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blueberrypancakesworld · 4 months

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The breaking will of man

Faramir x fem!elven reader

warning : dead dove, +18, smut, rape, obsession, dark themes, manipulation, kissing, hair pulling, biting, breeding kink, faramir has some special kind of thoughts

Summary : A ring and an unstoppable power wielded by a group and on the finger of a hobbit. A group in which two Elven traveled the prince of Mirkwood and an Elf a beautiful light from Lórien. But when a shadow of greed and recognition settles over the group, love becomes corrupt and consequent consequences...for the prince of a realm on the brink of war.

Info : It had to be something very dark again after a long time, so only if you can and want to read something like this do it. Thanks as always to the wonderful @rl-nancyholbrook for this idea and have fun reading :)

ps : I have not read the book only watched the movies I try to get everything as good as I can but please bear with me.

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A ring brings power. A ring of seeming gold a pretty expensive but also noble metal but no it was older so much whiter. A material that did not melt in flames, a metal that did not start to rust in water. A metal that would only melt if you threw it into the Orodruin, the mountain that held history and death.

The legends and tales of the ages were known, but it was all so long ago that hardly anyone was still able to tell them, except for the elves and perhaps the dwarves.

Then there were the humans, who existed everywhere but were too weak in the face of natural time. But even if it was in their heads, there were some among them who didn't want to know about it.

A family around the Steward of Gondor. A family that had its own problems the selfish and heartless father a man without love after the death of his beloved his eldest son Boromir engaged in the uprisings and wars to defend Gondor against the creatures of the enemy. The pride of his father in stark contrast to his younger brother Faramir.

A young man only five years younger but it was his softer nature the shadow of his dead mother's mother that must have loomed over him this something of a black creature in the family without recognition.

It was he who was sent by his father to Rivendell to answer the call of the half-living Lord Elrond, a call that could and very likely would end in death, as not only the group knew but also the steward who did not shed a tear for his son as he bade him farewell.

Boromir alone showed concern but in the end Faramir had to make this long journey alone in an unknown group not knowing that when he arrived several moons later he would meet someone who would awaken something human in him. Corruption and desire.

As the moons rose and set, the sun rose and retreated, time passed and the group arrived one by one. A group of humans, elves, a wizard and four halflings.

But when his eyes, which had previously focused on the beautiful architecture, realized the beauty of the ornaments of the flowers and blossoms, he saw it. It was like a presence not a childlike one like the four of them or a welcoming one from Legolas, nor was it protective like Aragorn looking at the younger human.

They had both sensed it this something this light indescribable and yet emerging. He heard the language of the elves from the lips of the blond who saw them first, but the words had no meaning for the redhead.

Words that Aragorn replied to and Faramir felt this tug of jealousy through his body for a long time where otherwise there was restraint and understanding. Empty words that I can speak better only for you. Rising from his chair, he heard the rustling of leaves and the bright white flowers flying across the ground towards him as he took his place in front of her.

His blue met her light-like eyes a white almost blind and yet sparkling like a star. ,,An honor to meet you Faramir Capitan the Ranger of Ithilien son of Denethor the Second. May my bow loyally protect us all,” he introduced himself and bowed slightly, a gesture that brought a soft smile to her lips and a curtsy to her dress.

His blue eyes were like the beautiful natural sky, the red of his hair like the evening sun and a loving manner. A man, a human being someone mortal who stood before her and yet engaging in her way. The doubts her mistress and master had told her that people always gave in to power but how could this stand for this group for him this dear Faramir...no he was sincere.

,,I am pleased to meet you and all of you, your words full of loyalty as palpable as the beauty of this valley” she replied and looked at him for a moment before she sat down and Lord Elrond joined them to discuss the plan one by one.

But his gaze would not and could not leave her and he kept looking at her, unable to move. This innocence and purity. Meanwhile, she felt his sky-blue eyes on her, mistaking his devotion for fascination and kindness.

Because everyone had something good in them, a naivety for which she was recognized, but in a world of darkness one had to see good.

A thought she held on to and smiled at Faramir, smiled at the others and above all saw hope and peace in the four halflings. Four halflings full of joy and courage like our group shall protect you. ,,A light is shining and I know that peace will come like a sunrise” her words supported her and she saw the nods of the four who seemed more sure of themselves than ever, more sure than ever of anything.

Words that lifted her spirits as they mounted their mounts the next morning and she felt Faramir's gaze on her as he held the reins of her white horse. ,,You have been waiting?” she asked as she was one of the last to say goodbye not only to Elrond but also to the ancient artifacts.

She was all the more surprised when she walked up the stairs to the courtyard, her white dress, a gift from her mistress, ending just short of her shoes and she stood by her horse. ,,Of course my lady your horse seemed nervous I wanted to calm him down” he said and she smiled at the nickname knowing no she had sensed that his love of nature was not just from the rangers.

Nature is as beautiful as love, as beautiful as feelings. ,,Thank you Faramir Gil is nervous when the life of the world is fading” she confessed and mounted her ferd accepting Faramir's gloved hand gratefully before finally taking the reins in her hand.

Her body is handsome and graceful above me so I would like to touch her...if the light passes to me. Moving the reins of her almost soulmate only slightly, the horse started to move followed by Faramir who swung himself onto his black horse and after a few more moments the group left the place and headed towards the mountain.

A mountain they feared and hoped for. But it was Faramir who always rode behind or beside them, casting a shadow on her light. He talked to her about his homeland, the animals and nature, and she couldn't help but laugh and listen to him with fascination.

Her senses did not perceive the brilliance in the blue of his eyes, a brilliance that could not be seen in the reflection of the water of the river or the sun.

An invisible brilliance like the metal of the ring, a brilliance that called to Faramir, a brilliance of recognition. ,,Your recognition means everything to me...my father thinks differently” she heard him confess at one point, saw him turn his face away and despite the setting sun her good eyes saw that he was flushed.

My mistress was right people have feelings of togetherness and shame they know what is right and wrong she remembered Galadriel's words and her hand automatically went to his and gently squeezed it, ,,Don't worry your father the steward should be proud of such a son”.

Her words full of devotion, a naivety on her part that did not see how Faramir's heart beat faster and in the breath of a wind he got an idea. An idea, a thought as if whispered by the ring Your words should only belong to me words that reached him and words that burned themselves into his heart.

He gave her a smile before riding a little faster to catch up with Frodo, wanting to feel that breeze, that voice, that attraction again. Could he succumb so quickly?

Should his father's disappointment really be such a disappointment to himself, should he really have fallen for an Elf or was it simply the new freedom and adventure before him? He couldn't answer it didn't know what it was that drove him to keep his eyes gliding to her.

This beauty A queen he thought of this painful dream he had a painful dream that would never be. Faramir the next Steward of Gondor his father finally filled with pride and Boromir as much as he loved his brother would no longer protect him. There had to be something…or someone.

The journey not only of the ring-bearer but also of the others had now begun, a moon had passed and they had all rested together around the fire, talking, laughing, joking and telling stories from their homeland and their past.

Above all, everyone listened to the two elves who had so many centuries of stories to tell about beings and gods, about species that were no longer among them.

The redhead was particularly fascinated by the fact that the flame of fire turned white when she ran her hand over it. ,,A simple feeling of nature full of empathy,” she said, matching the figures to Legolas' story of a fight against his childhood friend while her bright eyes full of knowledge and joy looked from the fire over the group.

Nothing but kindness and openness towards them and of the conversations he had with her as they looked for berries and firewood together, always clearing away a few branches and helping her not to stumble.

A thing that was of course completely unnecessary and because she had taken his hand, ,,You are light” was the first thing that had slipped out of his mind, he had never really looked at the body of elves before and yet it surprised him, he held her clearly and yet she seemed to float almost above everything.

His sentence that made him blush with shame at such a noble lady only made her laugh and let her other hand rest against him as she jumped from a fallen tree trunk. ,,Elves are light and you humans…Misstres Galadriel is wrong you humans have been a changeable people full of emotion and kindness” she replied and leaned her forehead against his for a moment a moment in which he felt her warmth a moment in which he thought he felt everything a moment in which they were close…a moment in which his hand held her as tightly as he would from now on.

Since then, he stayed even closer to her, to her light, to her warmth, to her blessing, to everything. During the attacks, which at first were still tentative and even if calming, he looked away from Frodo, who was actually the target, and even though she had her dagger, he knew that an even greater power lurked in her pretty body. That with every bow shot he fired, every arrow he shot, there was an opponent who looked into her direction.

A fact that not only he himself noticed, everyone seemed to except her. ,,You take great care of her Faramir, you are like your brother,” Aragorn once said to him when they were both fetching water together to wash some clothes and clean their weapons from the blood of fallen beasts and orcs.

A statement that annoyed and even threatened to enrage the red-haired prince's bright eyes looked at the king with distaste, ,,I am not my brother Aragorn and is it not a man's duty to protect every woman and child?” he left the king at the river with the question. He did not see the look on Frodo's face, who saw from afar how he put the ring in his shirt and almost felt something like a pull towards the man.

A metal of strength is about to find a new owner. But the few incidents did not stop there and the days went on, they went on and on and at some point he himself came to the mines full of terrible monsters in which he saw for the first time what she was capable of.

The mine seemed to collapse, the creatures too many and Faramir knew that he would soon run out of arrows, Legolas tried to protect the hobbits while saving Gimli from any stones while Aragorn tried to lure the hell troll to him and was backed down by the red-haired one.

Only she stayed with the wizard who was also trying to free Peri and Meri who were half trapped under stones. There was a loud clamor from all around and Faramir remembered the battles he had fought, battles that seemed so much easier to fight with the one ring.

A thought followed by a glance at Frodo who was wounded, a thought that made him careless he did not see the hell troll throw a stone at him. ,,Faramir!” her voice called after him, his bright eyes looking to her but she was gone, she was just standing there.

Did it matter if he was going to be crushed by the stone at any moment? The pain would be strong but short and then a light a light in front of him a light that deflected the stone with a blow and it crumbled against the wall.

A light with a power he never knew she had in her, so strong that it could not reach Galadriel but so strong that even Gandalf looked at her for a moment. ,,Are you all right?” she asked standing in front of him in this fight and at that moment he wanted nothing more than to pull her close and finally kiss her to show her that he was not only worth saving but that he could be more than just a helpless twelfth son.

A greed that commanded him and would not let go, a lust for power and light within her. A desire something that matured in him as this battle ended as they moved on as they lost Gandalf their tears glistened in the dark and Faramir held her close and he not only felt her heart beat in his chest, he held her tender hands and gently stroked her back.

It was a time in which the group rode more and more into the dark world in which they were pursued and hunted and crossed the river and the courage of the group sank significantly after Gandalf's death, he was now an important part of the group, a powerful ally who was now gone. But now, as they looked back at the campfire, the sun was setting after their arduous journey across the lake.

The rays no longer illuminated the group and he saw how the gleam in her eyes seemed to have dimmed after the grief, ,,Do you want to go fetch wood with me again?” he leaned over to her without sitting close to her, his hand next to hers and brushing against hers again and again.

He knew that the others saw when they wanted to, he knew that the others saw him…that the others looked at his pretty Elbe. That the others wanted her too, but he paid attention to her, he was the only one who dared to look at her beauty like that if it was only for him. A prince with treasure for his father's appreciation forgiveness and obsession spreading in him.

She nodded and gave the group a gentle smile, reassuring the hobbits that they would be right back and they could take care of themselves before the two of them walked away from the group of hobbits that was sitting on the riverbank and into the forest.

Despite the fact that the sun had already set slightly, the leaves shone in a yellow orange and red hue making their own field and Faramir saw how his pretty light seemed to adore the forest.

Her eyes were closed, ,,I've never seen the dark streak before,” he commented as she tucked a few of her loose light hairs behind her cute pointed ears, a single cob black streak beneath the light blonde hair.

She nodded and opened her eyes to look at him, ,,The darkness that spreads the journey will be so desperate by the time we reach the mountain that even Legolas will feel uncomfortable. The connection to my home is fading…the streak a symbol of the loss and rebirth of Gandaldf” she replied and continued to walk a little ahead looking for wood on the ground but the further they walked not only seemed to move away from the others but she did not see the same darkness behind her.

As the prince's bright eyes went from her to the small old ruin an old constuction a well whatever it was a constuction of times past. But they both no they both had something together a future it was only clear that he had something special with him in that future. ,,I'll have you by my side for the future to come,” he said, moving slightly around her, seeing her sit down on the stone, seemingly feeling the past and a soft smile playing around her lips again.

,,Yes, it is good to know you are a loyal companion with us, Faramir,” she replied, a hint of naivety in her eyes, her good humor almost cute that such a high holy being was so stupid, a stupid elf made for him. His pretty queen at his side and it would only take a bow shot to kill Frodo, he would kill the hobbit himself with his hands if he got the ring that way.

She didn't see the dark cloak's hood blow off his head in the breeze, his usually bright eyes darkening as something corrupted him. The wolf of the group released his cloak and bit. Reaching his hand out to her he took hers and pulled her up from the stone she stood before him hearing her slightly confused, ,,Faramir?” before he pulled her closer finally kissing those lips as that voice inside him demanded, as that voice had demanded from the beginning.

He heard another stifled sound from her, like she wanted to say something else but was lost in the kiss. He felt her strength as she tried to break away, her voice sounding like she wanted to call for help, but with a swift push of his foot he made her topple over, her graceful manner seemingly gone in the face of a situation that was new to her. He could feel a trepidation in him at the thought that he would be her first in all her lifetime, her first and only.

A human prince, no, soon a steward who would make such a pretty maiden his. ,,Shhh not so my light I'll take care of you the others won't hurt you” he murmured to her after he had detached himself from her her body hit the leafy ground but she seemed to catch herself for a moment he saw her holler.

A fist that would have hit had he not slipped a hand under her dress and squeezed the skin of her thigh. Feeling the soft flesh in his hand, he knew now how soft she was, how soft her skin was, how beautiful his bites and kisses would look on her skin.

Her blow was little more than a light push against his chest she tried to crawl away from him the leaves crunched but he wouldn't let her shift his weight forward too hard for her to get away.

,,Faramir, please, not me-I never have,” she tried to say in her sweet belief that she could still get rid of him that way, but she cracked as the redhead laughed and his one hand, still running over her soft skin, moved closer to her hair with the other, his lips kissing her clothed breasts.

But the fabric could hardly have done any harm, it was not yet the right time to sacrifice the group for her, he would still need time. But the wolf had plenty of time to feast on her. ,,You've never been such a pretty creature, tell me?” he asked, tugging lightly on her hair and watching the warmth of shame flinch away from her body, such a pretty emotion on her, simply enchanting.

She seemed so vulnerable and almost as dirty as a human being, degrading such a beautiful creature with abilities he would never have into something despicably sentient. Heavenly. ,,Come on tell me dear,” he demanded, letting go of her hair and pulling her ear instead before biting into it, smirking when he heard her sigh and she seemed surprised by her own noises and avoided his gaze.

But he wanted to see her, wanted to see everything of her, which is why his lips ran over her breasts, the fabric showing slight dull wet spots where he ran his tongue over them, she wasn't wearing an undergarment, dangerously so when they had crossed the river…but she probably wanted it that way too. ,,Say it!” he hissed, increasing the pressure on her neck so that he could clearly hear the air sing out as she gave him a pleading look before she nodded, or at least what he thought was a nod.

She stifled a cough before admitting softly, ,,I-I've…never had a man before,” a fact he could have guessed without looking but now it seemed like an invited feast for him, for the power, for his love, for his obsession for the kindness thrown away for his apparent true nature.

His hand moved from her neck to her jaw and he turned her head to his, ,,So will I be as your first worthy of a true warrior” he gave her a hint of his inner freedom a hint of his plan a hint of his things. Satisfied, he saw her nod in fear, agreeing with him, her mind seemingly overwhelmed by the situation, ,,I'm here, just let it go my love,” he told her before his hand moved up from her thigh, pulling down the fabric of the loincloth, but he saw her seemingly trying to escape again.

He felt that light again, the warmth of that something, saw that light again on her hands, ,,An attempt at your charms my lady,” he stated firmly and simply reached up to kiss her fingers, feeling her shudder and recoil as the light of her home disappeared in such a revealing act.

His lips kissed her knuckles and he licked greedily over the palm of her hand, tasting that warm power she would love, he knew. ,,But you are enough for me,” he murmured to her before he opened the waistband of his trousers and her plea was muffled with a palm. he knew that if Legolas had heard her, he would have been here minutes ago.

