#she escaped an abusive mother and founded a family of her own but when she came back they were older and colder... oh and there's this guy
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thefaithfulnightwriter · 3 days ago
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𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐔𝐍𝐀 ~ Chapter One
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Summary - 𝙄𝙣 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝 the High Lord of Night Court Rhysand and Y/n meet during cruel dark times. During Amarantha's ruling over Prythian. Finding each other during such a time the two secretly fall deeply in love with one another. Both having a rare bond tethering them together... a mating bond. A bond that they both cherished and held close to their hearts. Though they loved each other dearly there was something that was missing. A missing piece they could feel deep within. It caused the two to grow a longing feeling within. It didn't deter their love for one another. But they just knew there was a blank space in their bond. After so long the two mates finally find the missing piece... another mate.
Pairing - Rhysand x Female!Reader x Feyre Archeron
Universe - pre acotar - acowar [it may go into an au after acowar not sure yet though]
Warnings - Gore, Death, Blood, Characters may be a bit OOC, Mature Themes, Semi Smut or Smut NOT Sure Yet, Violence, Language, Abuse, Mention of Past Abuse, Mention of SA and SH (but nothing descriptive), War, Things Will Be Changed Sort Of, Fluff, Angst, Some Sensitive Subjects, Mating Bonds, Poly. Relationship MxFxM, More Will Be Added If Needed.
Disclaimer - I do not own the series ACOTAR - ACOWAR. I do own certain characters, and I own my mc. I do own somethings that are made up. And i own my writing and whatnot you get where im going and what i am saying lol.
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Shaking her head she found herself able to wake up. A groan escaped her lips at the pain in her head and the pain that traveled all over her body. But then a whimper escaped her soon after. Opening her eyes slightly she was met with the ground beneath her moving slowly. Her vision was still blurry. She then felt two strong grips on her arms holding her up. Along with cuffs  around her wrists and a collar around her neck all connected to chains. She then realized that she was being dragged somewhere. Feeling the ground scraping against her legs.
Opening and closing her eyes rapidly she tried to clear her vision. Once cleared another whimper escaped her as she tried to get away from the two holding her. But it was no use because she was too weak. But a cry escaped her when she felt someone suddenly yank at the metal collar around her neck. Causing her to gasp and cough. It seemed there was someone behind her. 
“You better stop. You know Amarantha won’t want a possible new pet to be banged up too much by us. We already did enough when catching her. She’d want to do the rest herself.”  
She heard one of the males dragging her say. After he spoke they were all soon laughing at his words. She was now confused and terrified. But hearing the name Amarantha she realized where she might be now… Under the Mountain. A place she dreaded and wanted nothing to do with. 
She remembered being in the Spring Court with her family. All of them were getting ready to leave the Court together. Seeing that the Spring Court was being watched more closely than the others by the new cruel ruler of Prythian… Amarantha. Her ruling having been for ten years now. They wanted to get away from the constant searching and persistent eyes. They wanted to stay safe and keep hidden.
They had to stay hidden… well more so herself then anyone. Her family wanted to keep her hidden and out of the public's eye. Being she was something or someone very rare. Someone very rare that hasn’t been seen in many centuries. Something rare but also powerful. And it seemed the people knew as well now. As they dragged her through the dark halls and to a room. 
Now closing her eyes, she began to think about it. She could remember what had happened. She was playing with her younger brother Evrin in the forest behind their cottage when her mother and father came running. They had heard that people were coming to take her to Amarantha herself. They wanted to run. But it was too late. Their cottage was raided not long after. Which led her and her father to fight. While her mother and brother ran to hide. As they fought they almost killed her father but she was able to hide him away from them before they could. But as she did at that moment she was captured. 
She just hoped that her family were together and safe. Her mother, father, and younger brother. She knew they most likely would be at their meeting point. A meeting point on the edge of Spring Court leading into Summer Court. But it broke her heart just thinking of it. That she wouldn’t be meeting them. Because she was in the hands of Amarantha now. 
It caused tears to fall down her cheeks knowing that she was in her hands. She knew how cruel she could be having heard of her through the whispers in the winds. She could hear the cries and prayers to the Mother at times. Then hearing of her from the people in the Spring Court, hearing the rumors and stories. She was scared. No, she was terrified.       
She had soon jumped hearing the loud opening of the large doors leading into a vast room. There were many people in the room. As she looked around with tears in her eyes. She saw many with smirks and grins with their gazes on her. But as she looked to the throne in the room there she sat… Amarantha. 
Seeing her causes her to shake in fear. She was quick to look at the ground. Not wanting to meet her eyes. But a yelp escaped her when she was thrown roughly onto the floor at her feet. Her chains clicked on the ground. Which caused many to laugh at her pain. On shaking hands she forced herself to sit up. 
But she didn’t care about their laughter. At that moment she was too scared. She didn’t look up; she kept her eyes on the ground in front of her. Too scared to look up. It was then she heard everyone quiet and then movement. The clicking of heels moved closer to her. It was then she saw black heels come into her view. 
“Well aren’t you a pretty little thing.”
She heard a female speak. She knew that it was Amarantha. She just knew it was her. It caused a whimper to escape her lips as she kept her eyes on the floor. But soon she felt fingers tangle their way into her long hair and then a yelp escaped her. As her head was forced back. 
“So, tell me little fairy what is your name?” Amarantha questioned her with a grin. As she ran her fingers from her hair down to her cheek. Then up to her longer than average fae ear that was pointed. A gasp left her lips hearing Amarantha call her ‘little fairy’. This meant she probably knew what and who she was and that scared her even more.
But she kept her mouth shut not wanting to give her name. Which Amarantha didn’t like. She was then grabbing her sensitive ear and pulling harshly. Causing her to cry out. But she didn’t speak her name. Leading Amarantha to raise her hand and slap her harshly against her cheek. So hard she fell to the floor with a sob. It led many to laugh.
“Oh shut up! Now I am only going to ask this once more. And if you don’t answer me I’m going to cut off one of those cute ears you have. So, what is your name?” Amarantha threatened before asking again. Reaching a hand out she was quickly given a sharp dagger. Sitting up again she didn’t know if she should tell her name. She was contemplating if she should. But she seemed to have taken too long because Amarantha was kneeling again. She then had a harsh grip on her ear and began to drag the sharp pointed dagger harshly on her ear. 
“Y/n! I - It’s Y/n,” She cried out in pain, her ear now bleeding. She knew it would leave a scar. Amarantha was then letting her ear go and grinned, satisfied with the answer. She still had her eyes on Y/n. Who still had yet to meet her eyes. She didn’t seem to care because her eyes were focused on Y/n. She then muttered, ‘hmmm I wonder’ to herself. 
She was then grabbing her cream colored dress and was soon cutting the back of it. A cry was heard from Y/n as she tried to get away. She didn’t want her to see. She had to keep them hidden. But before she could crawl away she was grabbed by the chain on her collar around her neck and pulled closer to Amarantha. Who continued to cut and rip at the back of her dress. As she did, markings were soon revealed and seen. Black lines and curves were marked on her back and the back of her arms. They seemed to be the markings of wings.
“There they are. I guess they were right. A little spy told me that you are a rare powerful creature. A very rare elemental fairy,” Amarantha laughed. But many gasps were heard from the crowd who were looking at her. Seeing the markings on her back. She didn’t know what to do besides trying to hold the front of her dress up. 
Trying to keep herself covered. And holding her bleeding ear. As many more tears fell down her soft cheeks. She was supposed to keep what she was a secret. She was supposed to be a secret… but not anymore. Everyone now knew and many more would know. But a whimper escaped her lips at what Amarantha said next.
“But now you're my new pet,” Amarantha taunted with a grin. She chuckled as she grabbed the front of the collar around Y/n’s neck pulling her closer. She tried to pull away again not wanting to be anywhere near her. But it was no use. She wished she could be anywhere else. But she knew she wasn’t going to get what she wished for. 
“Get her cleaned up and take her to my guest chambers. Oh and don’t try anything with that magic you have little fairy. Those cuffs and that collar will stop it and it will backfire. You will only be able to use them if I see fit and if I give you permission,” Amarantha demanded as she stood up pushing her away. But still with a grin upon her lips. Soon a guard was walking forward and grabbing her arm and dragged her away once again. As someone a female followed after them. A sob escaped Y/n as he dragged her away. 
But there were a pair of violet eyes on her never leaving her. Having felt a pull towards her like no other. Which they knew and understood what it was instantly. They were trying to hide their pain, awe, and shock behind a mask. Trying to hold themselves together and hold back from running to her. Wanting to have her in their arms and to take her far away from this place. But they knew they couldn’t. It took everything in them to keep their emotions in check and hidden to keep their mask in place. Because they just realize they may have found their mate. 
Rhysand the High Lord of Night Court just realized he just may have found his mate. And he couldn’t do anything to take her away from this horrible place and that broke his heart.   
°˖✧✿✧˖°★°˖✧✿✧˖°
It had been a few days now and she was stuck in a room, a sobbing mess. After a night with Amarantha doing anything she wanted with her. But just thinking about what had happened caused her to let out another sob. As she curled into herself, hugging herself tightly. She wished that she could be anywhere else and that she didn’t have to go through such things. But it had already happened and there was nothing she could do. And she knew it would happen again and it pained her.
She soon saw flashes of moments of what happened. Feeling Amarantha’s hands on her and more. Seeing the marks she had left on her skin. She was then sitting up quickly. She then started pulling harshly at the cuffs that were still on her and the collar. 
She remembers trying to use her magic while Amarantha touched her. But all it did was inflict pain on herself and made Amarantha laugh at her attempts. Before she threatened to search for her family and end them if she didn’t stop. Which led her to stop fighting and to let her do as she pleased and did as she was told. Not wanting anything to happen to her family. She would make sure nothing happened to them.
Another cry escaped her lips as she made an attempt to use her magic. But all it did was inflict pain on herself. Right now it took to burning her skin. Crying at the pain and memories. She didn’t know what to do besides keep pulling at the cuffs. As she kept using her magic not caring if it hurt her. Not caring if it left marks on her skin. She didn’t care. She just wanted them off and to be somewhere else. She wanted to be with her family. She didn’t want any of this. And at that moment she was so lost that she didn’t realize that someone had entered the room. Opening the door quietly sneaking into the room. But seeing her they were quick to move to her. 
She jumped when strong large hands came into view and grabbed hers. Careful of the cuffs on her wrists digging into her now damaged skin. Making sure not to touch them. But quickly stopping her from pulling at the cuffs on her wrists and from using her magic. A cry escaped her once again as she tried to pull away. But they kept a gentle but firm grip on her. As she looked at the one who stopped her she gasped just as they did. 
Her eyes clashed with violet ones. 
Both looked perplexed at each other. Because as soon as their eyes met unexpectedly a golden bond formed slightly stronger between the two. That was now noticeable to the two. A rare bond that they could feel in their chest… a mating bond. But looking at him taking him in, she knew who he was instantly. 
He was Rhysand the High Lord of Night Court. He was truly handsome. The stories and rumors didn’t do him justice. But as she looked at him he looked at her with awe. Yes, he knew she was probably his mate a few days ago. But now he knew it for sure… she was his mate. And he couldn’t help but look at her in awe. He couldn’t believe he really found her.  
Y/n though was stuck in thought. Having remembered hearing the rumors about him. And she didn’t know what to think. She didn’t even know what to say. She was frozen with her gaze on him. He was her mate. She didn’t know how to feel. She didn’t know if she wanted to wrap her arms around him or pull away. But she soon shook her shocked state away when he let her go gently. Not wanting to overwhelm her anymore than what she already was. He didn’t want to do that to her.  
“Sorry. You were… hurting yourself. I - you shouldn’t do that,” Rhysand said after clearing his throat. After stumbling over his words slightly. His eyes still on her taking her in. She was gorgeous. But taking in her state and the scent lingering in the room he knew what had happened. He knew what Amarantha had done to her, his mate. 
It led him to clench his jaw in anger. It was such a strong emotion that washed over him. Which caused her to flinch feeling such a thing through their new bond that they shared together. But she shook it off seeing Rhysand send her a small smile that said ‘sorry’. She after a moment couldn’t help but look at him and say it. Still in a state of shock that he was her mate. She couldn’t help but voice it.
“You’re m - my mate,” she whispered, afraid to say it louder. More so stating a fact then asking. Not taking her eyes off of him. She couldn’t believe she had just found her mate. Nor could she believe that he was the High Lord of Night Court. And now as she looked at him he didn’t seem like the one from the rumors she had heard from people. He seemed kind, vulnerable even as he looked at her. But she soon remembered what the winds had whispered to her about him. She watched as a small smile washed over Rhysand hearing her say such a thing. 
“Yes I am. But can you come with me, my flower? If you want,” Rhysand cooed. Reaching out a hand for her to take. Waiting for her to reach and take his hand in hers. Giving her the choice to come with him. Looking from him to his hand she was hesitant. But after a few seconds she shakingly grabbed it. She didn’t know where he was taking her. But part of her wanted to follow him, her mate. She thought he wouldn’t hurt her right. So she did follow after him. As she kept a close watch on the bond they shared. Taking notice of slight emotions flowing to her from him. Shakingly she began to crawl her way out of the bed. 
As she got off the bed she almost fell but Rhysand was quick to catch her by her waist. Keeping the blanket in place that covered her bare body. Sending her a smile before removing his hands from her waist but kept a hold of her hand. He then began leading her to a door that led to a bathroom.
When they entered the room, Rhysand moved her to stand near the sink. As she stood she watched him move so gracefully and with purpose. She couldn’t keep her eyes off of him. She watched as he filled the large tub with warm water then added oils and what not. And after he was done she then watched as he held out a hand for her. Looking at his hand she took it again. He then moved her to the tub and took a step back. 
“I will be out in the room if you need me. So we can talk when you are done. Take as long as you need. I will wait,” Rhysand informed her, about to leave the room wanting to give her privacy. But before he could turn and leave she stopped him. Keeping a firm grip on his hand. Leading him to look at her with a slight tilt of his head with curiosity. It was then he saw she now had a fearful look upon her face as she looked up at him. 
“You’ll actually stay right? You promise,” she asked softly but with a shaky voice. As she kept her gaze on him, her eyes never leaving his. She didn’t want him to leave her. Not after she just found out that he was her mate. She didn’t know exactly how she felt about it. But she just didn’t want to lose him so soon. A part of her wanted him close and near. She just wanted her mate. Seeing her look at him in such a way caused him to send her a small meaningful smile. 
“I promise I won’t leave you. There are things we need to discuss. Plus I just found you… I’m not leaving your side unless I need or have to,” Rhysand soothed. Bringing her hand closer to him he pulled her hand to his lips, placing a soft kiss upon it. Careful of the cuff still around her wrist that no longer had chains connected to them as they did when she first came. As he did such a gesture he sent reassurance to her through the bond. Which led her to sigh in relief. 
Nodding, she watched as he released her hand gently and left the room. Giving her privacy as he closed the door gently behind him. Sighing again she turned to the warm steaming bath. Taking in the scent and bath caused a small smile to wash over her. Thinking he did such a thing for her. She shook it away and allowed the blanket to drop and stepped into the bath.        
As she sat and started to clean herself. She began to think about her mate… Rhysand. Many thoughts came to her mind. Remembering what she had heard from the winds about him. Then hearing the rumors that fae said about him. A sigh escaped her lips not knowing what to think of him. But then a thought came to her mind causing her to freeze.
Would he even truly accept her as his mate or reject her? Thinking it caused a soft gasp to escape her lips. Before worry filled her. Would she survive such a thing… rejection? Would she survive him not wanting her as his mate? Taking a deep breath she soon released a tired breath. Before hugging her legs to her chest and leaning her head on her knees. Closing her eyes she took deep breaths trying to keep her tears at bay. Then another thought came to her mind.
How were they even going to go about this bond in such a place if they were to accept each other as mates? If they did they would most likely have to keep it hidden. And soon many more things came to her mind. Hitting her like a crashing wave in the ocean almost drowning her in the depths of dark waters. 
Many bad and horrifying thoughts washed over her mind. But she was quick to try and shake her head. She tried to calm herself but found it hard. That is until she felt reassurance flow to her. Starting from her chest and flowing throughout her body. She knew it must have been Rhysand through the bond she has yet to really fully grasp. She couldn’t help the small smile that now washed over her. It caused her to sigh again before she started to wash herself once again. 
In that moment she stopped her motions as she remembered one of the things her mother always says to her. 
“Take one step at a time. Take it minute by minute, day by day. We have long lives ahead of us. There’s nothing wrong with taking your time with certain things. So there’s no need to worry so much all at once.”
She remembered her mother saying to her once. And repeating such a thing on more than one occasion. It caused her to smile thinking of her mother. It felt like forever since she last saw her mother. She just hopes that her family is safe after everything. She then shook the thought away trying not to overthink about them. Not wanting to sink into such worry and thoughts.
After she was done washing she soon made her way out of the bath. Grabbing the towel that was already out. Drying herself off, she looked at the mirror to find herself staring back at her. Her eyes didn’t have their usual bright glow. Her skin was paler without having a certain glow. Her body was littered with marks and scratches. Then there were the collar and cuffs on her that were very noticeable. She could see the red marks that were under them.
But she was quick to turn and move her long hair over her shoulder to look at her back and arms. The black lines and curves and marks were still there and intact… her wings. They were still there. But there were a few marks causing her to sigh. Her back was and always would be sensitive along with her long pointed ears. Which led her to reach to her ear that now had a long scar on it. She didn’t like it but she would have to live with it. She would have to live with everything causing her to sigh in defeat. 
Shaking her head of such thoughts. She soon tightened her grip on her towel around her frame. Looking at the sink she found a dress neatly folded with undergarments. She wondered when they appeared but didn’t think much of it. Knowing Rhysand must have used his magic to make them appear for her. It made a light blush appear over her cheeks thinking of it, about him. 
But she didn’t linger on the thought long. Not wanting to go down that path. Not yet anyway. Not without talking to him first. To see where they stand. Reaching out she was quick to put on the clothing and then made her way to the door. But she stopped in front of it for a moment.
Listening, she could hear the flipping of pages and the sound of a soft heartbeat that seemed to quicken sometimes. She knew who it was… Rhysand, her mate. She could feel how close he was through the bond they shared. With the mating bond they share she didn’t know what was going to happen between them. All she could do was hope that all would go well. Soon she was gathering up the little courage she had. She then took a deep breath and opened the door. So she could face what was to come with her now having a mate. 
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leavemetrappedinacage · 3 days ago
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EVERYTHING WAS A MISTAKE — i. cheater.
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⤷ summary: Leaving home isn't hard, coming back to home is, you're determined to find your sister, but Gojo has many things to say to you.
⤷ pairing: yandere!satoru gojo x fem!vampire!reader.
⤷ warnings: angst, abuse (physical assault), a bit of gore, blood, abusive behavior, it's implied that Gojo has assaulted reader other times in the past, gaslighting, mentions of cheating, mentions of death, psychological violence (Gojo is manipulating the reader into thinking that everything is her fault), spoilers (JJK0).
⤷ more information about story: here.
⤷ notes: this chapter is a bit hard to read (it was hard to write too), if you are in an abusive relationship or have just come out of one reading it may cause triggers, so please stay safe. 🤍 (I forgot to post the chapter yesterday, sorry. 😭)
⤷ word count: 2867.
Human lives are bubbles floating on the surface of the water, fleeting, but the life of a vampire is perennial, like the Pinus longaeva, which will last for millennia if it is not uprooted. You let go of Satoru's clothes, to whom you were clinging tightly until recently. The words he said to you seem like a bad joke, but the part of you that knows him knows that he wouldn't lie about such a serious matter. A million possibilities run through your head and none of them seem right. Your older sister is the current head of the clan, she succeeded your mother after her death, she is also married to Satoru's older brother and is therefore part of the Gojo clan by marriage, no one in their right mind would harm her, unless they wanted to provoke a war that they would never win.
In the past, after you broke one of the clan's three taboos, your sister came to understand your side of the story, and although you confessed your sins out of your own mouth without showing remorse, she knew you well enough to know that you would never commit a crime of this proportion unless it was truly necessary, you were hot-headed, not a serial killer. However, there was a limit to her influence, your sister had to withdraw from the investigation not long after, the other investigators claimed there was a conflict of interest and personal motivations on her part because you belong to the same lineage, although you knew very well why they wouldn't allow her to investigate, you comforted her by saying it was all a mistake.
You accepted the death sentence so that her and her family's reputation wouldn't be tarnished by her crimes, but when you found out what they would do with your corpse after your death, you had no choice but to run away. You escaped from prison and left everything behind, so you would never see your family again and would forever be an outcast, but you knew that Gabi, your beloved sister, still had hope.
You fall to the ground on your knees, your heart breaks into a million pieces that you may never be able to put back together, the tears flow endlessly, but you don't make a sound. Your sister once told you: "One day, I will die, and you will be the last member of our family. And when that day comes, you'll miss me so bad when I'm gone, Y/N!" She said it laughing, you didn't care because she was the head of the clan, and just like your mother, she would die of old age with three children or more, but now those words blowing in the wind have taken on a new meaning, as if she knew deep down that it would happen. You put your hand on your chest and lean forward until your face touches the carpet, you open your mouth to scream, there's no strength left in you to do so, only a bitter taste of defeat in your mouth.
Satoru gets down on his knees in front of you and hugs you, you don't pull back because it's the only comfort you can have right now, you cling to him like you're clinging to your last thread of hope, you allow yourself to cry because it's the only thing you can do right now. He's never seen you react like this, you never cry, you didn't shed a single tear at your own mother's funeral, you were like a beacon in the middle of a stormy night, strong and resilient, no one has ever been able to shake you, so seeing you so vulnerable makes him feel he needs to protect you. He lifts your face with both hands and wipes the snot off with the sleeve of his shirt, you're a wreck, but you muster the strength to get up. Now with a clear head, you know you have to solve this problem, no matter what.
