𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐒。 black clover

29; ɴᴀᴄʜᴛ ☾ ✹

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heavy
—linkin park, kiiara

1:47 ──────|─── 2:50

|◁ II ▷|

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『FAMILY | ANGST』
nacht x female! reader
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includes suicidal themes. if you're not comfortable. please dont read it.
you've been warned
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Reader's P.O.V.

I have always been the outsider. No matter how much I tried to blend in, it would never work.

The Black Bulls is a wonderful family, something I have always wanted and needed. The small amount of love I received when I was a child was traumatizing enough to prove that I can't trust nor help others.

As I was a child, my parents have always taken care of me. I was glad to be under a roof, eating, healthy, and bestowed with 2 parental figures.

But it was until I was enough to realize that this family was a lie. They took me from my real home, kidnapping me to self me off when I came to age. I was 5 back then, I saw them revealed their true selves. They have kidnapped, tortured, robbed, and killed so many people and I knew that it was evil.

I saw the bloodstains they left out, outside the doors, and when they found out, they told me to keep quiet, and which I did.

I thought it was better that way. Their actions are cruel and unforgivable, but I thought it was better to keep it silent. My family portrait would be alright that way.

Although, there was one time that my father took a man, nearing him to his end. I saved that man, begging my way to my father to release him. My father looked at me, bewildered by my action. His words were serious and cruel, "This man deserves to die. You shouldn't be the hero here. You're just a good for nothing slave. You useless piece of shit."

And with that, the man behind me was decapitated, leaving my small fragile body to cower as the blood-splattered over my clothes and skin.

Day by day, their actions changed towards me. Their waves of anger would be directed over me. My screaming will always be around the basement. The searing pain enveloped me, every hits and punch I received from my 'parents'.

I truly believed that families don't torture each other. Although, by the crazy amount of times I received the brutal attacks. My chained body laying over the cold hard table, my blood surrounding me. Their magic used on me to make me cry in anguish. My memories and ability to remember cut short every time. It happened daily, resulting in severe mental problems for me until now.

Carving my skin with a knife, leaving an excruciating pain and grievous memories from the past. I remembered their wicked laugh as they joyfully scarred my fragile, skimpy skin. A traumatizing feeling, just unforgettable. Their words carved my mind, "You can't do anything. You can never help others. Don't be the hero, because you'll never be able to do it. You're just a disappointment. You're useless. We can't sell you off anymore, with this."