He would not even have been able to touch the elf before legolas would have shot him. ,,The prince and the others might even like what they hear and therefore don't come to help,” he joked, smiling at his own words before he pushed her dress up and pulled her back towards him by the bone, so pretty in front of him, so disheveled and belonging to him.

He felt her shiver and sniffle as she cried again and his fingers brushed it away to soothe her, ,,You'll see as soon as father sees what I have, he'll agree to this marriage. He will approve of me and you will shed tears of joy dear, believe me,” he told her before he grabbed her leg over his shoulder and entered her with a final brush away of her tears.

Warm and soft was her body and tight he was her first he could almost feel the slightly warm blood flowing between them as he took her maiden head he took her for himself first.

He would have loved to give it to his father, no to the whole kingdom of Gondor what the second son the real son did. ,,I'll take ah-an Elven woman,” he murmured between heavy breaths after so long he finally had the body of a woman again, had an Elf beneath him with twisted eyes and reddish colored ears, a rapidly lowering and raising chest and her delicate hands over her lips.

The thought of having her so naked in front of him only made her even more undressed in front of all of Gondor in front of his father who gave him that grin.

That grin that the steward had when anger and injustice entered his mind, the expression of Boromir full of lust and restraint, ,,You are mine alone, do you understand?” the redhead asked from his lustful imagination, his world around him disappearing in a dream of lust and reverie. He could already hear the chains of her collar rattling and she looked unbelievably beautiful to him and only to him.

But all she did was sniffle, a low moan escaping from between her lips every now and then, and he could see that she was praying herself away. Naivety makes you vulnerable. His hand on her hip, his nails pressing into her skin, he would leave marks on her, he would mark her with his lips, his teeth, his fingers, his sword and his blood.

She would be a sign of his achievement for the first time while his father gave him the throne. But this pain seemed to be enough for the poor girl, she nodded her panting, crying, almost that of a cow, but that would be his pretty elven cow, his wife and one day the mother of his children.

Children prettier than anything in Gondor, children a sign of his love for her with the sweet light hair and bright eyes and the human stature. Everything he would do to her he would do to Gondor, everything he would do for her approval, possession and for his father.

Thoughts that drove him to take her faster and deeper, her other leg also over his shoulder, her protests drowned in his moans and her stifled cries that were barely suppressed by a kiss from him.

He took her deeper faster driven to his climax by her every sound, noise and look, his thoughts the mix of gentleness to her completely melting and sinking into those words of the power of the ring, his father and his brother.

Her hands sometimes clung to him out of fear, trying to push him away completely worthless, he saw the nipples of her soft breasts that fit so perfectly in his hands when he kneaded them against the fabric and he didn't have to look between them to see her overtaxed cunt taking him a mix of the first drops of his lust, her blood and juices.

,,Ah if-if Galadriel saw you like this…my ruined Elve whore,” he chuckled darkly between lustful noises as he sucked on her neck again, hearing her rapid heartbeat, shaking her head and a reply that only ended in another moan.

It went on like this for a few more moments as he took her as he pleased and her protests remained minimal. He knew he was getting close to his climax knew he was cumming inside her knew how scared she would be, ,,I'll stay ah-fuck you” he told her as his fingers gripped her body even tighter, his lips seeking hers and taking her pleas with him as he buried himself inside her.

He felt her tighten around him, a jolt seeming to go through her body as he stayed inside her for a few more moments while he continued to kiss her, his hands caressing her. A monster would have killed her, but a noble prince took care of his pretty whore.

Before he slowly pulled out of her, her whimper was only a small sound as he readjusted himself and stood over her. His hand caught lightly in her hair and played with it for a moment as she pulled the dress back over her uterine crown as quickly as she could.

Her eyes looked up at him and he looked down at her, ,,A stranger is not believed in a land ruled by men dear…you only have me” he said to her not seeing the shadow of his father behind him that Faramir was the true son after all as his father was a wolf in sheep's clothing.

She wanted to turn away from him to be alone but he grabbed her chin and bent down to her, ,,Did you understand that? Do you understand that you belong to me?” he asked before his lips twisted into a greedy grin and he gave her one last kiss on the head.

She had nodded her head in agreement as her abandoned, tearful, bright eyes met his dark ones. He pulled away but they both knew he was right she had no one her mistress would go to the eternal lands and she had no one she had only him she had the prince…she had Faramir and was not only at his mercy but also at the mercy of dark forces.

As the red-haired man laid down his fangs like the wolf, the blood had been gleefully deposited into his flesh and he had put his hooded cloak back on as the cheerful expression put into his gaze when he saw his “friends” again and the grip on his weapon strengthened it.

The wolf in sheep's clothing waited before he struck again and ended up with the path of necessary sacrifices and corpses behind him and his queen at his side ruling over Gondor.

#lord of the rings #lotr #lotr faramir #lord of the rings faramir #faramir of gondor #faramir son of denethor #faramir x reader #lotr faramir x reader #dead dove do not eat #male x female

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fayythe · 1 year

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Divine Love: Chapter Two

Henry Cavill X OFC

Summary: Rhylan Daines property of the United States Government, the training she took on, the beating, and pain was all manipulating her to loose her body autonomy, they tell her to eat a certain way, talk, walk, act. Nothing is hers, how can she escape the torture her life has become? Now an semi-active black ops Navy Seal working for the CIA struggled to make peace with her past. She was always told that every life she took, every person she tortured, and every soul she crushed was for the greater good, but how is more violence supposed to help the world? How can acting help her stop being forced to kill? How can finding love help her find herself? Only time will tell...

Trigger warnings: Slight Alcoholism, Assault, Kidnapping, Blood, Skin Branding, Heavy Depression, Drugs, Undiagnosed eating disorder, Forced Eugenics, Talk of Genocide, talk of war, talk of gore, Hospitalizations for medical reasons, Mental Health issues, Hitman/murder unrecognized by law, Profanity, Military Brutality, torture, terrorism, violence, scars, seizures.

Rhylan's Tattoos

Rhylan's Body Scars Diagram

There is no life to be found in violence. Every act of violence brings us closer to death. Whether it's the mundane violence we do to our bodies by overeating toxic food or drink or the extreme violence of child abuse, domestic warfare, life-threatening poverty, addiction, or state terrorism. – Bell Hooks.

Chapter 2: Насилие

Насилие...Russian...violence

Few Days Later

"So, Rhylan, how did you get that scar on your chest? It's quite large" James asked.

I was sitting on 'The Late Late Night Show', in the somewhat comfortable interview chair on a stage captured by a large audience all around the stage. I was wearing my strawberry blonde hair its natural straight down to my waste, some slightly overpriced black skinny jeans, a vintage band t-shirt and my black combat boots the ones gifted by my general's wife.

Nelia talked me into this appearance, I truly didn't want to be around people let alone on stage in front of people I didn't know. "It will be good press!" She said, trying to talk me into it, the whole 'good press' idea is always her excuse to force me into new environments I wasn't familiar with.

When I walked on the unfamiliar stage, I found myself exanimating everything I could. Every exit, every person, each security guard all lacking a weapon to defend. My military instincts were on overdrive, the lights, the cameras, the crowd laughing, everything gave me the worst bombing headache.

But the questions, the questions about the military I wasn't mentally prepared to answer. But I had to, people were going to spend their time trying to figure out the answer to my questions their own way.

I looked at James again, my brain on overdrive.

"I got shot in the field, I was alone, I had to perform surgery on myself to get the bullet out." I nearly choked out my explanation, remembering the pain, remembering the metallic smell of my blood, the fight I had to keep staying alive.

"Wow... that's some story, can you share anymore?"

I looked off in dazed, trying my best not to quiver at the thought of that mission.

"It's probably best not to." I spoke.

James nodded, looking back at his notes.

"Let's talk about something a bit more fun, people don't really know much about you!" He clapped showing his excitement.

I chucked, "My favorite color is black, if you didn't already know"

"Ha! I can see that, when you first walked on stage, I thought you just walked out of a hot topic." James joked and the crowd laughed.

"What's hot topic?" I questioned.

I'm not joking, what it is it? Did he mean hot pocket? That's a food...man I'm hungry, I'd eat a hot pocket right now even though I absolutely hate them. Nasty things.

The crowd laughed again and so did James.

"Okay, where are you from?"

"Houston" I pushed back a piece of my hair that fell out from behind my ear.

"Oh wow! You don't sound like you're from Texas. Do you still live there?" James asked, I nodded, I'll probably live alone in my house with my dog for a longtime...or forever.

"What is someone from Texas supposed to sound like?"

"I don't know maybe a bit of country tinge"

I laugh, "People from Texas especially the main cities don't generally sound like billies', is that assumed by everyone from another state that isn't the south, or just British?" I asked which made the crowd laugh, James just shrugged with a joking smile on his face.

Alright, I can play that game too.

I looked at the crowd, putting my best hick country accent I can manage which wasn't as bad as I had hoped.

"Alrigh' y'all dis' is wha' Mr.Corden thinks I should soun' like"

Everyone breaks down laughing all over again.

The rest of the interview wasn't as bad as I thought it was going to be, but I couldn't help myself from barely staying still towards the end of the interview. My flight home was so close, I could almost feel the horrible Texas humidity, and as much as I hated it, I missed it.

I was finally able to leave, my hatred for California was still at large from my previous experiences.

People didn't want to admit it, but California was corrupt, industries, politicians, even Hollywood, everything was twisted and coverups and bribes were at large in everything.

As much as I hate spending money, I chose to fly private, luckily though since I'm still considered an asset of the country the plain was US Government issued, untraceable, and completely off any commercial flight lists. Just what my mind needed, for the last few weeks my mind was a high alert. I found myself constantly looking for exists, vulnerabilities, weaknesses, and exploitations.

Nelia was the one to drop me off at the off-grid plane port in the middle of nowhere. Before she left, a guy in a slick black suit wraparound sunglass, secret service, told her to "forget the place existed or she will no longer exist."

I kind of laughed, threaten Nelia? Yeah, this guy has got to be dumber than a box of rocks to threaten her.

And I was right, before my next thought a hand reached outside from the driver's side window to grab the shirt collar of the man leaning down.

I didn't hear exactly what was said, but as soon as the man stood straight and Nelia drove off the man was glued to the same position, I could practically see his eyes burning through his glasses.

It took a few seconds for him to shake out of it, but then he was able to walk towards me and take the bags I was carrying.

"I think I'm in love with her." He spoke walking up the steps of the plane.

"Well that was one heck of a start to a relationship."

We got into the plane, I took my shoes off and sat one on the fancy leather chairs buckling up for takeoff, the man sat in front of me.

"I was under command to let her know. Doesn't mean I wanted to say it."

The man spoke funny, like weird...thinking about it and connecting the dots in my mind

Michigan, he was from Michigan.

I looked at him, he sucked at not showing emotions, which meant he was complete shit at his job. No wonder he isn't CIA, or maybe even FBI, it be somewhat a better option than secret service, lame.

But hey, at lease he's not homeland security. Don't get me started on those fuckers.

Sidenote, he was under command?

"Command of what? Who?" I asked pressuring the man I didn't know.

He just took of his sunglasses and rubbed his eyes with his thumb and pointer fingers, then folded his sunglasses neatly and putting them in his suit pocket.

"He told me you'd ask—" The man started,

"What 'He' as a male, son of a bitch" I slapped my thighs, that fucker.

"Then he said you'd be pissed off, and determine the details quickly"

"Yeah, Yeah, I get it. It was Dean. I know. Fucker. Next time you see him, I need you to do two things, first; lick your finger, get it nice and wet then stick it in his ear—or his ass, then I want you to kick him in the balls once he's off guard."

Who is Dean? Oh right that.

When I was first inducted into the Navy, my scores were off the charts. So much so they made me take ASVAB (Armed Services Vocational Aptitude Battery Test) three times before they would believe that I wasn't cheating.

I don't understand how I scored so high, but the test score was near perfect, and I was able pretend I didn't have a learning disability growing up. Luckily, they never found that out.

I probably wouldn't be where I am today. To be honest, I wonder what life would've been like.

I was seventeen when I first joined, my mom and stepdad weren't happy about the idea and refused to let me join at first. They felt like my choices on career path changed to much and signing a contract for a job I couldn't get out of when I got bored wasn't a smart choice.

Plus, I was a girl. In my stepdads eyes, girls couldn't be successful soldiers, they weren't meant for it, strong enough for it.

Let's just say, I proved him wrong.

But it wasn't his choice, and I honestly didn't care what either of them thought and ended up forging my mother's signature on the application documents as hers was the only one that mattered. I found out later that they called her to confirm they have her permission, and she didn't deny it and gave the permission to continue with medical and psych evaluations, dates for bootcamp, and training.

I had already graduated high school around that time early and spent my time before bootcamp training my ass off.

Dean was the only person there to tap me out.

I didn't know who he was and what he wanted, I was just a new sailor and I wanted to get in a ship and sail away from my problems.

It was then I was taken to a...illegal off grid operation ran by the CIA; you know right after they blind folded me and drugged me.

I could still remember feeling of the chains...

July 2004

Bright lights.

So bright...

I tried to lift my hands up to rub my eyes, but I couldn't.

Instead, the sound of clinking metal filled my ears... chains.

I tried to move my legs, again the sound of metal, heavy metal.

My eyes shot open; my corneas blinded I was still sluggish...I felt...high?

I pulled on the chains, I had to get out.

This man, he could be a serial killer or some shit.

The amount of emotion I was feeling, rage, anger, fear, it was all overwhelming.

I pulled on the chains until my wrists were bleeding and my left ankle was dislocated.

Fuck being double jointed.

Just then a tall man, maybe a little over six foot walked through the electronic sliding doors in a crisp expensive looking suit, something I could never afford. Interesting a classy serial killer, was he going to eat my body too?

At least he was going to a silver fork and knife, I thought, still pulling on the chains.

"Rhylan Daines" He spoke drawing my given name out unnecessarily, he threw a manila folder on the table and pulled out the chair sitting right in the front of me.

The way he sat, the way he looked, something was off. This man wasn't a serial killer, well he could be, but not the normal ones you see on shows and movies. This guy was professional, I sat observing him, his watch was expensive it was a gold Rolex with diamonds around the face, well over twenty thousand dollars.

His haircut made his head look like a pineapple, it was stupid as shit, he was a marine... or maybe at one point he was. But why keep the haircut?

Semper Fi bitch.

I found myself bucking the chains straining and centimeters from his face that I could smell his coffee-stained breath, gross.

I couldn't help myself, the rage and anger, the pain I felt in my wrists and now my ankle from it snapping back in place as I stood. I want to hurt him. Kidnapping, drugs, physical restraint this guy must've been stupid.

"Where the fuck am I?" I spat in his face.

He didn't even flinch, which made me angrier.

"I'll tell you, but you have to calm down first, and sit down." He was calm, like he knew I couldn't and wouldn't hurt him.

"Calm down! —You drugged and kidnapped me, you son of a bitch! And you want me to be calm." I smiled, the crazy drugged sleepy smile. "Your funny" my voice was low.

"I will kill you."

I wanted to wrap the chain around his neck and watch the life fade from his eyes. I've never felt that before, the feeling of being in fight or flight and now that I was experiencing it was overwhelming.

He just smiled back, leaning closer to my face.

"I'll give you a chance to channel that anger, rage. You just have to listen."

I spat in his face leaning back in the chair, the pain in my ankle still at large.

"I'll give you that one, but if you do it again—" he pulled out a napkin from his suit pocket wiping his face.

"Talk"

"Well let me introduce myself first I'm-"

"I don't give two shits who you are, I want to know where I am and what the hell you want."

He just smiled, "I'm Dean Sawyer, General Dean Sawyer."

I rolled my eyes biting through my lip letting the metallic taste flood my mouth.

"Okay Dick, what do you want."

He looked off in the distance towards the mirrored window I now knew someone was on the other side of, then he opened the thick folder sitting in front of him pulling out...pictures...

"We've been watching you, perfect military standard testing scores, top two percent in athletic evaluation, section leader in basic training, high language skills, adaptability, and so much more."

I just starred blankly, while my emotions were on the highest drive I've ever felt in a longtime, with parents that thought you not to show any emotions you become good at hiding everything and learn to feel in secret if not at all.

I looked back at Dick and shrugged my shoulders. So? What's so special about me? I'm a nobody, or at lease I try to be.

Dick placed the pictures in front of me, there was pictures of me everywhere, training for bootcamp, walking home, driving, jogging, all the way up to today when I took my speech pledging my life to my country.

My jaw clinched so hard I'm surprised I didn't break a tooth.

"You were stalking me?"