"I'm going to kill them all." You mutter, the glow you're carrying fades and gives way to a gloomy aura, you turn away from Satoru, you're planning how to kill these people, there are too many of them and only one of you, but you've been in a similar situation before, so you think it won't be a big problem. "Thanks for warning me, but I don't want you to meddle this time, it's a matter of fa-"
Satoru suddenly interrupts you. You don't have time to associate what happened right away, it was so fast, only then do you realize that he's hit you, you touch your cheek and it's hot and tingling, your ear is ringing as if a bell is inside your head, and it feels like one of your eyes has popped out of your skull because you're not seeing well. You're so bewildered that he has to hold you so that you don't fall to the ground again.
"I don't know what the hell you're thinking, but stop. Now." He gently grabs your face and presses down on your right eye with his thumb in order to put it back in place, and you stand there as if you were a doll being carefully repaired. "You're a hothead, aren't you? God! Are you thinking of killing someone else? I hope not, I don't want to have to do it again." He scolds you, he doesn't like the idea of having to hit you, but you always cross the line, it's so annoying. "If you make a single slip-up, everyone's efforts will be for nothing, your sister's life is at stake and we still don't know the intentions behind the kidnapping, so. Stop. Acting. Impulsively." He spoke slowly and nodded, waiting for you to agree. "Answer me."
"But-"
"Answer." Somehow his aura seemed to pressure you, it's always like this, he says he doesn't want to hit you, but if you keep doing things the way you want, he'll hit you again and again until you stop, you shrug and he sighs. "Y/N... answer me, I won't do it again, so be a good girl and say you won't do anything."
"I won't act on impulse, I promise."
"Yes, yes. I knew you were still a good girl." His tone of voice has changed, the pressure on his shoulders is also gone, he pushes back a lock of hair and kisses your forehead, it's almost as if he's someone else. "I'd love to spend some time with you here, but we have to go now."
"Now?" You hear a pop, Gloria and the children are still waiting for you, you can't leave without saying goodbye, you look around the room for the bread basket and find it completely ruined, you let out a breath of air through your nose. "I couldn't go and see any of you anyway."
"Who are you talking about?" Satoru grabs you from behind and buries his face in your neck, you're tense and stiff, it would be bad if he found out about Gloria, he's not the kind of person who tolerates jealousy. But fortunately he doesn't seem to know, he sees the basket of bread on the floor and remembers the children you greeted earlier. "I didn't know you liked children so much."
"Oh, yes, of course?! So you were stalking me at that time too?" He replies with a 'mhmm', you roll your eyes. "You're awful." You let out a dry, mirthless laugh. "Oh, I never had a chance, did I?"
"I'm glad you know your place." He's so overbearing and arrogant, yet if you had only half the power he has, you'd act like it too. "I'll help the children later if you behave yourself on the journey back."
"Really?" Your shoulders relax, you lean in to look at him, he nods in agreement and you're relieved, but everything has a price...
"But you'll owe me one." He whispers unassumingly. "Two, actually." He holds up two fingers, you choke. "Or have you forgotten that I'm going to have to take you in secret?"
"I thought you were going to give me up! I even thought I would need Suguru's help."
"Of course not!" He shouts, irritated, an icy chill shakes your body, you lower your head and he continues shouting. "What kind of monster do you think I am? I would never hurt you, Y/N. I... I... forget it." He pushes you away and massages his temples, then stops abruptly and runs his hand over his face as if he's just remembered something. "Oh, one more thing, Suguru is dead."
"WHAT?"
"I killed Suguru, he committed some crimes, but nothing compares to the fact that he hid you from me." Satoru lets out an infamous chuckle, you can't believe what he's just told you, but given the circumstances, you know he's not lying, the only person who knew your whereabouts was Suguru. "You remember when you abandoned me, don't you? Didn't you think about me? How I might feel?"
"You weren't the only one I left behind, and-" You start to speak, but he signals you to shut up and stop making excuses he doesn't want to hear.
"But as far as I know you haven't abandoned Suguru, have you?" You feel the air get heavy and Satoru's shadow covers you, he seems much bigger than you or you're feeling too small, you don't know, you go back and grope the tree, there's nowhere to run, you close your eyes and wait, maybe for the next slap or something worse. "He told me everything before he died... so we have a lot to talk about, Y/N."
Mistrust is like a deadly poison that eats away at you from the inside, it makes love grow cold, but it also gives birth to a weed called resentment. There's no fixing something that's been broken, when you put the pieces back together, the cracks and scars of the breakage will be there forever, it will break again if you fill it with water. There is no way to mend the heart of someone who has already been betrayed or abandoned.
Satoru look at you with a fake smile, the corners of his mouth are twitching, a bad sign, there's no escape for a change, there's only the two of you on this deserted house, even if there was someone here no one would come to save you, there's no place you can use to hide, but there's no way and no reason to hide when the Six Eyes are looking for you. You open your mouth, but give and accept that there is no other option but to stay quiet, he seems satisfied with your decision, the smile on his face widens.
"Satoru..."
"You cheated on me." He repeats with tears in his eyes.
"WAIT, WHAT? I never cheated on you." You choke, you don't know if he's making it up or Suguru said something that made him get it all wrong. "I don't think this is the time or the moment to talk about it."
"But I do." He retorts. "You disappeared for ten years, Y/N. DAMNED. TEN. YEARS!" He puts a lot of emphasis on that. "You didn't try to contact me during that time, you didn't even make an effort to make me try to understand your side, but..." He paused dramatically. "There was enough space for Suguru to continue in your life. Do you know how painful it was to find out from him that you'd been in contact and seeing each other for all those years?" He frowns and laughs like a maniac. "What about me, Y/N? I was alone in the dark for ten years. I had no news of you, I didn't know where you were, how you were or if you were even alive, but he knew because he told me before he died." He scratches the back of his neck and bites his lower lip. "You didn't even bother to break up with me."
"You turned your back on me first! You spent weeks ignoring me before everything happened and-"
"Because YOU were hiding things from ME!" He shouts and points at you accusingly. "I never knew your side because you didn't trust me enough to open up to me, your own boyfriend." He uses both hands to point at himself, the veins in his neck and forehead bulging, he's furious. "But Suguru knew, because you told him everything, didn't you? You even asked for help to escape."
You choke, you don't know if Suguru revealed all the details to him, but your mind goes blank like a blank canvas for lack of arguments, you can't retort, because what he's saying is the truth, at no point did you consider the possibility of trying to contact him, you didn't explain why you killed all those people in the first place, you just accepted the fact that he hated you and decided to walk away without saying a word. Who told you he hated you? Did he really think you were a monster? The fine line between what was true and what wasn't was so thin that you couldn't tell the difference anymore.
"I forgave you for killing those people and for running away, but this..." He points at you and for a portrait of you and Suguru on the bedside table, then makes a cutting sign with his hands, shaking his head frantically. "I'll never forgive that. Never."
"I'm sorry."
"It's too late to say you're sorry." Satoru reaches into his pocket and pulls out a black blindfold. "You never really loved me, did you? You loved him, I was just... an idiot. That's the truth. I was just a substitute for him."
You see the tears streaming down his face, he brushes them away with the back of his hand as if he doesn't want you to see him cry, you feel your stomach lurch, you don't have the courage to approach him, it's bad enough to know that everything that happened in the past was a big misunderstanding, to be abandoned and in a way betrayed, you can't measure his pain. And although you have your share of the blame for his suffering, he has to understand that you were on the run, many came after you to kill you, familiar faces, you have a lot of traumas to carry, and you don't want or need to carry the weight of this ill-fated relationship, but you can't help it.
"I expected a little loyalty from you. But you're one of them." Satoru refers to the fame of vampires and their multiple partners, but you're not like the others, you really only loved him, but he's so blinded by hatred that he can't see. You love him so much that you trusted him with your life. "You... you cheating bitch, I did everything for you, I... I even tried to forgive you for it, but then you started thinking about going after him? HAHAHA, I'm really stupid."
"I'm not a cheater. I've NEVER cheated on you." A lump forms in your throat, you can barely defend yourself against these unfounded accusations, based on jealousy and paranoia, you sniffle and wipe away tears that wanted to escape from your eyes. "I swear, I never did that, I-" 'love you' You continue the sentence mentally.
You endured everything in silence for fear of sharing the burden with someone else, because you are afraid to lose everyone, but you also believe that if you had been honest from the beginning, he would have understood you, and maybe your sister wouldn't have had to go through what you're going through now, but now it's too late to be honest.
"You just used me and are still using me for your own gain, you just want to ensure your sister's safety and leave. Like everyone else... I'm just a tool for you."
"That's not true, stop it."
The truth hurts, and he's telling the truth, from the beginning you thought of him as a tool to find your sister, but not everything is true, you also want to spend time with him, since finding him again has ignited something inside you, but you don't have the strength to go against him. You take a step forward and he moves away, you reach out to touch him and he rejects you, it's so painful that you'd rather he hit you, you grab his hand and he's so cold, so distant, as if an abyss were separating you. You open your mouth to beg for forgiveness once again, but you feel a stinging pain in your head and heart, a buzzing in your ears makes you dizzy and makes you scream hysterically, your nose and ears began to bleed non-stop.
"Y/N?" Satoru's voice becomes distant and his image blurs. "Y/N?! Are you all right?"
"I... I... I feel... so... sorry... I... will... tell you... everything..." Your vision suddenly darkens.
The last thing you hear is Satoru's voice shouting your name.
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arggghhhsstuff · 3 months ago
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heyy i would like more of how thalia's time as a tree affected her please. was she asleep? was she conscious at all? did she feel trapped, or at peace? could she tell when someone was approaching? did it change her?? chat did it change her. does she miss it??? she is not the same girl she once was, that is much clear. but why, exactly. what changed. i have so many questions
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charlietheepicwriter7 · 1 year ago
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Despite Danny's best efforts, no matter how much time past, Amity Park refused to see Phantom as a hero.
Sure, there were pockets of support, particularly among teens, but most of the town blames Phantom for the property damage, saying if he didn't fight the ghosts then it wouldn't be so bad, to that time he got mind controlled by Freakshow and "attacked" the mayor. It wears him down. It wears Tucker and Sam down. Jazz can only try to support them all.
Then one day, a member of the Justice League visits. Someone minor, and kinda a jerk... maybe a Wonder Twin? Zan? Whatever. They don't investigate; they don't look deeper. They listen to the town folks and declare the ghost hunters, Red Huntress and the Fentons, to be the official heroes of the town.
Worse? Danny Phantom is officially considered a villain to the Justice League. Tuck hacks into the Watchtower and confirms that they have a file (a heavily inaccurate file) about how to defeat Phantom.
Danny doesn't think he can do this anymore.
A few weeks later, a young villain escapes into Amity and demands (begs) that Danny help them escape from the hero after them. No idea who, I can't find a lot of info on teen villains in DC, so let's fudge some ages and make it Kyd Wyckyd from the Teen Titans cartoon. Danny agrees, because to hell with the Justice Losers, and they defeat the hero, becoming friends in the process. Kyd confesses that they became a villain after being ostracized bc of how they look, and they've been trying to avoid villain organizations because HIVE was abusive, but it's really hard to be a villain alone bc of all the heroes.
Sam gets an idea. Tucker agrees with the idea. Jazz is just happy they'll end up making friends.
The next day, the Teen Villain Alliance is formed, ready to assist with any teenage illegal shenanigans their allies might get into.
Some notes:
It's created to be a healthier option for teen "villains" to connect with others and support each other.
It's more important that this is for Teens rather than Villains. They're tired of adult villains taking advantage of them. The TVA would rather ally with a teen vigilante than with an adult villain.
Again, no idea who the teen villains are, but Klarion is definitely here. He leaves the Light for the chaos of the TVA. Maybe Ember is there too?
Timeline wise, this is around when Tim is still Robin, but Damien has arrived at Wayne Manor.
This is because, when it comes time to try to infiltrate the TVA, they'll have a convenient child-assassin who has none of the monitors of a teen hero that Phantom immediately picks up on.
Damien, who at this point has been abandoned by his mother, dismissed and scolded by his father, and has had no success at carving his own place in the family, jumps at the chance. He is then surrounded by peers who don't insult him or try to change his behavior (too much; jazz is trying to help him find healthier methods of expressing himself). He... might not want to continue being a spy.
Danny, Sam, Tuck, and Jazz are the founding members.
Danny reinvents himself as the High Prince of the Infinite, Prince Phantom Dark. He got kingship from fighting Pariah Dark, but since he's still alive, he's only a prince. He steals the last name Dark as an intimidation tatic against those in the know; only Danny would have the balls to claim family with Pariah.
Sam works as a powerless villain, but she might no be powerless? Either way, Danny gives her a bunch of repurposed Fenton tech, and she buys the rest with her parents credit card. She does NOT care if that's traced back to the Mansons. She would choose something goth, maybe something spider related or even bat?
I love Pharaoh Tucker, so I think he should get magic powers? Since pharaohs of old were considered the balance between the real and the divine. He's still a tech guy, now he's a tech and magic guy.
Jazz isn't really a villain, more of a team mom who's planning on using everyone's psyche's as her thesis paper. You know what, that's her callsign, she's Psyche. Sometimes she flirts with Nightwing.
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belqva · 1 month ago
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₊˚⊹౨ PTOLEMAEA (C.M.) ৎ ₊˚⊹
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warnings: emotional and physical abuse, inappropriate comments (only one), parent issues, confessional themes, religious themes, mentions of miscarriages, alcoholism, cheating and gambling
summary: In a church’s embrace, faith and desire collide. A daughter’s silent struggle beneath parents’ guise, seeks solace in forbidden thoughts.
pairing: charlie mayhew x reader
word count: 2.8k
a/n: umm.. what can I say? I’m just a girl and I am obsessed with Nicholas Chavez so ofc I had to write something for him!! Sorry if there are any inaccuracies I am not a roman catholic Christian, and in no ways do I approve of any kind of religious discrimination or whatsoever!! This is just a work of fanfiction. Just to mention yet again English is not my first language so sorry if there are any mistakes. Feel free to write your thoughts and opinions, requests are open as long as you are respectful!! And as always I hope you enjoy <333
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You stood at Sunday morning mass beside your parents, the familiar scent of candles and incense filling the air. Your hair was tied back in a neat ponytail, a delicate bow resting against it—just the way your mother liked it.
You wore a knee-length skirt with an appropriate top, an outfit that aligned with the image of a good Christian girl. You were supposed to be focused on prayer, absorbing the priest’s sermon, but your mind wandered elsewhere.
The morning had already been eventful, and your thoughts kept replaying the chaotic scene at home before you arrived at church.
It had all changed so quickly once you stepped through the church doors. Your mother and father, as if by some silent agreement, shifted into their usual roles.
They greeted neighbors with wide smiles, exchanging pleasantries as though everything in your household was perfectly ordinary. Then, during mass, they stood on either side of you, hands folded in prayer, playing the part of a devout and happy Christian couple.
But it was a charade, and you knew it all too well. Only an hour earlier, their voices had echoed through the house in another heated argument.
Your father, as always, was a shadow of the man you had once imagined he could be. He had wanted a son, a dream he clung to until after your birth. But after several miscarriages, his hope dissolved, replaced by bitterness. His drinking became a constant, and gambling soon followed. He found his escape in these vices, and over time, he drifted further from any sense of family.
Your mother, meanwhile, had her own form of escape. The affairs started when you were still too young to fully understand, but over time, even your father became aware. They would argue and scream, but the fights eventually gave way to indifference. They had stopped trying to fix anything, stopped pretending they even wanted to.
And then there was you. A silent observer, a helpless child who could only watch as her parents’ marriage fell apart piece by piece. You wondered, even at a young age, what you had done wrong. What could you have done differently? Why did you feel like it was your fault?
It wasn’t uncommon for your mother to slap you when things got particularly tense. Your father, too, had his moments—he would make inappropriate comments about your appearance that left you feeling small, but thank God, it never went beyond that.
Still, you tried so hard to be the perfect daughter, the ideal Christian girl. You volunteered at the church, memorized Bible verses, and always said your prayers, hoping that maybe one day it would be enough. Maybe one day Jesus would answer your prayers and fix what was broken.
But as you stood there in church, surrounded by people who had no idea what your life was really like, you felt tired. Tired of pretending, tired of praying for something that never seemed to come.
“Why don’t you focus, sweetheart?” your mother whispered sharply, her breath hot against your ear as she nudged you with her elbow.
“Sorry,” you mumbled, casting your eyes down. You forced yourself to listen to the priest’s voice, though his words washed over you like water over stone. But the truth lingered, always at the back of your mind.
You prayed every day, but sometimes, even you doubted if anyone was listening.
“We talked about this, Y/N. Pull yourself together,” your mother hissed, her voice sharp as she leaned in close.
Then, just as quickly, her face softened into a warm smile when an elderly woman nearby turned to glance your way. The performance was flawless—an image of maternal grace. But you felt the sting of her words sink in, a quiet reminder of how fragile your role in this family really was.
Your attention drifted back to the priest, Father Charlie, whose voice filled the room with conviction. “…Remember, the Lord hears all cries, even those spoken in silence. He sees every tear and knows every sorrow in your heart,” he said, his tone both soothing and firm.
“And He asks that we carry these burdens with faith, for through Him, we are never alone. We are called to forgive, to love, even when it feels impossible. For if He could forgive us, how can we withhold forgiveness from others?”
Father Charlie had been the priest at your church for a few years now, and in that time, he had become somewhat of an enigma to you. He was young, undeniably handsome, with a presence that was both comforting and mysterious.
His words held weight, and you admired him for the way he commanded the attention of the congregation, always knowing what to say.
You were fond of him—perhaps too fond. But you couldn’t entirely blame yourself for it. The girls at your Christian school were the ones who started the gossip.
You thought back to the way they whispered about him, shamelessly thirsting after him as though he were some untouchable prize.
“Did you know he was a personal trainer before he became a priest?” one of the girls had said, wide-eyed.
“What a waste,” another had added, grinning. “Who wouldn’t want to be with a man like him?”
At first, you found their comments disgusting and inappropriate. You tried to dismiss them as nothing more than vulgar fantasies. But then, despite yourself, the idea of Father Charlie as something other than a priest began to creep into your mind.
You imagined what he might have been like before his vow to the church. Your cheeks flushed as the thought of him—of his strong body and sharp features—set your nerves alight, and soon an embarrassing heat bloomed in your body, spreading across your skin.
You prayed it away. You really did. You asked God for guidance, for the strength to rid yourself of these sinful thoughts.
You even tried to crush on someone more suitable, someone your age, but it never lasted. Your mind always wandered back to Father Charlie, back to his deep voice and the way he seemed to command every room he walked into.
As he continued preaching, your gaze lingered on him longer than it should have. For the thousandth time, you marveled at his otherworldly face, the perfect symmetry of his jaw, the way his lips moved as he spoke of forgiveness and grace.
And though you knew better, though you told yourself it was nonsense, you swore you saw something—some glimmer in his eyes when they landed on you.
His gaze lingered, just for a moment, but it was enough to send your heart racing. You shifted uncomfortably in the pew, a wave of guilt and excitement washing over you.
What if he knew?
What if he could sense what you were thinking?
Of course, it was impossible. But each time his eyes flickered in your direction, the thoughts in your head grew louder, more intense, and far more dangerous.
You fought to keep your composure, but it felt like you were unraveling. Even as his voice carried on with words of love and forgiveness, you couldn’t shake the weight of your desires—desires that no prayer seemed capable of silencing.
The soft echo of footsteps faded as the last congregants filtered out of the church, leaving behind the lingering scent of incense and the faintest hint of candle wax. You fidgeted with the hem of your skirt, glancing at your parents as they walked toward the car, your mother’s back rigid, your father’s shoulders slumped. A familiar heaviness settled in your chest.
“Aren’t you coming, dear?” Your mother’s voice sliced through the silence, sharp yet feathered with concern.
“Just a moment. I would like to have a word with Father Charlie... alone,” you replied, your voice almost a whisper, tinged with trepidation.
Your mother narrowed her eyes, her expression a mixture of disbelief and irritation. “Oh dear, I’m sure Father Charlie is quite a busy man. You shouldn’t be bothering him with... pointless nonsense.” Her forced smile did little to mask her annoyance.
“Mother, I—”
A throat cleared nearby, interrupting you. You both turned to see Father Charlie standing there, his friendly smile disarming and warm.
“It’s quite alright, Ms. Y/L/N,” he said, his voice a soothing balm. “I am here to listen to everyone’s worries and thoughts. It is a part of my calling.”
Your mother opened her mouth to protest, but Father Charlie cut her off effortlessly. “I assure you I am more than glad to help your daughter with whatever it is.” His gaze shifted to you, filled with an understanding that made your heart flutter.
After a moment of tense silence, your mother relented, though it was clear she was not pleased. “Well, alright. We’ll be waiting with your father in the car. Don’t take too long.” Her words dripped with coldness as she turned to leave, casting one last accusatory glance your way.
“Yes, Mother,” you murmured, your heart pounding.
“Father Charlie,” she nodded, the tone of her voice suggesting she was dismissing him more than acknowledging him. He smiled again, the kind of smile that felt like sunlight breaking through clouds.
“I hope to see you soon, Ms. Y/L/N,” he said, his tone light but sincere.
As the heavy doors of the church swung shut behind your mother, a sigh escaped your lips, heavy with the weight of unspoken words. Father Charlie chuckled softly, the sound like music—a melody far more pleasant than the hymns that had echoed just moments ago. “She is quite the figure,” he observed, amusement dancing in his eyes.
“Oh, that she is…” you muttered, the embarrassment creeping into your cheeks.
“Come, walk with me.” He gestured down the long aisle, and you fell into step beside him, your heart racing as you moved past the rows of empty pews. The church felt different now, as if it were just the two of you in a sacred, intimate space.
For a few moments, silence enveloped you both. The quiet was comfortable, yet heavy with anticipation. Then, Father Charlie broke the stillness. “I don’t mean to rush you, but why did you wish to speak with me?” His voice was gentle, with a hint of curiosity.
You hesitated, the words caught in your throat, feeling more vulnerable than ever. “I—um…” The embarrassment was suffocating.
“It’s alright. No need to rush. Take your time,” he encouraged, his gaze unwavering, offering a safe harbor in the storm of your thoughts.
Taking a deep breath, you tried to steady your racing heart. “Well, I’ve been having some... inadequate thoughts about certain things... and aspects of my life. I’ve tried to pray about it, but it doesn’t seem to help.” The confession spilled out, the weight of guilt and confusion pressing heavily on your chest.
