle, which Ron says has a trophy about some-great thing he did for the school 50 years ago,” Harry said, Hermione snatching the book from him-grabbing her wand from her bag.
“Then maybe he wrote something down in here about the last time the chamber was opened-“ Hermione said and Harry quickly caught up with what she’d realized, eagerly leaning over her shoulder to watch her tap her wand on the diary thrice. “Aparecium!”
When nothing happened, Hermione huffed, grabbing a red eraser from her bag. “It’s a revealer, I got it in Diagon Alley,” Hermione said when Harry gave her a quizzical look. She rubbed the eraser hard on one of the blank pages, but nothing happened, and Hermione huffed.
“I’m telling you, there’s nothing to find in there,” Ron said, crossing his arms. “Riddle just got a diary for Christmas and couldn’t be bothered to keep it, and that Slytherin girl got it 2nd hand.”
-
Harry couldn’t explain why he hadn’t given the diary/notebook back to the Slytherin girl, even after she’d left the hospital wing, he’d overheard Madam Pomfrey tell her to take it easy as the stress from NEWTS and the chamber had made her body go into overdrive.
Harry thought how the girl looked when he’d found her in the bathroom was far worse than stress-she almost looked like she was dying.
He shook the thought out of his head, remembering the haunting look in the girl’s eyes when she’d looked at him, he looked back down at the diary in his hands, letting the blank pages flutter in his hand.
Earlier-Lockhart had hired all those ‘cupid’ dwarves and one had cornered him, singing a crude poem to him from Ginny Weasley, in the process, his book bag had ripped, and ink had gotten everywhere-including the diary.
And yet, the diary had no trace of ink on it, unlike the rest of his books, instead the only thing that remained was the notes. Harry frowned in thought-opening the diary to a blank page and dipping his quill, letting a blot of ink drop onto the page.
After a moment-it sunk into page-leaving not a trace of ink.
And then-before his very eyes-new words began to appear.
‘(y/n)?’
Harry’s eyes went wide, and he nearly jumped out of his chair to go show Ron and Hermione, but instead dipped his quill again.
“I’m sorry no, my names Harry Potter.”
There was a moment before the response but eventually the neat scrawl of the diary appeared.
‘Hello Harry potter. My name is Tom Riddle, how did you come upon my diary?’
Those words began to fade just as Harry had re-dipped his quill and hurriedly wrote back.
“The girl who had it had a seizure or something, she dropped it and I picked it up,”
His words faded and very quickly Tom wrote back to him-almost hurried.
‘(y/n). is she okay?’
“She is, she just got out of the hospital wing, madam Pomfrey said it was from stress.”
‘Very good. Why are you keeping my diary, Harry Potter?’
“I was wondering if you knew anything about the chamber of secrets?”
-
(y/n) practically tore her room apart, looking for Tom’s diary. “well-when did you last have it?” her roommate/friend asked, watching from her bed concerned as (y/n) flipped over her mattress.
“I don’t know! Uhgh-the bathroom, I think? I got all dizzy n shit and the last thing I remember before passing out as throwing my bag to the floor.” (y/n) huffed, tapping her finger in frustration on her bedpost.
“Maybe it’s still in the bathroom then? It could’ve been washed into one of the stalls with all that flooding from moaning myrtle?” her roommate suggested and (y/n) had to concede she might be right.
God Tom was going to be so pissed at her for letting him stew in toilet water for so many days, she’d have to get him more good ink or something to make up for it.
However, the diary wasn’t there.
“Myrtle?” (y/n) asked gently, looking up at the floating ghost girl, who stared at her. “Did my books happen to be picked up when I fell in here last week?”
Myrtle tilted her head in thought and nodded. “Oh yes, Harry Potter picked up that little black book,” Myrtle said faintly, before going back to moaning and groaning about death. (y/n) thanked her and left the bathroom, looking to find potter to see if he’d kept her/Tom’s diary by accident.
She found him and his friends walking through the courtyard, talking about…the chamber of secrets? “Hagrid opened the chamber of secrets 50 years ago,” Harry said quietly to Ron and Hermione.
“Riddle-” That got (y/n)’s attention, had Harry really kept the diary and written in it? Thank god all of hers and Tom’s conversations didn’t stay in the diary, only keeping the notes he rewrote for her. “-might have the wrong person,” said Hermione. “Maybe is some other monster that was attacking people…”
“How many monsters d’you think this place can hold?” Ron asked rhetorically, (y/n) following close behind, hoping to get the diary back from Potter, she felt weird without it, like something was missing.
Merlin maybe she was getting way too attached to Tom.
“We always knew Hagrid had been expelled,” said Harry miserably, “and the attacks must’ve stopped after Hagrid was kicked out. Otherwise, Riddle wouldn’t have got his award.”
What sort’ve hero stories was the nerd telling the 12-year-olds???
She decided to interrupt their little chat about Tom, the chamber, and Hagrid-wanting the diary back.
“Hello,” she said softly, waving to the three, looking down at them as they froze and turned to face her, though relaxed when they saw it was only her-the girl who had the diary before Harry. “Sorry to interrupt you, but it was brought to my attention that you might still have my notebook? It’s a black leather-bound book with the name Tom Riddle on the back? It has all my notes for the upcoming exams on it and I need it before they start.”
Harry nodded jankily, but didn’t reach into his bag for it. “Uh-yeah, uh, did you know it could write back?” (y/n) tilted her head but nodded.
“Uh, yeah, it’s a personality enchantment, very rare advanced magic.” (y/n) said casually, just wanting the diary back and not to converse with the three for much longer.
“Did he tell you anything about the chamber of secrets?” Harry asked, remembering Riddle's concern for (y/n) and near demands, to be returned to her.
(y/n) shook her head, having never asked. “No, never asked, but he is tutoring me for defense against the dark arts, since Lockhart is… Lockhart.” (y/n) said with a scrunch of her nose and Hermione looked to have half a mind to scold her while the boys just smiled, glad to finally have met a girl who thought Lockhart was just as stupid as they thought he was.
(y/n) just huffed, crossing her arms. “Could I have the diary back? I really do need those notes,” (y/n) asked again and Harry nodded, telling her he was keeping it up in his dorm room and he’d pass it back to her later. She narrowed her eyes a bit, feeling an odd flare of frustration and possessiveness at him for keeping the diary for even longer but pushed it down.
“Thanks,” She said, giving the three a short wave-turning on her heel and heading for her next class.
-
Hours later, almost dinner, she finally got the diary back, Harry handing it back to her-quite reluctantly might she add-but (y/n) didn’t care, clutching the diary close to her side as she thanked Harry and turned to go back to her dorm, moving the diary from her side to her chest.
It felt like a hug as she held it.
She sighed in relief as she stepped into her dorm, pressing her back against the door to close it, letting her head drop to her chest slightly, clutching the diary to her chest.
She really didn’t know why she was attached to the diary/Tom so much, when she didn’t have it/him on hand, it felt…odd, like something important was missing.
(y/n) hopped onto her bed and flipped open the diary, glad to see all the notes Tom had rewritten for her still there. She grabbed her quill and opened her ink well, dipping the tip before pressing it to the page.
“sorry for dropping you in the bathroom :s”
‘(y/n)?’
“yeah, I had some sort of seizure from the stress of the whole, chamber and exams, situation. Got really dizzy and my nose started to bleed really bad, passed out in the second-floor girls' bathroom.”
‘Merlin. Are you okay?’
“I am now, some rest did good for me, Madam Pomfrey told me to keep taking it easy though”
‘I see. No late night chatting with me anymore then.’
(y/n) gasped a bit and sat up, frowning.
“not fair! I like talking to you!”
‘I like talking to you too, but staying up till, merlin knows how late, talking to me isn’t helping your health. So, no more of that until you’re feeling better.’
“fine.”
‘(y/n).’
“I know! Thank you for looking out for me, means a lot. :3”
‘What in Merlin’s beard does :3 mean?’
“it’s a cute smiley face~! :3”
‘Stop it it’s, what’s the word you used? Cringe?’
“hey!”
-
Things finally felt normal again, (y/n) was finally getting some good rest as the months moved from February to May, her DADA tutoring sessions with Tom went pretty well, though once in a while he’d ask if she’d like to have a more-in depth lesson but she always declined, still a little weirded out by the way he could do the whole ‘pull someone into his subspace’ thing.
Plus, last time she’d gotten a nosebleed from the magic strain of it, she didn’t want to have another one.
Since her little-trip-to the hospital wing, the attacks had stopped and everyone else was finally relaxing, the tension finally easing up as the threat of ‘the heir of Slytherin and its monster’ seemed to have its fill and leave.
(y/n) currently was having some trouble with her potions work, her brow furrowed as she looked over her assigned work again and again, but it was just all blurring together in a mesh of nothing. She sighed, dropping her quill and rubbing her face. She needed a break.
She looked down at the diary, seeing she’d gotten a big ink blot on it from dropping her quill, sighing and moving the quill off of it and into the ink well. The ink sunk into the page and Tom’s writing appeared.
‘What was that for?’
“dropped the quill on the page, sorry.”
‘Tired?’
“very, i wanna go take a nap but the quidditch game is today and my friend is no doubt going to drag me off to that and its within the hour, hardly have time to even get up to my room and put my stuff away.”
‘I see.’
‘I could help?’
“how?”
‘If you would allow me, time doesn’t really pass within the diary, you could take a short nap if you wish? I just wouldn’t be able to talk to you for a few days, as I know the last time I pulled you in, it caused immense strain on your magic, and I’d rather avoid that.’
(y/n) hesitated, her quill hovering over the page as Tom’s words faded away.
“you promise it wont hurt me this time?”
‘I promise. Do I have your permission?’
(y/n) looked around the library, glancing at her watch, and then put her quill to the page again.
“you have my permission.”
In the same way as it did the first time, the gutter of the book became a blinding light that seemed to pull her into the diary-and the hands that caught her were even gentler than the first time.
She looked up, seeing the sepia-toned face of Tom Riddle, smirking down at her as he held her steady. She cleared her throat, gently pushing herself up to stand and he chuckled, reaching out his hand to hers. “C’mon, I know a good spot for a nap,” Tom said, and she took his hand, letting him lead her down the diaries Hogwarts halls.
He led her to the Slytherin common room, and she laid down on the big couch that was even comfier than the one in the actual common room, her eyes fluttering closed as a blanket was laid atop her, a cold hand brushing the hair from her face.
-
When she awoke, she was back in the library, sleeping over her books and the diary. She jolted up, checking her watch-only 15 minutes had passed, and yet it felt like she got several hours of sleep. She picked up her quill, writing a quick thank you to Tom before she packed everything up and rushed to her dorm room to change for the quidditch match.
As she went to leave the common room to go to the quidditch match-everyone suddenly crowded in, all looking worried. “What happened?” (y/n) asked her friend who quickly took her by the hand to sit down by the fireplace.
“There was another attack,” her friend whispered and (y/n)’s heart stuttered in her chest, her eyes widening.
“What? Where?” (y/n) gasped, her mouth gaped open.
“The library,”
(y/n)’s heart dropped to her stomach, her hand covering her mouth. She’d just been in the library! Had the attack happened while she was there? Or after she left?? But she was just there!?
“I was just there,” she whispered and (y/n)’s friend frowned, a horrified look growing on her face.
“Oh my god-did you see the petrified students?” (y/n) shook her friend in response, clutching at her stomach as the feeling of missed danger passed over her.
“No, I didn’t, i-I fell asleep while studying,” (y/n) said, which wasn’t a total lie, her face growing paler as she realized how close to danger she’d been, what if the monster had attacked her? How close had the monster been? Had it attacked while she’d been with Tom? Or right after she left?
Snape, the head of Slytherin house, walked through the portrait doorway, holding a scroll in his hands. “Attention, all of you.” Snape said, sounding drearier and more serious than normal. That was freaky, since Snape never panicked about anything. “Due to the recent events, these new rules will be effective immediately. All students will return to their house common rooms by six o’clock every evening. No student is to leave the common rooms after that time. You will be escorted to each lesson by a teacher. No student is to use the bathroom unaccompanied by a teacher. All further quidditch training and matches are to be postponed. There will be no more evening activities.”
Many of the students groaned at the very restricting rules. “But no Slytherins have been attacked!” Draco Malfoy complained, and Snape silenced him with a glare.
“We will not be taking those risks, Mr. Malfoy. Any breaking of these rules and you will find yourself back in London before you can even whine.” Snape drawled, pinning the scroll to the common room info board. “And I should tell you, unless the perpetrator behind these attacks is caught, it is likely the school will close.”
With a flare of his robes, Snape dramatically left the Slytherin common room, locking it behind him. Everyone looked at each other, wary that one of them might be the heir of Slytherin-the reason behind the attacks. It was a running joke that Harry Potter was the heir, due to his parseltongue ability, but that’s all it was-a joke.
(y/n), however, was mentally panicking, remembering that odd dream from months ago, remembering herself speaking parseltongue. But she’d also overheard Potter and his friends talking about how Tom told them that Hagrid was the one accused of opening the chamber last time.
And she couldn’t ask Tom to confirm that right now, as he was going to take a rest due to him using his limited magic to keep her from straining her own magic while he kept her in his subspace. She sighed heavily, rubbing her face.
The attack, the double attack, had happened while she’d been in the library, the library was where the attack had happened-and most likely while she’d been asleep.
What if…what if she was the culprit? What if she, unknowingly, was the heir of Slytherin somehow and had been doing things while unconscious?
Merlin that was a terrifying what-if.
She was muggle-born, that was true, but muggleborns had to have some sort of magical lineage in their blood, what if…what if the witch/wizard in her bloodline had been a descendant of Salazar?
Fuck she hoped not.
God, she wished she could talk to Tom right now, he always knew what to say to calm her down when she was spiraling.
Hours later, it was announced Dumbledore had been suspended by the school board and Hagrid had been arrested and sent to Azkaban.
Fuck.
-end of part 6-
man im on a rolllll taglist!
@dracosslxt4eva @dream-your-own-way @slaggylemon
@slytherinbackintomyroom @starryhiraeth @larallott
@kayytt-2 @chimchoom @joyfulnightmare-hq
@theicypiscean
#tom riddle x reader#tom riddle#tom riddle imagine#harry potter fanfiction#Diary Tom Riddle#chamber of secrets
186 notes
·
View notes
Text
𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐢𝐞 𝐖𝐞 𝐋𝐢𝐯𝐞 [𝐀𝐥𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐚 𝐃. 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫]
❀ summary: You’ve fallen hard for Alcina Dimitrescu, the alluring CEO of a rival company—completely unaware of her plan to use you to gather information on your father’s business. What began as manipulation slowly turned into love, but when the truth comes out, will Alcina be able to win you back, or is it already too late?
❀ time to take this want out the vault, originally a carol aird one but we love ceo alcina, let me know if y'all want part two<3
❀ part two
The city lights flicker through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Alcina’s penthouse as you stand by the edge, staring out at the sprawling skyline. The night air is cool, and yet your skin feels like it’s burning under her gaze. You don’t have to turn around to know that she’s watching you—her presence is magnetic, a force you can feel even when she’s standing across the room.
You’ve always wondered how she does it—how Alcina Dimitrescu commands a room with nothing more than a look. And somehow, she’s chosen you. From the moment she walked into your life, her power was intoxicating, pulling you in like a moth to a flame.
A soft sound of footsteps draws nearer, and you feel the heat of her body behind you before she even touches you. Her breath is warm against your neck as she leans down, her lips brushing the shell of your ear.
“You’re quiet tonight,” she murmurs, her voice low, sultry. “What’s on your mind, darling?”
You close your eyes, letting the sound of her voice wash over you. “Just thinking about how everything’s changed so quickly.” You turn your head slightly, meeting her gaze. Her golden eyes are intense, full of a desire that sets your heart racing.
Alcina smiles, a slow, deliberate curve of her lips. “Change isn’t always a bad thing.”
You nod, though the depth of your feelings for her scares you. You hadn’t expected to fall so hard, so fast. But from the first moment you met her—at that high-profile charity gala where your father introduced you to half of the city’s elite—she’d captivated you. She was mysterious, powerful, unlike anyone you’d ever met.
You couldn’t resist her.
Now, with her standing so close, the scent of her perfume lingering in the air, you feel the pull again, stronger than ever. You feel the need for her, a deep ache that you can’t explain.
Alcina’s hand grazes your arm, her fingers tracing the skin there, and you shiver under her touch. She steps closer, her body pressing against yours, the cool fabric of her tailored suit a contrast to the heat building between you. Her lips ghost over your neck, and you bite your lip to keep from making a sound.
“You’re trembling,” she whispers, her voice dark and full of promise. “Are you afraid of me?”
You let out a shaky breath, leaning back into her touch. “No,” you say, though your voice wavers. “I’m not afraid of you.”
You can feel her smile against your skin, her lips teasingly close. “Good,” she purrs, “because I would never hurt you, darling.”
She kisses the soft spot behind your ear, and you feel your knees weaken, your body responding to her in ways you can’t control. You want her—there’s no denying it. The way her touch ignites something deep within you, the way her voice makes your pulse race. It’s addictive.
Her hands trail down your sides, slow, deliberate, as if she’s savoring the feel of you beneath her fingers. And then, with a firm yet gentle touch, she turns you to face her.
You look up at her, your breath catching in your throat. The intensity in her eyes is almost overwhelming, but you don’t want to look away. There’s something raw in the way she looks at you, something vulnerable beneath the surface of her powerful exterior.
Alcina’s hand moves to cup your cheek, her thumb brushing over your lower lip. “I want to make you feel good,” she murmurs, her voice low, intimate. “Will you let me?”
Your breath hitches, and all you can do is nod. You’re completely under her spell.
Her lips crash against yours, and it’s like fire—hot, intense, consuming. The kiss is full of passion, her hands gripping your waist, pulling you flush against her. You can feel the strength in her arms, the way she holds you as if she’s afraid to let go.
You kiss her back just as fiercely, your fingers tangling in her hair, pulling her closer. You’ve never wanted anyone the way you want her right now.
Alcina’s hands move to your back, sliding down to your hips, and she lifts you effortlessly, carrying you over to the plush couch in the center of the room. She lays you down gently, her body hovering over yours as she looks down at you, her eyes dark with desire.
“You’re so beautiful,” she breathes, her hand sliding up your thigh, pushing the fabric of your dress higher. “Do you know that?”
You can’t find the words to respond, so you just pull her down to you, crashing your lips against hers once more. The world outside disappears—there’s nothing but you and Alcina, the heat of her body, the way her touch sets your skin on fire.
Her kisses move to your neck, then lower, trailing down your collarbone as she takes her time exploring every inch of you. Her hands are firm, possessive, yet there’s a tenderness in the way she touches you that makes your heart ache.
It feels like she’s worshipping you, like she’s pouring everything into this moment. And you can’t help but surrender to her, completely and utterly.
You’ve never felt this kind of intensity before—this longing, this need. It’s like she’s consumed you, and you don’t want it to stop.
But as Alcina’s lips move lower, pressing soft kisses to your stomach, there’s a nagging thought in the back of your mind, something you’ve been trying to ignore. You know so little about her—about her world, her life outside of these moments you share. And it’s strange, isn’t it? That someone so powerful, so enigmatic, would want you?
You push the thought away, focusing instead on the way she’s making you feel—the way her touch drives you wild, the way she whispers your name like it’s the only thing that matters.
But somewhere deep down, the seed of doubt is planted.
In the quiet moments after, as you lie tangled in each other’s arms, your head resting on her chest, Alcina strokes your hair softly. Her fingers trail down your back in soothing patterns, but there’s a tension in her body that you don’t understand.
“What are you thinking about?” you ask, your voice soft in the dim light.
There’s a pause, just long enough to make you wonder if she’ll answer.
“I’m thinking about how much I’ve come to care for you,” she says finally, her voice barely above a whisper.
“More than I ever expected.”
Your heart swells at her words, but before you can respond, Alcina presses a kiss to your forehead and pulls you closer, as if she’s trying to shield you from something you can’t see.
And for now, you let her.
You sink deeper into her embrace, feeling the warmth of Alcina's body against yours, her heartbeat slow and steady beneath your ear. It's the first time she's said anything like that—admitting her feelings so plainly, even if her words are wrapped in mystery.
Your chest tightens, unsure of how to respond. There’s a quiet vulnerability in the air that feels foreign for someone like Alcina—someone so poised, so untouchable. For all her confidence and power, there's something in the way she holds you tonight that feels like she's clinging to more than just your body.
“I care about you too,” you whisper, your voice sounding smaller than you'd intended. “More than I expected, honestly.”
You feel her stiffen ever so slightly, as if she wasn’t expecting you to say it back, but she doesn’t respond. Instead, she continues to stroke your hair, her silence both soothing and unnerving.
Minutes pass like this, the quiet between you growing heavier. You want to ask more—to understand this woman who’s slowly become the center of your world. But every time you open your mouth to speak, the questions get caught in your throat. You don’t want to break the fragile intimacy between you, not when everything feels so perfect… yet so delicate.
Still, that nagging thought returns, like a quiet hum in the back of your mind. You know so little about her. Her life outside of these secret moments is a mystery. And that mystery is starting to weigh on you.
“Alcina,” you say softly, tilting your head to look up at her. Her golden eyes meet yours, and for a moment, you see something there—something raw, almost like guilt. But then it’s gone, replaced with her usual composed expression.
“Yes, darling?” Her voice is smooth, but there’s an edge to it, like she’s bracing herself for what you might say next.
You hesitate, the words hanging on the tip of your tongue. You’ve never been good at hiding your curiosity, and tonight is no different.
“Why don’t you ever talk about your work?" The question seems innocent enough, but the moment it leaves your lips, you can feel the shift in the air. Alcina’s body tenses beneath you, and her hand pauses in your hair.
She’s quiet for a beat too long, and when she finally speaks, her tone is measured. “Business is... complicated. I’d rather not burden you with it.”
You bite your lip, unsure if you should push further. But something about her answer feels off, too rehearsed. You sit up slightly, propping yourself up on one elbow as you look at her, trying to read her expression.
“I don’t mind hearing about it,” you say gently. “I want to know more about you, about your life. You’ve been such a big part of mine lately, but I feel like I still don’t know much about you.”
Alcina’s eyes darken, and for a moment, you see the cracks in her perfect facade. She looks away, her jaw tight. “It’s better that you don’t,” she mutters, almost as if to herself.
That response only makes your heart race faster—because now, you know something’s wrong. Something bigger than she’s letting on.
“What do you mean?” you ask, your voice soft but firm. “Why shouldn’t I know?”
Alcina exhales, sitting up and running a hand through her dark hair. Her expression is unreadable, but you can feel the tension radiating off her in waves. It’s like she’s battling something within herself, something she can’t—or won’t—share with you.
“Because once you know the truth,” she says slowly, her voice low and heavy with something like regret, “things won’t be the same between us.”
Your heart drops at her words. “What truth? Alcina, you’re scaring me.”
She looks at you then, really looks at you, and for a moment, you see everything in her eyes—fear, guilt, longing. It hits you like a wave, the weight of it almost knocking the breath from your lungs.
“I never wanted it to be like this,” she whispers, her voice cracking at the edges. “But I’m not just some woman you met at a gala. There are things you don’t know, things I’ve kept from you.”
You feel a pit forming in your stomach, but you force yourself to ask, even though part of you is terrified of the answer. “What things?”
Alcina stands, towering over you with a look of torment in her eyes. She paces for a moment, running a hand through her hair again, as if trying to figure out how to say what she’s about to say.
“There’s a reason I’ve been so close to you,” she says finally, her voice tight. “It didn’t start because of some chance encounter at a gala. I sought you out. I’ve been... using you.”
The words hit you like a physical blow, and for a moment, the room seems to spin. You stare at her, trying to make sense of what she’s saying, but it doesn’t add up. It can’t. Not after everything.
“Using me?” you repeat, your voice trembling. “For what?”
Alcina closes her eyes, as if the weight of her confession is too much to bear. “For information. Your father—his company. Dimitrescu Enterprises and his corporation are... rivals. I needed leverage, and I thought I could get close to you, seduce you, and...”
She trails off, unable to finish the sentence. You don’t need her to.
Your mind reels as the realization crashes over you. The private dinners, the late-night conversations, the way she always seemed so interested in the details of your life, your family. It wasn’t love—it was manipulation. A calculated move to get to your father, to destroy his business from the inside.
You push the blanket off, sitting up fully, feeling like the walls of the room are closing in on you. “You... you’ve been lying to me this whole time?”
Alcina’s eyes snap open, and the pain in them is undeniable. “It started that way,” she says quickly, stepping closer. “But then I fell for you. I didn’t expect it, I didn’t want it, but I couldn’t stop myself. This—what we have—it’s real. You have to believe me.”
You shake your head, backing away from her as tears prick your eyes. “How am I supposed to believe anything you say now? You’ve been using me, Alcina. All of this—” you gesture to the room, to the bed, to the moments you shared— “it was just part of your plan.”
“No,” she says, her voice breaking. “It’s more than that now. I swear to you, I never meant to hurt you. I fell in love with you, and that wasn’t part of the plan. You have to believe me.”
But the weight of her betrayal is crushing, and the walls of the penthouse, once a sanctuary, now feel like a prison. You can’t breathe. You can’t think.
“I... I need to go,” you whisper, grabbing your clothes, your hands trembling as you dress.
“Please,” Alcina begs, her voice desperate. “Don’t leave. I can explain everything.”
But you can’t listen to her right now. You can’t look at her, can’t see the woman you thought you loved standing there with so much guilt in her eyes.
Without another word, you turn and rush out of the room, the sound of Alcina calling your name echoing in your ears as you disappear into the night.
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
⟢﹒requests are open (but don't expect much since I'm just coming back to writing, hope you enjoyed this<3)
#alcina dimitrescu x reader#alcina dimitrescu#re8 alcina#resident evil alcina#alcina x y/n#alcina x female reader#alternate universe#resident evil#ceo#fanfic#gay for alcina
233 notes
·
View notes
Text
Her Favorite
[DOM! G!P Jennie x SUB! fem! reader]
[!SMUT!] & [FLUFF]
Summary: You and your older sister Nayeon went to Jennies penthouse to do a project together planning an all nighter to finish it, not knowing that you and Jennie will be up all night for a different reason...
Word count: 3.9k
(°=°): Been waiting to publish thiss, a pretty long read. I'm excited for what's about to come out for you guys. Enjoy (°3°)!
"God... You make me go insane Y/n"
(°=°)
7:06 PM
You and your older sister; Nayeon arrived at her best friends luxurious penthouse where the entire floor of her place is empty due to her renting it all for less inconvenience and hussle from other people. Which is where you didn't get her logic, why would she buy a penthouse if she didn't want to socialize in the first place?
Nayeon said it's nothing deep because she's rich and can do what ever she wants. Which you agree, she can do what ever she wants. Although it really did make you curious about the older girl. She seems to have so many mysteries, she has an appearance of an angel. Mellifluous voice to manipulate, her sexy body to seduce, and her sweet and rich smell to get you hooked of her presence immediately.
She's Kim Jennie, THE IT GIRL of her and Nayeons university, where is to which you wonder how she still doesn't have a boyfriend to spend some time on. By her looks alone, she could get anyone she wants. Al though, from what you've heard from Nayeons other classmates, she isn't really... The nicest girl, she is cold with both her looks and personality. Not wanting to do anything with other people that she doesn't find important.
Nayeon is her bff ever since childhood and so, you got to know her when the older girls were in highschool. Ever since then she grew fond of you, she nicknamed you baby since you were the maknae(youngest) of the house, but in general, she calls you every sweet names there is in the world.
And so in return, you nicknamed her Nini, it was simple yet cute at the same time. But as you grew older, you can't help but fall for the older girl, she's so sweet, so caring, so gentle, and so kind to you. It's like she feels the same way as you. But of course, you can't get ahead of yourself.
A knock was made by your sister while you wave at the cctv door. Feeling a little nervous, hoping that no one else was taking Jennies time. Sounds selfish but you wanted Jennies pampering to you only. She always asks how your day was going, if you've eaten yet, if you're comfortable, if you're having fun, if you're hungry, and if you need her. She felt like another older sister to rely on and yet you have completely fallen for her. But everyone has skeletons in their closets, and this night is where you discover your Nini's.
"Behave alright? Me and your Nini have to do a project together. Don't make her angry okay?" Nayeon reminded with a serious tone, her pretty round eyes shining with the light of the fancy wall lamp. She explained in the past how Jennie can get... Aggressive when angry but you've never made her nor seen her angry before have you? Recalling all your times together. She was just loving, sweet, clingy, and touchy to you. Whenever you acted a little bratty she never sounded irritated nor annoyed, so you've yet to see her in a scary state.
"I know, I already told you that I'd be okay alone at home. I don't want to bother you guys" You explained feeling a little guilty to be a nuisance to the older girls you look up to the most. Nayeon smiles and soon showed her adorable bunny tooth, her hand coming up to pet your head. You were used to such demeanor, being the youngest and having such lovable and charming charisma it's hard not to like you.
"Come on you big baby, I know you'd get bored when I'm not at the house. Besides I have to watch you just in case you do something stupid" The older girl laughed messing up your hair a little bit. You pout at her words, fixing your hair you soon huffed. "I'm old enough to be responsible unnie..." , Sulking at your older sisters tease. She apologize and quickly reasoned that her and jennie will need a stress reliever for the difficult project that was assigned to them. You hummed in response still pouting. And then finally, the door opened revealing Jennie with her luscious hair, sharp yet feminine features, and her full cherry lips looking kissable as ever. You soon looked at her outfit for the night. Short black cycling shorts letting her milky white legs get exposed and a pink cardigan over a white spaghetti strap making her breast look more defined. You slightly blush at such a majestic sight, stomach filled with butterflies. Her eyes met yours and she immediately broke a smile, her face growing soft.
"Hey guys... Sorry for the long wait, I was preparing for our little girls night in" She apologized and quickly opened the door for the both of you. Nayeon shook her head and said that it was okay since it was her home in the first place. She hugged her best friend tightly and with a big gummy smile. Thinking to yourself;
'How can someone be this beautiful?' Waiting for your turn for a welcoming hug, one the greetings you look forward with her the most. The two separated as she then hugged you, seemingly tighter than Nayeon. Hugging her back you can't help but notice her inhaling your scent, making you shiver a little. She snuggled at your neck and sighed. "So warm..." She whispered to only you can hear. Your cheeks immediately turning red.
"Come on you two we need to start so we could finish early" Nayeon chuckled, leading to you and Jennie to break the perfect hug. She grinned at you as Nayeon looked away, making you flustered. She came closer to you while walking towards the big living room.
"I missed you cutie, let's have fun tonight okay?" Jennie whispered while caressing your hand. Heart almost exploding, you nodded with excitement. Fantasizing the bonding you two will make for the night.
(°=°)
2:39 AM
The evening went well, with the two older girls spilling some unsaid tea together from their university, snacks being laid out on the glass coffee table that's mostly your favorite since they knew you were going to get bored, and rants about how the project was so hard and their professor didn't even teach how to accomplish it.
Jennies clinginess was never weird to you, infact you were delighted at the thought of the mean girl of the university had a soft spot for you. And of course making your little crush for her go insane when you two make physical contact. You eyed the bowl only half full of macaroons, you take one. Taking the cute pink macaron with your two fingers, you analyze its soft bread and smooth cream, you wonder if Jennie bought it or baked it herself. The older girl with feline eyes was clinging on to you for dear life, laptop on the table, comforter covering the both of your lower body, Jennies smooth legs intertwined with yours and sometimes rubbing them on your thighs making you shiver a bit, her body leaning towards you and her hands roaming on you upper body part, mostly on your tummy and smooth arms when she takes her breaks.
"Nini, did you bake this on your own?" You asked, referring to the cute macaroon between your fingers, she looked at your small hands and brushed her palm on your exposed thigh.
"I didn't baby, I bought it from a bakery down the street, do you want me to make those for you?" She asked softly, her hands going deeper to your inner thigh almost caressing your clit. Your legs twitched and slightly tightened at the sudden contact. She kept rubbing your inner thighs while making eye contact making your stomach bubble up and your pussy to get wet.
"N-nini..." You whimpered out nudely as she started to brush on your clit that's growing more hungry for her touch. She hummed and gets more bold, fingers running a cross your core leaving you to moan. She came closer to your ear,
"Answer my question baby. Don't make me wait" She said sternly, her fingers still in between you thighs while your pussy was throbbing for her. You look at the door of the room where your sister was sleeping soundly in since she really couldn't take the all nighter. It was shut tight and knowing Nayeon, she's a heavy sleeper. This was Jennies perfect time to make you hers and hers only.
"Y-yes...please make me a-ah!" You squealed as she put more pressure on your core. Tears rolling down your cheeks from the pain of needing pleasure. She licked your tears on your cheek and slowly kissed your lips. Her lips being soft and wet while putting her hands on your shoulder pushing you down on the couch and she put her knee in between you thighs for some friction. Still making out, your legs shook with the uneasy feeling. You always wanted to this with her but, does this mean your Nini loves you back? With the thought in your mind, she then kissed your pretty neck, leaving traces of her rosy lipstick and her hands groping your boobs. Your mind started to circuit as you didn't know what to do, your pussy won't stop throbbing and your needs for Jennie were just growing. Another moan left your mouth, Jennie standing up as she kept your head up to only letting your eyes go on her, no where else.
"Nini what are you doing..." You whispered with flushed cheeks. She sat between your legs but still a little taller. Looking up, you saw lust and hunger in her eyes, at this point you would do anything for her, even if it means losing your virginity to her. She reached for your hand and lead it up to her big breast letting you really feel her, she moans and cups your cheeks with one of her free hand. This turned you on even more, the pain growing sharply in your core.
"Fuck... like it baby? Want to feel your Nini more?" She asked with the most flirtatious smirk, you eagerly nodded basically moaning at the thought of being able to touch her. She made you rest on your back on the couch and took off her bra. Having full view of her glorious breast, you hesitated to touch them, looking at the older girl for consent. She chuckled and caressed your cheek once more.
"It's okay baby, come on. Touch your Nini, make me feel good..." She reassured, you felt like you were in a trance, Jennie looked like an absolute goddess on top of you. You started to fundle her boobs and flicked her nipples making her moan lowly. Jennies praises wasn't helping the still growing sensation from your pussy. Jennie lowered her body more and you immediately take her boob into your mouth. Sucking on her hard nipples while playing with her other boob.
"... Ah-ah, Yes baby, you know how to make me needy so bad..." Jennie whispered, rolling her eyes in the top her head. Her thick cock throbbing for your cunt. She's been fantasizing about you for years, fucking you in her pent house, in the university, in your own house when Nayeon is home so there's a thrill! She was obsessed with you, she wants to fuck you until all her cum is in your womb.
