#one of my family members is being abused and i’m trying to help them escape their home to come live with me

[strawberrybyers]

what in the fuck did the universe put in 2024??? this year is actually cursed lmfao. and may has been a month from hell. i actually haven’t had a good moment at all this month??? and it’s ONLY getting worse as it nears the end???

[heylittlethoughts]

14Days of MHA - Day 1 - Family

@Pikahula posted about fourteen days of My Hero Academia. As much as they have given us, it felt wrong to not participate. MHA and this fandom has given me so much. I’ve written fanfic in private for some time and this felt like a good time to post some of it for the first time. Hope you enjoy my take on the Family prompt.

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Content warning/context: Festival Day included a family event. Reader, gender neutral, Class 1-A, family/childhood trauma (emotional, narcissist abuse, CPTSD). Found family fluff, Katsuki x Reader fluff. Word count: 1.8k

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Class 1-A made their way to the courtyard for their turns to meet up with their family members. You followed along quietly lost in a world of thoughts.

You understood why the school decided to add the family event. It was jarring for some students to be away from family. A part of you was worried that yours would show up today though, just to berate you yet again for picking a life they didn’t agree with. They signed off on the dorms more as way to get you out of their life than in acceptance of your choice to be a hero. Whatever their motive, you were excited to have a layer of protection from your family trying to antagonize you daily.

Mina interrupted your thoughts with a bubbly bump into your shoulder “Hey, are you excited?!”

“Oh, yeah for sure” you forced a cheerful smile.

“Raccoon eyes, what are you doing bumping into people?” Katsuki barked at her.

“I’m just excited.” she spun around in a circle while walking. “I haven’t seen them since…” You tuned out the conversation as you caught Katsuki’s gaze giving him an appreciative smile.

When families came up in conversation you brushed it off, kept things vague, or found some excuse to leave the conversation. It’s not like you remembered much of your childhood to have anything to tell. Therapist said that was the CPTSD trying to protect you, the build up of painful little moment after little moment over the years.

The only person who knew anything was Katsuki. Because of course he was observant of that too. One night studying at his house, he noticed you getting sad watching him interact with his parents, pressing it until you explained your situation. You don’t know if he fully understood being low or no contact with family. Even so, he helped take the attention off you when it came up in group conversations after that.

You found a bench on the edge of the courtyard and leaned back on your hands as you sat down. Seeing everyone smile and hug their families made you smile. Everyone was so happy, some of them crying with joy, others laughing, some bubbly excitement at catching up with family in person.

It all was almost enough to make you get up and join. Some of the groups were mingling together, it’s not like anyone would turn you away. As you started to shift to stand, you stopped yourself. This event isn’t for you. Let them all have their time with their families. Don’t be a burden, you thought.

That familiar wave of sadness, loneliness, anxiety, whatever it was, it washed over you. You threw your head back to look up at the sky. Blinking to the adjustment of light, or to blink away the tears that pricked at your eyes.

A woman’s voice forced your head to whip back forward. “Hi there.” It was Mitsuki.

“Hello.” You said as you sat up straight on the bench. You hadn’t notice how sprawled out your arms where. “Sorry, did you want to sit down?” you offered nervously. Had she seen me tearing up?

“Thank you, could use the break from all that commotion.” She laughed lightly as her hand motioned back towards Katsuki barking at Kaminari, while Masaru was apologizing to Kaminari’s family.

You couldn’t help the snicker that escaped and the genuine smile that crossed your face. For whatever reason Katsuki did that to you. Him just existing was like a bright star in the dark sky always leading you back to where you should be.

Mitsuki caught you watching her son. “That boy of ours is such a handful” she had the tone of years of exhaustion from raising him. It was the layer of love and admiration mixed in, that caught you off guard.

That was the difference, you thought. Your family would say you were exhausting but meant it to hurt, that they would have preferred not to have you, that you were a burden. Mitsuki loved her son through it all, his attitude, his explosive energy, she loved him. What does it feels like to have a family that actually loves you, you let your mind wonder before cutting the thought off and steadying your mind back to the conversation.

“He’s not all that bad.” you smiled “It’s just how he communicates.” You couldn’t help the flutter of butterflies in your stomach as you looked at Katsuki, now laughing with the group. He had the most amazing smile.

Before either of you could say anything else, you saw Katsuki notice you and his face change. Something of surprise, annoyance maybe, or was he flustered it was you talking to his mother. “Hey Hag, what are you doing bothering people?” He yelled.

“Katsuki!” Mitsuki stood with authority. “Could you behave yourself for once?” she yelled back at him. She turned back to you, “I’m so sorry for him.” she said with a sweet apologetic smile.

“None needed” you smiled as you laughed. You’d seen them interact before and knew he was nothing but bark towards her. You found it cute how they yelled and argued with each other, knowing it wasn’t from any place of anger or actual resentment, it was endearing.

As they continued to bicker from across the courtyard, your smile and laughter faded. You couldn’t stop the waves of emotions crashing into you. Your face slipped into your thoughts. I was so behaved, and yet they never treated me with such love. Why? What did I do wrong? Why wasn’t I good enough? Why couldn’t they just love me?

Even from his distance across the courtyard, Katsuki noticed your face drop. “YN, you good?” he called over, calmer, concerned. Their fighting put on pause as Mitsuki turned to look at you as well with that same concern across her face.

Tears were pooled at the rim of your eyes. “Huh?” you said as you blinked and they streamed down your cheeks, tuning you into why they were you looking at you with such concern. No, no, don’t be a burden.

You shook your head and brushed your eyes with the back of your hands. “I’m fine.” you called out, you didn’t even believe yourself. “I don’t know what happened” you steadied yourself a bit more. “Must have been a bug or something in my eye. I’ll be right back” you were already standing and a step towards the direction of the bathrooms before all the words were out.

“Dear.” Mitsuki said almost a whisper. She took the stride towards you and wrapped you in a tight hug.

What was happening? The mix of intrusive thoughts and the warmth of a genuine hug were pulling you at opposite ends. “I’m ok-ay” your voice breaking from the now full crying that was happening.

She gently shushed you as she pulled you in tighter. “It’s okay if this is hard.” How does she- Did Katsuki tell her?

“You’ve done so much for my son, please let me be here for you.” she pulled you back to arms length to look in your eyes. Her voice sterned, she made sure you were listening before saying “Family doesn’t have to blood. It’s who you want it to be. You are not robbed of new love because of any lack of it in the past.”

Your chin trembled as you held back sodding, tears escaping down your cheeks. She pulled you back into a hug. Maybe so you don’t embarrass her, crying out in the open like this. your sinical thought intruding. You forced it away. Maybe because this is how real parents comfort their kids. You thought to yourself in a softer voice. You wrapped your arms around her and pulled yourself into the embrace.

She continued “We will be here for you, anytime you need it.”

You let yourself sob, muffled into her.

She continued “You are important to my son, so you are important to me. More than that, you are amazing on your own. You don’t deserve to feel so alone, my dear.” You could feel her head shift looking back to everyone in the courtyard. “You have so many people here who are your family. I know any of them will let you lean on them when you need it. Okay?”

You nodded against her as your breath steadied. You weren’t sure if you fully believed her. You knew everyone here was your friend, but you never wanted to burden someone else with your mess of trauma. Would they still truly want to be there for you if they knew how much of a mess you actually were?

Your thoughts were interrupted at the sound of Katsuki barking from somewhere next to you. “What are you doing hag? Trying to suffocate them?”

You felt yourself move before you realized where you were going. Mitsuki had turned and softly pushed you into Katsuki’s arms. He hesitantly held you not sure what was happening.

“Katsuki, Stop yelling.” Mitsuki said as she hit the top of his hand passing by him back to Masaru in the courtyard. You saw her turn and smile sweetly towards you. Almost a giving permission or maybe giving the mom order of let it happen, let us love you.

Katsuki’s energy shifted, concerned, feeling the tension in your body and the jagged breaths from your crying. You were still sniffling as you regained composure. “Family shit get to you?” he said in a soft grumble as he hugged you with more intention.

“Yeah” you said softly curling into his chest. He was warm and smelled sweet. Something about him always calmed your nerves. Taking a deep breath, “I’m such a mess. I was trying so hard to not let it ruin anyone’s day.”

“Fuck that!” he barked above you. Taken aback, you looked up towards him. That cocky smile across his face. “You’re amazing. The only way you’re ruining anyone’s day is by sulking over here by yourself.” he said with confidence and a hint of pink crossing his face.

A soft smile settled on your face as you leaned into him. “Thank you” you mumbled sweetly into him. You could just barely see the pink turn a shade darker.

“Come on already.” he said turning away from you while grabbing you hand. “Let’s go back to the idiots.” This version of him was one of your favorites. He was softer, gentle even. He made you feel safe and important.

As you walked back to the groups of friends and their families, their bright faces washing away any anxiety you might have had joining in on their fun. You smiled and laughed and thought, maybe it was true. That it’s okay to be loved. It’s okay to make a new family.

That even though it was chance that you all were in the same class, that this was your family and you are forever grateful for them all.

[s-creations]

Can we do the one where person be escapes from an abusive relationship with Luigi being person B and Mario being person A? Movie-verse, ofc, because their relationship is just so pure and they are the best brothers.

Threat/Help/Wounded/Angst Prompt

Person B finally got rid of an abusive relationship (whether it’s a family member or their s/o), and Person A does their best to help them recover. @shadow-angel7

(Uh, so, this came out a little darker than I meant? So I'm putting up a 'read more' line for this short.)

There was a lot of unintelligible shouting from the first floor. The changing tones indicated that people were trying to talk over the others to get their own point across. Softer tones were their mother and aunt to keep the calm. Even tones were their uncles, slow and sounding as if they were working through an issue logically.

The loudest of them all was their father. Ranting and raving. The phrase “I’m going to kill him!” and “They’re never gonna find his body!” on rotation as he no doubt paced the kitchen floor in anger. It was amazing the rest of the family had been able to keep their father in the house for this long. 

Mario tried to ignore it. Wanting to close the door to block out more of the yelling, but knew it needed to stay open. To offer a clear escape route. Just in case. 

He was pulled back to his current situation hearing Luigi let out a small whine in pain. Mario holding his younger brother’s hand in one of his own, the other holding a cotton ball soaked in hydrogen peroxide. Which had just barely touched the deep cut resting on Luigi’s arm. 

“You’re okay,” Mario whispered softly, “It’s gonna sting, but you’ll be fine.”

Luigi merely nodded back. 

The oldest tried to keep his focus on the current job. But he couldn’t keep his eyes from wandering over the other wounds that decorated Luigi’s pale skin. A heavily bruised black eye was settled over his right that was currently hidden by a bag of frozen peas. Bruises around his neck and upper right arm. Said arm also had numerous wrapping around it, hiding further cuts that Mario had just finished cleaning. Who was focusing on the cuts the left arm was carrying. 

This was definitely not how Mario thought this evening would be ending.

He certainly didn’t expect it to start with a frantic phone call from his younger brother to come pick him up from his ex-boyfriend’s house now. The calm early evening shattered when Mario heard angry shouting in the background with Luigi’s quick but shaky reply filling the older brother with rage. 

He was out the door before his parents could ask what was wrong. 

Kicking down the front door of the other with absolute fury. Brain fog focusing on finding Luigi, his little brother, with a hand wrapped around his neck and upper arm. The ex-boyfriend actually looked offended that someone would dare damage his front door and not about the person he was currently hurting. 

He wasn’t sure what happened. All Mario knew was that he was standing in the doorway one moment. The next, the ex was on the floor, supporting a busted him, Mario’s hand was hurting, and Luigi was behind him. 

“Don’t you dare lay a hand on my brother. Hope that I never see you again.” 

And with that, they were out. 

Mario fuming while Luigi was silently shaking as he followed behind. Their parents were in near hysteria when they arrived back home. Their mother immediately went to Luigi, hands hovering nervously over the numerous injuries he carried. Their father froze, just able to stand up from his chair before his muscles stopped working. Eyes wide as he took in the scene. 

“Mom…” Mario said softly, “I’m going to take Luigi upstairs, okay?”

She let out a small sob, but nodded slowly. Allowing Mario to disappear upstairs with his brother. Ignoring the rest of his family who had stuck their heads out the kitchen doorway. 

Which leads to their current situation. Family members arguing downstairs, trying to keep their father from going out to hunt the ex down. Mario focused on patching Luigi up as best he could. Keeping his hands and emotions stable. 

“There…that should feel better. Let me take a look at your eye.” Mario said softly, wincing as Luigi let out a hiss moving the frozen bag away. “Ah, not too bad… How are you feeling?” The younger brother shrugged weakly, unable to look up. 

“...Lu, I need you to talk to me. Were you hurt anywhere else?”

Luigi shook his head.

“Lu-”

“I’m sorry.”

Mario felt as if his heart was being stabbed. Swallowed his worries down as he moved to sit next to his brother. “What are you talking about? You don’t have anything to be worried about.”

“But you told me… You said he wasn’t good for me and I didn’t listen… Now you’re cleaning up my mess again.” Luigi sniffed weakly. Reaching up to rub at his good eye. 

Mario frowned softly as he pulled his brother close. Luigi eventually collapsed against the other, quietly crying as Mario gently rocked them back and forth. “You didn’t do a single thing wrong. You see the best in people, it’s a wonderful quality you have… I just wish I had seen the signs sooner…I wish I’d helped sooner.” 

“I didn’t let you help, I thought I could…I could fix it…”

“It’s not your job to fix everyone Weegee. You…just need to be yourself and the rest will follow. That doesn’t mean you’re… You can’t save everyone, you shouldn’t have to.” Mario said softly, gently rubbing Luigi’s back. 

“...I think dad’s upset.”

“I think dad wants to kill someone.”

Luigi laughed softly. “I thought he’d be this mad when I told him I was bi.”

“And I told you he wouldn’t care.” 

“Yeah, you’re right…you’re always right… Thanks Mario.”

“Anytime Lu… Seriously, anytime. I’m here to keep you safe.”

[rhysiespeeces]

pls tell more about casimir pls im beg

hi oh my god.. . . i will i will do that.

okay warnings are up now, wolfenstein is already a heavy game but cw for abuse, drug mentions, heavy stuff like that.

casimir majstrować

i’m going to be writing out his timeline. however. i’ll do my best to briefly explain it here.

he is one of the key members of the kreisau circle. he is very antisocial, doesn’t like people, especially fergus/wyatt (depending on which timeline he’s in). he’s the mechanic of the group, as he has his own pet panzerhund called dynia. she’s smaller than average, and she is super friendly, he spends most of his time with her and upgrading her. he has a VERY traumatic past, causing half of his face to be heavily burnt and a tooth pulled, which i might detail later. cas is a very stone cold person who hides his emotions, the only “acceptable” emotion to him being anger. he doesn’t often show happiness, or friendliness. he does work well in a team and when he needs to, and he does work extra well with wyatt/fergus. he suffers from chronic pain, which usually causes him to be reliant on an old form of medication they scavenge and steal. he often goes through withdrawal, and is usually left alone by the members of the kreisau circle. no one really likes him, apart from set, who views him almost as a son.

he is also an amazing marksman, and has several hideouts around berlin before the circle is stormed by frau engel.

essentially cas takes anya’s place. the basic idea i have for this is that when you escape the prison with wyatt/fergus, cas helps them out of the sewer instead. william doesn’t know where anya is, but they don’t have time to look so they leave. when they arrive back to the berlin hideout, william is insistant they search for anya, to which cas offers to help. unfortunately, the guards that she distracted had caught wind of what she was trying to do, and in an effort to run and hide, she ends up dying in the hotel they stayed at. (i’m sorry anya it was genuinely the only way i could think to take her out of the story before she formed a longer relationship with william)

most of casimir’s traumatic past revolves around his father being abusive. he grew up in a jewish polish family, with two sisters, a mother and father. growing up queer, his father tried to punish him for it and beat it out of him. one day he pushed him into a lake, “teaching him how to swim” which resulted in cas almost drowning, and now developing an extreme fear of water. obviouslt with these things, his relationship with william is rocky at first, but eventually they start to become each others support system. cas is open and honest with william, spends time with him, helps him with his weapons and upgrades, teaches him polish so he can speak it better. they grow close towards the end of the first game, they share their first kiss before william goes to the moon. william brings back a small piece of moon rock for him.

fergus/wyatt’s relationship with cas is funny to me. cas utterly hates wyatt, thinks he’s annoying, but he also won’t admit that he wants to be friends with him, and does actually speak to wyatt about serious stuff. with fergus, it’s a little more aggressive. they bully each other, but when it comes to working in a team they’re really good together. william honestly stands there and just goes 🧍‍♂️ while they’re having a yelling match.

honestly i could go on forever abt him bc i’ve got both his new order and new colossus story in my mind. still working through the new colossus story completely, and right now i’m replaying the first game to play fergus’ timeline.

[favoritebatfam]

Hey, my idea for how the Lazarus pits were created is that there was this witch coven. And by the term witch coven, I mean mostly children who had magic with like two or three adults who were responsible for the children and trying to hide from people who would kill them. They all were pretty much exiled and hiding from the world because the world was being cruel to them.

Then, there was this big plague/sickness/epidemic thing and even the magic people got really sick. So, three of the people who were not sick decided to see if they could create something that would heal them.

I see it as one of them being really young and raised in the coven, while the other two are teenagers who are just trying to save their family. I’m going to name the youngest Rachid, and the teens are Nesrine and Amine, just to make things easier for later. All of the adults are down for the count and none of them know what to do so they’re just looking through ancient magics, and the eventually create something that they call Stagnum salutis, which translates to The Pool of Salvation.

This helps heal all of the sick members of the coven, but the adults make sure that everyone knows not to use it often as it is dangerous magic, and they don’t know what would happen.

However, the villagers who live nearby, who some of the coven are hiding from, notice that the coven is better and end up thinking that the coven was the one who got them sick in the first place, which isn’t the case, but they are looking for someone to blame. The villagers end up mass occurring with coven, before finding Stagnum Salutis. The only three who are still alive are Nesrine, Rachid and Amine.

The villagers still think that these people created this plague, so they kill Rachid and burn their body so that they can’t go in the pit. Seeing this, the two survivors become enraged and use magic to try and fight. However, after Nesrine is slain in battle, Amine realizes that there is no way that they will survive. All he can do is make sure that their rage is never forgotten.

He starts chanting, recalling any magic he knows and drawing on the power and magic he has never dared to pull on too strongly. There’s so much ambient magic and so much death around them that it fuels his magic to unnatural height.

Amine curses the leader of the villagers with luck and ill Fortune, swearing that the village leader’s soul will not rest until he is reunited with Nesrine and Rachid.

He curses the water too, making sure that while it will heal the sick and dying, it will cause only pain and suffering onto those who abuse its waters. Those were healthy who attempt to take it will die and become fuel for the waters. The pit will determine who deserves its kindness.

This leads to Amine accidentally imbuing their own soul into the pits, causing him to ‘die’, but not before renaming the pool Piscina salutis et vindictae, which means The pool of Salvation and Vengeance.

Now, I really want a fanfiction based off of this where Ra’s is a descendent of a cowardly coven member who escaped so the waters are slightly kinder to him and his bloodline, while Jason is a descendent of the main villager, which is why the pit has such a strong reaction to him.

You could also have it so that the pit has sustained Amine’s soul enough that he can recognize his friend’s souls, and maybe one of the Batfam’s souls are the reincarnation of either Rachid or Nesrine, or possibly other members of their coven.

[porchenjoyer]

To everyone in these New Jersey school districts who is trying to out their transgender students: die immediately and in agony.

These quotes are particularly ghoulish:

"I'm sorry that some of the people in this room feel that parents should be left out of the conversation," said Lincroft resident Anthony (last name not given). "I have four boys, and if one of them was thinking about becoming a girl I'd want to know, so I could give them the help they need; so I can support them. If they are telling a teacher in school, I hope the teacher would contact me and say 'Hey, this is what's going on with your kid.' Not so I can abuse them, not for any other reason so I can help them, be there for them. Parents are the most important people in kids' lives. And we want to know what's going on with our kids."

You piece of shit. If your kid doesn’t tell you they’re trans it means they already don’t fucking trust you.

"I am a parent of three children in the Middletown Township school district. I am in full support of the Middletown Board of Education to amend Transgender Policy 5756," she said, to claps from the crowd. "The LGBTQIA community claims to be an all-inclusion community, but instead they are here trying to advocate to not include parents. Their position interferes with my ability to help my children. And they keep telling young children that it is their parents' fault for not wanting to help them transition, and to be afraid of their parents. They are trying to get into young kids' heads by having them think that their parents are not safe. They are forcing children to turn to other people than their own family. It is not their job to decide what is appropriate in my home. My children belong to me and no one else."

JUST FLAT OUT ADMITTING TO BEING AN ABUSER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! OWNING YOUR CHILDREN?????? I hope you fucking choke!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The day the majority of child abuse stops coming from the hands of family members ESPECIALLY PARENTS will still not be the day we allow schools to out transgender kids to their parents, because children have a fucking right to privacy.

If you read the article you’ll note what’s absent: any quotes from transgender individuals of any age. Like I’m glad there are lawsuits out against these school districts but nobody fucking bothered to interview literally anybody transgender at all. Fuck.