Father Charlie nodded, his expression one of understanding. “That is understandable. Sometimes it is hard for us to connect with the Lord. Temptation is not an easy thing to deal with.” He paused, a shadow crossing his features as if battling something within himself.
“And resisting sin is certainly…” He faltered, the words hanging in the air, unfinished.
“Perhaps coming to a confessional could help?” he suggested, tilting his head slightly, his eyes glinting with a mix of warmth and something else—something deeper.
The thought of confession made your stomach churn, but you felt drawn to him, the connection between you sparking with unexpected intensity. “I don’t know if that’s what I need…” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath.
“Sometimes, sharing our burdens can lighten the load we carry. It’s a safe space, a chance to speak freely. I’m here for you,” he assured, his tone steady and inviting.
You looked up at him, caught in the sincerity of his gaze. “It just feels... wrong, you know? I’ve been trying so hard to be the perfect daughter, the perfect Christian. But I keep failing.”
A flicker of something akin to sympathy crossed his features. “It’s not about perfection, Y/N. We all have our struggles. It’s part of being human. What matters is the intention behind our actions and the effort to seek forgiveness.”
His words resonated within you, echoing the very truths you had been grappling with. “But what if my intentions are... inappropriate?” you confessed, your voice trembling slightly.
Father Charlie stepped a bit closer, his presence enveloping you like a warm embrace. “We all have thoughts that we may not be proud of. It’s what we do with those thoughts that defines us. Have you spoken to anyone about this before?”
You shook your head, feeling exposed. “No, I’ve kept it all inside. I’m afraid of what they might think—especially my mother.”
“Your mother may not understand, but that doesn’t mean you should suffer in silence. You deserve to express your feelings.” His voice was firm, yet tender, grounding you in the moment.
“Do you really think so?” you asked, searching his eyes for reassurance.
“I know so,” he replied, a soft smile breaking across his face. “You are not alone. I’m here, and I’m listening.”
A warmth blossomed in your chest at his words, filling the void of loneliness that had settled within you for so long. “Thank you, Father Charlie,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.
He chuckled softly, a sound that wrapped around you like a comforting blanket. “It’s my calling to help. You’re brave for reaching out; that’s a step in the right direction.”
You took a moment to gather your thoughts, the weight of your worries still pressing down but feeling a little lighter. “I just wish I could find a way to... reconcile what I feel with my faith.”
Father Charlie nodded, his expression serious yet encouraging. “That’s a journey many embark on, and it’s not always straightforward. But I believe that through honesty—both with yourself and with God—you can find a path that feels right for you.”
His words hung in the air, resonating within you. “But how do I begin?”
“Perhaps we can start with confession. It’s a way to unburden yourself—an opportunity to speak openly without fear of judgment. I would be honored to guide you through it.”
The thought sent a shiver down your spine, both thrilling and terrifying. “I’ve never done that before,” you admitted, your voice trembling slightly.
“It’s perfectly alright. Everyone starts somewhere. Just remember, it’s a safe space,” he reassured, his eyes locked onto yours, filled with an intensity that made your heart race.
You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of the decision pressing down on you. “Okay... I’ll think about it.”
Father Charlie’s smile widened, a genuine warmth emanating from him. “That’s all I ask. Just take your time.”
You felt a sudden rush of emotions, a mixture of gratitude, fear, and something akin to hope. “Thank you, Father. For listening, for understanding.”
“It’s my pleasure, Y/N,” he replied softly. “Remember, you are not alone in this.”
The moment felt suspended in time, an electric charge hanging in the air between you. You were acutely aware of his presence, the way he seemed to draw you in, making the world outside fade away.
But reality came crashing back as you glanced toward the church doors, where the shadows of your parents loomed. “I should go,” you said reluctantly, the weight of the outside world pressing back in.
“Of course,” he said, his tone understanding, yet a hint of disappointment lingered in his eyes.
As you turned to leave, you felt a sudden urge to say more, to linger in that moment just a little longer. “Father Charlie?”
“Yes?” He looked at you, his expression expectant.
“Can I—can I come back and talk to you again?”
“Anytime, Y/N. My door is always open for you.”
You nodded, a small smile breaking through the uncertainty. “Thank you.”
With one last glance, you stepped toward the heavy doors, your heart racing with the thrill of what you had just shared. As you pushed them open, the sunlight flooded in, illuminating the path ahead.
“See you soon, Y/N,” Father Charlie called after you, his voice wrapping around you like a promise.
You took a deep breath, feeling lighter as you stepped outside, the echoes of your conversation lingering in your mind. The conflict within you still simmered, but for the first time in a long while, you felt a spark of hope.
As you made your way to the car, your mother’s cold gaze met yours, but you held your head high. You were beginning to understand that seeking guidance, even from a handsome priest who stirred feelings you never knew you could possess, was a step toward finding your own truth. And perhaps, just perhaps, you were on the brink of discovering a deeper connection to both your faith and yourself.
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© COPYRIGHT BELQVA 2024
SHARING THIS, ANY OF MY OTHER WORKS OR A TRANSLATION OF THEM WITHOUT CONSENT ON THIS OR ANY OTHER PLATFORM IS STRICTLY FORBIDDEN !!!
THE PLOT OF GROTESQUERIE OR ANY OF THE CHARACTERS EXCEPT FOR THE ONES I CREATED DO NOT BELONG TO ME THIS IS JUST A WORK OF FANFICTION !!!
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cherienymphe · 11 months ago
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Teenage Dirtbag IV (JJ Maybank x Reader x Rafe Cameron)
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Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, abusive relationship, domestic violence, violence (+ gun violence), gun kink, dacryphilia, attempted murder, mentions of blood, public sex, jealousy, manipulation, infidelity, underage drinking, drug use, canon ages, kook!reader
➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | ➥ divider by @firefly-graphics
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➥ series masterlist
summary: You’re charmingly spoiled. You’re too kind for your own good. You’re the princess of Figure 8 …and you’re way out of JJ Maybank’s league, but when he realizes that Rafe Cameron’s pride and joy is actually a bruised and battered damsel, he’s determined to save you.
Your rescue just comes with a price.
🎄 ༺𝓜𝓮𝓻𝓻𝔂༻༺𝓒𝓱𝓻𝓲𝓼𝓽𝓶𝓪𝓼༻🎄
~
“Oh! Well, aren’t those pretty?”
Your mother’s voice pulled your attention away from the flowers in front of you, throwing her a small smile as she neared you to admire them. You gave her the card when she eyed it, and you watched her smile grow, a fond chuckle escaping her.
“That’s sweet,” she praised. “Is Rafe coming by later?”
It seemed like such a silly question because you and Rafe saw each other almost every day, and your mother knew it.
“Yeah,” you sighed, sitting at the island and fingering a red petal. “He’s doing something for Ward, but he’s coming straight over when he’s done.”
She hummed, and you heard her fussing around in the drawers looking for something. Your gaze was glued to a rose, noting that Rafe got you red this time—your favorite—and you swallowed. It was always the same. Rafe would hurt you so bad that he felt compelled to make it up to you, the flowers would be delivered to your doorstep, your parents would gush, and you’d forgive him with a smile…and then the cycle would repeat.
You plucked a petal, rolling and squashing it between your fingers.
“It’s about time he starts getting prepped on all the family business, isn’t it?”
You glanced up as she took out a pan, her gaze briefly meeting yours.
“Yeah, I guess so. Ward has been asking him to do more things lately, and I know it’s usually work related, so…” you shrugged. “Only a matter of time.”
She seemed satisfied with that answer.
“Good,” she firmly said with a nod. “He can’t provide for you on daddy’s money forever.”
She chuckled to herself, but you could only swallow down bile.
“Rafe is upstanding and all of those things we want for you, but he needs to learn to make money on his own. We’ll never give him our blessing otherwise.”
Again, you said nothing, only looking at the stains on your fingers. Your entire volatile future being mapped out for you should’ve scared you beyond reason, and it sometimes it did, but in this moment, you only felt a numbness that was all too familiar. It all just felt so inevitable, so you didn’t see any sense in fighting it. With a sigh, you stood.
“I’m going to take these up to my room.”
“Put them on the table by your window, so they can get good sunlight,” she threw over her shoulder.
After doing what your mother advised, you turned to your mirror, intently staring at the face in the reflection. The fading bruise on your cheek was nowhere to be found under your makeup, and you were relieved that the same could be said for your neck. A deep inhale had your stomach aching only a tad, and you told yourself that Epsom salt baths could only do so much.
You rolled your eyes, lips pursing at the thought of JJ Maybank.
Naturally, you knew that this wasn’t really his fault. If Rafe were a normal boyfriend, you wouldn’t be covering up bruises with makeup and long-sleeved shirts in the house you’d rather not wear. You knew that Rafe didn’t actually need a reason and that no one could push him to do anything he didn’t want to do. Rafe was never the kind of guy to do anything he didn’t want to do. However, with all of that being said…
You really didn’t like JJ Maybank.
Some part of you knew that Rafe must have provoked him. You knew your boyfriend well, so you knew that without a doubt, but none of that changed the fact that you still had ugly discoloration from where Rafe had pushed you into his dresser. None of that changed the fact that JJ was the catalyst. Yeah, you probably shouldn’t have talked to him anyway, but you’d only been trying to be nice.
Trying to do the right thing.
You were pulled from your thoughts by the sound of the doorbell, and knowing that Rafe never rang it, you didn’t give it much thought. At least until you heard your mother calling your name moments later, and you were forced to descend the stairs in confusion. That confusion wasn’t eased in the slightest when you came face to face with Sarah.
She looked sheepish while your mother only smiled.
“Sarah’s here for you. I offered her something to eat, but she’s insistent that she isn’t staying long,” your mother said, briefly touching the other girl’s arm. “You tell Rose to call me. I have a bone to pick with her.”
They both chuckled—obvious that your mother was teasing—and you watched her disappear into the kitchen before resting your gaze on the blonde before you.
“I’m going to get something to eat at The Wreck. You want to come with me?”
You swallowed a sigh, glancing away and folding your arms over your chest. You didn’t know where this desire for a budding friendship came from, and you didn’t know how to feel about it. You and Sarah had only ever been friendly, and considering the company she kept, you’d had no desire for anything more. Being friends with Sarah just felt like a recipe for disaster.
“Sarah…”
She spoke up before you could, huffing and stepping towards you.
“I think Rafe treats you like shit,” she admitted, making sure her voice didn’t carry. “I know you love him and see something in him the rest of us don’t, but everything about you just seems wrapped up in him and…he seems very happy to keep things that way.”
You pressed your lips together, eyeing her.
“I don’t like it, and considering I don’t have much say, I figure the best I can do is be your friend. It’ll just make me feel better to know you have someone other than Rafe.”
Her lips turned up as she said his name, crossing her own arms over her chest.
“I’ve thought this for a while, by the way, and I just…” she shifted her feet, shrugging. “I don’t know. I just can’t take it anymore.”
With a sigh, you dropped your arms, and you knew that Sarah could tell what you were going to say.
“Come on! It’s lunch at The Wreck. We won’t be going all the way to Charlotte—Rafe will know where you are. He’s caught up with our dad, anyway, and they’re probably not going to be done until this evening,” she practically pleaded.
It was tempting, you had to admit, even if it did make you feel a little pathetic.
“I don’t know. I’d have to call Rafe and-.”
“You’d have to call Rafe, are you serious?” she scoffed before reaching for her own phone, and you reached for her. “I’m calling him.”
Your eyes widened.
“Sarah…”
Rafe’s tone could be heard even through the phone when he answered, and you felt your heart race.
“I wanna go to lunch with your girlfriend, and since you’re so uptight about knowing where she is at all times and who she’s with…”
The other girl trailed off as he spoke.
“Rafe, you’re stuck with dad for most of the day! I want to go eat, and I want her to come with me… Yes, just me,” she threw you a look at that to which you only looked away. “God, you’re so crazy, you literally treat her like a damn puppy.”
She shoved the phone at you, and understanding what was happening, you sighed.
“Hey,” you softly said once her phone was to your ear. “She just showed up here, Rafe and…”
“She said it’s going to be the two of you.”
You could tell by his tone that he wasn’t thrilled, right now, but you also knew it wasn’t just from Sarah and her antics. Rafe felt cornered. It wouldn’t look good for him to forbid you from going, and if he convinced you to give Sarah some piss poor excuse, she’d likely just ignore it. There wasn’t much you and Rafe agreed on, but you did admit that Sarah Cameron often got her way.
You heard Rafe mutter under his breath, and you didn’t doubt he was cursing Sarah’s name.
“I don’t see why she’s hellbent on butting into your life all of a sudden…”
His tone didn’t make you enthusiastic, and when your eyes met Sarah’s, they looked hopeful. You didn’t really understand why Sarah was taking so much interest in befriending you. You heard her reasoning, of course, but this was new territory, and you didn’t know how to handle it. However, you decided that it didn’t matter. Your boyfriend’s sister wanted to have lunch with you, and if it would satisfy her then so be it.
Pulling your lip between your teeth, you told Rafe something you knew he’d like to hear.
“While I have you, I wanted to thank you for the flowers.”
You heard him exhale, and you didn’t need to be with him to know the look on his face. It was the look he often wore whenever he brought you flowers—a mix of smugness and triumph with that small smirk dancing along his lips. Rafe cared about being seen as the perfect boyfriend, but he also cared about your complicity just as much. If he could placate you after a really bad fight, then he could prevent the rare backlash.
The last time you’d threatened to leave Rafe after one of the worser fights was half a year ago. The bouquet he’d given you then hadn’t meant all that much to you when you threw them on the floor. It hadn’t ended the way you wanted to but instead in tears and Rafe convincing you that you were just upset and needed to cool down. He liked to avoid that if he could.
“I wasn’t expecting red, and I was just really happy to see that. It made me feel a lot better,” you told him.
Rafe was silent for a few moments before sighing, albeit with an annoyed lilt. Your gaze met Sarah’s again just as he spoke.
“Just for a little bit. Not too long because I could finish up early with my dad, so…”
“No, yeah, we won’t be long,” you assured him. “It’s just going to be me and Sarah.”
“Yeah, that’s what she said. Let’s hope it stays that way,” he told you.
His tone was clipped, and although he didn’t say it, you knew that there was a silent addition to that statement.
For your sake.
With a nod and a soft goodbye, you gave Sarah her phone back. Her face was expectant, and when you told her you needed to get your jacket, she beamed.
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Sarah had a pout on her face as she played with one of her fries, shaking her head.
“I just don’t get it,” she mumbled. “What do you see in him?”
The drive to The Wreck was far from long and had mostly been filled with awkward small talk. You couldn’t recall a time you’d ever been alone with Sarah for this long, let alone long enough to have several conversations. It was such an odd thought considering you’d been dating Rafe for two years. The more the minutes went by though, the easier the conversation seemed to flow.
However, you now found yourself in the middle of lunch and on a topic you felt was inevitable, to be honest.
Sarah’s gaze was questioning, and you struggled to come up with an acceptable answer. You couldn’t very well tell her that her brother was actually an abusive rapist who terrified you beyond belief. You couldn’t tell her that he’d threatened to kill you on several occasions. It wasn’t possible to tell her that, in truth, you saw nothing worthwhile in Rafe, and you’d merely accepted your future with him.
Instead, you managed to think back to the very beginning of your relationship when you actually loved him.
“He knows what he wants, and I like that…”
It was a trait you’d admired in him once, feeling flattered by how boldly he’d asked you out. Those were the days when you looked forward to seeing Rafe and whatever gift he had for you and whatever date he had planned. That was a time when you’d literally fall asleep on the phone with him, and these days you would be relieved if you could go several hours without even hearing his voice.
“He’s also very generous, and he looks out for me, and he loves being around me. He’s just…so happy when we’re together.”
Everything that came out of your mouth was no longer applicable to your boyfriend, but at one point in time it had been. Without realizing it, your face fell, and you picked at your food. Sarah had a thoughtful look on her face as she mulled over your words before taking a sip of her lemonade.
“Looks out for you,” she repeated. “I guess that’s one way of putting it.”
You threw her a look, and she merely shrugged, throwing her hands up.
“I’m just saying! He treats you like he doesn’t want anybody to come near you,” she said, disgusted. “His own sister wants to hang out with you, and you needed to call him for that? That doesn’t sound crazy to you?”
The frown on her face was deep, and you only shrugged.
“You know what he’s like Sarah. You know how…paranoid he can get.”
“Yeah, paranoid that you might actually prefer being in someone else’s company instead,” she scoffed.
You merely sent her a small smile, thinking that she had no idea of the half of it. Before the conversation could continue, two familiar faces walked into the restaurant, and you felt your heart sink. Sarah seemed excited to see her friends, of course, while you, on the other hand, only had an aching desire to leave.
When your eyes met a slowly increasingly familiar blue pair, you couldn’t stop your frown.
You glanced away, and when Pope greeted you, you only sent him a smile in return. Telling yourself that you had the worst luck, you leaned over to reach for your purse. Sarah was talking to the two of them, but when she heard the sound of your keys, the conversation paused.
“I think I should go,” you answered the silent question on her face.
You hated the way it fell.
“We haven’t even been here an hour. Do…?” she trailed off glancing at Pope and JJ. “I know that it’s supposed to be just the two of us, but Rafe won’t know.”
“Sarah,” your tone said it all, and she stood up with you when you went to pay for your food.
“Stay,” she practically begged. “Rafe isn’t here to be his normal asshole self, and you know I won’t tell.”
“It’s not you I’m worried about,” you mumbled, craning your neck for either Mr. or Mrs. Carrera.
By the sound of her sigh, you had a feeling she’d witnessed JJ’s conversation with Rafe that day in their house.
“JJ didn’t mean much by that. He was just stooping to Rafe’s level, wanted to piss him off.”
“Well, you can tell him it worked,” you said, throwing her a tight smile.
Her brows drew together, and she ran her eyes over you, concerned.
“What, was Rafe mad at you for that?”
“What do you think, Sarah?” you slowly wondered, fully facing her.
You could see on her face that she hadn’t considered that possibility, and her shoulders sagged.
“I’m sorry,” she apologized. “I’m sure JJ wouldn’t have said anything if he’d known it was going to come back on you. I’ll talk to him, just please stay.”
You touched your forehead, glancing over her shoulder and quickly looking away when your eyes met the man in question’s.
“They’re your friends, not mine. I really should go…”
She perked up.
“Well, they don’t have to just be my friends-.”
“No, Sarah. I can’t be friends with them-.”
“Why, because of Rafe?” she incredulously wondered. “Do you hear how crazy that sounds?”
You ignored her when the familiar woman came from the back, quickly paying for your meals. When you were done, you only gave Sarah an even look, grabbing your purse.
“You know what your brother is like. Pope can take you home, right?”
You could see on her face that she wanted to argue this some more, a deep frown on her face, but you witnessed the decision to save it for another time. You weren’t stupid enough to think she was going to let this go. She eyed you.
“We’re probably going to John B.’s later, so yeah. I can leave with them.”
Preferring to ignore her mood, you smiled and thanked her for the invite. You said goodbye to Pope and JJ on your way out, thinking of just how shitty your luck was. You’d never put it past Rafe to drop in on you, and you didn’t want to imagine how things would be if he witnessed you having lunch with anyone other than Sarah…but especially Pope and JJ. You were just at your car when you heard hurried footsteps behind you, and you tensed at the sound of your name.
Unfortunately, the face matched the voice when you turned around.
JJ wasn’t close to you, but he was close enough to where you leaned against your car in an effort to put space between you. If he noticed, he said nothing, and you watched him run his hand through his blond locks. You didn’t know what he wanted and considering the last result of a conversation with him, you warily eyed him.
“Look, Sarah told me that Rafe was mad at you about what I said,” he sounded apologetic. “I didn’t know that.”
“Why? You knew it would piss him off. That’s why you said it.”
He frowned, glancing away.
“Yeah, but I didn’t think…”
“At the very best you knew it would cause conflict between us. Again…that’s why you said it,” you told him.
JJ stared at you, and you watched him blink, tilting his head.
“Do you ever wonder why you have a boyfriend who loses his shit anytime you even so much as look at another man?”
You scoffed.
“Don’t try to turn this around-!”
“I mean, it’s the truth. You felt bad, you apologized, and call me crazy, but I don’t think that’s something he should get mad at you for,” he casually said with a shrug.
“Well, it’s a good thing you don’t get paid to think.”
You watched his brows raise in shock at your words, a budding smile on his lips. JJ crossed his arms over his chest, eyeing you from head to toe, and you felt something twist in your gut at his perusal.
“Are you always this feisty or is that privilege just reserved for me?”
Rolling your eyes, you turned to open your door when he spoke again.
“Look, I’m sorry, alright? I mean that…”
You hesitated, your gaze focused on your window. You stared at his reflection in it.
“I won’t say anything next time. Ever again, actually.”
With a resigned sigh, you accepted his apology, opening your door.
“There won’t be a next time,” you told him, glancing at him as you slid inside. “We’re not friends, JJ, and we’ll never be. Stop talking to me, I mean it.”
Your words held conviction, but you felt like JJ didn’t take them seriously. He only eyed you, slowly nodding as you closed your door. Resisting the urge to glance at him again, you drove off, only feeling relief the closer you got to your house.
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It was the middle of the night when you found yourself in the Camerons’ kitchen, getting something to drink because sleep was evading you. You knew that you couldn’t be gone for long, no telling when Rafe would notice the lack of body heat next to him. The rest of the house was asleep, and Sarah was with John B.
…and so that was why you were startled by the front door opening.
You could tell they were trying to be quiet, but hushed tones and the shuffle of feet was loud to anyone who was awake—you. Blinking, and filled with a mix of curiosity and concern, you made your way to the kitchen entrance. It was dark, but not dark enough to make the three figures hard to make out. When you turned on the light, Sarah actually jumped in shock.
You could tell that she hadn’t expected anyone to be up, but even as she approached you, it wasn’t her nor John B. you were focused on. The blond with them looked almost unrecognizable to you, and you sharply inhaled at the sight of him. He was barely able to stand—no matter how much he tried to—and you could only pull your eyes away when Sarah whispered your name.