You felt hot at the praise, not being able to hold the pain, you stopped and looked up at Jennie with tearful eyes. String of saliva connecting your lips and her soft breast.
"Nini... It hurts...down there" You said as the tears rolled down with the blush never going away. Being this vulnerable was rare, but you can't take it anymore. Jennie was in awe, her baby was as needy as her. She then smirked and sat up, her cock visible in her cycling shorts. Rubbing her cock up and down getting excited by your tearful expression. Even when her dick was clothed, she still looked so big and thick, you didn't know if you could take all of her.
"Want me baby? Want me to make you cum until your legs are shaking?" She asked as she took of her shorts leaving her large cock to sprung out, standing on all its glory. It was so veiny with the tip having a cute shade of pink. But you can't help but feel nervous at her size. Your mouth was agape while panting, not realizing to yourself that you were drooling. Which Jennie found adorable, leaning down and licking your saliva on the corner of your lips.
"So cute... Ah, I just want to fuck you senselessly" She whispered, shivering from her dick making contact to your stomach, her pre cum visible. Gulping at the sight, you reached up and hugged Jennies neck, kissing her deeply. You could feel jennies grin in the kiss, her hands automatically going to your breast. She tasted like addicting cherries, probably from her chapstick, her tongue beating you over dominance making you moan into the kiss.
Jennie pulled away, making you whine at the fast end of the kiss. Saliva drooling on the sides of you mouth.
"Ni...ni..." You whined with a pleading face, this only made jennie more excited, she wanted you to plead for her every sign of affection. She made your mouth open with her soft finger tips and fingered your mouth with two fingers mixing you gag a little. She brushed on your tongue feeling weird but good at the same time. She then spat in your mouth making her own saliva on your tongue while still fingering your mouth.
"Swallow" Jennie ordered with her fingers still in your mouth, you immediately obliged, mouth closing in her fingers while swallowing her and your own saliva, shivering at her finger rubbing on your tongue. She gently pulled out and licked her entire fingers clean. Smirk forming on her lips while looking at your shocked and flustered face.
"Good job baby... you're such a good girl for your nini. I think it's time for your reward..." She licked her lips, going down to your clothed cunt. You were wearing a cute tennis skirt, one of Jennies favorite skirt for you to wear. She pushed the skirt to the side and licked your pussy with still your panties on. Flinching at the sudden sensation you put your hand on her hand and whimpered. Jennies cock growing impatient, she then sucked on your pussy finally getting a taste of you.
"A-ah nini!" You were so sensitive, anything can make you cum at this point, Jennie then took your skirt and panties off. As much as she loves that tennis skirt. She loves the thought of fucking you for the first time naked more, having the view of you perfect body all to herself more. Sitting up, she started to stroke herself as she asked if she could undress your upper part. You nodded, feeling a little bit embarrassed, but to jennie, she saw you as her perfect Y/n, your body having perfect curves that she longed to see, messy hair spread along the couch as a few strands was on your shoulder and arms, lips a little swollen from the make out session, and your eyes filled with tears from the pleasure and pain from the long anticipation.
Her cock can't help but twitch at the most beautiful sight. She bit her lip,
"Fuck... So pretty baby. I can't wait anymore..." She moaned hungrily, going down to your cunt and started eating you out with full passion and desire. You moaned out her name loudly, spreading your legs more for her to get more access. She then entered one finger in your pussy while still sucking on your clit. making you lose your senses. For waiting for such a long time, your sensitive bud can't help but cum fast.
"Please...god nini I-i can't" You stuttered, clawing at her hair and legs squeezing her head together, signaling her that you're about to finish. She raised her hand and intertwined it with yours once more, as she entered another finger and fastened her pace, curling her fingers, making you lean over the edge. Cumming all over her face while not being able to control your loud moans. Hips bucking, legs shaking, tears forming, and mouth drooling from such orgasm.
The sweat on your body, shining perfectly to make you glow. Hand covering your mouth while panting, trying to catch your breath.
"So good baby, good job..." Jennie whispered while drawing circle on your pretty stomach. Making you shiver, your eyes closing and feeling Jennies touch all over your body.
"Think you can take me now baby?" She asked positioning her tip to only brush on your entrance teasingly. You don't think you can, but you'll try for your Jennie. However, something dawned you, before saying anything you thought of what will happen tomorrow morning and how your relationship will change in the future. More over, what's your relationship right now? Are you still friends?, lovers?, flings?, fuck bodies?! You start to panic, you love the older girl so much, but you don't want to be connected through just hot sex. And you definitely don't want to act like this never happened tomorrow. And then another hard thought hit you right in the heart, what if she distance herself from you? Feeling uncomfortable or even disgusted on what will happen if you continue. You started to cry and gently pushed Jennie off with a pained expression.
The feline eyed girl immediately sensed something was wrong. She thought you wanted it as much as she did. So what's wrong with her Y/n? "Love what's wrong? Are you not ready? Uncomfortable, feeling sick? What is is?" She asked so gently, you cant help but cry even more feeling guilty for denying her release. You shook your head avoiding eye contact while attempting to stand up and leave the couch, but your wonky and sensitive legs weren't helping. Jennie immediately stood up to help you from behind as support.
"I-i gotta go..." You whispered while snuffling, head down with still shaking legs with Jennie's arms wrapped around your hips trying to help you stand up without your legs giving out. Jennies eyes widened, she can't let you leave just like that, she will do everything for you to be hers and for her to be yours. "I don't get it love what's wrong please... I can't live a day with the thought of me doing something wrong to you, please... Talk to me my girl" Her voice trembled with the fear of losing you, she rested her head on your shoulder with her lips making contact with your soft skin. You stayed silent, not wanting to sound entitled of her feelings. Who were you for Jennie to love back right? A long wait of silence that felt like an eternity passed, you felt sudden wet and warm tears on your shoulder. Jennie was crying, biting her lips and tightening her hug on you, she can't let the girl of her dreams get away.
"Please..." She pleaded shutting her eyes tight letting her tears flow down even more. You can't do it anymore, your heart can't ache this much for the person you loved the most.
"I love you nini... I love you s-so much, I'm scared that if we do this... everything will change. I want to be your lover. Not just someone who can pleasure you...." You confessed, voice cracking from such pain and sadness you were in. Your heart beating so fast to the point where you can hear every single pump of blood it made.
"Who said I didn't love you?" Jennie asked in you ear, her hand intertwining with yours. She then gently made you face her, seeing her all messy and tearful, it made you feel guilty.
"My Y/n, I love you so much... Maybe a little too much. So never assume that my love for you has limits" She reassured you, your mouth quivering from such heart warming words." So please Y/n, let me declare my love to you, and make you mine and only mine" She promised with determine eyes and lips. The butterflies again reappearing in your stomach. You can't lose anything at this point, and you trust her so much. The feeling of desire of her got back. Smiling, you nodded.
"Please... Please show me how much you love me Nini..." And that was enough to set Jennie off. Taking your hand once more, and she took you to her master bedroom. Pushing you down on the soft comforter you can't help but smile knowing that you both love each other so much. Remembering Jennies words and how much she would do anything for you. "Ready my love?" She asked, rubbing on your bud for you to be more wet. You nodded with a smile and kissed her lips.
"I love you my Nini" you whispered and with those words, she felt eager for you to cum. "I love you more baby" She declared with such a soft voice. She entered inside you, slow and gentle since she knew this was all new to you. Arching your back at her size you close your eyes while grinding on you teeth. "You okay baby?" She asked still trying to make you comfortable with her hand on you cheek. You nodded, the feeling of excitement started as Jennie was almost completely in. Her cock stretching you out on all the right places. You were about to go insane! Whimpering with all the pleasure and pain at the same time, Jennie was breathing heavily. She can't help it, you felt so tight and warm she just wanted to ram inside you hard. You soon noticed Jennie who was frozen in place fighting the urge to thrust in you in the most hardest way possible.
"It's okay Nini... please take me as you like" You smile reassuringly, as long as Jennie was happy you we happy. She Lowered her body and soon kissed your ear while slowly thrusting, hands roaming around your body. "Thank you so much baby, just tell me when to stop..." She whispered all so lovingly, the room starting to get filled with moans and nude sounds from the fastening pace of Jennies hips. Her cock hitting all the amazing spots that leads to your orgasm.
You hear Jennie curse under her breath as she sat up still fucking you hard, bed dancing along her pace. "So fucking pretty baby... My Y/n..." She groaned going even more faster, acting like this is the last time she can fuck you. Your eyes watering again for the hundredth time this night, you whimpers grew louder with the pleasure Jennie was giving you. The familiar feeling forming in you stomach.
"A-ah Nini wait... I'm.." You rambled not being able to finish your sentence as you kept you focus on your coming orgasm with Jennie going even more harder giving emphasis in her thrusts with an amazing rythm. Hands gripping on the sheets with an arc back, you came with angelic moans that sent Jennie over the edge as well, with her cum painting your walls and inside your womb. But still not stopping, she kept thrusting with stuttering hips from her climax. "W-wait unnie I can't!" You got taken a back, your pussy was so sensitive and it only hugged jennies cock more with her warm cum still inside you. She didn't even get limp, in fact you think she only got harder from the orgasm. Still going with a fast pace that the room was echoing with full skin slapping and moaning from the both of you, you felt like fainting, you were getting too overstimulated but god did it feel amazing.
An unfamiliar feeling formed in your stomach, from too much pleasure you felt like something was coming but this time, much more intense. "Unnie I-I ah-!" You moaned while she thrusted even faster and harder making sure to pleasure you. You soon whimpered out while squirting all over jennie. Your hips bucking and stuttering while Jennie got more hungry to cum in you. "God baby you squirted? So good.... Fuck more baby do it again for me?" She asked and when you thought she couldn't fuck you more hard and good, she did! Abusing your already tired cunt out to its limits. Your moans grew louder and louder with the tears rolling down your cheeks none stop. Jennie wanted more, she wanted you to feel insane with the sensation, putting pressure on your bud and soon rubbed it through circular motions. You immediately screamed in pleasure getting close again.
"Fuck I just w-wanna cum in you until I'm dry...god... you make me go insane Y/n" She confessed with one last thrust making you squirt non stop and while she completely came in you with shaking hips, this time she thrusted every pump of cum that came out and into your pussy so you can get all of it, with every thrust you squirted your juices out. You felt bliss all over your body, your stomach feeling so warm and full with tear stains on your cheeks. Jennie catching her breath while watching you tremble and shake from such pleasure that she caused you. She pulled a smirk and went down to kiss your cute lips and soon bit it causing for blood to seep into both of your mouths. Was this heaven? You asked yourself feeling warmth from the girl you loved so much. You two separated from the lack of air, but neither of you wanted to stop, Jennie with her sharp gaze on you, she licked her lips and formed a mischievous smile,
"Ready for round three my baby?"
(°=°')
4:02 AM
After the heaven and bliss that you two experienced, Jennie did after care for you. She can't let her princess go to bed uncomfortable. Bathing you with her scented soap and bath salt making you smell like her. Not forgetting to make you hers for the last time for the night, confessing both of your love to each other.
A/N:
This took me foreverrrrr. Anyways I love this one, I hope you guys enjoyed. Belated happy birthday to my baby jennie!, this was supposed to come out on her bday but I was busy with things. Also I accidentally deleted a request post while writing it so now the req is gone (°^°) I'm working on the req rn I'm so sorry for the long wait anon!
(°=°)
#jennie#kim Jennie#jennie blackpink#blackpink#jennie x female reader#smut#fluff#hyun#jennie x reader#yn#blackpink x reader#twice#nayeon#im nayeon#pang
925 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hii! Not sure if you are doing theres(if u dont just please ignore it) kind of requests, but if you do, may I pretty please with cherry on top get some headconons of yandere Mavuika with a darling on hunger strike? (basically darling refuses to eat unless freed)
Tsm 4 reading my request! And I am so sorry if you are not taking theres kind of requests, please just ignore this if thats the case!!
This is my first time getting this kind of request but I'll try 👆
Synopsis: you're not eating till you're free
TW: Darling will be the reader since I'm not too familiar with the concept (idk if darling is reader or not so yeah), gn!reader, coercion, manipulation, drug use, mentions of people supporting mavuika's actions, yandere Mavuika, reader is a traveller (but not the traveller), bad grammar, not proofread, bad writing, english is not my first language, I do not support any of the actions I've written, mentions of hurting reader, OOC, mentions of vomiting, short
Characters: Yandere!Mavuika x gn!reader
You missed the outside world.
The way Mondstadts air was like a calming breeze, the way Liyue had their stories, the way Inazuma was filled with the books from Yae publishing house, the way Sumeru was so casual, the way Fontaine's books were always entertaining to read.
You missed it all.
You had a plan to journey to find out about the entire world, the cultures of the different nations and their history. It was all so intriguing to you. However, out of all the regions, Nation was the most mysterious. None of the civilians from Natlan went outside their Nation, and it was all a mystery to you.
Now you knew that you should've stayed curious.
Natlan was filled with welcoming people, the culture and everything was all so unique to you. The tribal systems, the ancient names, they were all things you'd never heard of before. The fact that the Archon was human too really piqued your interest. It was much different than anything else you had ever seen before. You were drowning in these revelations, in a good way.
That's when you met the Archon.
She was welcoming, very much so. It was like you two bonded immediately. The two of you often got lost into speaking about many topics, her about Natlan and you about your journey. That often led to hours of talking, a company you enjoyed greatly.
It was then time for you to leave. Your family would start to worry about you leaving for too long anyway. But, Mavuika's words always made you stay for a bit longer, somehow.
"You still haven't learned about the specific cultures of each tribe, maybe we could talk about that. Writing letters is a hassle anyway. Just stay here for longer I promise."
So, one month turned to two, two into three and three into four. That's when you had the conscience to know that you were staying for too long. It was strange how your family wasn't giving any letters, but they must be worried either way.
The look Mavuika gave you when you told her this was nothing in the sort of pretty. However, she complied, and allowed you to leave Natlan. However, just as you were about to leave her office, you collapsed. You coughed up a bit of blood and you looked above you. Mavuika was peering down on you, her foot next to your head. Maybe that's why the smell in the room made you feel weird.
That's when you woke up in a bed, more luxurious than yours but horrifying nonetheless. You saw Mavuika entering the room, her expression unreadable. She offered you a hand, yet you slapped it away angrily. You were beyond angry, and also scared.
"Where am I Mavuika?! What did you do?!" Your eyes were starting to be filled up with tears, yet all she did was brush them away tenderly with her finger. The action felt disgusting, and you wanted nothing more than to escape. You spoke insult after insult to her, but she ended up carrying you, and as much as you wanted to just get out of her grasp, her scorching Pyro abilities on your back was enough to shut you up.
She took you to the stadium where multiple people were watching. You gulped at the sight, what was going on? Why did the people look so happy, weren't they going to help?!
She announced with joy that you were her "lover". You looked at her, horrified, trying to escspe from her grasp. The thought of it made you want to vomit, but the fact that so many people were cheering her on for getting a lover in the first place made it impossible for your screams of terror to be heard. You screeched, yelled and tried your very best but they were never heard.
You stayed for another month in Natlan, your face turning paper by the day.
Mavuika took you to the different tribes. She made you meet ancient name bearers, heroes of Natlan and such, but you want nothing to do with it. You just want to go home. You didn't want to know who were random people, you wanted to know how the hell you would get out of your situation.
Every feast, every gift, every compliment, they meant nothing. You vomited everything you ate, you threw away every gift you got and you (rudely) brushed off any compliment you could get. Mavuika gave you gifts too, but you always threw that away first.
Right now, you vomited up the food you ate again, feeling sick to your stomach. Coughing up saliva, you wiped it away with your sleeve.
"If she's going to play this game then so shall I," you muttered to yourself, determined . Really, your plan would only bring you so much pain, the pain of not eating, but you couldn't wait to see the look on her face when she sees your dead body. That salvation was the only thing you dreamed of. That's the day you put your plan into effect.
You ate nothing, you didn't want to, and for your best interest too. All the events that were celebrated were declined, and the maids that were supposed to take care of you got the same old excuse of: "I already ate," or, "I don't feel like eating." You were ecstatic, so glad everything was going the way you wanted. Sure, you were as skinny as a stick now, you were pale and all of your veins were showing, but hey, if she didn't do anything about it, it was fine. They way you would tremble, the way you constantly felt cold, the way you were like a twig ready to be blown away by the wind would all be worth it. Your inevitable death would be worth it, and you'd been dreaming of that outcome for a while by now.
"It would all be worth it."
As you pushed away the food you were offered again, you looked through your surroundings. You were bored. All the novels you'd gotten were all read through, and if it weren't for a certain Archon, you would've found your way to Snezhnaya by now.
That question answered itself quite easily.
Surprisingly enough you started to feel your eyes going shut. You mumbled incoherently, slowly falling asleep. Maybe you could pass the time by resting.
"Just a small nap.." You yawned, your mind going blank.
As you did so, Mavuika entered the room again, holding a bowl of gruel in her hands. She walked up to you and sat down at the ledge of the bed, slowly but surely feeding your unconscious figure. You would choke if she got any thing heavier, so this would have to do for now.
A few coughs went unnoticed as she finished your meal and slowly making you drink water, making sure you don't waste any drop. Your face was serene, she really hoped it would stay that way when you woke up.
"The inscence I got from Miss Emilie certainly worked well, I should thank her by letter sometime," she mumbled, looking at the hidden plate of the stuff in the corner. You were still fast asleep, oblivious to what she was doing.
"You won't be able to get rid of me so soon my dear," she talked to your sleeping self as she walked away. In response, you did a slight jerk in your sleep, almost as if you could hear what she said. But, if you knew or not didn't matter, you couldn't fight her anyway.
This is so trash but wtv
#reader insert#genshin impact#genshin x reader#yandere genshin impact#yandere genshin x reader#yandere mavuika x reader#mavuika x reader#mavuika#yandere#gender neutral reader
135 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Boogeyman (Alfie Solomons x Reader) 🎃Halloween Special🎃 ONESHOT
(UNEDITED) Pairing: Monster!Alfie Solomons x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 21,697
Warnings: SMUT (p in v, dry humping, forest sex, oral!fem receiving), age gap, child murders, eating children, Dark!Alfie, obsessive!Alfie, controlling Summary: "Do not misbehave, be a good girl. And no matter what. Never! enter the woods. He will get you." In a small village plagued by the ominous presence of the Boogeyman, you, a young and curious woman, find your world forever altered when you cross paths with Alfie Solomons, an enigmatic and older man. Instantly captivated by his mystique, you're drawn into his intriguing world, but as your connection deepens, you can't help but wonder if your newfound association with him will lead to unforeseen danger and consequences. A/N: This is an AU is set back in time with no real timeline and more than likely not in London. And literally after writing this out, I realised that this story would have been way better for Eddie Brock and Venom but...too late! It's also a bit fast paced but I got a lot to fit into a one shot so...it is what it is. This is also written in second person.
⛓🥀⛓ "Do not misbehave, be a good girl. And no matter what. Never! enter the woods. He will get you."
Parents would solemnly caution the young ones throughout the quiet village each and every night, their voices laden with apprehension.
"Don't be fooled," Mama repeated, her voice like a broken record.
The Boogeyman, that dreaded spectre that parents invoked to instil discipline, was a shadowy legend, perpetually elusive yet steadfastly believed. Has anyone ever truly encountered this enigmatic figure? The resounding answer was no, rendering him nothing more than a tale spun to terrify.
But, oh, how parents revealed such a lie! In our village, renowned for its disquieting history of frequent child disappearances, this sinister persona took root. The lore declared that the Boogeyman would " abduct children and consume them," using his uncanny abilities to manipulate young minds, often infiltrating their dreams. This malevolent entity remained shrouded in darkness, dwelling deep within the heart of the forbidding forest, where the realms of reality and nightmare intertwined.
As you reclined in my bed, your gaze fixed on the window, the ethereal moonlight casting eerie shadows of leaves that relentlessly scraped against the glass, you couldn't help but wonder about the secrets concealed within those unfathomable woods. The nights blurred into years, and the elusive forest seemed to guard its enigmas ever more jealousy.
Clusters of trees interwoven like an impenetrable tapestry obscured any glimpse of what lay beyond. What mysteries lurked in the depths of the woods, where no child from our village was ever meant to tread?
The yearning to explore that forbidden forest gnawed at you like an insatiable hunger. Just one opportunity to venture into the forest, to unravel its mysteries, was all you wished for. Yet, you were all too aware of Mama's unwavering resolve. She would never permit such a reckless escapade. You understood that desiring something as audacious as this was a perilous secret to harbour, for if word got out, the entire village would erupt in frenzy.
But what if there was something more to the forest, something beyond the tales of the Boogeyman? The adults, you reasoned, were only trying to protect the kids. Still, the allure of the unknown tugged at my curiosity like a relentless tide. It whispered promises of discovery and adventure, an escape from the mundane routine of our sheltered lives. And so, as you lay there, bathed in the soft glow of the moon, the forest beckoned with its tantalising mysteries, a riddle yet to be unravelled.
⛓🥀⛓ Morning arrived, accompanied by the gentle caress of the sun's warm tendrils sneaking through the window's gaps. Your eyes fluttered open, revealing the monotonous wooden confines of my unremarkable bedroom. Stretching one leg to touch the floor while the other dangled over the edge, you yawned and rubbed the remnants of sleep from my eyes. With a determined sigh, you pushed yourself upright and began the descent down the creaky staircase.
Mama's voice, as predictable as the rising sun, greeted me with a mild scolding. "It's nearly midday, Y/n. When will you learn to rise at a reasonable hour? You're 18 years old, not 80."
You met her reproach with a weary but respectful response. "I'm sorry, Mama," you replied, trudging wearily into the kitchen, where Mama was carefully slicing a fresh loaf of bread.
Her eyes, softened by maternal concern, met yours. "We're heading to the market today, dear. Please make an effort to look presentable."
You let out a resigned sigh, feeling the weight of her expectations pressing upon my shoulders. With reluctant steps, you retreated to your room, ready to face the day and the mysteries that the forest held, if only in your imagination.
⛓🥀⛓ The clamour of people rushing about engulfed you as you navigated through the bustling town. With your head held low, you stuck close to Mama, blending into her side as though seeking refuge in her presence.
Mama, sensing the need for a change, extended a few coins in your direction, her words laden with expectation ."Go look for some better clothes that actually fit you, or maybe even some fabric," she instructed, then wandered off into the throng, leaving you to fend for yourself.
A sense of unease washed over you. Can't she come with me? The bustling market felt overwhelming, and you yearned for her reassuring presence amid the chaos.
You didn't like the idea of solitude, especially in the midst of this bustling crowd, but Mama's directives were not to be questioned. Suppressing your apprehension, you ventured forth towards the market's clothing section.
As you progressed, you couldn't help but notice the fresh additions to the heart-wrenching collection of missing children posters. They clung to tent posts and any available surface like desperate pleas for help. Your heart ached for those unfortunate souls, caught in the enigmatic grasp of the forest.
Despite the vibrant array of exotic colours adorning various articles of clothing and accessories. Among them, a couple of red skirts caught your eye, but none truly ignited your interest. With a sigh of disappointment, you turned away and continued down the bustling road.
As you wandered, you couldn't help but observe the people around you. Many seemed to adhere to a similar aesthetic – modest attire befitting the lower class, much like your own clothing. The crowd blurred into a sea of similarity, with individuals seamlessly merging into the tapestry of the town's daily life.
However, amidst this sea of sameness, one figure stood out like an anomaly in the fabric of reality. It was a man, and although it seemed impossible, his presence had an uncanny ability to halt the world in its tracks.
He stood out to you, those grey eyes reminiscent of a universe filled with stars. A wide-brimmed pork pie hat sat atop of his brown hair, and a scruffy beard added an air of rugged refinement. His countenance bore a hardness that could easily be intimidating to those who dared to gaze upon it. In truth, you could endlessly enumerate the myriad qualities that rendered this man devilishly handsome.
Caught in his magnetic presence, you found yourself in a dreamy reverie, utterly reluctant to divert your gaze even for a fleeting moment. The world around you seemed to blur, leaving only the enigmatic stranger at the centre of your attention, a captivating mystery in the midst of the mundane.
As if on cue, his gaze locked onto yours, and you found yourself frozen in place. The sheer shock of the moment left you dumbfounded. However, he remained unruffled, and a sly smirk graced his lips. It was as though he relished the effect he had on you, causing an undeniable rush of heat to surge to your cheeks. In your flustered state, you instinctively averted your eyes to the ground, attempting to make a quick escape. Yet, your retreat was abruptly halted as you were whisked away, pinned against a nearby stall.
Your body stiffened as you looked up, meeting the intense gaze of your captor. Under his compelling presence, you couldn't help but tremble. It was the very same man who had captured your attention moments earlier with his striking charm. Now, he stood before you, effectively trapping you between him and the market stall. With a blend of sweetness and cockiness, he parted his luscious lips to speak.
"I saw you looking at me back there, what's your name?" he inquired, his cockney voice bearing a rich, raspy timbre that sent your heart into a frenzied race.
Swallowing hard, you struggled to steady your trembling nerves. "Come on, little Dove," you flinched as he brushed a stray strand of hair behind your ear.
Drawing even closer, he narrowed the distance between your faces. His warm breath caressed your skin as he pressed, "What's your name?"
"Y-Y/n," you managed to stutter out, your voice betraying your anxiety.
"Such a beautiful name you have," he purred, his name rolling off his tongue like a seductive melody. "Alfie."
His fingers gently caressed your cheek, coaxing your fearful gaze to meet his. "Don't be frightened, little Dove," he reassured, his words a soothing balm to your anxiety. "I won't hurt you."
Alfie continued to stroke his thumb against your flushed cheeks, a gesture that sent a shiver down your spine. Just as he was on the verge of speaking again, the sound of your mama's voice suddenly shattered the moment, putting a halt to his words.
"I hope to see you again," he whispered, his words carrying a weight of longing, before gracefully retreating from your alarmed presence and blending once more into the bustling crowd.
Exhaling deeply, you realised you had been subconsciously holding your breath during this intense encounter. Slowly, you managed to pull yourself together and step back onto the bustling street. With a quivering breath, you looked up and spotted Mama approaching, carrying two bags filled with provisions.
"What's left you so shaken, dear? Did you find anything at all?" Mama inquired with concern, her gaze searching your face for answers.
You shook your head, unable to articulate the unusual encounter you had just experienced. Mama let out a sigh of understanding. "Very well, let's go home now," she said, her tone a mix of curiosity and resignation, leaving the mysteries of the market behind as you both headed for the familiarity and safety of home.
The journey back home was marked by a heavy silence, your thoughts still consumed by the enigmatic man, Alfie. He had both unsettled and fascinated you in equal measure. Despite the intrigue, a part of you fervently hoped to never cross paths with him again, uncertain of how much more you could withstand.
The world outside seemed to blur into insignificance as your mind replayed the encounter with Alfie. His image and that rich, raspy voice lingered in your thoughts.
Your home lay on the outskirts of the village, necessitating a slightly longer walk. It took at least 10 minutes to reach your dwelling from anyone else in the village. Remarkably, you and Mama had managed to reside on the very edge of the village grounds, avoiding the ominous forest that loomed nearby.
Upon your return home, you couldn't resist the impulse to retreat to your room. You sprawled on your bed, trying to shake off the lingering presence of Alfie's airy voice that seemed to echo in your ears.
"Don't be scared of me, little Dove, I won't hurt you," his soothing words replayed in your mind, causing your heart to pound like a drum.
Your hand involuntarily slapped against your chest, attempting to quell the rapid, erratic rhythm that reverberated beneath your palm. Each thud seemed to resonate with the enigmatic encounter, leaving you in a state of restless disquietude.
What is it about him that makes my heart go crazy?
Without realising it, night had descended much faster than you anticipated, and a steaming dinner awaited your ravenous appetite. Each step you took seemed to drag out, your thoughts ensnared in a web of contemplation from which you couldn't break free. You lowered yourself into a dining chair, your movements slow and deliberate, as if trapped in a dreamlike state. Mama regarded you with a perplexed expression, her muttered comment cutting through the silence.
"Bloody weirdo," she mumbled, her words just audible enough to reach your ears.
You remained silent, the weight of the encounter with the man still lingering heavily in your thoughts. Picking up your fork, you mechanically shovelled food into your mouth, then efficiently tidied up before retreating to your room. Your body felt heavy as you trudged over to your bed, succumbing to the embrace of sleep almost instantly. The mysteries of the day, the enigmatic Alfie, and the forest beyond the village faded into the recesses of your mind as dreams took over.
⛓🥀⛓ Surrounded by a vibrant sea of flowers, you found yourself enchanted by the beauty that encircled you. Each blossom held a unique allure, and you couldn't help but admire each one.
"I knew you'd like them, they're all for you," he murmured, his words sending a warm rush of happiness through your veins.
It was a feeling of being cherished, of finally holding significance in someone's life. A wide, uncontrollable grin crept across your face, illuminated by his presence.
"Is that smile for me?" He inquired with a gentle sweetness, his arms encircling your waist from behind.
His lips brushed from your shoulder to your ear, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine.
"Just remember," he whispered softly, "you are only mine and always mine."
The possessiveness in his voice was undeniable, creating an electrifying tension in the air that left you both exhilarated and apprehensive.
⛓🥀⛓ You jolted awake from your slumber, shock coursing through your body as the remnants of the dream lingered in your mind.
It was him!
Struggling to shake off the vivid images from your dream, you hauled yourself out of bed. Each step felt like a deliberate effort as you ascended the stairs.
Near the top, Mama's voice sliced through your thoughts, her tone edged with curiosity and concern. "Are you going to continue acting strange today?" she inquired, her brow arching with a mix of annoyance and worry.
"No, Mama, I'm sorry," you replied softly, feeling a twinge of guilt as you hang your head low. You grabbed a slice of bread, your appetite subdued, and retreated to the solace of your room, leaving behind a lingering sense of intrigue and unease.
Alfie, his presence, and the enigma he embodied dominated your thoughts, stubbornly refusing to yield to anything else. Every attempt to divert your mind led it inexorably back to him.
Feeling compelled by this man who had entered your life so fleetingly, you found yourself instinctively preparing to venture out. There was no concrete reason, but an unexplainable desire drove you to wander the town for the day. Could it really be because of him? It seemed preposterous, yet undeniable.
Descending the stairs, you mulled over the notion of turning back and retreating to the solitude of your room. But before you could act on your uncertainty, Mama's voice pierced through your contemplations, pulling you back to reality.
"Where are you going?" her voice echoed in your ears, disrupting your thoughts.
"I just feel like taking a walk around town," you offered an excuse that was half-spontaneous, half-true.
"Alright," Mama replied, a hint of caution in her voice. "Make sure you're back before dark." Her concern lingered like a gentle reminder, urging you to tread carefully in this world of uncertainty.
⛓🥀⛓ The sound of leaves crinkling beneath your feet was the only audible presence in your world as your thoughts traversed distant realms. His eyes, his nose, his lips—every detail etched into your memory. You marvelled at the lingering impact he had on your mind.
As you strolled alone through town, a mix of emotions swirled within you. You couldn't decide if it was the novelty of going to town unaccompanied or the persistent thought of him that left you stunned. His effortless elegance, combined with a dishevelled allure that defied reason, played on a loop in your mind.
How did he manage to embody such an enigmatic blend of grace and rugged charm? The question lingered like an unsolved riddle, one that you couldn't help but ponder with each step you took through the quiet streets of the town.
What had once been a tranquil dirt road had transformed into cobblestone streets bustling with activity. Even though yesterday had been no different, the sight never ceased to amaze you. In this small village, it seemed almost impossible not to recognize every single person passing by. Yet, there was one face, one presence you desperately yearned to encounter again.
You couldn't bring yourself to admit it, but you scanned the crowded streets, lifting your head a little higher as if it might make a difference. Deep down, you knew it was a futile endeavour. No one ventured to town twice in such quick succession, and the odds of crossing paths with him again were slim. Nevertheless, a glimmer of hope persisted within you, an ember of desire to see him once more.
Having resigned yourself to the futility of your search, hope drained from your body like water from a sieve. A heavy, defeated sigh escaped your lips, and your shoulders slumped in disappointment.
With every intention of turning around and retracing your steps homeward, you paused for a fleeting moment. It was as if the universe had conspired to hold you in place, a strange sensation that left you momentarily rooted to the spot.
And then, with sudden and unexpected intensity, a large, firm hand snaked around your waist. Its grasp was assertive yet strangely gentle, pulling you back against a solid surface that radiated warmth and strength. The abruptness of the encounter sent a shiver down your spine, and you found yourself held in a mysterious and electrifying moment, suspended between the anticipation of the unknown and the familiarity of desire.
Your breath hitched, and a chill coursed through your body, freezing you in place.
"Were you that desperate to see me again?" he murmured, his voice deep and tender, sending shivers down your spine. "Glad to see you too, little Dove."
In that moment, your heart pounded with a mixture of excitement and uncertainty. He was here.
His voice drew nearer to your ear, and he inched closer. "That's why you're here, isn't it?" he whispered, his warm breath caressing your skin.
You couldn't help but shy away from his proximity, although it felt practically impossible. His chest pressed against your back, and a low chuckle rumbled within him, sending vibrations coursing through you.
"Care to walk with me?" His voice, as soothing as a gentle breeze, whispered in your ear.
"I mustn't," you initially declined, your apprehension tugging at your better judgement.
"Come on, little Dove," he coaxed, his firm yet gentle grip pulling you closer to his broad, enigmatic figure. The heat rose in your cheeks as you felt the closeness of his presence.
Hesitatingly, you found yourself nodding your head in reluctant agreement. It was a departure from your usual assertiveness, a testament to the irresistible allure he held over you in that fleeting moment.
What is happening to me!?
A playful smile graced his features as he gently took your hand in his, coaxing you along with him. Alfie's touch was magnetic, and you found yourself willingly following his lead.
Alfie led you through the bustling streets, navigating the crowded thoroughfares with ease, until you reached a dirt road that led into the looming forest. A sharp intake of breath escaped your lips, and you instinctively pulled your hand from his grasp.
I can’t go in there.
Alfie turned back to face you, his brow creased in confusion, searching your eyes for answers to the unspoken questions that hung in the air between you.
"What's wrong, little Dove?" he inquired, extending his hand toward you, only to have you stumble back, your fear palpable.
"I-I can't go in there," you managed to whisper, your voice trembling with uncertainty.