These school districts are literally all within 25 miles of me. And YES I actually do happen to know there were transgender people in Marlboro last night because a large group from my local pride center went there to lend support to the kids and teens of Marlboro. This newspaper is Middletown so I suppose there was nobody from their paper in Marlboro but. Bleh. I’m angry. If your child doesn’t want to tell you something, you weaseling your way into finding out the information is fucking sickening and I hope your child is able to escape from you, get to safety, and never speak to you again.

[purrincesskittens]

Star Eyes, Zuko is mistaken as Water Tribe.

Gift for @muffinlance based off this post and this one

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It was night when they found him. A quick examination showed blood on the back of his head. As they pounded on his back someone noted his eyes. “Gold eyes.” They called. “Are you fire nation?” The boy lifted his head and the light of the lantern caught his eyes reflecting back at them. “Of course I am.” The kid snarls. “Star Eyes.” Someone breathed. Shit this kid was one of theirs. “Could be the child of a war bride.” Was suggested by someone. “At least he’s not a fire bender.” There was a laugh that was quickly interrupted by the star eyed boy himself. “Yes I am.” “Well that was.... honest.” 

Star eyes were only something seen in the water tribes though. Even if this kid was a fire bender he had to be water tribe. More then likely the result of a woman stolen from her tribe during a raid and raised as Fire Nation since he looked enough of the part. But he was young, probably just recruited or practically forced into joining the military. There was a easy way to figure out how dangerous this kid was or rather how much more dangerous he was considering he was a fire bender. 

“Have you ever killed someone?” Hakoda asks crouching before the boy lifting his chin in one hand so the boy had to look him in the eye with those gold colored star eyes. “What? No ... I don’t think.... No.”  The kid seemed confused the blood on the back of his head suggested a head wound but this kid was young probably just assigned to a ship only to get knocked overboard by either by a storm or by another soldier. Those eyes probably didn’t make him popular or the fact that this kid’s eyes kept sliding away from Hakoda’s own suggested he may be a fey child. 

“What do we do with him?” Somebody asks as they watch the kid cough up water, curling and uncurling his fingers against the wood of the deck his eyes cast down. “We keep him for now. His mother is probably Water Tribe war bride if he is star eyed. Have Kustaa check him over and if he survives we figure out what to do from there." Hakoda announces to the crew. They took care of their own and until they figured out who his mother was and could turn him over to her family if she had any left the crew of the Akhult would take care of him for now. Half Water Tribe and the child of a war bride was still Water Tribe and like hell were they going to turn him over to the Fire Nation to continue using as a weapon.

Kustaa later informed him the boy had hypothermia as well as potentially severe head trauma it was hard to tell right now. The kid mistook him for his uncle. Which uncle they weren't sure. It's possible the boy's mother had a picture of her family she either managed to take with her or she drew herself or he could be thinking Kustaa was his father's brother. The escape attempts didn't help some of the crews opinions on keeping the kid but considering he was raised as Fire Nation and was in a strange place so its expected that he would try to escape although climbing the mast was something Hakoda really wished he didn't do along with scaling the side of the ship.

Kustaa had mentioned the boy called for his mother while delirious along with begging his father for forgiveness pledging his loyalty to him and pleading no to the man which didn't paint a pretty picture of the man or gain much favor of the fire nation in the crews opinions. "Tell me about your mother." Hakoda suggests sitting up on the mast beside the boy. Glowing gold eyes blinked at him. "I remember trailing robes. She favored long sleeved robes with delicate embroidery. She had long hair I remember her brushing mine when I was little. I would sit in her lap and she would brush my hair talking to me about theater or turtleducks or plants. Different things she liked. I think I would sometimes tell her about my day or what I had done recently I don't remember clearly its... faded almost. Fuzzy. I barely remember what she looked like."

Hakoda frowned the boy was water tribe he had to be with those star eyes of his but why wouldn't his mother tell him about her people, her home. Maybe she couldn't? Maybe the boys father was so controlling he made sure she never spoke of home to their son? Then the boy said something that made him rethink everything he knew about the kid. "Uncle said my hair is alot like hers. Or it was. I don't even remember why I shaved it." The kid frowned obviously struggling to remember rubbing his head with one hand. The head wound had left him confused he didn't rember his name or much of anything recent but he remembered he had been burned for cowardice supposedly or partially for that but what did the fire nation consider to be cowardly? Kustaa suspected the boy's own father burned him based off what they gleaned from fever dreams and night terrors.

“What did she look like?” Hakoda questions softly holding his breath hoping he was wrong with the hunch he had. “Elegant, beautiful, she had long straight black hair that was so soft and amber eyes with flecks of true gold in them she wore long sleeved red robes with elegant embroidery. The sleeves would bellow and she would hide me in them when I was little.” The boy continued to talk about his mother someone he remembered fondly although all the details suggested the hugs, the turtle duck kisses and every else stopped when the boy was small. Something happened to his mother and Hakoda was beginning to suspect it may have something to do with the boys true parentage. But how to suggest it to the kid without breaking the poor things mind? The whole crew already suspected he was spirit touched as the water tribe liked to call those who were different mentally the earth kingdom called them fey and not all of the earth kingdom where kind to them. 

“If I promise no one on this ship will hurt you and we won’t turn you over to the Earth Kingdom will you stop with the escape attempts?”Hakoda asks when the boy falls silent picking at the grain of the wood under his hands not meeting Hakoda’s eyes. The kid blinked up at him startled. “Okay.” Getting the kid down the mast was surprisingly easy after that and a few more rules were hashed out before the kid was sent to see Kustaa again and the crew was gathered. “The boy’s mother was fire nation. He remembers her more clearly then anything else.” This drew murmurs from the crew some wanted to toss him over board then since he wasn’t the child of a war bride. “But he’s star eyed he has to be Water Tribe.” Toklo says tilting his head in confusion. “Exactly. We know he seemed to have issues regarding his father and Kustaa suspects he may have been the one to burn the kid. I learned his mother also disappeared or may possibly have been killed when he was young.” This gained more murmurs from the crew. 

Panuk pulled in a sharp audible breath. He had figured out what Hakoda was getting at. “Does any one here know where they were about 16 to 17 years ago? If they were around the Earth Kingdom or the colonies anywhere?” Their chief had to ask if none of the men on this ship was the boys father he would have to send messages out to all the others in the fleet see if anyone remembered if maybe had met a pretty woman in the Earth Kingdom or in the colonies and spent a night with her. If the kids mother was Fire Nation and he was star eyed that meant his real father had to be Water Tribe. His mother had to have married or started a new relationship soon after and the boy looked fire nation enough to pass him off as her husband’s but the husband probably suspected what with the star eyes. There was silence followed by an uproar. “You can’t be serious?!” Aake shouted in outrage. “I’m not judging anyone but the boy is water tribe and with his mother gone we most definitely are not giving him back to the Fire Nation so we need to figure out whose he is. We take care of our own.” Hakoda soothed the crews ruffled feathers listening as the men scrambled to remember where they were and what they were doing all those years ago.

Slowly they managed to clear the majority of the crew those who couldn’t remember were left struggling valiantly to justify why they couldn’t possibly be the boys father while their youngest two crew members watched with glee obviously in the clear themselves due to their age. Once Kustaa cleared the boy Hakoda set him to work and had to add no breathing fire to the list of rules. Toklo and Panuk made friends with their newest crew member over laundry and the boy was very shouty about women’s work. And then the issue over the kid not having a name he remembered came up. Names like Siqinq, Kallik, Cupun, Tulok, Yuka and Tulugaq were tossed around. He is pretty sure they settled on Tulok simply because they already have a Tuluk and Toklo on board and that name is almost a combination of the two plus it had a star meaning behind it. The boy just wanted to fit in.

Reds were changed for Toklo’s blues and the boys hair shaved to regrow properly after Kustaa managed to break it to the kid that a real father wouldn’t abuse his son, biological or not. They picked up Bato who sympathized with them for wanting to keep the star eyed child, teach him his real culture, and find his real father but the kid was still a fire bender. A fire bender on a WOODEN SHIP!! The boy, Toluk looked like a kicked polar puppy being denied sleep in the hammock he was used to and his usual snacks when ever he wanted. They still had a lot of work cut out for them when the kid thought he would be killed over a bending accident because he didn’t fully remember he needed to mediate to control his fire. His memories were still patchy at best. So Hakoda ended up with his temporary foster star eyed child sitting in his cabin breathing with a lantern holding a dog.  

The kid liked sea prunes proving he was Water Tribe at heart. He was good at using his fire bending for non evil purposes even if he protested it. He proved he shouldn’t be left alone in port either by himself or with his friends. He gained a piercing, two rusted swords, a theater scroll and a cabbage? No one seems to know about the cabbage. He can cook as it’s proven despite how spicy his cooking is and nearly gets kidnapped by prostitutes. Sex workers were not on the list of people Hakoda thought he would have to fight for custody of Tulok with. He nearly gets himself kidnapped by a Earth Kingdom solider they are allied with who seemed sure their boy was then dead prince of the Fire Nation. Never mind that the prince was dead and their boy was star eyed. The solider was surprisingly unfazed by the heat of the kids cooking. He didn't end up kidnapped despite his best efforts.. The kid really needed to stop climbing the mast. “Prince Zuko?!” Hakoda’s kids seemed to also mistake Tulok for the dead prince. 

“That’s the Prince of the Fire Nation, dad he chased us all over and tried to capture the avatar numerous times. His sister did capture Aang.” His kids argued trying to convince him that their new foster brother was some evil prince. The kid in question for his part had more headaches then usual and just seemed more confused and angry. He remembered something. A little sister named LaLa. It takes a while but after watching their new brother and listening to the crew, “His name is Zuko, he is the prince of the Fire Nation, his father is Fire Lord Ozai does no one care about that?!” Sokka asks in outrage staring as the kid in question does laundry like its a perfectly normal thing for a prince to do. “His mother may be fire nation but his father sure isn’t.” Panuk comments dodging a wet shirt thrown by their resident fire bender.  This earned laughter and calls of “Good for her!!” And “She could do a lot better!” Followed by “At least a water tribesman would treat her right!!”. Sokka groaned in frustration and confusion. 

“Why is my nephew wearing blue, convinced Ozai isn’t his biological father and that he is water tribe?” General Iroh the Dragon of the West questions calmly. Tulok seemed to recognize Iroh and even called him Uncle and recognized some of the crew but he still didn’t have complete clear memories although his headaches grew worse until Kustaa told him it didn’t matter if he remembered or not he was water tribe and nothing was going to change that spirit touched or not. “He is star eyed you can’t possibly tell me the fire nation has star eyed kids that’s a water tribe thing only.” Iroh considered it briefly before dismissing it. His nephew looked similar to a young Ozai, so Ozai had to be his father even if he wasn’t much of one and his nephew deserved better then Ozai. But surely Ursa couldn’t have had an affair while married to Ozai it was impossible. Iroh tried to do the math off the top of his head of when Ursa and Ozai married vs when Zuko was born. “Look the obvious answer here is that the boys mom met with a Water Tribe beefcake and had a one night stand that lead to the boy. It’s the only thing that explains why his supposed father hated him so much and why he struggled with fire bending and is star eyed.” Bato explains grinning. “Beefcake?” Hakoda and Iroh question. 

Azula finds this all far to amusing. “That just means I’m the rightful heir after all. You can stay here with your little water tribe family and I can be the next Fire Lord after Uncle.” Somehow things get worked out that their star eyed fire bender’s fire nation sister will be staying with them along side her two scary friends and the kids supposed Uncle will become the next Fire Lord once they take down Ozai. The kid is still confused and there are still gaps in his memories but they aren’t giving him back now he is their’s and the fire nation can’t have him. They still call him Tulok since the fire nation does consider the sun to be a star after all. He seems to like it better then Zuko. He still does their laundry still wears beads in his braids in red, blue and one gold. In all that’s happened no one thought to alert the rest of the fleet about what they learned leaving them in for one heck of a surprise when they reach Chameleon Bay where the rest of the men from the fleet scramble to try to remember where they were sixteen-point-nine years ago. 

[innocentimouto]

Jason and Wealth

This isn’t a rant but one thing confuses me about Jason in fics. I understand him being suspicious and maybe hoarding food.

But the way people show he doesn’t believe he deserves basic necessities and then proceed to put it in a positive light that he should enjoy having meals to feed dozens of people and living in a place so big half the people on his street would survive.

It...makes me uncomfortable.

I’m not rich, but I’ve never been in need either. And I can tell you it makes me uncomfortable to sometimes look around my room and see how many things I have. I hate when people throw away leftovers instead of just putting them in containers for later meals. I hate excessiveness. It may be a personal tendency, but this is a person without Jason’s background of poverty.

I don’t think it’s highlighted enough how uncomfortable Jason would be, and it doesn’t need to be purely related to trauma. It doesn’t even need to be something to overcome. A mansion to house a dozen, if not more people, and only to two men?

If Jason knew so many people on the streets who turned to crime to survive and then sees someone with more wealth than he needs and more rooms than he could ever use, yeah he’d probably be a little hateful at first which would be mixed with guilt as he’s now escaped that life but others haven’t.

Ironically, I think this applies really well to Dick as well. He’s not a rich boy and I don’t pretend to know the salary of the circus, but traveling restricts luxuries more often than not, as well as making you appreciate things in simpler ways. Dick also works for things and doesn’t like being given them without effort. 

And Bruce would inevitably have habits that stems form his upbringing, simply offering the boys as many toys as they would want or getting them devices before the public were allowed them. He could just buy a whole amusement park for the boys and both would be uncomfortable. For Jason to have gone from nothing to such grand gestures that seemed unfair when he already had so much now and other people were literally dying on the streets.

And for Dick because he was raised differently and doesn’t see the point of most of those things when he could use the money in better ways or just because there were luxuries to enjoy without excessiveness and while Bruce may not be wrong, Dick’s view differs and Bruce, who’s been raised this way his whole life, doesn’t understand why Dick can’t just accept the money.

Bruce just buying Dick a whole closet of outfits and Dick getting upset because he doesn’t need it, he has 50 others Bruce. Been on the receiving end of family members trying to buy really expensive things that would be fun to have but that I just didn’t need and so what’s the point?

Dick is too pragmatic to appreciate those things. He won’t be ungrateful, but it would start to get out of control and the rich life is not the life he wants.

This is possibly an actual argument they could have that actually makes sense and isn’t a form of abuse. And it’s not so much of right and wrong and more the differences of upbringing and lifestyles which isn’t a crime to differ on.

I know Bruce helps Gotham a lot, but the fact is that they don’t need that much space. So I’m not saying Bruce is selfish, stingy rich boy.

And Tim oh boy.

Tim is a rich boy. Him going to live with Bruce and being unsure of affection? Sure, fine. Him not wanting any of the luxuries and being content with nothing? No. Tim would see no issue with buying a whole amusement park and would regularly offer they do something similar. I don’t honestly see how people think Tim and Jason would get along. He may not have had the best of parents, but he still came from a wealthy family. He’d get along with Bruce the best and clash with Jason the most.

It’s actually more of a reason Tim and Damian would clash, as both would come from wealth but Damian wasn’t allowed luxuries while Tim was allowed everything.

[maddiwrites]

Let Me Go

Pairing: JJ x Reader

Summary: This was requested! Y/N still lives with the Cameron’s following the death of her brother, but she’s being held there against her will. After many failed escape attempts, Y/N finally gets out of Figure Eight, but she’s far from safe. (The request was long so I’m going to link it here so you can see the full summary of what anon wanted!)

Note: I’m sorry this took so long to get out!!! I literally had half of it written and then it all deleted and I’m so upset because my first attempt at writing it was better but oh well. I hope you like it. Again, sorry for the long wait!

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: MENTIONS OF DRUG ABUSE, CHILD NEGLECT, GUN VIOLENCE, ATTEMPTED SUICIDE. PLEASE DO NOT READ IF ANY OF THESE TOPICS TRIGGER YOU. PLEASE. SUICIDE HOTLINE: 800-273-8255

Masterlist

You weren’t always like this - sitting up in your unmade bed, staring at the blank wall in front of you like you could see through it, unshowered, trembling from your shoulders down to your toes, feeling empty from the inside out. 

You forget what it’s like to be free. Following the death of your brother, you’ve been trapped like a rat in a cage. Figure Eight is no longer the luxurious part of the island to you. It’s filled with lies, manipulation, secrets, murder. 

You’re still living at the Cameron’s. No, not living. Surviving. Ward refused to give his guardianship of you up. Some people wondered why - why would Ward want to live with the sister of a murderer? Yeah, that’s what they thought - that your brother killed Sheriff Peterkin and tried to kill Ward too. But you knew why.

Ward no longer treats you like a member of his family. He has you locked in your designated room on the third floor that’s basically only used as an attic and storage area. Your own personal prison. Because you know what he did - not only to your brother and his daughter but to your dad. 

You felt like you were losing grasps of reality. You only knew fall was approaching because you could hear Wheezy talking about it to Rose outside your door. You guess the time of day by the sunlight through your window and the meals brought to your room. 

Of course there have been times you tried to escape. You managed to run away a few times. The first time, you went straight to the police station and tried telling them that Ward was keeping you trapped in his home. Of course they didn’t believe you. Instead, they called Ward to come pick you up. He told the police that you’ve been experiencing delusions since the death of your brother. Without a second thought, they believed him and ignored your cries for help completely. The second time, you tried going to Kie’s, but the police found you first and brought you back to Ward’s now that they think you’re going through some kind of mental breakdown. 

By now, you’re exhausted. You’re tired of fighting and arguing and screaming. You feel empty inside, craving some sort of release or embrace of comfort. You haven’t seen your Pogues in weeks, maybe months. You wonder if they still think about you. Do they blame you for leaving John B to go off by himself with Sarah? Do they hate you?

Not only is living inside an enclosed box hard enough, but dealing with the loss of your brother, friend, and father, is killing you inside. You can’t help but feel guilty that you weren’t with them. You and your brother were supposed to be partners in crime and you totally let him go off on his own. You feel like you abandoned him and that keeps you up at night. 

Since your ways of coping are limited, you’re not proud to say you found an unhealthy way of relieving your pain. 

When you were first locked up, you would scream and kick the door that hid you from the rest of the world, begging for anyone in the house to let you go. Never did it work, but one time Rafe got extremely fed up and raced upstairs to make you shut up. You didn’t know it, but Rafe was on the verge of a breakdown himself. His dad complete shut him out as he tried to fix the damage he caused. He assumed Sarah was dead. And Barry basically owned him, making him do all his dirty work. Maybe he deserved it, but he didn’t live a luxurious life either despite living in Figure Eight.

You took a couple steps back when you heard heavy footsteps approaching your door. Rafe quickly undid the locks and barged in so fast that he almost knocked you down. 

“Oh my god. Do you ever shut the fuck up?” Rafe was breathing hard and quickly getting red in the face. You stumbled backwards, suddenly afraid of being alone with him. 

You sniffled. “I need to get out of here.”

“You’re not leaving.”

“Please, Rafe. You got to get me out of here. Please!” You never thought you’d be here, begging Rafe of all people for help. Yet here you were. With no other choices left.

Rafe paced the room and raked his fingers through his hair. “You do realize you're not the only one going through something, right?”

You swallowed back your tears and scoffed at the Kook in front of you. “Seriously? Your family is keeping me locked in here like some kind of zoo animal! My brother is dead -”

“Sarah is too!”

“But that’s not my fault!” You screamed. You pointed an accusatory finger in his direction. “That’s yours!” Rafe froze and turned to look at you. You didn’t know where you grew the balls to keep going but you did. “I know what you did. I know what your dad is trying to cover up. And he’s using my brother to do it.” You saw Rafe’s adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallowed. “Why do you think your dad is keeping me locked in here?”

“Shit,” Rafe cursed. Now he knew why his dad gave him strict instructions to never come up to your room. He started shaking his his head and shaking in his skin. “I didn’t mean to - I - I - it happened so fast.”

You could go on and on about how Rafe would never be able to dig himself out of this hole. How he will never be able to convince you that he wasn’t guilty. But you didn’t. Because he’s the only one who could help you.

“Rafe, please,” You begged. “I won’t say anything. I just need to get out of here.”

Rafe sniffled back his own tears and fears and looked out the one window that looked out into the backyard of his home. He couldn’t let you go. He knew it was selfish, but he had to save himself. 

“I can’t,” Rafe said.

A new wave of tears hit you and you felt defeated. You fell back on your bed and cried into your hands, hunched over above your knees. 

“I’m sorry,” Rafe said, but his apology was as empty as you feel. 

“Just go,” You rubbed your eyes hard enough to see stars. 

You hear something light hit the bed next to you. “I know it’s not much. But this helps me get through all this messed up shit.”

When you didn’t look at him or whatever he gave you, he took that as a hint to leave and quietly left the room. You listened to each lock being fastened again, each one leaving a crack in your heart. 

Rafe offered you something you should have never taken. A small baggie filled with fine white powder. You should have never even considered it. Drugs were never your thing. You wouldn’t even smoke with JJ when he offered a hit of whatever he was smoking. But the idea of anything taking your pain away enticed you.

And that’s how you ended up here. Broken, alone, and craving something only Rafe could supply you with. Literally. He came around every so often, sliding a small baggie under the door for you. It was the closest thing you and Rafe had to a friendship. 

Today was particularly a bad day. It was dark and rainy outside and you remembered John B’s birthday should be quickly approaching. You missed him. God, did you miss him. You would do anything to hear his voice again or steal his clothes or go surfing in the ocean with him. 