“I’m just here to use our first aid kit,” she told you, trying to explain. “John B. doesn’t have shit at his house, and Kie’s parents are so anal about JJ—any of her friends besides me, really.”
Once you gathered your thoughts, you blinked at her, shaking your head.
“It’s your house, Sarah. You don’t have to explain yourself to me,” you assured her.
“I know, but I’d just really rather not wake anyone up…and it’s also not something I feel like explaining to anyone.”
She glanced over her shoulder, giving John B. a nod, and you watched him pull JJ towards the downstairs guest bathroom. Your lips parted, and you looked at Sarah again.
“Is he going to be okay?”
Sarah pressed her lips together, and when she rolled her eyes, you could see the irritation and anger on her features.
“He always is,” she snidely replied.
At your concerned and questioning look, her face fell some.
“It’s nothing he hasn’t dealt with before,” she finally admitted. “His dad…”
Sarah trailed off with a shrug, and you swallowed.
“Oh,” was all you said, your heart sinking. “I’d heard things, but…I didn’t know it was that bad.”
“I just don’t get why he doesn’t go live with John B. or something,” she mumbled, crossing her arms over her chest. “Just because Luke is family…”
She sneered the man’s name, and you felt your frown deepen.
“It’s probably not that simple.”
At the look she gave you, you hurried to continue.
“I just mean it’s probably not that black and white for JJ. No one likes staying anywhere that’s bad for them, but maybe there’s a sense of loyalty he can’t shake yet,” you explained. “If he left his house for good, he just might end up feeling guilty.”
Sarah thought that over, eyeing you in the process.
“Maybe. That doesn’t make it any easier to witness this time and time again,” she sighed.
You didn’t say anything to that, unsure of what to say. When she left to join John B. in assisting their friend, you weren’t keen on retreating to Rafe’s bedroom just yet. You weren’t some professional psychologist, but you didn’t need to be to know why the sight of JJ and the confirmation of his volatile home life affected you so much.
The sight of his bloody and bruised face was unfortunately reminiscent for you.
Your feet made the decision for you, grabbing another glass of water before rummaging in your purse for some painkillers. Sarah was in the hall when you walked around the corner, and she straightened at the sight of you. The bathroom door was cracked, but John B.’s voice carried as he talked to JJ.
“Here, give him these.”
She took the pills and water with a small smile, thanking you. The moment was interrupted by JJ’s tone.
“I can stand just fine,” he sighed. “Just give me a minute…”
John B.’s protest was clear, but you surmised that JJ waved him off, getting his way when the door swung open. The brunette was briefly thrown by the sight of you before acknowledging you, making his way outside. The sound of your name in the air got JJ’s attention, and you wondered just how out of it he’d been to only just now realize you were up.
“Here. Y/N brought these for you,” Sarah told him, voice stern as she demanded he take them.
Getting the hint that he wanted a moment to himself, Sarah took a step back.
“Make sure he takes those,” she told you before going to join her boyfriend.
Truthfully, Rafe was the last thing on your mind as you looked at JJ. Now that his face was clean, he didn’t look as bad, but the bruising and cut on his lip still made you frown. You and he were so far from friends, so standing in the hallway while he leaned one hand on the sink started to feel awkward. You were just about to remind him of the pills and leave when he spoke.
“It’s the middle of the night.”
The observation wasn’t the most astute, and you frowned in confusion. When he swung his head to face you, straightening with difficulty, you didn’t miss the way his blue eyes ran along your face.
“It’s the middle of the night,” he repeated. “…and your face is caked in makeup. Is that one of Rafe’s conditions? Remain perfect at all times?”
You pressed your lips together as he popped the painkillers, swallowing them down with the entire glass of water. You couldn’t very well tell him that you’d spent fifteen minutes covering the bruises on your cheek and neck before coming down on the off chance that you ran into a Cameron that wasn’t Rafe.
“I forgot to wash my face,” was your simple answer.
Your tone was light, unconvincing, and you could tell that JJ didn’t believe you. You didn’t know how, but something about the glint in his eye told you so.
“I’m sorry,” you finally said. “About your dad.”
The blond moved to lean against the doorjamb, staring at you.
“Don’t be. I’m used to it.”
“You shouldn’t be,” you argued.
“Yeah, well, we’re both used to a lot of things we shouldn’t be,” he said, making you bristle. “I should’ve known better. After all…I know what he’s like.”
You didn’t appreciate having your own words thrown back in your face, doubly so because JJ didn’t realize just how much it messed with you. It was funny. When you told him that about Rafe, it made sense to you. That was how you maneuvered around Rafe and so you just wanted JJ to learn to maneuver around him the same way if he wanted to avoid his temper.
Now, however, hearing him repeat that about his own father just made you feel…nauseated.
“That’s not an excuse-.”
“Isn’t it?” JJ wondered, moving closer.
He held your gaze, and the look in his eyes had you biting the inside of your cheek. You couldn’t stop your frown, nostrils flaring at the words he silently threw at you. He didn’t say them, but he didn’t need to.
“That’s different,” you argued.
JJ frowned, head tilted in confusion.
“How so? My dad’s an asshole, Rafe’s an asshole,” he drawled. “Now, Rafe may not be a physically abusive asshole, but walking on tippy toes around him just to navigate his shitty personality isn’t exactly healthy.”
You stumbled back when JJ took another step towards you, lips parting when he cut you off.
“You can’t even have lunch with his sister without the fear of some guy that isn’t Rafe crashing the date…because you know he would just fly off the handle.”
You swallowed down your anger and annoyance at how right he was, glancing away with a huff.
“You don’t know anything about my relationship.”
“I know enough,” he fired back with a smirk.
When your back grazed the wall, it was then that you realized just how close he was. The bruising on his face looked so much scarier this close, and your eyes traced the blood on his lip. Your heartbeat was uneven at his close proximity, and you pressed yourself further into the wall. JJ’s eyes flitted between your own, and when you swallowed, they zeroed in on the action, gaze lingering on your throat.
“I know that if I kissed you, right now…” you sharply inhaled at that. “You wouldn’t tell Rafe…and not because you don’t want to hurt him…”
You slapped his hand way when it reached for your chin.
“…but because you’re fucking terrified of him.”
You furiously blinked, struggling to respond to that.
“You’re an asshole,” was all you could muster up with a frown, voice trembling.
JJ only softly chuckled to himself, nodding.
“Assholes are your type, so that doesn’t sting the same coming from you.”
Pushing your way out from in between him and the wall, you stomped away. You refused to look at him when he thanked you for the drugs, fighting to ignore the goosebumps along your arms underneath Rafe’s shirt.
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flowerandblood · 4 months ago
Text
The Price of Pride (2/?)
[ canon • Aemond x Royce • female ]
[ warnings: the angst, sexual tension, imprisonment, physical abuse, abuse of power, violence, panic attack ]
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[ description: Prince Aemond finds a solution to the disproportion in the number of dragons between Dragonstone and King's Landing: he decides to find dragon blood and, like his half-sister, train dragon riders. He takes as his target the daughter of Daemon Targaryen and Rhea Royce, whom he abducts and imprisons in the Red Keep. Slow burn, darkish, insolent, arrogant Aemond. I have combined several requests here: (dragon blood female & prisoner female). ]
* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *
Next chapters: Masterlist
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"Rȳbās." She heard her father's voice in her memories. "Repeat."
"Ribās." She mumbled, rocking her small, short legs as she sat on his knee, looking at the book in which were written the commands by which dragon riders could communicate with their dragons and soar through the skies.
She had only seen Caraxes from afar and always squealed with joy at the sight of him.
It meant she would see her father.
"No." Her father sighed, twisting in his seat. "Rȳbās. Again."
"Ribās." She repeated, this time confident that she had said the word correctly.
Her father rose and set her down on the ground, closing the book, throwing it on the table, her body instantly moving to follow him in a subconscious reflex, a cry escaping from her throat as it always did when she failed to please him, and he walked away.
"No. No, let me try again. Ribās. Ribās. Ribās." She wailed after him, choking on her own tears, watching his silhouette disappear into the depths of the corridor, his short white hair.
She couldn't remember his face.
When her mother's body was found among the hills away from the fortress, voices were raised by people who said that they had seen Caraxes in the skies that same day. She knew that her mother would not have thrown herself off the precipice, and she understood that in doing so her father had freed himself from them once and for all.
She felt satisfaction at the thought that his second wife had given him only daughters.
The gods had punished him.
He had no heir.
She didn't remember her mother's face either, but perhaps that was because she didn't want to recall her disappointment – she knew that she didn't want to carry his child, that she abhorred him, and yet she had been forced to give birth to his daughter.
She knew she should not have been born, and yet she existed.
She decided to pretend that she was the child of ordinary lords, giving up the right to inherit Runestone to one of her cousins in return for being allowed to stay in the fortress. Royce's family, although rather stodgy in their dealings, showed her much care and support – she couldn't say she lacked anything, and her life was peaceful as long as King Viserys lived.
And then it happened.
Two men burst into her chamber, pressing a cloth soaked in some foul-smelling liquid to her mouth which made her lose consciousness and she only woke up in a carriage that was closed on both sides.
For a moment she naively believed that her father had done it.
That he wanted her on his side in the battle for power for his third wife, heir to the Iron Throne.
And then she noticed the emerging silhouette of King's Landing in the distance.
She had only heard of this place from stories: the great Red Keep towering over the entire city and harbour, sunshine and cloudless skies all around it.
She wanted to laugh at the thought that one of her father's opponents had thought they would be able to pact with him because of her.
However, it turned out that she was mistaken once again.
Her one-eyed cousin was like a statue, his jaw drawn and sharply pointed, adding even more severity to his impassive, stony expression. He was proud and vain, she thought at once, seeing the way he stood, erect and sure, one hand holding a torch, the other placed behind his back, sword and dagger strapped to his belt.
Rider of the greatest dragon in the world.
"Do you know who I am, woman?" He asked, and she struggled not to smile, hearing his forced pretentiousness, the choice of his words such as to instantly degrade her.
Of course she knew.
His black eye patch betrayed him.
"It's hard not to guess." She replied.
His pupil narrowed in frustration, his tongue ran over his lower lip in some subconscious reflex.
He didn't like being spoken to like that.
When he was not shown respect.
When he was not feared.
He was weak, she thought.
"Do you understand why you're here?"
She sighed heavily, looking down at her fingers in boredom, feeling nothing but immense fatigue.
"Because of my father, I guess. You are wasting your time. I don't represent any value to him. He will not pact with you for my sake." She muttered reluctantly, wanting to let him know that whatever hopes he may have had of her were vain.
She looked at him surprised when he chuckled, turning his gaze away, staring at her a moment later with a look that made her feel discomfort in her stomach.
"You are mistaken. We need your blood." He hummed, as if he were speaking of the weather, something childishly simple and obvious.
She shook her head, looking at him in disbelief, not understanding what he expected of her.
Were they going to slit her veins?
If someone else drank it, would they be able to become a dragon rider?
"We will find one of the wild dragons hidden in the mountain caves and you will try to claim it. You will die, or you will succeed and join the war on our side." He said lightly, and for some reason she burst out laughing, horrified at how ridiculous his words were.
She was going to claim a dragon?
Were they really that desperate?
"I know nothing about dragons or their riders and have no desire to learn about them. This, I think, is something that is destined for those endowed by the gods with white hair. I have no intention of sacrificing myself for your family. Behead me or burn me, but spare me this farce." She said mockingly, looking away, recognising that this man had simply lost his mind.
She shuddered and rose from her knees when, a moment later, he opened the door of her cell and rushed in like an enraged bear, throwing his torch to the stone floor, his hand grabbing her neck, her head and body slamming against the wall making everything around her seem blurry for a moment.
"Do you think I'm asking you for your opinion? You will serve me, and you will serve me well, or I will burn not you, but all of the fucking Vale. Only dust and ashes will be left of the people you knew. Is that what you want, my Lady?" He scoffed, arching his full lips and eyebrows in a way as if he sympathised with her, however his gaze was blank, cold, mad, his breath heavy on her face, his chest rising and falling in rage.
She shook her head quickly, feeling his fingers dig into the skin of her neck even harder, making her unable to take a deeper breath despite the fact that she needed the air so badly.
Her head was spinning, his voice seeming to come to her from far away.
"So we have an agreement, as I understand it?" He whispered, leaning over her so that the tips of their noses were almost touching, towering over her to make her feel who had the power, who had the strength, who had the last word.
She merely nodded, breathing loudly through her wide-open mouth, a cold feeling of humiliation surging through her stomach.
"Mmm." He hummed and let her go. She fell to the ground, drawing in air loudly, clutching at her neck, feeling her heart begin to beat anew.
"You will be moved to one of the chambers. You will not lack anything. Serve me well and no more harm will befall you." He said calmly with a kind of threat from which a shiver ran down her spine.
Serve me well.
Whatever that was supposed to mean.
Indeed, true to his word, the guards came for her and she walked out of the smelly, dark cell where rats ran around to the upper floor of the Red Keep. The light blinded her and for a moment she could not see where she was going, but then, despite all her reluctance and trepidation, she marvelled for a moment at the rich, beautiful architecture of this castle.
If only she could have come here under different circumstances, at her father's side when she was a little child.
But her father was not here.
Instead, there was her cousin, exactly as self-obsessed as he was.
She thought with pain that they were just alike.
In the small chamber that had been assigned to her, the Queen Mother was waiting for her, accompanied by a knight with rather tanned skin: she thought he came from Dorne.
"My Lady. I ask you to forgive us for what inconvenience you have suffered. I place my old gowns and two of my servants at your disposal." She said, looking her straight in the face with her big, warm brown eyes, plucking at the cuticles around her fingernails in some involuntary, nervous reflex.
She lowered her gaze, silently acknowledging that she had nothing to say to any of them.
"This is the Queen speaking to you. Show respect." Said the knight, Queen Alicent however rebuked him immediately.
"I do not recall allowing you to speak, Ser Criston."
The man looked away and fell silent. The Queen sighed, closed her eyes and swallowed hard, as if she felt shame looking at her.
"Rest." She said simply and left, immediately followed by Ser Criston with a clatter of his silver, shining armour.
She was left alone.
She felt that she needed a bath, tired, sweaty, soaked in the smell of the disgusting cellar they were holding her in – she called one of the servants to bring a tub to her chamber and fill it with warm water.
She wondered, watching these young girls doing their chores, whether she might try to escape, seeing that they had left the door open, but decided that it was pointless.
Even if she did escape, they would find her and bring her here again, and Prince Aemond would burn the Vale.
She lowered her gaze, recognising that she had neither the strength nor the will to stand up.
She was empty inside, she thought, and he could fill her with whatever he wanted.
With his ideas, his desires, his demands.
As she sank into the pleasantly warm water scented with oils of field flowers, she felt better. Her muscles relaxed and she leaned her head back, closing her eyes, deciding to calmly analyse the situation she was in.
Since they were so desperate to abduct her, it meant that her father and Princess Rhaenyra had the upper hand over them.
She was also sure that her cousin, Lord Royce, had already sent a raven to Dragonstone with the word that she had been imprisoned, and since the informations was spreading through the Kingdom like the wind, she was sure that Daemon would be furious.
Would he try to contact her?
She sighed, recognising that she didn't want that.
Because of how much she despised him, even though she was a Targaryen, she used her mother's name.
Royce.
She wanted nothing to do with any of them, but it seemed to her that Prince Aemond was truly mad and that in his rage he really could set off on his mighty dragon to burn and destroy if she betrayed him.
She didn't want to test how mad the Targaryens could really be.
After all, they were bedding their own siblings.
She sighed when one of the servants came in, saying that she had been summoned by the King, who wanted to see her in person. She had chosen a gown most similar to the ones she had worn in Runestone, but as soon as one of the girls wanted to touch her hair she pulled away, feeling an unpleasant shudder.
"No. I'll do it myself." She said, taking a comb in her hand, brushing out strand after strand.
A woman could only wear her hair loose in the privacy of her chamber, for it was a sign of her freedom but also of chaos, where in the world of men there always had to be order.
She decided she didn't care about that.
She was horrified by how many people were sitting in the chamber she had been led to – at the table, she understood, sat the Lords, Queen Widow, the King, and Prince Aemond, looking at her with a malicious grin.
He was proud of himself, she thought and let out a quiet breath, looking away, thinking they were all pathetic.
The King smiled broadly at the sight of her and nodded, as if someone had indeed given him a wonderful surprise.
"Come closer, cousin." He said lightly, so she took a reluctant few steps forward, wondering what she would hear this time.
"We are overjoyed by your presence, even though you were brought here under not very pleasant circumstances. I hope you will quickly forget about these … discomforts and support us in our cause. My brother is extremely eager to prepare you for this." He said as if what they had done to her was no great thing, a mere joke at which she should laugh along with him and willingly go to her death in dragon fire if it turned out that their plan would fail.
That's why she remained silent, recognising that the man sitting in front of her was an imbecile.
"Are you not glad to face your father? Did he not forget you and abandon you for so many years?" He continued, seeing the expression on her face, and she looked at him, feeling absolutely nothing.
"I have nothing to say to you, cousin. Do with me what you wish."
The men around her twisted uneasily in their seats, glancing at the King, clearly afraid of his reaction to her insolent words. King Aegon, however, leaned forward, looking at her intrigued.
"Our family has forgotten you. Left you the fuck knows where, motherless and fatherless. And I am deeply sorry for it."
She swallowed hard, letting the air out loud, feeling the pain in her chest at his words – this reaction of her own surprised her. Looking into his eyes, she thought in disbelief that while he was certainly a fool, the words he had spoken to her a moment ago were sincere.
The last thing she expected from him was sympathy, and it surprised her how much it hurt her.
"You may leave." He said, and she nodded and left, thinking with relief that just a moment longer and the King would have seen something in her gaze that she didn't want.
What she desired.
As long as they didn't know it, none of their threats could do anything to her.
The guards escorted her to her chamber and as they closed the door behind her, she simply threw herself on her bed, wondering if it had all just been a bad dream.
What if she died in the dragon fire?
Did she want to end her life without really experiencing anything?
She never wanted to be a wife or a mother, but she hoped to see something more, to find her own purpose, her own way, away from the dragon war.
Meanwhile, she found herself at the centre of it.
She knew that Prince Aemond would summon her – she could see it in his displeased expression after his brother's words. He did not like the fact that he was trying to besmirch and get close to her, his little toy – he had made it clear in his words that she was not to serve Aegon or the Kingdom, but him.
He had brought her here for himself, to spite her father, and she was to be what he desired.
What he had imagined in his head.
Very well, she thought.
When she walked into his chamber, he was sitting with his back to her; his room was much more spacious than hers, maps and books spread out on the table he was leaning over.
He was planning a war without his brother.
"Come here. Sit down." He said coldly, casting her one weary glance over his shoulder, going back to whatever it was he was preoccupied with before he summoned her.
She walked over to the table and sat down in the chair beside him with a quiet rustling of her gown – he hummed as he slid an open book towards her apparently on a page he cared for her to focus on.
"Can you read?" He asked, and she looked up at him, wondering if he had heard himself.
His gaze changed, suddenly frustrated and impatient so she just looked at the book and started reading, hearing what he was saying in between.
"The dragons understand the language of Old Valyria, and this is how the dragon riders communicate with them. You have to learn to speak the commands properly." He sighed, spreading out comfortably in his seat with his legs crossed, tilting his head back.
"Dohaerās means serve. Rȳbās means listen. These are the most important words, right next to Lykirī, which commands a dragon to remain calm. Repeat."
She felt a powerful, cold shiver run down her back, the memory of that evening, of her, sitting on his lap and his voice.
"Rȳbās." Said her father in her imagination. "Repeat."
She stared dully ahead feeling that she couldn't open her mouth, her throat squeezed tight, her breathing accelerated, heavy with the terror that possessed her, her heart pounding like mad in her chest.
He left because she couldn't say it properly, but after all, he hadn't even explained to her what she had done wrong. He didn't give her a chance to improve, disappointed that she wasn't what he wanted her to be.
Over the years, she kept asking herself the same question.
Did she really not deserve a second chance?
And then she saw darkness before her eyes, and her head hit something hard.
She dreamt that her father was holding her hand. She wasn't sure if it was a memory or her imagination, but she could smell his scent and was sure she heard his voice, though she was unable to open her eyes, her body burning with fever.
"Will she survive?"
"Only the gods know." The Maester replied.
Her father was silent for a moment, his fingers tightening on hers.
"Perhaps it will be better this way."
When she finally woke, the light blinded her. She squinted, closing her eyes, feeling that someone was indeed holding her hand – when she opened her eyelids again she saw Queen Alicent sitting beside her on her bed.
The gesture, the touch of her warm hand on hers was at once pleasurable, motherly, and at the same time uncomfortable – she was not her child, but a stranger, and to her it was an act filled with her guilt, her attempt to alleviate what they wanted to condemn her to.
"How do you feel, sweet girl?" She hummed, though she didn't understand what purpose this question was intended to serve.
Did she think that she would cry now in her arms like a fool, saying that she missed her mother and was afraid?
Even if that were true, she had no intention of confiding in the mother of two self-obsessed men, one worse than the other.
Did she blame herself sometimes for the way they were?
Queen Alicent let go of her hand and lowered her gaze, as if embarrassed by her silence, understanding what she must have been thinking about.
"My son, Aemond. He was such a sweet boy." She said in pain, shaking her head, biting her lower lip.
"After his nephew took his eye he sank into a sense of injustice. He says that Luke's death was an accident, but I don't know if I believe him. I don't recognise him anymore and I warn you that he's unpredictable." She whispered and looked at her, clearly thinking that her words would make any impression on her.
She, however, felt nothing.
"I know."
Prince Aemond circled around her bed like a predator, watching her vigilantly, pacing with his hands folded behind his back, listening to what the Maester was saying.
"The momentary weakness has passed, but she should not strain herself." He said, and the prince hummed under his breath, stopping at the height of her head, looking at him with satisfaction.
"She won't. Leave us alone."
She turned her head away from him, not feeling like listening to what he had to say to her.
"Daemon tried to teach you. Didn't he?" He asked haughtily, apparently convinced that he was right.