A ravishing smile graced his lips, a seductive playfulness dancing in his eyes.
"Is my poor darling scared?" he asked, his tone adopting a gentleness one might use when comforting a child.
Before you could respond, he pulled you close, wrapping his arm around your waist, and his voice dropped to a tantalising murmur as he assured you, "Don't worry. You'll be right by my side the whole time." His warm breath caressed your ear, sending a shiver down your spine, and you found yourself irresistibly drawn into his enigmatic world.
"Y-you don't understand," you stammered, your voice quivering with unease. "Mama told me I'm not—"
"Well, Mama’s not fucking here right now, is she?" he interjected, his tone taking on an edge that felt more menacing compared to his usual joviality. "You have me, and that's enough, isn't it? Is it not?"
His abrupt shift in demeanour sent shivers down your spine, and you began to tremble under the weight of his intense gaze. The sense of foreboding that hung in the air was suffocating, and you couldn't help but fear the implications of his newfound seriousness.
"Hey, what's wrong, Little Dove?" he inquired, his voice gentler now, as he tenderly cupped your face in his hands. The sudden contact made you flinch, and you instinctively tried to step back. But he held you firmly in place, his touch both comforting and unsettling.
You closed your eyes tightly, a protective reflex kicking in. His soothing words broke through the tension. "I won't hurt you, remember that."
Slowly, you began to open your eyes once again, only to be met with his hurt expression. The realisation that your actions had inadvertently caused him pain washed over you like a wave, and you felt a pang of remorse. You hadn't meant to hurt him.
"Do you not trust me?" he asked, his tone tinged with gravity and concern.
You reached for his hands and held them firmly, your fingers intertwined with his. A rapid shake of your head followed. "No, no, I do trust you!" you reassured him with urgency, your voice filled with sincerity and desperation.
A warm smile gradually graced his features once more, and the tension in the air seemed to dissipate.
"Perfect," he affirmed, the word carrying a sense of reassurance and finality, as if sealing an unspoken pact between the two of you.
Alfie tugged at your left hand, guiding you deeper into the heart of the forest. You clung onto his arm, your grip tight, your senses alert to the mysteries lurking behind each tree. His smirk hinted at a shared understanding of your vulnerability, and you found yourself relying on him for both guidance and protection.
As you ventured further into the dense woodland, you felt the enormity of the forest closing in around you. Each step drew you deeper into its mysterious embrace, and the world outside began to blur into obscurity. In this surreal wilderness, your proximity to Alfie was strikingly intimate. He held you so close that his touch on your left thigh became a grounding force, a reassuring reminder that you were not alone in the vastness of the unknown. His firm grip served as a constant, physical connection, anchoring you to the present moment as you navigated deeper into the enigmatic heart of the forest.
The air in the forest was heavy with mist, its density obscuring the path you had been following. Before you could react, it seemed to vanish into a carpet of fallen leaves and small twigs.
Raising your gaze toward the intricate tapestry of tree branches overhead, you marvelled at their intricate dance as they reached out to one another and intertwined. Each step Alfie led you deeper into the forest was like a journey from darkness to light. The once-shadowed path had transformed into a radiant garden, adorned with a kaleidoscope of plants in every imaginable shape and colour, creating an enchanting oasis within the heart of the woods.
A soft gasp escaped your lips as you knelt down, gently grazing your hand against the delicate petals. The sensation of their softness against your skin sent a shiver of delight through you. You withdrew your hand, fingers tingling, and rejoined Alfie as you continued to explore the enchanting garden.
He leaned in, his lips brushing tantalisingly close to your ear, sending a thrill down your spine. "I knew you would like them," he murmured, his voice a gentle, soothing hum. "They're all for you." His words hung in the air, a sweet promise that seemed to bloom amid the garden's vibrant beauty.
Why does that sound so familiar?
You pressed your body closer to him, a hidden smile gracing your lips as you sought refuge in his comforting embrace.
"Come on, show me that beautiful fucking smile of yours," he teased, his fingers gently lifting your chin to face him.
You attempted to pull back, but his hold on you remained steadfast. The corner of his lips curved upward into a warm, open-mouthed smile, and he let out a compassionate laugh that washed over you like a gentle wave.
Though you had known Alfie for only two days, the tender affection he showered upon you felt undeniably real. In his presence, every moment felt fresh and vibrant, as if the world had been painted anew. Not for a single second did you wish for him to leave, your heart yearning to savour every precious moment with him.
"See, now if you hadn't come with me," he said brightly, his voice filled with enthusiasm, "you wouldn't have gotten to see all this. And I wouldn't want my little Dove to miss out on all the fun."
His words danced like sunlight through the leaves, infusing the moment with a sense of adventure and joy. You couldn't help but be grateful for the opportunity to explore this enchanting world with him by your side, realising that it had brought you closer to something magical and extraordinary.
You and Alfie continued your journey through the garden, passing by the vibrant flowers and circling around a mighty, ancient tree. As you ventured further, a two-story house came into view, slightly larger than your own. With a sense of wonder, you gently released yourself from Alfie's arm and approached the beautiful house.
The exterior was a tapestry of nature, with flowers and ivy adorning nearly every inch of its walls. The door, a rich dark brown, boasted an elegant golden handle—a luxury not often seen by those who weren't of royal descent.
From behind, you felt Alfie's gradual approach, his hand settling warmly high up on your back. The touch was both reassuring and filled with an unspoken promise of the adventures yet to unfold within the walls of this enchanting place.
"Let's head inside," he whispered softly, his warm breath brushing against your ear, sending shivers down your spine.
"This is yours?" you asked, your voice filled with shock and amazement.
With a gentle push, Alfie urged you toward the house, his hand a reassuring presence on your back, guiding you forward. You stepped through the open door, allowing you to enter first. As you crossed the threshold, you were immediately enveloped in a welcoming warmth that wrapped around you like a comforting embrace. The interior of the house was even more breathtaking than the exterior, with a cosy, inviting atmosphere that made you feel instantly at home. The flickering light of a fireplace cast a warm glow over a long couch adorned with plush cushions and a beautiful red and gold rug, creating an inviting space that beckoned you to sit and relax. Shelves lined with various items, from books to potted plants, showcased a charming collection that spoke of a well-lived life. A quaint kitchenette, nestled near a staircase that led to the second floor, completed the cosy setting, and you took in the inviting atmosphere that surrounded you.
Alfie followed closely behind you, his eyes never leaving your form as you took in the surroundings. His gaze was intense, filled with a mixture of pride and anticipation. He watched with a faint, satisfied smile as you marvelled at the interior of the house he had brought you to.
The inviting atmosphere seemed to wrap around both of you, creating a sense of intimacy and connection. The flickering firelight painted playful shadows on the walls, casting a warm and inviting ambiance throughout the room. The long couch, adorned with plush cushions, practically begged for you to sink into its comfortable embrace, and the beautiful red and gold rug added a touch of elegance to the space.
Your attention was drawn to the shelves that lined the walls, displaying an eclectic collection of items. Books of all genres stood shoulder to shoulder with potted plants, each item contributing to the overall charm of the room. The quaint kitchenette, complete with its own unique character, nestled near the staircase that led to the second floor, completed the cosy setting.
Alfie's presence beside you felt both reassuring and electrifying, like a promise of something new and exciting on the horizon. The house seemed to echo with the unspoken possibilities of what this moment could mean for both of you, and you couldn't help but wonder where this unexpected journey with him would lead.
"This place is beautiful, Alfie," you said, your voice filled with genuine appreciation as you continued to take in the enchanting surroundings.
Alfie gave you a pleased smile in response to your compliment before guiding you to the next room. As you both approached the wooden staircase that led to the second floor, your gaze was drawn to a compact kitchenette nestled nearby. Its well-organised design fit seamlessly into the room, with charming touches that added to the overall cosiness of the house.
The kitchenette featured polished wooden countertops, adorned with small potted herbs that added a delightful burst of greenery. A quaint sink sat beneath a window that allowed natural light to flood the space, making it feel even more inviting. The shelves were stocked with a variety of dishes and cookware, while a vintage stove stood as the centrepiece, ready to whip up delicious meals.
Alfie stood by your side, watching your reactions with a sense of pride. The house was not only beautiful but also meticulously designed to create an atmosphere of comfort and tranquillity. Every corner seemed to reflect the care and thought that had been put into making it a warm and welcoming place. "Tea?" Alfie asked, his voice carrying a note of warmth and hospitality.
You nodded, the idea of a soothing cup of tea in this enchanting setting sounding like the perfect way to continue your visit. You took a seat at the dining table, which was situated near the kitchenette and surrounded by charming wooden chairs. The table itself was adorned with a delicate lace tablecloth, adding a touch of elegance to the rustic charm of the room.
As you settled into your seat, you watched with curiosity and appreciation as Alfie moved gracefully about the kitchenette. He reached for a teapot, its design matching the overall aesthetic of the house, and carefully filled it with water. The aromatic tea leaves were lovingly measured and added to the pot, creating a fragrant blend that hinted at the promise of a delightful tea time.
The sound of water boiling and the gentle clinking of teacups filled the air as Alfie prepared the tea with practised ease. The cosy atmosphere of the house seemed to enhance the simple pleasure of sharing a cup of tea with someone who had quickly become an intriguing and enigmatic presence in your life.
As he carried the steaming teapot and two cups to the dining table, you couldn't help but feel a sense of connection and curiosity growing between you and Alfie. It was as if the house itself had brought you together, and you were eager to continue exploring both the enchanting surroundings and the enigmatic man who had guided you here.
"Thank you," you said appreciatively, taking one of the cups that Alfie had prepared and bringing it to your lips. The first sip of the fragrant tea was a soothing embrace to your senses, its warmth spreading through your body and providing a moment of calm in the midst of the day's unexpected events.
As you savoured the tea's delicate flavour, you couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort settle over you. It was as if the house, with its cosy atmosphere and Alfie's gracious hospitality, had become a sanctuary of sorts. The worries and uncertainties that had been plaguing your mind since you first encountered Alfie began to recede, replaced by a newfound sense of tranquillity.
Alfie watched you closely, his gaze unwavering but not intrusive. There was a certain intensity in his eyes, as if he were studying your every reaction and response. It was a reminder that there was still much about him that remained a mystery, a puzzle waiting to be unravelled.
Despite the enigma that surrounded Alfie, you couldn't deny the undeniable connection that seemed to be forming between the two of you. The events of the day had taken an unexpected turn, and you found yourself drawn deeper into a world that was as mysterious as it was alluring.
As you continued to share tea and conversation in the charming dining area, you couldn't help but wonder where this unexpected journey would lead you next and what secrets the enigmatic Alfie held within the walls of his captivating home.
"Such a cute fucking thing, you are," Alfie remarked, a hint of affection in his voice as he regarded you with a fond smile. The endearment sent a warm flutter through your chest, and you couldn't help but return his smile with a shy one of your own.
A rush of warmth flooded your cheeks, and you couldn't deny the blush that had painted your face a shade of crimson. Alfie's words and the intensity of his gaze had an undeniable effect on you, causing your heart to race and your emotions to swirl in a captivating whirlwind.
Your gaze momentarily dropped, unable to maintain eye contact with Alfie's penetrating stare. It was as if his words had unveiled a vulnerability within you, one that you hadn't been fully aware of until now. In his presence, you felt exposed, yet strangely drawn to the enigmatic charm that surrounded him.
As the blush deepened, you found yourself at a loss for words, the unspoken tension between you and Alfie growing stronger with each passing moment. It was a moment of both vulnerability and connection, as if the very air around you crackled with an unspoken promise of what could be.
The words and gestures exchanged between you and Alfie had created a unique bond, one that was both intriguing and captivating. His charm was undeniable, and the allure of his enigmatic presence had drawn you in deeper than you ever expected.
You leaned back slightly in your chair, a thoughtful expression crossing your face as you considered Alfie's question. It was a simple enough request, yet you found yourself hesitating, unsure of where to begin.
"Well," you began slowly, "I've lived in the village for as long as I can remember. My mama owns a home on the outskirts with a little garden and chickens." You paused, a wistful smile touching your lips as you recalled fond memories of your childhood.
"I would enjoy spending time in nature," you continued, your eyes meeting Alfie's. "There's something serene about the forest and the fields that has always drawn me in. But of course I’m not allowed in it. This is the first time I’ve ever stepped foot in the forest and it’s beautiful. I wished my parents weren’t so paranoid."
Alfie listened attentively, his eyes never leaving yours as he absorbed your words. His genuine interest in getting to know you better was evident, and it made you feel a connection that went beyond mere attraction.
As you spoke about your hobbies, your family, and your dreams, you couldn't help but notice how Alfie's presence seemed to put you at ease. The initial fear and uncertainty that had gripped you earlier had given way to a growing sense of comfort in his company. You were beginning to realise that there was much more to Alfie than met the eye, and you were eager to discover the layers beneath his enigmatic exterior as well.
"So...the forest is safe then?" you asked, a hint of curiosity in your voice. After all, Alfie lived alone in the forest, and you couldn't help but wonder if the recent disturbance meant any potential danger for the place you had grown to enjoy exploring with him.
"As long as you're with me, you're safe," Alfie answered with a reassuring smile.
Your curiosity got the best of you, and you prodded further. "What's out there in the forest, Alfie?"
Alfie's gaze turned thoughtful as he considered your question. “Just fucking wild dogs. Real aggressive buggers, yeah. Why I keep a shotgun at the door, always fucking come around here.”
You couldn't help but shiver at the thought of those aggressive wild dogs roaming the nearby forest.
"But no monsters out there, Dove," Alfie reassured you, his tone lightening the mood. "None that would hurt you, at least." He punctuated his words with a playful wink, causing a small, relieved smile to tug at your lips.
Yet, beneath the surface of this newfound connection, there lingered an unspoken tension—a sense that there was more to Alfie and the world he inhabited than met the eye. It was a mystery you couldn't ignore, even as you basked in the warmth of his hospitality.
⛓🥀⛓ After that day, neither you nor Alfie could get enough of each other. It became a routine for both of you to meet up every day. Alfie would take you on leisurely walks, whether through the charming town or the mysterious depths of the forest. Each day was a new adventure, filled with laughter, shared secrets, and stolen kisses.
You had gone from initially fearing the forest to eagerly wanting to explore it further with Alfie by your side. As time passed, you found yourself falling in love with him, and each day spent together only strengthened your bond. The forest, once a place of dread, became a backdrop for your shared adventures, and you cherished every moment spent with Alfie.
Your mother, observant as always, couldn't help but notice the profound change in your daily routine. While she may not have known the specifics of your newfound friendship or the identity of the person who had captured your heart, the fact that you left the house every day, returning only when the sun dipped below the horizon, didn't escape her notice. She watched as a radiance lit up your face, and her motherly instincts told her that something special had taken root in your life, something that seemed to bring you immense happiness and fulfilment. It was a change she welcomed, even if it remained shrouded in a bit of mystery.
On this particular day, as you left the house to spend time with Alfie, your heart danced with anticipation. It had become a familiar routine – Alfie guiding you to his house, a place that now felt like a second home. Each visit held the promise of adventure, the allure of the unknown, and the comfort of his presence. As you made your way through the streets, you couldn't help but smile, knowing that you were about to embark on another unforgettable journey with the enigmatic man who had turned your world upside down.
Alfie, as always, was waiting for you at your designated meeting spot, leaning casually against a lamppost. His eyes, as they locked onto yours, sparkled with a mixture of mischief and warmth.
"You came back to me, my little Dove?" he purred, his tease sending a delightful shiver down your spine.
You nodded eagerly, the air vibrating with a sense of anticipation. “You just make my day much more exciting, how could I stay away?”
With a graceful wave of his hand, Alfie beckoned you to follow, and you fell into step beside him. As you walked through the village streets, the two of you exchanged stories and laughter, your connection deepening with every shared moment.
Alfie's house came into view, and you couldn't help but marvel at how comfortable you'd grown in this once-forbidding place. Inside, the air was imbued with a blend of mysterious scents, a reflection of Alfie's captivating personality. It was a world of hidden corners and secrets, a world you were more than willing to explore.
As the hours passed, you found yourself drawn further into the web of Alfie's charm and charisma. He regaled you with tales of his own past, leaving you hanging on his every word. The sun dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows that danced across the room, and the atmosphere between you grew increasingly charged.
“You’re such a pretty fucking little thing, you know that, Dove?” Alfie murmured, his gaze lingering on you.
Alfie, his voice hushed and hypnotic, shared an old folk tale he'd heard from a distant land, his words wrapping around you like a spell.
His words hung in the air like a forbidden melody, and you felt your heart race as you swallowed hard. Alfie's intense gaze bore into you, and a flush of warmth crept up your cheeks.
"I..." Words seemed to escape you, lost in the whirlwind of emotions that his compliment had stirred. You'd never felt quite like this before, a heady mix of desire and vulnerability. His proximity, the charged atmosphere, it all left you breathless.
Alfie's fingers, calloused from a life of intrigue and danger, gently brushed a stray strand of hair from your face. His touch was electric, sending sparks of sensation through your skin. With infinite tenderness, he cupped your chin, tilting your head upward until your eyes locked onto his.
"Dove," he murmured, his voice low and husky, "I've been waitin' for this moment."
Time seemed to stand still as Alfie leaned in, his lips a breath away from yours. You could feel the warmth of his breath on your skin, a tantalising promise of what was about to happen. It was a moment of perfect anticipation, the world fading into insignificance as your lips drew closer together, the magnetic pull between you impossible to resist.
You found yourself leaning closer, caught in the captivating cadence of his storytelling. In that moment, as the world outside faded away, it seemed as if time itself had paused, and you were suspended in the enchantment of the narrative. His eyes locked onto yours, and a pause lingered in the air, filled with unspoken words. You could feel the weight of the moment, a subtle tension that neither of you dared to break.
The moment stretched, time standing still as you gazed into each other's eyes. It was a dance of longing, desire, and the unspoken, a dance that had been building since the day you first met Alfie Solomons. And as you leaned closer, the world outside faded away, leaving only the promise of that moment and the anticipation of what was to come.
In that charged moment, Alfie's lips finally met yours. It was a gentle yet fervent kiss, a merging of two souls drawn together by an undeniable magnetism. His lips were soft against yours, coaxing and inviting, as if they had been designed solely to fit yours.
Your heart thudded loudly in your chest as you responded to his kiss, your fingers trembling slightly as they reached up to tangle in his hair. The world around you seemed to fade away, leaving only the sensation of Alfie's mouth on yours, a taste of desire and longing that left you breathless.
Alfie deepened the kiss, his passion igniting a fire within you. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer, until there was not an inch of space between you. It was a kiss filled with promise, a silent declaration of the unspoken desires that had simmered between you since the moment you had first met.
With a soft, lingering sigh, you both slowly pulled away from each other, the warmth of the moment still radiating between you.
Alfie's eyes bore into yours, intense and filled with a mixture of emotions. His thumb gently brushed across your cheek, as if he couldn't resist the urge to touch you even for a moment longer. A small, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corners of his lips, revealing the depth of his feelings.
You, too, found yourself smiling, a blush rising to your cheeks as you looked down for a brief moment. The air between you was charged with unspoken words, with the knowledge that this was a turning point in your relationship.
A timid, hopeful smile played at the corners of your lips as you asked, "you...like me?"
Alfie burst into hearty laughter at your question, the sound filling the room and echoing with amusement.
"Yeah, I fucking like you, Dove," Alfie replied with a warm smile, his eyes filled with a fondness that made your heart flutter.
As you gazed into Alfie's eyes, a mixture of emotions swirled within you. The connection between you two felt stronger than ever, yet there was an undeniable tension in the air. You couldn't help but feel the weight of the unspoken desires that hung between you like a delicate thread, waiting to be acknowledged.
Alfie's thumb gently brushed against your cheek, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. His eyes, filled with an intensity that left you breathless, slowly descended to your lips. Time seemed to stand still as he leaned in, his warm breath mingling with yours.
"I got you something," Alfie said with a hint of excitement in his voice.
Your curiosity piqued, you raised an eyebrow. His smile widened as he gracefully rose from his chair, moving to the side of the room. With deliberate care, he retrieved a bundle of rich, dark red cloth and extended it toward you. You accepted the bundle, your fingers tingling with anticipation as you gently unfolded it. Before you lay a breathtaking dark red dress, its fabric shimmering in the dim light, and you couldn't help but gasp at its sheer beauty.
"Alfie, I can't possibly accept this," you said humbly, your eyes fixed on the exquisite dress before you. The fabric alone bespoke a level of luxury you had never encountered before, and it made your heart race with both gratitude and unease.
The dress was far from cheap, that much was clear, and you struggled with the idea of accepting such an opulent gift. "Alfie, this is too much," you insisted, torn between admiration for the dress and the sense of propriety that told you it was beyond your means.
But Alfie's gaze held unwavering determination as he replied, "No, that's yours." His voice was firm, leaving no room for argument, and his eyes seemed to convey a deeper sentiment you couldn't quite decipher.
You offered a warm smile, genuinely grateful for his gesture, and expressed your gratitude with a heartfelt, "Thank you, Alfie."
As you rose from your seat and approached him, his smirk widened, and his eyes sparkled with a mischievous glint. There was an undeniable tension in the air, a magnetic pull that drew you closer to him, leaving both of you acutely aware of the charged atmosphere between you.
Just as your lips were about to meet once more, a distant noise from the bustling village outside broke the spell. The moment was interrupted, and you both pulled away, a sense of longing and frustration in your eyes.
Alfie let out a sigh, his forehead resting against yours. "It seems some wild fucking dog has other plans for us, Dove," he said, a little irritated.
You nodded, your heart heavy with both desire and the harsh reality of the world outside. The two of you shared one last lingering look before reluctantly parting, knowing that this stolen moment was just the beginning of a deeper, more complicated connection between you.
With a swift stride, Alfie grabbed the shotgun waiting by his front door, his determined steps echoing his resolve as he left the house to confront the issue. You couldn't help but shake your head in amusement and let out a soft chuckle.
⛓🥀⛓ Over the past month, you had spent more and more time with Alfie, and you couldn't deny the growing closeness between you. There was a palpable connection, an unspoken understanding that seemed to deepen with each passing day. However, you couldn't help but notice the subtle shifts in the atmosphere whenever you found yourselves in close proximity, as if the air itself crackled with unspoken desires and emotions.
Whenever Alfie playfully teased you, your cheeks would flush with warmth, and you found it increasingly difficult to hide the undeniable attraction that was blossoming between you two. The tension between you felt electric, like a charged wire ready to ignite at any moment. It was a dance of desire that neither of you could completely ignore.
You were engaged in conversation, seated together on his lounge chair. The sun bathed you both in its warm, golden light, casting long shadows that danced across the room.
The gentle breeze rustled the leaves outside, and the distant sounds of the village carried through the air. You found yourself captivated by Alfie's words, the way he spoke with a mixture of confidence and vulnerability.
As the conversation continued, Alfie's eyes locked onto yours, and you couldn't help but feel a magnetic pull between you. His words grew softer, more intimate, and his fingers brushed against yours. The tension in the air became palpable, and it seemed as though neither of you could resist the inevitable any longer.
Alfie's fingers trailed up and down the sides of your arms, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. Warm puffs of his breath teased the nape of your neck, making your skin tingle in response.
"You are so beautiful, my little Dove," he murmured, his lips pressing gently below your ear.
With a swift, almost possessive motion, he spun you around to face him. His eyes, brimming with intense desire, bore into your soul, making your heart race. He dipped his head into the crook of your neck, forcing you to tilt your head back slightly. Soft, lingering kisses traced the base of your neck, slowly ascending along your jawline. Your eyelids fluttered closed as his kisses grew more demanding, your mouth falling open slightly as you released an unsteady breath.
"Just remember, you are only mine and always mine," As Alfie whispered those possessive words, they echoed through your mind, weaving a spell that bound you to him completely. Each word carried a weight of dominance, his declaration demanding your unwavering obedience.
With a nod, you acknowledged your place as his, a mix of desire and devotion swirling within you. A gentle smile graced his lips, and he guided you towards the plush furs and blankets spread invitingly in front of the dancing flames of the fireplace, an intimate sanctuary where deeper passions and pleasures awaited.
Sinking onto his lap, you found yourself straddling him, your bodies perfectly aligned in a passionate embrace. Alfie's strong hands claimed your hips, his touch grounding you and igniting a primal connection. As you leaned in, your fingertips trailed gently along his face, tracing the contours with adoration, feeling the roughness of his stubble against your delicate touch. The warmth of the fire bathed you both in an intimate glow, casting flickering shadows that danced upon your entwined forms, amplifying the intensity of the moment.
Unable to resist the magnetic pull between you, you leaned forward, capturing Alfie's lips in a fervent and passionate kiss. The world around you faded into a blur as the fervour of your connection intensified. Your bodies pressed together, fueling the fire of desire that blazed within you both. Time seemed to stand still as the heat of the moment enveloped you, an intoxicating blend of desire, need, and surrender.
Lost in the depths of your intense kiss, you felt Alfie's hands skillfully navigate the intricate strings of your dress, pulling them gently but deliberately. The tension released as the fabric of your dress gave way, caressing your skin as it slid down your body, revealing the curves and contours that had captured his desire. The cool air heightened your senses, contrasting with the scorching heat that enveloped you both, as the anticipation of what lay ahead hung in the air like an electrifying promise.
As Alfie's hands glided along the sides of your body, a delicious shiver coursed through you, making your skin come alive under his touch. The contrast of his rough hands against the softness of your skin heightened the sensation, igniting a hunger for more. His touch, both possessive yet tender, explored every curve and contour, unravelling the layers of desire that bound you together, until you were both consumed by an electric connection that could not be denied.
You reciprocated his actions by pushing off his vest, the fabric gliding smoothly over his shoulders and pooling on the floor. Your hands trembled with anticipation as you deftly undid the buttons of his shirt, revealing the sculpted contours of his chest. Each button released heightened your desire, revealing more of the tantalising sight that lay beneath. The shared act of undressing became a sensual dance, fueling the flames of anticipation and escalating the intensity of the moment.
Feeling an overwhelming desire to explore every inch of Alfie's impressive physique, you compelled your hands to ascend his chest, tracing the contours and definition of each sculpted muscle. The strength and power beneath your fingertips stirred a primal longing within you, as you marvelled at the testament of masculinity before you. With every touch, you revelled in the intoxicating mix of vulnerability and strength that radiated from him, forging an unbreakable bond between your souls.
With a slow and deliberate movement, Alfie pressed you gently onto the inviting surface of the floor beneath you, a luxurious furs that cradled your bodies. Hovering over you, his eyes burning with desire, he claimed your lips once more in a ravenous kiss that sent sparks cascading through your veins. As his lips explored yours and his hands caressed your skin, he maintained an intoxicating rhythm of undressing, shedding his pants in a tantalising display of intimacy that left you yearning for even closer connection. The world around you faded away as you surrendered completely to the fiery passions that spiralled between you, lost in the ethereal cocoon of pleasure and desire.
"Will you make love to me, Alfie?" you asked, your voice filled with hope and longing.
Alfie smiled and kissed you, his voice low and filled with desire, "You fucking know it."
With a gleam in his eyes, Alfie drew you closer, his touch sending shivers down your spine, before he whispered, "I'll show you just how much I fucking want you."
Alfie's nimble fingers danced across your skin, igniting trails of electric sensation that made your every nerve tingle with overwhelming pleasure. As his lips continued their fervent exploration, leaving a trail of fiery kisses on your neck, the air was thick with the intoxicating scent of desire and anticipation. Without a moment's hesitation, Alfie skillfully removed both his underwear and yours, the two of you standing there, vulnerable and exposed, consumed by an insatiable hunger for each other.
As Alfie's lips ventured further south, a wicked combination of anticipation and need coursed through your veins, rendering your body a pulsing canvas of desire. With each gentle, tantalising kiss, he moved closer to your most sensitive spot, his hot breath a delicious torment that made your hips instinctively arch towards him, desperately seeking the contact your body craved. The world ceased to exist in that moment, leaving only the electrifying connection between you and Alfie, as you surrendered completely to the intoxicating rhythm of pleasure.
Alfie's kisses trailed along the soft expanse of your thighs, his beard creating an exquisite friction against your skin that added an unexpected element of sensation. The anticipation in the air grew thicker as his hands gently but firmly pushed your legs apart, affording him unrestricted access to your most intimate parts. Your breath hitched in a mixture of anticipation and excitement, your body humming with a hunger that only he could satisfy. As he drew closer to your nether regions, a wave of yearning washed over you, making every nerve ending hyperaware and eager for his touch.
“You ready, sweetie?” Alfie asked, looking up at you. With a nod of consent, every fibre of your being alive with an intoxicating mix of anticipation and desire, Alfie wasted no time in indulging in the delicious feast that lay before him. As his skilled lips enclosed around your sensitive clit, a breathtaking surge of ecstasy rippled through you, leaving you gasping and trembling with pleasure. Every flick of his tongue and every gentle suck ignited a wildfire within, consuming your senses and heightening every sensation to a point of exquisite bliss.
As Alfie continued to work his magic with fervent dedication, his tongue expertly tracing patterns of pleasure over your throbbing, sensitive bud, your body began to dance to a symphony of pleasure. Waves of sensation crashed through you, each one more intense than the last, unravelling the very fabric of your self-control. Your fingers clawed at the fur, seeking anchor in the sea of bliss that threatened to engulf you completely. Every breath you took was a symphony of moans and gasps, an unspoken language of desire and surrender that reverberated through the room. Alfie, keenly attuned to your every reaction, accelerated his ministrations, pushing you towards the precipice of pleasure. And at the apex, as the world stood still, time suspended, you succumbed to the overwhelming ecstasy that washed over you, your body convulsing with a release that echoed with the raw intensity of passion.
A surge of newfound boldness coursed through your veins as you shakily gathered the strength to yank Alfie's head up from his expert ministrations. His lips and beard glistened with the evidence of your need, a tantalising sight that fueled your hunger for more. With a breathless command, a raspy plea that dripped with need, you revealed your deepest desire to him.
"I want to finish on your cock," you whispered, your voice trembling with desire, as you locked eyes with him, a silent invitation to fulfil the craving that pulsed between you.
Alfie's sharp intake of breath, a symphony of desire, resonated through the room, kindling the fire that burned between you. Climbing back on top of you, he devotedly claimed your lips, his own still moist with the essence of your shared pleasure. The taste of intimacy lingered in the kiss, an intoxicating reminder of the depths you had explored together. As his tongue danced with yours, the world faded away, leaving only the two of you lost in a whirlwind of passion.
“Anything for my little Dove.”
Alfie, his eyes smouldering with a mix of tenderness and sheer desire, tenderly stroked himself, relishing the sight of his throbbing length gliding along your slickness. As you tighten your grip on his broad shoulders, anticipation crackles in the air, mingling with the intoxicating scent of arousal. With deliberate slowness, he pressed himself inside you, inch by glorious inch, eliciting a shuddering gasp as the exquisite fullness consumed your senses. The raw pleasure of being filled by him, the connection that surged through your intertwined bodies, was unlike anything you had experienced before. Desperation tinged Alfie's kiss, a plea for reciprocity and mutual surrender, as he began to move, a rhythm that danced between ecstasy and longing, igniting a scorching symphony of pleasure between the two of you.
“Fucking hell, Dove.” Alfie said, breathlessly.
With every deliberate thrust, Alfie stirred a tempest of pleasure within you, causing your breath to tremble and your body to respond in kind. As the initial intensity subsided, you melted into the exquisite union, drowning in waves of pleasure that consumed your very being. In a sublime symphony, your moans transformed into whimpered pleas, a symphony only Alfie could conduct. Sensing your growing comfort, Alfie shifted his attention to the sensitive side of your neck, trailing hot, passionate kisses that sent electrifying shivers down your spine, intensifying the symphony of pleasure that enveloped you both.
As the intensity of the moment cascaded over you like a tidal wave, your eyes closed, surrendering completely to the overwhelming pleasure that coursed through every fibre of your being. Sensing Alfie's own struggle to maintain control, you watched as his restraint crumbled, giving way to an unrelenting desire that fueled his increasingly frenzied thrusts. The pace quickened, a rhythm that matched the wild tempo of your racing hearts, while his lips continued their assault on the sensitive expanse of your neck, igniting a symphony of moans that harmonised with the symphony of pleasure that washed over you. With every gasping breath and the crescendo of your moans, the intensity escalated, pushing you both to the precipice of ecstasy.
“I’m gonna make you come so fucking hard, you hear me Dove?” As Alfie's voice, a potent mix of devotion and aggressive desire, seared into your senses, you felt a surge of primal energy surge through you.
His embrace, a possessive grip that anchored you to the moment, tightened around your body, keeping you locked in a passionate embrace. With each powerful thrust, he relentlessly drove you closer to the edge of ecstasy, your climax rising within you like a crescendo in a symphony of pleasure. The anticipation hung in the air, a taut wire stretched to its limit, ready to snap and release an explosion of rapture. A sheen of sticky sweat glistened on your entwined bodies, merging the heat and intensity of your connection.
“You’re close, aren’t you Dove? Yeah? I can feel you fucking throbbing around me.” Alfie's words, a sultry rasp in your ear, ignited an inferno of desire within you, the intensity of his presence amplifying every pulsating throb of pleasure that rippled through your core.
As the relentless rhythm of his twitching cock sent spasms of ecstasy coursing through you, your world shattered into an explosion of pleasure that consumed you wholly, surrendering all control to the intoxicating climax that washed over you like a tidal wave.
As the electric waves of your orgasm crashed over you, the sensation of your convulsing walls enveloping him sent Alfie hurtling into his own release. With a raw, guttural groan, he unleashed his hot seed deep within you, each pulse of his ecstasy an intimate testament to the depth of your connection. Time stood still in that moment, as you both surrendered to the overwhelming bliss that wrapped around you, their bodies entwined in the aftermath of a sinfully euphoric union.
As the final echoes of pleasure subsided, Alfie pressed his lips against yours in a tender, loving kiss, a gesture that embodied the lingering connection between you. With a contented sigh, he gently melted onto the plush fur blanket beside you, his embrace drawing you closer, cocooning you in a comforting warmth. Holding you tightly, his lips brushed against the top of your head, leaving a feather-light imprint of affection. In the tranquillity of the room, the only audible sounds were the synchrony of your catching breaths and the soft crackling of the fire, a backdrop to the blissful aftermath of your shared pleasure.
"That was incredible, Alfie. Seriously, wow," you said, letting out a joyous laugh and snuggling into his side.
He kissed your forehead, his voice soft and filled with admiration, "Yeah, it was. You were amazing, Dove."