"Well, I like the word observing. But stalking seems like an appropriate word to use, but don't worry it wasn't me."

Mr. Dick here sucks at reassuring people.

I crossed my arms. I'm getting tired of this bullshit, he's stalling.

"I work for the CIA, the counterint-"

"I know what the CIA is."

What does the CIA want with me? I'm a seventeen-year-old from Texas, newly indoctrinated Navy Sailor running away from life. Maybe he's bluffing, I observed his face and mental checklist of signs of someone lying.

Sweating ×

Wondering eyes ×

Stuttering ×

Fidgeting ×

Vagueness √

Over sharing ×

Crossing off all the signs of lying in my mind except one vagueness, while it could say something it could be explained if he was actually CIA.

"Well. We have a job for you, a special job. To put your talents at good use." He continued.

Talents?

"I need more details than that." I said, shaking my head.

"Right." He started, pulling more pictures from the folder... oh great does he have pictures of me showering or taking a shit. Man, this guy is a creep.

"Now the images I'm about to show you are highly classified. If you don't accept the offer, you are to never speak of what you saw or what happened her. Ever."

I shrugged, it's not like I have anyone to tell I don't have any friends.

I'm not even joking.

I nodded finally leaning closer to the table as he flipped over the pictures. The first picture that caught my eye was of a child no more than ten... she seemed to be middle eastern her hair was long and beautiful, but she was frail, and her body was bruised. She was crucified.

My eyes stung, my cousin Allie coming to my mind, how could someone do this?

The next picture was of some type of wear house, children chained to beds...mostly females. It was a child brothel...

Disgusting.

I scanned over the other pictures. Dirty politicians, news articles, bank statements, trafficking rings. The states weren't the only dirty places in the world.

Everywhere was guilty of something.

I pushed them off the table, I didn't even say anything. I was too angry. While Dick did kidnap me...and drug me I was too in my mind to say anything. The pain those children suffered, the people, women, civilians.

"It's time the government acts, but it has to be done privately. I believe you'd be the perfect first candidate."

Privately? Action? First Candidate...I took in a breath.

"I'm the head of a private project only a handful people know about. The goal is to train you to be the best there is, while your previous life will be wiped from everything, you have a chance to change the world." He continued.

Change the world, every word repeating in my head. I was drowning.

Am I really thinking about doing this? This is crazy.

"What would this entail?" I asked.

I'm hesitant to hear, killing people could I even do this? Am I strong enough to push myself like this?

The man intertwined his fingers, "missions, all over the world."

"What type of missions."

"Assassinations, framing, undercover work. A little of everything."

"Isn't that illegal?"

Dick took in a large breath. "Everything we'd be doing would be illegal, which is why this is an off the books CIA operation. Project Death Star."

I paused my entire body freezing, they wanted me to be the first soldier in an illegal CIA operation, me a seventeen-year-old.

I started to sweat slightly, remembering how growing up I was told I would never get anywhere, especially in the Navy.

"I joined the Navy to be in the Navy, to be a soldier—" I started, trying to convince myself to not want to take the offer.

"And you will be, just think of it as team six...just on crack," Dick shrugged his shoulders.

Team six was the elitist navy seal group in the navy known by the public, while I always thought they were interesting it was never my mission to become a seal. Realistically, when I first joined my plan was to be a submarine technician though I didn't find out women weren't allowed on submarines until I was already at bootcamp.

To say I was angry was an understatement.

When my drill sergeant asked me what I wanted to do in the Navy because no ship was going to want a little girl on it, I told him it was submarines.

He laughed, actually laughed.

But you see, I've always had a bit of an anger issue problem. I was a shitty child and even a shitter teenager, constantly in fights and arguments with everyone, teachers, other students, and my parents.

I didn't start picking up the pieces of my life until a Navy recruiter showed up at my school to present and encourage everyone to at least talk to a recruiter to see if they were qualified. It was then I felt I found a reason to push myself to be better and even a reason to live, and an opportunity to leave my shitty home life.

So, when the drill sergeant laughed at the fact I wanted to work on submarines, it broke all control I built over the last few years of training myself to be the best I can.

Before he knew it, he was swept off the ground and I had his head between my legs screaming for him to tap out, four other male recruits had to tear me off of him. His nose was bloody, and he was laughing, the fact that he found it funny only made me angrier.

"You're gonna get somewhere with that Daines." He spoke.

After my 10-mile punishment, He pushed me, he became my mentor and taught me leadership, teamwork, everything he knew. I looked up to him, he became the true father I never had.

Drill Sergeant Cade Mitchel.

Wait—"You're gonna get somewhere with that Daines."

Going to get somewhere with that?

I smiled. "Cade. He was a plant, you sent someone to observe me." Proud of myself, I uncrossed my arms and sat back in the uncomfortable metal chair.

Damn my ass was numb.

"Wow, I'm impressed. Cade was a plant, but just because he was doesn't make him any less deserving of your trust. He was very impressed for your skills, not to mention being able to catch him off guard." Dick pulled out a document from the folder, a stapled packet of paper with chicken scratch covered in it and placed it in front of me.

The top had my name—

Rhylan Daines.

General information, my birthday, testing scores, highschool GPA, my attributes, and personal notes. There were words that stood out to me the most it made my eyes burn, I've never been called or referenced as any of these things in my life.

Determination, courage, great leadership, untrusting—

The list continued, there was a few that were questionable to be considered 'assets' but otherwise the notes of what I confided with him showed every thought if what went through his head when I told him things that I wanted to keep private.

Things that made me the way I am...

A part of me was angry about it, he was faking everything. Someone I trusted as a mentor, as an adoptive father, who put my pins on me in my inauguration just a few hours ago, wasn't there for me on his own will, but as a will for another.

It was all fake.

But when I really thought about it, I was comforted by the fact he didn't see the negative things I saw about myself. While he found my trust issues a great asset, I found them annoying and it was a daily struggle to speak to people, strangers, anyone that didn't give me a reason to offer them my trust. While he found my stubbornness and loyalty strikingly intriguing, I never knew I was considered stubborn. I never had anyone tell me.

Loyalty on the other hand was something I always wanted in a friend, therefore it only made since I was able to reciprocate.

I was interesting seeing another person's point a view of me, as I always figured I wasn't enough of what they call 'friend material' and it was hard enough to figure out why people didn't see me worthy enough of their friendship.

But don't even talk about romantic relationships with me. They're a joke.

"He thought very highly of you, he's gone for now, but you'll see him a few days."

"Can I—" I started, picking up the packet.

"You can have it; we have another copy."

I nodded glad I didn't have to ask to keep it or give him a reason to.

Looking back at him, I started to finally calm even though I was still chained to the desk I finally felt I was where I was supposed to be in life.

"What type of training?" I asked, folding the packet into a neat square, and slipping it in my back pocket.

"We'd be sending you to complete BUD's, which is normal for navy seals, the only difference is you won't be able to leave until you complete, and there will be an extra few lessons."

Okay. This is a...start. I wouldn't say a good one, but it's a start.

Dick continued, "It will also be an accelerated course. Normally BUD's is about a year long, for you it'd be six or so months. Depending on where you are in the course and how you're progressing."

"I have a buddy that's going to be training you privately, you'll be the only one there."

Wait, normally seals are teams, but then again this isn't a normal situation. None of it is.

"I'm the only one?"

He nodded, reaching in his pocket pulling out a key standing from his chair and walked over to me. At first, he offered me the key, but I just gave him my hands to uncuff, "You'll be the first for now, once you're ready we plan to let you choose the next recruits, though the full team will only be four more."

He offered me the key again to uncuff my ankles from the chair.

"Do you accept this offer?" He questioned, his eyes following me ask I stood.

I was about 5'9 which was short compared to his 6'3 frame, but I guess guys that are abnormally tall stand out in the crowd. Which made him, unable to blend in—or he's just too old, the man looks like he'd been sitting in a bath for two years straight all wrinkly like that, stress truly does age people.

I shrugged, "Do I really have much of a choice now. You practically told me everything." I looked over at the mirrored window, giving those behind the glass a playful salute.

"But I'm seventeen remember, not an adult yet." I walked up to the mirror, I looked like shit, and I was starving.

"Not legal remember." He joked.

That was a lame joke. This guy needs lessons.

Not that I could do any better.

"When do I leave?" Change the world remember, rather start now then later.

"In a week."

Well, this is going to be the longest next six months of my life.

December 2015 (Present Day)

"Hey, Rhylan time to get up." I felt someone nudge my shoulder and immediately all my instances were at full drive, and I found myself swiftly grabbing the unknown object; a hand, from touching me, soon I was standing with the man in the suit in my grasp his arm wrapped under and around his back and my knee in between his spine.

I blinked and let go suddenly. What is going on with the me... I shook my head again.

"Don't fucking do that." I yelled. This is why I don't like people touching me, ever, I don't care if the plane is on fire, or you were stroking out there was very few people in the world who could touch me and one of them wasn't this random man and his duped gold crested suit.

"Look I'm sorry, you fell asleep, and you looked like you needed it. Damn man that hurt." He rubbed his shoulder circling his arm socket. "Next time you do that again. I can't promise you'd still have your life." I spoke looking for my carry on.

The plain had landed in Houston in some small private plane hangar, it was December, yet it was still hot outside, and humid as always from what I could tell from the wet concrete outside. Growing up here, I hated it, I hated the heat the bipolar weather, the people, the crime, anything, and everything.

While I still do, this is where my family is. I don't have anywhere else to go, or anyone else to go to. For where my mind and mental state is now, I don't think I'd be able to take care of myself without my family a few minutes away from me.

I couldn't find my bag anywhere.

"I already but your stuff in the car. Let's go I'm supposed to take you home."

I shook my head, "No, I can find a ride, uber something." I said, I don't want to be trapped in a car with this man I didn't know for forty-five minutes on the way to my house—the only true place I feel safe.

"Yeah right, this a private plane hanger from the United States Government, yeah right. Uber." He laughed, as much as I wanted to insist, but he was right. It was dangerous for anyone to know about this place, though looking around the place looked familiar, but I couldn't place my finger on it.

Oh well. I just wanted to get home.

The car drive was long, to this day the highways of Houston still give me the worst new driver anxiety even though I had been driving for a good fourteen years give or take with the change in career the prospect of people driving me around everywhere still made me nervous. I had been gone so long filming mad max in South Africa and Australia the difference between their and my hometown often made me miss the pure humid heat Houston had to offer.

My hand tightened around my phone.

I should probably message my mother; I shook my head. Nothing good will come with that.

When the car finally rolled up to a stop in front of my house the filling of peace, I've been thriving for ages flooded through me.

Just before I open the door, the man in the stupid suit spoke, "Hey, wait"

"What?" The word sound harsher than I intended.

"Dean says you owe him one. He'll be contacting you soon."

Fuck.

I opened the door anyway, "Tell Dick to shove it."

When I took my leave, that's what it was a leave. While technically I am still active duty but because the operation wasn't on the books legally, I was able to bend the rules, take large gaps in absences from duty, do things my way.

I had to figure out a way to get away, and it was ironic I was able to get an acting call for that. They can't put me undercover if the entire world has seen my face. Can they?

I pressed my finger on my scanner disarming the security alarm for a moment to open the door. The sound of nails on the hard wood floor and huge blob of fur running to me. "Hey Lucky lue, hey buddy." I dropped my bags and got on my knees while I was smothered in dirty breath kisses.

Luther. I was stranded in the forest of Bulgaria for a little over a month, I couldn't leave the forest because people were going after me. But somehow, a tiny little black and white fur ball puppy came after me, chose me. I still don't understand how he was able to find me, but his loyalty and the fact he made me not alone.

After I was rescued, I insisted to bring the puppy with me back home to the states, which Dean wasn't very happy about. My entire training meant for me not to care or love anything, I think that's the moment he realized I was straying away from him, and the hell he put me through.

I put Luther through all sorts of military dog training, he was some type of German shepherd and Keeshond mix which made sense from the terrorist organization I was following from Germany to Bulgaria. Luther was loyal to me but found it hard to be loyal to anyone else, he loved running and working. Even if it was hunting bad guys.

After many months of training, Luther was certified in tracking, explosive detection, patrol, search and rescue, and attack. Some used more often than others, I still made sure he remembered what to do, so we did simulation rescue missions often he made sure to find his favorite duck toy every time.

I ran my hands though his soft fur whispering I love yous and I missed you. My home manager Sydney must've taken him to the groomers before I came home which made sense for his big blow out.

I walked up to the counter seeing a paper with a note on it, from Sydney.

"Dean messaged me to let me know you are on your way home. I made food for you for the week it's in the fridge, will be back on Sunday to make more food for the week. I slipped your mail under your office door."

-Sydney

I smiled, Sydney knew if she didn't make me food for the week, I'd only eat MRE's and Dairy Queen's chicken tender box. She has always been very good at her job, even consulting with a nutritionist so I could get the right amount of protein and vegetables to keep me going sense I work out so much.

I was lucky to find her, and I still agree I should give her a raise, but she won't let me and says I pay her too much as it is.

She's in her late forties, both of her children are in college, and she's divorced. I constantly tell her she can take some time off and go on a vacation, but she likes her comfort zone and prefers to spend her time reading my books. She's been like that for a while.

I made sure to give Lue a treat seeing he was a good boy while I was gone for so long, I think next time I'm going to take him with me even though I can't tell you how safe a trained military dog would be in a situation he wasn't familiar with.

I unloaded my bags putting the dirty clothes I had in the washer and putting the clean ones back in my closet. Opening my office door, the lights of the room immediately turned on and my triple monitor supercomputer powered set up woke,

"Good morning Mrs. Daines, its nice to see you again." The computer spoke.

I took off my leather jacket putting it on the coat rack next to the door, "Arthur, It's Rhylan, we've been over this."

Maybe coding him to always be polite was a bad idea.

"Yes ma'am. How was you flight home? I could not find you on any commercial airflights."

"Dean sent a private plane for me." I said, I slipped my shoes off lining them next to my other sets of black combat boots, I swear I have a problem with boots. "Ah General Dean Sawyer, would you like me to send him a passive aggressive thank you note, as always?"

I laughed, "No, It's okay. He will be contacting me soon. Though send Nelia a message, tell her I got home safely and thank you, while your are at it send her a delivery of her favorite flowers. I don't remember what they are, do you?" I sat in the chair in front of the computer.

Arthur took a moment to respond, "Nelia Wainright's favorite flower is Gardenia, an order has been placed, an a thank you message has been sent."

"That's good. Okay, give me a run down of all the things important since we last spoke." I said cracking my knuckles.

"It has been five months, twenty-six days, and twelve hours since our last update. Would you like the detailed version?"

I pulled at my desk drawer revealing my handgun case and cleaning kit, oh how I have missed you. The feeling of protection I have coded in my own program is sated when I carry, nowadays guns are too easy to come by not just in the states but in countries civilians believe it is impossible to obtain a weapon.

"Go for it' I said, taking apart the gun and begin cleaning. Gun's can never be too clean, and this one, this one went all around the world with me has taken the life of so many extremists all over the world I would probably cry if the inner barrel were to rust.

Arthur paused

"In the past five months one thousand two hundred eighty-nine dollars and ten cents has been taken out of your personal account to pay for subscriptions. Is this number, correct?"

Holy fuck, I need to stop pressing buttons.

"I'm sure it is Arthur keep going."

"Ms. Sydney has used her card to make purchases, the total was three hundred forty-six dollars and thirty-nine cents. Should I pay it off?"

I was surprised the costs were so little, I always tell her to use to for anything she would like.

"What were the purchase?"

Arthur commanded the computer to bring up the bank statement, he also opened a folder containing all the receipt Sydney scanned in, the rate the intelligence was flipping through the scans made me dizzy.

"It seems many of them are cleaning and pet care products. The most recent purchases conclude of steak, bell peppers, jalapeños, twelve-ounce chicken breast –"

"Yeah, I get it, it's food." I spoke, digging caked gun powder out of the crevasse of the handle, I must've been half asleep when I cleaned this originally.

I continued picking at the gun powder, I couldn't even tell you why it was there this gun didn't use much gunpowder. I looked up at the triple monitor screens, Arthurs program was running facial recognition on my outdoor cameras, every delivery man, every pet, neighbor, everything. I looked back down at the handgun in my hand putting the parts back together, I knew Arthur wouldn't find anything.

You may call me paranoid, and I might be. The problem is I have enemies in the world, enemies that would do anything and everything to hurt me and the people I love, not only do I need a safe space to feel at ease, but I need to know that the people close to me do too.