She just swallowed hard, feeling a squeeze in her throat at the thought that he wasn't wrong.
"I wouldn't call it teaching." She replied dispassionately, feeling that she was sinking deeper and deeper into the bedding, wanting to melt into one with it.
She shuddered as he leaned over her suddenly, his hands on both sides of her head resting on the pillow, strands of his long hair brushing her face.
"Is there really no desire for revenge in you? To prove him wrong by rejecting you? Don't you want him to curse the day he left you?" He asked, looking her straight in the eye.
He's changed tactics, she thought, wanting to get to her hidden frustrations, pain and disappointment now.
She smiled at his words, his lips twisted in a grimace of displeasure at the sight.
He was enraged.
"I don't care about him. However, I can see that for you the person of my father is very important. You are alike, you and him." She whispered, and he swallowed hard, something in his gaze extinguished, making his iris dark.
"Daemon is a challenge I welcome. I will face him if the need arises. I will not allow the bastard children of my sister-whore to sit on the Iron Throne." He said slowly, choosing each word carefully, as if he knew he needed not only her, but also her loyalty.
And for what reason would she remain by his side if the opportunity came for her to betray him?
"Do you want your brother to remain King?" She asked quietly, and his expression changed – his forehead cleared, his jaw relaxed into an expression that was strangely calm.
Silence.
They looked straight into each other's eyes, and with every second in which his mouth did not leave the confirmation her heart pounded harder and harder in her chest, her lips parted in a sigh of disbelief.
His lips parted too, his gaze grew misty, as if he felt arousal at the thought of what he saw in his head.
Himself on the Iron Throne.
"Serve me well and I will reward you. When the time comes." He whispered and, to her amazement, she felt an unfamiliar sensation between her thighs, a warmth and a pulsing, as if someone had tickled her there.
He rose with a smirk and moved towards the door, telling her that they would begin her training the next morning.
He had her riding attire prepared for her and arranged for her to meet him in the courtyard of the Red Keep. In order to be on time, she had to rise before dawn – by the time she left the gates of the fortress in the company of the guards, the sun was just rising lazily over the horizon.
Prince Aemond gave her one sharp glance before mounting his beautiful brown steed, nodding his head for her to do the same. She therefore climbed with lightness and ease onto the black mare standing just beside him and set off at a gallop after him.
She thought with amusement, feeling the wind in her hair, the front strands of which she had braided back, as he did, that she could easily try to escape with such a well-rested horse at her side, knowing her riding skills.
For the first time, however, she wondered why she should return there?
What kind of life awaited her in Runestone?
Certainly not death in flames, she thought with a smile, but for some reason she didn't fear that.
She would simply become dust and fly with the wind high into the sky.
The prince stopped suddenly, indicating to her with a raised hand to do the same, and jumped down from the saddle. She followed in his footsteps, sinking onto the soft dew-damp grass, trying to catch her breath after the physical exertion, looking around.
She wondered what they were doing among the glades and woods, until she felt the ground around them shake and something she thought was a hill began to slowly rise, a large eye similar to that of a lizard opened.
A dragon.
A dragon as big as a mountain.
"Lykirī, Vhagar." Said her rider, stepping closer to her, extending his hand to her.
Vhagar leaned towards him, apparently trying to understand what was happening, allowing him to touch her jaw – his hand seemed to her to be just the head of a needle compared to her huge body, her muzzle opened in an expression as if she was pleased to see him.
Her heart was pounding like mad, her mouth open wide in a quickened, excited breath.
"Come closer. Slowly, step by step." He called out to her, and she looked at him as if he had completely lost his mind.
Gods, she was so big.
She probably wouldn't even feel it in her throat if she swallowed her.
She felt her legs grow soft, her body quivering all over as she took an uncertain first step forward and then a second, Vhagar's gaze shifted lazily to her, her nostrils releasing the air loudly, enveloping her in warm steam.
She stopped, terrified, as the dragoness suddenly opened her maw, something red appeared in the distance of her throat, as if someone had lit a fire there.
"DAOR, VHAGAR! DAOR!" Exclaimed her rider, and in some act of despair and fear she shouted to her as if she were chastising a little child.
"Rȳbās!"
Vhagar froze motionless, as if confused, staring at her small silhouette standing before her.
"Rȳbās, Vhagar. Daor."
Vhagar closed her maw, a loud sigh escaping from her nostrils, which hit her and made her fall over, dropping to her knees.
She looked at him from a distance and saw that he was pale, his mouth open in a heavy, shuddering breath.
She didn't know why she started to laugh – why she grabbed her stomach, bent over and died of amusement and bitterness, thinking that her father had made a mistake, that he had wasted years of her life, had rejected her believing that she would never be able to do this.
She was panting, feeling her laughter turn to sobs, heavy tears of shame one by one began to run down her cheek onto the grass beneath her hands, her mouth wide open trying to catch air.
She did it, and he wasn't here.
She still remained a nobody, just as she had been before.
Playing with dragons didn't change anything.
She gasped as he grabbed her by the hair and lifted her head up with an aggressive motion of his hand, kneeling beside her, pointing at his dragoness lying right in front of them.
"Do you know what it is? Do you know how much I sacrificed to achieve it? This dragoness has seen Old Valyria, fought in wars when your great-grandparents were not yet in the world. You should fall to your knees before her, you fucking whore, not laugh." He hissed and pushed her forward so that she bent over, as if praying before a statue of a god.
She clasped her hands in the wet grass, panting all over, whooping with her tears, wondering how long she was supposed to last in this position, his fingers clenched in her hair, not allowing her to move away even a little.
"That's it. Show some fucking respect." He sneered, and she clenched her eyes shut, drifting her thoughts away to the pleasant scent of the forest around her, the singing of the birds, the sound of the wind.
She swallowed hard as his embrace eased, her heart thumping harder in her chest as his fingers ran through her smooth curls, sinking finally into the soft skin of the back of her neck.
Her lips parted in disbelief, wondering what he was actually doing, the familiar pulsing between her thighs told her that she was both terrified and aroused by this new, unfamiliar sensation.
She felt her lips swell and her nipples harden as his thumb stroked her skin, her thighs clenched involuntarily with her silent sigh.
He heard it and gasped, tightening his fingers in her hair again, leaning over her ear.
"This position suits you." He whispered and let her go with a firm tug, moving towards his dragoness, placing his hand on her jaw.
"Stand up and repeat everything again."
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h0ney-dames · 13 days ago
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🍕🍯Honey and guy angst 🍯🍕
There are a few outcomes a child with shitty parents can take, the quiet route or the loud route.
Guy took the loud route, his mother had always neglected him and his dad was never around enough, and when he was it was normally for about a day
Guy was promised all these great things from a man who couldnt even string together a sentance around his own son, Guy was practically self-sufficient by the time he was 7.
He was from a big family, he had to adapt, his parents populated like rabbits as he joked. His friends never found it funny but it was his way to cope.
His older sister moved out when she was 16, his older brother went off to the military to escape the house, and then it was just him and his sister
He did everything to try to keep her happy, but eventually, he had to move out for university…
Honey sometimes wishes they were neglected, sometimes wished their father wasn't around
Honey's family was abusive. They won't deny that, they used to, and they tried to anyway, they didn't have many people inquiring about the bruises along their back in the sports changing room, or people asking why they had always had long sleeves
When their father tried to slit their throat no one questioned them for missing for a week, or why they wore a black choker to school to hide the scar
Their mother was more the emotional abuser than their father, they called every day when they went to university. Every. Damn. Day.
Honey's parents didn’t really care, they just wanted to keep tabs on Honey.
Guy had a hard time cracking Honey, he couldn't talk to Kayla, she was too mean, she made small comments about how Honey, that god that lived in the same door as him, looked, which ticked him off.
He didn't have any respect for bullies.
Honey stayed in their room for about the first three months, occasionally peaking out when Guy would bring home pizza, guy always offered, and he always shared food
Eventually, Honey warmed up and Guy talked to them more.
One day, after spring break, Honey came home, and all the progress was lost, they wouldn't talk to guy, until Guy came home one day while Honey was showering guy came back, exhausted from work
He saw Honey, a towel wrapped around their waist, bruises… everywhere…
Guy immediately stood up, comforting them, clearly terrified that they got into a fight
Honey broke down. They will NEVER admit it, but they did, guy let Honey get dressed and they both just sat on the sofa, venting.
Honey knew that was when they loved the Guy
Guy already knew that they loved Honey.
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Tag list; @chlorine3
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mapoeggplant · 2 months ago
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no home and the acceptance of grief and loneliness
one of the things i liked most about the writing and development of the story of no home is how different arcs (or chapters) deal with different types of loss and how the character were able to get in touch with this lonely feeling and accept it in order to finally move on. in this analysis, i would like to comment on three characters: marie, haejoon and eunyung.
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(spoilers ahead)
Marie 
in marie's case, the feeling of loss has been there since she was young, when her mother left. in order to try to control the feeling of grief over the sudden loss of a motherly figure, marie begins to try to "take" her place, doing everything she can to take care of the house, her father and her brother, often putting her own desires aside in order to accommodate them.
the lack of her mother and the fear of abandonment make her dedicate herself more and more to being a support for her family and tries at all costs to prove that she is well and happy, afraid of being abandoned again. setting the table to wait for them while her sits alone represents, to me, this waiting that she constantly puts herself in to please everyone around her. marie even puts up with all the physical aggression from her brother and her father's neglect, with a gigantic fear of being the reason for her family to fall apart, following in her mother's footsteps in one way or another.
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marie lies to herself that life at home is not that bad and often softens her brother's aggression, but she still does everything she can to have her own freedom. moving to the dormitory is the first big step for her to finally be able to break free from this loneliness and seek comfort in her own interests and well-being. but even so, she is afraid to put into words the reason why she wants to move, only being able to admit it much later in a conversation with her aunt.
marie's loneliness is still seen throughout some chapters, especially when she tries, in a somewhat aggressive way, to save minju from falling into the same situation she found herself in, since she knows what it's like to feel alone and carry such a huge burden at home. however, the more we see her open up to the characters and get more and more involved with the journalism club, we can find in between the lines a new comfort that she feels when she returns home, having finally come to terms with herself and her own person, thus understanding her belonging within the home and in the group of friends.
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Eunyung
eunyung is an enigmatic character full of secrets from the beginning, but i really enjoy seeing how his loneliness unfolds throughout the story and how we follow his change side by side with the revelation of his past.
i think it's obvious when i say that eunyung's mourning comes from his family issues, especially his relationship with his father and all the abuse he suffered at his hands. all the times he ran away from home, all the times he tried to find comfort in unreliable friendships or even his way of seeking his own strength in fights with other people reflect his desire to be seen and understood, especially since he can't find this comfort and reassurance at home. in his constant escapes, eunyung is not only looking for an ideal place to hide from his parents, but also for family comfort, for someone to acknowledge how hard he's trying, for a bond to be created with people who will be able to overcome all the loneliness and mourning he feels for the loss of family affection.
the way in which the father is always presented as a shadow reflects a lot on the emptiness he feels every time he returns home or revisits his memories of the past. the father no longer has a human appearance and becomes represented by the fear that eunyung feels and the emptiness he brings into his life. he is not a person, but rather a feeling, a lack, a mourning.
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when he finally manages to see his father as a person and understands that he is much smaller and weaker than he remembered, eunyung begins to understand that much of his pain comes exactly from this erasure that he himself had in his parents' lives and they in his. he begins to see his father as someone of flesh and blood only when he, at the same time, begins to find comfort in the dormitory or in the new friendships he has been making throughout the story.
no longer seeing this black mass of fear is not just because eunyung finally got tired of not fighting back or a representation of him finding his own voice, but also thanks to the fact that he finally begins to understand that he does have a place in the world and deserves to start dreaming of a better future. he is no longer alone and understands that he no longer needs the family support that he so desperately needed: now, the blood ties are those that he will build and pursue himself, made up of people who he knows care about him and who he feels reciprocal affection for.
of course, this change is not obvious from the beginning and there is a long way to go between finally seeing his father and finding his freedom. eunyung's trauma is much more deep-rooted than he believes it to be, but finding his home has brought him enough comfort and foundation to accept this grief and understand that, in order to move forward, he does not need this constant memory that is only there to hurt and deceive him. detaching yourself from your parents is not about accepting your loneliness, but rather embracing it and finding a way to live with it until it dissolves into the past.
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Haejoon:
i think that when it comes to haejoon, his grief becomes even clearer and more obvious, since his entire arc, from beginning to end, is about him learning to live with the absence of his mother and the grief that never goes away.
it is very difficult to define what grief is exactly and whether or not we are able to “overcome” it. grief is a complex feeling with many layers and different types of understanding, so it is very wrong for anyone to want to define someone else’s pain with their own believes. for me, grief is a feeling that never goes away, you just learn to live with it and come to peace with yourself at a certain point. that said, i believe that this is literally haejoon’s final arc, especially when he “meets” his mother again.
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haejoon finds himself alone in the world and has to, for the first time, learn how to live with this loneliness. and this lesson doesn't come only with everyday life and the memories that come and go, but also with your self-discovery, opening up to new friendships and gradually connecting with your family and their secrets. learning to live with grief isn't just about acceptance, but also about knowing how to move forward and find people who help you discover happiness in this new life and this new phase.
the final scene of haejoon saying goodbye to his mother shows the evolution he has undergone. his mother, who was always such a gentle and loving person before, begins to become more aggressive and assertive, trying to trap him with her. i don't believe that this is a new vision that haejoon has of his mother, but rather a way that his inner self has found to make him finally come into direct contact with this loneliness and grief and face them. accepting this new life and this new found happiness is something very difficult for anyone who goes through grief. accepting that you can be happy again even without the person you love in your life is almost like saying goodbye and abandoning all the good memories you had with them. and haejoon is incredibly afraid of forgetting his mother, of losing her, of never being able to see her again. therefore, creating a more persuasive mother in his subconscious forces him to understand that he can enjoy and celebrate this new phase of his life without ever losing the connection with his mother. little by little, he recovers the good times he had with his friends and his new life, and being trapped inside a bubble of sadness no longer makes sense to him. his mother is no longer just a painful memory, but rather the strength that allows him to move forward.
it is very beautiful to see the moment when haejoon says goodbye to his mother and returns to his normal routine, ready to start college. we get to see a much more mature and self-confident boy, who has not only finally accepted all his flaws and qualities, but has also managed to understand that grief and longing are things that never go away, you just find a way to live better with both. honoring his mother means continuing to live as long as he can and being happy in the way he wants. honoring the memories of the mother he loved so much means remembering all her kindness and continuing to share with the people he loves all the affection his mother once shared with him.
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thank you for reading 💛
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velieditss · 4 months ago
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A life for a life
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Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Niece!reader
Cw: Explicit description of abuse (Not from Aemond to reader) grief, bad dreams of Lucerys death (I mean I cried at that kid like I had birthed him, raised him, and paid for all his bills)
Summary: Once, you were a betrothed, but now, you are a widow and a prisoner. Yet, it seems the regent prince has set his sights on you, a gaze that, in truth, was always there, watching you from the shadows. But only now, at this crossroads in your life, does he feel empowered to claim you as his own.
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You were the only one who stayed behind when your family returned to Dragonstone. Your only desire was to keep Helaena company, the only one among the king and queen's children with whom you had formed a bond, a fragile thread of affection in a court where alliances were often brittle.
But you didn’t heed her warning—or perhaps you simply didn’t understand it.
“Leave, or he will claim you,” she had whispered, her voice trembling with an urgency that you failed to grasp.
You certainly didn’t understand.
That very night, your grandfather, the king, died.
You were asleep when it happened, blissfully unaware, only to awaken to a silence so profound it was deafening. No one came to inform you, and when you tried to leave your chambers, you found the doors barred, locking you inside.
It became clear that only one person had remembered your existence when food and water were delivered to you. Desperate for answers, you questioned the servant, only to learn that your grandfather had passed, Aegon had been crowned king in your mother’s stead, and your betrothed, Prince Lucerys, was dead. How, or why, no one would tell you.
Devastated, the full weight of your captivity settled upon you. You long to stop dreaming. You implore the gods that you could cease to dream. You are so exhausted; all you yearn for is sleep. You want to sleep all day, from dawn until twilight, which every evening arrives a little earlier and with a touch more gloom. During the day, all you do is think about sleeping, about him. But at night, all you do is try to stay awake.
All day you keep your face smiling like a mask, smiling, smiling, your teeth bared, your eyes bright, your skin like stretched parchment, paper-thin. You keep your voice clear and soft, you speak words without meaning, and sometimes, when necessary, you even sing. At night you fall into your bed as if you were plunging into deep waters, as if you were sinking into the depths, as if the water were possessing you, taking you like a mermaid, and for a moment you feel a deep relief, as if, submerged in water, your sorrow could drain away, as if it were the Gods eye river and the currents could bring forgetfulness and carry you into the cave of sleep; but then, the dreams come.
You don’t dream of his dead–it would be the worst of nightmares to see your brother bleeding to death, to see him with the pale face typical of a lifeless body and soulless eyes.
You don’t dream any of this, and you thank the Gods for that mercy at least.
But you understood, that if anything he would have wished, it was that you would not live with grief and regret.
You were born a princess and you are the heir to a long line of courageous women.
Even so, you wept until sleep claimed you, and the days began to blur together, each more colorless than the last. You lost the will to eat, to care, for it seemed that no one cared for you. Only a servant came each day to help you wash, but even she never spoke.
Thoughts of escape flitted through your mind—knocking out the servant, or even throwing yourself from the window, the height be damned. But everything changed one night when they dragged you from your bed, giving you no time to comprehend what was happening.
They hauled you through the corridors with such brutality that your arms bore the bruises of their grip.
“What is happening?” you demanded, your voice quivering with fear. “Where are you taking me?”
The soldiers’ hold tightened painfully, making you wince. “The king wishes to see you, so keep your mouth shut.”
As you were led closer to the chambers that had once belonged to your grandfather, you sensed something was horribly wrong. Soldiers were dragging servants away, forcing them toward what seemed to be the dungeons, while you were marched in the opposite direction.
“I’ve done nothing,” you murmured, dread curling in your stomach. “I am a princess; you have no right to treat me like this!”
But your protests fell on deaf ears.
When you reached the king’s door, a cacophony of crashes and furious shouts echoed from within, as though the very foundations of the room were being torn apart.
“I’ll kill them!” a voice roared. “I’ll kill them all! Traitors and villains! How dare they attack me!”
The doors were flung open, and you were shoved to the floor at the feet of a figure who loomed above you.
“Your Majesty…”
“I am the King!”
You raised your head slightly to see Aegon, wild-eyed, smashing something in his hands—a relic of ancient Valyria that had once belonged to Viserys.
“I am the King!” he repeated, and it took several men to calm him, though his rage only simmered as he turned his gaze upon you.
“We’ve brought the traitor, as you commanded.”
A chill swept through you as your eyes met Aegon’s. The fury and madness in his stare made him unrecognizable, a stranger where once there had been a boy you had known all your life.
He grabbed you by the shoulders and hauled you to your feet, his grip so tight it was as though he wanted to crush you with it. His eyes were wild, almost deranged.
“It was you, wasn’t it?” His voice was more of an accusation than a question.
You instinctively placed a hand on his chest as he backed you against the shattered remains of the sculpture he had destroyed.
“You sought revenge in the name of your bastard betrothed.”
You shook your head as his hand closed around your throat, squeezing until you could barely breathe.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you choked out, struggling to draw air into your lungs.
"Aegon...!" you gasped, but he didn't release you. Your eyes locked with his, desperately trying to convey the truth. You had done nothing, you didn’t even know why he was blaming you. Of all people, he should know that you would be the last to harm them.
But his grip tightened, and as your vision began to blur, you started hitting his arm in a frantic attempt to break free.
With no one stepping in to stop him, you acted out of sheer instinct. You grabbed the nearest object and struck Aegon across the face with all the strength you could muster.
He released you immediately, and you collapsed to the floor, gasping for breath and clutching your chest. Only then did the others move, but not against Aegon—against you.
They seized you by the hair, dragging you to your feet, holding you so tightly that escape was impossible.
You were certain you would die there, but you resolved that you would not go down without a fight.
Aegon waved the others away, and without hesitation, he struck again. The blow was so fierce that it knocked the strength from your legs, leaving your ears ringing and your vision blurred. Warm blood trickled down your lips as you struggled to stay conscious.
Your eyes filled with tears, and you braced yourself for the next strike, but it never came.
Slowly, your hearing returned, and with it, your sight. You could make out distant voices—two at first, then more. You were dropped to the cold floor for a third time.
Raising your head, you saw a blurry figure holding Aegon by the throat. The darkness, combined with the dizziness in your head, made it difficult to identify who it was.
You wanted to take advantage of the distraction, to flee, but you had no idea where to go or what to do. You tried to stand, but the ringing in your head grew louder, preventing you from taking more than a single step.
“She is a traitor, and you dare defend her?” you heard Aegon’s voice, but you no longer cared.
You made a second attempt to stand, but this time you did not feel the ground beneath you. Instead, you felt arms encircling your waist with a surprising gentleness, a touch so unexpected that even he seemed taken aback.
When you looked up, you found yourself gazing into the face of the last person you ever expected.
“Aemond?” you asked, needing confirmation.
In the dim light of the night, through the haze of pain and exhaustion, you clung to the one solid thing you had found.
“Don’t try to move anymore,” he said softly, “you’ll only hurt yourself more.”
He guided your arms around his neck and, with no effort at all, lifted you into his arms. You might have resisted, demanded that he put you down, that you retain some shred of dignity after all you had endured, but you were utterly exhausted. Your head wouldn’t stop spinning, and your spirit was shattered. For now, Aemond seemed to be the only one who showed even a flicker of care for you.
••••
You were the only good thing he remembered from his childhood. The only thing that made him smile, the only thing that made him feel human.
Like him, your dragon egg never hatched, but unlike him, you didn’t mind. And it was this indifference that made him begin to notice you. He admired the kindness, fairness, and awareness you displayed effortlessly.
When Aegon mocked him, you defended him; when your brothers teased him, you scolded them. And when the incident at Driftmark occurred, although you weren’t present, you were the only one who wept upon seeing what had happened to him.