You chuckled, feeling content in his arms. "I barely did anything."
He grinned and squeezed you closer. "And yet, you were fucking amazing."
Despite the sticky sweat clinging to both of you, you felt an overwhelming sense of contentment in his arms. It was as if the world outside didn't matter, and you had no desire to leave this warm, intimate embrace.
Alfie's warm breath tickled your ear as he whispered softly, "Just sleep, Dove."
You sighed, feeling both comforted and conflicted. "I can't stay the night, you know that, Alfie," you replied, your voice heavy with weariness.
His arms tightened around you slightly, pulling you closer. "I know, Dove. Just rest for now," he admitted, his voice tinged with longing.
The two of you lay there in silence for a while, the only sounds the soft rhythm of your breathing and the occasional rustle of leaves outside. The bond between you and Alfie had deepened over time, but there were still boundaries that couldn't be crossed, and you both understood that all too well.
⛓🥀⛓ As you stepped into the house, the scent of your mother's cooking enveloped you, and you found her in the kitchen, deftly chopping up a chicken. Her words drifted towards you, carrying curiosity and warmth.
"You've been going out a lot lately, dear. Have you met someone?" your mama inquired, her voice filled with maternal concern.
You hesitated for a moment, your mind racing to find the right words. "Uh, yeah. A friend," you finally replied, trying to sound casual.
A playful glint appeared in her eyes as she continued to work with the chicken. "Just a friend?" she teased, her tone teasingly insistent.
Your cheeks reddened slightly, and you cursed yourself for stuttering. "Y-yeah," you managed to say.
A thoughtful expression crossed your mother's face as she paused in her cooking. "Will I ever get to meet him?" she asked, her curiosity piqued.
You paused for a moment, weighing the idea in your mind. Alfie was undeniably much older and more intimidating than you had initially let on. The prospect of introducing him to your mom felt daunting, and you weren't sure if you were ready to take that step.
"I don't know," you replied, your voice tinged with uncertainty.
⛓🥀⛓ "Why don't we play a little game, yeah?" Alfie suggested with a sly grin, his eyes gleaming with mischief.
Alfie and you were sitting side by side on his bed, your legs stretched out comfortably across his own. The deep crimson dress clung to your every curve, the fabric soft against your skin. You couldn't help but smile as you remembered the day Alfie had given it to you. It was a symbol of his affection, a tangible reminder of the connection that had grown between you. x
"What kind of game?" You inquired, your curiosity piqued, though a hint of apprehension crept into your voice.
"Have you ever play tag?" Alfie asked, his gaze intent, locking onto yours.
You nodded slowly, recalling the childhood game and wondering where this was leading.
"Something like that... a little game where you run and hide, and I come hunt you," Alfie explained, his eyes taking on a more ominous hue, like a predator assessing its prey.
"Hunt?" You questioned, your surprise and growing unease evident in your voice.
"Yeah," Alfie replied, a chilling smile playing on his lips. "You've gotta try not to get caught."
The dark undertone in his words sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of danger.
"Well, how do I win, then? I can't just keep running forever," you chuckled nervously, attempting to ease the tension that had settled between you.
Alfie's eyes sparkled with a mischievous glint. "You've gotta make sure I don't catch you within an hour. If you manage that, you win."
A playful grin tugged at your lips as you teased, "And what's my prize if I win?"
Alfie's gaze deepened as he leaned in closer, his voice lowering to a husky murmur, "Anything you want, Dove."
Your heart raced at his enticing offer, and you couldn't resist pushing further, "And if you manage to catch me?"
Alfie's smirk grew more seductive, and he whispered with an alluring charm, "Then, my dear, I get to have my way with you until the hour's up."
A shiver ran up your spine at his suggestive words. You couldn't deny the allure of his proposal, tinged with danger and excitement. Despite the unease that still lingered in the back of your mind, you found yourself drawn to the challenge, to the thrill of the chase.
Alfie stepped back, giving you a bit of space as he added, "But don't worry, love, I'll give you a head start. You'll have five minutes to run and hide before I come after you."
Your heart raced with a mix of anticipation and trepidation as you nodded in agreement. The game had been set, and you were determined to give him a run for his money.
"Where are we playing this?" you asked, your eagerness apparent in your voice.
"In the woods," Alfie replied with a sly grin.
The woods. His territory. Your stomach flipped, knowing that the game was about to unfold in a place where Alfie held the advantage. Still, the thrill of the chase and the chance to outsmart him drove you forward.
You remained at Alfie's house, perched on the edge of anticipation and curiosity. The prospect of the upcoming game had your heart racing. As you glanced around the cosy interior, you couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. The woods loomed just beyond the walls, a constant reminder of where the game would take place.
Alfie stood up, his eyes fixed on you with an intensity that made your breath catch. His earlier proposition, filled with suggestive promise, hung in the air between you like an unspoken challenge. You had accepted, partly driven by a desire to win but also intrigued by the enigmatic man before you.
With a subtle nod, Alfie led you toward the door that opened up to the thick woods surrounding his house. As you stepped outside, the atmosphere shifted instantly. The air felt cooler, and the sounds of nature enveloped you. The forest seemed to come alive with rustling leaves and distant chirping birds.
Alfie leaned casually against the door frame, the confident tilt of his head making him seem all the more enigmatic. He reached into his pocket, retrieving a gleaming pocket watch. With a slow, deliberate movement, he handed it over to you. The polished surface of the watch reflected the muted light filtering through the trees, and you couldn't help but admire the craftsmanship before flipping it open.
The intricate watch face displayed the time: 3:58. Your heart quickened as you observed the minutes ticking away. Alfie's voice brought you back to the present, his words dripping with both anticipation and amusement.
"When that clock hits 4, my little Dove," he whispered, his voice a seductive murmur, "you have an hour to run."
With those final words, Alfie pushed away from the door frame, his eyes locked onto yours. The gravity of the challenge settled over you like a cloak, and you knew that the next hour would be a test of both your wits and your ability to evade the captivating and elusive man who had lured you into this game.
Alfie closed the door behind him, leaving you alone to contemplate the impending challenge. The quietude of the room seemed to amplify the ticking of the pocket watch in your hand. Each second that passed felt like an eternity, and you could feel the weight of the forthcoming game pressing down on you.
With a deep breath, you steeled yourself for what lay ahead. The allure of the hunt, the thrill of the chase, and the enigmatic Alfie waiting beyond the door all combined to create a heady mixture of excitement and trepidation. As the watch's second hand inched ever closer to the hour mark, your heart raced, and you prepared to embark on a game that would test the boundaries of your fear and desire.
Looking down at your bare feet, you briefly contemplated the idea of grabbing your shoes, only to remember that you had worn your nice ones. The elegant footwear might be fitting for a stroll in the garden but would be wholly unsuitable for the game you were about to play. You decided that going barefoot would be the better option, even if it meant navigating the forest's uneven terrain without the protection of shoes.
3:59.
Looking down at your wine-red dress, you couldn't help but curse yourself for your choice of attire. It was a beautiful garment, but utterly impractical for blending into the woods. You'd stick out like a sore thumb, and that realisation left you with no other option – running was your best bet. A tingling sensation of anticipation coursed through your body as the seconds ticked away, each moment edging closer to the start of the game.
30 seconds.
As you stood there, the seconds on the pocket watch ticking away, your heart raced in anticipation. The last few seconds felt like an eternity. Every passing moment heightened your sense of excitement and trepidation. You could hear the faint rustling of leaves outside, a soft breeze whispering through the trees, as if nature itself were conspiring with Alfie in this exhilarating game.
With each tick of the watch, your breathing quickened, and your thoughts raced. The reality of what was about to happen washed over you. You were about to embark on a thrilling chase through the woods, pursued by the enigmatic and seductive Alfie. It was a dangerous game, but the exhilaration was undeniable.
At last, the final moments arrived. The watch's minute hand reached 12, marking the hour, and the second hand swept past 60. With a deep breath and a racing heart, you pushed yourself off the door and stepped out into the woods, ready to begin this electrifying game of cat and mouse with Alfie.
The forest seemed to close in around you as you sprinted without hesitation. Your footsteps were swift and purposeful, and although fear coursed through your veins, you couldn't deny the exhilaration that came with the adrenaline pumping through your body. Each stride you took was filled with determination, propelling you deeper into the woods.
The tangled underbrush and uneven terrain made each step a challenge, but you pushed forward, your instincts guiding you to choose the best path. The sound of leaves crunching beneath your feet echoed in the quiet forest, and your breaths came in rapid bursts, mingling with the crisp air.
Every now and then, you cast a fleeting glance over your shoulder, half expecting to see Alfie already hot on your heels. The thought of him chasing you through the woods added an extra layer of excitement to your sprint, and it was as if you were living out a thrilling fantasy.
The minutes ticked by, but you kept running, pushing your limits, determined not to be caught before the hour was up.
As you navigated the hilly terrain, the constant ups and downs made it impossible to catch a glimpse of the house. It had disappeared from your view entirely, hidden behind the thick foliage and undulating landscape. The forest around you was a labyrinth of trees and shadows, and you couldn't help but feel a growing sense of isolation.
With each step you took, the distance between you and Alfie increased, and you couldn't shake the feeling that you were truly alone in this vast, mysterious forest. The sense of freedom and exhilaration mingled with a creeping unease, and you couldn't help but wonder if you were the hunter or the hunted in this dangerous game.
Your breaths came out in heavy puffs as you gradually slowed down to a brisk walk, stealing a glance at the pocket watch clutched tightly in your hand.
4:03.
A rush of excitement coursed through your veins. In just two minutes, Alfie would be released, ready to hunt you down. With a touch of luck, you hoped he would head in the opposite direction from where you had run, giving you a precious head start in this heart-pounding game of survival.
As you continued your brisk walk, the forest around you seemed to close in, the tangled trees forming a canopy that obscured the sky. Every rustle of leaves and snap of twigs made your heart race, imagining Alfie lurking behind every shadowy tree. The woods were dense, filled with hidden paths, and you hoped to lose him in the labyrinthine tangle of nature.
4:05.
Glancing at the time on the pocket watch, you felt your heart leap into your throat. You finally stopped and crouched behind a large, gnarled oak tree, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. Silence surrounded you, broken only by the sounds of your own rapid breathing. Your eyes darted to the pocket watch. Two minutes had passed, and Alfie was now unleashed.
Your ears strained for any sign of movement, any clue to Alfie's whereabouts. The anticipation was excruciating as you braced yourself for the chase that was about to begin. Time was your ally and your enemy, and you knew that the stakes were high in this game of hide and seek.
The tension in the air was palpable as you crouched behind the tree, your breaths coming in shallow, hushed gasps. Hiding had not been your initial strategy, but the weight of the game had settled on your shoulders, and you couldn't help but feel as though every tree, every rustling leaf, had eyes fixed upon you.
A sense of urgency compelled you to move, to put as much distance as possible between yourself and Alfie, but your limbs felt strangely uncooperative. Fear and excitement intermingled within you, creating a heady cocktail of emotions that made your body feel both heavy and electrified. You knew that the next hour would test not only your physical endurance but also your mental fortitude as you tried to outwit the enigmatic man who pursued you through the labyrinthine forest.
As you finally picked yourself up from the forest floor, a sense of cautious relief washed over you. The tree that had concealed you moments ago now lay behind, and a sweeping glance of your surroundings revealed no immediate sign of Alfie. You let out an unsteady breath, the cool air filling your lungs as you ventured deeper into the forest.
Each step you took was measured, your senses heightened to every rustle of leaves and snap of twigs. The woods, a place of serenity just moments before, now harboured an atmosphere of tension. With each cautious step, you crept further into the heart of the forest, your eyes scanning for any hint of movement or sound that might betray Alfie's presence. The thrill of the game coursed through your veins, mingling with your sense of unease. The forest had transformed into an enigmatic labyrinth, and you were determined to navigate its challenges, no matter what lay ahead.
4:16.
Your cautious exploration of the forest continued, each footfall echoing with your apprehension. The minutes stretched on, and you couldn't shake the feeling that Alfie could appear at any moment. Despite your determination to stay alert, your legs began to grow weary, their protest a reminder of the physical toll your fear was taking on you.
You couldn't help but wonder why your stamina seemed to be dwindling faster than you expected. Perhaps it was the relentless anxiety that had been building since the start of this game, or the constant adrenaline coursing through your veins. Regardless, you couldn't afford to let exhaustion overtake you now. With a deep breath, you steeled yourself to push forward, determined to outlast Alfie and claim victory in this twisted game of cat and mouse.
Your gaze swept upward to the towering trees that surrounded you. The thought crossed your mind: would climbing a tree be considered cheating? It was a tempting idea, a way to gain an advantage in this high-stakes game of pursuit and evasion. But the rules of this perilous game were unclear, and you had no guarantee that Alfie wouldn't do the same. The woods were his domain, and you were merely a player in his twisted game.
As you stood at the base of the towering tree, your gaze wandered up its formidable trunk, tracing the intricate network of roots that snaked across the forest floor like nature's own artwork. The bark, rough and textured beneath your fingertips, provided an unexpected comfort as you began your climb. The tree's ancient branches, strong and gnarled, offered a labyrinthine path upwards, guiding you like an old friend leading you through a secret world.
The initial ascent was a thrilling challenge, the sensation of your hands gripping bark and your feet finding purchase on the uneven surface exhilarating. Your heart raced with a mixture of excitement and trepidation as you ascended further into the forest canopy. Each foothold and handhold seemed to have been crafted by nature herself, and your nimble movements belied your initial hesitation.
Eventually, you reached a stable branch that cradled you like a natural throne. A dense canopy of leaves arched above, forming a verdant umbrella that concealed you from prying eyes below. It was here, perched amid the rustling leaves and filtered sunlight, that you felt a surge of triumphant relief. The forest stretched out beneath you like an unexplored realm, and for now, you were its hidden observer. A sense of victory washed over you as you caught your breath, but the game's suspense still lingered, a subtle undercurrent to your newfound sanctuary.
As you perched in your leafy hideout, the vibrant emerald foliage surrounded you, creating a natural fortress. The tree's rough bark pressed against your skin, grounding you in this newfound sanctuary. The forest below sprawled out like an endless tapestry of greens and browns, with sunlight filtering through the dense canopy, dappling the ground in shifting patterns of light and shadow.
From your lofty position, you could see the intricate dance of leaves, swaying gently in the breeze, and hear the distant murmurs of the forest's inhabitants. The woods seemed like a world of its own, a secret realm where you had temporarily taken refuge.
4:32.
Minutes passed like a languid river, each second stretching out into an eternity. The mischievous giggle that had escaped your lips earlier now seemed like a distant memory, replaced by the solemn realisation that this game was far more intense than you had initially imagined. Despite the temporary respite, the thrill of the chase continued to course through your veins, and the sense of impending discovery hung heavy in the air.
You remained perched among the leaves, your breaths coming slow and measured, every rustle and creak of the forest making you jump with anticipation. The minutes dragged on, and doubt began to creep into your mind. What if I can’t get down? What if Aflie has already given up looking? Despite the uncertainty, you couldn't bring yourself to climb down just yet. The adrenaline, the fear, and the excitement had woven themselves into a complex tapestry that you couldn't easily unravel.
A bored sigh escaped your lips as you leaned your head against the tree. You couldn't help but admit that your own choices had contributed to your growing boredom. Instead of actively exploring the forest and keeping up the pace, you had opted for a more passive strategy, perched up a tree like a lazy observer.
Frustration welled up inside you as you berated yourself for not being more proactive. This game was your chance to outsmart Alfie, to prove that you could evade his pursuit, and yet here you were, feeling like you were squandering your advantage. With a renewed sense of determination, you pushed away from the tree, resolved to rejoin the hunt and claim the upper hand once more.
Your fleeting moment of bravery quickly gave way to uncertainty as you looked down from your treetop refuge. Questions flooded your mind: What if Alfie walks past while I’m climbing down? You couldn't help but curse your own hesitation and perceived cowardice.
Glancing at the nearby trees, you began to wonder about the possibilities. How close was that tree over there? The idea of moving from tree to tree might seem foolish, but in your anxious state, it also felt like a potential advantage. The forest's canopy appeared interconnected, offering the chance for you to remain hidden while on the move. With a mix of apprehension and determination, you decided to cautiously explore this daring idea, hoping it would pay off and give you an edge in the game.
Balancing on the sturdy branch, you gripped another limb for stability. With careful steps, you inched your way along the branch, approaching the intertwining branches of nearby trees.
As you moved, the leaves rustled softly beneath your feet, and a slight breeze tousled your hair. The forest around you seemed to come alive with the sounds of birds singing and leaves whispering secrets to one another. The sensation of being suspended among the trees filled you with a strange mix of exhilaration and trepidation.
Reaching the second tree, you let out a sigh of relief, feeling a renewed sense of confidence. The pocket watch Alfie had entrusted you with felt like a comforting weight in your hand. You flipped it open to check the time, the delicate ticking of its mechanism filling your ears as you saw the numbers.
4:37.
As you checked the pocket watch again, you noted with a sense of relief that not much time had passed since your last glance. The tiny, delicate hands of the watch revealed that there were only 23 more minutes left. A surge of determination coursed through you as you continued to strategize your next moves, determined to stay one step ahead of Alfie.
Your momentary celebration was cut short by a distant sound, faint yet unmistakable – footsteps. Panic surged through you, causing your breath to hitch. Clutching the tree trunk tightly, you tilted your head to the side to peer past it. There, in the dim distance, a moving silhouette came into focus – it was Alfie.
Fear coursing through your veins, you wasted no time. Quickly, you darted behind the tree for cover, your heart pounding in your chest as you hoped against hope that Alfie hadn't spotted you.
Panic surged through your mind, your thoughts racing at a frantic pace. Desperately, you clung to the tree, hugging its rough bark as if it were your only lifeline. Your silent prayer was for the leaves to be your saviours, concealing you from Alfie's searching gaze. You cursed your choice of attire, realising that your dress was making this whole ordeal much more challenging.
The deliberate and predatory sound of Alfie's footsteps grew louder with each passing moment, sending shivers of fear coursing through your body. His approaching presence felt suffocating, and the thought of him drawing closer to the very tree you were hiding in couldn't be worse luck. Your heart raced, and you pressed yourself tighter against the tree, desperately hoping that the leaves and branches would continue to shield you from his view.
With trembling hands, you quickly tucked the flowing fabric of your dress between your legs, holding it in place to prevent it from billowing out and giving away your position. The soft rustling of leaves and the distant sound of his footsteps filled the air as Alfie drew nearer, and you knew that remaining still and hidden was your only chance of evading his pursuit.
As you moved stealthily around the tree, you couldn't tear your eyes away from him. His predatory aura seemed to grow stronger, sending a shiver down your spine. Every step he took was calculated and deliberate, and the intensity of his presence felt suffocating. You pressed yourself tightly against the rough bark, your breath shallow and your heart pounding in your chest.
The seconds felt like hours as you watched him, hoping against hope that he would move on. The fear inside you churned, and you prayed that your hiding spot among the leaves and branches would keep you concealed. The tension in the air was palpable, and the forest seemed to hold its breath, as if aware that something pivotal was about to happen.
Your breath caught in your throat, and with legs trembling like leaves in the wind, you cautiously and silently shuffled around the thick trunk to the opposite side, all the while keeping your fearful gaze locked on him.
Your eyes remained fixated on Alfie, watching his every move with rapt attention. His actions became more intriguing by the moment. He seemed lost in deep contemplation, slowly turning in place as if searching for something. A sense of unease washed over you as you noticed his deep, deliberate breaths, drawn in through his nose. It was as though he were sniffing the air, his senses acutely attuned to the surroundings.
Dread crept over you like a shadow, and you dared not make a sound. What was he searching for? Has he caught a trace of your presence? The forest seemed to hold its breath along with you, and the suspense was almost unbearable. Each passing moment felt like an eternity as you waited in fearful anticipation of his next move.
Your rational mind tried to reassure you that it was impossible for him to detect your scent from your elevated perch. Even with a hint of perfume, you were far too high above the ground, and the brisk wind that rustled the leaves masked any fragrance that might have given you away. But despite your logical reasoning, a gnawing sense of uncertainty persisted, like a seed of doubt taking root in your mind. The adrenaline coursing through your veins was a stark reminder that, in this thrilling and perilous game, anything could happen.
His frustration was palpable, etching lines of irritation onto his face. A low growl rumbled from his throat, a guttural sound that carried through the forest. The sight and sound of his growing exasperation sent a shiver down your spine, intensifying the heart-pounding fear that coursed through your veins. In that moment, you realised just how determined he was to catch you, and the danger of this deadly game became all too real.
With a simmering anger that seemed to radiate from his very being, you could see Alfie stomp off into the distance, his movements filled with frustration and pent-up aggression. It felt as though a tremendous weight had been lifted from your shoulders as he moved farther away, leaving you with a sense of profound relief. You silently thanked the heavens for his failure to look up, realising that you had narrowly escaped his clutches for the time being.
4:41.
After a considerable pause, you carefully decided that the best course of action was to climb down from the tree and run off in the opposite direction Alife had just gone. The rough bark scraped against your hands as you carefully manoeuvred down, your muscles tense with the anticipation of every creak and rustle of leaves underfoot. The forest seemed to hold its breath as you lowered yourself to the ground, your mind racing with thoughts of how to outwit the relentless predator who was still in the vicinity. The earth felt cool beneath your bare feet as you finally touched down, and you took a moment to survey your surroundings, keenly aware that every second counted.
4:46
As your feet touched the ground, you couldn't help but release a sigh of relief, feeling the solidity of the earth beneath your bare soles. Your steps became increasingly careless, almost triumphant, as you ventured away from the tree. In that moment, you tasted the sweet flavour of victory, knowing there were less than 15 minutes remaining before the game concluded. The thought that Alfie was likely wandering somewhere deep within the forest heightened your sense of triumph, and you walked with newfound confidence.
Oh, but how wrong you were.
"Was my little Dove hiding in the trees?" he taunted, his gaze filled with a predatory gleam that made your stomach churn with dread.
Your heart skipped a beat at the sound of Alfie's voice, the very voice that had once been a source of comfort and charm, now laced with a sinister edge. His sudden appearance sent a shiver down your spine as you turned to face him, your momentary triumph fading into the chilling realisation that he had found you.
Your head whipped around, and there, standing behind a tree not far from you, was Alfie. He had never left; he had been lurking in the shadows the entire time. A cocky smile played on his lips as he watched your startled reaction, revelling in the thrill of the hunt.
With a quick turn, you bolted in the opposite direction, your heart pounding as adrenaline surged through your veins. It was just a game, but the thrill of being chased was undeniably exhilarating. Alfie was undoubtedly a big man and didn't hesitate to use it to his advantage. His hearty laugh echoed through the woods as he gave chase, his powerful strides closing the gap between you. The forest around you blurred as you ran, the world reduced to the sound of your rapid breaths and the pounding of your heart.
The pounding of your heart seemed to reverberate in your ears as you sprinted through the dense woods, knowing that Alfie was hot on your tail. The fear that coursed through you was almost paralysing, and you dared not look back to see how close he was. The branches and underbrush seemed to claw at your clothes and skin as you pushed yourself to run faster, your breaths coming in ragged gasps. The thrill of the chase mixed with the dread of being caught, creating a maelstrom of emotions that left you both terrified and exhilarated.
In an instant, Alfie's strong and relentless grip closed around you, and you let out a piercing scream as he tackled you to the ground. The impact was sudden and jarring, and the forest floor pressed against your back, stealing the breath from your lungs. The fear that had been simmering just below the surface now erupted in a torrent of panic, and you struggled against his hold, desperately trying to break free.
"Now, Dove... I won. That means..." Alfie paused, reaching into his pocket and withdrawing the pocket watch once more. He flipped it open and peered at the time. "I have 12 minutes to have my fun with you." His voice held a sinister edge, and a cold chill settled in the pit of your stomach as you realised the consequences of losing the game.
Your body ignited with a mixture of emotions as Alfie's words sank in. Without hesitation, he closed the gap between you, his lips capturing yours in a searing kiss. His mouth was hot and demanding, pulling you into a fiery embrace that left you breathless and overwhelmed. As Alfie continued to kiss you passionately, his hands roamed over your body. Your initial fear and resistance began to wane, giving way to a heady mix of desire and surrender.
His lips left yours to trail a path of heated kisses along your jawline and down your neck, sending shivers of pleasure through your body. You couldn't help but gasp in response to his skilled touch.
Alfie's voice, rough and seductive, whispered into your ear, "You belong to me, little Dove. Always have..”
Alfies predatory presence gave you an overwhelming sensation of fear and desire. Your heart raced, and your mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions as Alfie continued his passionate assault.
His hands, firm yet gentle, explored every curve of your body, leaving a trail of heat and anticipation in their wake. It was as though he knew every secret, every hidden desire, and he was determined to awaken them all.
Your breaths came in ragged gasps, and you surrendered to the intoxication of the moment. As Alfie's lips sought yours once more, your world narrowed down to the sensations he elicited, and the minutes slipped away, taking you deeper into the enticing darkness of his touch.
Alfie felt the urgency mounting as he realised that time was slipping away, and there was so much he wanted to do in this brief window. The minutes were ticking by, each one more precious than the last.
Alfie yanked up your dress, dragging the fabric past your hips, exposing your cotton underwear and bare thighs to his piercing gaze. A mix of excitement and anticipation coursed through you as you surrendered to Alfie's desires, knowing that he had only a few precious minutes left to claim you in every way he desired.
Your breath hitched as Alfie's hands roved over your exposed skin, leaving trails of fire in their wake. Every touch, every brush of his lips against your neck, sent shivers of pleasure coursing through your body. With each passing second, the urgency between the two of you escalated, driving you both to the edge of ecstasy.
You sensed the battle within Alfie, as he struggled to contain his primal desires. The intensity in his gaze grew more fervent, and you could see his self-control slowly slipping away like sand through his fingers.
“Come on, Alfie..10 minutes.” You spoke with a whispered tease, you encouraged him to give in to his deepest cravings, to let go of restraint and unleash the passion that had been building between you.
At that moment, Alfie's restaurant shattered like fragile glass. His movements became more urgent, his grasp on your body tighter. The air crackled with anticipation as he surrendered to the raw hunger that consumed him. With a primal growl, he claimed you completely, losing himself in the intoxicating dance of pleasure and desire.
Alfie's kisses became frantic, his lips hungrily exploring every inch of your exposed skin. His hands roamed feverishly, gripping your body possessively as if he couldn't get enough. Each touch, each kiss was sloppy yet intoxicating, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. In his fervour, Alfie lost himself in the depths of raw desire, consumed by the need to indulge in the forbidden pleasure that consumed the both of you.
Senses heightened, time seemed to freeze as Alfie pressed his throbbing length against your clothed entrance. The friction ignited a blaze of desire, fueling the intensity of the moment. Your bodies moved in sync, locked in a passionate rhythm that defied all reason. The world around you faded as you surrendered to the intoxicating pleasure, consumed by the electric connection that pulsed between you.
Lost in a haze of unfathomable pleasure, the world around you blurred into obscurity. You let your head fall back on the damp leaves, busking in the pleasure Alfie was bringing you. All that mattered was the maddening sensation of Alfie's lips on your neck, sending tendrils of electric bliss coursing through your veins. As his hips moved with a desperate urgency, each motion amplified the intensity of pleasure, forging an unbreakable connection that fueled the ecstasy between you.
“My pretty little Dove likes when I play with her on the filthy ground, yeah?."
Eyes filled with an adoring passion, Alfie whispered praises against your skin, each word a testament to the power of your connection. In between gasps and moans, he exalted your beauty, your alluring presence that had mesmerised him from the very beginning. His fervent admiration fueled the fire within, intensifying the pleasure that engulfed you both, as you became lost in a world where only the two of you existed.
As the heat of desire consumed you, your legs instinctively wrapped around Alfie's hips, locking you in an intimate embrace. With each movement, clothed areas rubbed against each other, igniting waves of pleasure that surged through your bodies. The friction intensified, amplifying the sensations that coursed through every fibre of your being. In this euphoric dance, you and Alfie surrendered to the primal urges, losing yourselves in a symphony of pleasure and desire.
“You’re mine, pretty..you’re mine and I’m never gonna let you go.” he gently bit your earlobe.
Surging with an overwhelming hunger, Alfie's lips trailed down from your ear, leaving a blazing path of fiery kisses. His teeth grazed your delicate skin, marking you with his possessive desire. The sensation of his lips and tongue against your neck ignited a wildfire within, consuming your senses and leaving you yearning for more of his intoxicating touch.
As Alfie rutted into your sensitive core with a primal intensity, the ache of desire built to an unbearable peak. Every thrust brought you closer to the edge, the intensity mounting with each passing moment. Your body tensed, on the precipice of release, as a symphony of pleasure reverberated through every inch of your being, ready to explode in a crescendo of ecstasy.
“A-Alfie, Alfie! I’m so fucking close,” your voice trembled with need.
The blissful torment of ecstasy radiated through your veins, intensifying with each passing second. Uncontrollable moans escaped your parted lips, mingling with the rhythm of your bodies, a testament to the overwhelming pleasure that consumed you.
4:58.
Unable to resist the intoxicating sound of your voice, Alfie quickened his pace, his movements becoming more fervent as he relentlessly chased your climax. The air crackled with a palpable energy as your bodies moved in sync, a symphony of desire and pleasure.
“Come on, sweetie.” Alfie encouraged you. “You can do it. Let go.”
With a voice dripping in encouragement, Alfie's words propelled you further towards the edge of euphoria. Every syllable he uttered was laced with a magnetic force that urged you to surrender to the waves of pleasure crashing through your body. The weight of his words pushed you past your limits, releasing all inhibitions as you succumbed to the overwhelming ecstasy building within.
In a breathless moment of pure ecstasy, you shattered, your whole being consumed by an overwhelming release that left you gasping for air and utterly spent, lost in the blissful aftershocks of pleasure.
As the echoes of your climax still reverberated through your body, Alfie's relentless grinding fueled the flames of desire within you. His determination to reach his own release only intensified the raw passion between you, the friction electrifying the air. With each grinding motion, you felt the tension building, his pursuit of pleasure mirroring your own, until finally, with a guttural moan, he found his release, the intensity of his orgasm echoing the powerful connection you shared.
As the echoes of pleasure subsided, you were left throbbing with heightened sensitivity, your body pulsating with every heartbeat. Waves of pleasure coursed through your clit as it throbbed, yearning for more stimulation, while your empty hole ached, a reminder of the intense pleasure that had consumed you. The lingering sensation kept you suspended in a state of euphoria, aching for the next touch, the next moment of bliss.
Breathless and consumed by the aftermath of your passionate encounter, Alfie showered gentle kisses on your shoulders, his lips a tender caress against your heated skin. The soft touch of his affectionate gestures contrasted beautifully with the fiery intensity that had consumed you moments ago. Then, with a loving gaze, he leaned in, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss that spoke of his adoration and desire, imprinting the moment in your memory as a testament to the deep connection you shared.
"That was certainly...different," you replied with a chuckle, still trying to catch your breath.
Alfie rose from the ground and extended a hand to help you up. He gently brushed down your skirt, getting rid of any dirt and leaves that clung to it.
"A fucking good game, that's what I'd call it," Alfie quipped with a smirk, his eyes twinkling mischievously.
"Are you feeling alright?" Alfie inquired with a hint of concern. You nodded and gave his hand a reassuring squeeze as he led you back towards his house. The journey back was a comfortable one, filled with the shared excitement of the day's adventure and the unspoken connection that seemed to deepen with each passing moment.
⛓🥀⛓ "Fuck, I'm knackered," you exclaimed, collapsing onto Alfie's bed.
He chuckled, joining you and settling down beside you.
Alfie looked at you, a playful glint in his eyes. "Well, it's been quite a day, hasn't it, little Dove?"
You couldn't help but smile in response, the events of the day still fresh in your mind. "It certainly has, Alfie."
He reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair away from your face. "You know, I can't help but think we make a good fucking couple, you and I."
Your heart skipped a beat at his words, and you found yourself drawn to him, the magnetic pull between you undeniable. "Yes, Alfie, we do."
Alfie leaned in and pressed his lips to yours in a gentle, lingering kiss. His touch sends shivers down your spine, and you find yourself yearning for more, but practicality still holds sway.
"Just sleep, okay.”
"I can't, Alfie," you whispered, your breath slightly uneven. "My mama will be waiting for me at home."
His brows furrowed at the mention of your mother, but you chose to disregard it for the moment. "Then I'll wake you in 30 minutes," he replied softly, his fingers tracing light patterns on your cheek.
You let out a small sigh, giving in to his persistence. "Alright," you said, a playful glint in your eye. "But you better make sure to wake me up."
Alfie's lips curved into a satisfied smile as you relented, and he leaned in closer, brushing a soft kiss across your forehead. "Don't you worry, Dove," he murmured. "I'll make sure you get up on time." With that, he settled beside you, and you felt a sense of warmth and security enveloping you as you drifted off to sleep in his arms.
⛓🥀⛓ You were standing alone in a dense, eerily silent forest. The towering trees loomed overhead, their branches entwined like skeletal fingers reaching out to you. The moon cast an eerie pallor on the surroundings, rendering everything in shades of grey. A cold, misty fog slithered between the trees, obscuring your vision.
As you began to walk cautiously through the forest, a feeling of foreboding settled in your chest. The ground beneath your feet felt soft and unstable, as if it could give way at any moment. You tried to call out, but your voice was muffled by the oppressive silence.
In the distance, you could hear faint, chilling whispers that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere all at once. These whispers carried fragments of your own fears and anxieties, like a twisted chorus of your inner demons.
As you pressed on, you noticed a figure in the distance. It was obscured by the fog, but you could sense its presence, an unsettling aura that seemed to draw you closer against your will. With every step, the whispers grew louder, the forest darker, and the figure more menacing.
Finally, you reached the figure, and as the mist began to dissipate, you saw its face—distorted, shifting, and finally revealing itself as a grotesque amalgamation of all the fears and uncertainties that had been plaguing you.
⛓🥀⛓ As you stirred from your restless sleep at Alfie's house, the first glimmers of dawn painted the room in a soft, pale light. Panic gripped your heart as you realised you had slept through the night, far longer than you had ever intended. Your mother, you thought with growing anxiety, must have been frantic with worry for your safety. Guilt weighed heavy on your chest as you imagined the hours she had spent, imagining the worst.
