Because I Swore To Myself
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- Votes 24
- Parts 9
"They spoke of her as if she were the most disgusting specimen a scientist could have found. They muttered her name and whispered about her more than the charactors in Harry Potter book would whisper about Lord Voldamort. They say she is overweight and has a disgusting sized body and that her face was round and greasy with acne covering her big round face. They say that she has crooked and yellow teeth that can open any canned food. They say that her eyes were the darkest shade of swamp green that they made anyone and everyone hurl at the sights of them, Her clothes were thin and decrepit from being worn everyday, She wore dark skinny jeans and a big black zip up jacket that was about 2 sizes too big her shoes squeaked one the floor of the school or the house from being thin and overworn. They said she was poor and ugly, thus making her worthless and sadly...She belived it" How would I know these stories?? Well to be 100% honest...She was me, and I can honestly say that I believed them with all my heart. Believed I was useless and that all I was good for was a punching bag...So after the rejection of the one ment to love hold and worship the ground I walked on, after the rejection of my mate; I swore to myself and to my wolf that I would prove them wrong. But to do that I would have to take the first step: Leaving this hell on earth they called a pack.
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Clemont x Reader [OLD]
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Power and Persecution [1] || Harry Potter x OC x Draco Malfoy
⋆⭒˚｡⋆BOOK 1 OF 3⋆⭒˚｡⋆ What if Harry and Draco weren't enemies because of a rejected friendship or jealousy? What if it was because they both fell for the same girl? ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ˚★⋆｡˚ ⋆ ┊ ┊ ┊ ⋆ ┊ ┊ ★⋆ ┊ ◦ ★⋆ ┊ . ˚ ˚★ With great power comes great persecution. Mabel Whitlock enters the Wizarding World and quickly becomes placed in a dangerous situation. She's powerful in a time where said power is required by both light and dark sides. Light and dark sides that she is torn between for various reasons. Family, responsibility, fear, love. Questions need answers. But it's the risk of whether those answers are ones Bel wants to hear. Soon, and with every passing year, things become more and more clear. And more and more dark. ⋆｡°✩[Powerfem!OC x Harry Potter]⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩[Powerfem!OC x Draco Malfoy]⋆｡°✩ WELCOME TO POWER AND PERSECUTION :) This is my first HP FF. I have been planning this one through for years now and am so excited to finally be writing it. I'm so happy you've chosen this one and I hope you enjoy, if you don't that's also chill too, my writing isn't brilliant I don't blame u lol I should warn you now, this is ur basic fanfic. I'm talking an overpowered OC with multiple love interests. But hey, it's cliche for a reason ... ENJOY Y'ALL :) TRIGGER WARNING : There will be mentions of emotional and physical abuse, flashbacks, sexual themes and some strong language. If any of these might trigger you, please go and try out another one of the incredible fanfics! Feel free to return when you feel comfortable :) All rights go to Warner Bros. and JK Rowling for the characters and the world in this fanfic. I only take credit for my OCs and original scenes xxComplete
The drip, drip brought back the memory of those screams. She could smell the crimson from that day, or was it crimson, salt, left behind by the blood and tears of some other prisoner. Were they abused? She wondered. How were her children. She thought of them a dozen times a day, she asked the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost to keep them safe. Jamil she had long ago realized would be spared his father's beatings. That day only brought it to her conscious. She had always known. But she saw it that day. Her beautiful daughter Maryam, that was who she was more worried about. Drip, drip. Splat. Splat. The water smelled bad. Sour, of shit. It tasted even worse. She had been forced to drink it, they had starved her, and deprived her of water for a few days. Was it days? She didn't know. There was no night and day in this place. Just the collective quiet and screams for food, for water, for mercy. Confessions of sins that the prisoners had not committed, anything to get out. Most harrowing were the screams. The whips, the flays, the screams. She winced every time she heard one. She shivered the first time she had heard one. She shuddered as she thought of that. The hair on her back rose, she pulled her arms around herself. It was unearthly. Not an animal's scream, not her screams when her husband beat her, not even when he had hit her with a bat. Not the screams of the dog that those kids had cornered, and were poking with sticks, some throwing stones at it, as if it were the devil himself. No, none of those screams. This came from a deeper place. This was a scream from before civilization. From before language. This was a scream, guttural. Loud, screeching, very much in pain.
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