You were also the only one who went to see him afterward, when everyone else walked away without consequence. You gave him something no one else did: a hug.
“You’re still handsome,” you said, gently brushing the spot where the stitches had been.
He couldn’t help but blush at your words. Although he pretended not to care, that wound had affected him deeply, just as so many other things had during his childhood.
“It was a fair trade. I lost an eye, but I gained a dragon,” he repeated, echoing the same words he had said to his mother.
You looked at him with sadness because, even though you couldn’t fully understand what he felt, it seemed to you that he repeated those words to convince himself that he shouldn’t feel pity for what he had lost.
“You’re allowed to be sad, you know?” you said, taking his hand and offering a faint smile. “I don’t really know what happened down there, or why my brothers reacted the way they did, or what you did, but... it’s not as simple as you make it out to be, and that’s okay. You’re human, Aemond.”
He remained silent for a few moments, and for the first time, he thought that if he were to cry in that moment, he wouldn’t feel judged but rather comforted by the love and patience you had always shown him. But he didn’t. Despite the trust he had in you, he didn’t want to seem weak in your eyes.
That was the last time you saw him.
But it wasn’t the last time you had contact with him. You always wrote to him and to Helaena, telling them about your daily life, about what made you happy, like the birth of your younger brothers, Aegon and Viserys, and the joy you felt holding their tiny bodies.
For a while, everything was fine. However, little by little, your letters became less frequent until one day they stopped altogether, which made him nervous. It was a feeling he didn’t understand, and it worsened when he found out that you continued to write to Helaena but not to him.
His confusion turned into fury, especially when, at the beginning of your silence, he sent you letters—initially short, barely a paragraph. But when he received no reply, he started sending longer ones, telling you about his day, trying to regain the attention you had once given him without directly asking why you had gone silent. One letter, two, three… ten. But there was no response.
So he stopped trying.
Then, you returned to King’s Landing to defend your brother’s legitimacy after six long years.
You saw him training and noticed how much he had changed. You felt the fear the servants displayed when he was near, how hard and enigmatic he had become. The boy you knew had disappeared, transformed into a man you no longer recognized.
He caught your gaze from below, and for the first time in his life, you looked away. You had never done that before; you always greeted him with a tender smile and warm eyes.
“Why? Why? Why?” he wondered furiously in his mind, as if you could answer him from a distance.
You were walking towards the throne room to witness Vaemond Velaryon’s petition when someone intercepted you, grabbing your hand and making you turn with a gasp.
You parted your lips slightly upon meeting Aemond’s cold gaze. He was much taller than you now, his face had gained firmer features, and the strength he had acquired was evident, perhaps thanks to his training. Even his skin had taken on a more bronzed tone from all those days outdoors. The patch covering his missing eye made him look even more imposing.
“Do I look like a criminal to you, or why are you running from me?” he asked bluntly, without so much as a greeting or an apology for interrupting you and grabbing you.
“We’re going to be late,” was all you said, trying to free yourself from his grip.
However, he didn’t let go, as if his hand on your wrist was a chain binding you to him.
You looked at him again, silently pleading with him not to persist. He remained silent, watching you with a depth that, for the first time, you couldn’t interpret.
Then he let out a short laugh and released you, causing you to cover your wrist with your other hand.
Your heart ached because, although you had sworn to keep your distance from him, you knew you were being unfair.
You turned your back on him, ready to leave, but you bit your lower lip, feeling the truth gnawing at you inside.
“Did you do it?” you asked in a whisper, turning back to face him.
He looked at you, not understanding.
“Do what?” You nervously fidgeted with your hands, a gesture he hated. He could find satisfaction in everyone else’s fear of him, but in you, and only in you, he despised it.
“Did you try to kill them?” you finally asked. “Did you try to kill my brothers? Is that why Luke attacked you with a knife?”
He clenched his hands into fists, connecting the dots. Was that why you had stopped writing to him? Why you were ignoring him?
You couldn’t bear to see how his face filled with a rage you had never seen in him before, a rage that sent shivers down your spine. You lowered your gaze, waiting for an answer.
However, he grabbed your chin, forcing you to face him.
He expected this from everyone, but not from you.
The only woman he had placed on a pedestal, the only one who had taught him that love could be given willingly, not out of obligation.
“Is that what they told you?” he murmured, struggling with an internal conflict that seemed to hurt him, even make him feel betrayed. “And you believed them?”
You closed your eyes, and seeing him like this made you begin to doubt your convictions.
However, Jace, Luke, even Baela and Rhaena, had sworn it to you on their lives. You knew that, of all people, Jace and Luke would never lie to you. So yes, your judgment was clouded by the oaths of the people you loved most.
“Then tell me, tell me what happened that day, tell me you didn’t break Luke’s nose and try to hit Jace with a rock.”
Silence seemed to flood everything like an overwhelming tide.
“They attacked me,” he asserted in a solemn tone, one that left no room for doubt or questioning. “All four of them came to attack me.”
He didn’t deny it, and that was the first thing you noticed.
“And why? Why would four children come to attack you?” You didn’t accuse him of anything, you simply asked, though you already knew the answer; you wanted to hear it from his lips.
“That doesn’t justify what they did to me,” he said, with an expression that broke your heart. Though you already knew, you had hoped your brothers were mistaken.
“No, it doesn’t justify it,” you responded. “But neither does it justify what you said to them, nor how you insulted them, because the moment that word left your lips, you insulted me too. The moment you struck them, you struck me as well. And when they hurt you, they hurt me too.”
You had to swallow hard to keep your eyes from filling with tears.
“I will never forgive what they did to you, and my heart breaks to see that the boy I once loved… suffered and changed so much, to the point where I no longer recognize him.” Your voice trembled as his eyes pierced through you, reaching the deepest part of your soul. “But I can’t forgive you for what you did to them either.”
You sighed and took his hand.
“And they are my brothers… I had to choose.”
A tear slid down your cheek, one that carried so many emotions, so much meaning.
You let go of him, ready to leave him behind and head for your mother’s arms. You just wanted to reach her.
However, you felt a pull, gentler this time, less abrupt. One that forced you to face him again.
Then, something you thought impossible happened: in his eyes, you once again saw the boy you remembered, that boy with a sad but determined gaze, who tried to be strong, though he had a brave and simple heart. That boy who made your heart race, who made you want to see him day and night, the one who, despite the differences in your lives, always seemed to understand you.
And then, in an unexpected and overwhelming moment, his lips sought yours. There was no hesitation, no moment of doubt. It took you by surprise, but instead of pulling away, you found yourself responding with the same intensity. The air between you seemed to evaporate as the heat of his body enveloped yours.
His kiss was everything you had imagined and more, a blend of unleashed passion and tenderness you hadn’t anticipated. Your hands, which at first had frozen in the air, moved of their own accord—one tangled in his hair, the other gripped his back, feeling the taut
His kiss was everything you had imagined and more, a blend of overwhelming passion and an unexpected tenderness. Your hands, which had initially frozen in mid-air, moved of their own accord—one tangling in his hair, the other clutching at his back, feeling the taut muscles beneath the fabric of his clothing.
Aemond kissed you with a fervor you had never known, as if each kiss was a confession, a longing, a broken promise he tried to mend with every brush of his lips. The need that enveloped you was so overwhelming that you almost lost sense of everything except him. His lips were soft yet firm, his breath warm as it mingled with yours, evoking in you a visceral reaction you had never expected.
Your lips moved in sync with his, responding with a passion that surprised you, a passion that seemed to come from the deepest part of your being. It was a kiss that spoke not just of desire but of all the unexpressed emotions, all the words that had never been spoken.
Then, almost painfully, you became aware of where you were, of the danger of being discovered. With a tremendous effort, you gently pushed him away, breaking the kiss with a gasp, the echo of his touch still vibrating on your lips.
You brought your hand to your lips, still feeling the ghost of his touch, unable to believe what had just happened. He looked at you, breathing heavily, his eyes darkened by a mix of emotions that pierced through you like lightning. For a moment, your heart hesitated, tempted to fall once more into the abyss that had opened between you.
But then, you heard voices approaching, reminding you of where you were and the situation you were in. Aemond seemed to realize it too, and his gaze filled with a mix of frustration and something deeper that you didn’t dare to name. In that instant, he had the impulse to demand, to claim you.
Even so, you knew you had to pull away, that you couldn’t allow yourself to fall deeper into temptation.
Without a word, you turned your back on him, ready to leave, though the truth burned in your chest. You swore to yourself that you wouldn’t let this happen again, that you would turn your feelings for him into a cold, forgotten stone.
And it was all for one reason.
In the audience, when asked about the legitimacy of Princess Rhaenyra's children, King Viserys announced his consent for the marriage between Jacaerys Velaryon, Rhaenyra and Laenor’s eldest son, heir to the throne after his mother, and Baela Targaryen, Daemon and Laena’s eldest daughter. Likewise, following tradition, Lucerys Velaryon, the second son and Corlys’s heir, would marry you.
Aemond’s reaction was immediate and palpable; the fury burning in his eyes was visible in every fiber of his being. It was a fury born not just of frustration, but of disdain and the contempt he felt.
The sky darkened as if aware of the contempt, fury, and slight that the queen’s third son felt. A feeling that clouded his judgment the next day and led him to commit the gravest of sins, unleashing the consequences that would follow.
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rotten-pomegranate · 7 months ago
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Illumi’s s/o gets an abortion while she was on the run. After being locked up for long, when she found her chance to escape, she took it. She was forced into this by Illumi, she doesn’t want to be a mother. What she didn’t know was his family prized those in having coloring like Silva & Killua. Illumi finds out by chance, that the abortion took that away from him, and his family.
Yes.
Warnings: dark content, past rape, future rape, abuse, mentions of child abuse, abortion, forced pregnancy
/|\^._.^/|\ /|\^._.^/|\ /|\^._.^/|\ /|\^._.^/|\ /|\^._.^/|\ /|\^._.^/|\
He’s pissed when you run away, how dare you? You think you can get away from him after all he’s don’t for you, making sure you fed, clothed, bathed and dry at all times?
He is even more mad you ran away with his soon to be heir, it doesn’t matter to him he had to force himself on you to conceive it, it just matters he’s gonna have one
So when he finds you no longer pregnant and with no baby in sight, he just about beats the life out of you for what you’ve done
He drags you back to the mountain his family’s manor is on talking about how he hopes it was worth it because you’ll never see the light of day again and how he can just fuck another baby into you the whole way there
He brings you all the way to the basement and throws you in one of the rooms they use for prisoners and traitors which you now are
Your gonna get beat and starved for a few days before he jumps on the task of getting you pregnant again
©rotten-pomegranate- All rights reserved, don’t steal, translate, copy, plagiarize, claim my work as your own or post it on other platforms.
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tiramisuwithmascarpone · 7 months ago
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Hello! I'm a 15-year-old devotee of both Lord Hermes and Lady Aphrodite who is raised in an extremely Orthodox Christian household, and I would like to share my story with you ⋆˚ʚɞ
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Hi! for safety reasons I will not use the name I usually use online for this account, but you can call me Jellyfish. I live in Eastern Europe, more exactly Romania, a country whose population is 98% devoted to Christianity at the time of speaking. My mother is a perfect example. She wholeheartedly believes in God, I grew up with pictures of him and the Holy Mary all over the walls, which I wouldn't escape even at my grandparent's houses. My house always smelled of myrrh, I would carry a picture of God everywhere I went, I would pray to him before bed, go to church on every holiday, but I never felt fulfilled or connected to him in any way. I didn't truly know what I believed in. My mother was telling me all about how should I praise God, but I don't think I ever did it because I wanted to or felt connected to what she was telling me or felt like it was the life I wanted to live. When she would fight with my father, even now, she would threaten that she would run away to a monastery and become a nun. She thinks you cannot change your religion and you can not be Christian if you were born with Christian parents and raised in that environment. I did not have faith in God because I wanted to and felt connected to his message and wanted to worship his divine being, I did it because my mother felt that way. And that destroyed me.
As I grew older, I started believing less and less in God. I was struggling with going through teenagehood, fighting my own inner battles, and dealing with friendship that slowly felt like they were taking away my lifespan, and it wasn't just that I didn't have faith in a divine being (which is completely alright. Please do not believe this monologue is Anti-Christian, I believe everyone is allowed to believe and worship the one who they feel most connected and inclined towards.) I didn't have faith in anything anymore. When my brother reached 15, he hated my parents for their beliefs. I will not get much I detail since his story is not mine to tell, but he had battled with alcohol and substance abuse. And I was his only shoulder for him and my parents to lean and cry on. My mother told me to pray for our family, she would pray to god every day, light up myrrh, take me to churches, and I would feel miserable. I felt like an imposter in that church. I truly wanted to have faith in a god, anyone, but I felt like my only choice was God since that's what my mother taught me. Both my parents trust God so I cannot be different, can I?
How foolish I was. I can only look back to my past self and wish to embrace and hold her till she cries all her sorrow out. She was so confused.
Back in 2022, I had first heard of Aphrodite. My brother was sent to a mental hospital for his substance abuse when they caught him on the verge of overdosing. I was diagnosed with major depressive disorder after a suicide attempt, autism and ADHD, but my father (who already couldn't accept the fact that my brother has ADHD) fought with them saying they ,,don't know me well enough" and,,there's nothing wrong with me". And he's right, there's nothing wrong with me. Not even If I am neurodivergent. I was at my lowest, I felt disgusting, I fought with my parents and was their therapist every single day, I stopped going to school, I was a mess. But, I was heavily active on social media because I had tons of online friends. While scrolling on tiktok, I found a video of an Aphrodite devotee. My interest was piqued. I heard about Greek Mythology before but never actually researched it. I liked the video and commented, talking about how gorgeous their faith sounds, and that's when it all started. I started getting more info about Aphrodite, the swans swum by me every time I would go to the lake with my family so we could ,,get some fresh air". I started getting lots of pins on Pinterest with her. I always had a desire for water and the beach was my safe place, where I felt fulfilled and free from all I'm feeling. I had a Dove make itself a nest on a tree next to the window of my classroom which I would always sit by while having lunch (on the rare occasions I would drop by to school). I started researching more about Lady Aphrodite, loving her story, beliefs, ways of worshipping, how it felt like silence was washing over me when I would make a non-physical offering to her. Her tales. The way it felt like she was always there to give me a warm hug and squeeze me while I was crying. I also felt a boost in my confidence! I started loving my features, taking care of myself again, etc. It wasn't always just sun and rainbows, I would still have breakdowns and wish it would all just end and all that, but it was more bearable with her. She made my life more bearable. I love, worship, and adore Lady Aphrodite for that. I worshipped her till this year when I officially felt strong enough to devote myself to her.
This year, actually, I started noticing my strong connection to Hermes. I was always attracted to the kind-hearted, mischievous, kind-hearted, highly intelligent and funny thieves. I always idolized them and wished to be like them. That's how I feel about Lord Hermes. I feel like he was reaching out to me all my life. Everything he is associated with I had an inexplicable obsession with for pretty much all my life. Turtles, golden or silver, travel, learning new languages, astronomy, astrology, everything you could think of. I have been devoted to him since last month, that's when I officially started labeling myself as a Hellenic Pagan, but I am still a beginner, and I need to hide all of this from my mother since I am afraid of what she would do if she were to find out I have another belief since she reacted super badly back when I was an atheist :( I set up the first altar for Lady Aphrodite, and the second one for Lord Hermes. I always had been an artistic soul and loved making my room all pretty randomly so I told my mother this is one of those cases and she believed it. She does not know english and is not at all cultured about any beliefs besides Christians, Muslims, and Jews. They are both hidden in my closet. I feel very bad for not being able to make them a bigger and more obvious altar, I hope I'll have that chance when I move out from my parent's house..
I wanted to ask if Lord Hermes would be mad if my mom kept setting random things on his altar? she even put a picture of the Holy Mary. I moved it to the other side of the closet and made a DIY necklace for him out of orange garnet or beads to apologize to him, and he didn't seem mad, but I'm not sure...I sketched drawings of both of them and rested them on their altars. Everything you see are either offerings I heard they may like or things that reminded me of them! the little notebook on Hermes's altar is specifically made for learning new languages and thought he would enjoy it. Do you guys think any of my offerings are disrespectful? or should be removed? I'm open to any advice! Thank you for listening to my story <3
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skxllz · 1 year ago
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warnings; mentions of cancer risk, implications of abuse, implied homophobia
the rattling of steel clanged around, signifying that someone was climbing the rusted ladder of the fire escape. you were burning a cigarette on the side, hanging over the railing and looking down at the passing people that laughed, talked, and just so happened to be drunk.
it was eleven forty on a saturday night after all.
“ hey, y/n! ” mickey's voice caught your attention, causing you to look up and for him to grin — until he saw the wisps of smoke. he followed it, up until his eyes landed on your cigarette.
“ the fuck? ”
a frown instantly pulled at his lips. that's when ian climbed up behind ‘im on the ladder and pulled himself up, only to dust his hands onto his jeans. “ what is it? ” ian questioned, looking at mickey with raised brows — then, his head slowly turned to you.
they both had frowns on their faces after that.
you flicked your cigarette over the railing and to the ground below, ridding it from their sight, and yours, completely. “ I don't see what the big deal is with me smoking. ”
“ you promised you wouldn't anymore. ” ian shot back, face hard with emotion. “ y/n, lung cancer runs in your family and last time you were at the doctors- ”
“ I know. ” you scoffed, looking away. “ I know, they found cells and I was at high risk. i just... ” your eyes were darting back and forth as you thought, debating if you should tell your boyfriends about the trouble that's been going on in your life. it was difficult to decide.
“ you just? ” mickey mocked, waving his hands about, “ you just what? spit it the fuck out. ” he was irritated because someone he loved went behind his back and did something he shouldn't have. of course he'd let his anger get the best of ‘im.
you sigh, “ I've been stressed, alright? and angry.. ” tears gathered in the corners of your eyes, but you refused to let anything fall; holding them back with immense strength. “ m’ mum, she's... not supportive of my sexuality. that's why I never introduced her to you guys. ”
ian's brows knitted together at this new found out information. of course, him and mickey knew you had secrets —they had only known you around eight months—, but they never thought it'd be something like that. something they could relate to, of all things.
of course it was serious, but why wouldn't you go to them about it?
mickey glanced at ian, before approaching you slowly with a softening expression. he himself knew what it was like to have a parent that wasn't accepting. “ y/n... ” you flinched as he put a hand on your forearm, and that made him reel his arm back.
he was nearly offended — but then he glanced down, eyeing the arm that was covered by the thin sleeve of a hoodie. your mother couldn't have... could she?
even if he wanted to ask, he didn't, because he knew he'd kill the bitch. right now, you needed comforted — and as selfish as mickey could be, now wasn't the time.
“ baby, ” mickey's voice came out quieter, “ why didn't you come to us — to me? you know we wouldn't judge you.. ” he huffed a laugh of irony. “ hell, terry hates my fucking guts cause ‘m gay, man. ”
you wouldn't meet his gaze, but you nodded in acknowledgement to his words, letting out a shaky breath. “ I.. I know. I just didn't want to bother you guys with my problems. ”
“ bother us? ” this time ian scoffed, approaching the both of you until he was standing directly next to mickey. “ if you bothered us, we would've told you to beat it awhile ago y/n. ”
“ yeah, ” mickey eyed you, blue eyes taking in the sight of your own shifty ones. of course you were nervous. “ but you're not botherin’ us. so stop beatin’ around the bush about shit from now on, alright? ”
you were silent for a moment, thinking over mickey and ian's words — taking in the fact that yeah, they were telling the truth. these two don't keep people around, especially mickey, if they didn't like them. so in a way, you guess you were lucky.
that's when you lifted your head to smile slightly at the two, “ y’know I love you guys, right? ”
mickey smirked. “ enough to suck my d- ”
ian smacked him in the back of the head. mickey scowled in reply, rubbing at his head, but said nothing.
the red head turned to look at you with a sweet smile, “ what he meant to say, was he enough to stop smoking, right? ”
you were grinning widely, cheeks rosey from mickey's earlier comment. god you loved them. “ yeah... yeah, enough to stop smoking. ”
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dollgxtz · 1 month ago
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I’m not the same anon that asked about reader having PPD. But I read your reply to their question, and I want to ask: what if reader DOES end up snapping and hurting the baby (or perhaps even killing it)? would he hate her? How would he react? I’ve studied this matter a bit and I’ve found out that mothers getting aggressive with children that tie them down to abusive or unhealthy relationships is in fact much more common than we think. Alot of mothers abandon their child when they escape these relationships too. It’s all because they can’t help but think of those traumatic events every time they see their child. So, yeah. What would happen if she does end up hurting the child severely, or even killing them? (either in a state of psychosis or when she snaps, or intentionally)
TW: CHILD DEATH
(Heed the warning!!! Don’t click read more if this triggers you!)
I think Yan!Sylus would be heartbroken, angry, and desperate to rationalize why Reader would do such a thing to their precious baby. But make no mistake, he would never actually let it get to the point where she would manage to kill the baby. He would notice the signs and act accordingly, as he’s a very observant man.
In the event that she did kill baby though, hypothetically, you can imagine this would be one of those times he’d fully release his anger onto Reader. Not physically harming her to the point of killing, but he would be so heartbroken that he wouldn’t be able to keep his cool for once.
After his anger was gone he’d likely rationalize in his head what happened. Probably end up blaming himself, and then just…start the process over (impregnating her again), this time vowing to be more attentive and just separate baby. He still wants a family, and if that means baby can’t be with mom for awhile then so be it. (As fucked as that sounds, it’s very in character for the Yan!Sylus I’m portraying.)
Also, in his mind, he can’t ever let her go now as she’s a danger not only to herself but to others clearly. So he’d take it upon himself to take the burden of caring for Reader, forever. Because despite what she’s done, he can’t stop loving her. His own messed up psyche won’t let him stop caring about her even he wanted to.