The room was silent, devoid of any clues about Alfie's whereabouts. You called out his name, your voice quivering with a mix of anxiety and confusion, but received no response. With every passing moment, the sense of unease deepened, leaving you with an eerie feeling that something had changed in the blink of an eye. Still, the pressing need to reassure your worried mother eclipsed any other concerns. Gathering your belongings hastily, you made your way to the door, your heart pounding as you prepared to confront whatever awaited you at home, unaware of the chilling truth that would soon shatter your world.
As you descended the creaking wooden staircase, your voice echoed through the once-familiar hallways, but there was no response, not even the faintest rustle to indicate Alfie's presence. The eerie silence seemed to have seeped into every corner of your home, casting an unsettling feeling over the place. You couldn't help but worry about your mother's reaction to your unexpected absence, especially given her concern for your safety.
"Alfie?" you called again, a touch of desperation creeping into your voice. The idea of venturing into the forest alone at night was daunting, and the thought gnawed at the edges of your resolve, making you hesitate at the threshold of the open door. The inky darkness outside seemed more menacing than ever, and you couldn't shake the feeling that something had changed, something you couldn't quite put your finger on.
The heavy, ominous sounds from outside froze you in your tracks, anxiety clawing at your chest. Your initial fear that it might be a wild dog or some other menacing presence lingered like a shadow, preventing you from daring to venture out into the unknown. However, when the shrill, piercing scream of a little boy pierced the air, your heart plummeted to the pit of your stomach, and panic gripped you like a vice. Your thoughts raced, torn between fear and a growing sense of responsibility, leaving you paralyzed with uncertainty, not knowing how to react to the distressing cries echoing through the night.
The scream pierced through the night, chilling you to the bone. It was unmistakably the cry of a child, filled with terror and desperation. Panic gripped your heart as you tried to make sense of the horrifying sound. Your mind raced with conflicting thoughts, torn between your fear of the unknown outside and the instinctual urge to help someone in distress.
You hesitated for only a moment before a surge of courage propelled you forward. Carefully, you inched closer to the window, peering outside into the inky blackness. Moonlight barely pierced the thick canopy of trees, casting eerie shadows that danced like spectres in the night. The forest appeared more ominous than ever, but the cries of the child pushed you to take action.
With trembling hands, you grabbed a lantern from a nearby table, lighting it with a match. The soft glow illuminated your determined face as you steeled yourself for what lay ahead.
The heart-wrenching screams outside were impossible to ignore, tugging at your very soul. Yet, along with your concern for the helpless child, a profound sense of foreboding gripped you. The chilling possibility loomed that this horrifying ordeal might be linked to the elusive and dreaded figure the townsfolk whispered about—the so-called "boogeyman." Balancing the fear for your own safety with the moral obligation to help, you felt trapped in a nightmarish dilemma, caught between the unknown and the undeniable cries for help echoing through the forest.
Grabbing the shotgun at the front door and tightly gripping it in your trembling hands, you burst out of the house and sprinted towards the source of the child's screams. The horrifying sounds continued to reverberate in your ears until, abruptly, they ceased, plunging the night into an eerie silence. Tears brimmed your eyes. Your heart raced, and you slowed your pace, straining your senses to pick up any telltale signs. What met your ears was the gruesome, gut-wrenching sound of crunching, a sound that could only be attributed to something unspeakably dreadful happening to the poor boy. Fear and determination mingled within you as you pressed forward, ready to confront the unimaginable.
With the lantern casting flickering shadows around you, you clutched the shotgun with both hands, your fingers trembling uncontrollably. Each step you took towards the back of the house felt like an eternity, your heart pounding louder with every passing second. The darkness seemed to grow thicker, and you hesitated, torn between the compulsion to face the unknown and the instinct to flee. But you couldn't turn away; you had to know. Taking a deep breath, you inched around the corner, your body tense and ready to react.
The sight that greeted you was nothing short of nightmarish. In the dim glow of the lantern, you saw a large, grotesque creature, its form so twisted and inhuman that words failed to describe it adequately. Yet, one detail stood out starkly— it was feeding. Your blood ran cold as you witnessed the horror unfolding before you, the creature indulging in an unspeakable act that sent chills down your spine. Your grip on the shotgun tightened, your trembling hands steadying as you faced the unimaginable.
As you stood there, frozen in disbelief and fear, the impossible happened before your eyes. The grotesque creature you had confronted began to contort and shift, its body creaking and cracking as it transformed. Slowly, it shrank and twisted until it took on a more recognizable human form. Your heart hammered in your chest as you watched in awe and terror, unable to comprehend the unnatural metamorphosis.
But as the figure became clearer in the dim light of the lantern around the side of the house, your breath caught in your throat. It was a person—a man. A shiver ran down your spine as you recognized the face, the eyes, and the unmistakable presence. His eyes, once warm and familiar, now bore an unsettling emptiness that sent a chill down your spine. Alfie's dishevelled appearance was a stark contrast to the man you had grown close to, and the realisation that he had been living a double life filled you with a mixture of dread and betrayal. The terror of the forest, the creature inhumanity, it had all been an act, a facade expertly maintained to conceal his true identity.
The gruesome sight before you, the blood-smeared face of Alfie, and the remnants of the innocent child left you frozen in shock. You couldn't fathom the horrors that had unfolded right in front of you, and the weight of the situation bore down on your shoulders.
"Alfie, what have you done?" Your voice quivered as you finally found the courage to speak, a mixture of fear, confusion, and anger coursing through your veins.
Alfie's expression shifted from one of cold indifference to a genuine surprise as he locked eyes with you. His blood-stained lips parted slightly, as if he was struggling to find words. For the first time since you'd met him, you had managed to catch him off guard, and the realisation that you had seen him in this monstrous form left him visibly shaken.
You could feel the tension in the air, your heart pounding as you stood there, gun trembling in your hands. Everything you thought you knew about Alfie had been shattered in an instant, and you were left with a chilling sense of dread and uncertainty.
"Dove?" Alfie's voice wavered, and he raised his hands in a mock display of innocence.
As you watched him take slow, deliberate steps towards you, fear surged through your veins. Without thinking, you turned on your heels and began to sprint. The shotgun slipped from your grasp as you bolted through the dense forest, your heart pounding with terror.
"Now, hang on just a second, Y/n," Alfie's voice quivered with desperation, each word laden with urgency, as he reached out toward your retreating form.
"Get away from me!"
Your scream pierced through the forest, a shrill note of sheer terror that echoed among the trees. Your heart raced uncontrollably, hammering against your chest like a caged bird desperately seeking freedom. You struggled to escape Alfie's grasp, your movements fueled by a primal fear that threatened to consume you.
Blood continued to drip from Alfie's mouth, staining his lips a gruesome, unsettling crimson. His face contorted with anguish and despair, and he held his trembling hand up in a feeble attempt to appear innocent. But it was a futile gesture; you had seen the monstrous truth of what he had become.
As you darted further into the dense forest, your breath came in ragged gasps, and your surroundings seemed to blur into a frenzied collage of trees and shadows. Alfie's anguished calls reverberated through the woods, each word dripping with desperation and pleading. However, the image of his dark transformation had been etched indelibly into your mind, a horrifying revelation that she couldn't easily erase or forgive. You knew that the monstrous secret you had witnessed would forever haunt you.
Your heart raced as you stumbled through the thick underbrush of the forest, your breaths ragged and your mind a chaotic whirlwind of fear and confusion. Your eyes darted frantically from one shadowy tree to the next, searching for any sign of safety or escape.
"Y/n, you're not understanding," Alfie's voice echoed through the trees, but this time, there was a sinister edge to it, a veiled threat that sent shivers down your spine.
You refused to stop, refused to listen. Your legs carried her deeper into the forest, away from the looming figure that haunted your nightmares.
But just as you thought you might escape, a sudden burst of movement from behind made you stumble forward. Strong arms encircled your waist, and you were yanked back against a solid, unyielding chest.
Alfie's grip was like iron, his fingers digging into your skin. His voice, once soothing and charming, now dripped with malevolence as he whispered into your ear, "You can't run from me, little Dove. You belong to me."
Your heart pounded in your chest, and you struggled against his grasp, your terror giving you newfound strength. "Let me go!" you cried out, your voice quivering but resolute.
Alfie's laughter was a chilling sound that echoed through the forest. "You think you can escape the Boogeyman? You think you can escape me?"
Desperation fueled your fight as you continued to struggle, your mind racing for a way out of this nightmare. You knew you had to find help, someone who could protect you from the monster that had once seemed so charming and inviting. But escaping the clutches of the Boogeyman was no simple task, this was the monster that haunted the entire village.
"Please, let me go," you sobbed, your voice quivering with fear and desperation.
Tears cascaded down your face, their saltiness mingling with the perspiration that had gathered on your forehead. Alfie's unrelenting hold encircled you, his formidable arms enveloping your trembling form. A chilling shiver ran down your spine as his lips pressed forcefully against your temple, leaving a nauseating reminder of the blood that now smeared your face. His touch, once tender and affectionate, had taken on an eerie possessiveness that sent unsettling tremors through your being, a stark contradiction to the gentle demeanour he had shown mere moments before.
“You ate a child!” you cried out, your voice quivering with a mixture of shock and sorrow.
The weight of your accusation hung heavily in the air, and for a moment, a tense silence engulfed the room. Alfie's eyes, once warm and inviting, now bore into yours with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. The flickering firelight cast eerie shadows across his face, accentuating the depths of his enigmatic nature.
"I did what I had to do," Alfie finally spoke, his voice devoid of remorse, his gaze unyielding. "Survival in this world isn't fucking for the faint of heart, Y/n. You must understand that."
Your heart pounded in your chest as you grappled with the horrifying revelation. The man you had grown to care for was not just a mere stranger, but something far more sinister—a creature driven by a primal hunger and ruthless instincts. The conflict within you raged on, torn between the affection you had felt and the undeniable truth of his monstrous actions.
As the realisation settled in, a haunting question lingered in the air: How could you ever find your way back from the darkness that had ensnared you, and was there any hope for escape from the clutches of the Boogeyman?
“I’m not going to hurt you, Y/n…never.” Alfie whispered in your ear.
“B-bullshit!” you sobbed.
"Why do you think those wild fucking animals haven't laid a finger on you, eh? You reckon they're just giving you a pass? I'm the reason you're safe, Y/n, the only one who can keep you safe," Alfie hissed with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine.
You couldn't help but feel a chill run down your spine at Alfie's words. The warmth and safety you had associated with him moments ago now felt like an illusion, shattered by his sudden intensity. His grip on your hand tightened, and you found yourself looking at him with a mixture of fear and confusion.
"But why?" you asked, still bewildered by this revelation.
"Because they can smell me on you," Alfie explained, his voice filled with an eerie calmness. "They won't go anywhere near you." It was as if he had marked you like an animal, leaving you with a chilling sense of vulnerability and an unsettling truth about the darkness that lurked within him.
"You’re the monster in these woods..why would I ever trust you!" you cried, your voice trembling slightly. The man before you, who had been both your protector and your confidant, now seemed like an entirely different person, and you couldn't fathom the reasons behind his abrupt change in demeanour.
Alfie's eyes bore into yours, and for a moment, you thought you saw a flicker of regret pass through his gaze. He took a step closer, his expression softening slightly, but the tension in the air remained palpable.
"Dove, you've got it all wrong," Alfie began, his voice carrying a mixture of desperation and frustration. "I may not be a fucking saint, and I've done things I'm not proud of, but I've always kept you safe. Those creatures in the woods, they'd tear you apart without a second thought. I've protected you from them, and I'd do anything to keep you safe."
"That's not the point! You kill and eat children! You're a monster!" you cried, your voice quivering with a mix of terror and anger as you attempted to pull away from him.
Your words struck Alfie deep in his heart, like a dagger of truth cutting through his carefully constructed facade. He winced as the weight of his dark deeds bore down upon him, realising how he must appear in your eyes.
"I love you... I mean, I really fucking love you!" Alfie's voice quivered with desperation as he shook you aggressively, trying to break through to you. His words were laced with a fervent intensity, but the darkness in his actions left you torn between fear and the conflicted emotions you had for the man who had once been your protector and confidant.
"You're not fucking leaving me!" Alfie's voice grew even lower and darker, a haunting edge in his tone. His grip on you tightened, his fingers digging into your arms, conveying both his desperation and possessiveness. The intensity of his emotions overwhelmed you, making it difficult to think clearly in the midst of this tumultuous revelation.
"No, no, no!" you cried, terror coursing through you as you struggled to break free, but Alfie's grip was unyielding. You felt utterly helpless in the hands of this monster you had grown to trust.
Alfie's face remained hard and devoid of emotion, a stark contrast to the man you had known. "You need to fucking shut your mouth," he snarled, his words laced with a venomous edge you had never heard before. "I can take away your protection just like that. You're coming with me, or you're gonna fucking die." The chilling threat hung heavy in the air, leaving you with an impossible choice, torn between your love for him and the horrifying reality of what he had become.
Alfie's grip remained unyielding on your arm as he forcefully pulled you back toward his home. Your desperate squirming and resistance only seemed to fuel his determination. But after a while, he seemed to grow tired of your futile attempts to break free. With a swift and unexpected motion, he hoisted you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, leaving you no choice but to dangle helplessly as he continued his march back to his home.
As Alfie carried you, slung over his shoulder like a captured prey, you couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions swirling within you. Fear, anger, and betrayal all fought for dominance in your racing mind. You had trusted this man, grown close to him, and now, he appeared to be a different person entirely.
The dread continued to consume you as Alfie approached his house, a place that had once felt like a refuge but now seemed like a prison. Your mind raced with questions, and fear gnawed at your insides. What did Alfie have planned for you? The uncertainty of your situation weighed heavily on you, making each step toward the ominous building feel like a step into the unknown.
You couldn't help but replay the events in your mind, trying to make sense of how everything had unravelled so quickly. The man who had once been your protector had become your captor, and you were left with a sinking feeling that escaping his clutches would be far from easy.
Fear and despair coursed through your veins as Alfie forcefully threw you onto his bed. Desperation gripped you, and you tried to crawl away when he turned his back, but he swiftly pushed you back down. The room seemed to close in around you, and you were paralyzed by your terror, unable to muster the strength to move.
Your sobs wracked your body, making it hard to catch your breath, as Alfie moved to a corner of the room. Dread washed over you when you saw him pull out a heavy chain, and your heart raced with panic. As he approached, you couldn't control your hysteria, and your cries grew louder, echoing through the room.
"Shush!" Alfie's voice was strained as he tried to calm you, but his actions only intensified your fear.
You fought against him, attempting to kick and scream, but his strength prevailed. With a roughness that sent shockwaves of pain through you, he forcefully attached a cuff to your ankle, rendering you powerless and captive in his grasp.
With the cold, unyielding chain now securing one of your ankles, you lay on Alfie's bed, trembling and sobbing uncontrollably. Panic gnawed at your senses as you tried to make sense of this nightmarish turn of events.
Alfie, his face a mixture of frustration and determination, took a step back, seemingly assessing the situation. His eyes locked onto yours, and for a brief moment, you saw a flicker of remorse deep within his gaze. It was as if the man you once knew was battling the monstrous part of him that had emerged.
He let out a long sigh, his features softening slightly. "Dove," he began, his voice far gentler than before, "I didn't want it to come to this, but you left me no choice."
Fear still gripped you, but his change in demeanour gave you a glimmer of hope. "What do you want from me?" you choked out, your voice quivering.
"I want to keep you safe, just as I always have," he replied, his tone tinged with sadness. "But you need to understand, there are things out there that would harm you."
Your mind was a whirlwind of confusion and fear, but you couldn't ignore the sincerity in his words. As much as you wanted to escape, a part of you still clung to the bond you shared with Alfie, a bond that had once made you feel secure and cherished.
Alfie moved closer, his gaze searching your eyes for any sign of understanding. "Dove, please try to see that I'm doing this to protect you. If you cooperate, I promise you'll be safe."
The room seemed to close in on you as your options dwindled. Home, your sanctuary, was now nothing but a distant memory. In the depths of despair, you understood that there was no escape from Alfie's grasp. The man who had once been your confidant had become your captor, and the realisation weighed heavily on your trembling shoulders.
A sickening realisation dawned upon you as Alfie's words hung in the air like a heavy shroud. The truth was undeniable, and it chilled you to your core: you were trapped, bound not just by physical chains but by the possessive and obsessive grip Alfie had on you.
Tears continued to stream down your face, mixing with the sobs that wracked your body. You couldn't fathom how the man you had once admired and trusted had become a terrifying stranger. The thought of never seeing your home or your loved ones again gnawed at your soul.
Alfie watched you, his expression a tumultuous mix of concern and torment. His grip on the chain tightened, and you flinched at the ominous sound of metal against metal.
"Dove," he said softly, his voice laden with sorrow, "I wish it didn't have to be this way. But you're mine, and I'll do whatever it takes to keep you safe."
In that moment, it became painfully clear that there was no escaping Alfie's possessive grasp. The forest that had once seemed full of mysteries and adventure had transformed into a prison of nightmares, and you were its unwilling captive.
As you lay there, chained and broken, the harsh reality of your fate washed over you like a suffocating wave. In the depths of the forest that had once held allure and promise, you had become a prisoner, trapped by the very man you had grown to care for. The outside world, with its warmth and freedom, felt like a distant memory, fading further with each passing moment. The forest had swallowed you whole, and in its depths, your cries for help were destined to remain unheard, forever lost to the shadows of the trees. ⛓🥀⛓ A/N: I really hoped you enjoyed this oneshot, I know I haven't posted in AGES but I've just been through a lot of stress when I last posted and ever since, I just haven't been in the mood to write anything so I'm really grateful for everyone who has supported me.
#alfie solomons x reader#alfie solomons#peaky blinders#peaky blinder fanfic#tom hardy#tom hardy x reader#tom hardy fanfic#alfie solomons fanfic#smut#alfie solomons smut#peaky blinders smut
544 notes
·
View notes
Text
Genshin Impact: Queen's Guard Dog [1]
Part 2!
Summary: In which you are Tsaritsa’s closest retainer and servant, the one who is at the Queen’s beck and call.
You are Brighella, the Queen’s Guard Dog.
Or, the Harbingers treat you a bit differently.
Pairing: Tartaglia, Arlecchino, Pantalone, Il Dottore x GN! Reader
Note: Okay. The Foutaine Trailer though? I simply had to write something for Harbingers.
Warning: None.
★・・・・・・★
To Tartaglia, you are a mysterious shadow.
You weren’t a Harbinger, but your status makes you one, if not higher.
Like a shadow, you appear and disappear with an elegance that matches Her Majesty. But unlike Her Majesty, your heart has not frozen from the truth of the world.
As such, you would appear more human at times.
Which was why Tartaglia would dare to ever approach you when he first became a Harbinger, and actively seek you out whenever he could.
He wanted to fight against you, but he never had the opportunity.
Yet, who knew he would be the one approached by you.
“Brighella. It’s been a while.”
“Brighella, how have you been?” You smiled in response and nodded in acknowledgement.
“La Signora, Tartaglia. Her Majesty has bestowed me your mission.” Your voice was quite relaxed, almost sing-song as you pulled out a scroll.
In an instant, Tartaglia and Signora knelt on one knee and bowed their heads, your were Her Majesty’s proxy and your words should be treated as if they came from Her Majesty herself.
“Go to Liyue, and take Morax’s Gnosis.”
“We will obey your order!” They both chorused and stood up. You nod in approval before the scroll evaporates in midair.
“Good. That is all.” La Signora immediately left without looking back at all. Typical.
“Brighella.” Tartaglia called out, making the Guard Dog perk up.
“Care for a spar? Help me warm up before I fight Morax.” He proposed, watching you with his challenging eyes.
Slowly, a dangerous smirk rose to your face, making him excited too.
But to his disappointment, you quickly returned to your composure.
“Perhaps when you rise in rank, dear youngest.” You reached out with one hand and ruffled his hair.
Tartaglia widens his eyes in surprise, but he takes full advantage of it by leaning forward and enjoying the attention from such a high entity like yourself.
“Then, I look forward to your success.” Before you left, he had grabbed your hand and placed a gentle kiss on the back of your hand.
“Of course, Your Highness.”
To Arlecchino, you are a deceptive actor.
You are a shapeshifter, one that could be adapted to whatever the needs of the scenario might be, to any circumstance or play.
The world is your stage, and with each performance, you unveil a new face, assuming countless aliases to deceive those around you. You don’t discriminate in who you fool, so long as it brings joy to you.
But Arlecchino could see through your intricate web of deception, and easily pinpoint you in the crowd. While others may fall prey to your cruel manipulations, she remains untangled, resistant to your deceptive allure.
“Brighella, stop with your disgusting act.” She says with her stoic expression, but you know she’s hiding her amusement.
“Then why do you clap? Dear Arlecchino?”
In a world of illusions and falsehoods, Arlecchino is the one who understands the craft of acting, the art of transformation.
“Ha. Don’t get ahead of yourself Brighella, Your act is nothing more than a distraction, all that’s left for you is pity for your worthless act.” She approaches in strides, easily reaching you in a matter of seconds.
She raises your chin with a finger and stares into your eyes.
It’s dangerous but thrilling. This game you two play.
“Cut the crap, tell me what you’re here for.” Authoritarian as always, some things never change.
You responded to her move with your own, bringing a strand of her hair to your lips.
(Who will fall first?)
“It’s showtime my dear Knave. Her Majesty expects a good show.” Both pulled away with their masks thrown aside. Arlecchino bowed deeply.
“Yes, Your Highness.”
To Pantalone, you are an unsatiated dog.
Money slips through your fingers effortlessly, as if you give it little thought. Perhaps this lavishness is merely a facade, a clever act to hide your true cunning nature.
Pantalone, however, sees the duality within you. He witnesses your unwavering devotion towards Tsaritsa, but beneath that surface, he also sees your selfish motives, your relentless pursuit of personal gain at the cost of others.
You are shrewd as you are “kind”. You are greedy, just as you are “generous”.
But Pantalone can’t say such things about you, when he’s the same, or when he’s fully enjoying the benefits of your “generosity”.
“Brighella, to what do I owe the pleasure of the Queen’s Guard dog?”
“Oh dear Pantalone, it’s that time of the year again.” Though you had your usual smile on your lips, you stood upright and expectant.
The yearly report requires a thorough checkup of all Harbingers’s work, accomplishments and progress since the previous year. This will then be reported to Her Majesty for her discretion.
“Of course, let me show you around.” Pantalone offered a hand, which you took graciously as he led you around the Central Bank of Snezhnaya, reporting every single thing that needed to be heard.
As always, he expected your arrival and your purpose, and had always prepared ahead to ensure nothing but perfection and luxury reached your eyes.
After all, your eyes are Her Majesty’s eyes. What you see is what She will see.
So why do such pests have to exist and make a mistake in front of your presence?
“I’m so sorry, Your Highness! Please spare me!” A little rat dare spill wine on you?
Before you said anything, Pantalone covered your eyes with his gloved hands. A quick shuffle of feet and a muffled cry before it slowly faded into nothing but silence. When Pantalone uncovered your eyes, the employee was out of your sight.
“Your Highness, please come this way. I will get you a change of clothes immediately.”
“Be sure to ‘take care’ of the little servant. After all, it was just one mistake.” You advised, when suddenly a few employees rushed forward to take care of you.
Pantalone didn’t need to be told twice, it was what he intended after all. With a subtle bow and a glint in his eyes, he responded with the utmost courtesy.
“Your Highness, I promise you will never see that servant again.”
To Il Dottore, you are an ancient antique, a relic from a bygone era. An ageless monster as rumours would say, as time seems to be nothing to you.
Throughout the years, Il Dottore has seen you in action.
Where you are a masterful liar, and an inveterate schemer. If a plan fails, you have a magnificent ability to weave the situation in your favour and make it the fault of others. But such an occasion is a rarity, where Dottore had only seen once in his life.
After all, you are meticulous and calculating underneath your charming facade.
From a sinner to an innocent, Dottore marveled at how you manipulated the scene at a moment’s notice.
But that was not what caught his attention.
It was your seemingly timeless existence that has remained unfazed for a long long time by Her Majesty’s side. Your existence has never been confirmed and he had always wanted to be the first to discover.
To him, you are an enigma, a puzzle waiting to be solved.
So when you arrived in his lab to congratulate him on achieving a higher rank, he was thoroughly pleased.
“To think Your Highness would be personally here to congratulate me and deliver me such good news from Her Majesty, I am honoured.” Dottore grins as he bows before you.
“You have shown your skills worthy of Her Majesty’s praise, as such, you may ask for a reward.”
“Oh, any reward? Is this from yourself, Your Highness?” A sly smile rose to his lips.
When Brighella nodded, Dottore immediately extended a hand.
“I would like a sample of your blood, Your Highness.”
“Oh?” You had a knowing and sly expression on your face.
“Yes, that is all I need.” A beat of silence, before you placed your hand in his.
“Then, I will fulfill your curiosity.” Dottore had never been happier.
With your approval, he obtained your blood sample without any problems and immediately began formulating experiments in his head.
Not before gently placing a gentle kiss on the inside of your elbow, where your blood was taken out.
“Your Highness, I promise to bring you results.”
#manga#genshin fanfic#genshin fluff#genshin imagines#genshin x reader#genshin impact#genshin fic#genshin impact fanfic#genshin#harbingers x reader#genshin harbingers#fatui harbingers#tartaglia#childe#childe genshin impact#tartaglia x reader#childe tartagalia#gn reader#x reader#genshin x you#arlecchino#arlecchino x reader#pantalone#genshin dottore#fatui arlecchino#il dottore#dottore#fatui#pantalone x reader#the tsaritsa
622 notes
·
View notes
Text
Heart of the Great Wolf
54 - The Final Marching Trek
Pairing: Jon Snow x F!Baratheon!Reader, Robb Stark x F!Baratheon!Reader (Past)
Length: 16.1k
Warnings: angst/hurt comfort, unspecified mental illness, mental duress, references to cheating/infidelity, body image issues, insecurities, violence and disturbing imagery, past trauma torture and mutilation, separation
Notes: Thank you for your patience in me posting this, I appreciate you all more then you know. Previous Chapter Here, Series Masterlist Here
It was not a sight terribly dissimilar to the one you were looking to now. A ridge overlooking a river with the cold wind blowing your hair out in front of you. The melancholy feeling unsure in your bones not knowing what it was the future held you were moving towards, what family and love was to soon look like. Only, then it was a dress grazing along the grass as it blew as well and the company some degree behind you was vast and irritating.
What too was different, was who approached you. Trapped within the clutches of that day you recalled, was the graceful beauty of Queen Cersei approaching you in your silence standing by the running water as the noise faded into the distance. Not with words yet did she make her presence known, but you felt her there all the same. Her blonde hair loose much like yours now, the long length you, back in such a memory, had long since given up having again.
Yours now was such a length as hers, but then you had half less then her in frustration. She had always insisted you have proper handmaidens from your first day in Kings Landing, and you by fourteen had cut your hair short in a ladies standards to avoid them fussing over it everyday. It was longer then even Jons long curls now but still was quite short in terms of what a highborn lady normally looked. Her dress too, always impeccable. Never did you see such a Queen in your reflection which sat so naturally on her.
No matter how much now you would wish for nothing more then to see Cersei Lannister as far from the Iron Throne as possible, she no doubt looked the most like a true Queen should then any attempt you could make in your life. She had been pregnant with Myrcella by the time you first met her at the feast on Dragonstone, and even then she was beautiful. Standing next to her at that river side however, it was not one highborn lady against another.
You had long since then learned when Cersei spoke with manipulation, but it was a raw honesty she had finally let out only when she was sure no one else was near to listen.
She once held affection for you when you were a girl, and only sometimes by then did she still have enough humanity to let it out when no one was looking.
Strangely enough, she echoed something similar to what Renly had said to you not long before you departed for the Kingsroad. “Most girls don't look quite so grim before their wedding.” You didn't answer, and luckily, she took no offence to it.
Cersei it seemed, saw such raw nerves within you, or the hiding of something unknown and recognized what almost, seemed like a vision of herself in another time. Biting your tongue, you thought not of the face you were losing but the unknown of what having what you had with him, would be like with his brother. A small tilt of your head to the side indicated your uncertainty on the matter.
Taking another step closer, finally you could sense her gaze towards you but you were unwilling to look away from the waving waters rushing by. “If it is the bedding you are worried about-”
“It isn't, your grace.” That was a lie, but you would have rather not gotten into that discussion now or ever with her. “I've known Robb Stark many years, what I will be getting myself into shouldn't be much of a mystery as a whole, I suppose.”
Glancing to her, there was a sadness you had recognized from many years before even that day. One as a girl of fourteen in her chambers being told a heavy truth, realizing that was not the end of what she had to say. “Never expect the men in your life to treat you with any form of goodness, and it will never be able to disappoint you when they become far worse.”
Yet the image did not match what you knew, outside of the love you then were too scared to admit, Robb was as perfect of a match as a highborn girl just like yourself could dream for. Still though, you had found yourself giving into her perspective just a little, if not from the nerves running inside you. “I am aware of what is expected of me, your grace. Do what makes my husband happy, and that should be enough for most men.”
Her huff was not a laugh but perhaps something more sinister in perspective of her own marriage. “Trust me, my dove, that will never be enough for any man. You will give every part of yourself to him, and it one day will be too little. Your bed grows colder and colder until you no longer sleep in the same as him, and when he finds himself with a new, younger woman to play with, you will have no choice but to pretend it is not happening and that you are still enough.”
Attempting to interject, it did not fall on deaf ears, but perhaps biased ones. “Robb is not a man who would-”
“All of them are. Make no mistake.” Finally your eyes met as you turned more to face her, as much malice was painted behind hers there was also something wishing to provide a proper comfort which she did not think existed. “Learn that early, and you will never be disappointed when they betray you. You will do your duty, but once he does not need you anymore, don't waste your life trying to force it to be as it once was. A wife will never convince her husband to return to her once he's taken a whore into bed behind your back.”
All in the high court knew too well the degree of Robert Baratheons infidelity, and it made not a soul comfortable with the fact of how brazen he was with it. More of a strained whisper, you could not match such images from Robert to Robb. “He would still expect me to..”
“Birth him children, and you will be surprised what little he shall expect of you afterwards. In the rare event Robert leaves his whores long enough to stumble drunk into my bed, I finish him off in other ways. In the morning he doesn't remember.”
No, you thought again. None of that fit, that was not Robb. You knew without a doubt that was not the Robb you knew. If it was only fear she meant to instill however, why looking at Cersei did you then feel something a wave of doubt in your own sense of self. You knew you looked nothing near her beauty, and if she could not keep her husband interested in someone who looks as alluring as she, perhaps it was not out of the realm of possibility.
But again, you had known Robb for years. “This isn't the same, I've known Robb since I was a girl. You've always hated Robert-”
If it was honesty you did not expect, it was honest you got in a very suddenly raw display of genuity in her eyes. “Hated him? I worshipped him. Every girl in the Seven Kingdoms dreamed of him, but he was mine by oath.” Glancing out to the river now, lost in a memory of her own you could see bright in her eyes. “And when I finally saw him on our wedding day in the Sept of Baelor, lean and fierce and black bearded, it was the happiest moment of my life.” But as her eyes met yours, so did the memory of false hope fade within her. “Then that night he crawled on top of me, stinking of wine and did what he did, what little he could do, and whispered in my ear Lyanna.”
Instantly you looked away. Face falling into a twisting conflict, knowing one story and another but there was little you could say to make that alright. Lyanna Stark was dead, but on that night Cersei Lannister was a living girl, now his wife, and Robert refused to love her more then the one who was never coming back. Not something you imagined then, or now, would be easy to feel.
It was the thing you refused to let Jon think in comparison to Robb, but Robert let Cersei feel it in comparison to Lyanna. None of it was fair, but it was what she said next that was on your mind in the cold present. “Do you remember what I told you when you were a girl? The morning your red flower had bloomed?”
You hesitated, but nodded yes.
Cersei if anything, spoke with something even more honest behind her attempts to hide it. “Never forget that. If it weren't for my children, I'd have thrown myself from the highest window in the Red Keep long ago. They're the reason I'm alive. It isn't much, but yours may be the only happiness you'll be able to find, as mine are.”
Truth be told, you knew she must have been quite willing to be honest if not for a second did she say anything against it when it slipped out. “Even Joffery?”
But she almost only smiled knowingly. “Even Joffery. He was all I had once. Before Myrcella was born. I used to spend hours looking at him. His wisps of hair. His tiny little hands and feet. You always hear the terrible ones were terrible babies, but it's nonsense. Whenever he was with me, he was happy. And no one can take that away from me, not even Joffery. How it feels to have someone of your own.”
Did you have that? Had you ever? Past or present you struggled to see if you ever truly found that as the fog continued to fade so much away from your mind. In the memory, you had barley found the strength to respond, “It cannot be impossible to find some medium, your grace. Somewhere in between the best and worst, to just have a family I may be content with.”
“But it is, my dove. Women such as us do not have a choice. We either claw our way to the top, or die at the very bottom. We don't get to have a middle ground.”
She had left you alone by the water then, the next day you would all set out to make the remaining two days to Winterfell and find out if what she warned had been the truth or not. But as you stood in the cold air in the present, your mind felt far away still, and you had not yet thought you figured it out.
Little Eddard had woken up before the rest, and you had brought him far from the significant amount of hearing space from the campsite to settle him. Cries more muffled as you held the warm bundle close to your front to take all of the cold wind away from his exposed skin, and yet you had somehow found yourself drifting to that day by the water when he was finally calming.
Cersei was not a stupid woman, she knew to Joffery she was lesser in his eyes, but she loved him anyways. Held onto that love because he was hers, and not even he could take that away from her, but as you stood there it felt worse and worse. The fear that Eddard was yours yes, you needed him, but he did not want you. He was supposed to be the thing you held onto that would keep you even a small bit happy, but what if your son was different?
What if he was never happy with you? Already a festering fear dripped into your bloodstream whispering poison that you would never be the same for Jon again. You reached the point Cersei spoke of. You gave him one, and perhaps this was it. You would give him more and nothing else mattered about you to him. A woman like Cersei was beautiful, you were not. You could not even offer Jon that much.
The girl, Daisy, she had been fearful to be honest with you. Admitting that her instructions from Petyr Baelish included securing one of her girls in the brothel to seducing the King in the North for means of sabotaging you both before marriage. But you had not feared it then, knowing there was guilt on her for ever once considering needing to do it. You were not insecure when you had jested to her that marrying the day he and you returned likely ruined that plan.
But you were now. It would be weeks before he could even take you the way he'd want too, and you knew Jon enjoyed his freedom to be physical with you. You hated it, you never compared Robb to Robert but now something inside of you was falling into Cersei's trap and fearing that it was Jon who would cast you aside.
