Crescent -ateez&skz x reader

Chapter one: The boy in the stocks

Chapter warnings: mentions of abusive father, nothing graphic.

It was the sound of the loud, cruel laughter of castle guards and various cold hearted villagers that tore you from your sleep. It was rare your lady allowed you a day of rest, yet when one is given the castle decides to drag another poor soul to the village stocks? As if to mock the very definition of rest. You could care less about the physical definition, but knowing of someone's suffering but a few meters from your door laughs in the face of a more psychological definition. The kind of rest you truly need. Maybe that's a selfish take on the matter, but living in such environments forces you to adopt such a mindset. Living in this kingdom assures you that whoever is currently being forced into the stocks less than deserving of the humiliation.

Having long learned not to watch such torment; you try to block out the sound of rotten vegetables exploding against wood and flesh. You force yourself out of bed, make sure the sheets are properly made and wipe the sweat and visible grime from your body with a damp cloth before pulling your clothes on. It's dark in the room, you're unable afford wasting the candles in daylight hours so, steeling your nerves you swing open the window shutters, desperately trying to avoid the scene outside of them. You begin busying yourself with general domestic work when the sound of your father's laughter and mocking reaches your ears, causing your attention to snap to the window in disgust. He should be above this, it's a disgrace to your mother's memory for him to include himself in such an event. He will surely do more than scold you if you intervene but you cannot stand idly. A foolish decision? Perhaps. But one you do not care for the consequences of, you are more than accustomed to his backwards parenting methods.

You walk calmly out of the house and easily spot your father's head of black unkept hair amongst the crowd, politely making your way through the masses to reach his side. He hasn't noticed you yet and begins his next verbal assault.
"Look at this rat, can't even meet our eyes when we speak to him. A poor excuse for a man indeed, ever fitting that he be here"
You cringe at his words, he's truly one to talk about being a 'man', he reaches for another rotten tomato and is preparing to launch it at the man when you gently take a hold of his arm.

"Father I think we should go inside, mother wouldn't approve of this, and neither do I"

At this, the man in the stocks raises his head to the source of the calm voice. Your father gives you an incredulous look of poorly masked anger and disgust, a concoction which unnerves me and causes the woman just behind you to attempt tugging your form towards her. He grips your arm harshly though and yanks you into his space before practically hissing,

"No Alra, I suggest you go inside, this instant. How dare you attempt to embarrass me, I will deal with you later" he finishes before snapping his arm away from him sending you off balance, you barely catch yourself but find yourself now meeting the eye of the man in the stocks.

He is surely around your age, slightly shaggy black hair falling around his defined face. His youthful look makes him seem more of a boy than a man, deepening your anger at his situation. His expression and eyes are what strike you though, he is looking at you with none of the expected hurt and embarrassment the punishment aims to induce. His countenance is that of pure curiosity, and he offers you a small smile of gratitude for your words which you return despite the confusion your own expression must emit.

You make your way silently back through the crowd to your door, various villagers offering you looks of either disgust or barely concealed laughter at your act of deviance to your father.

The man in the stocks observes you until you vanish from his view. The tomato finds it's target causing him to tilt his face away as it splatters onto his cheek, now facing your window he finds comfort in seeing you.

You busy yourself again with domestic work, attempting to hold back the emotions before giving in, continuing folding linens with tears silently running down your face.

The man's face twists in confusion at this, before dropping his head, not wanting to spy on your sadness. It'll all be over soon, the guards will drag drag him back to his cell soon enough. Until then he will bask in the comfort of your actions.