Silver Creek [m]Lost and afraid

Mature Content Warning

This thread has been marked as mature. By reading and/or participating in this thread, you acknowledge that you are of age or have permission from your parents to do so.

The participants have indicated the following reason(s) for this warning: Mentions of sexual assault, persuasion, Stockholm syndrome like behaviors.

His touch sent shivers down her spine—old Reina would have pulled away, snarling and teeth snapping. Not this new Reina, no. No, she craved HIS touch, the attention he gave her. It was unclear how this came to be. Was it the poppy? Or, was this truly her, what she had wanted all along? 

Someone to choose her, to keep her for their very own. 

No one that she loved had ever chosen her, forever suspending her in this abysmal purgatory that she had put herself in while in the Willows. Reverie was like a violent tide during a brewing storm, smashing into her, splintering her heart only to recoil, putting her at a distance that was safe from Reina’s bleeding heart. Everett was not so destructive; his life had become preoccupied with his sister and the babies, caring for them and their needs or doing whatever it is that his sister asked. The red woman could not blame him for it, not entirely, but she found it difficult to stifle the feelings of abandonment, of loss…of jealousy.

Jealousy in those on the receiving end of the love and devotion that the embodiments of her heart freely gave; but never, never given to her. She did not matter to them, to anyone… 

But—that wasn’t true, was it? 

Dull eyes found Him, Ruin, a ghost from her past returned to the land of the living. Or, maybe—hopefully—Reina was actually dead. This would make more sense, after all; never in her life would she consort with her enemy, the male who killed her entire family. Though, here she was, consorting. Worshipping.

Loving.

In her perpetual stupor, many things had happened; flashes assaulted her memories, letting through images of Ruin using her, abusing her, then comforting her, building her up again and again until all she felt was his love. Adoration. His devotion. He chose her. 

Someone had chosen her. 

And, because of this, she leaned into his touch, a sultry smile reaching dead eyes. “Yes, my love, that is a wonderful idea.” Her body rose at his command, her eyes never leaving his as he led her away from the Creek.

Though, she stole one last glance behind her; a sad, wistful visage as she asked, softly, “Can my friends come, too?”