He didn't deserve to be questioned, you didn't even mean it maliciously. You felt as opposite of alluring as you could ever possibly be, Jon would not be to blame if he sought someone smaller and prettier then you for his pleasure instead. You'd give him as many children as he wanted without question, but maybe you had lied to yourself into thinking you were the exception here.
A happy family, a husband and son that you loved and loved you. But if Cersei was right, you were only lying to yourself, and it would only cause Jon and now little Eddard to feel smothered by your attempts to try and keep them to yourself.
The previous night may as well not existed, whatever laughs and smiles was shared between your new family of your making, did not exist. Maybe you imagined it, or Jon was only humouring you because he still had to put up with dragging you home for days. But you shouldn't complain. This was what you were born to do.
Marry a man and have his children. That was your duty. You didn't have the right to want more from Jon then what he's already done for you.
The sudden feeling however of arms slinking around your person, one to your hip and the other gentler across your front and tugging you back just slightly almost had you jump in place. A deep murmur rasping in your ear with a just as gentle chuckle to follow, “Didn't mean to scare you.” Muttering passingly it was fine, Jon leaned over your shoulder a bit to properly see the little one. “Everything alright?”
Nodding, you could only hope your whisper was not as obviously unsettled as was the beginnings of racing returning to your heart. “He woke up a little fussy. Brought him over here so he didn't wake you all.” Almost turning to look, Jons grip on your hip tightened to keep you in place as he assured you so far only you five were awake. “Five?”
Feeling his head nod somewhat in the distance to just outside your immediate view, you could see Ghost and Summer both clearly stalking around the distant forest in hunting demeanour. A small babble coming from the bundle, you shifted so the baby could more easily look around. Jon pulling his hand from your front to tug a glove off with his teeth, stashing it to his side before reaching back around. His hand gentle as it ran across the top of his head, and the babble turned into a louder sound.
Just as nonsensical but a little brighter as did his eyes open more from his drowsy state. You could practically feel Jons smile without needing to see it when you felt the hesitation in you, fighting with the logic and ultimately the question slipped out more uncertain about which answer you'd rather receive then you liked. “Did you want to take him?”
If he picked up on it yet, he didn't say anything. Just a shake of his head before rasping out, “No, we're all fine right here.” Once more, if your silence in response was awkward you did not know if he noticed or chose not to speak on it. Just a tight lipped single nod, before finding yourself no longer able to relax, as if you had been relaxed before.
Jon wasn't touching you as if he didn't want to, but you also knew you were mostly hidden away and would be until you were within at least four walls. You'd have something figured out by then, what to do about it. Desperate in hope you would be able to spot his dwindling interest and you'd be smart enough to find a way to keep just a scrap of it a little while longer.
“How much longer until we reach the Wall?”
Glancing over only long enough to spot Meera by Bran and Jon as she asked the question, you quickly turned back. Stone facing your gaze to something more passive in case they caught it. Your eyes only narrowed for only a moment until they turned somewhat playful. A smirk forming over that did not help the look in Eddards. You knew that mischievous look far too well, present in some form or another in all Starks.
Sighing deeply, you let your fingertips run along his sides as you leaned in with a gentle whisper, a scolding tone not serious enough to be picked up on. “Oh, so now that you're clean you've decided now is the time to start being silly?” He was so small still, it had only been a few days but it was noticeable everytime you cleaned him.
As best he could making almost what you could describe as rather grabby hands, you shifted so one hand pulled the loose strands of your hair more behind your back as he once more almost giggled. For something so small and young, already he was chalk full of personality. You wished you had proper clothes to dress him in. Only using what of yours and Jons you both could readily spare, wrapped up more in fabrics and furs around to keep him extra warm but you hated not having things for him.
Pulling him up finally and resting him high on your torso, whatever lightness was on your face suddenly left as you turned back. Jon kneeling down securing his pack as he smiled at whatever he and Bran were talking about. Benjen and Meera both seemingly familiar with one another to some degree discussing something which looked as if it were about the area. Ghost and Summer both similarly sticking by one another close to Jon and Bran.
The only one who was not quite fitting in with the group however was not you alone. Instead, you could see the unreadable stare of Yara watching you from where she was covering up the embers of the fire. Hardly brave enough to hold her gaze in case she said something, you didn't want to start a confrontation with your son in your arms. Biting your tongue you tugged the furs a little more over Eddards head before looking away.
Inhaling deeply, you moved to pretend as if you belonged in this trio of pairs which had no room for you. Glancing up from Bran you could see Jons silent gaze ask once more if you were alright, the tight smile you gave which lasted hardly half of a second as your eyes tore away from him, meant you missed the look he gave in return. Lips parted slightly as if wishing to say something, but swallowing rough as the rest of his face twisted into a frown, no longer engaging quite the same with Bran.
Jon had to leave much of your things behind when you were taken, unable to carry two packs and a baby. He tried to bring what he could of yours, but you had nothing to carry if not the baby. Not even the furs on your front, now being used to keep him wrapped and warm since Jon had to make use of what you left behind. The cloak Benjen tore from the dead for you to wear was still all you really had to fight the wind outside the long sleeved layers over you otherwise. So you had nothing to prepare to leave but the baby in your arms, as everyone else worked to leave.
Not a clue you had, that you looked extremely lost and disconnected as you stood in the camp sight without finding anyone to go close to in any capacity. You felt it, but you thought you were discreetly more to the side then you were. But no, you stood out greatly to multiple eyes who unbeknownst to you, could see something was wrong.
It had been for days and it wasn't getting any better.
New mothers were supposed to be filled with joy, and you felt love and a bonding with Eddard but your insides felt hollow. As if what you were giving him was the remainder of your emotional capacity, it was not terribly unlike when you returned from death. Not as torturous and grieving, but the same emptiness in your heart like something in you was left behind.
When the thought came into your head, you didn't know, but all you could tell was that it hadn't left in hours. The thought, the realization that Ramsay was right. Birthing a son was your only use, and once you fulfilled that, you were useless and worthless to the world. Not at all aware as well, of how worried you had begun making Jon since you all set out that morning.
He had come up to you with a bright worry in his eyes, asking low with a hand at your cheek if you were really alright and you had barley muttered with not much energy, “It's fine, let's just go.” Your eyes avoiding his the whole sentence. Jon tilted his head trying to glance around but found too many people trying to watch. Instead guiding you with a hand at your lower back to begin moving, muttering into your ear to tell him if you need help or want a break from carrying him.
You hadn't even let him help you wrap the baby up and around your front to carry with ease, which he had done every time without second thought. Jon certainly noticed that as well. Too he wondered, if he didn't even hand you food would you even eat of your own free will? You knew you had to beacuse of the baby, but you didn't even look like you wanted to eat or drink anything. You barley were focused if not just on the baby, and the small moments of joy you had were less and less and more Jon found something with a pain behind your steeled expression.
It frustrated Jon, he didn't have any real privacy out here. When it was you, him and Ghost alone, that was nothing but privacy. But now, Jon couldn't have any time with you that wasn't with at least one pair of eyes watching. Yaras voice came from his left, her own eyes trained forward on your figure moving closer to Meera, Bran, and Benjen but not close enough to be part of any conversation. “I told you this would happen.”
Low and rough, Jons face twisted rather quickly into anger. “I know my wife better then you do.”
He despised the dismissive and snarkish manner she threw back with. “Let me guess. You're different, you aren't like most men, what you two have is special and she knows it.” It sounded pathetic the rude manner she phrased it, but that didn't make it all false, he knew what you had was different but he let her keep speaking. “Trust me, Stark. You're not different. None of you men are. She knows eventually one day you'll get tired of her, and start choosing to get any run of the mill whore to suck your cock instead of her.”
Reaching out, Jon forced her to stop as he twisted her to face him in an instant. Face and eyes radiating with anger that hissed out in his low tone to not draw attention. “You have no idea what you're talking about.” Questioning if she didn't, Jon felt his muscles urging to twitch and lash out with the feeling knowing there was no where for the tension in them to actually go. “She's the only woman I've ever loved, ever been with-”
“Is she the only woman you've ever fucked, Stark?”
Something unwell churned in his stomach at the question, and yet the manner which his lack of response was taken, was in the worst way possible. The one which he knew gave her an image that wasn't anywhere near the truth. He would've been able to confidently say yes if it weren't for Ygritte, and now the image he just gave Yara was Jon had been unfaithful to you.
A condescending smirk came over her face, “I told you. All the same. You're pretty wife over there knows it'll happen again, it always does. If you really love her, try and at least pretend you'll be loyal to her until you can get her help. Bad things happen when you let newborn mothers become this way.” Asking what, Yara's smirk fell into something serious and dark which Jon already figured out the answer to as she spoke slowly. “Bad things. If you want my advice Stark, maybe start carrying the baby yourself. Protect your son from her, if you don't really care enough to help her.”
Trying to walk way, Jon yanked her back aggressively. That time, not caring that her protest caught the attention of everyone else. Still speaking low, “And you're what? An expert on protecting your family?” Sharply mentioning he was the one who killed Victarion he cut in, “We both know who I'm talking about. So don't stand there and talk down to me about protecting the people you love.”
Nearly shoving passed her, his shoulder running into hers, he cared not about looking back. Ignoring the stares from the rest, Benjen motioned to keep going. Reading quick into Jons lack of willingness to even partially explain whatever it was just occurred. Instead, coming up to you, Jon turned you back to go forward and pulled you into his side as must as he could without jostling you and the baby.
Letting his hand at your lower back rise up to your hip and waist he tried to run up and down as soothing as he could. Your voice gentle trying to murmur to him, “Do you want to talk about it?”
Jon knew he wouldn't be able to guess which way you would take it, but he said it anyways with the only truth he had. Not letting you stray from his touch again. “No. I just wish I could have you to myself right now. Both of you.” But when you gently asked again for his sake if he wanted to take Eddard for a while, Jon almost paused in his step.
If he took him right now, Jon knew it meant he was worried he didn't trust you, but your bright eyes looking up at him with that same softness Jons always been addicted too, he felt not a distrustful bone in his body towards you. Pulling your head only close enough to press a kiss to as he muttered by your ear, “He likes being carried by you more then me.”
Brows narrowing, with almost a light protest you shook your head slightly at him. “That's not true, Jon.”
“No?” Another kiss, tugging you closer into his side. “Next time we all stop, we'll test that, alright?” Your head jolted back a bit in what was the closest to amusement you had in a huff all day thus far, but you agreed with a nod. No he too thought, Yara had not a clue what you both were. Jon just needed to remind you of that too. The last thing he wanted was for you to fear he'd ever betray you like that, or even have eyes for a woman not you.
The men in your family did not provide a stable history of mens loyalty to their wives, Jon knew. So he needed to remind you that you were also his family. And now more then ever did Jon know, the men in his family were indeed loyal to those they were promised too.
Jon couldn't afford to let you get worse out here, he needed to get you home where you all belonged in order to properly give you the love you needed reminding was permanent. You were a drug to Jon, and one which it's potency would never lessen in any strength no matter how much he stayed with it.
Nights were easier, you weren't sure why. But they were.
Sitting by where Bran had comfortably propped up against for the evening close to the fire, he seemed always eager to have a chance at being allowed to just hold his nephew. Both of you speaking low, but the fog always in your head still seemed to clear more as the sun went down. You tried not to think how much Jon was incapable of looking away from you where he stood to the side of the small camp site with Benjen.
“It'll be easier to explain, or show you when we get to Winterfell. I promise, it's not that simple to put into words.”
Nodding with a small smile, you let your hand drift to mindlessly pull up the layers covering the baby, pulling a subsequent laugh from Bran. “What?”
As much as had tormented both of you for years, something inside you felt utterly relieved that you still could look at Bran and see the boy come out easily. His eyes had not let lost the light so much harm had stolen from many. “It's new, seeing you this way.” Mentioning he had been old enough to see you with Rickon as a baby, it was not unlike if someone would bring Shireen up to you. It went unspoken, but no blame came from his side when he switched his focus back to his original point. “Seeing you help with my brother isn't the same as seeing you as a mother.”
Your mindlessly gentle touches to the settled Eddard only stopped long enough for a noise to erupt from him as it to ask you to continue to run your hand over the top of his head. A smile brought out of you in an instant with a breath of a laugh. “It's odd being one. For a long time I thought I lost my only chance.” Bran protesting that he didn't mean it was odd, but you again laughed, albeit a little less meeting your eyes that time. “I know you didn't. But it doesn't make that false.”
Meeting his young gaze, yours softened away any duress in your own eyes. It was easy with Bran, no matter what had changed he was still the sweet boy you've known his whole life. Inhaling deeply, Bran looked up to Jon. You couldn't see, but the brothers both met eyes and Bran could not help but try and convey a lot to the blatant worry on Jons. Benjen too picked it up, purposely pulling Jon back to the conversation at hand, despite how often he kept looking over.
You took no notice, the smile on your lips growing as the baby tried to loosen his swaddle to grab at your hand. You had to fix the fur around him to keep him contained, but allowed him to grab at your hand, or moreso the only finger he could even pretend to grasp properly without looking away from eyes that looked so close to yours and Jons both.
What came out next however, was nothing close to the thoughts in which occupied your head beforehand. “You were the one in my dreams- visions, whatever we're calling them. But early on I'd see a boy almost watching whatever was happening trying to speak to me but when I came back I could never remember them.” He hadn't said anything, and so you prompted him properly. “Why?”
Opening his mouth, as if no time passed you dryly continued, “And don't say anything purposely cryptic like I was not in the right mind to accept it was you.”
Trying to withhold a small laugh himself, Bran looked away before meeting your eyes finding only a patience unlike the judgment which he seemed to have been expecting. More then once he seemed to attempt find the right words before settling on a quiet tone not meeting your gaze once more. “I didn't know I was doing it at first. I was trying to see if I could find anyone. Like the way Jojen found me in my dreams, I didn't know it would be so strong trying it with you.”
Swallowing roughly, you dared not imagine the charred black bones as you looked down to the baby. “That night..the dragon..the Targaryean girl. It felt like I was in someone elses head.”
“You were.” Meeting his eyes, Bran back tracked a little. “I told you, it's not easy to explain. I have to show you for you to understand.” Asking if that included what happened to cause him to come find you and Jon, Bran looked as if a grieving sorrow too hit him. “We all need to get to Winterfell first. He can't find us there.”
Hesitating, you almost weren't sure if you wanted to ask. “What does any of this have to do with Euron Greyjoy?” If Bran was going to answer, it was Yara who spoke up first. Coming up behind suddenly, she stood to your side as she spoke only to crouch down to meet more the height you met Bran at previously.
“He says you have some great power. That he wants you by his side because he's powerful, and you can give him even more.” You didn't want to consider it, how much more and more it was sounding like Euron was mixing with another who sounded much like that. “But the boy is right, you'll be safe in Winterfell. As long as where you are doesn't have a ship port nearby, that's as safe as you can get from my Uncle.”
First it was Brans eyes you met, then down to the babies, but turning to look at her your head continued as you spun around to realize it. What had been kept from you. Who this person was and only did her first name finally click. “You're Theons-”
“Sister.” Finishing for you, you nearly plucked the baby from Brans arms and moved away from her, but all of you stayed right where you were as she confessed, and in a rather honest almost guilty tone it appeared. “He sent us to take you to him, and then he sent his own men to finish the job hoping your King in the North back there would kill us first.”
It came much more out like distrust, but everything Ramsay had done to Theon and they never came for him. He had to risk his own life to run with you to escape when he had the Iron Islands which should have protected him. “Why would Euron hope for that?”
Turning, Yara sat not quite by Bran but on the wood serving as the seat propping his torso up comfortably. Elbows resting on her knees as her hands clasped together, face twisting as she debated words in her head trying to say them out loud for what seemed to be the first time. “You know what a Kingsmoot is?” Nodding your head yes, she ignored any of Brans reaction much to your dismay. “Well, I almost won it. Then Euron showed up, made a number of terrifying threats and promises and he knows if I didn't serve him then I'd oppose him. So, likely he expected the hot head over there to murder me and my uncle before we killed him.”
Breathless as your heart begun to pick up, you asked with wider eyes, “How did he know where to tell you to find us?” When she said he gave specific geographical directions, you felt no better. No, you felt a wave of dizzy rush through you as that racing heart turned to a painful pounding. Too much was going on around you now, everything was closing in on the North one way or another and you felt prepared for none of it.
Pushing up suddenly, that dizzy feeling suddenly waved over you like none other. Disorienting you as you could see him in your mind perfectly, but none of it made sense. Without any acknowledgement of other voices, you found yourself walking off into a direction without care of what was behind you. You needed air, you needed silence and you needed the cold to sting your lungs as you found yourself in a middle spot of nowhere only surrounded by trees.
Nothing illuminated your sights but the moon in the sky reflecting against the snow, but the remainder of the world spun. Eyes fluttering closed at the sensation, you crouched down to the ground squeezing them shut purposely to block out everything else trying to gain your focus. Bran, Euron, Bloodraven, crows and the sight it all spun a tale which you had no right being in and yet the reason most of this group were here was beacuse of you.
This wasn't what you wanted, returning back to the living you never wanted to be the centre of a single thing. Everyone else had a part to play so much more important, but yet here you were. Spinning in your mind, why would this all connect, how did you fall into the middle of it? Your visions and dreams once you saw Bran, then a crow and a raven and you knew one but not the other. The stranger- Euron, never spoke of a boy at all as if he didn't know about him.
Hands covering your face, your exhale was shaking. You had to pull it together, you knew. One thing at a time or else you were threatening to drown yourself. You could not afford to care what Euron wanted with you, not now. Rising your head from your palms, you ignored the sensation of watering possibly having slid down your face. Trying to steel your expression with each attempt of a deep breathe.
What was right in front of you? The answer was simple. He wanted you, not any else. Send men to take you, sent men to kill Jon, and you had no doubt were he to find you all know, he'd kill the baby too. So the solution was simple. Forget the rest plaguing your mind, get south of the Wall, get to Winterfell. Whatever he wanted with you, he couldn't go through them to do so.
Pushing up to your feet, wiping the remainder of tears away as the panic left your heart, the feeling creeping at the back of your neck rose up, only this time you had no weapon to brandish and the approaching figure remained a foot or two out of reach to prevent if you had. Eyes wide as you looked over Benjen, as he did with more of a narrow eyes concern as you let the nerves inside deflate a little bit.
“Jon seems to think you're rather good at running off out of nowhere.”
Inhaling a bit, the words heavy in your throat to push down the residual panic into something a bit strained but far more controlled. “Consider it the result of spending most of your life always doing what you were told.” Approaching more, your eyes glanced around behind him, none had followed.
Benjen picked up on it with ease. “I told the others to stay put. The last thing an emotional person needs is to be surrounded with other equally as emotional people.” Glancing away, your eyes almost rolling up a bit to indicate you understood his position. Wrapping your arms around yourself under the cloak you stood waiting for him to speak again. “I know this is all overwhelming.”
Raising an eyebrow without looking to him, you were rather dry about it. “Do you?”
Nodding, he breached the gap properly. Tone low without the return of attitude your exhausted state gave him. “For years, I thought I was the only one out here trying to figure this all out. Years, I thought that. Been all over the place, and everytime I learned something new I thought it couldn't get any more overwhelming. But it did.” Glancing up properly, your eyes did not paint as off putting a presence as your body language surely spoke. “And on top of all that, the family I never thought I'd see again, dead. Almost all of them dead. I thought I left everyone behind to save them, and they died before I could learn how to protect them from something they didn't even know was coming.”
For a moment, only a moment did you see it. The face, the eyes, the low tones serious but not mean. The only sibling he had left, and he only died months after parting ways. Blinking the remainder of the dizzy feeling away, you almost begun to look down more towards the ground in guilt. “It..it's almost strange. Like nothing has ever been right after the Lannisters took his head.”
Neither needed say who you were speaking of. But Benjen's brows furrowed as he looked down, hiding whatever he wished to keep internal, but you continued. “Your family should have all been together, handle this without having lost one another but it feels as if there's so few left we're all just scattered trying to fight what's too big for so few people.”
“How do you think the Nights Watch has felt for a long time?” A huff of a laugh came first from you, then stronger from him. “Do you remember why Bran and Meera went to find Jon and I went looking for you, instead of my nephew?” Shaking your head, Benjens answer as as passive sounding as it was unexpected. “The same thing Jon was scared of. What happened to Lyanna happening to you.” Asking gently what he was getting at, Benjen paused. Worried in your mind you came off as rude, but again he only laughed. “What?”
“I can see why my brother always wanted to keep you around, he never liked when people beat around the bush either.” The smile gracing your features was faint, but there. Such a thing was true, serving as Ned Starks ward for half of your life had certainly proven beneficial, when he needn't train you to prepare how he approached the world. “Everything closed in on my sister by the end because one mad man decided to make his grand vision all based around taking her for himself. You don't have to like that Eurons made this about you, but you have to understand it from our point of view. Each time you pull away, you're making the rest of us worry if we're about to watch it happen all over again. And I don't think Jon could handle losing you now.”
Benjen waited patiently for you to let such details sink into your mind. Not noticing the approaching footsteps somewhat in the distance behind him as your hand came up to nervously tap your nails at your lip for a moment trying to consider your words. Sometimes you hardly noticed, how easily you found yourself slipping back into the words as if he were right there. “When I married Robb, Lord Stark told me that I was one of you now, and the Starks all protect each other.” Benjen nodded but let you come to it on your own. “I suppose that hadn't quite kicked in yet, in my mind. That loyalty to your family means something very different then it did in mine.”
“You and Jon came out here to risk your lives to protect your people, so let the rest of us pay that back by protecting you. Where none of us had the chance to protect her. I'm not saying what you've been through is easy, but it'll be far easier to just let other people protect you instead of worrying it makes you selfish.”
The voice from the distance however, was a little less comforting as it cut through the end of Benjens statement. “She's pretty bad at that.” Not quite light enough you could read Jons eyes from where you stood, but he seemed to have been leaning against the tree behind his uncle for some time. Arms crossed as his muscles seemed loose as if having stood back calm for a while. Making eye contact with his uncle, something unreadable passed. “I want a moment alone with her.”
Just as the Starks were though, they knew when to be serious and when the tense air required a reprieve. “You're King now, no arguing with a King.” Jon mustering only half a smirk as the two wolves passed the other. A hand braced on Jons shoulder, one wide eyed looking to his uncle as something either unspoken was shared or just that you could not hear.
It was not until Benjens footsteps finally crossed the barrier of audible when Jon slowly made his way over to you. Instead though of whatever he may have come to say at first, he seemed to have changed his mind as he got within merely a few feet. Holding a hand out to beckon you to come closer to him, the moment you slowly rose it to grasp his, Jon wasted not a second more pulling you firmly into his front.
Your arms wrapped around him almost faster then his could yours. A hand bracing against the back of your head to hide you within his neck as he leaned down to rest against your head with the side of his. A gentle rasp in your ear passing as he felt you holding back, “I want you to listen to me when I say this. You're an idiot.”
The laugh that burst from you pulled a big grin from Jon you could feel in your hair. A shaking voice no longer with a shred of devastation which seemed so inevitable earlier. “Thanks, Snow. Really making a girl feel special.”
Chuckling deep, Jon pulled you closer into his front more to keep you shielded from the rest of the empty forest around. “I've never met anyone as good at deluding herself into thinking no one wants her then you are.”
“I have a knack for it.”
Pulling back enough, Jon let a hand leave your hair to tilt you up by your cheek to meet his bright eyes shining down to you. “I know none of this is easy for you. All your life you were told this is why you're here and now that you've actually done that, all those horrible people whispering in your ear have lied to you enough it's manipulated you into believing it.”
A gentle whisper as your hands drifted to rest along the fur against his torso. “I know you love me, I do-”
The hand on your cheek drifted, running through the loose strands by the side of your head. “But something inside of you keeps lying to you and saying I don't. Yara and Meera both said their mothers went through something like this.” Brows narrowing in confusion, Jon was as gentle with his words as he was keeping you close to him without care. “After they gave birth, they said something in their mothers was wrong. They weren't themselves, always sad, they didn't think they were good enough. Neither know if it even has a name, but this isn't you. Everything pushing you away isn't really you. Whatever your worrying I think, it's not true.”
Biting your tongue, there was not a hint of a lie or facade anywhere in Jons eyes. Nothing but a love that could crush you if you let it, which sometimes, you wondered if such an option was the right one in fact. Fingertips toying with the material under them as if to distract, you forced the words to put themselves together. “I never meant for you to feel like I didn't trust you, or doubted you or how you feel. But after everything..it started to feel impossible to forget what everyone would tell me growing up.”
Cupping both your cheeks, Jon drew you up closer as he leaned down to nudge his nose gently against yours. “You brought me back to life, darling. If either of us is stuck with the other, you're the one stuck me with me.”
A skip in your heart followed with a beat passing before you found any words, not eyes closed feeling so warm close to him. “I'm sorry I was-”
Muttering close enough you felt his breath dance across your skin as he continued to brush your noses against one another. “Stop being sorry for things, for once in your life. Alright?” Only a hint of a smile was felt so close to you, but your nod was enough, just for now. Everything had fallen apart in hours only days ago, but you knew you never gave yourself a chance to process a second of it.
Of almost truly losing them, and them losing you. The world kept testing you, and thus far Jon and yourself have stayed in the others arms despite being tore apart too many times to count, this was just another one of those times. With more unnatural variables thrown in the mixture, but if you thought about it, death had already fallen upon both of you. What else could possible top that by now?
Leaning without any more patience, Jon for what you think was the first time since being torn apart, pressed his lips properly to yours without anything to hold back. Your hands moving to wrap around his shoulders and back of his neck, Jons grip on your cheeks and jaw was firm and unrelenting as guided your lips to follow along the demands of his soft ones.
Gentle as each single kiss did Jon deepen it only just the slightest. Easing you back into his touch, and moving to cup the back of your head, keeping you pressed to his lips and the other wrapping around your back to pull your front close to his. Brushing his tongue along your bottom lip, you parted right away, his tongue gliding into your mouth to let his tongue taste along yours. Yet it never felt between you as if he was demanding what you couldn't give.
Almost prompting you to explore him the way he loved doing to you, and patient as you were shyer and more hesitant of being so brazen with your own kiss. Breath leaving your lungs but you did not wish to say anything, not being prepared to feel anything but such soft lips against yours.
One kiss, then another, then one deeper one before the issue was far more Jon unable to pull away from your lips then anything else. Tearing himself from you, your lungs almost begging for air as the strands of saliva between you barley snapped before he turned your head down to leave a more firm kiss to your forehead. Resting his against yours, Jon only pulled you comfortably into his front, as you arms held him as tight as he held you tenderly.
Rasping roughly, his warm breathe meeting your skin as he spoke. “This is what we're going to do. Until I get you home, all that matters if you and the baby. Everything that's happened, even Euron, none of that matters as long as you're out here. We get you and our son home, make sure you're alright, and only then do we start thinking about the rest of it.”
Nodding, you leaned up, wrapping your hands more around the back of his neck, as Jon returned your kiss with as much deepening passion as it could take to steal your breathe once more for himself. Hardly able to pull away enough to speak it, “I love you.”
Jon smiled partially into the kiss, his lips harsh and firm before pulling back again to look at you. Grey eyes bright as his smile. “I love you.” Only a moment passed before in a much lighter tone did Jon trail off into something more on the air of amused. “I don't want to be pushy, darling, but unfortunately for you, our son has my appetite.”
Eyes shining bright towards his, you muttered, “Oh I am well aware of that.”
Jon knew he'd need to keep an eye on you the next number of days until he got you home, but at this point, he knew being overprotective of you was second nature for him. It did strike both of you though, looking up to him from the side as he guided you back asking, “What are we going to tell everyone when we return after six months with a newborn?”
Pulling you more into his side, Jon muttered into your ear, grinning as you breathed out a flustered laugh in response. “I think they're all well aware of how often I interrupt my day to sink deep inside of you. They'll put it together.” You were beginning to think flustering you was Jons preferred past time by now.
“Are you purposely being stubborn?”
Raising your eyes up to look at Jon, you widened them only to make eye contact with the baby, leaning in with an exaggerated whisper towards him, “Now that could be been directed at either of us.”
Shaking his head with a concealed smirk dancing still in his eyes, Jon came to your side. A hand pulling your head closer to his lips to press against you, muttering with an amusement both of you were aware you'd pick up on. “If he's anywhere near as stubborn as you, I'm going to have my work cut out for me.” A laugh left you, trying to go back to little Eddard not wishing to cooperate with being swaddled once more after being brought to the side of the camp to clean. The hand of Jons not lingering on your spine reached over, gloved fingertips almost dancing playfully across his torso as the baby almost moved too much in his little laughter.
Learning your head somewhat towards Jon from the side you muttered, “You are not helping the matter, you know.” Instead of replying, Jon crouched down to be able to see the baby more at his eye level, leaning forward as he pulled his hand away only long enough to pull his glove off. Running his hand over his head gently as you realized he was distracting him for your ease.
Moving quickly with your own work, Jon leaned in to further keep the babys attention. “We both love you, but stop making things difficult on your mother. She does that enough by herself.” You didn't look up to notice if Jon spotted your barley hidden smirk, but he let himself have a much brighter one, only growing tenfold as he caught his sons gaze again. Leaning forward more to press a gentle kiss to the top of his head, it gave you just the right amount of time to capture the babys waving arms to finally keep him nice and warm as you wrapped the fur once yours around him properly as his usual final bundling layer.
“Thank you.” Jon, only moved to then close the gap between his lips and yours. Cupping the back of your neck with but a firm kiss together, hardly getting anywhere as suddenly a sound almost like a protest came from the baby. If such a small, so very young newborn could frown just like Jon, the baby was managing it. “Come here, silly boy.”
Picking the bundle up, you kept him close to your front as Jon helped you stand. Muttering lowly with his free hand running along the where his back would be if not hidden by so many layers. “He's fighting me for your attention, I'm telling you.”
Rolling your eyes jestingly, you only gazed back up at him with something softer then the days before. Bright was his eyes but so were yours, somewhat asking for something you weren't sure of yet, but Jon was a translator of your needs. Leaning in again to nudge your nose with his as you whispered, “And whose fault would that be? His rather shy mother, or his possessive wolf father.”
The hand on your back slid down to your waist, sneaking under the cloak to pinch at you as you nearly jumped close in his arms as a startle. Adjusting the grip to then pull you closer, he pressed a kiss to the top of the babys head and then grasped your chin, guiding you to meet his once more. And just as it seemed Jon was testing him, as once again little Eddard made a sound as if wanting him to stop. “You need to share her sometimes. I have to put another baby inside her eventually, give you your sister.”
Flustered and wide eyed you looked around. “Jon.” Laughing lightly he pointed out no one was listening when you nodded down to the baby. “He does not need to know these things.”
“He can't understand that yet. We have years before he learns how that all works. Well over a decade if we're going by your standards.” Your mouth fell open, walking directly into the trap he set out as you called his name. The laugh instantly from deep within gave away how easily Jon would set you up for such a reaction.
Moving back towards the main group, Jon clarified, “You sure you're alright with me carrying him in the afternoon?”
Nodding, you had become quite used to the baby being wrapped up and strapped safe to your front, but you also knew two things, you truly wanted to see Jon holding his son as much as possible with your own eyes, and never would you want to carry him alone and never give father and son time together alone. “I'll likely have to feed him twice, you should have him after since he won't be as fussy if he doesn't need to be passed back and forth.”
The area you all had stopped by was for all other aspects, quite calm. The forest pushed right up to the edge of the cliff side. Not tall as the mountains of months before, but enough one with a fear of heights would be woozy next too. The lands moving up an incline from the rooting river paths stemming off of the gorge. A few miles up ahead according to Jon and Benjen both was where the river ended, pooling into a lake just beside the edge of a village.
You remembered most of this area, the villages Jon had led you through the first days into this journey months ago, you had went through a good number of villages that had been abandoned by even the first time Jon had passed through them. It was almost a little bit comforting, no longer feeling entirely reliant on the path of others, you knew it was essentially a straight shot from here to Castle Black. Around an hour if you continue directly forward through the remainder of the forest.
The only reason you had stopped, was to go over the plans of what would happen when getting there right away. Likely it should not have surprised you when Benjen was the first to put forward that regardless of what has occurred out here, for the babys health and yours, Jon should push forward and make the final stretch to Winterfell, and get you to properly be seen by a maester who would be more familiar with complicated childbirth and early born infants then Maester Aemon.
Still only Jon had been the singular one there who knew, and he forced that feeling to be shoved right back down his throat as soon as it came up. But it was for more reason then one, and it was the second he shared with his uncle. “I don't know whose there now, Maester Aemon..he passed.”
Both elder Starks knew the man well in their own ways, and Jon appreciated someone else who would understand even a little bit of the feeling. Brows narrowing on his face, Benjen spoke with a calm but a weight behind that told of much respect. “When was this?”
Trying to consider what Sam had told him when they reunited, the information much more detailed then when it was from a raven passing such information on. “I sent him with Sam, a brother who worked with him, to Oldtown. They stopped at a port in Bravvos and, he was too ill to survive the journey. I don't know who is there now.”
Nodding, Benjen much like Jon kept whatever thoughts he had to himself over the matter. Sticking much to the main facts in front of them. “Well, either way getting them home is more important right now. I imagine a few will be surprised to see me, I'll stay back and catch them all up on certain things and meet you in Winterfell later.”
The knowing look between them rather similar, “Would be easier to explain certain things to everyone the more people they hear it from, likely.”
Walking along closer to the ridge by the rushing river below, it took some getting used to out here when the baby wasn't being carried by you in anyway. To your left sat a thick brush of trees hardly able to be seen through, least of all at the corner of your vision. Eyes trained into the sight across the way, squinting in the colder wind as you begun to kneel down.
Pulling the cloak off, you hauled it in front of you. Using the quiet to simply adjust the pin keeping it open to something a looser now that you'd be taking the baby back to push the final way. You would blame it on one thing or another, but you knew in truth, you had simply let your guard down. But from the dark trees beyond did something you did not expect to be so close creep forward. Neither did you look down to see either what had been climbing its way up, almost in stealth.
As if you were the target much as you had been that day in the Nightfort. Two people in the room and three went for you. With two direwolves up ahead scouting any danger in front, it was what came following behind which was to watch for. This time, there were six of you, but they went for you just the same.
It reached up from where none knew it was there. Only the sound of gravel and small rocks shifting by, you put the cloak down in a moment of curiosity. Cold and strong, it reached from beyond. Surging up with an inhuman sound, grabbing you one hand yanking at your hair and the other to your wrist before both pulled before you could stop it.