You trudged out of bed towards your dresser that held a faint line of coke left over from yesterday. With a one dollar bill, you sniffed the rest of it up your nose and blinked back the sting of tears that pricked your eyes after you did it. A rush of energy sparked up your body, through your toes and up to your head. You immediately felt lighter and that the world was spinning a little faster. But with that rush came a surge of emotions. You went from being sad to being angry real fast. 

You hated Ward. You hated Shoupe. You hated this house.  You hated Kooks. You hated yourself. You hated everything about the Outer banks. You just wanted to leave. 

You find the closest thing to you, a small makeup mirror, and smash it against one of the locks on the door. You’ve done this hundreds of times and by now the door was scratched and bruised from your abuse, but you didn’t care. You didn’t feel the glass of the mirror slice into your skin as you continued to bang it on the metal lock. You didn’t care if Ward and the others heard you throwing another temper tantrum. You just wanted out.

When you felt the lock stumble to the side of the door, you froze in your place. You stared at the broken lock, wondering if this was all a dream or a hallucination from your high. “No fucking way,” You mumbled. You looked down at the door knob and repeated the same movements until the handle completely fell off and clattered to the floor. 

You dropped the mirror and stuck two fingers through the hole in the door where the door knob use to be. While holding your breath, you slowly pulled the door open and couldn’t believe when it moved without any hiccup. 

You never thought that you would get this far, and now that you were here, you didn’t know what to do. You felt scared. Cautiously, you stuck your head out to make sure no one was in the hallway. When the coast was clear, you tip toed throughout the house, listening to the eery silence that filled it. No one was home. 

When you passed Rafe’s room, you stopped. You were out of supply and you needed more. Rafe owed you anyway, you told yourself. So you ransacked his room. Found about four more small baggies and stuffed them in your pocket before leaving.

As you walk through the halls, you pass Ward’s office and paused. It was open and unlocked. Even before all this shit happened, you never remember it being this way. You didn’t know what it was. Maybe it was the adrenaline from another escape attempt or maybe it was the cocaine, but you walked yourself into that office and looked around. 

You cursed at all the accomplishments hanging on his wall, the trophies, and expensive relics of random shit. His desk was neat and orderly despite the major crime he was trying to cover up. You sat yourself in his chair, trying to imagine what it felt like to be him. Motherfucker probably felt like a king. 

You went through his drawers, thumbing through random files you had no business looking through - most of it work related stuff and banking information. You tucked that one in your pocket for later. 

Then you hear something thump against the drawer when you pull it out. A revolver. Small and silver. Cold against your fingertips. You breath hitched as you brought it up to your face. It felt like you were holding a bomb. An object that could change your life forever. Another fresh set of tears threatened to roll down your face but you shook them away. No. No more being sad. 

You shut the drawer hard and walked out with a couple new items in your possession.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

The Pogues were spending another dreary day at The Wreck. The September sun might be out, but their spirits were down. Two of their best friends are dead and the other is trapped with two murderers. They were scared for you and have tried everything to get you back. They tried talking to the cops, they tried breaking her out. But each times the cops got in the way. They were running out of hope. At this point, they didn’t even know if they would ever see you again. They just hoped you were okay. They knew you tried escaping a few times and prayed that you would eventually get yourself out of there soon.

“JJ, you gotta eat,” Kie sighed as she watched JJ play with the fries in front of him. If anyone was handing it the worst, it was JJ. Both John B and Y/N were his best friends first. Hell, he was in love with Y/N. Had been since the sixth grade. One of his biggest regrets is that he never told you. Now he didn’t know if he ever would. 

“’M not hungry,” JJ mumbled. 

The door above the restaurant entrance rang as a couple of police officers walked in for their lunch break. The group of three glared at them as they walked in with their cocky stride and their hand resting on their tasers and guns as if everyone should be scared of them. 

“Fucking cops can’t do their goddamn job,” JJ sat back in his seat and flicked one of his fries down on the table. He hated them. More than he ever had. He couldn’t believe these people took an oath to protect this county. Fucking cowards, all of them. 

“Fucking assholes,” Kie said and watched her father approach them with a friendly smile. 

Pope snapped up when an idea popped into his head. “Sarah’s sister.”

“What?” Kie’s brows furrowed. 

“School starts next week,” Pope explained. “She’s starting high school, right? What if you tried talking to her? Maybe you can -”

Pope paused when he heard the sound of the police radios echoing off the walls from their belts. 

“Code10-92. Runaway teen last reported on Baker’s Street. Proceed with caution. Last seen wearing black sports shorts and a white tank. Suspect may be armed and dangerous.”

JJ’s head snapped back to his friends with his brows pinched together. Could this be you? Could you have made it out again? But what did armed and dangerous mean? That didn’t sound like you.

Shoupe radioed back to the station. “On our way.”

The officers dropped ten dollars in the tip jar before charging out the door to go to their vehicles. 

“We gotta go,” JJ stood up first and stuffed his phone and keys into his pocket. The other two nod and follow him out the door. If that call was about you, they wanted to find you before the cops did. “Okay. Kie, go home. She tried going to your house last time. Maybe she’ll try that again. Pope, go to Heyward’s. She trusts your dad. She might try to find him for help.”

“Where are you going to go?” Pope asked. 

“Everywhere else.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

You trudged through your old home with heavy feet. Nothing in there felt familiar to you - like it belonged to you in another life time. You first went to your room and stared at the girl in the mirror. You didn’t recognize her. Bones sticking out of your skin, dark bags under the eyes, and cracked lips and dry skin. 

Without thinking, you took the gun that’s still in your hand and smashed it against the glass, shattering it all around you. 

Ignoring the stinging in your hands from the shallow cuts on your skin, you moved on to the next room. Your brother’s room. It looked like a tornado made its way through here. Everything was tossed and turned from the police and FBI ransacking it during their search for John B. Nothing felt like it was John B’s anymore. Nothing felt private. And that pissed you off. 

Next you went to your dad’s office, somewhere you haven’t been since you found the compass. Even now, it felt like you weren’t supposed to be in here. If you believed in an afterlife, you would think your dad would be shaking his head at you. 

The office looked like John B’s room did. Whatever belonged to your dad now belonged to the state. The only things left were random files and belongings the police didn’t find of importance. But they were important to you. 

The first thing you found was a picture in a cracked frame of you, your dad, and your brother from when you were ten. Your dad was holding both of you as you blew out the candles on a birthday cake. Looking at the picture, you felt your heart being shredded apart. The picture only brought back pain and grief. You wanted that happiness back that ten year old you portrayed in that picture. But you can’t have it. Ever again.

A cry ripped through your throat as you chucked the picture across the room. From there, you went on a rampage, throwing and kicking anything that was in your way. You took one of the baggies out of your pocket and dumped it on the desk in front of you. Without any precision, you fixed the lines up with your finger and took a long whiff. You gripped the roots of your hair and tugged as you sobbed loudly and felt one of the biggest headaches explode in your brain. 

You paced back and forth in the office with the gun held in your shaky hands. You were mumbling to yourself about your options and how horrible of a sister and daughter you were for leaving your family behind. You wanted to see them. You wanted to be with them and prove to them you never meant to abandon them. 

You didn’t hear the door to the Chateau open or the sound of footsteps following your cries. It wasn’t until you heard his soft, delicate voice that you turned around and stared at your best friend with wide eyes and a startled expression. 

“Y/N...” JJ breathed out. He didn’t see the gun yet. He just saw you, crying and broken and not looking like the girl he knew only a few months ago. 

“What are you doing here?” He didn’t recognize your voice either. Hoarsed and scared. “You’re not supposed to be here!”

“The cops are looking for you! Okay? We need to get you out of here!”

“I’m not leaving!”

“What?” JJ looked at you like you grew two heads. “What are you talking about. We -”

“No! I said I’m not leaving! Agh!” Your hands flew up to your pulsating head and gripped at your hair again. The pounding in your head was excruciating and wouldn’t go away. Between the cocaine, your cries, and the exhaustion, you didn’t think it would ever go away. 

That’s when JJ saw the gun and took a shocking step back. His hands immediately flew up in surrender and he gulped down his nerves. Now he knew why the cops had called you armed and dangerous. Probably because Ward reported a stolen gun. JJ never knew you to be a violent person. It wasn’t in you. You couldn’t even hurt a fly. Which meant you didn’t steal this gun to hurt someone else. But probably...

Then his eyes flickered to the desk where he saw the reside of white powder next to an empty baggie. Now he was petrified because he didn’t know how to get through to you - if he even could get through to you.

“Y/N, baby. Put the gun down.”

“No,” You shook you head. “No, no, no. I need to see them. I need to see my dad and John B!”

“Y/n...”

“I should’ve gone with them. I should’ve - I - I didn’t mean to leave. I’m so-sorry, John B. I’m so sorry.” You were a mess. Tears and snot and running all over your red and puffy face. 

JJ kept looking between you and the gun. His only comfort was that he knew you didn’t know how to use it. You wouldn’t even touch the one he stole from Scooter Grubs. But that didn’t mean accidents couldn’t happen.

“I can’t do it anymore,” You continued. “I can’t go back there. I won’t. I won’t. I just want to see my dad.”

JJ took a hesitant step closer to you and nodded his head, keeping his hands up. “Okay. Okay. What if I helped you see your dad?”

“H-How?” You hiccuped. JJ didn’t know where he was going with this. He just knew he had to get that gun out of your hand. He took another step closer to you, but this one made you jump back. “No! No! Stay away!”

“Okay, okay!” JJ yelled back at you. “Hey. I’m here to help you, okay? Whatever you want to do.”

“I want to see them. I want to say sorry. I - I’m so sorry.”

“Y/N, they’re not mad at you-”

“I’m sorry, daddy, I -”

With you distracted, JJ took the opportunity to run at you and tackle you to the ground. He ignored the pang in his heart when he heard you cry harder, wondering if he hurt you, but he cared more about keeping you alive. He wrestled the gun out of your hands and quickly emptied the cartridge. He chucked the multiple pieces across the room and wrapped himself around your crumpled body.

“No! No!” You shrieked in JJ’s shoulder and gripped onto his shirt for dear life. “Please! Let me go!” 

JJ held on to your crumbling body as you wracked with sobs. Exhaustion quickly took over you as the adrenaline slowly vanished out of your system. Your throat was on fire from all the crying and the screaming. Your chest felt empty and your lungs heavy. All you wanted was to close your eyes and never open them again.

JJ couldn’t hold back his own silent tears as they ran down his cheeks. He hated seeing you like this. And he hated even more that he didn’t know how to help you.

“It’s going to be okay,” He said as he brushed the hair out of your face. He kissed the top of your head with his soft lips and kept mumbling into your head. “You’re going to be okay. I’m never leaving your side again. It’s going to be okay.”

He didn’t know if he was trying to convince you or himself. He jus knew he had to make you believe it.

About ten minutes later, he felt your body relax against his. When he found you fast asleep, he pulled out his phone and texted Kie to pick the two of you up. 

Until Kie got there, he stared at the delicate skin on your face with such admiration. Rage bubbled through this veins as the ideas of what you possibly went through in the that hell hole in Figure Eight. 

He knew it was going to be a long road to recovery. He knew there was a lot of fixing that needed to be done. But he made a promise that he will never let you out of his sights again. Because today was a close call. And he never wanted you to be that close to death ever again.

[animeomegas]

Omega!Neji - Nesting Headcanons

Warnings: Forced suppressant abuse.

Neji was forced to take a dangerous amount of omegan suppressants from a very early age. 

To say that omegas in the Hyuuga clan are not treated fairly would be an understatement; omegan traits are considered to be an obstacle to overcome rather than an innate part of someone that should be embraced. The Hyuuga clan prefer their omega members to be kept inside the clan as spouses and parents. 

But Neji was destined to lead the branch family, so they tried to make him as close to a beta as they could.

Before he met his alpha, Neji had never been allowed to indulge in any omegan behaviours.

For this reason, Neji didn’t know how to nest.

His alpha, while not the most qualified, had to try and teach Neji how to be an omega. Teach him how to embrace this part of him. Teach him how to follow his instincts for the first time in his life. Teach him to let go of the shame that had been forced upon him.

The first few times Neji tried to nest, he chose a very minimalistic style. 

He would lay on the sofa or in your bed with three pillows and a light blanket. 

You didn’t know whether Neji really was a minimalist nester (like Shikamaru) or is he was just taking it slowly so as to not be overwhelmed by his new instincts. So you waited for him to figure himself out. Scenting whatever he needed scenting, bringing him snacks and drinks, running your fingers through his hair to help him relax. Anything to make him feel more comfortable. 

With the support of his alpha, Neji eventually develops a bit of an obsession with soft materials. You decide to take him shopping, overjoyed that he was finally able to embrace himself without punishment. 

Neji tries to hide his excitement, but as you walk him around the nesting supply stores, you can see the joy in his eyes.

Neji ends up picking out a new futon to act as the base for his nest. He puts the futon in the corner of your spare room, cushions padding the walls. 

He has a preference for neutral colours and ultra-soft materials. 

A cute side effect of Neji learning how to nest, is his newly developed nuzzling instinct. 

Previously, Neji had never nuzzled you or anything/anyone else, despite it being a very common omegan way to show affection. But now? He buries his face into your neck whenever he can, as long as you two are alone. At first he is so embarrassed by the new behaviour, but it makes him so relaxed that eventually, he embraces it. Nuzzling becomes Neji’s favourite way of showing affection. 

As far as scent goes, Neji started out not being able to really smell your scent. It took almost six months after Neji came off the suppressants, that he began to react to your scent. 

Because of this, he is hyper sensitive to it. Nothing can affect him as much as his alpha’s scent. He likes you to be in his nest with him whenever possible, but when that can’t happen, he likes you to heavily scent a cuddly toy that he can cuddle in your stead.

(He will never forgive you if you tell anyone about that.)

Neji only has a handful of cuddly toys in his nest and they are all special to him and thus drenched in your scent.

He lets his alpha enter his nest very early on into their relationship, after all, his alpha helped him build them when he didn’t know how, so he didn’t think it was that big of a deal. 

You watched Neji gingerly place a couple of cushions on your bed at a bizarre angle. He was biting his lip in concentration as he messed around with the cushions in a seemingly pointless loop. Eventually, he decides to gently lean them against the headboard before looking to you for reassurance. 

“Is that right?” 

You sighed, leaning over and placing a kiss on the side of his head. “I can’t tell you that, baby. If it feels right, then it’s right. Only you can decide that.”

Neji rubbed a hand down his face, a defeated sigh escaping his mouth as he swiftly knocked the cushions onto the floor. His underdeveloped scent started to take on a distressed tinge. 

“Hey, hey, hey,” You slid closer to him on the bed with a comforting grin on your face. “Don’t worry, you’ll get there.”

Neji shook his head. “Will I? What kind of omega can’t even build a nest? It’s pathetic.”

You growled lightly, flicking him gently on the forehead. “Don’t talk like that, Neji, I mean it.”

You both sat in silence for a moment, trying to come up with a solution. 

“Maybe,” you started. “I could build a nest for you, and you can try getting used to being in a nest before you try building one?”

Neji gave a vaguely dejected shrug. “I suppose it’s worth a try.”

You grinned at him, bumping your shoulders together affectionately. “Go get some snacks, I’ll build you an awesome nest!”

He rolls his eyes, but the small chuckle that slips out betrays his grumpy exterior. 

Ten minutes later and you were almost finished watching a popular nesting tutorial on YouTube. 

“Tuck the blanket underneath the base cushion...” you mumbled, eyes glued to the screen as you tried to follow the instructions.

You heard a snort from behind you. 

“Shut up, Neji.” You murmured absently. “Final blanket goes on top... And voila!” You stood up and presented the completed nest to Neji. “A nest! For you!”

“And now we just... lay in it?”

“Yep!” You climbed in, carefully avoiding ruining all your hard work. You held your arms open to Neji. “What are you waiting for?”

You smiled at the light blush that had settled on Neji’s cheeks as he climbed in and settled into your embrace. Idly, you began to trace patterns on his back. 

“I’m not sure if I’ll ever understand nesting properly, but...” He tentatively nuzzled into your neck. “This part I like.”

“I’ll build as many nests as you want, my love. You deserve it.”

[scripttorture]

You mention in posts how torture doesn’t make people obedient and usually makes them spiteful (which obviously makes sense), but isn’t it realistic for someone to comply out of fear rather than loyalty? Whether that was giving up information or obeying orders or something else entirely. I imagine it depends on the person, and they would probably still be willing to turn on their torturers if given the chance, but would it be possible for them to obey orders in hopes of avoiding more pain?

This is a much more nuanced and complicated topic then we’re taught to assume.

 When it comes to giving up information it’s pretty clear cut. No, torture can’t lead to accurate information for a lot of interconnected reasons. I have about six separate masterposts covering the reasons for this.

 One of those is the antagonism torture produces. Another is the memory problems torture causes. Another is the effect that the use of torture has on organisations and the chain of command. Another is the effect torture has on torturers.

 Torture drastically increases the chances of memory loss and it also increases the chances of inaccurate memories. So not only is a torture victim less likely to talk, they’re more likely to be wrong if they do talk.

 But the effects on victims aren’t the main reason torture doesn’t work as a way of getting information. You’re assuming that torturers have access to people who have information.

 The reality is that torture destroys an organisation’s ability to gather accurate information. Most information comes from volunteers: when torture comes into play less people volunteer information. This means that an organisation which tortures is more likely to be questioning someone who knows nothing. That person is then abused until they start making things up.

 Because there’s less access to volunteered information and because humans are very bad at telling when someone is lying, a lot of these made up stories are believed. And this then effects who else the organisation arrests and tortures. This creates a sort of spiral, with lies leading to more lies.

 Additionally the torturers themselves make things worse. There’s less quality research on them, but the research and anecdotal accounts create a pretty clear picture of their behaviour. They undermine the chain of command, they lose the skills the originally had as they turn to torture, they’re aggressive, incredibly competitive and they have a… fracturing effect on their organisation.

 Basically they’re incredibly difficult to work with and totally convinced of their own importance. And this effects their colleagues. It totally divides organisations. The worst case I’ve read about involved members of the same organisation killing each other over access to prisoners.

 That’s a short run through of the main factors. Torture, in the legally defined sense, means all of these factors are in play. Plus a few more I’ve omitted to keep this shorter.

 With all of that together you just can’t get accurate information.

 If you want longer posts I’ve made on the subject I suggest looking for the ‘torture doesn’t work’ tag and the ‘torture as interrogation’ tag. You can also read the masterposts. If you want a much more in depth look at why torture consistently fails as a way of getting information I recommend O’Mara’s Why Torture Doesn’t Work and Rejali’s Torture and Democracy.

 O’Mara is a neuroscientist and goes through the effects torture has on the brain in a way that’s accessible, explaining the damage torture causes and how that destroys the evidence torturers claim to be seeking. Rejali’s book is a breeze block but it’s really a must, it is the textbook on torture in a broad sense. He ties together information from across the globe creating a broader picture of what torture does, not just to victims but to societies.

 The question of compliance under threat and pain… is more complicated.

 People can be forced to do some things. That much is obvious from a brief glance at human history and things like slavery. But it’s important to listen to what people in these scenarios say.

 And my opinion, based on what I’ve read, is that what these people say doesn’t support the idea that humans will easily obey instructions when they’re hurt or threatened. I think instead these people are making hard headed, rational choices in absolutely awful situations. I think when we don’t have these experiences of torture or slavery, it’s easy to look at the surface of the situation and assume that pain alone assures obedience. I think that happens because it’s hard for use to understand the rationale when we don’t have that lived experience.

 Let me give some examples. So it probably goes without saying that slavery goes hand in hand with physical abuse. One of the major researchers on slavery, whose data I quote pretty regularly, assumes throughout his writings that pain is the deciding factor which ‘makes’ people obey.

 But he also describes a couple of very obvious consistent patterns in the ways slavers behave. Slavers almost universally do the following things as well as using physical abuse:

Separate enslaved people from their community

Bar enslaved people from other forms of support

Make enslaved people financially/materially reliant on the slavers

Tell enslaved people that going to the police/authorities will lead to the enslaved person being arrested

Try to convince enslaved people that they will be better off if they comply, usually by framing it as a debt to be worked off with promises of riches after a period of time

 Now here’s the thing: we know from studies on cults and studies on ICURE techniques that a lot of these strategies will result in obedience when there is no violence or physical abuse.

 Given that I don’t think we can assume that violence is the deciding factor. In fact I think the evidence we have from forced confessions under torture suggests the violence may lead to less obedience and a lower ‘success’ rate then a set up that used emotional abuse or other exploitative techniques without violence.

 We have two sources of historical data that are used for statistical studies on forced confessions. One is from historical France. We think that this data set only involved torture to force a confession; no other method of coercion just violence. The rate of forced confessions varied a little in different areas but over all it’s about 10%. The second data set is from the ‘London Cage’ a British prison during the second world war. Here we know that torture was combined with blackmail, bribery and other kinds of coercion. The rate of forced confessions there was about 30%.

 And while this is just two studies, while the data is lacking… That is one hell of a jump.

 Let’s circle back to ICURE. ICURE stands for Isolation, Control information, create Uncertainty, Repetition and Emotive responses. It’s a set of techniques which can, sometimes, change someone’s beliefs when it’s applied consistently over a long time.

 Notice the effort slavers put in to isolating their victims. Notice that the behaviour pattern I’m describing means the slavers are creating uncertainty over seeking help and repeating those messages as well as messages that the victims will be better off if they just go along with it.