Pretty sad and tragic. The only reason I’m even typing this out is because that is definitely not an ending that I would ever make, the murder of children is like a huge no no for me in my own personal writing. Miscarriages, stillborns are fine but murder of children? Breaks my heart too much 💔
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thefaithfulnightwriter · 5 months ago
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Dracontine - Chapter One
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[^ the gif above i found on Pinterest so rights go to rightful owner ^]
❝ She is very rare. She is what you call a Dracontine. Meaning she belongs to a dragon. But in her case, she does not belong to one but three. ❞
Summary - In which a young female hides who she truly is from everyone and stays to herself. Keeping to her chores as a servant. Staying hidden was her main task while taking care of her three dragon eggs that were bound to her. But many things change when she has to stay Under the Mountain with many others. What she didn't expect was that she would meet her mate. Who happened to be the powerful High Lord of Night Court. Then soon later on she would find she has another powerful mate. The Spymaster of Night Court who was a Shadowsinger. She soon finds herself having to break out of her shell with the help of her mates and their family. Along with finding out how to navigate two bonds with two powerful mates. Also, while taking the title as Dracontine. Being she is the one who belongs to not one but three dragons. All while trying to survive a war.
Pairing - Rhysand x Female!Oc/Mc/Reader x Azriel
Universe - pre acotar - acowar [it may go into an au after acowar not sure yet though]
Series Warnings - DRAGONS (yes that is a warning lol), Gore, Death, Characters may be a bit OOC, Mature Themes, Semi Smut, Violence, Language, Mention of Past Abuse, War, Things Will Be Changed, Fluff, Angst, Some Sensitive Subjects, Mating Bonds, Poly. Relationship MxFxM (Side Note - Rhysand & Azriel are in a relationship or are mates to my Mc they will not be together), More Will Be Added If Needed. (Please do not read if these are triggers)
Disclaimer - I do not own the series ACOTAR - ACOWAR. I do own certain characters, and I own my mc. I do own somethings that are made up. And i own my writing and whatnot you get where im going and what i am saying lol.
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A smile was upon the lips of the little female fae right now. She had long dark brown curly hair that fell to her waist. Dark brown eyes so dark they looked to be an onyx color. Light brown smooth skin and dark freckles that littered it. She was a beautiful child. She was only a young fae though only being in her mid teens.
Right now, though she was asleep and dreaming. She loved being in her dreams. It was always peaceful for her. Her life outside her dreams however was not. She had a rough life. Even though she was young she still understood what was going on around her. She was born to be a servant in the Autumn Court. Her mother was already teaching her the things she was supposed to do as a servant.
But she wasn't thinking about her life at the moment. No right now she was enjoying her peaceful dream.
As a soft giggle escaped her lips as she skipped beside an older male in her dream. She was holding his large hand with her small one. Swinging their hands back and forth. As she hummed and looked around her. It was a beautiful vast meadow. But she soon smiled widely when she saw the familiar red dragon not that far away laying down in the grass. She was soon letting go of the male's hand and running towards the dragon.
Once she was close she skipped faster to the dragon. Once she was in reach she went and ran her hands against the red dragon's scaled neck. Which led the dragon to growl softly with affection. As she allowed the child to pet her. Anna was enthralled with the dragon. That she didn't hear the chuckle from the male nor see him smile at her fondly. She was so happy and content as she ran her hands against the dragon's neck. That is until a thought came to her mind. She was then turning to the male behind her with a curious look upon her face.
"Grandfather Cade when can I tell everyone about you being in my dreams, and about Crimson being here too?" She asked with a sigh. She desperately wanted to tell her mother and most definitely her grandmother about the dreams she has. She wanted to tell everyone about her great grandfather Cade and his dragon Crimson. She wanted to tell them what they look like, what it was like to fly in the sky upon Crimson's back, and about her being the next Dracontine.
"Well little one I want you to tell them when there is proof," Cade told his great grandchild. Cade didn't want her to tell anyone just yet about him and Crimson. These dreams he cherished and kept them close to his heart. Though he was dead, coming into his great grand daughter's dreams was something that the Mother allowed. Which he was grateful for. He was so happy to have a connection to his family, and even more overjoyed that the next Dracontine was going to be his great granddaughter who was in front of him. She was so kind, so caring, and warmhearted. She kept such innocence and affection. Even while she was going through many things at such a young age. Living the life of a servant.
"What do you mean?" She questions him with a tilt of her head. As she leant her back against Crimson sliding down to sit on the ground. Looking up at Cade with curiosity and wonder. She wanted to tell someone so bad about her dreams, mainly her family. But her grandfather wanted her to wait.
"When you find your dragon eggs. Then and only then will be the time. When you are allowed and will be able to tell the family about these dreams. About me and Crimson. But only tell our family Annamarie. Like I said before they will know what to do. You remember what I told you before?" Cade explained to Anna. As he sat down beside her. Which led Anna to crawl over and sit sideways in his lap. Leaning her head on his shoulder.
"Yes grandfather I remember. One day the Mother will guide me to my three dragon eggs. And once I find my eggs and touch them I will change. Which I have to keep hidden. Then I must tell the family and only them. Then I must hide my eggs and make sure no one finds them. But I need to keep them near me and warm with my new abilities. It will take them years to hatch. And um oh yeah. Then when the time comes I need to go Under the Mountain as a servant. Wherever that is. Then everything will fall in place for me," Anna recited the words that her grandfather had told her many times before. As she looked up at him with wide eyes wondering if what she said was right. This caused Cade to nod with a smile.
"Yes. Very good. I must warn you... it will be happening sometime in a few more years little one. You will be finding your dragon eggs in time. You just have to be patient," Cade warned her. As he sent her a smile. Trying to hide his worry for his granddaughter and her future. Anna smiled as she clapped her hands and jumped and threw her arms over his shoulders and hugged Cade with excitement.
She was ecstatic that she was going to find her dragon eggs sometime in only a few more years. After hearing such news the two calmed and they stayed there for a moment letting a peaceful silence wash over them. Nothing was heard but the loud breathing of Crimson and the wind. Anna was enjoying her time with her grandfather Cade. That is until she thought of something.
"Grandfather will I always be able to see you in my dreams even when I'm older?" Anna asked him, as she looked into his light eyes. This caused Cade to sigh and look at her then up at the sky. Anna was quick to climb off his lap and sit next to him again. Giving him time. To let him think. Cade was then looking down at her again with a sad smile.
"For now I will only be a dream away if you need me, little one. All you need to do is pray to the Mother. Let her hear that you need me and when you close your eyes to dream, I will be there for you. Both me and Crimson will be. Remember the Mother allows these visits. We should be grateful that she allows it. But as you grow I will guide you as the next Dracontine, and I will teach you as much as I can in your dreams about dragons and much more. About being the next Dracontine. Though there will be a time when you will not need me anymore Annamarie. But that won't be for a long time. For now me and Crimson will always be here for you whenever you need us in your dreams," Cade informed Anna with a smile.
This caused Anna to nod understanding. She was soon thinking about what he said and was stuck in her thoughts. She was thinking about a time she wouldn't need him. But she thought she would always need her grandfather Cade and Crimson. Which made her grow sad.
Looking over at Anna, Cade instantly knew what she was thinking about. He sighed sadly until he heard a soft but loud growl escape Crimson's scaled muzzle. Looking up at the dragon his eyes met Crimson's golden snake like eyes. As if she could understand what was going on. Which she did. She was giving him a look and gestured to her back with her golden eyes. That was all Cade needed. But thinking for a moment and feeling Crimson's emotions soon Cade smiled as he turned to Anna. Taking in what Crimson was hinting at.
"How about we go for a fly in the sky above Annamarie. Before you wake," Cade asked Anna. Trying to get her mind off her thoughts of him being gone. He didn't want to think about it either. Hearing him though Anna quickly turned her head to Cade looking up at him with a wide smile.
As she nodded and stood up quickly making her way to Crimson's wing. The red dragon moved her large wing allowing Anna to climb up to sit on her back. A chuckle escaped Cade's lips as he followed after the excited child. And soon they were sitting on Crimson's back with Anna sitting in front of Cade.
Anna was in a giggling fit with a wide smile. She was smiling so much and wide it hurt her cheeks but she didn't care. As she looked back at her grandfather Cade when he asked her if she's ready. Which she nodded exclaiming yes. As she threw up her small arms then went back to leaning forward and holding onto Crimson. Like Cade had taught her many times to do before. Laughter escaped Cade's lips before he leaned forward making sure they were both secured and shouted.
"Crimson fly," he exclaimed to the dragon. Which led Crimson to throw her head back and let out a loud roar. As she brought up her wings and began to flap her massive wings. Letting the air under her wings and allowing the wind to lift her off the ground. And soon she was flying high above into the sky. Laughter was heard from both Anna and Cade as they felt the wind whipping past them.
The next day Anna woke up from her dream with a smile upon her lips.
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Years have passed by in a blurry motion for Anna. It was years later and Anna was now in her early twenties. Many things have happened over the time. Anna still had dreams about her grandfather Cade and Crimson. But not as much as she did as a child. But Anna couldn't be mad; her time was taken up by her job. Anna was now a full time servant in the Forest House in Autumn Court. She was the servant to the Lady of Autumn Court. Which Anna couldn't complain about. Her Lady was kind to her. Very reserved and quiet but kind. Much like herself.
It was one day though when Anna was brushing out the Lady of Autumn Courts hair. When something happened that would change her life. In the middle of brushing her Lady's hair Anna was humming a tune. Both were content at that moment.
When suddenly Anna stopped her humming and movement. She was then staring outside the vast window. There was a call. It was faint but it was there like whispers in the wind. It was as if something was calling out to her... to no one else but Anna.
The Lady was confused. She was wondering why Anna stopped her humming of a peaceful melody, and the brushing of her hair. She then turned to Anna. She was soon asking if Anna was alright. When she didn't hear anything she placed a soft hand on Anna's arm. Which led Anna to look at her with glowing orange eyes. The Lady gasped and leaned away when she heard Anna whisper, "their calling to me... all three of them are calling to me."
"Who is calling to you Annamarie," the Lady asked with worry. She didn't know Anna very well. But she knew enough and was close to Anna. Being Anna was her servant. But Anna didn't answer her, and suddenly she was gone. Which caused the Lady to gasp and wonder where she went. She was quick to look around to see if anyone saw. Knowing if they did Anna would be in trouble and she didn't want that. She wanted to protect Anna. The young fae who has helped her on many occasions.
When Anna woke up she gasped seeing that she was in darkness. She was somewhere in the dark. Which frightened Anna. She was scared but gasped again when she felt something within her. It was her magic. But it was something different of some sort. Then suddenly a light came from her chest turning into an orb of light. Grasping her chest Anna gulped down a breath of air. Looking up at the orb of light she was in a state of awe. She then heard a voice she hadn't heard in months. It was her great grandfather Cade's voice.
"It is time little one. Time to obtain your three dragon eggs. Follow the light... it will guide you," Cade's voice was heard. A tear fell when Anna heard his deep comforting voice. But she wiped it away quickly. Soon she was following his instructions. Anna was then grabbing the end of her dress and walking behind the orb of light.
After some time Anna was walking through the cave for what felt like forever. She then met with a vast looking open area in the cave. Then suddenly the light was zipping in front of her. Then it stopped. Anna was quick to run to it. And there she saw them... three dragon eggs. A laugh escaped her lips but she covered it with her hand. As tears fell down her cheeks. She was overjoyed to have found them. She was then quick to reach out for them.
But as she touched them a painful gasp left her lips. She felt her body burn. It started from her chest and traveled all over her body. Which led her to groan in pain. But she embraced it as she felt her body begin to change. Her pointed ears stretched longer. She then felt her two teeth become pointed into small fangs. Then there was a burning sensation she felt on her chest. And finally the power within her.
A laugh escaped her again. As she picked up all three eggs, hugging them to her chest. But the laughter died down and a gasp escaped her lips. Now realizing that she left and disappeared right in front of the Lady of Autumn Court. She knew she was in trouble. Then before she knew it suddenly she was engulfed in darkness again. And not by her doing. She then found herself on the floor in front of her Lady. Who was looking at Anna with shock.
"Where did you go? What happened?" She asked Anna with concern. As she walked to her from the door. Having kept a lookout making sure no one came into the room. But as she walked closer she looked down and saw what was in Anna's arms. A gasp left her lips as she looked at Anna in awe. As she looked at not one but three dragon eggs.
"You're a Dracontine? Aren't you? You're a descendant of the one called Cade," the Lady asked with wide curious eyes. Anna saw where she was and looked around. Then at the Lady and a soft sob escaped her lips. As she hugged her three dragon eggs close to her chest. She couldn't believe she was here of all places. She couldn't believe she was going to be caught when she just found her eggs.
"it's alright Annamarie I will not tell anyone. I will not breathe a word about this to anyone. I promise," the Lady promised Anna. As she knelt in front of Anna trying to sooth her. She didn't want Anna to worry. She wouldn't tell anyone about such a discovery. Not even the High Lord himself. Once Anna heard this she gasped and quickly looked up at the High Lady of Autumn Court.
"You won't tell anyone? Not even the High Lord Beron?"
"No. I won't. But first let's hide these new ears of yours. And you can tell me as much as you want to. That is if you're comfortable," the Lady smiled widely for the first time in a long time. She couldn't stop herself from being excited. She once had a fascination with dragons herself. Hearing this though caused Anna to smile and nod. She could have hugged the Lady. But she knew it wasn't proper, and her hands were currently full. She was soon telling the Lady a little about her being the next Dracontine. Then telling her about dragons. As the Lady brushed her hair. Making it so that Anna's new longer pointed ears were covered by her long dark brown curly hair. Anna told her she didn't have to do such a thing. But the Lady shook her head and made her stay seated. As she brushed her long curly hair.
Soon when she was done the Lady made sure to give her a small brown bag. A bag that could hang by her side that Anna could put her dragon eggs in. So she would be able to keep them close to her. It was a spelled bag that only Anna could open. She then walked Anna to the servant quarters and then to her small room. They received looks but the Lady didn't care.
The Lady of Autumn Court then allowed Anna time off to go visit her family. Well more so made her take time off to visit her family. Which Anna agreed to reluctantly. The Lady then left with the promise to not tell anyone. Which Anna believed as she waved goodbye to her Lady with a smile.
She then quickly closed the door to her room and locked it. She then bursted into a giggling fit as she hugged the bag to her chest. She then took out her dragon eggs carefully and smiled at them. Whispering to them a promise, "I promise I'll keep you safe my three precious dragons."
───── Dracontine tag-list ─────
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captainwans · 3 months ago
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LAST TRAIN TO LONDON.
pairing: professor!alex turner x student!fem!oc
word count: 6.5k words
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━━ 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄. | 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑳𝑶𝑵𝑮𝑰𝑵𝑮.
summary: nina collett is many things. she’s a devoted mother, a loyal friend, a daughter, and a dedicated student. each aspect of her life has challenges and its sacrifices and she is forced to confront these, demanding her constant attention. amidst the whirlwind of responsibilities and emotions, she finds her professor becoming more involved in her life than she expected, adding another layer of turbulence to her already chaotic life. balancing the fine line between professional boundaries and personal feelings was more difficult than she anticipated, all while she was trying to keep her life from unraveling.
warning: this series contains mature scenes, sexual references, character death, vulgar language, mentions of drug and alcohol abuse, mental illness, age gap (student in her twenties), an excruciating slow-burn (now i’m being dramatic, but you get the picture), other triggering topics, and all the feels (—i’m talking about sweet-teeth rotting fluff that makes you want to evaporate. or soul wrenching angst that feels like a punch in the gut). if any of themes, opinions or content upsets you or makes you uncomfortable, feel free to message me, or simply, do not read it.
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𝓝ina fiddled with her lighter, soft curses emitting from her lips when it didn’t ignite. She cupped her cigarette with one hand, and the corner of her eyes crinkled as she tried to assault her lighter to catch any sparks of fire. After a few tries, a small but weak fire ignited, and she didn’t hesitate to place the cigarette close to the lighter. She placed the stick to her lips, cheeks hollowed before puffing out the smoke. She let out a content sigh, the cigarette resting between her fingers as she let her back hit the platform. 
Nina stared through space, her mind working overtime as she waited for her last train home. Exhaustion engulfed her body like a blanket and she had to close her eyes for a second, her lips turning into a tired sneer as a yawn escaped from her mouth. She had spent the weekend with her closest friends and family, celebrating her best friend for who had just become a new mother. Her lips curled into a smile, the idea of Breana being a mother sent a fluttering warmness into her chest. But that warmness soon manifested into a heavy feeling, more toward herself at her role of being a mother—which she knew Breana would do a hell of a lot job better than her. 
It wasn’t that she was a bad mother—-no, far from it. Her daughter means the world to her and she loves her one-year-old with every fiber of her being. Mathilda was the center of her universe. Every decision, every choice, and every sacrifice had been made for her and it would continue to be so. Yet, as she was watching Breana’s newborn cuddled in his father’s arms, a prickling pain stirred inside her chest. It was a painful reminder that she could never give Mathilda the chance to meet her father.
The tragic fate of her fiancé, Josh, along with carrying a child left a scar deeper than she imagined. Guilt and shame stirred within her, filling every crevice of her brain and shaking her to the core. She often found herself replaying the moment she learned of his death, each replay worsening her misery. It was a memory filled by the harsh words of her mother-in-law, who had called her stupid and an embarrassment. Josh had died in a car accident during a heavy storm, an accident Nina blamed on herself because she had asked him to run some errands that day. It’s your fault. He is dead because of you. Her voice echoed inside her mind, leaching her sense of self. Suddenly, the idea of being a mother with dreams and ambitions felt too far out of reach. It didn’t seem so appealing anymore. She felt hollow, overwhelmed, and scared by the thought of raising a child on her own and finishing her studies seemed like an impossible task.
In the midst of the storm, Nina refused to give up. She kept thinking of Josh and she knew he would never want this for her. Being shunned by her in-laws gave her the chance to focus on what truly mattered—her own family. She didn’t have the best relationship with her parents growing up, but when Mathilda was born, everything changed. Suddenly, there were daily calls, frequent visits, and a lot more affection than she was used to. It felt strange at first, but she slowly got used to it, realizing that she wouldn’t trade it for anything. This was her chance to heal old wounds and finally make things right. 
Mathilda was her own little sunshine—a bright and joyful child who filled the house with laughter, giggles, and warmth. It was something Nina hadn’t known that she needed so much. By looking into those big, innocent eyes, she knew she was going to be okay and that Josh would always be with her, living through Mathilda. Being a mother was the hardest task in her life, but it was also the best task she could ever ask for.
“This is the last train to London. No other trains are leaving for London today.” A male announcer’s monotonic tone pulled her out of her melancholy, making her sigh before throwing her lifeless cigarette on the ground. She stomped on the stick with her heel, hands tightening her bag that was securely wrapped around her shoulder. She stood in line among many others, eyes darting around her. Her hazel eyes found a child, whose doe-eyes were boring into hers as she sat on her mother’s shoulders. 
Nina felt her heart swell, the way the child’s eyes glowered from the lights above, reminding her of her sweet baby girl who was waiting for her to come home. The little girl on her mother’s shoulder brought her little hands up to wave, which she gladly did the same as her lips curved into a sweet smile. She watched a big toothy grin etch onto the baby’s face, lips emitting small giggles. The mother looked up, moving her gaze to where her daughter was looking at. The woman politely smiled toward the female, her head nodding in greeting as she gripped her child’s hands. “She’s pretty, isn’t she, bub?” 
Nina’s heart fluttered, eyes softening at the little girl shyly nodding her head. She hummed, smiling at the woman. She turned her head back to her daughter, a wide smile reaching her features. “And aren’t you the cutest thing ever?” she cooed, fingers tickling her side earning a happy beam. Some turned their heads to the interaction, smiles forming their tired faces, and others who stood in line impatiently and just wanted to hop on the train.
Nina stepped onto the train, her heels loudly clanking against the hard metal ground causing a few heads to turn her way. She felt heat wash over her, blood rushing through her ears at the unwanted attention as she squeezed herself into the cramped space of passengers trying to blend in. Her lips pressed into a thin line, eyebrows furrowed with discomfort as she swarmed into the heavy mass of bodies occupying the exit area. 
She bit her lip, stifling back a groan, feeling someone’s heel stepping on her toes. She clenched her jaw, her narrowed eyes darting across the packed ambiance as she looked for empty seats or even a place to stand. Much to her dismay, it was none as it was inhabited by many other frustrated passengers. She fixed the strap of her bag and clutched it tightly against her body, eyes still searching. But as she was looking her eyes locked with none other than her professor, whose eyes were hesitant, but soft as he gave her a polite smile in greeting.
Her heart leaped out of her chest, feeling a dust of crimson dancing across her cheeks. She rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly, returning his smile with an uncertain simper, mostly to herself as she was contemplating whether or not he was smiling at her or someone else. “Excuse me, ma’am.” 
A rough voice startled her out of her state, head snapping toward a man who was standing beside her, looking rather impatient. She sheepishly apologized, realizing where she was standing, and moved to the side. She blew her cheek out with a heavy breath as her feet led her toward the other side of the train, hand gripping the metal pole tightly.
Her mind started wandering back to him, who was standing a few feet away from her. She could only see his face as his figure was covered by commuters standing in the middle of the train. She wondered what he was wearing since she was used to his formal attire—suit pants, black striped shirt, sometimes a plain white shirt and if you took a closer look you could see a small silver chain wrapped delicately around his neck. A warm feeling settled into her stomach and she cringed for feeling this way about her own professor. It wasn’t like she was in love with him like any other student was, but she couldn’t help but immerse in the idea of seeing him under different circumstances.  
There wasn't that much of an age gap between them and by the looks of it, he looked fairly young compared to other professors and employees in the university. The subject of age seemed to be the most appealing amongst the students, especially for the female students who gave him heart eyes whenever he entered the lecture room. Most of his lectures included cheeky and flirty remarks from the girls in the front row, desperate to grasp his attention. Nina was quite the opposite, well—Mr. Turner was definitely appealing to her eyes, but due to her shame and bashful nature, she prefers to keep her fantasies and opinions to herself. She has for certain thought about him rearranging her insides in the classroom once or twice, but you didn’t hear that from her. 