Whoever called out to you was heard none as the sudden sounds so close on you took over, your bare hands clawing at the sides of the rocks. Skin tearing in a bloodying pain as you tried to hold on while also trying to knock the wight from your back, but the hand in your hair slammed yours against the same wall.
The thing was, you could not pick up the sounds of those above, only what too followed. One at the rivers edge climbing with a weapon in its mouth, another stalking along the edge coming from the dark trees beyond. The dagger strapped to your ankle was useless as trapped as it had you.
The moment it happened though, who did what was too, the unexpected. A matter of who was closest, it happened to be in fact the one who understood the least about it all. If one had asked why she moved so fast, Yara at the moment wouldn't have had an answer, she just did. Knocking her to the ground from the side, she had but a single moment to recall needing the dagger Jon had given to her.
The wight snatching one wrist, and the other being pushed back by her with a strain fighting against what looked like an intent to claw her eyes out. Thrusting her head up she tried only managed to push it back before finding herself covered in a blood black and thick as she shoved the blade into the neck of the growling creature. Tossing it with a strain to down below only to find herself in the yanking grasp of one coming for you, now with a new target. You were far lower being dragged either down to the one ascending or taken by the one you couldn't even hear the chaos above against.
Sounds overwhelming in your ear did you try to throw your head back to force it off but its grip was tight and already did you feel it tearing into your skin where it had held you. Suddenly being nearly thrown back, you found yourself being snatched by a hand against your more blood covered arm by Yara, too holding on herself. It only fell as back down as somewhat below, yanking you with its grip the moment Yara tried pulling you up.
Jon only just having given the baby to Bran, did he narrowly miss grasping Yaras hand as her grip nearly lost. But in his desperation as the fear arose did he look passed her to the one clawing its way back up to you and another heading for neither him nor Yara but you as well, and you knew it. Strain meeting his gaze with your muscles shaking in pain, only seconds did you three have to come up with a plan.
Only, you felt one of its hands trying to tear at your leg, digging into your knee and reopening the healing wound from the last they had come in a cry in pain. Looking up to Yara, her own hold on you as strained as the one she and Jon struggled to keep. Jon sensed it, knowing exactly what you were about to do. Nearly growling your name out not to, but your faced again twisted as you felt as if your knee was being torn to shreds by its nails sharp as claws clutching on.
“Get him to the Wall,” He tried warning you in name but you shouted more. “Jon, get him to the Wall- please.”
But as Jon you knew saw the panic, you for only a second too found Yaras gaze. Instead though, her grip on you tightened as she gave but a nod. You did not grasp why she wasn't saving herself, but you didn't question it. Jons voice calling to your once more, “I'm not-”
“Yes, you are.” You didn't have the time to assure him, either they got you and it would all be over now, or they all stayed here as more could gather. This could have even been a trap, and Jon knew as well as you did what would happen should they come with the baby out in the open. Three grips let go, yours of what remained clawing at the rocks against your front, Yaras purposely letting go of Jons and him failing to catch hers once she let it go, but with a yell of your name as if faded.
The only grip that did not let go, was hers to yours as without any further doubt did the sudden fall get crash landed roughly with the sting all around of frozen water. Filling your sense as you knew not which way in the running river did you even land.
What was up and down you didn't know only that you found your self free to kick against the wight still ahold of you. Air leaving your lungs as you felt it tear at your skin one last time as it flew as disoriented in the rushing water as you were. Either they would kill you, kill Yara, or more would come and try to kill the others, Jon and even worse, the cold wind may come and take the baby too.
Letting go into the freezing river was a risk, but one which meant certain it gave the others time to go, get to the Wall, get to safety, and that was what mattered. Not the filling of cold in your lungs as the violence of water gave no mercy to those within its stream.
“I'm not leaving her out here,”
Jon could not ascertain if the others were rather calm for what had occurred, or if his senses were burning to such an angering degree that anything lower then the shaking in his very veins had felt like too little of a reaction. Benjen failing to bring him down any level, his words only making Jon feel even worse the longer he stood here. “Jon, listen to me. No one is leaving her behind, but we need to go before more may make their way here.” Not bothering to listen Jon gathering his weapons to him without second thought, Benjen continuing to talk to a wall. “She is giving us a head start, to protect the baby.”
Not looking up, Jon continued to move, strapping Longclaw firmly around him as he nearly growled out against his heart racing. “Then get him to Castle Black, but I'm not leaving her out here.”
Bran was silent as Meera tried her hand next. “You're his father he needs you.”
“And he needs his mother.” And Jon in his heart added that he needed you too. Son and father both needed you and Jon could not fathom getting to Castle Black without you, not knowing if you were alright to even make it back. He didn't leave you behind once he wasn't starting now.
“She's giving you a chance to get your son somewhere safe.” Turning to look at him, being held still by Bran, it was the only thing which gave Jon reason to pause. Closing the gap, Jon knelt down to take Eddard for a moment. Wide green eyes looking up so brightly as if he didn't know his mother was gone all over again, but too in those eyes did Jon see yours.
It wasn't doubt or defeat, but something begging for him to trust you. You had worried so long that you had lost his trust, and now before letting yourself fall into the freezing river to keep the Wights away from them all, he felt a wave of guilt. Eyes closing he stood now carrying the baby free in his arms, he too had promised his son they'd keep you safe. But you were too keeping them safe.
Meeting Brans eyes, he too was asking something with such similar worry as it was trust. “I'll go.” Quietly calling his name, Bran shook his head. “Summer is out there with Ghost. I can go out there, and we'll find her and get her back here. Uncle Benjen and I are his family, but you're his father. He needs you the most.”
Jon disagreed, he and his son needed you the most. But looking at his sons bright eyes, he did not return his grasp. Pulling him close to keep him warm at his front, Jon kept him close enough he could always feel even his breath against his skin for now.
Why did trusting you always have to test the weakest part of Jons need to have you close?
You could say one thing, coughing up water was far less unpleasant then whatever sick would come up at the peak of being with child. Stinging your lungs and as your torn knee sat rough against the rocks, the rest of you braced against the ground as you had pulled yourself up from the shores. Luckily, Yara was no better feet away.
Breath shaking as you looked up, the hint of a village long emptied of people in the distance, and the lake behind you from which the river deposited you, you were right in where it led. Begging your limbs to function, trying to stand only to hiss out as the material against your legs tore at the bleeding skin scratched right open as the wight tried to bring you down to him and his other kind. One foot braced up first, then another, you took far longer then you should've finding your stance upright.
“Where are we?” Head turning to the side, Yara had dragged herself up with less effort, as she walked over to you. Both of you now freezing as you were soaked head to toe.
Looking around, your legs shook trying to withhold buckling from one knee's pain. “One of the villages the Free Folk used to live in.” Asking with a shortness what that was, you inhaled mostly to not react with the same tone only because the past moments were too much for your patience. “The wildlings. Some used to live here, it's only a few hours from Castle Black.”
Coming to your side, her eyes looked over your person as you continued to ignore the pain. “How did you know this was where the river led?”
Glancing only for a beat, you turned back with another hiss the moment you attempted to move. “I've looked at a map before.” Not bothering to witness the glare, you took a step as the pain shooting through your calf up to your knee was as if it would rupture the wrong step. Asking how your leg was, a diminished patience had come out that time with less resolve to keep yourself proper. “Better then ever, Greyjoy.”
The feeling of an arm coming to your side had you side stepping from her as you knelt to one side a bit as your knee screamed at you. Asking what she was doing, it was her turn to look at you if you were the slow one. “Helping you walk, since you can't even stand.”
The glare returned as pretty as before. “What does it look like I'm doing?”
Cocking an eyebrow, the audacity to smirk looking you over once again came over Yara as did a smug tone you had not felt for over a decade. “You look like you're going to fall over the moment you walk six steps.”
You did not move to prove her wrong, and her smirk increased. Cursed you were, looking up to the clouds hiding any sun with your eyes fluttering closed. You were cursed to endure the Greyjoys in every capacity which tested your willingness to cooperate as raised to be. Muttering under your breath, knowing she could hear your eyes narrowed at the nothing you looked at. “I thank you for your help back there, but I can't say I see great appeal in relying on you to walk south east over the course of multiple hours.”
One limb, then another, Yara's speed matched with more of such attitude you despised. “Yes, you're doing so well.” Praise sounded horrid coming from her condescension then it did Jons genuity. In the silence did you bite down on your tongue as the pain grew more as did your shivering, but you walked beside her not willing to see the expression. Her words spoke that for you. “You and him are made for each other, both the most ungrateful cunts I've ever met.”
A burning rose in your veins to lash out, but resisting was what you had to do. You would not yet put it passed Yara to respond to a petty jab by kicking your knee in and leaving you here. Stopping in place you looked over to her, the shivering both still within your bones did not help, but trust did not come easy towards her family. Only one, and you had yet to wonder if she even knew of his fate once being abandoned to the Boltons. But, it was not the time for that either.
Jaw clenched roughly, you nodded as Yara wrapped an arm steady around you, leaning into her side as she could now do the heavier lifting for you each step. “Thank you.”
Yara made it rather easy to regret offering any polite words, raising her voice up to something far beyond a jest into a mocking you knew she could feel you tense towards. “At least you have more manners then your husband. And I thought giving you to Euron would mean you'd be married to an insufferable ass.”
That was meant to rile you up, and it would not be the last to be spat towards you nor the only time you'd withhold any words in return, but for the first little while, you limped and she walked in relative, teeth chattering silence.
Not a weapon left on either of you, you wondered if Yara was aware of the danger quite yet. Whatever she had seen before that evening was fraught compared to what was out here. Jon always ensured to stop before it grew dark, even with the shared weapons both of you could wield. Now was not the same assurance, somewhere no doubt the dragonglass on you both sunk to the bottom of the river, not a bow, nor knife only two women one unable to stand with ease on their own.
“Neither of you are particularly chatty, are you?” Yara read your silence at the bare minimum. Not waiting for a reply, in Greyjoy standards, she could talk to herself at you as long as it entertained her.
Most of any words spoken were short in reply, and if you were to be honest, your dwindling patience was growing more and more within the realm of spiteful irritation that she either did not grasp why you would not have interest in talking to her, or knew and did not care. But it was not your newest injuries alone which were the source of your pain.
No, such a reminder came in the general state you had existed in now for nearly seven days and the hands in which helped such problems fester. The woman nearly dragging you across the snow covered forest had not a clue what had brought you out here in the first place. Not any knowledge of what it took to get there, and what risk it was gaining the information Jon now had to make sense with the rest of it.
You had come out here for the only place left giving you answers, but still the world proved it was far more preoccupied with whatever games for power the people played amongst themselves. Yet worst of all, she and her men, orders or no, had ripped the only happiness you had found in this frozen land and never for a moment since had that peace and happiness come back to you as it should've.
Every now and again, you had caught yourself nearly turning to look at her from the side with nothing near a pleasant expression. “What?” Quiet sat heavy between you before she tried again, only louder. “You have something to say, then say it.”
Strong urges within you begged, implored to keep it to yourself. To not say it, but yet you did. It came out as if you were a child without a filter, either in words spoken aloud or even in an attitude any could detect. “It's strange is all, what you consider worthy of your loyalty.” Demanding what that was supposed to mean, you wished to hold it back.
But you knew better. You knew many truths now, and some did not connect as well as others, all of which did not feel good at any stage. “You're helping me now, but you came out here at Euron's orders to kill Jon and kidnap myself. I can't help but wonder why your own blood saw none of that even attempted towards him when he needed it most.”
Yara was quiet, and not with any reason you knew for. But her voice was a distant mutter, as if a fear existed that if heard in the air someplace other then her mind then she may have to deal with the consequences of it. But if no other hint was to be given, yourself and Yara knew too well who you were thinking of. “And you know more about it?” Humming in your throat, an edge sharpened along her own. “I doubt that. Those Boltons mutilated my brother, sent what they cut from him to us in a box.”
The pain in your body radiated into your heart, a pain long wished to see him move past. The way Theon sat outside the tub your own desecrated body was soaking in, the way neither of you could look as he spoke of it all. The taunts, forcing you into a nightmare of the making from the deepest of the seven hells and yet how Ramsay would look up, and mock him. Call him a name to strip him of his life and mock for what he could not force him to participate in.
She did not take your doubtful ire well, grip around you tightening inadvertently as she herself was working herself up more into something you knew she had no true grounds to stand on. “I tried to help him, what have you ever done for him? Have your precious King in the North kill the Boltons for him? Make him stay on and serve the same family who kept him hostage-”
Teeth gritting, your muscles begged to heal in an instant to turn on her for what she had no right to claim. “You wouldn't-” Heart floating in your chest as if dropped from a mountains edge, your eyes widened as your mouth parted slightly before turning to the side with your face twisting into a true mistrust. “What do you mean you tried to help him? By leaving him in the North while you sat in your home on Pyke?”
Whatever guilt she felt, you had suddenly wished she would drown in it. The manner in which she struggled to let any of it out before telling you what she had done, after receiving a mutilated piece of Theon from Ramsay. You held very little memory of it, perhaps the vague recollection of the bells tolling but muffled under a deeply disturbed hallucination through ill and fever. You had seen none of the Dreadfort beyond the courtyard and the halls in and out of the dungeon you existed in for months.
Yara explained that they had been taken to where Theon was, and what happened in that room. Only, the story ended the only manner which was possible. Theon was still there, and dragged to Winterfell with you eventually to which somehow, it only got worse as the torment was now shared as a joy for Ramsay to enact on both of you together.
Hounds. It was those bloody hounds that sent her away. And before you had thought of any words, nothing but disgust erupted inside of your system until it seethed in your eyes. Stopping in place, she almost stumbled noticing you had not continued with her. But as she tried to defend herself, she only dug herself a grave. “I did everything I could.” Turning to face you head on, you had not even blinked as she tried again, almost pleading for you to listen. “I tried to get him to come, he refused to listen to me.” Your eyes did not move nor did you breathe you were certain, nothing could even twitch unless it came out before you could contain what you could not finish. “It was my men against those hounds.”
Jaw twitching in her, but something devastated shared the space occupying your rage. You never knew this. She had come for him, but she left. Without him. And her final plea was her last as she tried to turn, imploring you to walk and finding an immovable force within your stance. “Theon wouldn't come with me, I couldn't risk losing my men and my life if he refused to come home. It isn't my fault.”
Unbeknownst to you however, your words were a repeat of her own history. Turning your body to face her she spun around the moment they passed your lips. “He's your brother.” The shame was growing and you only added onto it as she pleaded she had no other choice. “Theon is your brother, as he is mine and you left him to die.”
In her own mind, Yara felt a bit stunned. You looked at her with the same vitriol she had looked to her own father with. Yet she now was the one making the excuses he did for why they should leave Theon to die. Stammering a bit, she couldn't make eye contact as she attempted any way to pull herself from the grave she knew she had just flung herself into. “I would've died trying to get him out, I had to leave.”
Cutting right though it, the truth was harsh for her to hear and you said it with every intention for it to hurt inside. “Theon and I were both prisoners to them. And when we were dragged to Winterfell, Ramsay Bolton only begun to torture us together in brand new ways. I wanted to die. I was ready. I wouldn't have made it any longer before killing myself if it weren't for him.”
Would you have lived through the night had Theon not made a plan to get you out? You didn't even know if you could hold out until the sun rose with them any longer. And you told her why you did. Helping you escape, running from his men and those hounds. “He refused to leave me. I was a dead weight to him trying to escape and he never let me slow down until we found anything even resembling safety. He had the perfect chance to leave alone and start new, but he didn't leave me behind even though some days I still wonder if he should have.”
You didn't care the look on her face, what it meant or said. Shock or guilt, it didn't matter. She left him behind to die, and so Theon refused to do it for you. Her whisper was seeking a way to pick at your story but with no ability to meet your unblinking gaze, too intense for her to hold steadily. “If he was free then, why did he never come home?”
It hurt to hear, what you said. And for once, you were glad to be the one to deliver such sharp wounds to another. “Because he has a place here. He belongs in Winterfell. He's the closest thing to a true brother I have, and never for a moment did I let the things he did before effect how he was treated after. If he had a chance to go back to Pyke, then he never took it. But not because anyone was holding him back from it. He stayed because he's as much a Greyjoy as he is a Stark.”
Yara was his blood, but not his family. Such things were not the same. The Starks gave you family when yours never wanted to be one in whole. And it was the thing which kept the only family you thought you had left together, between you and Theon. You left knowing he was angry with you, because you did not want to tell him you may never come back. You didn't want him to think he had to watch you leave to what could be death. Because you didn't want to stand there after everything and hurt him more then he had getting there.
But abandoning him to his death? To save your own life? That was not the kind of man Eddard Stark raised Theon to be, unlike whatever Balon Greyjoy raised Yara to be now. She may have helped save you here, but she also almost took you away from Jon and your son. She knew nothing about truly protecting the ones you love.
Limping passed her, you did not withhold how your shoulder bumped roughly into hers. Each step producing an even worse wince when she turned to try and follow with a shout. “Are you just going to limp to the Wall, is that it? Lecture me and leave?”
Only a dry yell back you did not stop your slow but continuing pace to the ones you loved. “I know the path. I'll make it one way or another.” Yara begun to follow, raising her voice to you about just leaving her there and you shouted back only a little less dry and a tinge more tense. “Your feet work, follow me then. Or don't.”
Sometimes it surprised you, how quickly it was let out. Not often did it happen, but just when the right combination of things presented itself, did everything your father raise you to be go right out of the window. And in it's place the yell and the furious anger of a Baratheon just as Robert could take it's place, the second Yara grabbed your shoulder to make you stop. Turning in place you leaned more up to her face, as she clearly held no issue either with yelling. “You save my life once and suddenly it forgives trying to force me into a monsters hands, coming out here to kill the man I love, separate him and our son from me? Give me one reason why saving my life one single time means I shouldn't shove you right back into those waters and leave you to freeze in them.”
Her voice yelled right back as the sun went down around your spat. “You going to be the one to tell Theon you left his sister to die?” You came right back that you left him to die, her face twisting further into anger as yours narrowed in a seething despite the shouting from your burning lungs. “I did what I thought I had to do for my family-”
Were your body not weak and in pain, your shaking muscles may have been effective in anything other then making you feel dizzy as the pain in your head increased. “You have no clue what family truly means.”
“Keep interrupting me, Baratheon and I'll-”
Leaning in your yell dropped sudden as a waters drop. Down to a hissing in her face that she could even think to defend what she'd done. “You will what? Hit me? Kill me?” Holding your arms out, you took a painful step back. “Go right ahead, Greyjoy. Kill me and see who is left to side with you then. Get to the Wall and explain to Jon how you got angry and left the mother of his child to die. Go to Winterfell and defend it to Theon, see how much he appreciates what you do to protect your family.”
So little did fury flow through you but you would not bend for her. She was taller, stronger, and scarier but you had faced death and far worse then death. Whatever she could do was nothing compared to what blood had already been spilt in your nightmares.
The growling though? That came not from you nor her, and yet it increased suddenly until something snatched at Yaras clothes and yanked her back enough to throw her on the snowy ground. Splayed out did Ghost appear in front of you vicious and snarling as the equally as large and darker furred Summer get in her face as all anger in her bled away to fear.
Your senses returning from burning red as you had to shake yourself into the present, “Summer, stop-” Growling more did the direwolf lean into her face before turning on a dime to look at you. Stare unblinking and stern, but in comparison to Ghosts, you recognized the human in his eyes. Ghost was as he always was as a protector alone, but what you had learned to see in him was now seen in Summer. Limping forward a bit, your hand braced against Ghosts fur, easing up beside you you knelt down in a wince as the other came up to you.
Head tilting back as something amazed painted over you just as it had when you saw such a feat right on Jons face doing it, but now in the opposite manner. “Bran?” The wolf's head nodded, and you almost laughed. Whispering as you reached up to run your hand gently over his fur, “I suppose I shouldn't be surprised with you Starks. Is everyone alright?” A single nod as your heart nearly deflated in relief.
On the ground behind still you heard Yara with a shout, “What the fuck is going on with any of you people?” Ghost leaned closer to your pained figure as you looked over Bran in Summer's eyes.
He glanced up to the sky as did you to follow, the sun had little time left. Without looking to her, you shouted back only without the anger this time as your hand ran gently over Ghost beside you, comfort returning in some capacity to your heart. “We need to leave. We shouldn't be out here alone when the sun goes down.”
Forcing herself up, you could see from the top of your vision how much she did in the moment, remind you of Theon. Her high strung exasperated state in frustration muttering, “I hate this place.”
Eyes finding Ghosts, the direwolf's mind his own and yet it was just as warm as if Jon were beside you. One in the same they were, and even if Jon couldn't come for you as he wished, needing to protect the baby, Ghost was just as good, and just as something reminding you of home.
A few hours to the Wall, only a few hours. But you had to leave now, pain or no through your person, once the sun goes down, the white winds could come at anytime and there was no place to hide from them this far south here.
As four figures approached the Wall, the sound Jon once thought would be comforting to hear was only a reminder of what he still didn't have with him. Meera having switched places again to take over pulling the sledge carrying Bran. Benjen beside Jon now, his hand coming up to rest comfortingly on Jons shoulder not where little Eddard was being held while he rested, his uncle's words low. “She'll get here, Jon. He'll make sure of it.”
Looking to his brother, Jon finally realized what it looked like. Brans eyes a pure white, he had to trust that he and Ghost together could find you and get you back. In only two hours would the sky turn dark, and he feared what it would take to get you back once what comes in the night, comes crawling out looking for eyes to turn blue forever.
Looking down to the baby, Jon shushed him gently as he made a small cry at the volume of the horn, “We're almost home, I promise. We just need to get her back.” He trusted you and he trusted Bran, but his heart couldn't take being apart from you much longer. Desperately, he tried to hold back the sting in his eyes at how horribly the world kept tearing you apart from him, and now your son together.
The gate to Castle Black finally begun to open, but Jon felt sick at the thought of walking through it.
#jon snow x reader#robb stark x reader#jon snow#robb stark#game of thrones#a song of ice and fire#asoiaf#jon snow x you#robb stark x you#jon snow imagine#robb stark imagine
60 notes
·
View notes
Text
Midnight and The Light
Bucky Barnes Vampire!AU Story
Summary: James Buchanan Barnes is a vampire detective working for the London police to cover up murders done by his own people. One day his world turns upside down when a female detective is assigned to work with him.
For some reason his mind bending power doesn't work on her, making his job harder and the mystery intrigued him. Who is she? But more importantly, what is she? Will he figure it out?
Warning : violence and murder depiction
Word count : 3.4k
Chapters : 3/10 (May add more)
Chapter list >
---
Chapter 3
A sliver of light broke through the thick curtains, illuminating a figure sitting on a couch in a London apartment. James sat on the edge of his worn leather couch, staring at the TV with growing unease, the glow of the screen illuminated his tense expression.
“Breaking News: Unidentified Body Found in East London," the reporter’s voice blared, her tone grim and urgent. The camera panned to an alley cordoned off with police tape. Forensic teams and officers swarmed the area, but what sent a chill down James’s spine was the sight of the body.
It was unmistakable—the vampire he had killed last night.
The camera zoomed in on the reporter, her face pale with concern. “Authorities are still investigating the cause of death, but there are signs of severe trauma and unexplained injuries to the victim’s neck and chest. Residents in the area reported hearing a struggle late last night, but no witnesses have come forward yet. Police are asking anyone with information to—"
The words faded into background noise as the screen switched to a close-up of the vampire's lifeless face, covered in deep lacerations, his eyes wide open in a frozen expression of terror.
James’s grip tightened on the remote, his jaw clenched in fury. How could he have been so careless? The body should have been disposed of immediately. Now it was out in the open, and worse—being broadcasted to the world.
He was too focused on Y/n last night. Making sure that she was okay. He stayed at her apartment and talked more with her, answering any questions she might have. Then when she was satisfied, he reluctantly left her and went back to his apartment, forgetting completely to clean up the body of the rogue vampire.
His muscles tense with barely contained rage. This wasn't just a mistake. It was a catastrophe. If humans started connecting the dots, if they discovered the truth behind that body…
He slammed the remote onto the couch, standing up abruptly. His hands shook slightly, the anger and frustration rising inside him like a storm. There was still time. He could still fix this.
---
James left his apartment, the cool London air doing nothing to calm his nerves. The streets were crowded with people, oblivious to the darkness that lingered just beneath the surface of their city. He moved quickly, his mind racing. He would need to get to the hospital where the body was being examined and begin erasing memories.
He reached the hospital in a blur, his powers letting him slip past security easily. Once inside, he found the morgue, where the body lay, waiting for examination. The scent of death hung in the sterile air as James approached the first doctor.
The man looked up from his clipboard, his face lined with exhaustion. “Can I help you?”
James met his gaze, his voice calm but commanding. “You didn’t see anything unusual. It’s just an ordinary body, nothing worth reporting.”
The doctor blinked, his face going slack for a moment before nodding slowly. “Nothing unusual…”
James repeated the process with every nurse, every cop, every reporter that had come into contact with the story. He manipulated their minds, but each time, the same frustration gnawed at him.
It wasn’t working.
No matter how hard he tried, the story had already gained too much traction. News crews were still outside, gathering footage. Police were conducting interviews. He could feel the weight of impending disaster closing in around him.
He stepped out of the hospital, his mind reeling. This was a problem too big for him to fix. It wouldn’t take long before the wrong people—vampires or otherwise—started asking the right questions. He had failed, and he knew the repercussions would be severe. The leader would find out. The leader always found out.
James cursed under his breath. He glanced at his watch, knowing he was living on borrowed time.
---
The weight of the day’s events bore heavily on James as he stepped into his dimly lit apartment, feeling the weariness in his bones—though as a vampire, he never truly tired. But tonight was different. The mistakes he had made felt like chains tightening around him, threatening to pull him under.
As he closed the door behind him, he froze.
A cold presence filled the room. The air seemed to shift, darken. James’s instincts screamed danger, but it was too late. He didn’t have to turn around to know who it was. He could feel it—the thousand years of menace that clung to the figure behind him like a dark shadow.
"James."
The voice was like ice, low and ancient, carrying the weight of centuries. James turned slowly, meeting the gaze of the vampire leader—Draven Nyxarius. The name itself sent chills through the vampire community, a name that had lived in whispers and fear for millennia. Draven, a creature older than the cities themselves, stood before him, his tall, gaunt frame draped in a dark coat, his eyes glowing with a cold, calculating light.
“Draven,” James said, trying to keep his voice steady, but the sheer presence of the leader made the air heavy in his lungs. His heart beat, despite himself—a remnant of his humanity he could never quite escape.
Draven took a step forward, his black boots barely making a sound against the hardwood floor. “I thought you were more careful than this, James.” His voice dripped with disdain. “A dead vampire in a public alley, found by humans, dissected by their doctors. You know what this means.”
James straightened, keeping his expression neutral despite the dread twisting inside him. “It was a mistake. I’ll handle it.”
Draven’s cold laugh echoed through the room, humorless and sharp. “You’ll handle it? Oh no, James, I’m handling it now. You were careless.”
James clenched his jaw. “It was a rogue vampire. He was attacking someone—”
“Someone,” Draven interrupted, his icy blue eyes narrowing. “Who?”
James froze for a fraction of a second, but Draven’s piercing gaze missed nothing.
“James,” Draven said, taking another step forward, his voice lowering into a menacing hiss. “I don’t tolerate lies. Who were you protecting?”
James’s mind raced. He couldn’t tell him about Y/n. Not now. Not ever. If Draven found out, he would use her—control her or worse, kill her. There were no other options with Draven. He was a ruler who had lasted over a thousand years by being ruthless and merciless.
James forced himself to remain calm, even as the weight of Draven’s scrutiny bore down on him. “Just a bystander,” he lied, his voice even. “The vampire was feeding. I had no choice but to stop him.”
Draven’s lips curled into a sinister smile, but his eyes remained cold, devoid of humor. “No choice… how convenient.” He leaned closer, his gaze searing into James’s soul. “I’ve known you for over three centuries, James. You’ve never been one to make mistakes.”
James didn’t flinch, but the tension between them thickened. Draven was testing him, pushing to see if he would crack.
“There’s nothing more to tell,” James said, meeting Draven’s gaze without wavering. “I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again.”
Draven stared at him for a long moment, his silence heavier than his words. Then, with a sudden, sharp movement, he turned away, walking toward the window. He stood there, his silhouette stark against the city lights, the darkness seeming to ripple around him.
“You’ve always been a loyal servant to the community, James,” Draven said softly, but there was an edge to his words. “But if you’re hiding something from me… if you’re protecting someone…” He turned his head slightly, his eyes glinting with a deadly promise. “I will find out. And when I do, no mercy will be shown.”
The threat lingered in the air like poison, and James felt the weight of it settle deep into his bones.
“I understand,” James replied, his voice steady despite the storm brewing inside him.
Draven’s eyes locked with his once more, cold and calculating. “Good.” He turned, heading for the door, his presence seeming to suck the warmth from the room as he passed. Before leaving, he paused and spoke without turning back. “Don’t make me regret sparing you all those years ago, James. You wouldn’t enjoy the consequences.”
And with that, he disappeared into the night, leaving James standing alone in the darkened room, his mind racing. The threat was clear. Draven knew something was off, and it wouldn’t be long before he started digging.
James exhaled, his hands gripping the back of the chair as he fought the rising tide of frustration. He had to protect Y/n, no matter what. But this was bigger than just him now. Draven was a force that didn’t forgive, didn’t forget, and didn’t tolerate disobedience.
James ran a hand through his hair, knowing that he was walking a dangerous line. But one thing was certain: whatever it took, he would keep Y/n safe.
He had made that promise and he intended to keep it.
—
The night air was cool as Y/n walked home from the headquarters, her mind racing after everything James had revealed to her. She still couldn’t fully grasp the reality of it—the fact that vampires existed, and that she was somehow connected to them. Half-vampire, James had said. But how? How could she be part of something so terrifying and otherworldly without even knowing?
Her footsteps echoed against the quiet streets, and the familiar path back to her apartment seemed unusually eerie. The streetlights flickered overhead, casting long shadows, and for a moment, Y/n had the unsettling feeling that she wasn’t alone.
She quickened her pace, her senses sharpening. Something was wrong. She could feel it—a chill creeping down her spine, a heavy presence following her.
Suddenly, out of the corner of her eye, she caught movement. Her heart skipped a beat as she glanced over her shoulder, but the street behind her was empty.
Just nerves, she told herself. After everything that had happened, she was jumpy. But the feeling didn’t go away. The sense of being watched, hunted, clung to her, thickening the air with dread.
She sped up, her eyes scanning the shadows, but that’s when she saw them—three figures stepping out from the darkness, their eyes glowing faintly in the dim light. Vampires.
A surge of panic shot through her, but she forced herself to remain calm. They were here because of her. James had warned her that the vampire community wouldn’t take her presence lightly, but she hadn’t expected them to come so soon. She wasn’t ready.
She turned and broke into a run, her breath coming out in short gasps as adrenaline kicked in. The vampires followed, their footsteps eerily quiet as they closed in on her with terrifying speed.
Y/n’s heart pounded in her chest as she darted down an alley, hoping to lose them, but they were faster. Much faster. She skidded to a stop, her back against a brick wall, trapped.
The lead vampire stepped forward, a sinister grin curling across his pale face. “You shouldn’t be out here alone, little girl.”
Y/n’s pulse raced, but something inside her—something primal—began to stir. The fear that had gripped her moments before shifted, changing into something else. Her blood thrummed in her veins, and she could feel a strange energy rising within her, powerful and unfamiliar.
The vampire lunged, but Y/n reacted faster than she thought possible. Her body moved on instinct, dodging his attack with a speed and strength she didn’t know she had. She lashed out, her hand connecting with his chest, sending him stumbling back with a surprised snarl.
The other two vampires circled her, their eyes narrowing as they realized she wasn’t just any human. She felt the power surging inside her, growing with each passing second, but she didn’t know how to control it. Her vision sharpened, her senses heightening to an almost unbearable level.
One of the vampires lunged, but she swung her arm, hitting him with such force that he flew back, crashing into a pile of trash cans. The third vampire came at her from behind, but she spun, dodging his attack, her movements faster, more precise than ever before.
But even as she fought them off, she could feel her strength waning. She didn’t know how long she could hold them off. The lead vampire smirked, recovering from her earlier blow. “You’re stronger than I thought. But you don’t know what you are, do you?”
He lunged again, this time faster, more precise. Y/n tried to dodge, but he was too quick. His hand wrapped around her throat, slamming her back against the wall. Her vision blurred as he tightened his grip, cutting off her air.
“You’re just a child playing with power you don’t understand,” he hissed, his fangs bared. “We’re going to make sure you never get the chance to use it.”
Y/n struggled, gasping for breath, but her strength was fading. She clawed at his arm, trying to break free, but it was no use. Darkness crept at the edges of her vision.
Suddenly, a blur of motion appeared behind the vampire, and before Y/n could register what was happening, the vampire’s grip on her throat loosened. He let out a strangled gasp, his body jerking as something—or someone—yanked him away from her with brutal force.
James.
He moved with terrifying speed, his eyes blazing with fury as he grabbed the vampire by the throat and slammed him into the ground. The other two vampires rushed at him, but he was faster. In a flurry of brutal strikes, he incapacitated both of them, tossing their bodies aside like rag dolls.
Y/n fell to her knees, gasping for air as she watched James fight. The precision, the power—he was a force of nature, deadly and unstoppable. The lead vampire tried to scramble to his feet, but James was on him in an instant, his hand wrapping around the vampire’s neck.
“You shouldn’t have touched her,” James growled, his voice low and dangerous.
The vampire sneered, his eyes flickering with fear as he struggled against James’s grip. “She’s just a half-blood. You can’t protect her forever.”
James’s expression darkened, and without another word, he twisted the vampire’s neck with a sickening crack. The body went limp in his hands, and James tossed it aside, his chest heaving with controlled rage.
Y/n stared, her heart racing. The sheer brutality of it, the power James wielded so effortlessly—it terrified her. But more than that, it reassured her. He had saved her. Again.
James turned to her, his expression softening as he knelt beside her. “Are you okay?”
Y/n nodded, still shaken but grateful. “I... I think so.”
James helped her to her feet, his touch gentle but firm. “We need to get you out of here. There could be more.”
Y/n swallowed, her mind still reeling from the fight. “What was that? What just happened to me?”
James’s eyes flickered with something—concern, maybe even fear—but he didn’t answer right away. Instead, he kept a steady hand on her arm as they made their way out of the alley, back onto the street.