 Slavers will generally also try to control the information their victims have access to, taking phones and blocking access to news sources and other resources. Now a lot of slavers will transport their victims to other states or countries putting a language barrier in place. They sometimes also use emotive responses in attempts to persuade victims to comply.

 I’ve read multiple accounts where survivors of modern slavery described slavers telling them that the money they were making was being sent to the victim’s family and without it the family would not survive. (Sometimes the slavers do send small amounts to the families of their victims, sometimes they pocket everything.) I’ve also read accounts where gangs of slavers used religion and oaths taken in a religious setting to persuade their victims they’d be punished by God for not complying.

 Even with all of this, all these techniques we know can sometimes ‘work’- lots of people refuse. Lots of people disobey. Lots of people escape. Lots of people actively sabotage the operations the slavers put together.

 And if you look at that same history of slavery, that shows us people can sometimes be forced to work, you’ll see that this has always been true.

 We have records of historic enslaved people attacking slavers, forming organised militias, forming parallel societies, sacking towns, taking over an entire Caribbean island and beating off four European armies in the process. We also have records of smaller acts. Sabotage, worship of banned deities, speaking banned languages, destruction of property, aiding in the escape of others.

 What I’m saying is: this isn’t black and white. The evidence, modern and historical does not paint a clear picture of violence leading to obedience.

 Instead I believe that it shows humans are resilient, stubborn, adaptable creatures. People can survive all kinds of horrible situations. It is more accurate, more human, to assume that people make rational choices.

 Sometimes those choices involve short term compliance while looking for a better option or a way out. But we tend to hear less stories about the people who completely refuse to comply. We tend to treat that as an impossible fiction when it is a recorded historical and modern reality.

 Bringing this back to writing as a general rule the more complicated the act the less likely you can force someone to do it. Because the more complicated it is the more opportunities they’ll have to sabotage it or use it against their abuser.

 I recommend reading up on the history of Haiti pet. Then Brazil via Palmares.

 I’ll end this by bringing it back to those statistics on forced confessions in historical France. Imagine the conditions with me for a moment. Unsanitary, cramped cells. Dehydration, starvation and disease. Plus the kinds of scarring torture that are conjured up in the minds of most Western people when the word ‘torture’ comes up; thumb screws, leg irons that tighten until the bone snaps, whips.

 Picture it. Try to imagine the pain those people went through.

 And remember that 90% of them did not comply long enough to sign their name.

Available on Wordpress.

Disclaimer

[volturiwolf]

The Volturi Princess - A Felix Volturi x fem!Reader Story (part 1)

A/N: This is the first Volturi- and Twilight-related story I ever started writing and it is quite long and elaborated/complex, as I tend to overanalyze in many parts. I have wrote a few parts until now and I'll be uploading them in the future. I have been quite emotional throughout writing it, trying to understand the reader's point of view.

A/N 2: I'm sorry if something doesn't make sense. English is not my first language. I also include Italian through the story, with translation, but I'm not a native or a speaker, so I'd like to apologize in advance to those who speak Italian. Enjoy :)

A/N 3: According to "The Amagi" on Youtube, Felix was born in 250 BC (their thumbnail), so I used that in my story.

No of Words: about 5347

Mentions of: Abandonment, Abortion, Anxiety, Blood, Bruises, Coma/Comatosed State, Death Emotional Abuse, Emotional and Physical Pain, Gaslighting, Greece/Greek Language - with translation, Heartbreak, Italian Language - with translation, Manipulation, Murder, Pain, Panic Attacks, Pregnancy, Suffering, Suicide/Suicidal Thoughts, Swear Language, Throwing Up/Puking, Witches/Wizards/Witchcraft

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

My heart felt heavy. I may have just escaped the cruelest vampire of all, but I also ran away from the love of my life, my mate, the only person who could fully understand me in this world. I asked him to run away with me, but, although our bond was strong, he felt obliged to stay loyal to his master, his creator. I drove as fast as I could, away from the sunny Volterra, and away from him.

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

(Y/N) grew up quite privileged, in Vampire terms. Being born into the Volturi coven was something many vampires could only dream about. (Y/N) was abandoned by her parents when she was a baby, but Aro, one of the three Volturi leaders, took her under his protection, and offered her more things than she could ever have imagined. After all, she was his only biological granddaughter, the “Volturi princess”, an heiress to the throne; her mother lost that “privilege” when she met and fell in love with a wizard.

(Y/N)’s mother soon got pregnant with her, and then later turned her husband into a vampire to help her with her pregnancy, and stay together forever. However, (Y/N)’s parents couldn’t raise her because they wanted to run free and careless, not commit to anything permanent, so Aro took over and raised his granddaughter with the highest honors and privileges, “as a princess should be raised”.

(Y/N) was a mix of Vampire, Witch and Human, due to the grandmother, Sulpicia, being human when Aro found her; Sulpicia later fell pregnant with (Y/N)’s mother, and Aro transformed her to vampire, as he had planned all along. Aro raised (Y/N) according to his own rules and morals, teaching her how to kill humans to feed from, how to attack and slip away from her opponents, how to lead other vampires, and most importantly, how to keep her identity and existence a secret, not only to humans, but other non-Volturi vampires as well. No one could know that there was a possibility of a vampire having a child with a human, and that the child could be effectively controlled and raised as a regular vampire.

As (Y/N) grew older and older, reaching the human age of 25 within 7 years of her birth, Aro would spend more and more time with her, examining and studying her possibilities and her potential powers’ development. (Y/N) grew up to be extremely strong and fast, an excellent tracker with great intelligence and understanding of the world around her. However, Aro could not risk sending her to “Volturi duties”. She was his hope for a stronger coven; with (Y/N) in the throne, Aro felt like he could conquer the vampire world with ease.

That’s why he was always searching for the best guards he could find, to protect the coven and do his work instead of himself, Caius, or (Y/N). He couldn’t rely on Marcus, as he proved to be too emotional since Didyme died, but was still valuable for his plan. Caius, on the other hand, although powerless, was far more sadistic and “diligent” in following vampire rules, and (Y/N)... (Y/N) was just too obedient, following every order Aro gave her - a strong asset for the Volturi.

Aro was changing guards and trackers quite easily, disposing them when they were no longer needed or when he found better ones. He needed talented and strong vampires to serve the coven and do their work.

Chelsea was the very first vampire Aro created solely to serve the Volturi, after recognizing her potential when she was human. Chelsea’s gift of relationship manipulation was truly useful in bringing new vampires into the coven and was used thousands of times during Volturi's reign. It could also easily dispose of them, making their bonds with other vampires break at will; those vampires were isolated by the other vampires and then killed - Aro couldn’t risk letting them get away knowing the Volturi’s secrets and life.

About 100 years later, Corin joined the Volturi, just a couple decades after (Y/N)’s birth. Corin’s gift of addictive contentment was the one which kept Marcus in the Volturi after Didyme’s death - along with Chelsea’s to make him committed to Aro’s greater plans, and was also used on Sulpicia, Athenadora and any other vampire in the Volturi guard to keep them satisfied being in the Volturi. Under Aro’s instructions, Corin was keeping Chelsea content with being in the Volturi, and Chelsea was keeping Corin loyal to them, each of them using their gifts against each other, without their knowledge.

Sometime between 230 and 220 BC, while travelling in Rome, searching for additional vampires to add to the coven, Aro supposedly met a young, strong and ambitious fighter, who wished to become a gladiator one day, named Felix. Felix did not only look, but also was physically capable of fighting even with beasts, during his short time as a fighter, way before the Colosseum was built. Born into a poor family, his strength was his only way of making money, and becoming a gladiator was his only way out of poverty, a way to provide for both his family and himself.

When his family was almost imprisoned by Roman army officers for outstanding debts, Felix was forced to make a deal with them to fight, in whatever they ordered him to. Fighting turned out to be the only way for Felix to deal with his emotions and rage towards people in power. When Aro approached Felix, he was promised a good life, where he wouldn’t have to worry about surviving another day. Felix did not seem willing enough, not being fond of the idea of serving people in power, who he so despised.

Luckily for Aro, Chelsea was the one who “convinced” Felix to join the Volturi guard, with Aro changing him afterwards. Unlike previous guards, Felix showed impeccable strength, speed and talent towards both dodging and initiating attacks, eventually making him a permanent member in the Volturi Guard, along with Chelsea and Corin.

Felix was assigned as the leading guard for the three kings’ protection, this role extending to the protection of their two wives and (Y/N); though Aro knew that, if it came to anyone attacking his granddaughter, she would be able to handle it by herself. However, he still wanted to make sure that she was safe and that Aro would do anything to protect her.

For about a couple millennias, (Y/N) was content with her situation, being the “Volturi princess” and all that. Besides, having Felix in the Volturi was another reason to stay in the coven, apart from staying loyal and true to Aro for taking her in, when she was abandoned.

Every time Felix looked into her eyes, she felt her whole body burn - though, it wasn’t a feeling of suffering, rather a feeling of longing, waiting for something to happen so badly that her body couldn’t control itself. Although she was partially a vampire, (Y/N) would feel like she couldn’t breathe, like her legs were ready to give up on her, like she wanted to grab Felix and never let go.

Felix, although not admitting it even to himself, would feel the same way, but he knew that his position would not allow him to approach (Y/N) in such a way. He was just a guard - although he was the strongest of them all, and she was the Volturi princess, one of his masters, whom he was only allowed to approach in order to protect. He didn’t want Aro to know he saw his granddaughter like that; it could cost him his position in the guard, or even his life. So, he kept these feelings deep within him, not allowing them to resurface, or act upon them.

However, every time these two existed at the same place, the invisible sparks between them would fly left and right. And only one vampire was able to see them. One who hadn’t felt these sparks in centuries.

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

(Y/N)’s POV:

I yawned loudly as I woke from a long, much needed sleep. I was the only vampire around who was able to sleep, mostly due to my non-vampire natures. I didn't really need to sleep on a regular basis, but when I did, I could literally sleep 3 days straight and nobody would be able to wake me up. “For my own protection”, as Aro said, I would always have at least two guards outside of my room’s door, in case anything happened while I was sleeping. Like what could even happen? My room was at the furthest side of this huge castle. I’m pretty sure that if there ever was an attack against the Volturi, it would most probably have been dealt with immediately, and the attacker wouldn’t make it anywhere near my room.

I felt the warm sun on my skin, slightly glowing and sparkling beautifully. My eyes, mostly (Y/E/C) with a golden ring around the pupil, could easily adjust to the light. Unlike the other vampires, I could easily live among humans; I could sleep, eat human food, my skin not being as sparkly as others, and I could control my thirst far better than others.

Since Jane and Alec joined the coven, Aro would show an immense interest in them and their skills, helping them train daily and develop their powers further, eventually forgetting about me. I would spend more and more days away from the castle, “protected” by my anonymity, getting to know humans more and more. The longer I was observing them, the more they would trigger my interest in them. They could feel true emotions, real pain, real hurt, real love. They had their families, they received an unconditional love that I could never have.

Unbeknownst to Aro or anyone else for that matter, I have started developing new powers, similar to the other vampires in the Volturi coven or anyone else outside of it. I have also started noticing that I may have an immunity towards others’ talents, feeling that neither Corin’s addictive contentment made me satisfied with being in the Volturi, nor Chelsea’s relationship manipulation could keep me loyal to Aro anymore. If it weren’t for Felix, or Demetri and the Twins, who have all become my best friends by now, I would have probably left.

A vampire named Carlisle Cullen had visited the Volturi and stayed with us for a while, about 100 years ago. He saw the way the Volturi treated humans like they were nothing, and how they were as cruel as to kill other vampires, with the excuse that they were exposing our kind with the way they lived. Entire covens had been wiped out due to such excuses, a way to eliminate potential enemies from becoming too powerful and find as many talented vampires as possible and force them to join the Volturi.

Carlisle was talking about a new way of life, where vampires wouldn’t have to kill humans to survive, a life where vampires and humans could live in peace, without harming each other. He was insisting that vampires could survive on animal blood just as efficiently as with human blood; that animal blood would not make them weaker, and that it would be a much more ethical and sustainable way to feed.

Of course, Aro and Caius were the first ones to mock his proposition, clearly not caring about humans’ feelings and pain. Marcus did not budge at all, his heartache making him indifferent to anything around him. But I was growing more and more interested in this alternative way of life; I was, after all, feeding on human food already, so that I was feeding on human blood as little as I could.

It was a few years after Carlisle left Volterra that Eleazar joined the Volturi. Aro forced him to join after finding out he could detect if someone had any special ability. Aro considered his gift useful in identifying if any of his enemies had any special power when in battles, or when he sent Eleazar around the world to recruit talented vampires.

Eleazar was clearly not liking the way the Volturi forced their ways and wants on others, and how they could take advantage of others for their own benefit. I could just sense that he was displeased and was forcing himself to stay in the coven, one, due to Corin’s and Chelsea’s gifts, and two, out of fear of what could happen to him and his mate, Carmen.

Carmen, a vampire from Spain, like Eleazar, met with Eleazar while he was a guard here, they fell in love, and eventually, Eleazar decided to leave the Volturi and run away with Carmen. Aro decided that he did not care about him and his gift as much as others’, so he let him go unharmed, “blessing” them for safe travels.

Just a few days before he left, I consulted him on my own powers. Though a lower member of the guard, Eleazar had his own room, a decent place to stay, and spend his endless hours in. I knocked slightly on the door.

“Come in”, a calm voice was heard. I opened the door and came into his room. Carmen was sitting on the edge of their bed and Eleazar was reading a book on his desk. They both smiled sweetly. I just felt and knew they were too nice to fit anywhere in here, among the cruel and strict Volturi.

“(Y/N)! So nice to see you!”Carmen exclaimed and stood to hug me. The second we hugged I started seeing parts of her life in Spain, the calm waters of Catalunya, the vast vineyards where she would spend the early years of her life… I quickly detached myself from her embrace. I just couldn’t invade her privacy like that. She and Eleazar both looked at me worried, as if I had offended them.

“I’m sorry. I just can’t let you “show” me your whole life like that!” I looked at Carmen apologetically.

“(Y/N), you saw Carmen’s life?” Eleazar continued, intrigued by my words.

“That’s why I came to talk to you. I..I feel like I’ve been developing a gift, or a few gifts, to be completely honest. And I feel like.. like I have a specific power one day, and another power the next!” I stated frantically.

It was the first time I have openly talked about my powers to anyone, and I was shaking just by the words that came out of my mouth. Eleazar did not say anything, he just stood there for a few minutes, I supposed “examining” me, as if a doctor checking on a patient.

“Remarkable.” He said calmly. He looked at his mate with excitement, as if he just discovered a lost treasure. “(Y/N) has one of the most remarkable gifts I have ever seen.” He then turned to me. “You, (Y/N), are able to copy anyone else’s gifts and keep them as your own. You don’t even have to be in contact with them. Just by meeting someone, you can obtain their powers. I have never met anyone like that. You also seem to have obtained immunity to others’ powers, kind of like a shield. I have met such vampires before. From the stories Aro has been telling, your mother was like that. It is likely that you copied that gift for her. Such vampires are extremely useful to themselves or even others, in battles. Like themselves, you can use your gift to protect others from others’ powers, beside yourself.”

That came too sudden to my ears. I have assumed that I may have at least one power, but I didn’t realise I could copy others’ powers. That is why I was showing signs of Aro’s power!

“How can I train my powers? Eleazar! Carmen! You have to help me!”

“As you know, we will be leaving soon. I don’t know if there will be enough time to train you.”

“It’s okay. We will train as much as you want. Please, Eleazar! Please, Carmen!” I started begging them. As if they were hypnotized, they quickly looked at each other and agreed to help me.

The next few days, before Eleazar and Carmen’s departure, included intense training, far away from Volterra, deep in the woods, where no human could interrupt us. I couldn’t say the same for vampires, but I hoped nobody would cross paths with us. Eleazar and Carmen helped me develop my self-control and self-awareness, concentrating through the deepest parts of my mind, resurfacing my shield and expanding it beyond my existence. I started to have control over it, as if it was an actual solid substance, a veil floating around me towards any direction I ordered it to go.

After Eleazar and Carmen left, I started travelling the world more, trying to copy as many powers as I could come across with, while also training my shield. My excitement for the endless possibilities was what kept me going - kind of when Aro would add another talented vampire to his Guard. His Guard. Felix. I wonder how he was. I hadn’t seen him in a while. I wondered if he thought of me like I thought of him.

After travelling pretty much anywhere I could reach, I eventually went back to where it all started: I went to Greece. Aro met Sulpicia here, apparently my mom met my dad here. Maybe I could find out, understand why they left me. I have never met them, but I felt as if my tracking skills could detect them through my own existence.

I started travelling through the country, hoping that they stayed here or, at least, that they’re alive. I spent about 2 or 3 years in Greece, trying to take in every different place, while also avoiding the battles that seemed to take place in every other corner. I was feeding off animals mainly, mostly when I couldn’t find any other human food. I was washing myself in rivers, streams, whatever I could find.

I was stopping by any village that seemed to be still standing, asking about the current situation. The Greek Revolution, which started a few years ago, seemed to still be going on. The Ottomans, who had been occupying Greece for almost 400 years, could not allow Greeks to turn against them and start claiming their rights within the Ottoman Empire.

Many Greeks I met and talked to, admitted that some of the Ottomans were actually being nice to them; it was only the Ottoman government ordering their armies to execute massive massacres against Greeks, and after all this time, a few Greeks started gathering up and planning a revolution, away from Greece, in fear of being caught. They started getting organized and finding possible allies to help them with the Revolution; they just couldn’t risk getting caught within the country that they were hoping the independent Greece could become. The battles were becoming more and more intense, both on the mainland, as well as on the islands.

I started looking for answers, anything that could suggest that my parents were still alive and somewhere in Greece. To my surprise, I crossed paths with many Greek nomad vampires all over the country. They were also fighting against either Ottoman vampires or each other for territorial claims; however, they all talked me out of travelling north, towards Macedonia. The region had started being reclaimed back by Greek humans, but vampires were also seeing the potential for the area and they fought against each other for the land.

All of the nomads I encountered were talking about some of the most vicious vampires claiming the land, their enemies being literally slaughtered and burned to set an example for other vampires to back off their territory. I was intrigued, and I knew that, most probably, I would be able to deal with them or flee before they got to me.

So, I started travelling north, through the woods and mountains, in order to avoid any possible battle between humans, though many of them seemed to hide in the mountains, preparing for their battles. Macedonia was a quite big and vast region, so I had to travel quite a few days and search every possible corner.

I know I shouldn’t have done this, but I was feeling exhausted from all the searching. I haven’t fed in quite some time, and my throat was burning by the familiar need for blood. I haven’t seen any animals all these days, and I was wondering if they were gone or hiding.

Sadly, I came across a human. He seemed to be wounded, probably during a battle, his blood gushing out of his body. I couldn’t help myself, when I breathed in the smell, the burning sensation becoming unbearable. I thought of approaching him slowly, so as not to scare him, offering to help him, but deep down I just wanted to feed off of him.

“Γειά! Συγνώμη αν σε τρόμαξα. Σε είδα από μακριά. Μπορώ να σε βοηθήσω με κάποιο τρόπο; (Hey! Sorry if I scared you. I saw you from afar. Can I help you in any way?)” I offered calmly.

The man was trying to suppress his growls. I could sense his pain. I tried to help him stand on his feet, and then I saw all of his memories. He was in the army, fighting alongside Greeks against the Ottomans, in Macedonia, just outside of Thessaloniki. I didn’t even know I was so close to a city, let alone Thessaloniki.

He was trying to pass through the woods, when he came across what seemed to be two red-eyed vampires, one male and one female. They tried to attack him, but someone else managed to shoot him first, forcing the two vampires to run away. I don’t know how or why, these two felt familiar to me, I could feel that through his memories.

“Γειά! Μπορείς.. Μπορείς να πας στο κοντινότερο χωριό; Νομίζω.. Νομίζω ότι είδα κάτι στο δάσος, δε νομίζω ότι ήταν κάτι φυσιολογικό! Πρέπει.. Πρέπει να προειδοποιήσω τους άλλους! (Hey! Can.. Can you get me to the nearest village? I think.. I think I saw something in the woods, I don’t think it was something normal! I have.. I have to warn the others!)” He mumbled in between sharp shoots of pain.

“Με συγχωρείς πολύ! (I’m really sorry!)” I plead with guilty eyes. I put my hand in his wound, searching for the bullet, while he was consumed by pain. I took the bullet out of the wound, and quickly attached my lips on his skin, sucking the blood as fast as I could, biting deeply unintentionally. His screams were becoming louder and louder, so I covered his mouth with my hand, while trying to shut him up or break his jaw. A few seconds later, he stopped screaming, and I let his lifeless body fall, completely numb and drained out of blood.

I felt renewed, his blood travelling to every part of my body and giving me a new kind of strength that I haven’t felt in a while. I still felt guilty for killing him, but he was already wounded and I couldn’t risk him exposing our kind to others. I assumed that whoever found him - if anyone found him - would also assume that he died of blood loss, so I tried to position him in a realistic pose for that purpose, as best as I could. I left him there, and continued the search for my parents.

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

I was running through the woods, trying to locate the two vampires from the guy’s memories. My mind was chaotic, I wasn’t thinking about something specific. I stopped in my tracks. What Aro taught me, and what I understood from Demetri’s tracking skills, is that you have to stop, take a breath and realize your position in the world. Then, you would be able to realize everything around you and find your targets. I have successfully found other vampires like that before, vampires who I have either met in person or smelled their scent, but I didn’t know if I could find someone through someone else’s memories of them.