My house is a fortress and my future home build will be even more high tech.

Arthur is coded to scan constantly throughout the day and night, and alert me for any suspicious activity in my area or around the house in general, therefore I knew the results would turn up negative and there was nothing to worry about.

"There seems to be no suspicious activity as been recorded within the last five months."

I nodded; my ego swelled; I was right. I win at this coding came now don't I?

"Anything else?" I questioned, watching Arthur close his previous computer windows, and bring up the data from the bitcoin rig I set up a while back. Mostly because I was bored, but now it's been a steady source of income.

"Roughly thirteen point five seven bitcoin has been successfully mined since your last withdrawal. The total worth translated is two hundred twenty-five thousand one hundred seventy United State dollar."

I choked. That's a lot of money, I didn't expect it to be that much.

I did the math in my head, "Take eighteen percent and put it into my savings account—" More math, "Take the rest and donate it to my usual charities."

It's money I don't need, there's a point where money doesn't help and only becomes more of a burden with taxes. Not to mention, bad things happen to people with a lot of money all the time.

"Would you like to make the donations anonymous?" Arthur asked.

I thought about it, would I? Is it selfish to want to put my name on it, to get praise from people I didn't know? But my mind kept trying to make it seem like it wasn't a big deal, I wouldn't see the praise, It's not like I had social media of any kind.

"Make it anonymous."

I'm not going to change the way I do things because I made my name public, I don't want to change myself.

"The transaction has been complete. Do you need my assistance any further?"

"No, just monitor me while I'm in Texas. I want to know anything and everything."

The computer dinged signaling the program has accepted my order and the ceiling lights dimmed an array of colorful desk lights turned on displaying a plethora of colors from the rainbow. "What game are you interested in playing?"

I put my gun case and cleaning kit back in the drawer, "Surprise me"

I put my headset as I watch the logo for the game the coded system choose to appear, World of Warcraft.

Oh home have I missed you.

#henry cavill fic #henry cavill smut #dad! henry cavill #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill x you #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill fluff

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smoreal · 1 year

Text

Alright I’m posting the timeline in two parts or three, but here’s the first chunk of the sonic games for @z0nic and anyone else to reference!

NOTE: This is very rough; assume the dates are US unless otherwise stated; actually playing/watching a runthrough of the games are gonna give you better insight, these are just quick summaries

GUIDE:

** = Maybe don’t stress too hard about putting this one in lol, just had to add it jic

“…”/‘…’ = Quotes pulled straight from Speedia or Wiki, I can link Wiki's semi-complete list here > X

+ = Missing some details, synopsis might be rough lmaoo I’ll try to link websites to start your search so you can get a clearer picture of wth is happening here, my bad :(

{…} = Contains most of my asides and/or fun facts, feel free to skip these

SONIC TIMELINE:

Sonic (‘91) – 7 Zones, 6 Special Stages; Sonic chases down Eggman on South Island to free the flickies! Beat the game with all 6 emeralds and you get the good ending, without all 6, you get the bad ending where Eggman taunts you with the emeralds.

Sonic 2 (‘92) – 11 Zones, 7 Special Stages (Introduced Super Sonic and Tails); Sonic rides his biplane ‘The Tornado’ to West Side Island, meets Tails and together they stop Eggman from collecting all 7 emeralds to power his superweapon, the Death Egg! Without all the emeralds, you get the bad ending where Tails’ is implied to have died.

Sonic CD (SEPT. ‘93) – 7 Rounds, 7 Special Stages (Introduced Amy Rose and Metal Sonic); Implied to be before the events of Sonic 2 (due to ‘a hidden image unlocked through the Sound Test, shows Tails saying, “See you next game,” implying Sonic CD occurs BEFORE Sonic 2’); Sonic stops Eggman from collecting all 7 Time Stones from Little Planet (arrives only one month out of the year), meets Amy, saves her from Metal Sonic, and stops Eggman from creating a Bad Future. ‘In the good ending, Little Planet thanks Sonic with a shower of stars and leaves Never Lake; in the bad ending, Little Planet still leaves, but Robotnik uses the Time Stones to bring it back and the player is urged to replay the game to achieve the good ending.’

Sonic Chaos (OCT. ‘93) – 6 Zones, 6 Special Stages, and considered to be a ‘follow-up’ to Sonic 2; Eggman has one chaos emerald and is looking to collect all 6 for ‘nuclear weapons,’ but in his search has caused South Island to sink. Sonic and Tails stop him.

Sonic Spinball (NOV. ’93) – Considered a Spin-off from SatAM, there are 4 Zones, 4 Bonus Stages; Find all 16, BLUE chaos emeralds! Eggman is trying to take over the volcanic ‘Mt. Mobius’ to turn it into a base, ‘The Veg-O-Fortress.’ Tails is also here, but the Tornado is shot down and Sonic is left to climb up the base ‘pinball style.’ GOAT behavior.

Dr. Robotnik’s Mean Bean Machine (DEC. ’93) – “The game is set on the planet Mobius, which is inhabited by bean-like creatures. Dr. Robotnik conceives a plan to bring terror to the world by kidnapping the citizens of Beanville and turning them into robot slaves, and eventually creating an army that will help him rid the planet of fun and joy. To achieve this, he creates the "Mean Bean-Steaming Machine" in order to transform the bean-like creatures into robots. Putting his plan into motion, Robotnik sends out his Henchbots to gather all the bean-like creatures and group them together in dark dungeons so they can be sent to the Mean Bean-Steaming Machine. The rest of the game's story revolves around the player character, "Has Bean", and their journey to stop Robotnik's henchmen by breaking into the dungeons and freeing the bean-like creatures.”

+**Sonic Drift (MAR. ’94) – 3 Grand Prixs, 6 Tracks; This was only released in Japan. Technically first racing game? {We aren’t counting the arcade games that are super rare, but I’ll list them here: Sega Arcade Classics [Japan, DEC ‘91], Segasonic Cosmo Fighter [JP, APR. ‘93], Segasonic Arcade [US, SEPT. ‘93], Segasonic Popcorn Shop [JP, APR. ‘93]} And you can drive as Amy! Win!

+Sonic 3 (FEB. ‘94) – 6 Zones, 7 Special Stages, and Right after Sonic 2; Death Egg crashes into the mountains of Angel Island. Eggman meets Knuckles, last echidna of Angel Island and Master Emerald guardian, (Master Emerald keeps the island afloat and is as strong as the 7 chaos emeralds), and convinces him that Sonic is going to steal the Master Emerald. Sonic and Tails show up, Sonic is Super (presumably from the events of Sonic 2), Knuckles punches the emeralds out of him, takes them, and gets out of dodge. They make it to the launch base, ‘where the death egg is under repair,’ fight Knuckles, but then the Death Egg relaunches and they defeat Eggman for it to crash. Again. Launch Base is the final zone from this game. {Probably best if you had your own look at this since it’s important, here you go ;-; (x)}

+& Knuckles (OCT. ‘94) - 8 Zones, 7 Special Stages (but this time you seek out the Super Emeralds to get Hyper Sonic, Hyper Knuckles, and Super Tails); First Zone, after Launch Base zone from Sonic 3, is Flying Battery Zone. Sonic attempts to stop Eggman from relaunching his Death Egg while Knuckles fights off the EggRobo. Ngl it’s hard to quickly give a rundown on it since there’s a good amount of IMPORTANT lore that’ll be a mouse-ka-tool that will help us later :) so I’ll leave this (x)

+** Tails and the Music Maker (OCT. ’94) – Music teaching game. It’s cute, and idk how you’d fit it into the lore but it’d be pretty fkn sick if you did. (15min vid)

Sonic Triple Trouble (NOV. ’94) – 6 Zones, 7 Stages; Sequel to Sonic Chaos, Introduced Nack the Weasel (Fang the Sniper) and has Sonic and Tails stop Eggman’s plans by getting all 6 chaos emeralds (after he loses them from a ‘test misfire’ that send them across the ‘island’ idk which island it doesn’t specify) Knuckles helps Eggman, again. I’m pretty sure Fang is just in it for himself lol, either way he isn’t on Sonic’s side. {Also did you know Fang’s bike is called the Marvelous Queen?? Very cash money of him}

Tails’ Skypatrol (JP, APR. ’95) – 5 Areas(?); Tails comes to a ruined, remote island. Witchcart “uses the island’s railways to travel to all points and trap its inhabitants with enchanted crystal magic.” Tails saves the island from Witchcart and her minions.

+Knuckles Chaotix (APR. ’95) – 6 Attractions, 6 Special Stages, and you’re collecting 6 Chaos Rings this time :), and also Mighty makes an ‘official debut,’ {despite being introduced prior to this game alongside Ray in the arcade game Segasonic the hedgehog [JP, ‘93].} “A mysterious island” comes out of nowhere ig bc of the events of S3&K. Eggman finds out about these Chaos Rings by going through a Giant Ring/Ring Portal that leads you to the special stages in previous sonic games. The six Chaos Rings are described as “crystallized power of the Master Emerald.” Eggman makes his own Dark Rings to power his robots, and takes over this new island. Knuckles shows up to figure out what the connection is between this island and Angel Island, saves Espio from Eggman and Metal Sonic, and then together they work to rescue the others to take down Eggman… {you should read this jic I missed smth}

Tails Adventure (NOV. ’95) – Good luck understanding this one, I’m getting contradicting notes (from the Speedia) saying that “the English language manuals {state that} the story is set after Sonic 2,” and that our boy is on “vacation.” But I’m also reading on the wiki that this shit happened BEFORE he even met Sonic sooo…. Let’s just stick with Chronology ig?? Here’s the link chief.

+Sonic Labyrinth (NOV. ’95) – 4 Zones, 4(?) Bonus Rounds; Eggman tricks Sonic into wearing special shoes that make him go slow as all hell, and they’re called “Speed Down Boots.” Find three keys in each stages to escape the zones within the labyrinth and stop Eggman. (x)

+**Sonic Drift 2 (NOV. ’95) – 3(?) Grand Prixs, and a Final Road; Sonic Drift 1, but ‘bigger’ and ‘better.’ Playable Amy, Knuckles, Fang, and Metal Sonic, let’s fkn gooo.

Sonic The Fighters (JULY ’96) – 10 Arenas; Introduced Honey the Cat, Bean and Bark! Sonic and friends all have a chaos emerald (8 this time lol) and they have a tournament to figure out who will use all 8 emeralds ‘to power a spaceship’ and stop Dr. Robotnik and Metal Sonic ‘from building an evil fortress in space.’

+**Sonic Schoolhouse (OCT. ’96) – FIRST FEMALE VA FOR SONIC LETS FKNGOO. Anyways, Sonic teaches you math, reading, and spelling through fun minigames :) (schoolhouse playthrough)

Sonic Blast (NOV. ‘96) – 5 Zones, 5(?) Bonus Stages; Eggman shatters a chaos emerald into 5 shards ‘with a laser,’ Sonic and Knuckles team up to keep him from collecting the shards and ‘fortifying his island base.’

Sonic 3D Blast (NOV. ’96) – 8(?) Zones, 7 Special Stages; Before you ask, no, unfortunately for me, they are not the same thing. In this one, Sonic has to save these flickies that live on Flickie Island, but they aren’t just any flickies, they’re special bc of their ability to move freely between dimensions “via the Dimensional Rings.” Eggman is the one endangering these flickies bc he’s using them to ‘further his research.’ Pretty much to find chaos emeralds. (x)

*(please add her in I beg of you idk how you’d do this but you’d be a legend I’m trying to figure this out too)* Learning With Sonic (NOV. ’96) – “Dr. Eggman has built Gameworld, a carnival-like tower.” Amy, Sonic, and Tails have to overcome the games to get the chaos emeralds.

Sonic R (NOV. ’97) – 5 Tracks; Sonic and Tails join in on this World Grand Prix when they find out Eggman is participating. Knuckles and Amy join in. Eggman was using the race as a way to distract Sonic while he ‘hunts for the chaos emeralds.’ {Fun fact: If you owned the game and popped it into a cd player, it would play just the music :) pretty neat! One of the best soundtracks of all time and you’re able to listen to it or play the actual game… society has fallen.}

+(?)**Sonic Pocket Adventure (’99) – Pretty much ‘dumbed down vers. of Sonic 2’

Sonic Adventure (SEPT. ’99) – You got this.

#holy shit this took me a while #shitposts #smoreal sonic scrolls #sonic timeline #mmm ill refrain from putting this in my lore tag bc this def needs more editting #um ill hopefully have te rest out soon. this is everything pre 2000s #next post will be post 2000s #and if i do a third one that one will be 2010s ig

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light-lanterne · 2 years

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hi ✨💖 i love your writing ❤️ can you briefly explain the titles of your stories? they are very interesting! 🥰💕

hello ! thank you so much~! glad you like my stuff :] i'll try to keep it brief~

🌷 the darkest eyes: this is just a random name, tbh. there's no grand message or complex metaphor; it's just a reference to mike's eye colour as perceived by hopper.

🕰️ the trees are growing restless: so, these are actually the lyrics of the 1994 song 'summer dying fast' by cradle of filth, one of my absolute favourite extreme metal bands. to be completely honest, i was just listening to the song as i worked on the first chapter so the lyrics don't fully fit the story. that said, i think they do fit the last scene of the show rather well~

i watch the storm approaching, the darkness calls my name. the trees are growing restless, they feel the season change. their fruit has putrified, forbidden once and bound to die. the thread of life lies severed on the brink of paradise. grinning winds of hate unfurled. dash towers tall that grip the sun. talons stretch her veil. reclamation, our time has come…

🐈‍⬛ maybe i was destined to—: more lyrics! these are for the song 'strangers' by bring me the horizon. these fit the mood a bit more~ if you search for it, please mind the video. it's very creepy :S

break me down, break me down, make me get better. i confess that i'm a mess, some kind of error. well, maybe i was destined to disappear. we're just a room full of strangers looking for something to save us; alone together, we're dying to live and we're living to die. it never stops, can't erase this, so cross out my eyes, tear the pages. 'cause you and i, we're just dying to live and we're living to die. where did we go? we're all alone, all alone. no place like home; take us back to yesterday. sos, save us from ourselves.

🎻 4'33'': this is another musical one, albeit weirder. it's a reference to an experimental composition of the same name, conceived in 1947 by john cage. i think it's best if you look for it if you want to understand what type of song it is; the meaning and correlation to the story should be relatively clear once you listen to it~!

🕊️ sin deep, my darling angel: another reference to cradle of filth! this is a slight variation from 'sin deep my wicked angel', a rather beautiful and haunting instrumental piece from 2001~ i changed it so it fit the theme better :]

🦇 when our hearts lie six feet under: uh,,, another cradle of filth one x.x listen, their lyrics are beautiful, okei? this is from 2021, from their song 'necromantic fantasies'

when the moon is full and the wolves howl in the forest, would you take my hand and lead us both on our final voyage? would we share our dreams, those necromantic fantasies? really, could we ever be apart when our hearts lie six feet under?

fun fact, the title of the song has a double meaning: the obvious interpretation about dark arts, and a play on words! necro (death) + romantic = a romance that can only happen in death~ i thought it fit the vampire theme rather well

💐 how many tears to nurture a rose: ,,,yeah, uh,,, hi. my name is angel and i get hyperfixated on things x.x anyway, more cradle of filth !! the song (also from 2021) has the same title, but this one doesn't really fit the story all that well :( alas, it was a great title for the concept so here we are !

i did try to use some lyric from another song, 'discourse between a man and his soul', but it's far too dramatic of a title for this story x.x these lyrics are very pretty and fitting, thought~

oh my beautiful friend, i will love thee until the end is nigh. and in time, i'll find thee in my arms on the vast other side.

🔪 ...but here is one: okay, we have escaped the hyperfixation~ we're still on the songs, though. this is from the 1995, stunning song 'all flowers in time bend towards the sun', by jeff buckley and elizabeth fraser. it's an unreleased little song, very intimate and tender, and it's referenced in one of my main inspirations for this story, 'the cat lady'.

all flowers in time bend towards the sun. i know you say that there's no-one for you, but here is one.

in the game itself, it's mentioned by one of the main characters, who is trying to get through to our very depressed protagonist. she's essentially letting our protagonist know that some day she will find happiness, and that she's there for her~

🚀 until the stars all fall down: last but not least ! another song one, this is from the soundtrack of the inspiration game itself, it's called 'everything's alright', by laura shigihara. i shan't spoil too much of it; just know it plays at perhaps the most emotional moment of the game x.x

when this world is no more, the moon is all we'll see. i'll ask you to fly away with me. until the stars all fall down, they empty from the sky. but I don't mind, if you're with me, then everything's alright.

edit: the story is now called “telomeres”. it's a reference to the sleep token song of the same name.

and that's that ! i hope this isn't too long x.x thanks for the question and for being so sweet~!