As they walked, Y/n felt the weight of what had just happened sink in. Her body, her mind—something inside her had changed. And she didn’t know if she could ever go back to being the person she was before.
James glanced at her, his expression unreadable. “Your powers are awakening. Faster than I expected.”
Y/n looked at him, her voice trembling. “I don’t know how to control it. I don’t even know what it is.”
James sighed, his gaze drifting to the darkened street ahead. “You’re a half-blood. Stronger than a human but not fully vampire. Your powers will keep growing, but without control...”
He didn’t finish the sentence, but Y/n knew what he meant. Without control, she was dangerous. To herself and to everyone around her.
She swallowed hard, fear and uncertainty swirling in her chest. “What do we do now?”
James met her eyes, his gaze intense. “I’ll protect you. And I’ll help you figure this out. But we need to be careful. The others will come for you. And next time, they won’t hold back.”
Y/n nodded, her heart pounding as she realized the gravity of the situation. The world she had known was gone, replaced by something far more dangerous and terrifying. But as long as James was with her, she felt a glimmer of hope.
“I trust you,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.
James’s expression softened, and for a brief moment, something unspoken passed between them. He nodded, his hand lingering on her arm as they walked into the night together.
---
James stared at the cracked windshield of the stolen car as they sped down the quiet back roads of England. The city lights of London faded in the distance, and the rolling countryside spread before them, bathed in the pale glow of the moon.
Y/n sat beside him, her arms crossed tightly, the weight of everything still pressing on her. “So… what’s the plan, exactly?” she asked, her voice breaking the silence.
“We need to lay low,” James replied, glancing at her. “Draven has eyes everywhere, and if he’s set his sights on you, we don’t have much time. Your family might hold the key to figuring out what you are.”
She nodded slowly, though the tension in her body hadn’t eased. “But why Whitby?” she asked, her brow furrowing. “Why go back there?”
He kept his eyes on the road as they turned onto a narrow lane, the woods closing in around them. “It’s remote. Easier to disappear. You also said your family might know something… maybe something about your past, how you became half-vampire. This is bigger than what you’ve realized.”
Y/n fell silent for a moment, staring out the window at the dark shapes of trees passing by. “I haven’t been back to Whitby in years,” she admitted quietly. “My parents and I... we don’t really talk much. And I didn’t think they’d be part of something like this.”
James' hands tightened on the wheel. He wasn’t entirely sure what they would find when they reached Whitby, but the pull toward her, toward protecting her, had grown stronger. He hadn’t felt this way about anyone in centuries, but the feeling was undeniable. He glanced at her again, seeing the way her mismatched eyes glinted in the faint light—a strange and alluring mix of light brown, blue, and streaks of dark brown that seemed to pull him in.
“You have a unique power, Y/n. I think you’re only starting to scratch the surface,” he said, his voice lower now. “Whatever happened to you, it’s made you stronger than you realize.”
Y/n gave a small, humorless laugh. “Stronger? I almost got killed back there.”
James shook his head. “That vampire was trained to kill. If you hadn’t fought back with the abilities you’re only just discovering, you wouldn’t have stood a chance. But you survived. You’re more powerful than you think, and that’s what makes you dangerous to Draven.”
The weight of his words settled heavily between them. She shifted in her seat, "Draven," she muttered. "He’s the leader of this vampire community. What does he even want with me?"
James’ jaw clenched. “He wants control. He doesn’t tolerate loose ends or threats to his rule. A half-vampire with untested powers? You’re something he can’t predict—and that terrifies him.”
Y/n swallowed hard, trying to process it all. “So, we’re running.”
“For now, yes.” His voice softened. “But we’ll figure this out. Your family might know more than they’ve let on.”
The road ahead stretched into the darkness, as the air inside the car filled with quiet tension. Every so often, their eyes would meet, a mix of curiosity and something deeper lingering between them.
After several long minutes, Y/n broke the silence. “What about you? You said Draven turned you into a vampire… that you didn’t have a choice.”
James hesitated, his eyes flickering with an emotion she couldn’t quite place. “It was over three centuries ago. I was… like you, a detective. Draven found me investigating a string of murders that were tied to his people. He decided I’d be more useful on his side.”
“And you didn’t fight back?” Y/n asked, her voice tinged with disbelief.
“I did. But you don’t fight Draven and win. I was young, brash... but after he turned me, I didn’t have a choice. I had to cover up his messes. It was either that, or he’d kill me.”
Y/n’s breath hitched. She had never imagined such a terrifying life for James, the man who seemed so in control of everything. “So you’ve been doing this for centuries?”
James nodded, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter. “And I’m still here. But you... you’re different.”
Her brow furrowed. “Different, how?”
He hesitated. The truth tugged at him, the pull he felt toward her, the way her presence stirred something in him that he hadn’t felt since his human days. “You don’t know your own power, Y/n. And that scares them.”
As they continued through the winding countryside, the tension between them only grew—unspoken words and undeniable attraction lingering in the air. Their connection was building, growing stronger with every mile.
They were getting closer to Whitby, and something in both of them told them that everything would change once they arrived.
Chapter 4 >
#sebastian stan#sebastianstan#buckybarnes#james bucky barnes#james buchanan barnes#bucky fanfic#bucky fanfiction#bucky vampire au#bucky x reader#bucky x you#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes fanfiction
25 notes
·
View notes
Text
An essay on the Tweaks, how I view their relationship with their son, and what it means for their futures
Although I’m not the biggest fan of people who portray the Tweaks as loving parents, all things considered, I also don’t believe they are as evil and malicious as some make them out to be.
I have SUCH a love/hate relationship with those guys, and it’s because as shitty as they are, they’re also both WONDERFULLY complex characters who are just shrouded in mystery. They’ve been on the show for SO long and yet we know so little about them. To be fair, they could be interpreted in any way, as we don’t quite know their intentions, HOWEVER they do seem to love their son in a sense, so crummy as they may be, I do think that there’s a bit more to all of it.
Mr. Tweak is willing to do anything for his business, even at the expense of his morals. We see this exact plot in “Gnomes”, where he is willing to use small children as a manipulation tactic to get people to care about his business.
Tweek is going to inherit the shop one day, and Richard knows this. They BOTH know this. So he’s gotta prepare him in the exact same way HE was taught, to become ONE with Tweek Bros coffee and to ALWAYS put the business first, even if it’s not right. He loves Tweek in his own way, but ultimately he sees him as a business accessory first and a son second.
I’ve also mentioned in a previous post that I think Mr. Tweak sees a lot of his younger self in Tweek. It’s no secret that Mr. Tweak doesn’t seem to view his son very highly, referring to him as “nothing but a sp*z” so to speak, and if Tweek is going to take over the business one of these days, he needs to be sure of himself, not some “twitchy, tweaked out kid”. Richard knows this because HE was once like this. This was how HIS father raised him, and look how he turned out :)
Of course, by Tweek’s age, he was already had TWICE the work ethic, but no matter, just means he needs to push harder, right?
When Tweek turns 15, his father decides that he is finally old enough to learn the secret family recipe, as he and all the Tweak men before him did.
But it doesn’t go as expected, and Tweek has quite the opposite reaction that Richard hoped he would.
He feels appalled and betrayed, and why wouldn’t he? I mean his parents had both been drugging him his whole life, (as well as the whole town), essentially fucking him up for the foreseeable future. Even as an adult he still deals with twitches and tweaks. And they just expect him to be okay with it?? Tweek is a LOT more resilient than his predecessors, and he refuses to let this ruin his life.
But it’s not as easy as it looks. He’s been drinking his parents’ coffee for as long as he can remember, he doesn’t know how to be without it. He’s forced to spend a lot of high school in rehab, missing out on a lot of his teen years. Of course, Tweek has Craig by his side to make the process a lot easier, but it’s still a lot.
This definitely breaks the relationship he has with them, and Tweek finds that he can’t trust them any longer. Or course, his father just sees him as ungrateful. After all, he’s spent so long trying to shape him up into this hard working, young man, and THIS is the thanks he gets? Richard has always striked me as being someone who is nice until he’s no longer getting his way, and Tweek ultimately trying to break the cycle of abuse is exactly what hammers in the nail of their already strained relationship.
Mrs. Tweak is a different story. This isnt the first time she felt her husband has gone too far, we see her stand up for the kids in “gnomes”. I get the feeling that she’s always known what they were doing was wrong, yet she still went with it anyways. Why? Even she doesn’t know, in all honesty. Perhaps she had been manipulated into all of this as well, under the guise that it what was best, being brainwashed into this docile wife who just does as she’s told. Or perhaps it was always to her own accord, and she’s been in on it all along. We really don’t know enough to know for sure.
Her son refuses to talk to her, and she understands why. She’s always has wanted what was best for him, but they’ve gone too far, WAY too far, and things were never gonna be the same now.
But she hopes that, perhaps, with time, there will be some healing.
28 notes
·
View notes
Text
my crippling obsession with Elio is back at it again so here's some takes and theories
i think elio's main strength isnt his curse/blessing to see the future but his monster ability to analyze the situation accordingly and read people's emotions/thoughts. Since his ability only allows him to see the multiple possibilities of the future, that means he still has to maneuver his human resources optimally on his own.
He seems to be great at mind games, knows how to read people's hearts as sam said, and appears to be a pragmatist who doesn't mind sacrifice. i mean we're talking abt the guy who foresaw the crisis of the luofu long before the matrix could ever and did nothing, the one who orchestrated the fall of Jepella Brotherhood so that the Annihilation Gang succeeds it only for them to fall too and allow acheron into penacony, the one who foresaw sunday's plan and only acted last minute. all because the time had to be right.
and ofc i'm going to mention his concept art, i know it was a deal breaker for many but personally? I LOVE IT. A master manipulator hiding behind high trusting features and his young age? i know this point of view goes both ways but i think him being young (by anime logic he looks YA to me) actually adds more depth. Elio has always been fascinating exactly because he's mysterious, there's many possibilities to what he's truly like. A boy who witnessed the demise of the universe in nearly every possibility, doomed by fate yet fights against it. does he curse his powers? does he feel obliged to go through all this? or does he latch into that tiny hope he saw? does he not care for the innocent or is he like kevin who realized sacrifice is a must?
i also initially expected him to be an older man but im used to young anime prodigies lol if anything him being younger sets him for doom and tragedy.
Aside from his physical appearance, i think we all agree that Elio is the black cat, but lemme cook here....im 100% sure (would be funny if im wrong) that Elio doesnt physically move from his HQ. why? cuz they always avoid mentioning his appearance. not when he recruited kafka nor with SW, the only 2 so far that elio personally recruited.
"A man, a woman, a metal humanoid, and..."
"There is a chance she will stop to investigate the can. Then, take the chance to throw this ball at her feet. I will take over and converse with her from there. "
in kafka's case it's implied that elio would converse with her through the ball, and it also further implies that elio works with 'contractors' who arent part of the SH, some speculate the rest of the umbrellas on kafka's splashart might be them.
also, this is too funny to pass so ill put it here :
"There is also a chance that Kafka will ignore the can. In that case, just throw the ball away. You will die, but death will come for everyone. As for the future that you yearn for - I will realize it."
heck i even believe the rest of SH dont know what elio looks like. it makes sense that elio would be cautious and hide his identity, he even uses another alias. this world has factions that can manipulate and access memories after all.
About his powers...idk why there's this misconception in the fandom? but we can simply conclude from kafka who's the second in command and the only other person to swear loyalty to elio that both of them do not believe in a predetermined fate.
actually nvm i know where the confusion comes from, it's the script. how the script works is still a mystery but in kafka's companion question she answers by a no (truth) to whether fate is predetermined, that alone is the answer to elio's belief. if else why would he waste his time trying to change a fate that cannot be altered? So he's lying to his companions now? kafka says his powers see the many possibilities of choices that merge to make the present. i dont think the script is part of his powers but just his compiled knowledge of the actions ppl will take, and many of those choices and actions converge to create the same result, therefore there's a fate that can't be escaped and that is the script, and that's the only destiny that exists.
now in the SU, there's an interesting occurrence :
Fuli adresses us as Elio even though we are akivili in the SU, this lead to theories abt elio being akivili but i'd beg to differ. fuli also addresses us as nanook. so are we saying nanook is akivili and elio? i think this links fuli with elio more than anything and here's how :
We know that elio is trying to kill nanook, and to that he created TB with the help of an unknown aeon. Elio's powers might seem like they're a gift from terminus, the aeon of finality, elio could have the identity of an omen vanguard, but his design just like sunday's has some Order elements, making him a potential follower of the order. Fuli being on Elio's side makes sense. there's no way elio can know of ppl's existances in this very vast universe solely from watching intertwined fates. SW only caught his attention after she proved herself against screwllum, meaning he isnt able to know of everyone. and his ability doesnt allow him to peak to the past, so he cannot possibly be aware of everyone's deep desires right? thus fuli granting him their memories allows him to understand better how to reach out to them. let's take sunday's letter as example, how is elio aware of the dove and how much it meant to sunday?
i think fuli's message means something along the lines of time is running out. on the other occasion of fuli's appearance they show us a memory of kafka hmmmm
but wait! it gets better. i was reading fu xuan's lore and i couldn't believe the extra possibility, here's this :
"The girl did not open her eyes, yet she could already see the world around her condense into solid form from nebulous mist, see all possibilities fade and leave behind the solitary, absolute, and faultless "choice." "
isnt this awfully similar? indeed there's differences in their powers and how they use them. fu xuan uses the eye to see the one true possibility from all the others, with it she can keep exploring the many possibilities, this at least is very alike.
do you realize what that means? nous actually isnt just a space robot, they cook, they cook too good and they might be the one on elio's side which is CRAZY to say the least. if fuli can help elio see the past and know of things he otherwise cant know, then nous would be able to do the same because they know everything there's in the world, and can help modify TB to store the stellaron. ISNT IT CRAZY?? MAH BOI IS FAVORED! but that only convinces me that terminus is more and more useless lolz
also we see fu xuan possesing a third eye, in elio's case his eyes are totally changed, unworldly.
think it's worth mentioning that fu xuan isnt able to see TB's future meanwhile elio is able to and even a supposedly unreliable heliobi :
this isnt the first time we were compared to nanook or told that we will ascend i just don't have the proof lol, with that in mind what does elio want to accomplish? maybe TB was created in naook's image? from their memories? so that someday we overtake them...maybe Elio might've created a person who wouldn't deviate from his script to ensure their ascension. Kafka never told us the 3rd way to kill an aeon .
On another hand ppl are speculating that the one who talks in the dreamscape pass is elio, im not sure abt that tbh...they mentioned aha twice for me to think it might be sampo lol but elio makes sense, and if it's truly him then oh god he is silly lolol
some also say the voice of narrator at the end of penacony might be elio since CN recognized the va, i play in jp and i think it was shimono hiro? i was like this is too popular of a va to be giving to a narrator TT
Also it seems like some plot points are inspired from a game called ghost trick (IT'S GREAT!! AND I FEEL RLY EMPTY INSIDE) once I finished it I finally understood something that I didn't before, what it meant for terminus to go to the past to recite the prophecy of the future. Not spoilers dw
anyways i feel so much better now ty for reading all the way!
#im not sure how i feel abt shimono hiro voicing him cuz#to me i can only hear zenitsu pls make it stop TT#it was rly hard getting over lyney's voice lol#i kept thinking abt this for the past 3 weeks i finally wrote it 😭#will be making a Sunday and fu xuan one hopefully soon I HAVE THINGS TO SAY#hsr theory#hsr thoughts#honkai star rail#star rail#hsr#hsr elio#did i mention that i feel really empty inside after finishing ghost trick? yeah#if there are any typos know that I'm not accountable
34 notes
·
View notes
Text
I have some Thoughts on Evangelion, and I'm hyperfixating right now, so here's a massive info-dump on it. Thank you and I'm sorry.
(trigger warnings for: child abuse, child death, gore mention, pedophilia, mental health, depression, suicide, and potentially more.)
———————————————→
So, my take on the End Of Evangelion is like a 'Worst Timeline AU.' So what would've happened if Shinji had given into the crippling (justified) trauma and deepest depression of an abused, manipulated, and unfathomably damaged child soldier.
The way Misato constantly screams at him throughout the entire series to 'be a man' and pressures him to get into the EVA and fight literal biblical, kaiju-like angels.
The pressure of trying and failing to get a crumb of praise or approval from his neglectful and spiteful father.
The way people (and fans, tbh) get upset with him for constantly changing his mind. How if he doesn't pilot the EVA, either he or his friends could die. The pressure every adult puts on him. Or again, the absolute cosmic terror of just seeing—let alone having to murder these angels.
Of course, he quits all the time, he's 14. He's a child. An average adult with all the combat training in the world would easily do the same.
Yet he comes back again and again, because of the guilt, the self-loathing, the manipulation of the adults around him—
(who can have all the greatest intentions in the world, "the greater good", etc etc, and it doesn't change a goddamn thing that they are putting these children into death machines and treating it like if they dont do it they are selfish and worthless)
—that if he doesn't do it, his friends will do it and either they or others will die if it's not him.
Like, the point isn't that he can't make up his mind: it's the fact that even if he "gives up", he still keeps coming back, and putting himself before others, despite the grief, despite the pain, despite the trauma
A fourteen-year-old child refuses to stop getting up and trying. Which I feel is symbolic of the whole shows entire meaning, no matter how dark things are, how much you hurt, how much others hurt you, how you feel like nothing, and you want it all to just stop—the pain, the memories, the guilt, the crushing weight of complete utter depression—even as the darkest envelops you and holds you tight, you feel like you can never escape: there is ALWAYS a way out of it.
It's fucking hard, you will lose yourself in it, you will hurt so, so much—but eventually you can find your way out. Through time, through loved ones, through therapy, and more. It's never too late or someone is too far gone in their own despair that they can't be saved and brought back.
And that's not even mentioning the other children. Fans enjoy Asuka more than Shinji because she's got that quick, snappy, high-energy personality. She's overly proud and stubborn, and she loves to fight in her EVA. And Rei, she's the shy quiet girl (a Kuudere, even (didnt like writing that)) designed to be mysterious, and to speculate over. Who is she? Why is she so calm? Does she have a personality behind that demeanor?
But, just like Shinji, they are all child soldiers, and like him, they are products of trauma and manipulation by adults.
Rei, was made in a fool-hearted attempt to bring back Shinji's mother, Yui Ikari, by combining her remains with Lilith. What they got was Rei. An assimilation of Yui, Lilith, Eva, all combining into Rei Ayanami.
Her creators obviously had attachments to her, both having loved Yui before her death, and Gendo Ikari almost took her on as a daughter-like figure (Rei being the name he would've given to his child Shinji, if he had been born a girl,) and revoltingly even more than that.
But as the theme of the series goes, good intentions from adults mean very little, and often act as nothing more than an excuse for creating/doing inconceivably monstrous acts.
She is of course used as an EVA pilot, being able to manipulate her form into a 14-year-old. She is used as a tool. She is replaceable. She knows this. She has no desires because no one has ever cared enough about Rei as her own person to let her think for herself, asked her what she wants, her likes, her dreams, her fears.
Rei's entire existence at this point is to serve, and in an eerie way, the only thing she wants is to serve Gendo, because he's shown her the only breadcrumbs of "compassion" she's ever known.
And then Shinji comes along. Shinji has no idea what she is, only that she is another EVA pilot like himself. He speaks to her as he would anyone else. He cares about her, and her well-being as another person. Actual true compassion.
In episode 06, when Rei is hurt and thought to have died by Shinji, he pries open the hatch to her EVA, ignoring the scalding heat that burns his hands to do so. He finds her alive and cries, and she smiles for him.
This scene is an exact parallel that takes place before with Rei and Gendo (Shinji's father.) He pries open the hatch, scalding his hands too, and finds her alive inside. It's identical except for one thing: Compassion.
Shinji fights to free and help Rei, and when he sees her alive, he is overcome with relief that she, Rei, is alive. He is in tears, he tells her she isn't nothing, implying her life is worth something and people care about her.
When Gendo does it, he does it like a man trying to save a valuable asset. He sees she's okay, and mutters 'I see', and that's the end of it.
Again, in episode 23, when Rei actually dies and is replaced; she is confronted by herself (the Meta Rei, the Rei in her purest, most godly self. A combination of all her sense of beings,) and realizes that she is feeling, she is lonely, she is suffering, and for the first time she cries, and asks herself if this just for her love of Gendo, before sacrificing herself in death to save everyone—specifically shinji.
She is replaced by her many clones, but this time she regains some of her memories, her feelings, her anger, and she is more human now, less vessel, more soul. She is Rei.
In the End of Evangelion, we see the depths of Gendo's depravity. He wants his wife, Yui, back as she was, of course. But in the meanwhile, there's Rei. Rei who is part Yui—a substitute. He touches her breast, an attempt to merge with her, and moves his hand down further to rest between her hips, inside her.
Rei is as much his daughter figure and a child, as she is a part of his own wife, and arises from this: an Oedipus Complex. Gendo treats her as a disposable tool, yet holds Yui at his highest priority. She is his to do with as she likes. How many times has he used her like this? How many times has he committed these atrocities with this child behind closed doors?
Amongst everything else Rei is, she is also a victim of pedophilia.
And in her final moments, while he attempts to merge with Rei in a delusional attempt to bring back Yui, Rei becomes her own being. Rei puts her foot down and says no. She's had enough.
"I will not be a puppet for you to control."
She takes the hand of Adam, fully merges with Lilith, and becomes a God.
And what does she do with all that power? She takes it all, and gives it to Shinji. The one person that ever consistently showed her care and compassion, showed her love. Made her realize she is her own person, gives her the strength to realize her worth and refuse Gendo Ikari, and choose her own path.
Her choice can be argued as good or bad, both. But in the end it was REI's choice, and no one elses.
Asuka uses her anger and her fighting as a means to cope with a barbaric childhood. Her mother, Kyoko, underwent a Contact Experiment when Asuka would have been ~5 years old.
Kyoko survived, but lost her mind completely, thinking her real daughter was actually a doll, and leaving Asuka completely neglected by her mother, all whilst begging and trying to convince her that SHE was her real daughter, not some doll she clung to.
Meanwhile, her father was completely unaffected by this, and even had moved on with another woman (An affair that had been going on before Kyoko fell apart completely, the woman being Kyoto's doctor, that she knew about, and took place in their own home while both mother and daughter were present.) Throwing himself back into his own life with this new woman, and job, Asuka was left with nothing.
Asuka's mother finally snaps and plans her own suicide. She invites Asuka, and with nothing else and wanting nothing more than to be acknowledged by anyone, agrees to take their lives together.
As if all of this isn't bad enough, as a final blow, Asuka's mother takes her own life without Asuka, leaving a five-year-old CHILD to find her mother hanging lifelessly, betrayed and alone again.
Her entire personality isn't because she's 'cool' or 'bossy', its an unfathomably traumatized child, constantly in pain and unable to trust anyone, because she has been taught as an infant that she can not rely on the people meant to care for her, because her parents taught her that in the most brutal and disturbing way possible.
There's even reference to her trying to repeat her mother's suicide after disappearing from the fight, only to be found gravely injured and withering away in a bathtub.
She fights so hard to be independent because she refuses to let herself be hurt and abandoned again.
At the End of Evangelion, even when she is screaming and crying, bleeding to death after being speared through the eye, losing power, and being cannibalized alive in her EVA, she is still so desperate, so angry, that she refuses to die, swearing vengeance on her enemies through dying rattled breaths, and it isn't until she is bombarded with blades that she finally succumbs. And at the hands of NERV.
Again, she, and every single EVA pilot, is only 14 years old.
tldr: The series is about child trauma, children being turned into soldiers, the failings of adults around them, and the tragically brutal and real aftermath of the wreaks of havoc that would have on a child.
#I had to get this out of me because the loud fanbase for this show is fucking putrid#and also im hyperfixating and needed to get that out of my system LMAO#evangelion#neon genesis evangelion#eva#end of evangelion#evangelion shinji#evangelion asuka#evangelion rei#shinji ikari#asuka langley sōryū#rei ayanami#kyoko zeppelin sōryū#saiyū langley#gendo ikari#yui ikari
270 notes
·
View notes
Text
Homestuck Reread: Act 3, Part 1/3 (p. 760-891)
Read the previous post here.
Time for the beginning of Act 3! An inauspicious start, since the Act begins with Jade's introduction.
So I guess the "reader" is still acknowledged as a thing. And they're actively attempting to manipulate Jade. I wonder how much longer this will last for.
Jade has so many interests, you guys! So many! And I'm sure each and every one of them will be relevant to her character as well!
Also, she needs reminders so she doesn't forget about the things she's interested in? What?
Why does Jade have so many variants of fetch modus when none of these will ever show up again? Actually, the whole modus system continues to be really dumb and that's probably why it's rarely mentioned in the later acts.
Jade's precognition again being treated as just a fun lil' quirk. Gosh, she's just so quirky, right fellas? So many modi, so many interests. She's just so silly and fun, right? Right???
Honest confession time. When I first read Homestuck, I had no idea that a "eureka lemon" was an actual variety of lemon. Of course I've heard of crab apples, key limes, and mandarin oranges, but it never occurred to me that a eureka lemon was also a real thing. I didn't figure this out until years later.
Wait wait wait. Hold the phone. Jade is a fan of old cartoons? When is that ever referenced again outside of the occasional mention of Squiddles (a show that isn't real)? What the fuck? John likes movies, has posters in his room, and name drops his favorites on a regular basis. Why does Jade not talk about any cartoons she likes???
Physics, gadgetry, and gardening are all shit that aren't ever mentioned again either, but I was at least aware of those things being related to her, at least on a surface level. Jade's whole thing (well, what I assume Hussie ostensibly intended to be her thing) is that she's this genius wiz kid. And her username is gardenGnostic, so of course horticulture has to be somehow related to her character. This whole cartoon thing is seriously new knowledge to me, though.
Grandpa Harley was a real renaissance man with a multitude of interests, so it's natural that Jade takes after him. The problem is that Grandpa is dead and he's less of a character than he is this mysterious symbol that Jade both admires and resents. It doesn't matter whether or not he's fleshed out, but Jade is a main character, so by necessity she must be or else she comes across as half-baked.
Jade has two pages dedicated to her interests, yet none of them are relevant to her character. She never talks to anyone else about gardening or anthros or anything like that. She doesn't use her scientific knowledge to help solve a problem. Her guns only serve the same basic combat purpose as the other kids' kind abstratus, but beyond that she isn't a gun nut.
One can point to stuff like John's interest in programming or Dave's love of photography as examples of extraneous character traits that don't ever manifest later on in the comic. But in Jade's case, it's nearly all of them. Hussie could've filled these pages with anything he wanted, but nothing would alter the existing perception of Jade being nothing more than "silly, upbeat girl who can see into the future." This is what I meant when I said earlier that she doesn't have any character to speak of. Or rather, she's just extremely shallow.
And because Jade doesn't have enough quirks already, her shirt randomly changes designs. Wow! Incredible!
These "manthro chaps" are honestly more unnerving and sexually charged than the smuppets. I don't ever see anyone reference them nearly as often, and probably for good reason. Unlike the smuppets, they're too close to resembling humans and are very uncanny. This feels like a deranged fetish thing, but it's being played off as more silly, quirky bullshit. "Slop trough" is a phrase I never want to read again.
Right. Hating furries was very much en vogue back in 2009, I'd say more so than the present. However, Hussie is going to great lengths to portray Jade as one of the "good ones." Her interest in anthros is non-sexual in nature and she does not partake in "cringe" furry activities like wearing fursuits and engaging in sexual activities with other furries. As stated before, the manthro chaps are being depicted as wholesome make believe, not in a feral/pet play context (despite the fact that that's exactly what it looks like).
This is just Hussie taking pot shots at a subculture that has historically been a very easy target for ridicule. I'm not even sure why he decided to make Jade a furry in the first place if he was going to draw lines in the sand like this. What an incredible dickhead. And since this is written from Jade's perspective, it makes her a dickhead too.
There are a few times later on where Jade comes across as rude or judgmental, coming at odds with her otherwise unflinchingly polite and optimistic disposition. Needless to say, this does little to endear her to me.
Like John, Jade also has a chest full of shit that doesn't end up mattering. Come to think of it, this whole intro sequence feels extremely drawn out, kind of like John's. John at least had the excuse of being the first character and he required a long intro in order to establish the tone and mechanics. We've gotten a good handle on things by the time we reach Rose and Dave, so their intros weren't nearly as involved. So why the fuck is Jade's taking so long? We know this whole routine, we've done it three times now. Can we get the fuck on with the story already!?
This is a really bizarre sequence of pages where the "reader" is forced to match the memory cards of Jade's modus, only to fail at it repeatedly while both Jade and Hussie judge them for it.
Man... I know it's a common fandom notion that Jade is the most neglected and underutilized of the main cast of kids, but you seriously wouldn't have guessed that based on all these early pages. She feels more like Hussie's favorite, if anything.
Every passage he seems to talk about her with affection and a total absence of snark, not like the other kids who are regarded with bemusement at best or mockery at worst when they do something foolish. Here the derision is solely focused on the reader for their apparent cluelessness, and both Hussie and Jade are on the same side. C'mon, Jade's just offering the reader to play this game and they fail because they're obviously not as smart as she is. Serves them right for that earlier, boorish suggestion that this wonderful girl might be a, gasp, disgusting fursuit-wearing degenerate!
There's something a little off about how this then-30 year old man created this 13 year old girl who's so sweet and perfect in every way, and whom he dedicates so many pages showing us every single one of her quirks and all the amazing things she has in her home. But I don't really want to dwell further on this, so I'll be moving on.
"But he does like his steak well cooked."
"He does prefer his steak rare after all."
Well, which is it??? Does he like his steak well or rare? Does Hussie not know the difference between these terms? Has he never cooked a steak before?
Dave Strider? More like Dave Simper. He is incredibly down bad. She's obviously not online, dude. Get out of her DMs. He's also facetiously engaging her with furry roleplay. God, Dave, get a clue! ERP is something only cringy furries do and as established previously, Jade is most definitely not one of those types of furries!
The Midnight Crew get their own dedicated flash. These guys sure are getting teased a lot, despite just being characters from an in-universe webcomic. I wonder what it could mean...
FINALLY we get to the Strider fight. Well, it's more like Dave vs. Cal rather than Dave vs. Bro. Not to try and crack open more Bro discourse, but the idea that people will try to equate Dave getting clowned on by a puppet with actual child abuse is absurd. I don't see how this is any different than the previous strifes John and Rose had with their parents.
FUCK it was only for one page. We're back to Jade again. You know, if I had a friend who knew whenever I was about to have an internet outage and acted all smarmy about it, I would probably stop talking to them.
"Grandpa Moreau over there on Hellmurder Island" is a good line. Thank you Rose for providing some levity to this slog of pages I've been enduring.
Another GameFAQs page, but this section is written by John for some reason. He brings up a great point about how nobody is reading these damn things. If you're some nudnik who truly gives a shit about how punch card alchemy works, oh boy do I have a page for you!
Jade dislikes hunting and it was mentioned earlier that she'd never shoot an animal. It strikes me as odd that she has such a passion for guns, but not hunting. What does she shoot then? She's a "skilled markswoman" but do we ever see a shooting range or anything to practice her skills? I can't imagine there's much else to shoot on this island aside from wildlife.
Grandpa Harley says Jade will grow up to be like the women in the photos he gets off to. I uh... I don't know how to feel about that. Other than perhaps it's for the best this old man is dead.
Wow! Who's this rude customer? What a crazy guy! Oh well, he was blocked so I don't think we'll ever see him again.
Finally at this point we take an extended reprieve from Jade. For the record, we're 99 pages into the Act. It took Rose 25 pages from her intro before the plot returned to John, and Dave 48 pages from his before turning back to Rose. (I'm not counting brief cuts to other characters for these counts, because the main focus is still on the recently introduced character). Nearly 100 pages of Jade showing off her house before going back to the plot. Augh!
Anyway, Rose actually reaches out and grabs the captcha card, which isn't something we've seen up to this point. This whole inventory system is weird, man.
I think it's all but directly stated that Mom Lalonde became an alcoholic because she has known the exact date the world was going to end. A sad detail.
Part 2 of the Strider fight ends with Bro yeeting Dave down the stairs. Again, I can't see this scene as serious representation of legitimate child abuse, especially with the fucking SBaHJ jokes at the end. The tone is so comedic and outrageous I don't understand anyone who takes it seriously.
Honestly, the earlier scenes with Dave roaming the apartment, being surrounded by weapons and sex toys, making comments of how he has difficulty accessing food, and being videotaped for Bro's fetish films paint a much better image of an abusive household than any of this strife shit. I don't want to try and argue that Bro isn't a bad guardian, because he definitely is, but there's this notion in the fandom that he does all this because he hates Dave and wants him to suffer, and I don't think that's true at all. His actions read more like neglect and carelessness, not malice.
You can make a list of all Bro's crimes, but hating his brother is not one of them.
John wins his fight against the ogres. There's an earlier page where we see him getting the tar kicked out of him (with the same over the top slapstick animations during the Dave vs. Bro fight, mind you), but it's only after Nannasprite and Rose join to help that he's able to achieve victory. He really can't do anything on his own, can he?
How about a "thank you, Rose, for beating those ogres for me"? Dickhead.
No "thank you" for Nannasprite, either. Instead he asks her to carry him to the gate, since he already knows Rose can't do it. This kid really sucks.
Now that I'm a third of the way done with Act 3, I have to say Jade is some honest to god Mary Sue shit. I don't like using that term because it's been misused to the point of uselessness, but come on. Compare Jade to the three previous kids and tell me that this girl isn't the most ridiculous character in this lineup.
We have John, the goofy cornball that likes pranks and watching bad movies; Rose, the smug pseud that likes the occult and writing lousy fiction; Dave, the aloof hipster that likes rapping and making shitty comics; and Jade, the genius manic pixie furry girl with a randomly changing wardrobe that can see into the future, lives on a private island full of crazy hi-tech gadgets, was raised by a radioactive dog, and likes physics, gardening, sharpshooting, bass guitar, and inventing.
Fuck me. If I was DM for a DnD session and someone submitted a character sheet like that against three normal ones, I'd tell them to leave. Why can't she just be a normal kid like the others? It's all so jarring!
Suddenly I'm wishing I was back reading Act 1 again.
Read the next post here.
#homestuck#homestuck reread#jade harley#dave strider#rose lalonde#john egbert#grandpa harley#karkat vantas#tw abuse mention#bro strider#mom lalonde#nannasprite#lil cal
28 notes
·
View notes