I took a deep breath and tried to concentrate as best as I could, focusing on the smaller details of the guy’s memories of these vampires. I felt two vampires running on my west, about 10 kilometers away, and I ran after them. They were running fast, but I was way faster. Within a minute or two, I was running right behind their tracks. They must have realized that a stranger was following them, but, instead of running, they suddenly stopped. I stopped as well, and we were now facing each other.

The female had long, brunette, curly hair, and the male short, dark brown, straight hair; both of their hair looked shiny, healthy, and rich. They were of average height and their eyes were piercing red, as if they also fed quite recently. The female was exceptionally beautiful and enchanting; I could only compare her to Heidi’s exceptional beauty. The male looked quite stoic and austere, though still beautiful.

Both of them on defensive positions, waiting for me to attack. I wasn’t planning to move any further from my position; I was only waiting for their own reactions. I felt that kind of a burning sensation within me again, like a feeling buried deep inside me, trying to find an escape.

Suddenly, the male growled at me, flames springing out of his hands, and being thrown at me. I felt my heart fall out of my chest, fearing that this would be my end. As if my body reacted on its own, I felt my own shield extending out of my body, building a wall around me and protecting me from the male’s attack. My hands started burning and flames came out, ready to counterattack the male. The male looked at the female, dumbfounded by what he witnessed, still in a defensive position, but ready to attack again.

“I’M NOT HERE TO FIGHT YOU!” I shouted at both of them. “I’M JUST SEARCHING FOR SOMEONE!”

The male shrinked back, the female following close by. “Who are you looking for? We haven’t seen you around. Who are you? Why are you here?” The male requested. His voice serious, but smooth at the same time; a voice I could only describe as the warm earth below their bare feet.

“No, I’m not. I come from Italy, though I think I was born around here. My name is (Y/N), I’m looking for my parents. I don’t quite remember what they look like, but I’m pretty sure that they lived around here. They abandoned me when I was a baby.”

“This has been our territory for almost 3 millennials! We would have known if any humans abandoned their offspring around here!” The female exclaimed, as if she didn’t believe a word I said. I didn’t want to tell them the whole story, but I had to show them that I didn’t mean to fight in any way.

“I never said they were humans. My mother was actually sort of a vampire, like you.”

The female started letting her guards down. “What do you mean sort of? I’ve never heard of a “sort of vampire” before!” She continued doubtfully.

“Believe me or don’t, my mother was born half vampire, half human. My dad wasn’t even a vampire before she met him. He wasn’t even human to be honest.” My eyes started stinging slightly. I could have had a good, happy life if they didn’t abandon me. I wouldn’t have to grow up with Aro.

“You said you were from Italy.” I nodded at the male, as he continued. “You never said where exactly.”

I wasn’t sure if I should tell them my real origin; I wouldn’t like them to know I was a Volturi, but I knew I needed help to find my parents. If they were actually here as long as they say, they might have known or met my parents at some point.

“Volterra. I was born here, in Greece, like my mother, but grew up in Volterra with my grandparents.” I looked down, kind of scared, kind of anxious, waiting for their next move.

The female gasped. “Are you a Volturi?!” I looked at her, straight in the eyes, swallowed, and nodded. “I know the Volturi. Who are your grandparents?”

“Aro and Sulpicia.” I answered so quietly that, if they weren’t vampires, they wouldn’t have heard me, my voice trembling slightly.

The female suddenly fell on her knees, the male wrapping his arms around her, comforting her. I didn’t know what was going on. Did I say something wrong? Were they scared? The sheer mention of the Volturi would scare a lot of vampires, but I thought that maybe these two seemed strong enough to deal with them.

The female started sobbing, no tears coming out of her red eyes, her body shaking. I felt something within me break. I felt that I didn’t want to upset them, that’s why I was hesitant in telling them who I really was. The male looked at me, pain in his eyes. I saw a familiar look. I saw me in his eyes, what I looked at in my mirror anytime I was thinking about my parents, or, sometimes, when I thought of Felix.

“Are you a half witch?” The male asked quietly. Something snapped in me. How would he know that?

“I swear, I didn’t do anything to your mate! I DIDN’T!” I shouted at the male. I didn’t want him to think that I would hurt his mate, or himself.

“I know you wouldn’t. It’s just..” He looked at his mate who had stopped sobbing, but was still down on her knees, unable to stand up. “..my mate is Aro and Sulpicia Volturi’s only daughter.”

My body tensed and shivered. If that woman is the only daughter Aro and Sulpicia ever had...could that mean..?

I took a few steps back. “AM I YOUR DAUGHTER? ARE YOU MY PARENTS?” I looked at them in disbelief.

Those were the people who abandoned me! That let me grow parentless, under Aro’s rules and directions! I was breathing heavily, in between sobs. I didn’t even realize that I set my whole body ablaze, until both vampires looked at me shocked. I didn’t feel any pain, but I couldn’t stop the flames licking my body, and in my frantic state, I started panicking even more.

The male started approaching me slowly, trying to not scare me away. “Shush, shush. You’re okay. You’re doing okay. I know how it feels at first. You’re experiencing some aspects of the life as a witch. It’s okay. Close your eyes and picture the flames in your head.” I closed my eyes and tried concentrating on the flames. “Now, imagine them burning out, becoming smaller and weaker.” I focused on the flames, imagining them weakening. After a few minutes, I felt them getting smaller and smaller, and finally disappearing. I opened my eyes slowly.

The female was standing next to the male, watching me carefully. In a quick motion, she pulled me and embraced me, stroking my hair lightly. I breathed in her scent, a mix of mountain flowers and the saltiness of the sea. Her touch was soft, and filled me up with what felt like a thousand different emotions.

But, I mostly felt safe. It was the first time in my life that I actually felt this safe. And whole. I felt like I actually belonged somewhere. I hugged her back. Tears started spilling from my eyes. That was my mom! That was actually my mom! After all this time, we were finally together. I felt the male, my dad, hugging both of us, and in that moment, I felt my legs giving up on me, and I finally fell into a long sleep.

[fandom-imagines-stories]

Run to You Part Two

Derek Morgan x Reader

Words: 2494

Part One

Summary: Having been dating for a while, you finally feel comfortable enough to introduce your boyfriend to your daughter, Angelica. Derek takes on the role better than you could have imagined and you start to feel like a family. Then one day, Angelica disappears from a friend’s house and your ex husband starts making demands. 

Notes: Thank you all for the support you’ve shown for this series so far! Funnily enough, this three parter is actually similar to a Fox Mulder x Reader series I started a couple of months ago that may or may not see the light of day. I guess if you guys really like this plot and if you like The X Files, let me know if you’d be interested in that. 

Warnings: Mentions of domestic abuse, stalking, kidnapping. 

More Criminal Minds: HERE

-

Derek made a half-hour drive take twenty minutes and pulled up to the front of the school. Local police had already been called in and were bombarding you with questions. He broke through the wall of officers to get to you. 

“Oh thank god,” You exclaimed and he took you in his arms without a second hesitation. “She’s gone.” You sobbed into his chest. “He took her. I know he did.” 

“Ma’am, I need you to calm down and tell us who you think took your daughter.” A female officer said calmly, taking another step towards you.

“Stop crowding her. Everybody back up!” Derek ordered. 

“I’m sorry, sir, who are you?” Another officer asked, sounding defensive. Derek pulled out his badge. 

“SSA Derek Morgan. I’m from the Behavioral Analysis Unit.” 

“It’s a little early to call you guys in, isn’t it?” The first officer said. 

“I’m not here officially. I know the missing girl.” 

“Then we’re going to need to ask you a few questions.” The defensive officer snapped. You pushed in between them. 

“I know who took her. Please, we have to find my baby.” 

“Y/N, just take a deep breath, okay.” Derek put a hand on your shoulder and waited for you to calm down a little. “Now, what do you mean you know who took Angelica?” You tried to keep a sob from escaping, but the tears fell freely. 

“Her father.” You watched Derek’s face morph with confusion. “My ex-husband.” 

-

You sat in the police station with Derek’s hand running up and down your back as you slowly sipped a glass of water. You hardly remembered getting there or seeing members of Derek’s team arrive. Since there was already a leading suspect, the BAU wouldn’t be called in, but Agent Hotchner and Agent Prentiss came anyway to help Derek consult with the police. 

“Ma’am, my name is Gina. I’m going to need to ask you a couple of questions, okay?” The officer from earlier started. You nodded, drinking the rest of your water. 

“Um, Derek, maybe you should go talk to Agent Hotchner and Agent Prentiss. Ask them what they need to know from me.” You suggested. You didn’t want to have to explain everything to him like it was an interrogation. Derek nodded in understanding and gently kissed the side of your head. 

“Let me know if you need anything.” He gave Gina a thankful smile and joined Hotch. 

“The police said they don’t have any problems with us being here as long as we stay out of their way.” Hotch informed, casting a sympathetic look in your direction. “How is she?”

“Her little girl is missing, Hotch. She’s doing about as well as you’d expect.” Morgan sighed. 

“What do we know about the suspect? She seems pretty certain that her ex is the one that took her daughter.” Prentiss asked. 

“Just his name and that they used to be married. I’m gonna call and see what Garcia can dig up.” He pulled out his cell and kept his eyes on you as you spoke to the officer. 

“All-knowing goddess, what can I do for you?” Penelope answered cheerfully. 

“I need your help, babygirl.” He said seriously. “Y/N’s little girl is missing.” 

“Oh god.” She gasped. With still so many more questions, she readied her fingers over her keyboard. “What do you need?”

“Lance Booker. Anything and everything you can find on him: properties, businesses, residences, especially places in the last six years.” He heard a flurry of typing before she answered. 

“Got it. I’ll send you the list forthwith.” There was a long pause, followed by a sad gasp. 

“What is it, Garcia?”

“Lance Booker’s ex-wife, Y/N… your Y/N? Ugh, I hate my job sometimes.” 

“Penelope!” He shouted into the receiver, his sudden outburst making Prentiss jump. 

“Sorry, sorry.” Penelope fretted. “At the time of their divorce six years ago and Y/N receiving full custody of their daughter, Y/N filed a restraining order against Booker with claims of domestic violence. She’s filed multiple reports of stalking since then, but without breaking any of the terms of the restraining order, the police haven’t been able to hold him for anything.” Derek’s hand tightened around the device to the point where he heard the shell crack. 

“Thanks Garcia.” 

“You’re going to find her, Derek.” Penelope assured him quietly. He took a deep breath. 

“I’ll keep you updated. Keep looking into this guy and anyone else who might have taken Angelica.” He snapped his phone shut and pressed it against his forehead, trying to calm himself down. He needed to be the one who held it together. He couldn’t let you see any anger or panic in him because it would just make you angry and panicked even more. 

It seemed like you were finishing up with the officer so he started back in your direction. Seeing him, you stood. Judging from his expression, he knew. 

“Derek, I can explain.” You wanted to reach out to him, but you kept your arms tightly wrapped around yourself as if it kept you from falling to pieces. “I wanted to tell you.” You wiped a stray tear from your cheek. “I wanted to tell you about all of it. About Lance a-and our marriage and everything that happened, but I just didn’t know how.” His eyes softened and he ran his hands down your tense arms. 

“You don’t have to explain anything to me, baby.” While there were so many questions in his mind, none of them mattered. All that mattered was that you were here with him and Angelica was out there somewhere with that man.  

The group fell silent as your phone started to ring. With a shaking hand, you looked down at the unfamiliar number, glancing back up at Derek for instructions. He nodded slowly while Prentiss called Garcia to get a trace on the number. You took a deep breath and answered. 

“Hey baby.” The voice on the other end sent a tremor up your spine. You kept your eyes locked on Derek’s to keep from hanging up right there. 

“Lance, where’s Angelica?” You tried to sound calm but you wanted to rip the bastard apart. 

“You know, she doesn’t even remember me?” He hissed. “When I picked her up from school, she had no idea who I was. But I guess that’s what happens when you decide to replace me for six years.” 

“Lance, please. I need to know that she’s okay.” 

“Of course she’s okay. She’s got Agent Morgan protecting her, right? Oh wait, he failed at that too.” He barked furiously. Your body tensed up even more. 

“How do you know about Derek?” You asked slowly. Derek’s expression didn’t change, but he felt a shot of guilt go through him. He was the trigger. 

“I have ways of knowing.” 

“He wants you to change the subject. Keep talking about Angelica.” Agent Hotchner instructed, keeping his voice low so the other end wouldn’t hear. You nodded in understanding. 

“Lance, I need to know that Angelica is okay. I need to hear her voice.” You kept your voice as level as possible. There was a shuffle on the other end and you nearly broke down when you heard Angelica’s confused voice. 

“Mommy? W-where are you? I wanna go home.” 

“I’m coming, baby. Everything is going to be okay.” You cried, hearing the sound of the phone switching back. 

“We’re going to be a family again.” Lance growled. “I’ll call again soon.” The line went quiet and you finally stopped holding your breath, leaning against the desk. You let the phone slip out of your hand and fall to the floor. 

“Did we get a trace?” Morgan called to the agents behind him, keeping his eyes glued on you. Hotch sighed. 

“Garcia said there was something interfering with the signal.” 

“Lance was a phone technician, he knows how to hide.” You said blankly. “He won’t let us find him until he wants us too.” 

The agents and officers around you were in a frenzy trying to dig up all of the information they could possibly find on Lance. Every time they said his name, you felt the back of his hand or the heel of his boot. For six years, you had been free of him. Angelica had been free of him. How dare he come back and ruin what you had built all on your own?

 Something inside of you switched. You weren’t just  frightened anymore. You were pissed off.

-

You didn’t move. You didn’t eat the food Derek had put in front of you. You didn’t drink the water he’d brought either. All you could do was stare at the phone, leg bouncing up and down anxiously. You hadn’t wanted to go home, but both the police and Agent Hotchner thought it would be a good idea in case Lance tried to contact you there. A team was setting up a device to hook your phone up to so they could control the line. All you could do was watch from the kitchen table, hands clasped in front of you like you were praying.

Derek watched you from the living room as his team set up the phone. He sat down on the couch, running a hand down his face. He should have asked you about Lance sooner. Maybe he could have prevented this if he only knew what had happened. 

“We’re going to find her, Derek.” Prentiss said, sitting down next to him. She’d watched the way that this was tearing him apart. He didn’t respond. Both watched as the youngest of their team approached your table. 

“Miss Y/L/N?” You looked up, finding the agent you could only assume was Dr. Reid. No one else was that young. 

“Yes?”

“I, um, I’m Dr. Spencer Reid. I work with Morgan- I mean, Derek.” He asked to sit down and you just nodded in response. “I would like to talk to you about your ex-husband, if that’s okay?” 

“I don’t know what else I can tell you.” You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Lance was… mean. He was controlling and when he didn’t get what he wanted, he got violent. But he never hurt Angelica. Ever.” You stared at the table’s wooden surface. “I was always there to protect her.” You felt a tear slip down your cheek. Reid’s lips formed a thin line. 

“What was he like before? When you first met him or when you first got married?”

“Well he wasn’t the monster he is now, I can tell you that.” You sneered. “When I met him, he was sweet. Sure, he was mysterious and attractive, so I did whatever he said, but he was romantic and- and different from the other guys I’d dated. When we got married, I thought ‘this is it’, you know? Standing in that little church, everything felt exactly like it was supposed to. But after Angelica was born, everything changed. It was like he’d been hiding this creature under his skin all those years and it was finally emerging.” 

“Do you remember anything specific that might have triggered this change?” 

You shook your head. “I just remember the first time it happened. There weren’t any warning signs or anything. He hadn’t been irritable or upset. He just… snapped. Angelica was in her high chair and she had thrown her bowl of food on the floor. He must have heard the sound and he came into the kitchen. When I knelt down to clean it, he grabbed my hair and pulled me up, screaming about how it was my fault. How I made a mess and that he was going to show me what happens to people who mess up his life. And then he hit me. He hit me over and over and left me on the floor to clean. I should’ve- I should have left him right there. I should have taken her and run, but I didn’t. In my head, it wasn’t his fault. It was because of his past, it was because of me. I should have run. I should have left. I should-” 

“Miss Y/L/N.” Reid interrupted, allowing you to gasp for air. You must have forgotten to breathe. He looked like he wanted to say something, but he was stopped by the shrill, dooming sound of the phone. 

You bolted from the table and joined the agents in the living room, waiting for the signal to answer. 

“Okay, you remember how it works?” Derek asked. You nodded. “Alright. Keep him talking. Don’t let him go off the subject of Angelica. You just want your daughter back. You don’t want to hurt him.” He pointed at the device and you picked up the receiver with a shaking hand. 

“Hello?” 

“Tell Agent Morgan he can’t replace me.” 

“Lance, I’m tired. I just want Angelica back safe.”

“No, you want to play happy family with your BAU boyfriend. He isn’t her father. I am!” He spoke with the fury of a madman. Derek looked at the rest of the team grimly. Lance was spiralling. 

“What do you want me to do, Lance? I’ll do anything to get her back, just please, I miss my daughter.” You cried. Derek pressed the button and muted the call. 

“Y/N, you have to keep calm. I know it’s hard, but Lance is trying to push you. He wants you to break, but you can’t.” He took your hand, softening his tone. “I’m right here. You can do this.” Under Derek’s comforting voice, you could hear Lance start to ramble. 

“I just want us to be happy again. Do you remember when we were happy?” You waited for Derek to press the button again before responding. 

“Y-yeah, I remember.” 

“We can be happy again. We can be happy again…” His voice trailed off and you heard a shuffling sound. 

“Wait, don’t hang-” You exclaimed, but the line went dead. You slammed the receiver back down and kicked the coffee table it sat on. “He’s going to kill her. He’s going to kill her.” You pushed a lamp over and listened to the bulb shatter against the carpet. Before you could break anything else, or hurt yourself, Derek locked his arms around you, pinning yours to your side. “Let me go! He’s going to kill her! It’s my fault! It’s all my fault!” 

He kept a hold of you as you screamed, sitting down on the couch with you on his lap. The other agents just stood, watching the scene of turmoil. Reid was standing completely skill, eyes darting in between invisible words in his head. He suddenly looked at Prentiss. 

“Get Garcia on the phone.” He said, turning back to you and Morgan. 

“What did you get?” Prentiss asked. She was still trying to decipher everything that Booker said. Reid swallowed. 

“I think I know where he might be keeping Angelica.” 

-

General Tag: @rae-gar-targaryen; @takemepedropascal; @childhood-imagination;  @mylovegoesto; @yellowbadgergirl; @itmejado; @suckmyapplejacks

Series: @ weasleytommy, @ lowsodiumfreaks67, @panhoeofmanyfandoms

[thetravelerwrites]

Birch (Centaur)

Rating: Mature Relationship: Female Human/Male Centaur Additional Tags: Exophilia, Monster Boyfriend, Centaur, Reader Insert Content Warnings: Communication Disorder, Social Communication Disorder, Anxiety, Autism, Autistic Reader, Semi-Verbal Autism, Semi-Verbal Reader, Overbearing Mother, Verbal Abuse, Emotional Abuse, Ableism Series: Shelter Forest Words: 4758

Commissioned by an anonymous party, Birch finally gets his own story! The reader, who has a communication disorder, meets and somehow befriends a beautiful centaur named Birch, who lives in the woods with his family and is known throughout the town as being a bit of a playboy and a flirt. When he realizes how poorly the reader is treated by her mother, he immediately tries to rescue her. Please reblog and leave feedback!

The Traveler's Masterlist

You first saw him when you were thirteen year old. You and your mother came to Coleville to beg for work after your father had kicked you both out of the house for another woman. You and your mother worked in the laundry and kitchen of the town’s most popular tavern, washing bed sheets and tableware, so you hadn’t really had the chance to meet him when he came into town to trade. You were only ever able to watch him from a distance

He was massive, friendly, and beautiful. His horse body was the size and color of a buckskin Andalusian, with a pale tan body fur and black socks. His skin was suntanned from working in the fields of his home farm and he always wore a simply-made tunic. His hair was short and black, and his tail was long and black, but his eyes were a bright, clear blue. He smiled easily and seemed to get along with everyone. You fell in love with him as soon as you laid eyes on him.

Well, no, you knew even then that it wasn’t love, it was just fascination and infatuation, but you couldn’t help yourself. You were overjoyed every time you saw him. Not that he’d ever notice you. You were just a plain, poor, chubby laundress with red, chapped hands and a future of working in a tavern for the rest of your life. Why would he even glance at you?

You wouldn’t be able to speak to him, even if he did. You were terribly shy and timid. You’d always been that way and couldn’t help it. Talking to people, looking them in the eye, facing confrontation, it all made you terrified and shaky. You barely spoke to anyone who wasn’t your parents, although you really didn’t speak to them that much, either. You were sure the most used word in your vocabulary was sorry.

When you were younger, your parents had hoped you’d grow out of it, but you never did. Once you hit puberty and was still unable to speak, your mother began to despair of you, pushing you to talk and berating you when you couldn’t, which only made you withdraw more. You couldn’t blame her for being exasperated with you; you were just as frustrated with yourself as she was. She never said it, but you knew she blamed you for your father rejecting you both.