#💕#🌷#🕰️#🐈‍⬛#🎻#🕊️#🦇#💐#🔪#🚀#🧸

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oceangenasi · 1 year

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playtest, level one, nat 20, and dice!

Playtest: What class (or subclass) do you want to try out?

I’ve played almost every class for at least a handful of sessions by now — the only ones I haven’t tried are druid and artificer. But I’m absolutely not interested in playing a druid and probably never will be. Too much to keep track of.... I say as my wizard hits level 12 and nears 150 spells in her spellbook.

I would have liked to develop Oren, my Battle Master Fighter, a bit more. I was looking forward to a very crunchy & strategic melee build — the opposite of my paladin’s reckless & enthusiastic whacking technique. But Oren’s party TPKed after only four levels 😔

I've also got a barbarian that would have been fun to try, but the campaign died out pretty quickly. I may bring her or Oren back next time I have an opportunity to join a new campaign.

Level One: What was your first experience with D&D? How did you hear about it? What was your first game like?

I mostly heard about it because my dad got back into 5e and was playing in a game with some family friends every other week! I very briefly played as a cleric at that table during a combat encounter with a dragon, which was technically my first D&D experience.

But also, when summer rolled around, my dad got a group together to play through Lost Mine of Phandelver, when I rolled up my dragonborn Oath of Vengeance paladin and really dove in. That first session involved the goblin-and-wolves encounter from the boxed adventure, and I made my first real character decision as Rion -- to throw a javelin after the one goblin who was trying to escape. Rion's hallmark was that her emotions, especially her anger, frequently drowned out her nominal devotion to the god of mercy. So I felt really good about making a decision in-character that I personally -- and Rion, later -- would find a little morally suspect, because it made sense with her personality.

Nat 20: What's the most memorable RP scene you've been a part of?

I've got a lot of treasured moments and can't really pick just one, so I wanna pick a few from some of my favorite campaigns:

Haven -- everything involved in Wormageddon, tbh. I wrote the first half up as a story here and still consider that maybe the best and most interesting session of D&D I've ever played. Although in terms of sheer memorability, the session a few weeks ago where the whole party collaborated to remove a cursed obsidian butt plug from the insides of our tiefling warlock does come to mind.

Basil -- oughghghghgghgh.... Basil trying to kill another PC, which he failed at, and then his attempt to escape, which he also failed at. Super super dramatic, kicked off several hours more of RP while the party visited him in jail. Really grim and emotionally intense, but also turned out to have some of the most surprising character moments I've ever encountered. Basil's life was spared, which neither he nor I had expected, and that set off a whole new character arc for him that I was very excited to explore.

Rosie -- Rosie devising a plot to publicly humiliate and discredit the evil NPC that had been lying to and manipulating the town, and then the execution of that plot. It went spectacularly well, and required the specialized skills of almost everyone in the party. It also was a chance to show off Rosie's mean streak, which takes a lot to trigger.

Fathom -- waking up after his death and discussing the idea of becoming Melora's champion with... Melora herself. He got a sick new arm made of water from it. I wrote about that here!

Dice: Do you have any dice rituals? Preferences? Collections? Does such thing as dice luck really exist?

Ahahahahahahaha—

I don't know who you are, anon, but I have to assume you know me, because yeah. I own, as of writing this post, 150 sets of D&D dice. I have so many fun sets -- metal, glass, gemstone, wood, sharp-edge, silicone, you name it.

I keep them in plastic apothecary jars in the front hall of my apartment, sorted by character palette! For example, Haven's jar is mostly pink and gold, with a scattering of rainbow because it suits her messy personality. I haven't taken a proper photo of the palettes in a while, but I'm always happy to show them off to anyone who asks 👀

Send me more of these asks please!! The list is here <3

#anon thank you SO much #I love love love talking about D&D #I was so excited to get this ask hehe #d&d #anon ask #answered

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mellowyandere · 3 years

Text

You’re Ours to Protect

Had a weird dream last night. Thought you might enjoy it.

Reader: F

Characters: Toshinori Yagi (All Might), Aizawa Shouta (Eraserhead), Yamada Hizashi (Present Mic)

Summary: Your time as an anti-hero might finally be coming to an end. With three pros on your tail it’s a miracle this didn't happen sooner. (Reader has a quirk but it’s not very important to the smut.)

Length: 4.5 K (I have come to the conclusion that I am incapable of writing below 4 K)

Warnings: non-con, yandere themes, slight bondage/restraints, voyeurism, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, anal fingering, anal sex, M/M/F, mostly clothed male, naked reader, slight cum swallowing, Eraserhead and Present Mic are in an established relationship in this fic.

Hands were on your body, hands that shouldn’t be there. Your mind was stuck in a fog, your limbs so heavy you could barely move them. What was going on? You strained to remember, thinking long and hard about what might have led you here as calloused fingers blazed trails along your exposed thighs. You managed to wiggle your limbs a bit, shaking off the haze that muddled your brain.

You groaned, trying to open your eyes so you can get a better understanding of your surroundings. Your hands were restrained behind your back but it seemed your legs were free. You'd murder who ever had their fucking hands on you. As your eyes adjusted to the light you couldn't help but groan again as the figure in front of you came into view. You tried and failed to subtly use your quirk, this didn’t look good.

“Eraserhead. Didn’t realize you were still wasting your time looking for me. Not my fault I beat you to that criminal. Hero’s leaving trash like him alive is such a stupid concept. He was a murderer you know.”

You looked around to the best of your ability as you spoke, you were sitting on a plush dark green couch in what appeared to be a relatively empty basement. You had been stripped of your gear, leaving you in your underwear and an oversized t-shirt. Two men were flanking you on the couch. The one to your left you didn't recognize. He was ridiculously tall, as well as skinny. Blond hair a mess as two long bangs hid his eyes from view. To your right was a pro you did recognize. His emerald green eyes sparkled in delight behind his civilian glasses as he grinned down at you. So it was their hands on your body currently. They’d die first then.

“So, what does that make you?” the dark haired pro murmured, leaning forwards and somewhat regaining your attention.

You ignored his question, opting to look about some more. There wasn't a one-way mirror or any recording device in sight. Were they interrogating you off the books? This whole situation seemed off, these were heroes right? They’d convict you and leave you to rot in a dingy jail cell somewhere.. but this didn't look like a normal interrogation room.

“I know this is my first time getting caught and all but this doesn’t really seem up to protocol. Gonna haul me away after having fun or something?” You shifted your gaze to the obsidian eyes in front of you, leaning forwards to mimic his posture.

Present Mic barked out a laugh, hand squeezing harder on you thigh much to your annoyance. “Sorry babe but prison won’t be your final destination! I mean after all y’aint evil, just a lil misguided is all, nothin’ three pros can’t fix.” He ended his sentence with a pinch to your leg.

“If you don’t get your fucking hands off me I’ll kill you!” You snarled, turning and getting up in Present Mic’s face. The tall blond to your left pulled his hands back, scooting away as Present Mic continued to leer down at you.

“HAH little girls got some bite, but we already knew that. Don’t think I didn’t notice you trying to use that quirk. I’m hurt now! You really would try to kill me huh?” he mocked with a fake pout, but you could see the amusement in his eyes.

“I’m sure you’ve already realized by now you can’t use your quirk. It wasn’t easy making a device to cancel it out, but thanks to our newest colleague here the hardest part was collecting your DNA and picking what color collar we wanted.” Eraserhead leaned forward, fingers tugging on the collar you only now just realized was around your neck.

You tried to bite him, but he pulled back. If only you could wipe that stupid smirk off his face with a heart attack. Your quirk was the ability to clot blood after all. A handy trick if you found yourself injured, but even more so for killing once you learned how to properly control it. No one really batted an eye at an ischemic stroke due to the clotting of an artery to the brain. Well.. almost nobody..

“You have a very impressive ability,” the tall blond stated, “in all honesty we probably wouldn’t have caught on if we hadn’t watched you kill. You’ve induced countless of natural looking deaths, but upon closer inspection you target people whose crimes would have landed them in jail. Noble, but very misguided. You’re pretty reckless though, what if you had gotten hurt?”

“So fucking what if I did.” You kept your eyes glued to Present Mic as you responded, trusting him a lot less than the man behind you. His eyes narrowed dangerously at your snarky rebuttal.

“Language young lady, and that’s no way to talk! What would compel you to risk your life, why don’t you trust your hero’s more?”

You clenched your teeth in frustration but didn’t respond. You were done cooperating, not like you were doing much to begin with though.

The scrapping of a metal chair on concrete drew your gaze as Eraserhead stood up.

“Back up Zashi, I’ll take over from here. Toshinori you’re fine where you are.”

You couldn’t help but struggle a bit at his words. “What do you mean, what the hell are you going to do!? You insane or something? Just turn me in to the police!”

“You really don't pay attention do you. Hizashi already said you’re not going to the police. I don’t know what skeletons you have in your closet, or why you started killing people, but that will come out in due time. For now you don’t have to kill anymore. The three of us will take care of you, without the law sentencing you to life. We’ve been hunting you down for so long. We’ve been very patient, but right now you need us to help show you what you’ve been missing. Running around all by yourself, you must have been so lonely.” Eraserhead finished up his little spiel as he stalked forwards, looming over your sitting frame.

“Don’t fucking TOUC-gah!” You had been so focused on Eraserhead’s approach you hadn’t noticed Present Mic coming at you with a gag until it was too late.

“Yagi already asked you to watch that dirty mouth of yours, don’t worry though babe once you simmer down a bit we’ll take it out.”

“Ple-please Hizashi call me Toshinori we’ve been over this.”

You gave Eraserhead your best glare as he stopped in front of you. He smiled softly at your defiance before wedging his knee in between your legs and slamming his hands onto the couch, caging you in. Wait by show you what you were missing.. these hero's were going to..?

You tried to talk reason, but all that came out were muffled pleas. None of it coherent.

“We’ve been watching over you for 5 months now kitten. Trying to find the best way to approach you but in the end taking you somewhere safe seemed to be the only logical solution. While getting this house ready for your arrival we all started to feel as if you belonged here all along. I know it’s not fair, we’ve had so much longer to get to know you, but you’ll know us just as well soon enough.”

It was official. These pros had lost their damn minds. They actually figured out how to justify what they were about to do to you. Your promise to only kill criminals was really coming back to bite you on the ass.

You brought your legs up and tried to kick him off, but were quickly thwarted by two pairs of hands grabbing them and pinning you down.

“Now now sweetheart none of that, Shouta here is just going to show you our conviction. No one will ever hurt you again now that we are here. Now that I am here” The last part was mumbled more to himself than the group.

Something must have happened to these men to cause their hero complex to grow into something so twisted. But that was no fucking excuse for their actions. They needed therapy, not someone to play damsel in distress with.

Shouta lowered himself between your legs until he was kneeling on the floor in front of you. You tried to plead with your eyes, beg him to stop, but he met your gaze with something bordering love. That wasn’t good. Breaking eye contact he looked down at your underwear, bringing a hand up you held your breath as he gently brushed against your core.

“You can’t even begin to imagine how much I’ve dreamed of this moment. You truly are something special, and yet you treat your life with such little regard it’s maddening.” He trailed his knuckles against the thin fabric as he spoke, your traitorous body sparking heat in your lower abdomen in anticipation.

Pulling your underwear to the side he slowly began to slide his fingers up and down your progressively wetting folds.

“Well now, someone secretly enjoyin’ themselves baby,” Hizashi all but purred, his hand squeezing your flesh while his gaze was transfixed on where his partner was violating you. You couldn’t help but let out a pitiful whine. It was absolutely humiliating being spread out before these three men.

The noises your wet cunt were making were no help to your embarrassment, and they only got worse once the dark haired pro rid you of your last line of defense and began to insert two of his fingers.

“H-how does she feel?” Toshinori couldn’t help but ask. His face was flushed red, along with the tips of his ears as his vibrant blue eyes watched Shouta’s fingers slowly sink inside you.

“Tight, shit she’s tight. She’s perfect, so fucking wet for her hero's. I’ll work you open kitten don’t worry.” You couldn’t help but clamp down on his fingers at his words, earning a deep chuckle in response.

“See now, such a good girl aren’t you. Prison is no place for you kitten, though if you want we can always role-play your wardens.”

Role-play my ass we’re already living it, was all you could think bitterly.

As if he read your mind Shouta couldn’t help but continue to antagonize you, thumb beginning to make light circles against your clit as he pumped his fingers, adding a third and quickly burying them knuckle deep. Soft whimpers slipped from your mouth as you tried in vain to wiggle away from Eraserhead’s deft fingers.

Hizashi was getting impatient, removing one of his hands to grasp your breast through the t-shirt you had on. His slim fingers began to pinch and rub your nipple, though his eyes never left your cunt.

Toshinori was struggling in his own way. Raspy breaths with slight coughs as he grew more and more aroused. He too removed a hand from your leg, but instead made quick work of the zipper on his pants. Taking his semi hard cock in his hand he began gently stroke himself while watching your display.

You truly were everything they had ever wanted. But you didn’t want this, despite your bodies responses to their ministrations. You could feel it, Shouta seemed to know exactly where to stroke as he worked you up tighter and tighter, velvety walls clamping down at your approaching climax.

You found each man murmuring their own words of praise, anywhere from “That’s it baby girl, take all of Sho now,” to “Such a perfect princess, do you want to finish?” The man between your legs even adding to the mantra of soft words spoken to you. “So close kitten, see what good girls get. You’re going to cum for me okay?”

He posed it like a question but you knew it was far from it. It was a statement, a matter of fact statement that you couldn’t deny even if you had tried. Your back arched, moans and mewls intercepted but not completely blocked out by your gag as you rocked against his hand. He gladly continued to finger you, watching as you came down from your high and only then removed his hand.

You were panting hard, shame quickly washing away the pleasure from your orgasm. Sensing the shift in your demeanor Hizashi was quick to pounce, peppering your face in kisses despite your shifty protests and groans of despair. “None of that now babe, after all we’re just gettin’ this show started!”

Shouta stood and moved out from between your legs, licking some of your slick off his hand before he wiped the rest on his black pants leg. “You got lube Zashi?” Hizashi paused his attack and shot the dark haired pro a million dollar smile. “You bet our babes cute ass I got it! Lemme find it, hold her Toshi.”

Toshinori floundered a bit, cock in hand as Hizashi shoved you closer to him, before jumping up from the couch. Eyes trailing down to his hand you couldn’t help but freeze in shock. Not only was this man stupid tall, his dick was frighteningly large. The older hero noticed your stare and couldn’t help but chuckle a bit at your expression. “Don’t worry princess, Shouta and Hizashi are going to help you today. My sides acting up so I’ll only be watching.”

As if on cue the man was hit by a coughing fit, and much to your surprise he even coughed up some blood. Eraserhead was still looming over you, leaning over he gently rubbed the older blonds back as he tried to ease him through the pain. You didn’t dare move as all this transpired around you. What good would it have done you anyways? You were effectively quirkiness, and your fighting skills would be severely lacking against the two heroes you knew. You had no idea who this Toshinori guy was, but if he was close to Eraserhead and Present Mic you doubted he was weak.

You heard Hizashi rummaging behind you through a dresser you hadn’t noticed earlier. Craning your neck, you peered over and cried out in frustration.

“Tada!” He sung triumphantly, a small bottle of lube in his hand. “Act two can now officially begin!” You could only yell and wiggle about in protest, your arms still tied behind your back. Toshinori’s hand on your thigh moved to gently pat you on the head.

“Behave now for them okay? If you’re good we can show you the rest of our home after this.”

You jerked your head out from under his hand and yelled more incoherent nonsense out of frustration. You had expected anger to replace the adoring look in his eyes but you were only met with fond amusement.

He stood up with a hearty laugh, erection still in hand as he grabbed Shouta’s discarded chair, sitting down facing the couch. Shouta was quick to take Toshinori’s place on the couch while Hizashi took up residence behind you.

“I have a feelin’ this star ain’t a fan of the spotlight, no need to be camera shy babe.” You watched Shouta roll his eyes at his partner in crime before he began to manhandle you. Hands under your armpits he pulled you up and wrangled you onto your knees facing him on the couch.

Hizashi slid one knee between your legs so you couldn't close them. Your tied hands couldn’t help but brush up against his clothed hard on, causing him to rut against you a bit in anticipation.