Besides her infatuation, she finds him incredibly intelligent and a good lecturer. Mr. Turner is quite the talker, which is not surprising with the way the girls are piling up his feet, but that part seems to be irrelevant to him. And she liked that about him—he’s only here to do his job, nothing more. She usually sits in the front row, but distances herself from the annoyingly loud girls who wanted nothing more than to sleep with him. 
     “Mr. Turner, what are your plans this weekend?” A student interrupted the professor mid-sentence, earning his attention as his eyes averted away from the projector, toward the young female who leaned closer against the table with a flirtatious smile. 
     The lecturer held his breath, lips pressed into a thin line as he narrowed his eyes at her. “Nothing that concerns you,” he replied with a tip-lipped smile, brushing off her flirtatious nature as he placed his hands on his hips before clearing his throat. “As I was saying….” he continued with his lecture, ignoring the hushed whispers coming from the girls in the front row. 
     This went back and forth and Nina fought the urge to roll her eyes at one of them as she scribbled down a few words in her notebook. She bit her lip in concentration, eyebrows creasing her forehead whilst trying to pay attention to what he was saying among the loud whispers that were filling every crevice of her brain. She tsked, face morphing into a scowl as she shared a look with her friend, who was sitting beside her just as annoyed.
     Her irritation, along with the rest of the class, seemed to catch his attention, the character in her eyes mirroring his as he noticed her look of discomfort. He paused, causing the room to be quiet too. The hushed whispers and murmurs seemed to cease, everyone holding their breath in anticipation. 
     Mr. Turner stepped closer to his audience, eyes darting across the room as he studied the state of his students. He licked his lips before speaking, hand gripping his projector controller. “Raise your hand if you’re deeply disturbed by the people from the front seat.” he simply told his students with his hand raised, voice calm and stoic. 
     Nina wanted to laugh at how the girls’ expressions changed, looking behind them to see that everyone raised their hand in the air, including her as they voiced their shared complaints. She quietly snickered, covering a hand over her mouth, earning his attention. She saw a glint in his eyes before he moved his head toward his class. “If you’re here for the sake of learning, you’re seated. If there are other reasons, you may leave,” he ordered, sauntering backward.
     His arm was stretched, the controller in his hand marking a red dot pointed toward the door. “The door is right behind me,” he said once again, a small smile reaching his face as he watched the spectacle in front of him. The seats were rearranged as half of the class started leaving, making some students who were seated cheer in delight, making her stifle back a grin. 
     She slumped back into her seat, deeply exhaling as she mumbled incoherent things under her breath. “Thank God,” she sighed, earning a response from her friend. She fixed her posture, hands running over her notes to see where she left off. 
     She watched Mr. Turner’s lips curve upwards, watching them leave the lecture room before moving his head back to his remaining students. She watched his eyes trailing over the front row, and she almost jumped when he locked eyes with her. He gave her a smile and she didn’t know if she was delusional, but she swore she saw him winking at her.
A harsh collision between her and another passenger brought her out of her daydream, feeling their body trapping her against the window. She let out a raspy gasp, the burning ache on her side clawing its way to her throat. She quietly hissed, face forming into a scorn as she brought a hand to her right side. “Fuck,” she murmured, rubbing the area which she knew was going to be a nasty bruise.
Nina’s ears burned with their profuse apologies, and she had to swallow back a shady remark that would probably kick her out of the train. She gritted her teeth in pain, jaw so tightly clutched that she could only nod her head, sending a sharp smile their way before moving her gaze forward. Much to her luck, her eyes found his once again—this time clouding with genuine concern. 
Blood rushed through her face, feeling herself getting hot as her thoughts spiraled out of control. The thought of him watching her getting slammed into the window was enough for her to cringe internally. She looked away for a second, and looked back at him before glancing beside her, unsure eyes looking for another suitable person that he sent his concerns to. She cursed inside her mind, clenching her jaw before looking back at him with a finger pointed at herself. 
Mr. Turner’s lips curved upwards, eyes tinted with amusement as he nodded his head. He watched her mouth turn into an “o”, realization forming her features as she gave him a polite yet bashful smile before nodding. He saw her quickly moving her head, eyes looking elsewhere while being squeezed between two passengers. He felt her discomfort and he wanted to reach out to her and have him close to his side, but he knew that was too far out of his reach. 
The professor’s mind was a hurricane. It was violently raging, swirling, and spinning that it was hard to tell where it was all leading. He looked away, gaze moving away from her toward the hard ground with a puzzled expression. A heavy feeling tugged at his chest. It was like something or someone was sitting on his ribs, crushing till he couldn’t breathe. His eyebrows creased his forehead and he brought his hand up to his chest, clutching his shirt into a fist as if he was trying to remove the shame that was latched into his heart. 
Alex knew it was wrong—very wrong. He had overstepped his boundaries, and he was fighting for his life to keep it professional. He exhaled with a heavy breath, chest heaving as he tried to shake the image of her from his mind. But it was no use; from the moment he saw her in his first lecture, he knew he was doomed. Those hazel eyes, so intently focused on him, seemed to see right through him. The way she listened so intently, with genuine interest and engagement, made him feel a magnetic pull he couldn’t resist. It was as if her presence alone made him feel seen and valued.
Nina was top of his class, exceeding in every topic psychology had to offer. Her grasp of the subject was remarkable and her passion left him sometimes dumbfounded with her captivating insights and perspectives. She definitely left a profound impression on everyone around her—including him. Although she was reserved and quiet during most of his lectures, she had other ways to stand out as the shining star of his class. She was often seated at the front, nose buried in her notebook as she was scribbling down every word that came out of his mouth. She had ‘I’m smart and intelligent’ tattooed on her forehead, and he wasn’t all surprised when some of her classmates desperately volunteered to be in the same discussion group as her. He didn’t want to be the professor who had favorite students, but she was an exception.
     Nina walked forward with a stoic expression, eyes looking anywhere as she got lost in her inner world as she was on her way to her next lecture. She had her books close to her chest, arms crossed like two swords along with her tote bag tightly strapped to her shoulder. Her Chelsea boots skimmed smoothly down the marble floor, fastening their pace as she noticed the hallway slowly turning into traffic. 
     She grimaced, looking at the many students engulfed around the ambiance, just like her, trying to get to their class. Her stomach turned into knots, thoughts wandering over to her professor’s nagging and whining over her lateness. Her professor was a woman in her late 40s, mostly very sweet, but she was very picky and strict over time and punctuality. She could already hear her voice at the back of her head, and she was so immersed in the thought of Mrs. Williams that she didn’t notice someone walk her way. 
     Before her brain could register the sound of her books dropping, along with her glasses, her body collided with a hard chest. She lost balance and fell backward, her body dropping down the hard marble floor with a thud. Her lips emitted a small whimper, eyes squinting as her hands looked for her glasses amidst a busy crowd filled with students. “Shit,” she mumbled, a cloud entering her vision and she felt a burning ache on her right wrist.
     “I am terribly sorry. Here let me help,” she heard a deep–yet soft voice fill inside her eardrums, causing her to look up. She scorned, blinking a few times as she looked in front of her with her blurry vision. Her hand took hold of her glasses and she put them on, seeing the world clearly. 
     She noticed that her book was no longer on the floor and she instinctively looked up, gazing up to see Alex’s apologetic expression while he held his hand for her to help her on her feet. Crimson danced across her cheeks, along with a furiously beating heart as she slowly took his hand. 
     Nina gently brushed him off, voice soft as he hoisted her up to her feet. “N-No, please. I was in my own bubble and didn’t notice you walking towards me.” she sheepishly apologized with a shy smile as she felt him squeeze her hand before letting go, and she hated that he let go. 
     Alex chuckled, “I guess we’re both a little out of it today, huh?” he jested as the pair moved to the side, sauntering away from the busy crowd toward the end of the stairs. Nina held onto the stair rail, eyes looking at the people passing through the big hall. She locked eyes with her friend, standing beside the vending machine, who was looking at her with a knowing look. She gave her a glare at her giving her thumbs up, feeling heat creep upon her face before she moved her attention elsewhere. 
     “Your hand?” His voice pulled her attention toward him, watching his frown deepen as he watched her bruised wrist from the fall. She watched him hesitate for a second, fingers rubbing together before grabbing the hold of her wrist. The warmth from her face made it ten times worse, feeling the blood rush through her ears as she listened to her beating heart. 
     Guilt prickled his chest, lips screwed up as he gently rubbed the bruise. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled in a faint apology, rough fingers moving in a circle pattern as if the bruise would go away. He bit his lower lip, fingers halting his gesture before he finally let go of her hand. He looked at her, a small smile reaching his face as he felt a war inside his mind. He cursed inside his head, feeling like he crossed a line between being professional and overstepping boundaries.  
     Nina didn’t seem to mind. She watched him, heart stuttering against her chest at his touch. Her jaw slacked, and she saw him moving his head, eyes looking at her. She realized that she hadn’t said anything and she blinked before clearing her throat, bashfully smiling. “Oh, it’s fine, really.” she brushed him off, ignoring the throbbing pain on her wrist. She let out a small chuckle. “It’s not the first time I’ve hurt myself going down this hallway. The amount of times I’ve tripped and fallen is pretty concerning.” she tried to lighten up, ceasing some of the guilt that was reaching his eyes. 
     Alex’s chest rumbled with a deep chuckle, lips curving upwards at her simper. He let his body lean against the stair rail, gaze averting away from her toward the busy hall. “Yeah, tell me about it. It’s like watching the Hunger Games or something. I don’t get why they’re all in a rush, though.” he said, lips pressed into a thin line. 
     Nina bit her lip, eyes darting across his handsome features. She looked back at the hall, shrugging with a grin, eyes tinted with playfulness. “Could be a race against who would get to your class first. You see those girls?” she said, pointing a finger at them. “Yeah, definitely in a hurry to sit in the front seat.” she joked, lips emitting a small giggle before turning her head to him.
    Alex grimaced, shaking his head with a laugh. “Oh, god no.” he let out a breathy chuckle, licking his lips. His eyes sparked. “They’re definitely running to Miles’ class. Heard they dropped out of psychology and are taking music studies instead,” he told her, scoffing at the end making her mouth gape open. 
     “What? Really?” She expressed, eyes wide almost building out its sockets as she watched him nodding his head. His eyes danced at her reaction, sending an amused smile her way. “Mhm. Think Miles can handle it, though. He loves the attention.” he said with another chuckle, referring to his colleague and close friend.
     Nina’s eyes lit up at the mention of the music professor. She remembered that he was a substitute for Alex one time and she grew very fond of him during that lecture. Miles Kane was very jovial and full of energy, which seemed to match her class, as they developed a liking to him. While he had no such expertise with Mr. Turner’s subjects, Miles sure had an interesting way of presenting given topics with his competence—being music. 
     She thought about Mrs. Williams’ class and she knew she was already running late, but she couldn’t seem to find the energy to care as she was glued beside her favorite professor indulging in a conversation—which was the longest conversation she’d ever had with him, ever.
     “See you in class at three?” Alex asked with a gentle smile, hope tinted in his voice as he changed the subject.
     He watched her face morph into a small frown as she shook her head. “Sorry. I have a dentist appointment.” He nodded in understanding, his face clouding with slight disappointment at her absence from today’s lecture, but that look quickly vanished as it rapidly appeared. This went unnoticed by the latter and he watched her eyes lit up.
     “Oh, by the way. I couldn’t send the last assignment because my computer is not working at the moment, but I did print it and–uh, wait…I think I got it. I’ll give it to you. Hold on.” she bubbled, words mumbling incoherent words as she roamed her hands around her bag to look for her papers. 
     The professor’s deep chuckle filled her ears, causing a tremor of butterflies to swarm into her stomach. She felt his hand rest on her arm, making her look up. She hated that she was so easily susceptible to him. She felt hot under his touch. She watched him shake his head, slowly pulling his hand away making her frown. “Don’t even worry about it.” 
     Her heart stuttered against her chest, making her let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. She pouted, “Are you sure, Mr. Turner?” she asked him, doe-eyes looking into his soft caramel orbs that she shamefully had grown to love. 
     He nodded, giving her a reassuring smile. “Don’t sweat it. and besides…You’re my A student, and I know that with this assignment it will be just as strong as the others. Your writing is…. incredibly remarking, I must say. I really admire your passion for this subject.” he gushes, lips curving upwards at her response. 
     Nina’s features went from a bashful expression to an appreciative look. Her lips morphed into a smile, showing her teeth as the rapid of her chest stuttered. His words kept repeating inside her head like a mantra and she covered her fingers on her mouth to hide a big grin. She bit her lip, eyes sparking. “T-Thank you, Mr. Turner.” she shyly accepted his compliment, eyes softening at the way he was looking at her with another polite simper. 
     The professor hummed with a tip-lipped smile, mouth closing as the pair fell into silence. Alex’s eyes danced, mirroring the way his stomach swooned with butterflies. He felt a tug at his heartstrings, chest prickling for developing such feelings for his student. As much as he tried to resist, he couldn’t help but let his eyes linger longer on her face. It traced down every feature, every line, and then back to her hazel eyes before trailing down to her lips. 
     “Mr. Turner?” he slightly jumped, her honey-filled voice pulling him back to reality. He blinked, noticing her looking at him with a look he couldn't quite decipher, with her head tilted to the side. Blood rushed through his face, a flustered expression forming his handsome features as he realized that he had been mindlessly staring at her without knowing. He let out a breathy chuckle, heart palpitating against his chest as his lips emitted small apologies. 
     She hummed with a small giggle, shaking her head at him. “It’s quite alright,” she reassured, eyes soft as she watched him let out another chuckle. 
     Alex sighed, loudly cursing inside his head and he looked down at his hands realizing that he was still holding her books. His eyes widened, his brain registering that she was probably headed to her class. “Right…uh–your books. I am so sorry. Here. I’ll see you next week then.” Alex stuttered, handing over her books before clearing his throat and turning on his heel. He grimaced, cursing internally while having his back to her as he fastened his pace. 
     Way to go, Alex. He thought.
Alex snapped out of his state, his tired eyes moving from the filthy ground toward her, again. He quickly looked away as a small curse emitted from his lips, feeling like a predator watching his prey. He ran a hand over his hair, his hand carding through his locks, his nails lightly scraping at his scalp. He closed his eyes, a long sigh escaping from his lips, and letting his back hit the wall. Stop looking at her, you fucking creep. He thought to himself, jaw clenched so hard that it would break at any second. 
Should I ask her to stand beside me, or is that weird? He thought, his handsome features morphing into a grimace. He bit his lower lip, hand tightening around the grip handle as he was battling internal turmoil. But she looks uncomfortable, though. Should I do it–no, fuck. It makes you look weird—His train of thought was abruptly interrupted by an awkward cough coming from behind him. “Excuse me.”
Alex shifted his body to the side while his hand was holding the grip handle to prevent him from falling. He looked at them, eyes apologetic as he let them through. He felt heat flood over his face, realizing that he had taken up the entire space. He was so immersed in his own world that he forgot everything else around him. 
A small giggle earned his attention, head whirled toward the sound coming next to him. His gaze softened, watching a little girl nestled into her mother’s arms. The child had her eyes on him, doe-eyes curiously staring at him with a happy beam. His lips curled up, bringing his hand out to wave. Her reaction was laughable, making Alex chuckle as he watched her shyly hide her face in her mother’s chest. 
He moved his gaze away, eyes staring through empty space. He felt eyes on him, making him clench his jaw. He knew it was her and he felt her boring her eyes into the side of his head. It felt like he was going to have holes in his temple and he was contemplating his next actions. When he couldn’t handle it anymore, he finally looked over at her, still in the same uncomfortable position with commuters wedged between her. 
Alex felt his heart skip a beat as he watched her sending him a small smile. He returned her smile, eyes growing tender. ‘Are you okay?’ he mouthed, referring to her current state. His stomach turned into knots, watching her huddled into a corner, trapped into the cramped space. He saw her nod her head, shoulders shrugging as she gave him a tired look. Fuck it, I’m doing it. he thought.
The never ending battle inside his head ceased and he didn’t know where the sudden confidence came from. The professor gestured with his head to the space next to him, indicating for her to stand. He saw her face etch into a confused look, tilting her head to the side. He gave her a look, eyes tinted with slight amusement and he gestured with his hand, pointing next to him. 
Realization dawned on her face. A flustered expression formed her delicate features, lips curled up as she mirrored his simper with a shy nod. She looked beside her, noticing a passenger asleep on her shoulder. She blew out a small breath, face gracing with a scorn as she carefully moved her shoulder. She shifted her body to the side, making the person’s head hit the window. She stifled back a laugh, chewing on her bottom lip as she was trying to squeeze through the crowded space. 
Nina deeply exhaled, not realizing she was holding her breath. Her eyes found him as she was walking toward him, whose face was painted with amusement at her situation. Her lips curved up, a dust of pink dancing across her cheeks as she held her bag close to her body. Her other hand was gripping on the rubber handle to keep her from falling, but the train lurched causing her to stumble on her feet. She gripped on the handle with both hands, feeling the train sped along the tracks, swaying side to side that made it difficult to walk. 
“Fucking hell,” she muttered under her breath, the train’s erratic jerks nearly throwing her off her balance. She managed to carefully make her way toward him, but just as she neared her professor, she tripped over her own feet. Her lips uttered a small squeak just as he caught her in time, steadying her with a firm grip before she could fall. “Woah there—-I’ve got you.” his deep voice filled inside her eardrums, feeling his arm around her waist.
Nina felt a flush of embarrassment creeping up her neck, eyes looking anywhere but him. She let his touch soak into her skin, his warmth sending electricity through her. She turned to face him, suddenly aware of how close they were standing. She watched him smiling softly down at her, “Well, that would’ve been one way to make an entrance.” she heard him say, making her lips twitch upwards. 
Nina hummed with a small chuckle, eyes sparking. “I guess I’ve got a future in stunt work if my psychology degree doesn’t pan out.” she jested, wiggling her eyebrows making her professor laugh. She joined him, but their laughter seemed to abruptly cease, noticing some people on the train giving them disapproving looks. 
The pair looked back at each other, stifling back another laugh. Alex looked at the old couple glaring daggers at them, his lips curving upwards. “Someone skipped their coffee this morning.” he said in a small voice, his voice barely above a whisper, but she heard him nonetheless. 
Nina nodded her head, a simper resting on her lips. "You’re right. They look like they could use a strong cup right now.” she whispered, eyes averting away from the couple toward him, her grin widening as they both dissolved in quiet laughter.
The Collett girl tried her best to stomp down the butterflies that swarmed into her stomach, the sound of his laughter sending her almost reeling. She felt a flush of rose spread across her cheeks, along with a furiously beating heart that she was so sure of him hearing. Nina was taken off guard how they effortlessly fell into a conversation, their words flowing as freely as the train moved along the tracks. 
She couldn’t grasp where she got her sudden confidence from, her shyness melting away as they talked about anything and everything that came to mind. He told her about his passion for music, revealing a side of him she hadn’t expected. She shared snippets of her life, but hesitating to mention her daughter waiting for her at home. She felt it wasn’t the time nor the place to reveal such information, yet.  
The conversation flowed, creating a pleasant rhythm between them. Yet, as the conversation eventually began to fade, a comfortable silence engulfed around them. They exchanged occasional glances from time to time, gentle smiles and soft looks toward each other. The train rumbled along, the clatter of tracks being the only sound that was heard over the cramped ambiance. It was quiet on the train. There were a few murmurs and hushed whispers from a few passengers, while the rest were either seated or standing with tired expressions, face blunt as a white canvas. It created a peaceful atmosphere, allowing people to retreat into their own thoughts. 
Then, the silence was interrupted by a sudden jolt as the train lurched violently. Nina was caught off guard, losing her balance and before she could react she was flung forward. She collided with her professor, her body slamming into his hard chest. Her hands instinctively flew out, placing against his chest as she crashed into him, the scent of his cologne filling her senses. 
Alex’s arms were around her in an instant, hand gripping her waist with a firm but gentle hold, keeping her on her toes. “I got you, love.” he grunted, the use of an endearment slipping from his lips. Time seemed to slow as she looked up, her breath hitching as their eyes met. The world outside the train seemed to fade away, leaving only the pair wrapped in each other’s presence. 
Nina opened her mouth, but closed it, not knowing what to say. She was so immersed in his touch that she found herself unable to speak. Her fingers subconsciously curled against the fabric of his shirt as she looked at him. Her heart stammered against her chest, feeling blood rushing through her ears. She grew hot under his touch, his rough fingers tracing down her back was enough to make her pulse quicken. 
“Arriving in Paddington station.” The female announcer said through the speaker, causing the train to come to a stop. Some passengers flew out of the train, others were racing to get a seat or even a comfortable place to stand. 
A soft smile tugged at the corner of Alex’s lips, his firm yet gentle grip on her waist slowly loosening. It was as if he was reluctant to let her go. “There’s your stop,” he whispered, his hand running down her back comfortably before finally letting her go. And he hated that he had to let her go.
Nina seemed to snap back to her state, eyes blinking as she realized that she was still nestled up to his chest. A warm blushed tinged her face and she slowly left her hand, turning to her side to watch the passengers desperately trying to leave the packed train. She felt cold when his hand left her waist, along with the warmth of her face disappearing, as if someone was leaching all of the vibrancy out of her skin. A heavy feeling settled into her stomach and she exhaled before turning back to her professor. 
There was something in the way he was looking at her that made her stop in her tracks. His caramel eyes seemed to hold her in place, making the back of her hair stand up. She wanted to move and exit the train, but it was like her feet were glued to the ground. Her heart was having a war with how it was violently beating, and she wondered if everyone on the train could hear how fast it was thudding. She wanted to say something, but her mind was a swirling fog, preventing her from expressing her thoughts.
Someone brushing their shoulders with hers seemed to pull her back yet again from her spiraling mind. She bit her lip, feet slowly sauntering toward a small group of people ready to leave the train. She halted with her steps and turned her body toward him again with a kind smile. “See you next week, Mr. Turner.” she sheepishly bid her goodbyes, leaving him alone with his thoughts.
He watched her leave in a hurry, her body disappearing into the mass as the door closed. He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. A frown was growing on his features, eyebrows creasing his forehead as he looked at the door. His own reflection was staring right back at him and he looked away, his gaze forward as his mind went haywire. 
Nina Collett, who are you really? He thought to himself.
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