Even though Birch usually came alone, you were sure he must already be married or have a lover, though he was openly flirtatious. You knew he’d had a few girls in town on occasion, having overheard them bragging about their nights with him, though they all seemed to be one-night trysts or affairs that didn’t last long. Perhaps he wasn’t even interested in settling down with anyone and was the playboy type. He was gorgeous enough for it.

Once or twice, he came to town with his family members or to visit family members who had settled here, like his brother Cetzu, the lizardfolk man running the orphanage with his wife. They were all a strange lot: some were human, most were not. You only ever saw one other centaur, and he looked nothing like Birch; he was a younger, smaller piebald named Yew with black skin, white hair, and pale eyes. You’d heard rumors that there was a mixed family in the woods, living on a farm, and that they were all sorts, but it didn’t really seem real to you until you saw them all together.

He’d come to town one day to buy seeds and supplies and came into the tavern for a drink. For centaurs, alcohol was basically food to them, so they drank heavily and often. A lot of centaurs you’d known got pretty rowdy, but Birch was always mindful. He held his ale well and knew when to stop before getting fully inebriated, careful not to make an ass of himself. He was considerate. You liked that about him.

You were working in the kitchens at the time when he arrived, and he sat at one of the tables designed for four-legged folk. It was a long table with no chairs or benches, but flat cushions instead. He folded his legs under him and flagged the waitress, smiling his dazzling smile, and ordered ale and some roasted vegetables. You were neglecting your work, but even if it was just a few seconds, you wanted to commit his image to memory as often as you could.

“Oi!” The waitress, Cathy, hissed as she came toward the door of the kitchen to put in Birch’s order. “What are you doing?!”

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” You said, barely audibly.

“Go take him his ale,” She said. “We’re understaffed. If you’re going to be in the way, the least you can do is be useful.”

“I…!" You protested, but she pushed past you into the kitchen to yell at the cook. With you heart in your throat, you rushed to fill a clean tankard and skittered it over, setting it down on the table in front of him without looking at him.

“Ah, that was fast,” Birch said, his voice deep, rich, and wonderful to the ear. “You’re a lovely little thing. Are you new, sweet pea? I haven’t seen you in the tavern before.”

You looked down at the ground and didn’t answer. You weren’t sure what to do, whether to stay and try to be friendly, or retreat back to the kitchen, so you were frozen there with indecision, looking at the floor.

“Hey now, don’t be shy, love. I don’t bite,” He said, you assumed in an attempt to be flirty, reaching for your hand. You snatched your hand away impulsively and ran back to the kitchen.

Your heart was racing and your mind reeling. Why did I do that? You thought, covering your face with your hands. He probably thinks I’m crazy or a complete shrew! I should never leave the back rooms again and just stick to washing dishes.

After a few moments, though, your mother pulled you away from washing by the arm.

“What did you do?” She asked angrily. “One of the customers is asking for you!”

You panicked. “I… I just… I brought him his drink…” You whispered in terror.

“Come on,” She gripped your arm and pulled you back out into the tavern common room, where Birch was still sitting. He looked at you with a frown. Oh god, he looks annoyed, you thought nervously.

“Miss,” He said, and you stared at your feet, unable to look up. “I think I may have frightened or upset you. I’m sorry, I sometimes forget that not everyone is receptive to my personality or sense of humor.”

You were completely unable to speak and kept your head down, your shoulders hunched.

“Say something!” Your mother hissed at you, and you could only shrink into yourself further. “I’m sorry, sir,” Your mother said in exasperation. “My daughter is as timid as a field mouse. She can’t speak to other people and she never looks people in the eye. She can barely even speak to me. She’s always been like this.”

“Oh,” He said, sounding concerned. “Is she unwell?”

“Probably,” Your mother replied in annoyance, and you pulled away even further. “Though the doctors can’t tell us what’s wrong with her. She usually stays in the kitchen and laundry away from the customers. I don’t know what possessed her to come out here and bother you.”

“C… Ca…” You stuttered, struggling to speak in your defense, looking back toward the kitchen, where Cathy was hovering by the door.

“Oh, did Cathy ask you to bring me my drink?” He asked kindly.

You nodded fervently.

“I understand. I’m sorry that she put you in an uncomfortable situation, and I apologize for making it worse.”

Your mother sighed wearily. “Sir, don’t apologize to her. It’s not your fault that she can’t function like a normal adult.”

That hurt. You were on the verge of tears and hugged your arms around yourself, desperately wanting to escape back to the kitchen.

“Even so,” He said, his voice cold, but softened when he addressed you. “I’m very sorry, miss.”

You nodded once and shuffled quickly back to the kitchen, unable to keep the tears from falling. Your mother rejoined you a few minutes later.

“You could have at least apologized to him,” He said, taking the plates as you washed them to rinse them off and put them in the rack. “Why do you have to embarrass me like that? How hard is it to say ‘thank you’ or ‘I’m sorry’?” She sighed sharply and wiped her hands. “Don’t you dare get us fired.” And she walked off, leaving you weeping into the dishwater.

Cathy heard the entire thing and came over sheepishly.

“Hey… I’m sorry I got you in trouble with your ma,” She said. “I forgot about the speaking thing. I was just in a rush and I didn’t think.”

You shook your head. Cathy was the one person who you might call a friend. She was a little brusque and had a short fuse, but she was one of the few who didn’t make fun of your stuttering and silence or look down their nose at you.

“Listen, Birch is a really nice guy. He plays around and has his fun with the girls, but he’s never hurt anyone on purpose. He wasn’t trying to make fun of you or make you feel bad.”

You nodded shortly. You knew that. He was being friendly; that’s just how he talked to people. But being humiliated in front of him was a torture unlike anything you’d felt before, and it hurt.

The next day, you were feeding the chickens in the coop outside of the tavern when you looked up and saw him exiting the tavern. He noticed you right away, and you turned immediately and tried to flee.

“Hey, wait!” He called. “Wait, please!”

You stood with your back to him but you stayed put. You heard him trotting up to you, his hoof-beats heavy.

“Hey, listen, I wanted to apologize again,” He said. “To just you this time. I don’t know what your mother’s problem is, but what she said… that was uncalled for. You didn’t deserve that.”

You turned to face him but you didn’t look up, focusing instead on his large hooves. You shook your head. No, he was wrong. You did deserve it.

“You can’t help how you are,” He said. “It’s not your fault. I have a little brother who has trouble talking to people, too. It’s the exact opposite of your problem; he says exactly what’s on his mind with no filter. He can’t control it and it embarrasses him sometimes. It’s not the same, I know, but I understand that it can be hard.”

He was so nice. You were able to lift your head a little, but you still couldn’t look him in the face.

“My name is Birch,” He said. “What’s yours?”

You opened your mouth but nothing came out, so you shut it again.

“Hmm,” He hummed. “Can you write?”

You shook your head.

“Um… sign language?”

You answered no again.

“I see,” He said, sighing. “I… I’ll be honest… I don’t want to leave you here with that mother of yours. I’m not sure what kind of relationship you have with her, but the way she talks to you…” He pawed the ground in annoyance. “It bothers me. Does she do that a lot? Make fun of you in front of other people?”

You shrugged, embarrassed.

He sidestepped in an anxious way and swished his tail. “I have to go back home later today,” He said. “Are… are you going to be okay?”

You nodded.

“Are you sure?”

Another nod.

“Well… alright,” He said. “Look, um… if you ever need to… you know… leave this place, talk to Cathy. She knows where my family’s farm is. She can help you get there. If you need to.”

You nodded again, and he turned to leave, but an unfamiliar impulse compelled you to rush forward and take hold of the hem of his tunic. He stopped and looked at you, though he could only see the top of your head.

“Th…” You gulped, your throat dry, your heart beating in your throat. “Tha… ank…you…” You managed to choke out. “H… Haz…zel…”

“You’re name is Hazel?” He asked, a smile in his voice.

You nodded emphatically.

You felt him put a hand on top of your head and and sort of rubbed his fingers against your scalp. It felt nice, even though you weren’t used to physical touch. Your mother wasn’t exactly the affectionate sort.

“You take care, okay?” He said, taking his hand back. “I’ll be back in a few days. I look forward to seeing you again.”

That evening, you were in the room you shared with your mother as she brushed her hair for bed when she mentioned nonchalantly, “I saw you with that centaur man today. What did he say to you?”

“...he… nothing…” You said vaguely.

“Then why did he touch you? And why were you touching him?” She asked, her voice flat.

“I…” You gulped. “I… don’t know…” You said truthfully.

“Oh, really? You don’t know? You don’t know why a man like him would touch you? You know his reputation in this town. He’s trying to take advantage of you because you're simple.”

“He was… just… being nice…” You said softly.

Your mother snorted. “Men aren’t nice without a reason. I thought you’d know that by now.” She threw down her hairbrush onto the night table and lay down in your shared bed. “You’re not going to have anything to do with him from now on, do you understand? It shouldn’t be difficult for you to manage that, should it?”

You didn’t say anything, just sat at the table and stared into the fire.

“It’s for your own good,” She said, facing away from you. “I know I’m strict with you, but… I don’t want you to get hurt.”

You have no problem with me getting hurt when you’re the one doing it, you thought to yourself, but you couldn’t say it. You knew she was right, though. He was a flirt and a bit of a libertine, and you thought that perhaps he was only being nice to you because he saw you as low hanging fruit. It hurt to think of him that way, but it was the only thing that made sense.

He did return in a few days, an older woman riding on his back. She was lovely, even at her age, and was wearing trousers and a practical shirt, but no bodice or ladies coat. Her brown hair was caught back in a tight braid, a few strands of grey weaved in and out.

You saw them arrive from the window of your room as you were getting ready for the day. He was as handsome as always, and you watched him wistfully. As if he could sense you, he looked up and saw you at the window. He smiled at you and waved. Remembering what your mother said, you were unable to smile back and walked away from the window without acknowledging him. You hoped he wouldn’t be too angry at you.

Before you could start work in the laundry, Cathy called you out.

“Birch and his mother are here,” She said, keeping her voice down so that your mother wouldn’t hear. “They want to see you.”

“I cant…” You said in your normal whisper. “Mama will be angry…”

“Don’t worry about your ma right now,” Cathy said dismissively. “You don’t deserve the shit she gives you, you’re just too shy to tell her off. Just go see what they want. Maybe it’s a chance to get out from under her thumb.”

You had to admit, you did wish for that. You loved your mother, and she loved you in her own way, but you knew she resented you and it was just… exhausting, dealing with her reproachfulness and cutting words every day. You were just too scared to leave on your own.

You thought long and hard about it, looking around to see if your mother was anywhere near. When you didn’t see her, you looked up at Cathy, looking just past her behind her ear instead of at her face, and nodded. She took you by the hand and led you out to the dining area. Birch and his mother were sitting at the four-legged table, with his mother having dragged over a chair to sit with him comfortably.

“Oh, good, there you are,” Birch said. “When you didn’t react this morning, I was worried something had happened. Mama, this is the young woman I was telling you about.”

He told his mother about you? Why?

“I see, I see,” The older woman said. “My name is Ryel, I’m Birch’s mother. Your name is Hazel, right?”

You nodded, unable to look up.

“Goodness, you are rather shy, aren’t you, dear?” She said sympathetically. You chewed your lip, unable to respond. “My son tells me you’re illiterate, is that correct?”

You nodded.

“I imagine that makes communicating with other people very difficult,” She said.

You nodded again.

“So, how about this?” She said, leaning forward. “Why don’t you come to the farm with me for the summer? I’ll teach you how to read and write, and in exchange, you help me out around the farm. How does that sound?”

For the first time in your life, you were surprised into looking someone in the face. She was smiling warmly at you

“I’m getting older and I could use an assistant. My children all have their own work and families to look after and I’d feel as if I were taking advantage of them if I expected them to follow me around and help me all day.”

“Mama, you know we’d do it happily,” Birch said.

“I know that,” She said, hushing him. “Even still, I’d prefer to hire someone for the task, and if I can help them at the same time, why shouldn’t I?” She leaned forward. “What do you say, dear?”

This is exactly what you wanted. A job that was away from your mom. This was your chance. You opened your mouth, as if to answer, when you heard a sharp voice behind you.

“Hazel!” Your mother said, irate, and stalked out of the kitchen toward you, grabbing you by the arm. “Stop bothering these people! Get back to the laundry.”

Birch’s back leg kicked slightly in irritation, thumping the wood of the floor, but Ryel kept her composure.

“She’s not bothering us in the least, madam,” She said calmly. “I’ve actually come here to offer her a job.”

Your mother scoffed. “A job? Doing what?”

“As my assistant,” Ryel said. “I’m a jack of all trades type, you might say, and I’m willing to take her on in exchange for room and board, plus an education.”

“You’re wasting your time,” Your mother said, her grip rather strong on your arm. “My daughter is not capable of making her own decisions.”

“How old is your daughter?” Ryel asked.

“She’s nineteen,” Your mother replied. “But I’m afraid she’s a bit slow. Trying to teach her wouldn’t benefit either of you.”

You frowned, upset. That wasn’t true, you weren’t slow. In fact, you thought you learned rather quickly, you’d just hadn’t had the chance to learn very many new things.

“Be that as it may,” Ryel replied, her voice still even. “Your daughter is an adult and has the right to choose what she wants.”

“Nonsense,” Your mother said. “Besides, even if I allowed this, I don’t want her anywhere near him.” She jerked her chin toward Birch.

Birch bristled. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“I know what kind of man you are,” She hissed. “How many lovers you’ve had in just this town alone? How many broken hearts have you left in your wake? I know you have ulterior motives for wanting to take her from here, and I won’t stand for it. She’s simpleminded and vulnerable, and I won’t let you dishonor her and return her to me used and broken.”

“Stop talking like she can’t hear every vile thing you say about her!” Birch shouted, slamming his fist into the table, making you jump. “I would never do something so shameful! You don’t know anything about me! ”

“Son, calm down,” Ryel said, putting her hand on his. “My son is a grown man of twenty-eight and has desires, true, but I’ve been to this town quite often and I haven’t found any such string of broken hearts, as you call it. Many sighing and wistful girls who long for his company, sure, but not one of them has come to me with tears in her eyes claiming he lied or misled her. He’s open and forthright about his intentions, and I respect his decisions. You should do the same for your child.”

“Don’t talk to me about my child if you can’t even control your own,” Your mother said venomously. “Hazel, let’s go.”

She tried to lead you away, but you refused to move. There were hurt and anxious tears in your eyes and you couldn’t look at anyone, but you refused to let her pull you away.

“Hazel!” She gripped your arm and yanked you painfully, and you wrenched your arm from her grasp, shaking your head.

“It seems like she’s made her choice,” Ryel said. “The least you can do as her mother is respect her wishes.”

“Be quiet!” Your mother said. “Leave us alone!” She grabbed your hands and started to pull you back to the kitchen. Birch got to his feet.

“Let her go,” He said, his voice a low growl, knocking her hands away from you. He stood between you and your mother. You dared to reach out and place a hand on the fur of his back to steady yourself.

“What’s going on here?” The bartender, Brian, asked. He also owned the tavern and knew about your condition. He didn’t speak to you much, but he also didn’t tease you either. You could handle understanding silence a lot better than persistent expectation to interact. “Are you alright, Hazel?”

You were shaking and crying, so you could only shake your head.

“These people won’t leave us alone,” You mother said. “I’d like them to leave.”

“Now, Rita, these people are good customers and friends of mine. I’m going to need more of a reason than ‘they’re bothering me’ to kick them out.”

“We simply offered young Hazel here a job on the farm,” Ryel said patiently. “I’m afraid her mother is interfering with her decision.”

“Is that true, Hazel?” Brian asked. “Would you like to take up this job?”

Trembling, you nodded.

“Well, then, that settles it, doesn’t it?” Brian said. “These are good folks, Hazel, they’ll take care of you.”

“Like hell they will,” You mother retorted. “She can’t make decisions like this. She doesn't understand.”

Brian sighed. “Rita, your girl’s not stupid, and it’s high time you stopped treating her like she is.”

Your mother looked like she’d been slapped in the face. You looked up at Brian in shock. He smiled kindly at you.

“Why don’t you go up and pack your things while your mother and I have a little chat, eh, dear?” He said.

You attempted to smile at him, though you worried it looked a little like you had indigestion, and went to pack. You took a few minutes to sit on the bed and breathe, clutching your chest, feeling a panic attack poking at your brain. You couldn’t believe it. You were really leaving.

There was a knock on your door and Ryel poked her head in.

“Are you alright, dear? That was quite the fuss,” She said.

You dried your face and nodded, getting up to start putting clothes in a bag.

“I sent Birch outside. He was getting rather angry, and I didn’t want him smashing any of Brian’s furniture.”

You looked out the window. Birch was standing in the courtyard with his arms crossed, stamping the ground and stepping constantly, as if he couldn’t stand still. His brow was furrowed, his jaw was working, and his tail was swishing back and forth without stopping.

“He’s worried for you, dear,” She said, following your gaze. “One thing our entire family has in common is that we don’t like seeing people mistreated. You’re mother may have her reasons for acting as she does, and perhaps it is out of some misplaced notion of love, but there’s no doubt in my mind at all that she mistreats you. You can’t help the way you are, and no amount of her cruel words are going to fix that. In fact, I’m more than certain it makes it worse.”

You sighed sadly in agreement. As you stood there, Birch looked up at your window. He smiled, a little sadder than before, and waved up at you. This time, you raised a hand and waved back.

The door opened and your mother walked in, glaring at Ryel.

“I’d like to speak to my daughter alone, if you please,” She said, her voice low and hostile.

Ryel looked at you questioningly, and you nodded. “I’ll be right outside if you need me,” She said, and walked out, closing the door behind her.

Your mother just stared at you with her arms crossed, shaking her head slightly. You looked down and away.

“I guess I should just be glad you won’t be around to humiliate me anymore,” She said, and you shrunk in on yourself. “I don’t like this at all, but it seems I have no say in the matter. You made sure of that, didn’t you?”

You knew she was hurt and was lashing out. She wasn’t exactly sweet and caring on her best days, but she could really cut a person to the quick when she was upset.

“Don’t you have anything to say?” She asked you, and you could hear tears in her voice. “Nothing at all? You can’t muster the courage to apologize to me for that display downstairs? For leaving me without a thought to my feelings? I’ve spent the last seven years protecting you and providing for you after your useless father threw us out, and you do this to me? And you have nothing to say?”

You didn’t say anything. Instead, you walked up to her and put your arms around her waist and lay your head on her shoulder.

“I’ll miss you, Mama,” You said softly.

She started to sob and put her arms around your shoulders. It had been years since she’d last hugged you.

“You’d better start sending me letters as soon as you learn how to,” She said, her voice breaking. “If I don’t hear something from you in a few months, I’m going out there to drag you back, you understand me?”

“Yes, Mama,” You whispered, and took a step back. Picking up your bag, you opened the door and walked out. Ryel was waiting and smiled when she saw you.

“Ready?” She asked.

You nodded.

Back outside, Birch was waiting. He stopped shifting around anxiously when he saw you and his mother exit the tavern.

“Everything okay?” He asked.

“Everything’s just fine,” Ryel said. “We’re ready to go.”

“Would you like to ride on my back?” Birch asked, turning.

You shook your head fervently, mortified.

“Are you sure?” He said. “It’s a long walk back to the farm, over four hours. I can get us there in half the time.”

“She’s feeling shy,” Ryel said. “For centaurs, letting people ride on their back is a special privilege afforded to few. I’ll ride with you.” She grinned at him. “He always makes an exception for his mother.”

He grinned at her in return. “You just assume I do.” But he took out a quilted riding blanket that was rolled up and tied to the bottom of his pack and handed it to her, and she set it on his back. Climbing the steps to the tavern, she vaulted onto his back. She instructed you to do the same. Blushing furiously, with both Ryel and Birch’s help, you were able to scramble on in front of her.

“Let’s go,” He said, and he took off at a trot out of town.

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I’ll Fight For You

a/n: lmao i swear i’m fine, just needed good ol’ kiri to assist me in a v self-indulgent fic. also, sorry for taking forever to write something yoinks

notes: did i read through this after i wrote it? nope. we’re fucking rolling with the audacity of not even a single ounce of beta-ing. requests are open :) find my masterlist here

pairing: kirishima eijirou x fem!reader | genre: angst (w/happy ending) / hurt/comfort | warnings: abusive mother (mental/verbal), a father who doesn’t intervene | word count: 2,018

Your boyfriend was practically vibrating with nerves as he adjusted his hair in the mirror. It was artfully piled on top of his head, his dark roots making a sharp contrast against the vibrant red.

“Ei,” you smiled, “you’re gonna be fine.”

He worried his sharp teeth against his bottom lip, frowning all the while. “But what if they--?”

“They’re going to love you, Ei. Probably even more than they love me,” you joke, coming up behind Eijirou’s monstrously large form. Hero work had been both kind and harsh on him but he made it look effortlessly good. You gently slid your arms around his waist as you angled yourself so that you could still eye his reflection.

“I’m just… worried, is all.”

You cock your eyebrow. “About what, Ei?”

He incredulously meets your gaze through the mirror. “What do you mean, about what?!”

It dawns on you a little bit. “Oh, well, she’s not going to be mean to you, Ei. She knows how to play nice when it counts. And you, good sir, count.”

“That’s not as reassuring as it is worrying, you know.”