Without warning he took a solid grip of your t-shirt and ripped it off. You squeaked in surprise, your face heating up as you realized you were the only person fully naked in the room.

“Was it really necessary to rip my shirt?”

“Sorry about that Toshi! Didn’t want to delay the show with takin’ off her bindings yah dig? You rip them a bunch anyways so what’s another to the pile? But ain’t this just so much better, our baby girl on full display it makes my heart swoon!”

“Just get her ready Hizashi, and no rushing it, you don’t want to hurt her.”

“Aight aight sorry I’ll get to work, you keep her happy.”

Both men moved closer, pressing your body between them. They had propped themselves up on their knees and had you effectively stuck. Shouta gently placed one hand around your neck, giving your collar a tug, while the other trailed down and began to gently work your still wet pussy.

You stared into his chest, trying your best to space out but jerked back to reality when you heard the pop of a lid behind you.

“Don’t worry babe I’ll get you ready, I’m somewhat of a pro yah know?”

That was when you felt his lubed finger gently prodding your other hole. You jolted forwards into Shouta who didn’t even budge in response to your full body weight. Hizashi simply shuffled closer, continuing to push until finally he breached you. You whimpered at the uncomfortable intrusion.

Shouta's fingers lazily worked your cunt as he rocked his erection against your lower abdomen. Despite the fact that you hated the feeling of his growing arousal you couldn’t help but lean into him to try and get away from Hizashi as he slipped another finger inside. Tears slowly rolled down your face in frustration as the two heroes prepared your body.

“There we go kitten, you’re doing so well. Just be patient alright and it won’t hurt so bad.” Shouta removed his hand from around your neck and placed it on your head, angling your gaze to the third member of the group you had almost forgotten while pulling you flush to his clothed chest so you couldn’t freely change your field of view.

Toshinori was leaned back in the metal folding chair, which looked comically small with him sitting on it. His eyes were clouded with lust as he stroked his thick cock. His own pre-cum and spit adding obscene noises to his ministrations. He gave you a lopsided smile as you made eye contact, causing you to quirky avert your gaze.

By this point Hizashi had worked three fingers knuckle deep into your tight hole, but coupled with Shouta’s work the line between uncomfortable and pleasurable began to mix together. A breathless moan escaped you as the two pros finally got their desired reaction.

“She’s as good as she’s gonna get Sho, let’s say you and me start the finale I can’t take feelin’ her tight lil hole clamping down on my fingers any longer. Not when I got somethin’ much better for her.”

Your tears flowed a bit faster at your impending fate. This was fucking insane! You might have been a murderer, but you weren't expected to be a good person unlike these men. These heroes who were now violating you.

Since Shouta was in black sweatpants he merely leaned back a bit and pulled them down, cock springing free. He had a solid girth to him, red tip dripping pre down his shaft to his unruly black pubic hair. You heard a zipper behind you as the blond freed himself, though due to being squashed between the two you had no idea what to prepare for.

Hizashi hummed in contemplation at your tied hands, currently in the way of his objective. “Bonds might have to go Sho, you get her hands?” The sleepy hero merely nodded grasping your wrists as Hizashi swiftly untied them.

“Ready now primadonna?”

“Ha ha you’re soo funny Sho... but yes, shit, I’m fucking ready.”

You kept quiet this time, head pressed against Shouta’s chest as you listened to his rapidly beating heart. You gave one last pleading look to the lean blond watching intently from the sideline, but all he did was shrug his shoulders with a small smile on his face.

“You’re going to do great princess don’t worry.”

You felt the tips of each man at their respective entrance, Shouta's teasing your soaking cunt while Hizashi lightly probed your lubed ass. You closed your eyes and accepted defeat. They gently began to rut their hips, cocks sinking deeper with each thrust. You felt uncomfortably full as they breached you.

“Oh fuck oh fuck I can feel you through her.” The blond quickly grabbed your breasts, tweaking your nipples like he had earlier.

“Easy does it kitten, we got you,” Shouta groaned out.

You weren’t a fan of Hizashi behind you, rocking forward into Shouta as they continued to fuck into you. He squeezed down on your wrists in warning, hot breath fanning the top of your head. It didn’t take much longer before they both had finally bottomed out. You groaned in distress while they groaned in bliss.

“I’ve got her wrists you help her out alright, and take it easy.”

“Sheesh I heard yah the first time, I’ll help our lil girl out.”

Hizashi snaked a hand in between you and Shouta, finding your clit.

They both continued fucking into you, Hizashi matching Shouta’s pace as they stimulated your body. You were angry, humiliated, and yet somehow you were so turned on it was embarrassing. You should be thrashing about, snarling into your gag, but instead all you could do was rock your body to their salacious tempo.

Peeking your eyes open at a particularly hard thrust from Hizashi you saw Toshinori on the edge of the chair. You could just barely make out his raspy breaths and small moans over Shouta and Hizashi’s groaning. His brilliant blue eyes bore into your own. One of his hands worked his long shaft while the other was death gripping his clothed thigh. It almost looked as if steam was pouring off of him. Was he always that muscular?

You didn’t have long to contemplate Toshinori though, with a pinch to your clit Hizashi made sure to regain your attention. He had picked up his pace, throwing Shouta a bit off balance. He leaned down sucking and biting at your neck while rolling your perky nipple. Shouta felt your velvety walls clamp down around his cock, picking up his tempo to match Hizashi’s.

By now you were a mess. Traitorous moans fumbling from your mouth as the two heroes played your body. They had picked up an alternating tempo, never leaving you without a cock inside your body. The pleasure had you throwing your head back, leaving your neck exposed and making room for Shouta to join Hizashi in leaving little claiming bites all along your delicate skin.

“She’s getting close Hizashi, we’re gonna fuck her through it alright?”

The blond pro behind you only moaned out something that sounded vaguely affirmative, eager to feel your tight walls clamp down on him.

You were beyond fighting them, on the brink of orgasm all it took was one pointed thrust from Shouta to have you crumbling apart. You pushed back into Hizashi’s chest, his t-shirt sticking to your sweat soaked skin as you clamped down on both of them. Hizashi moaned into your neck, his quirk picking up a bit as he lost his composure. Shouta had released your hands, ripping off your gag so he could grab your face and crash his mouth to yours, swallowing your moans as your newly freed hands grabbed fist fulls of his shirt to stabilize yourself.

As stated they continued fucking into you, dragging out your orgasm as your walls spasmed around them. Shouta’s tongue delved into your mouth, his own deep moans rumbling into you.

“Go-gonna fuckin’ cum Sho, n- not much longer.”

In response Eraserhead reached behind you, grabbing a fist full of the blonds hair and giving it a firm tug which was enough to push him over the edge.

“Sh-shit,” he wheezed, hips stilling as his cum filled your sore ass. “You fu- you fucking dirty cheater makin’ me finish first like that.” In kind Hizashi grabbed some of Shouta’s hair, pulling his mouth away from yours and up to his own.

“Go ahead and cum in her Sho you know you want to,” Hizashi taunted between kisses. The familiar sound of metal against concrete drew your gaze as the all too familiar symbol of peace stood at his full height. Holy fucking shit it was All Might.

The two pros ignored his approach, Shouta’s hips becoming a bit more deranged as he fucked into you. All Might reached in between the two and gripped your lower jaw, dazzling smile almost blinding you.

“Be a good girl now and open for me, you don’t have to swallow it all but I’d appreciate the effort.” He didn’t leave you with much of a choice finding it impossible to close your mouth with his grip, which at this point was very sore from the gag. The tip of his large member gently brushed against your lips as he shuttered at the feeling of your soft flesh.

By this point Shouta was thrusting aggressively against your battered cervix, mouth locked with Hizahi’s as he finally reached his own release. His hips stuttered as warmth filled your cunt.

Now all that was left was All Might. Your jaw strained to accommodate him, but he seemed to be more than aware of your limitations. He simply pushed the tip in, one hand stroking his shaft while the other gently pet your head.

“So pretty,” he cooed down at you. “Just like that princess, I’m gonna cum now okay?”

You simply kept your mouth open, tongue flat against the underside of his still cock as his cum filled your mouth. The bitter taste made you sputter, cum running down your chin as more took its place. After a couple more spurts he gently pulled away, some of the bitter substance sliding down your throat while the majority ended up down your chin and onto the couch below.

All four of you were panting, frozen in time until finally All Might disappeared in a large cloud of smoke. The man you had originally believed to be some unknown hero named Toshinori now stood in his place, shyly looking down at you.

“I guess that’s one way to show her huh big guy.” Hizashi jested.

“I-I know probably not the most ideal but I couldn’t help myself,” he murmured a bit embarrassed.

Hizashi and Shouta pulled out, their cum immediately running down your legs causing you to cringe a bit at the sensation.

“You guys.. fucking suck.” was all you could think of at the moment. You waited for the rage, for them to berate or attack you, but instead all that met you was a chorus of soft chuckles.

“Figured you wouldn’t be easy to convince kitten, but don’t worry. Between the three of us you’ll come around.”

These three men must have some thick fucking skulls to dismiss you so casually, that or their obsession was a lot deeper than you could even begin to comprehend.

“Some fucking heroes you are,” you grumbled lowly.

“Some fuckin’ heroes we are indeed cutie! HAH get it? Cause we just fucked yah?” Hizashi laughed at his own joke while Toshinori and Shouta groaned.

“Alright don’t make me gag you next, let’s just get everybody upstairs and clean up. We’ll do the house tour later kitten, for now we’ll just show you to your room.”

#tw: noncon #yandere toshinori yagi #yandere aizawa #yandere hizashi yamada #yandere all might #yandere eraserhead #yandere present mic #yandere my hero academia #yandere x reader #aizawa x reader #yandere erasermic #erasermic x reader #yamada hizashi x reader #toshinori x reader

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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

Note

👌👀🤞CQL AU where the sect leader who becomes obsessed with finding and refining the Yin Iron is Jiang Fengmian.

ao3

It helped a little, Nie Huaisang thought, that Jiang Cheng looked about as unhappy to be here as anyone else – though of course it wasn’t the same at all, what with him being the leader of the indoctrination camp and the rest of them hostages against their families.

Attempt the impossible, indeed. If Jiang Fengmian thought that the Yin Metal would be able to keep Nie Huaisang’s brother from getting revenge for this, he had another thing coming.

Jiang Cheng, Nie Huaisang thought, knew that.

He stood in front of them during the day, saying the words he had presumably heard from his madman of a father a thousand times – we must have peace in the cultivation world, he said, eyes fixed firmly over their heads, face set in a grimace. Conflict between us leads only on the road to death, whether to our sects or to the rogue cultivators that travel outside. It will no longer be tolerated. If the rest of the world won’t agree to peace, we will give it to them; there is no line that we cannot cross to achieve our goals.

Personally, Nie Huaisang didn’t think Cangse Sanren’s death was as much of a loss as all that – with all apologies to her son Wei Wuxian, who seemed like a perfectly pleasant person if one ignored the fact that he, like Jiang Cheng, was currently acting as their jailor, albeit part-time – but he admitted that he was biased on account of, well, her having died due to finding the stupid Yin Iron sword and that being how Jiang Fengmian got into the whole business in the first place.

And now here they were, the heirs of all the Great Sects, kicking their heels while being indoctrinated. Even Wen Chao was here, looking pissy as always, and that must be driving Wen Ruohan utterly mad – say what one would about the man, murderer that he was, he hated being insulted, and forcing him to hand over one of his sons like this was an insult.

Maybe he and da-ge will be able to resolve the feud long enough to rescue us and defeat the Jiang sect jackass – I mean, sect leader, Nie Huaisang thought, not optimistically.

Still, he reassured himself, it could be worse. He, at least, had figured out how to survive.

“You said something about liquor that tasted like candy?” Xue Yang asked, appearing like a ghost by his side. It was a move meant to frighten, so Nie Huaisang played along, jumping into the air and pretending to lose his head like a small child dealing with his first ghost; it made Xue Yang – a descendant of Xue Chonghai, the original Yin Metal bastard – smile like he was a child himself.

“I did,” Nie Huaisang said, brushing the dust off himself. “I also have porn, if you like.”

Xue Yang did like. Xue Yang was Jiang Fengmian’s Yin Metal expert, whether willingly or unwillingly, and that was useful, so Nie Huaisang put up with these little annoyances.

For all his clever planning, though, he hadn’t been expecting Xue Yang to know how to share.

“– he doesn’t even like me,” he heard someone say as they approached the room Xue Yang had picked for their little party, sounding full of despair, and the only reason Nie Huaisang was saying ‘someone’ rather than Jiang Cheng, whose voice it pretty obviously was, was because he didn’t understand why Jiang Cheng would be saying that.

“Jiang Cheng, it’s not that bad,” Wei Wuxian said immediately after, destroying Nie Huaisang’s remaining illusions. “You’re his son, of course he likes you –”

“He doesn’t, though. He drove my mother out back to her maternal parents, such that jiejie and I haven’t seen her in months – he doesn’t mind jiejie, because she’s like him, but I’m like my mother. He hates me! That’s why he put me here to be in charge of this stupid camp…no, don’t. I don’t want to hear you say that it’s a gesture of respect, that it shows he trust me, because it’s not. I’m only here because he can’t find a good reason to throw me in among the rest to be a prisoner.”

“You exaggerate,” Wei Wuxian said. “Uncle Jiang –”

“He wishes he were your father instead,” Jiang Cheng said, sounding tired. “You smile at him, you have a sense of humor like him, you’re brilliant and accomplished – you’re even helping him refine the Yin Metal in all sorts of new ways. The only reason you’re here at all, rather than working on the Yin Metal by his side or leading our armies, is because you asked to be here. Tell me that’s not true, if you dare.”

Wei Wuxian’s silence was damning.

“I just don’t know what I can do about it. I don’t – I’m not even expecting him to like me, you know? Not anymore. I’ve given up hope of him treating me like a son.”

“Jiang Cheng –”

“Shut up. You’re just like him! For all your talk of being righteous, you go along with what he wants just because it’s him asking, or else you wouldn’t be helping with this stupid plan of his.”

Wei Wuxian sighed. “Jiang Cheng, he’s your father and my benefactor. We have to be filial! There’s nothing to be done…where’s Xue Yang? He said he’d be bringing us something fun. That’ll be a good distraction.”

Wei Wuxian’s words were light and breezy, but he sounded disturbed, too. Like he agreed with Jiang Cheng’s conclusion that they weren’t being righteous, and it bothered him, and he wanted to find something he could do about it.

Perhaps Nie Huaisang had written the two of them off as stupid and self-absorbed jailors a little too soon.

He put a bright scared smile on his face and followed Xue Yang in. “Uh, hi!” he said, and the two young masters of the Jiang sect looked at him with circles under their eyes. “I brought liquor and porn. Do you have any snacks to go with it?”

#mdzs #nie huaisang #jiang cheng #wei wuxian #xue yang #my fic #my fics

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hellsenthero · 4 years

Text

Below Zero

Written by: hellsenthero

Bucky X FemReader

After a mission gone wrong Y/N’s left hypothermic and injured. With no jet to get them back to the Avengers Compound safely Bucky works to save his partner, all while hoping he’ll get the chance to tell the girl about his feelings for her.

Warnings/Themes: Angst, fluff. (1.5K Words.)

Masterlist and Bucky Bingo.

**********

It was a coldness that Y/N had never known before. She could barely move, barely speak, barely think.

“Come on doll, not much farther.” Bucky rasped. Trudging through the snow he carried her, his body giving off a delicate warmth that she curled into. If she had the energy to speak, she’d hassle him about how the hell he stayed warm despite the freezing temperature, but alas, all that came out of her was a muffled groan. “Keep your eyes open.” Bucky commanded. Giving her a sudden jostle her eyes peaked open, looking up onto Bucky’s baby blues that softened as he gazed back down at her.

The two silently vowed to themselves that the next time they saw Tony, they’d give him a piece of their mind for the fun little mission he sent them on. His words, not theirs.

It was supposed to be a clean, easy sweep of an abandoned Hydra hideout for any left behind files they could get their hands on. And it was certainly not supposed to blow up the second they entered the five digit pin code to unlock the steel front door.

They were lucky they were alive, and relatively unharmed. All thanks to Y/N’s quick thinking and the heavy steel door that protected them from most of the blast. Survive a bomb only to be killed by the cold. Just their luck.

With the building ruined and bits of shrapnel protruding from Y/N’s thigh, the two Avengers were forced back to their jet, only to find the electronics system damaged. Meaning that they were stuck, stranded in the middle of nowhere and the damn door to the jet wouldn’t even close for them to hide away in until help arrived. And with an injured partner and freezing temperatures Bucky immediately made the decision to begin hiking towards a nearby safe house.

A safehouse that Y/N had no idea about until Bucky told her. She couldn’t even remember where they were exactly, and she didn’t particularly care at the moment. The only thought racing through her mind then was warmth. Warmth, I need warth. Give me warmth. So cold. Too cold. I need warmth.

“Buck…” Y/N groaned out, an attempt at telling the man how freezing she was.

“I know.” Bucky soothed. And he did know, he knew just how cold the girl in his arms was, how hypothermia was taking over, how death hung above her, dark and ominous like the grim reaper’s scythe. “We’re almost there.” He told her honestly. Bucky could see it, in the near distance the safehouse appeared as a brown blur through the snow fall.

Inside he could start a fire, get Y/N warm, use the backup radio’s to call for extraction after his and Y/N’s were ruined and patch up her thigh. Hopefully he could even get some food and water into the girl. He just needed to get to the safe house first.

“Y/N,” he called, jostling her once more when he realized her eyes had slipped back shut, “Y/N.” Y/N’s eyes remained shut and Bucky cursed to himself knowing that the girl was now in an even greater danger of not waking back up. “Come on doll, stay with me.”

Racing through the last few yards of snow Bucky finally got into the safehouse. The door opened up into a living room. There was a couch laden with blankets and pillows set before a fireplace and Bucky sighed in relief at the sight of it. He set Y/N down gently on the couch before doing a quick scan around the safehouse, ensuring that the two really were safe.

“Okay, doll. Time to wake up.” Bucky said once he came back to the couch, content in knowing the property was safe and a new radio in hand. “Bucky Barnes to Avengers Compound.” Bucky said into the radio, praying he remembered the channel Tony had set up properly.Setting down the radio Bucky went to undoing the zipper of Y/N’s coat, taking off the snow covered puffer he threw it to the floor haphazardly before slipping a pillow under her head. His flesh hand came up to her cheek, gently patting her in hopes of waking her up, but it was no use. With a worried grunt he layered the girl with all four blankets before going to start up a warm fire in the fireplace.

“Bucky, Tony and Steve here, what’s going on?” Steve’s voice cracks through the radio. With the fire now crackling away in the fireplace Bucky picks the radio back up.

“Steve, Y/N’s down and we’re stranded. I got us to a nearby safe house West of the base but it’s not looking good. We need to be extracted ASAP.”

“We’re searching for your coordinates now.” Steve answers. Bucky breathes a sigh of relief knowing the team will get to them as soon as possible. Setting down the radio he races across the room to the first aid kit hanging from the wall, bringing it back to where Y/N lays on the couch he pulls out the equipment he needs to tend to her thigh. “We found you, leaving now.” Steve radio’s in. “How bad is Y/N?”

“She’s hypothermic, unconscious and has shrapnel protruding from her thigh, so I’d say she’s fucking bad, Steve.” Unable to control his temper Bucky growls into the radio, uncaring about what Steve will say to him on the matter later on. The only thing Bucky cares about now is Y/N and getting her to the compound where she can be treated and safe. Steve’s voice comes through the radio once more but Bucky doesn’t care, instead he begins talking to his partner as he rips open her pant leg, allowing him to treat her thigh.

“Hey doll, I need you to wake up. Please Y/N, I’m beggin’ here,” with the fire started and cracking away Bucky prays the heat will soon be enough to wake the girl up, “it’s not often that a super soldier begs, doll. Do me a favour and open those pretty eyes for me.”

It takes a while, but as Bucky takes out the last piece of metal from your leg he finally gets a response from you. It’s only a murmur, but it’s like music to Bucky’s ears.

“That’s it doll, wake up. I need you to wake up and show those pretty Y/E/C eyes of yours.” As you slowly peel open your eyes Bucky can’t help but think it’s the best thing he’s ever seen in his long life. “That’s it,” he says gently, with your leg now all bandaged up and cleaned of blood he brings up his flesh hand to your cheek, feeding you as much warmth as he can through the touch, “good girl, keep those eyes open.”

“Bu...Buck…” The girl croaks out. Her hand twitches in an effort to hold onto Bucky as she opens her eyes. The sight of him kneeling over her filling her with a sudden need to press up against the super soldier, a need to feel him against her so she can be assured that this isn’t all a fever dream. “Buck...hold...me.” Speaking is still too difficult for Y/N but her whispered words are heard by the soldier. He wastes no time in getting under the blankets with Y/N as he too has a need to hold onto his partner, a need to be assured that she’s going to be okay, that if her eyes do fall shut once more that they won’t be shut for good.

“Don’t worry doll, I’m right here. You’re safe.” Bucky murmurs to the girl. Pulling her tightly against his chest he’s careful of her injury as he wraps his arms around her.

It doesn’t take long for Bucky to realize the buildup of emotion in him. Yes, he already knew long before this mission that he had feelings for Y/N. He already knew that he’d do anything she’d ask of him in a heartbeat and yet the realization of his love for her hadn’t fully hit him. At least, it hadn’t hit him until now, as he holds her in his arms.

He’s also shocked by the realization that his knack for self-hating thoughts around her is all but gone. For once he’s not thinking, I wish I could have her but I don’t deserve her. Or the other common one, she’s too pure for a monster like me. Instead, his thinking, when we get out of here I’m going to tell her I love her. And if she lets me I’m going to spend the rest of my days showing her why I deserve her and why she deserves me.

With these thoughts in mind the door to the safehouse opens, the rest of the team bursting in to get their two team members to safety.

It was safe to say that when Y/N woke up in the infirmary with Bucky sitting at her side, he told her about his feelings for her.

It was safe to say that with a smile of her own, Y/N admitted her feelings towards him too.

It was safe to say that together, they proved to each other for the rest of their days why they deserved each other.

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londonhalcyon · 2 years

Text

WIP Day of the Week

Perpetuating the cycle of bullying from @dumpsterhipster and co. by tagging @unoriginal2tall, @a-more-delicious-happiness, and any other writer, artist, or creator that wishes to participate! I’ll directly throw more of my mutuals under the bus later, but if anyone has something to share now, go ahead and tag me!

Here’s some out of context dialogue snippets and other little lines from Rosemary Reaper. I haven’t actually written any full chapters for this fic, just these bits as they come to mind. There’s also another special treat at the end.

“I hope you’re not here to start trouble.”

Ros looked up at the turrets humming on the roof. All barrels were trained on her. “And get shredded to bits? No, thank you. I’m just looking for directions—and to trade for food, if you have some to spare.”

The man was slow to lower his gun. “We might be able to come to an arrangement. Where’re you headed?”

“Diamond City.”

* * * *

“Ros, how old are you?”

She became suddenly focused on petting the cat in her lap, feeling a frown creep across her face. Her age wasn’t something she usually gave out to strange men much older than her.

“I’m sorry,” he said abruptly. “That was inappropriate of me to ask. I didn’t mean anything weird. You remind me of Mary, my eldest. She was twenty-one. Would be twenty-three now.” He didn’t need to clarify. Ros had seen the grave while scouting out the property. Mary wasn’t twenty-one anymore. Nor was she twenty-three.

“In that range,” Ros said.

* * * *

The ghoul called Chloe was wearing a “Women Want Me, Fish Fear Me” trucker cap, and Nora liked her instantly.

* * * *

“If ya don’t mind me askin’, what brings ya to the city, Ms…?”

“Yeah, not so hot on the ‘Ms.’”

“Oop, sorry. Mx…?”

“Ros.”

“Ros. What brings ya to the city, Mx. Ros?”

* * * *

“Oi, Sullivan. It’s McCreery. Got that horse’s owner ‘ere lookin’ for it. Them mutants are keepin’ their distance, so we should be good for a few. Ya mind opening the gate?”

Another voice crackled through the speaker. “Its owner? Well, I’ll be. Hang on, McCreery, I’m opening her up.”

* * * *

“Who trained you, kid? The KGB?”

Nora smacked his arm. In response to Ros’s blank look, she said, “Ignore him. He’s showing his age.”

“You have a hundred years on me, partner. Nothing wrong with reading a history book or two in your time.”

“Yeah? What century would that be, Valentine?”

* * * *

“I still prefer Pale Rider,” Nick said.

“Ehh…” Nora mirrored Piper’s grimace from before. “Too Eastwood.”

“I’m surprised you even know who that is.”

“First I’m too old, now this? Jeez, make up your mind, Nick.”

“The Grim Reaper is multicultural,” Piper said.

“Death is multicultural,” Nick corrected.

“On that lovely note,” Nora said, pushing back from the table, “I’m going to bed.”

* * * *

“Oh, gosh, that’s a big needle,” Piper said with forced lightness.

Nora hummed noncommittally, so Nick imagined it was even less reassuring when she said, “Do me a favor and look towards the window on the far wall, would you? That’s the one. Yep.”

* * * *

“Remember to breathe, Piper,” Nora said.

“I’m breathing,” Piper said with tension that suggested she was not in fact breathing. “Just got a little…ugh, a little woozy for a moment.”

“Tilt your head this way. Relax, deep breath. Sip on this.”

* * * *

“We’re open. You don’t—” Nick broke off. His fingers scratched against the door, metal against wood. A God-awful sound, really.

“Sorry to bother you, Mr. Valentine,” Danny said, “but I assume this belongs to you?”

Ros attempted a grin. She presumed it looked deranged, her hands being cuffed behind her back and all.

Nick gave her a flat stare. “Tell me why I should say yes.”

“Uh, I didn’t kill anyone?” she offered.

* * * *

Told you the fic wouldn’t be completely tragic. Mostly. Cause I don’t want to make it too easy on anyone, I’m gonna be sneaky again and switch fandoms. Here’s the treat I promised: a rough preview of Chapter 33 of The Mad Witch. This chapter’s gonna be a fun one.

Later that evening, long after Tonks had left on patrol, Penny found me curled up in a ball beneath a blanket on my bed. She didn’t say anything at first, simply climbed onto the bed to lie next to me, offering no more than a warm presence. It was all I needed to break.

“She lied to me,” I said, my voice cracking. I hadn’t meant to say it, and it sounded pitiful. The voice of some poor, heartbroken child.

Penny tucked my hair behind my ear. Softly, she said, “I know.”

“I crossed a line. It’s a bad line.”

“I know.” She kept stroking my hair, brushing the shorter strands of my fringe away from my face every time they escaped from behind my ear. “You know you have to tell her.”

“She’ll never forgive me.”

“That’s not true.”

“She’ll still be furious.”

“Maybe. But you’re long overdue for a conversation. There aren’t really any options left.”

I closed my eyes, because she was right and it was terrifying. “I don’t want to lose her,” I whispered.

“That’ll be up to her, once you take that step. It takes two, and if you’re the only one that’s been reaching…” She trailed off. I rolled over to bury my face in my pillow. “Hey, you. Come here.” Sitting up, she pulled me upright so she could slip her arms beneath mine in a hug. I rested my chin on her shoulder, feeling even more like a child. “Do you remember what you told me about Conall?” she asked.

I hummed noncommittally over her shoulder. She pushed me back so I was forced to see the determination in her sapphire eyes.

“If she breaks your heart…” she began with a smile.

“Oh, God.”

“…I’ll grab Tonks, and we’ll go knock some sense into her. Isn’t that right?” I leaned forward to press my forehead to her shoulder with a mortified laugh. Loving, yet mortified. She rubbed my back. “Whatever happens, I’ll be here for you. All right?”

“Thanks, Pen.”

“You’d do the same for me. You always have.”

#you have no idea how badly i want to share every line i’ve written recently #wip wednesday #rosemary reaper #fallout 4 fanfic #the mad witch #uhhh there are too many characters to tag

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jinmukangwrites · 3 years

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@damianwayneweek Day 2 (6-14): Undercover | Sibling rivalry | Damian having a nice day

Warnings: Mentions of trafficking, threats, violence, attempted kidnapping, injuries, healthy doses of angst

Note: hahahahaha once again I'm begging you all to pretend I posted this when it's still the 14th somewhere in the world. Please enjoy.

---

Damian didn't mean to get caught. Honest. As annoying as it is, he understands that there are certain parts of their nightlife that have to be handled by an adult. Going undercover, for one, is usually something that's left to Grayson. It's easier for adults to blend into some things than it is for... well... Teenagers.

Children, as Grayson would say. Even though Damian is not a child.

Not that it matters, however. Grayson, for the past week, has been putting off their normal patrols to get insider information on a recent underground trafficking scheme. Grayson has been working hard to find the people responsible for this and get on the inside to find where the victims are being kept and Damian had respected that. He's kept to the sidelines and worked on other cases that don't require so much adult delicacy.

The only issue was that tonight he ended up getting bored. There wasn't anything for him to do, and that butler wasn't giving him any useful suggestions to fill his time. He wasn't allowed to patrol alone while Grayson was undercover, but escaping through his bedroom window in a dark hoodie was simple enough.

One thing leads to another. He ended up walking into an alleyway where a man was getting rather forceful with a drunk woman. Damian was jogging forward and calling him out on the disgusting behavior before he even realized he recognized the profile of the man.

Grayson turned from the woman with wide, horrified eyes, not moving a muscle even as the woman slipped from beside him and rushed back into the bar's side door.

"Shit," is all Grayson said before more people came out from the shadows, and Damian realizes he's just stumbled upon Grayson's undercover work.

Damian, for all of his training, has no idea what to do as he's suddenly grabbed by one of the newcomers. He's just witnessed Grayson in his undercover work... attempting to kidnap a woman... and he shouldn't be here.

"The fuck did this brat come from," the man grabbing Damian sneers.

Damian reacts instinctively now, slamming his elbow back into their gut. The man wheezes and weakens his hold. Damian then ducks under a new pair of arms making a mad grab for him and is sure to trip them over onto the cement ground as they stumble past.

A beefier man charges at Damian like a bull, and he prepares to retaliate... only for Grayson to grab him by his arm and shove Damian behind his back.

"Wait," Grayson gasps, bringing his free hand up in front of him. The man stops in his tracks, as do all the others. "It's my... brother."

"Your brother?" A woman scoffs, and Grayson gives her a hard look.

A mean looking man steps forward, glaring daggers at Grayson. "What's he doin' here Malone? Thought'chu said you weren't followed."

"I'm sorry," Grayson says, sounding panicked. Damian wants to jump out from behind Grayson and give these kidnappers a piece of his mind. There can't be more than seven of them. Damian can take them with his hands tied behind his back. Grayson must sense this, because he tightens his hold on his arm. "I thought he was at home."

"Well, he wasn't," the man snarls. "And now that bitch is probably in there telling the barkeep some guy got handsy with her."

Grayson shakes his head. "She isn't. I paid off the barkeep. If we calm down, I can go back in there and finish the job. Danny here won't say anything, he knows what we have to do to survive these streets. Right, Danny?"

Damian's lips thin, but he nods. Damian doesn't know why Richard is acting all frightful right now. Has he forgotten the legacy of Damian's father that he holds? He carries the name of Batman, yet here he is looking like a frightened animal in front of these low-lives. He wants to argue and take down these imbeciles... but if there's one thing he's learned while in his ever lengthening stay in Gotham, Grayson usually has a reason for everything he does. If he thinks they need to act like they're frightened, then Damian will humor him. For now.

The man looks down from Grayson and gives Damian a narrowed look. It lasts only a moment before he looks at the bar side-door and... smirks?

He looks back at Grayson, keeping that smirk. "Alright, Malone. I'll take you up on that offer. You get the bitch, and we'll take care of Danny."

A bad feeling settles in Damian's gut. The hand on his arm tightens even more, proof that Grayson has the same bad feeling. They don't have a chance to say anything about it, however, before the man strides forward and grabs Damian by his other arm; yanking him away from Grayson and towards the big man.

Grayson shoots them a murderous glare, but doesn't come to Damian's aid as the big man tightens both of his hands on Damian's biceps. His pointer fingers press just under his shoulders, and he swears his pinkies wrap close to Damian's elbows.

"Go on," the talkative man says, jerking his head to the door, showing his rotting teeth in a grin. "Get the bitch."

Grayson shoots a look Damian's way, then nods. "Okay," he says placidly. "Okay." He turns his back and starts towards the door.

Then, the man looks at another in their group and nods his head. The man's cheeks rise like a Cheshire cat before he starts towards Grayson, raising a fist.

"Grayson! Look out!" Damian shouts. Grayson, for his part, reacts immediately. He ducks under the blow and side steps his attacker.