“My mother is just a little intense, babe, it’s nothing I’m not used to. Like I said, she knows how to tone it down in front of others. I’m sure tonight will be fine. I probably just exaggerate everytime I whine about her, so she’s probably not even half as bad as I make her sound,” you shrug, leaning more into Eijirou’s side.

“Baby,” he sighs, twisting a little to look directly at you, no mirror this time. His eyes are sad yet firm as if wishing you to understand that there’s no need to defend yourself with him.

You squeeze him tighter before letting go and walking to the door. “C’mon, we’ll be late if we don’t leave now.”

❁

You always forget that you don’t really ever exaggerate your mother’s behavior towards you until you’re around her again. Everything as far as introducing your boyfriend to your parents has been going incredibly smoothly. Your dad enthusiastically engaged Eijirou in hero stories, talking about Red Riot’s  most recent media appearance where he was dressed in pajamas and carrying tubs of various ice creams you both had wanted to try when he dropped everything to prevent a construction beam from falling on clueless bystanders. Only one tub of ice cream had survived and luck had it that it was your least favorite flavor combination. Your mother praised Eijirou for his success and his coupling good looks at which she winked, making your boyfriend flush both at the phrase and the uncomfortable comments your mother directed at him. You winced at that, having forgotten to prepare him for the habitual talent your mother had of sexualizing anything, especially if it would ‘embarrass’ her child.

Your mother had made off handed comments throughout the whole night that you seemed to be the only one to pick up on. Your dad might have noticed a few but, as usual, he only looked at you apologetically, never interrupting his wife to stand up for you.

As much as you loved both of your parents and as much as they had their good moments, this fucking sucked.

“--not that she’s any good with that quirk of hers, of course,” your mother snickered as she brought the glass to her lips. You had become a good actor over the years in order to avoid your mother’s bullying over your ‘sensitiveness’, but something about her dismissing your hard work always immediately dismantled whatever mask you had thrown on. To cover what you know must be a crestfallen look, you give a laugh, something that could be called half-hearted at best. Your eyes remained trained on your food. “Oh come on, Y/n, that was funny.”

You chuckled again, hoping to force some genuineness into it. “Yeah--”

“No, it wasn’t,” Eijirou immediately cuts you off, voice straining with anger. You felt your face drain of blood as you noticed how tightly he was gripping his chopsticks. He was fuming. You don’t think you’d ever seen him angry before. The thought scared you. “That was just mean.”

Your mother quirked an unimpressed, subtly pissed brow at your boyfriend. “Don’t be sensitive, Eijirou. House rules: if it’s mean but funny, it’s okay.”

“As long as you get a laugh from it, it’s okay to abuse your child?” He spits at her like venom.

Your mother sets her glass down, eyes narrowing. “Excuse me?”

“You heard--”

You slap a hand over Eijirou’s bicep, squeezing so hard you wouldn’t be surprised if he ended up bruising. “It’s fine! Nothing I’m used to! I grew up on the ‘if it’s mean but funny’ rule, so it’s fine.”

The look he gave you was of incredulous anger. “No, it is not--!”

“Please, Ei. Please, just--,” you averted your eyes, ashamed of your own familiar defeat. “Just sit.”

Shamefully, you slide back into your seat, nervously smoothing out a napkin back onto your lap. Eijirou still stood beside you, staring daggers at your mother who effortlessly returned it. His fists were balled, the veins in his hands flexing with the effort of restraining himself. His jaw snapped shut with an audible clamp as he resolved himself to sitting back down.

Your dad clears his throat, more so than necessary as if the harder he did it, the better he could dissipate the tension. “Done, everyone?” No one answers him. He takes that as the go ahead to begin clearing dishes, desperately jumping at the opportunity to escape your mother’s impending tantrum. You loved your dad very much but, god, he was nothing if not a coward, always leaving you to fight your own battles. You don’t think you’ve ever won.

Your mother returns her cold attention to you, the ice starting to thicken and your mother’s hollow kindness starting to retreat along with her patience. “What are you even doing to help train your quirk, sweetie?”

Taken aback, you met her gaze. “W-what do you mean?”

“I mean, I don’t ever see you doing anything at all to help. You do realize that training takes work, right? What does it take? It takes--,” your mother trailed off, flourishing both hands to motion for you to finish the sentence.

“Effort--”

“Effort!” She clapped with your word. “It takes effort! And I only want the best for you, sweetheart, which is why I’m just asking what you’re doing. From where I stand, it doesn’t look like you’re doing anything at all to help improve yourself! As your mother, your concerned mother, I’m just looking out for you, sweetheart.”

Your mind is reeling at her words. You so badly want to defend yourself, assert all of the effort that you have painstakingly put in-- but you are reminded of the precise way your mother is able to leech any ounce of power or confidence from you. You would think that was her quirk if you didn’t know any better. “Mom, I am putting effort in, I train almost everyday--”

“Do you really?” Her voice drips with venomous shock. “It certainly doesn’t look like you do,” she gestures vaguely at you, eyeing your body with a vulture’s gaze. “Maybe you should consider morning and night. Oh! And a diet change, too. You know, since the popular heroes have a specific look to them and I just want to make sure that you can fit that. Since it’s your dream to be a popular hero. Like I said, you have to be willing to put in the effort. Oh, sweetie, don’t look at me like that. You know the difficult position I’m in! Trying to encourage you and help you achieve your dreams while not seeming too enthusiastic. You’re putting that stress on me, sweetie, I’m only trying to help.”

It really was incredible how quickly your mother could erase any confidence you had. Normally, you would stand beaming, more than happy to assert yourself and stand up for yourself and others. All it took was a couple words from your mother, and you turned into a dog with its head down and its tail between its legs, fearful of its master.

Your gut sank and hatred swirled throughout your body for both yourself and her as you once again let her have power over you. “You’re right. Sorry, Mom--”

“Do you know where your daughter ranks as a hero?”

Stunned, you both glanced at Eijirou, having almost completely forgotten that he was there. Throughout her tirade, you had felt a tragically familiar loneliness, used to having to defend yourself when no one, not even your other family members, would. Used to always submitting and used to the shame that always accompanied your forced silence.

“What?” She spat.

“I asked if you knew your daughter’s ranking. I just was wondering, is all. It would make sense if you weren’t aware that she ranks in the top 30 since you were asking about the effort she puts in. I would think that that accomplishment -- at such a young age, too, might I add -- was evidence enough of the countless hours, blood, sweat, and tears that she has poured into this. The effort she’s painstakingly put in. You’re right that being a hero is her dream, and she’s a damn good one, too. Saved my life more than once with ‘that quirk of hers’,” he sneered bitterly. “And, on top of that, she’s so beautiful through and through that sometimes it’s all I can do to stare at her in awe. Your thinly veiled shaming of her appearance is never the result of a mother’s so-called difficult situation, only the result of your own insecurities.”

Eijirou suddenly stands, having finally had more than enough for one night. “The only gratitude I will ever have towards you is for bringing this wonderful woman into this world. I hope one day you’ll actually realize how amazing your daughter is and how proud of her you ought to be. Because I am. I am so incredibly proud of her and her accomplishments and the results of her efforts.”

“And who’s to say that I’m not proud of her, Eijirou?”

He scoffs. Eijirou, the kindest, most patient man you know, scoffs in your mother’s face. “Haven’t you ever heard that actions speak louder than words?”

Your mother gapes up at him, opening and closing her mouth like a fish. In that moment, she resembles a fish and you couldn’t be more pleased with that comparison.

“He’s right, mom.” You rise to join him. “I know you love me. I have no choice but to believe it because I think it would destroy me if I didn’t. But maybe someday I won’t constantly have to defend myself to you and you’ll accept the things I say without dismissing them. You always say you admire me most for my assertiveness but you shut me down anytime I use it to stand up for myself against you. And that makes you nothing but a hypocrite.” You stare her down, reveling in the confidence Eijirou gives you in this thing against your mother. For the first time, you are not alone as you fight this battle. For the first time, you have help. And for the first time, you feel like you’ve won. “Now if you’ll excuse us.”

You take Eijirou’s hand and lead him out of the house, leaving your parents to stare after you in shock. As soon as you make it out, cold air hits you like a slap in the face that harshly wakes you from a daze.

“Holy shit, Ei, did I just stand up to my mom?”

He laughs and squeezes your hand. “It was pretty manly, too.” You laugh breathlessly, still in disbelief as you push your other fist against his arm. “And you know,” he continues, “that I’m the best judge of that.”

“That must mean a lot,” you grin, swinging your linked hands between you as you walk further from your parents’ home, feeling the fullness of a good meal and a battle won.

taglist: @samwrights, @mayaoliviee, @luluwiie​, @gigglyparker​ (i thought i would tag you since you commented on the draft that i posted of this, hope you don’t mind <3)

[deepdarkdelights]

10 Days (Jungkook x Reader)(10 Seconds Pt 2)

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Word Count: 7.9k

Warnings: Yandere, Stalking, Obsession, Non-Consensual touching (This becomes intense, if this is triggering for you please do not read), Kidnapping, Hard Manipulation, Mentions of past abuse/torture, Brainwashing, Blood

I do not condone the acts displayed in this story nor do I believe any members of BTS would actually engage in this type of behavior. This is simply written for entertainment purposes and should not be taken as a reflection of my own values, opinions, or morals. 

Preview: There he was, the monster that you knew had been hiding behind that sweet face. Jungkook had several personas, the domineering kidnapper, the dotting boyfriend, and the whiny child. This was the one you had been waiting to see, the one that had violently slammed your head into the hood of your car that night. The one that had drugged you and zip tied you in the back of his car. He was always there, just sitting beneath the surface waiting to come and get you.

Read Part One Here Read Part Three Here 

You had never felt more hopeless in your entire life. It felt like your energy had been completely drained from your body. His parents still stood by the door, talking amicably with their son. His mother practically had stars in her eyes as she was nestled close into her husband’s hold. Nothing scared you more than the thought of being in her place one day. Chills of disgust rolled down your spine as you imagined yourself and Jungkook together like that. His arm curled around your shoulder as you came home to your son, hanging for dear life onto a terrified girl, her eyes wide and brimming with tears begging for help. Is that what your life would be like? Would you too fall victim to your captor like she had? Would the cycle continue and for how long had it been happening in Jungkook’s family?

Your heart thudded in your chest as your eyes zeroed in on the door behind his parents. Could you make a run for it? Could you get away from him if you tried now? Or would that be your death sentence? You were undoubtedly outnumbered, but his parents were on the older side and it would be much harder for them to run after you. It was just Jungkook you had to worry about, his mother seemed harmless and his father was too caught up in his wife. Maybe you could do it, when would you ever find a chance like this again? They hadn’t even locked the door! 

Your grip on Jungkook’s shirt began to loosen as your gaze was pinned to the door that was lightly swinging open with the breeze. You could do it.

“(Y/N).” Never mind, you couldn’t do it. 

“Baby, I need you to listen to me. I know you’re anxious right now but I need you to be a good girl, okay?” Jungkook asked, turning around to cradle your face. 

You nodded your head in compliance as his hand slipped away from your face to cradle your own. He tangled your fingers together and slowly led you over to his parents. His mother had a huge grin on her face and she seemed genuinely excited, vibrating with joy as you approached. Jungkook nudged you in front of him and rested his hands on your shoulders, his grip tense like he was warning you to behave. His father fixed you with a stern look, your body shuddering at the familiarity. He was so much like his son that it was scary. It really did seem like there wasn’t a way out of this and your heart shattered at the thought. You were going to be stuck with a family of people who were deluded, they actually believed that this was okay. 

“Hello dear, it’s so nice to meet you.” She said with her best attempt at a comforting smile. It was strange to think she had once been in your place when she seemed so satisfied with her life. Fuck, she had even given birth to her kidnappers son. Would that be expected of you? Were you supposed to help continue this sick cycle? At the rate that things were going, you weren’t sure how long you could hold Jungkook off. He was clingy and becoming more handsy the longer you two spent together. Carrying his child may become a reality faster than you had anticipated.

You felt Jungkook’s fingers tense as he dug into your shoulders a little harder, you still hadn’t answered his mother.

“It’s-It’s nice to meet you.” You choked out with a smile that looked more like a grimace. You were not convincing whatsoever and that was reflected in the harsh stare of her husband.

Your heart continued to pound violently in your chest, what were you supposed to do? It felt like the walls in the room were slowly closing in on you. Once again, you were reminded that there was no escape. You were like a songbird trapped in a gilded cage and you desperately wanted to stretch your wings and break free from your prison. You could feel the panic attack coming, this hadn’t been the first one since Jungkook had taken you and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. Your chest was tightening and it was becoming difficult to breathe as your heart hammered harder than before. There were a million thoughts racing in your head all at once as crisp tears began to roll down your cheeks. You clasped your hands together in an attempt to stop their trembling as your gaze zeroed in on the creaking hinges of the screen door. You were losing it. It became harder to keep a grip on reality as you felt the wave of anxiety come crashing down over you.

“Are you alright, sweetie?” Mrs. Jeon asked, her voice brimming with worry as she approached you. She gently grabbed your hands and pulled you away from her son who whined in irritation. Her dainty hands carefully smoothed your hair back as she tried to meet your gaze.

Of course you weren’t fucking alright. Any sane person would be able to see that from a mile away. You had been locked up for only God knows how long with one person who could change moods so fast it would give you whiplash. Her caring question only made everything worse, you were expected to say that everything was okay, that you were happy with her son and delighted to meet his parents. You were supposed to be the dotting girlfriend when you were so obviously the distraught victim.

How could someone with such a gentle, caring, motherly touch horrify you so much?

With a choked sob you pushed her off of you and made a sprint for the door. Within seconds you were flying through the door frame, your bare feet slapping against the wood of the porch and flying through the stretch of grass that spread over the empty field surrounding the house. It was windy and the sky was clear, the pale moonlight shining down on you as you desperately ran. You could hear Jungkook behind you screaming your name. His voice was a blend between being distraught and riddled with anger.

If he caught you, would he kill you?

His footsteps were loud and fast, he was sprinting as hard as he could to catch up with you but you were far too desperate to let him catch you so easily and so quickly. Before you knew it, you were in the forest. The trees were tall and thick, covered in moss. You weren’t thinking at this point, in fact you were just blindly running hoping to God that just maybe you would be able to out maneuver him.

You had never really tried to escape Jungkook, well you had never been able to actually try. Hell, this was the first time you were even near the front door. You couldn’t let him catch you as you would never find another chance to run away from him again. Not to mention, moments before his parents had entered the lake house, he had warned you that he was not above punishing you. You didn’t want to even think about what his punishments would entail for you.

Your legs were burning under the strain of running. After being bed bound for most of your time with your captor, you had barely done anything that was remotely as active as this. You were sure your feet were bleeding, they felt numb and slippery. The adrenaline pumping through your veins masked your pain as you pushed yourself harder. It was dark and hard to see, numerous branches had already snagged your clothing and whacked you. You really were at a disadvantage, weren’t you?

At this point, you had no doubt Jungkook would catch you. He was stronger and faster than you, you were completely outmatched in terms of endurance. You pumped your legs faster and harder, running down a slope of rocks and leaves that almost sent you tumbling. With a wheeze, you whipped around another tree and crouched down behind it and the large rocks that surrounded it. If you couldn’t outrun him, maybe you could hide from him.

You heard him come to a halt moments later as he heard your steps cease. You quickly slapped a hand over your mouth in an attempt to stifle your deep panting breaths. You could make out his head and shoulders from where you hid, he was spinning on his heels as he scanned the area around him. It was dark as the trees covered the light of the moon. Hopefully, this would make it harder for him to find you.

“(Y/N)?!” He called, his chest rising and falling rapidly with quick breaths. “Baby, I’m not playing around. You better come out right now if you know what’s good for you.”

He was fuming, it was so obvious. You could vaguely make out his tense jaw and the bulging veins in his neck. His head continued to swivel from side to side as he tried to find you in the dark.

“If you come out right now, your punishment won’t be that bad.” He spoke again, pacing back and forth as he continued to search for you. “You really disappointed me, I thought you were my good girl again. I’ve been so good to you but you keep testing me.”

You squeezed your eyes shut as panicked tears sprung forth. For someone who claimed to be in love with you, he was so good at making you cry. Your nails dug into the bark of the tree as you pressed your forehead to its trunk. He was going to find you, you never stood a chance.

“First, you take my affection for granted. Then, you question my love for you and accuse me of mistreating you. And then you throw my mother away from you like trash. We were doing so well but you just had to stop behaving.” He said with a distressed sigh as his footsteps grew nearer. Your body stilled like a deer in headlights, this was so familiar. And all at once, you were taken back to that night.

His light footsteps, the darkness, and the fear.

“All I want is to love you and take care of you, but you don’t see it that way do you?” He questioned, his voice became louder and closer. “I told you before, baby. You and I were meant to be together, from the moment I saw you I knew you were mine.”

His words were beginning to sound fuzzy as your ears rang. You had worked yourself up so much it seemed like even your own body couldn’t take it anymore. You felt sick and lethargic, and you knew it would only be a matter of seconds before he found you. Because no matter what, he would always find you.

A pair of hands latched onto your shoulders and yanked you out of your hiding spot. Game over. Jungkook turned you around violently and pinned you to the tree trunk. His eyes were so dark you couldn’t discern his iris from his pupil. He was good at making you cry, and you were good at pissing him off.

“What the fuck were you thinking?!” He yelled, shaking you by the shoulders. “I let go of you for ten seconds and you run away?!”

Your eyes snapped shut as he screamed as you, his grip tight and bruising.

“Open your eyes, right now.” He growled, his voice low and stern. “Look at me when I’m talking to you.” He continued.

Out of fear, you opened them and met his dark gaze with your own. His jaw was clenched tight as he looked at you, he was doing his very best to show you how displeased he was. It was still jarring how easy it was for him to slip between the roles of a love sick puppy and an enraged kidnapper.

“We are going home,” He said, his voice steady and deep. “You are going to apologize to my mother and father for your behavior and wait in your room for me. You are not eating tonight, not after the way you acted. Am I clear?”

You nodded so fast it looked like your head would snap right off of your neck.

“I said, am I clear?” He repeated, staring down at you.

“Yes.” You replied, your voice soft with fear but loud enough for him not to ask you to repeat yourself.

He released a soft sigh as a barely there smile graced his lips. He loved your compliance.

“You know I don’t like scaring you, baby.” He cooed, the anger slowly dissipating as he pulled you into his embrace. “But I have to when you act like this, and you know I’m going to have to punish you.”

And with that, the dam broke. Ugly sobs broke free from your chest as the tears came flooding back. You were such a mess, such a crybaby that couldn’t do anything right. You could only hope that your tears would save you from whatever pain he had in store for you.

“Jungkook, please!” You sobbed. “I was - I was scared!”

“I know baby, I know.” He hummed, smoothing your hair as he cradled you to his chest. He lowered his palms to your thighs and scooped you up, carrying you much like a parent would an infant.

“You had a stressful day, didn’t you? But still, I’m really mad at you babygirl and crying won’t solve anything.” He said, he sounded like a parent scolding their child. And much like a child, you clung to him as you wailed. In response he softly hushed you, rubbing your back as he began the walk back to the lake house.

“I’m sorry!” You croaked, burying your face in the juncture of his shoulder and neck as your tears stained his hoodie. And you were sorry, because now there was the high probability he would hurt you for your actions. Maybe if you had waited then you could have found a better way to escape him without getting hurt. But you were panicked, your body thinking for you instead of your brain.

“Such a good little girl,” He sighed, rubbing circles into your back. “Apologizing without me having to tell you. If you keep being my good girl, then we won’t have to fight anymore.”

You nodded your head rapidly, spurring light laughs from his throat. If behaving bought you time and saved your life, then you would do it. Just until you could find a way out of this, if there was a way out of this.

“Are you - are you gonna hurt me?” You sniffled, your eyes clenched shut as you hid yourself from his gaze.

“Baby, I promised you I would never hurt you again. That night…that was a one time thing. You know that, right? You know I would never hurt you?” He asked, his voice worried at the prospect that you thought he would hurt you again.

Your silence was enough of an answer.

“Oh no, my poor baby.” He gasped, squeezing you tighter to him. “So that’s why you’ve been acting this way, huh? I was too rough with you, you must still be so confused. I haven’t been very attentive, have I? Don’t worry, sweet girl. We’ll sort this out tonight.”

For the rest of the journey back there was a heavy silence between the two of you. It was accompanied by Jungkook’s soft touches and light kisses in the dark. Your little stunt seemed to only make him more affectionate than he was before, had he deluded himself into thinking this was all his fault? That he hadn’t given you enough attention and that was why you ran from him? Of course, in his mind you would never leave because you didn’t want him. Only because you didn’t have enough of him. The more time you spent with Jungkook, the more you realized how unstable he was. You were never sure what he was thinking, and that was scary. Never knowing what someone was going to do, that uncertainty was fear inducing.

It wasn’t long before the two of you had returned to the porch of the house, the door was still open but the screen door was shut allowing you to see into the hallway that led to the kitchen. You could make out the back of Jungkook’s father and the sweet voice of his mother, singing while the clanking of pots and pans followed. If this were under different circumstances, you would find it sweet.

Jungkook still held you, his chest pressed tightly to your own. His large hands cradled the back of your thighs, you could feel his thumbs lightly swiping the expanse of flesh. He dropped his head into the crook of your neck and took a deep breath before planting a soft kiss to the smooth column of your throat. It took everything in you to hold back the shudder that wanted to shake your body.

“You remember what I asked you to do for me babygirl?” He murmured, pulling back to look you in your eyes. The anger that had previously clouded them was no longer there, his soft gaze had returned once more. You gave him a quick nod and he smiled, carrying you back into your prison. His steps echoed down the hallway causing the singing to cease and his father to turn in his chair. Once more, he fixed you with that stern look that scared you shitless. Although this time it was far more intense and utterly annoyed.

“Go ahead.” Jungkook whispered, his breath ghosting over the shell of your ear. Already, this was completely humiliating. Not only did you have to apologize for trying to escape your kidnapper, but you had to do it while he cradled you like a child.

With your eyes trained to the floor, you began. “I’m sorry for all the trouble I caused. It won’t happen again.”

Mrs. Jeon smiled again, her hands clasped together as she cooed at the sight of her son holding his “girlfriend” as she liked to say. “It’s alright sweetie, trust me, I’ve been there.” she giggled.

Her words were meant to comfort you, instead they deeply disturbed you. The way she so casually referred to her kidnapping was disgusting. She talked about it like it was something normal that everyone went through, like it wasn’t a horrific crime. She was brainwashed, so many years of being with her captor had turned her into a compliant doll. She was everything you feared and everything you desperately hoped to avoid. But once she was like you. How many times had she tried to run before she realized it was impossible to get away from him. How many nights had she spent crying over the life she had lost, missing her parents, her friends, and her family? When did she realize that her life was over? There was no saving her, and soon there would be no saving you.

“(Y/N),” Mr. Jeon spoke, his voice threatening. “Don’t do it again.”

You could tell that his words had a double meaning: Don’t run away again and don’t touch my wife like that again. You gave him a swift nod as your grip on Jungkook tightened. At that moment, he was the most familiar thing to you. And you could tell he was enjoying it.

“Son, we need to have a talk.” He continued, fixing his stern gaze onto Jungkook who stiffened in response.

With that, Jungkook swiftly turned and began to carry you away from the kitchen. He moved quickly as he squeezed you to him tighter than before. He seemed nervous, like he knew what his father wanted to talk about. You had never seen Jungkook look nervous. Angry, distressed, remorseful, but never nervous. He threw the door to your bedroom open and gently set you down on your frilly comforter. His hands came up to cradle your face once more before he leaned down and softly pecked your lips, a soft sigh breaking free from his chest.

“I need you to stay right here, okay? I’ll be back soon, we have some things to discuss.” He reminded you, pressing another soft kiss to your lips before standing and exiting your room, the door shutting behind him and the lock twisting shut.

Your heart hammered in your chest, what did his father want to talk to him about? What would Jungkook discuss with you? How bad was your “punishment” going to be? There were so many unknowns spinning around in your head. You really were a mess, weren’t you? You had always thought that you could take care of yourself, and your kidnapping had proven that to be false. You had devolved into this different person you didn’t know. Before, you never cried as much as you did now. Before, you didn’t cower in anyone’s presence. In such a small amount of time, you had already become a shadow of your former self. At the rate you were going, it wouldn’t be long until you were empty and broken.

You were jolted from your thoughts when the screaming started. It was Jungkook’s voice, deeper and louder than you had ever heard it before. You couldn’t make out exactly what he was saying, but whatever his father wanted to tell him had set him off. You shuffled back into the bad, wrapping the comforter around you to provide you some feeling of safety. An angry Jungkook is an unpredictable Jungkook. The low, sweet voice of his mother was trying to cool him down but that was far from working. You could hear him snap at her, Mr. Jeon’s voice rising over all of them in a clear and loud yell. Silence followed. Whatever they were talking about, it wasn’t good.

A loud crash shattered the silence that had heavily hung in the still air. Your body jumped in response and tensed in preparation for more noise to follow, but there was none. A beat of silence passed before you heard the tell tale steps of Jungkook’s boots stomping down the hallway. In seconds the door to your bedroom was flung open and slammed shut behind him so hard the frame shook.

Jungkook’s body was shaking in rage as he paced the open space at the foot of the bed. He was so caught up in his anger it seemed like he didn’t even notice you were there anymore. That was of course, until he did. His head snapped up and his stare met yours, without a word he cleared the footboard of the bed and pinned you to the mattress. On impact, your eyes snapped shut. His hands gripped your thighs and yanked you closer to him, forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist as he buried his face in your shoulder. He was softly mumbling to himself as he nuzzled the fabric of your sweatshirt, the lightest of tears staining your top. He was crying?

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He choked out, his body shaking as he held you close to him. “Just because Dad did it that way doesn’t mean I have to.”

You were frozen beneath him, unsure of what to do. Jungkook was clinging to you like a toddler to their parent, babbling nonsense as he tried his hardest to stop crying. Each time you thought you knew him, he proved you wrong. Jungkook chose several personas in your presence, the domineering kidnapper, the dotting boyfriend, and the whiny child. You were scared of him because you could never tell which version of him you were going to get.

“He said I might be wrong, that maybe you aren’t mine. But he’s wrong, I know it! We’re meant for each other, I love you and no one can take you away from me. Not even him. He told me I need to be harsher with you, I need to hurt you so you understand.”

So that was how he did it. Jungkook’s father trained his mother with pain. He hurt her and would only stop in exchange for her obedience. No wonder she seemed so compliant, so in love with him. He had trained her like a dog, she associated him with pain and love simultaneously.

Jungkook pulled back from you, resting his weight on his forearms to take in your face. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes were red from crying. He really did look pitiful, if anything he looked like you since you spent most of your captivity in anxiety and bouts of intense crying. He slowly raised his hand to your face and lightly stroked the flesh of your cheek. If you didn’t know any better, he would look like a man that was in love with you. But you did know better, he was just a boy in a man’s body who had been raised to think this was normal. And for a moment, you genuinely felt bad for him. For a moment, you thought you understood him.

“I won’t have to hurt you if you listen to me. I still have to punish you, but if you’re good then I don’t have to hurt you.” He whispered, sniffing sharply as he leaned back to wipe the tears from his face.

Your legs were still tensed around his waist as he dragged you up to his chest, pressing the two of you so close together that you could feel his heart beating. He scooted backwards off the bed and carried you back to the bathroom. This was beginning to feel like your first day with him all over again. He set you gently onto the counter and pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead before kneeling down on the cold tile. His fingers delicately lifted your right foot to allow him to inspect the damage you had inflicted. His face contorted with wince as he looked at your foot, silently lifting the other one to inspect it as well.

“I hate seeing you like this, in pain.” He sighed, his fingers gently stroking the delicate bones of your ankle as he looked up at you from in between your legs. Your face flushed at the sight causing you to tilt your head back against the mirror behind you. Anything was better than the position you were in right now. Jungkook cooed at the light blush that dusted your cheeks as he began to work on the wounds that littered the once smooth skin of your feet, always stopping when you would flinch or cry out from the pain. Sometimes, he could be considerate. But you didn’t want to think positively of him and you most definitely didn’t want to feel sorry for him. You didn’t want to feel anything for him. You found yourself having to remember that he was a monster, even if it wasn’t his fault he was still a monster.

A soft kiss pressed to the inside of your ankle forced you to look at him once more, a sweet smile graced his lips. The one that made him look like an innocent bunny.

“All done.” He smiled, rising up in between your legs to trap you to the counter. Jungkook always found a way to remind you of your inability to escape him, the amount of times he had pinned you today was outstanding and concerning. You really were fucked.

The sweet smile slowly slipped from his lips as his eyes flicked down to your lips. His eyes were dark again, half lidded in a daze as he looked at you. You weren’t stupid, you knew what he wanted. He swallowed harshly and leaned closer to you, cupping one side of your face as he softly stroked your bottom lip with his thumb. You could feel his hands trembling as he took in a shaky breath. He acted like you were a drug that he could never get enough of, each hit he got sending him into a deeper addiction that he craved. And God, did he want you. He wanted all of you, everything you had to offer, and more. He took another breath and leaned in, attempting to kiss you. You quickly turned your head away from him, his soft lips connecting with the smooth skin of your cheek. Instead of getting mad, he pressed another kiss to your cheek, the corner of your mouth, and gently peppered butterfly kisses to the curve of your jaw. In a panic, you jerked away from his touch only to press yourself tightly to the mirror behind you.

“I think,” He began, stopping to clear his throat. “I think I know what your punishment is going to be.”

Your heart jerked in response as his hands gripped the tops of your thighs. You had hoped maybe it wouldn’t come to this, that he had been bluffing this whole time. But if his father was so keen on punishment in his household, it only made sense he would want his son to follow in his footsteps. He had done it first, and he knew what “worked.”

“You can’t say no to me, baby. For ten days, you have to do what I want. Just for ten days.” He said, his tone gentle but you knew this wasn’t a request; it was a demand. You quickly shook your head from side to side, grasping his wrists and attempting to pull them off of you so that you could curl into yourself.

“Baby, baby! Listen to me!” He cried, catching your hands with his own while trying to meet your eyes. “You either do this for me, or I’ll have to hurt you. You know I don’t want to do that, but if I have to do it then I will. If my dad sees that you're non compliant, that you’re not being my good girl, he will try and get rid of you.”

You stilled at his words. So that’s why he had been crying so hard earlier. His father had given him an ultimatum. Jungkook had to hurt you if you misbehaved to “train” you, as his father had put it. If he didn’t see your compliance, then he would get rid of you. He would kill you for trying to free yourself.

“Jungkook…I can’t. I can’t do that. I just want to go home.” You replied, your voice weakening into a whimper as the tears rushed forth once more.

“I know this is hard for you baby, I know you need more time but I can’t keep waiting. Not with them here. Soon enough you’ll realize you are home, all you’ll need is me.” He whispered to you. And just like that all of your sympathy for him flew right out the window. At the end of the day, Jeon Jungkook was selfish. He took his father’s warning as a way to get what he wanted: you no longer being able to deny him. Jungkook is a monster, the perfect example of a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Those big, brown, doe eyes of his were concealing a dark force that was restless inside of him. That sweet smile of his hid the fangs and wrath harbored in him. He was something from your nightmares, hidden by a boyish face and a deceiving innocence. You never hated anyone as much as you hated Jeon Jungkook.

“Tonight counts as day one, you only have nine more days to go sweetheart.” He smiled, rubbing the tops of your thighs is what would have been a comforting manner if you didn’t detest his touch so much.

“Come on, you’re sleeping in my bed tonight.” He informed you, scooping your body up once more as to not have you walk on your injured feet. Not only did you have no choice but to listen to him, but now you had lost your mobility for the time being. Your teeth sunk into your lower lip, stopping yourself from snapping at him. Time had proven before that you could break, and if you broke this time it could have deadly consequences.

Would it be better to let yourself die? Would you rather live a life of captivity over the freedom that the dark embrace of death had to offer? No. You were many things, but unafraid of death was not one of them. If you were, then you would have forced Jungkook’s hand or his father’s a long time ago.

Jungkook set you down on the covers of his bed, rifling through his drawers to find something for you to wear to bed. He came back to you with a large white T-shirt in hand, something you had seen him wear many times. There was no doubt in your body that he was thrilled with this situation. Not only did he have you in his bed, but he would have you in his clothes. Jungkook sat down beside you once more, silently helping you out of your clothes. You still flinched from his touch, but tried your best not to say anything. The less you struggled, the faster you would be clothed and less vulnerable. To Jungkook’s credit, he tried his best not to openly ogle your semi naked form. His gaze still lingered, his eyes still looked you over, but he clothed you and that was that.

Once he had finished, he leaned back into the bed and kicked his boots off. He turned to look at you for another moment, taking in your body covered by his sheets. He swallowed harshly before turning away from you and opening the drawer of his nightstand. Once he faced you again you noticed the glinting metal in his hand. Handcuffs. Part of you shuddered at the thought that he kept those by his bed, the other part of you tried your best not to freak the fuck out.

“I can’t trust that you won’t try and leave while I’m sleeping.” He explained. “I don’t want to have to do this, but I need to.”

“I won’t leave.” Lie. “It’s going to be hard for me to sleep handcuffed to the bed, I learned my lesson. I won’t run.” You had tried your best to seem like you weren’t denying him, the word “no” had never passed your lips.

“It’s okay, I won’t cuff you to the headboard.” He answered, slapping the cuff to your right wrist and the other cuff to his as well. What the fuck. He leaned away from you to turn the lamp off, plunging the room into darkness. For a moment, you couldn’t see. But you could feel him. Jungkook peeled the sheets back and slid underneath them behind you, slinging his cuffed arm over your waist and pulling you back against his chest.

Motherfucker.

“Jungkook-”

“Go to sleep, baby.” He cut you off, tensing his arm in warning as he rested his chin on the top of your head. You barely slept that night.

You woke up by being blasted from the light filtering through the window. He had left the curtains open last night. And not to mention, you were extremely uncomfortable. You were hot as hell having Jungkook wrapped around you like a giant koala, your wrist was chaffed from the metal cuffs, you had a headache from the bright light, and something was pressing hard into your lower back. You huffed in annoyance, trying to shift away from the man behind you only to still when a groan shook his chest.

Oh. Something hard was pressed to your lower back.

You shivered in disgust, rolling awkwardly to unwind his arm from around you so that you could get away from his…situation.

A sharp knock on the door made you jump while simultaneously waking up your captor. “Jungkook? (Y/N)? I made breakfast! Come out before it’s cold!”

Jungkook groaned again, slinging his arm over his eyes at the sound of his mother’s voice. He took a deep breath before sitting up and retrieving the key to the cuffs, swiftly unlocking it and separating the two of you. You hastily stood up, putting as much distance between the two of you as you could. Jungkook still remained in his bed, eyeing you as he titled his head back. You felt shivers run down your spine from the look he was giving you. You had no doubt you knew exactly what he was thinking about.

“Jungkook!” Mrs. Jeon yelled again from the other side of the door, her swift knocks returning once more. Her impatience knew no bounds as she finally gave up and swung the door open. It was quite a sight to see, such a small woman looking so angry. Jungkook actually looked scared for a moment.

“Jungkook, I said breakfast is ready and getting cold! Don’t ignore your mother!” She scolded him, waving a spatula around as she yelled at him. This sight was just too normal, it was so strange to think that you were kidnapped. Never in a million years did you ever think you would see your captor’s mother yelling at him like he was still a child.

Jungkook sighed, trying his best not to lash out at his mother lest his father hear their exchange. “You waited all of ten seconds, mom.”

“That doesn’t matter! I shouldn’t have to wait!” She replied before taking a hold of your elbow and tugging you towards the hallway. “Now, are you coming or will you make your mother wait longer?”

“I’ll uh, I’ll be out in a few minutes.” He answered awkwardly.

“Fine, suit yourself.” She huffed before dragging you out of the bedroom and walking you in the direction of the kitchen. But not before you saw Jungkook mouth, “behave” with that stern look returning to his face. Right, it was day two.

“It’s time for some girl talk!” She beamed, ushering you into a seat where a plate of food awaited. “So, tell me. How did you and my son meet?”

She couldn’t be serious. This had to be some twisted joke, right? The look on her face spoke volumes, she was genuinely curious with a smile so similar to her sons spreading over her face. You wanted so badly to scream in her face that he fucking kidnapped you, that you barely knew him when the two of you were in the same classes. You took a deep breath in an attempt to calm yourself. No matter how badly you wanted to scream and cry, you couldn’t. The threat of Jungkook’s father was still near, if you didn’t behave he had no qualms about “getting rid” of you.

“Uh, we met in high school.” You answered, poking at your food and refusing to make eye contact with her.

“High school sweethearts! How cute, that’s just like me and my husband!” She gushed. She was just as deluded as the rest of them.

Your silence caused her lips to turn downward, the smile slipping off of her face. A look of understanding crossed over her eyes as she gently reached across the table to cradle your hand in her own.

“I understand how hard it is at first.” She said, your head snapped up to look at her. This was the first time she didn’t seem bubbly and in love. “I ran too, you know. It’s overwhelming, becoming a part of their world and learning that way they love. My husband was strict with me, but he had to be for the sake of our relationship.”

And just like that, your hope died again. She thought she was in love with him, that he did all he did because they were meant to be together. She was like you once, and she had lost the fight. Your eyes dropped to her hands that held your own. To your horror, you noticed the deep scars littering her wrists and palms. On the inside of her wrist was the most prominent scar, a large J carved into her skin. If her hands were that scarred, what was she hiding underneath her shirt and pants? Was her whole body subjected to the torture that her husband called love? He had conditioned her with pain, he had made her into what he wanted her to be.

“Baby?” Jungkook called, walking into the kitchen with a worried look on his face as he took in your stiff posture and disturbed expression. He came to your side immediately and settled his arm on the back of your chair, his eyes scanning over you to make sure you were okay.

“Are you feeling sick, sweetheart?” He asked, pressing his lips to your forehead making his mother smile at the display of affection.

You shook your head and stopped yourself from flinching away. After all, you couldn’t say no to him.

The days began to pass quicker after the incident with Jungkook’s mother. You had learned his parents would be staying in the guest house to give the two of you space while also keeping an eye on you. You could feel yourself spiraling in the aftermath of everything that had happened. The only thing that was keeping you from lashing out again was the hard glare Jungkook’s father constantly had trained on you. Not to mention, your compliance was the only thing preventing Jungkook from hurting you the same way his father had his mother.

Each day proved to be more straining than the day before. Jungkook would push for more from you, he would start with small things and gradually work his way up to what he really wanted. And it was exhausting. You never stood a chance against him. He was a monster that had disguised himself so skillfully that even you didn’t see what he was doing when this started.

Day 3: You weren’t allowed to sleep in “your” room anymore. His excuse was that his dad wouldn’t approve of leaving you alone. But you knew that was a lie, he just wanted to have you to himself for as long as he could. He took your privacy from you, the one thing you had been allowed to have.

Day 4: You spent the day together watching movies. You weren’t allowed to leave his hold the entire time. You weren’t allowed to deny his touch no matter how much you wanted to jump out of his arms and make a run for it for the second time. He held you the entire day and it felt so suffocating.

Day 5: You weren’t allowed to see his mom anymore. You were only allowed to talk to him, you could only spend time with him. You felt like you were going crazy being with just him again. Sure, his mother was completely brainwashed but still she was someone that wasn’t him.

Day 6: You weren’t allowed to dress yourself anymore. You hadn’t objected, but you did try and tell him that you could do it yourself, that you were an adult. But of course, you weren’t allowed to deny him. If you did, then he could hurt you. If you did, his father could kill you. What other choice did you have? How could you fight back when there was nothing protecting you except your captor’s empty promises? You hated the feeling of his hands on your body, skimming over your exposed flesh as he would change your clothes.

Day 7: You couldn’t deny his affection no matter how much you wanted to. You had found yourself pressed into the couch cushions, one of his hands woven through your hair as the other stroked your waist, his lips locked tightly to your own.

“Kiss me back.” He had whined into your mouth, harsh pants of air bursting over your lips. And reluctantly you did, because what else were you going to do? You had no other choice, there was no escape. Not while both of his parents were here. You had foolishly hoped that you could last ten days with him. That your punishment would end and you could regain what little freedoms he had given you before.

Day 8: You couldn’t sleep, not while he was doing what he was behind you. You had kept your eyes clenched tightly shut but you could still hear what he was doing, you could feel his breaths hitting the back of your neck as soft moans burst from his throat. His one hand gripping your hip tightly as he worked himself up, moaning your name desperately as you pretended to sleep.

You were disgusted, but you knew it would be better to pretend you were unaware than to snap at him.

Day 9: That night, he told you he wanted to bathe you. He wanted to cross the one hard line you gave him, and you were breaking ever so slowly. You didn’t flinch when he stripped you of your clothes or when he cradled your bare body to his chest, settling you into the tub. His eyes were hooded in lust, his gaze and hands straying as he washed you. This was what he wanted, full dependence and utter compliance. All you could do was close your eyes and pretend he was someone else, that you were anywhere but there.

Day 10: He wanted you. That was his “final” punishment. He had you laid out in the center of his bed, his hands running over every part of you he could touch while his lips marred the column of your throat. He was breathing heavily, raising himself up to kiss you as he reached down to pull your shirt up, only disconnecting from you to rip the fabric from your torso. He let out a deep groan, even though it was nothing he hadn’t already seen the night before. He frantically gripped the waistband of your pants and yanked them off to reveal more of your skin.

“My pretty, good, little girl.” He cooed, stroking your hips before his fingers curled into the fabric of your underwear, attempting to pull them away.

A sudden clarity overcame you and you couldn’t hold yourself back any longer. Your hands snapped down to his wrists and held them tight, trying your hardest to fix him with a glare you didn’t know you were capable of.

“No.” You bit out, your nails sinking into the skin of his wrists.

“No?” He laughed, that dark look returning to his handsome face. “Don’t you remember, baby? You can’t say no.”

There he was, the monster that you knew had been hiding behind that sweet face. Jungkook had several personas, the domineering kidnapper, the dotting boyfriend, and the whiny child. This was the one you had been waiting to see, the one that had violently slammed your head into the hood of your car that night. The one that had drugged you and zip tied you in the back of his car. He was always there, just sitting beneath the surface waiting to come and get you.

But you were tired, so fucking tired of being scared all the time. You took a deep breath and squared your shoulders, fixing him with the darkest glare you could manage. This wouldn’t go his way, no matter how much he thought he was winning, no matter how he played you like a Puppeteer controlling his helpless marionette. And with conviction you bit out that one word you had agreed not to say.

“No.”