However, that's all Damian sees before the man that has him in his grasp changes position quite suddenly so that Damian is practically hanging in his grasp—an arm the size of a log wrapped around his neck. Damian's hands fly to the arm and he attempts to kick his feet for purchase. His air is already cut off, and he curses himself for getting in a situation like this.

He stills, however, when something cold and metal is pressed against his head by the man's free hand. Through blurry eyes and choking gasps, he notices Grayson has gone still too.

"I knew you were fishy," the man from before cackled. "Grayson? That your real name?"

Grayson glares, but doesn't move.

"Here's what's gonna happen, you're gon let us do whatever we want wit'cha, and maybe we'll let the kid live after."

And just like that, Grayson is at the receiving end of a savage blow to his jaw from another member of the group. Grayson stumbles and clutches his jaw, but he doesn't fight back even as another jumps in and throws their own punch. Damian can already see blood dripping down his cheek from a cut in the skin.

He's hit again, and he continues to not fight back. Damian knows he'll take the beating, even though he can easily take them down. He won't risk the gun pressed against Damian's head. He won't risk the arm wrapped so right around Damian's neck it feels like he's breathing through a coffee straw.

A particularly savage punch has Grayson falling to the floor, scraping his hands, elbows, and knees on the rough and suspiciously wet asphalt. Damian growls and digs his nails into the arms of his captor, but they tighten the grip threateningly and his struggles are forced to come to a stop.

Pathetic. Idiotic. Childish. This is Damian's fault. Every blow that hits Grayson's body as punches are replaced by kicks might as well be dealt by Damian himself.

He argues with Grayson. Calls him out on not acting how his father would. He calls him incompetent, insignificant, idiotic... but some time these past few weeks the bite he means to carry with those words have turned fond.

He... He likes Grayson. He's the first person to show Damian unconditional kindness... other than his own mother. While being stuck here with him rather than his own father had, at first, been miserable and annoying... it's turned out to be... fun. For the first time in his life, he almost feels like a normal kid with Grayson here to lead him along the way.

Damian wonders at night if that's what his mother intended. Why she hasn't taken him back yet.

He doesn't mind it. He likes the time that he spends with Grayson now, even if he would never admit it. And here he is, helpless and unarmed as Grayson is being beaten to a bloody pulp all because Damian couldn't listen to instructions and snuck out when he shouldn't have.

For a moment, pure terror fills Damian's veins that he's most likely going to witness the death of Grayson tonight. If he tries to fight his captor, he'll get a bullet in his brain. If Grayson decides to fight back, then Damian would die anyways. Grayson wouldn't do that. He would rather die himself.

Another blow hits Grayson's body, and he lays on the ground and groans, unmoving for a worrying few seconds.

Then, the bar door slams open and the woman from before runs out with fire in her dark eyes. No one has a chance to do anything before she kicks the main guy in the jaw, sending him down to the floor with more force than any woman... or man... should have.

Damian doesn't question it. The rest of them are distracted by her sudden entrance, and Damian uses that to his advantage. He throws his hands up and grabs at his captor's distracted face and claws at his eyes. The man yowls and drops Damian, leaving Damian completely free to make his own attack. He easily disarms him and jumps onto his back, wrapping his own arms around the man's neck and squeezing as tightly as he can.

It's all over in a matter of seconds. The man falls unconscious in Damian's grasp, and the woman finishes taking out the others.

She was in on this whole thing too, Damian realizes as she rushes towards Grayson's still form and grabs his arm.

Grayson blinking slowly at her through already bruising eyes and whispering "Donna..." is all the proof Damian needs to confirm his suspicion.

"I got you, boy wonder," Donna says fondly. She helps him to his feet and wraps his arm firmly around her shoulders, helping him stand. She looks at Damian. "You got a way to get us out of here, squirt? The cops are gonna be on their way any minute."

"What-" Damian starts, then pauses. Shame fills his gut. "What about the mission?"

"It's fine," Grayson says with a pained strain in his voice. "They're low in the chain. Won't be missed in prison. Can't give much away. I'll-" he cuts off to gasp as Donna shifts her hold on him. "I'll just try again later."

Damian nods, but the guilt doesn't leave. He looks away from Grayson and Donna to pull out his phone and request Pennyworth send the Batmobile to their position.

The entire way back to the manor is filled with tense silence, broken only by Grayson's hissed curses and groans as Donna helps give immediate first aid to the worst of the bruises and cuts.

Damian... he messed up. He disobeyed Richard and ruined the mission. This woman, Donna, is a better companion to Grayson than Damian ever was. Or will be. They get along. She's kind. She was trusted enough by Grayson to bring her in on his solo mission, and she clearly trusted him enough to go along with it and let herself be captured.

Grayson will never trust him as much as her. He's... He's fucked it all up. He won't want Damian around anymore. He'll want to send him back to the League, and if his mother and grandfather don't take him then his suit and the name of Robin must surely now be forfeit.

Drake will take back the suit, and Damian will forever be left behind by the man he thought... He hoped...

Sitting by his bedside after assisting Pennyworth in dressing Grayson's wounds... he mulls these thoughts over in his head. Grayson is fast asleep, and Donna has retreated upstairs for a shower and dinner by Pennyworth's insistence.

Then, as he's considering leaving so he's not the first thing Grayson sees when he wakes up, a hand grabs hold onto his.

"Don't blame yourself," Grayson whispers, blinking through his puffed up and exhausted eyes. Damian wonders how long he's been sitting here with his thoughts and when Grayson started to awaken without him noticing. "You have the same look in your eyes... That B always did..."

Heat flairs behind Damian's eyelids. He bursts. "But this is my fault. If I hadn't gone out- if I had listened-"

Suddenly, his hand is jerked, and Damian is dragged onto the cot and into Grayson's arms. He attempts to fight the hold, but Grayson holds tight despite his injuries.

"Mistakes happen," Grayson says, "they always do. I will never give up on you, Dames. No matter how many you make. Trust me on that."

He sounds so very much in pain, but he's relentless in his hold. All Damian can do is stop his struggling and lay in Grayson's grasp. His brain studies the words said to him, and his heart wants to believe him. Guilt pools to his throat and he opens his mouth to let it out before he can stop himself.

"I'm sorry," he chokes. He doesn't know when he started to return the hold Grayson had him in. His hands are bunched in the material of Grayson's shirt.

Grayson shushes him. "It's okay," he says. "What's done is done, and we've learned. We're okay. I got you."

And perhaps it's the moment of weakness, but Damian can't help but believe him.

#damianwayneweek2021 #damian wayne #dick grayson #robin #nightwing #dc comics #jin writes #fanfiction #violence tw #kidnapping tw #held at gunpoint #guns tw #im just in the mood for batman!dick and robin!damian angst this week huh?#hopefully donna being here made sense lmao

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thesunshinebunny · 3 years

Text

When the world falls apart, the only thing we can hold onto is ourselves (Part VII)

Series Master list

pairing: canon Eren Jaeger x reader

content: Angst, unstable relationship, breakup, smut/nswf+18, major character death, violence, blood (obviously), war (pretty obvious)

summary: War and hate. It’s what defined the world at this exact moment. You failed your comrades, and by failing them, you failed yourself. Your relationship is hanging by a thread and your enemies will not only be found on the other side of the sea, but also in the mind of the person you love the most. How will you take the reins in the face of so much destruction?

Chapter summary: Sometimes, to understand the present, it’s necessary to pay a visit to the past. While reader is in a deep sleep, their unconscious plays a trick on them by reminding the most important and catastrophic moments in their life.

Word Count: 9.1K

Year 847, a very hot and humid day.

First day of training in the 104° squad. Each of the hundreds of soldiers coming into the slaughterhouse gathered in lines, lined up, waiting for our first orders. Announcement of names and locations. Some serious who didn’t need an introduction, other clowns who didn’t take the training seriously. Instead, I...was waiting with an empty view towards the horizon, not seeing anything or anyone in particular.

First day, call and presentation; some came from cities, some from towns, but none from a filthy wealthy family of nobility, much less royalty. Most of us simple villagers, presented on a silver platter for the aristocracy, entering our graves on our own. Each one would have their reasons, some simpler than others, some more hypocritical than others, and others more selfish than all of us here.

First day, and there were already a couple on the ground and others being severely punished. Like the tall girl with a ponytail who had the brilliant idea to not only steal, but also cook a potato before training and eat it in the middle of line formation. A village girl, a hunter and faithful to her principles and culture; a girl who wasn’t ashamed to show her true colors on the first day, even if it gave her a punishment that would end up lasting for hours, until nightfall. An incredible example for the most stupid, but equally for the bravest. I think it was hearing where did she coming from that something inside me arose like a flower in the middle of spring, or maybe it was hearing her resound every minute around the training ground until the moon rose. I’m not very clear about it. Maybe I wanted to be nice to someone after a long time, and what better way to start with a person who was humiliated on the first day of what would be our next life.

I wasn’t quick enough to bring her something to eat when her punishment ended, a certain very short blonde beat me beforehand, but I was quick to save her a seat next to me the next night, while saving her a portion of bread. I assumed she would like it, and I wasn’t wrong. She devoured every last crumb along with her ration of dubiously sourced food on a metal plate. Hearing her eat with such enthusiasm brought a smile to my face, it reminded me of the little tadpole children who came and went in my town, asking for a piece of bread or an apple, even knowing that they had food at home. Those playful children who wandered through the small market, looking for some candy and returning disappointed at their doors when they hadn’t found any.

"I didn't hear yesterday where you came from"

Sasha, I think that's the name of the girl in front of me. Apparently she was talking when my mind wandered with nostalgia and melancholy. Her eyes were very fixed on mine, and as much as I looked away, I could still feel them penetrating my skull. I guess you can't dodge the past for long, right? At the very least, I tried to be as cautious as possible when giving my answer.

"I come from a village northeast of the wall Maria, far enough away from the wall to be warned of the fall before a titan reached our town"

She played with the poorly made metal spoon on a piece of carrot that came out of the poor soup, already cold, that this place delighted us for the second night in a row. I made me a mental note to go out hunting every now and then if I wanted to have a good meal and not end up anorexic and a failure.

“And what do you do in your village? In mine we are dedicated to hunting, but they’re taking away the land for the cattle” She took a huge bite of his bread, showing how angry she was. I couldn’t blame her, taking the land out of a hunting village was like taking away their essence, a part of their soul.

"We’re dedicated to raising horses and handicrafts" From our town came the fastest horses that the military police could ask for, some of them stayed for the field and keep the children busy.

Beautiful horses dedicated to the gambling of the nobility, others common for the plowing of the agricultural peoples. Horses dedicated to the race for the survey corps; what the government needed, we provided. It would be hypocritical of me to say now that the horse was my least favorite animal. It was not. For me they were the most beautiful, faithful and loyal creatures in this whole little world. My favorite animal without a doubt.

I wanted to talk about the various horses we managed to sell at a high price to the most authoritarian court on the Rose wall, but a noise from behind our table made my jaw drop.

A "Tsk" echoed throughout the dining room.

I turned my head, hoping to find an animal, or anything but a human like us. To my misfortune, I met the withering look of a brunette with bright green eyes, just as bright as those of the forest, and his hand holding the spoon tightly, as if my simple face angered him.

"Do you have a problem, Jaeger?" I remembered him from yesterday. Serious, tall, with a look that could kill you at any moment. Decisive and lethal. At the same time conceited and childish. He had won the ears and admiration of the majority here with well-used words and a touch of drama.

"Yes, I have a problem" his hand let the spoon escape on the plate, causing some drops to fly in all directions "I have a problem with people like you"

He got up from his seat, walking slowly but steadily toward my table, planting himself in front of me. The lap dog as a friend of his following behind him with a decomposed face, one hand half raised, perhaps to stop him if necessary. But let's face it, of the two, Eren was the one with the most strength, it was obvious to the naked eye.

"And what is that due to? Or do you wait for me to get into your little head and find some clue that can help me understand the cockroach you have for a brain?" At no time did I get up, I wasn’t going to lower myself to the same situation as him.

Half of my body had my back to him, so I was looking at him over the shoulder. He may not have liked that, ‘cause he immediately grabbed my shoulder and turned me around, waiting for me to look him in the eye.

"People like you, who come from villages far from the cities, who don’t know the real danger, are a problem" He looked so angry, angry with the world perhaps? I couldn't find an answer to that anger, nor the source of his feelings. But what I did know, was that he wasn't going to let me be trampled on by a fool who knew the world simply by seeing a titan within his short life.

"Excuse me, but you realize that many here come from villages far from the big cities and only very few saw a titan with their own eyes" And it was those same people who began to get up and look at him with bad eyes. The same ones who looked at him with wonder, as if he were an angel fallen from heaven to bring them the news of the world.

I fervently removed his hand from my shoulder and deigned to stand up, trying to gain some ground in this pathetic discussion. I wasn't going to raise my voice like I assumed the boy in front of me was going to do it at any moment, so my body did it instead.

"I don't understand what your complaints are about, but please, oh great Eren, the one who saw a titan bigger than the wall, explain to me" I could notice how his other friend was approaching towards his back, looking at me with caution. Now, of the group of three, with her I had to be the most careful.

"Are you making fun of me?" he took a dangerous step towards me.

“’course not” ‘Course yes, but I wasn't going to say it openly.

"People who don’t see the enemy in the face think they can come out of the walls to face it" did my ears hear that correctly? I looked at him as if a third eye had popped out on his forehead.

"Not having seen a titan in my short life doesn’t mean that I cannot go out to fight them"

"And yet you have no fucking idea what you're up against" the conversation was getting more and more heated, his feet were getting closer to mine and I could lightly feel his breath on my skin.

"That doesn't mean you can come and mistreat me" I instantly threw myself back, but ran into the legs of the table. Sasha's hand rested on my shoulder, unable to encourage me with words, but enough emotionally.

"Fucking villagers" he took a step back, turning on his heel and looking, without seeing, or so it seemed, the crowd around him "you don't know what it’s to see a relative of yours being eaten in front of your eyes!"

Ah, that's where so much hatred for the world came from. But I wasn’t his target. He must express his emotions, his anger, towards a common enemy, not towards a comrade who was going to help him in battle. Taking it with me wasn’t going to help him at all, and the fact I was from a small village didn’t mean I was naive and deserved the anger of the citizens. "I'm sorry that happened to you-"

"My mom was eaten in front of my eyes!"

"I'm sorry that happened to your mom! And I'm very sorry that you had to see it with your own eyes, but taking it out on me is not going to help you ”I pushed him back with my words, unfortunately they were not enough to stop his viper tongue.

"You can't know what it feels like to lose your mother like that" he turned his back on me, and before turning to his blond friend, he turned his head over his shoulder, looking at me again with contempt. "Go back to your village with your mommy and cries on her lap for being incapable of shit"

His comment blew me away.

He had left my mind blank and the only thing I managed to do was throw myself back, and sit down heavily on the hard wooden bench. My eyes stared into nothingness, unable to observe the multitude of eyes that settled on me with sadness, some with regret and support. Sasha sat down next to me on the left, while on the right a figure that I didn’t recognize crouched down to look me in the face. All I could make out of him, or her, were those big round blue eyes. A blue that reminded me of the rivers that flowed gracefully near my town. The same water that landed on a larger lake or river, and… perhaps, on the same sea.

"Hey, Eren-" I heard someone yell. From the tone of their voice I thought I distinguish Jean's annoyance.

I didn't have a second to reflect on what I was doing and before I could blink, a plate full of food was flying in the direction of the two boys, impacting on the wooden wall and scattering the pieces of vegetables on the floor and the people who unfortunately was close.

The two boys turned to see where the plate had come from, finding my hand half raised and smeared on the thumb of the cold soup. My body was euphoric, my breath hitched and my chest rose and fell quickly.

"You ... you don't know shit about me, or my family, or my people" I started slowly what would be the best speech I would have given in my 13 years, a speech that would bring me problems, as well as friends. “I’m so sorry about your mother, but in the same way, she was devoured by an enemy of which we still do not know exactly"

I came around the table and approached the brunette, meeting his friend halfway through. Without stopping, I hit her shoulder with mine, pushing my way over her.

"While mine was shot by the people who had to protect her" now my body was a few inches from him, taking Jean away from his side "my mother was killed for the simple fact of wanting to see the sea"

His blond friend, who hadn't been separated from him at any time, widened his eyes, even more than the person who bent down to comfort me. His eyes stared at me in amazement before turning to understanding and sadness.

"Judging by your friend's expression, he understand what I'm talking about" There was little space for me to move calmly, so I chose to get closer and closer to Eren, keeping my face a few inches from his. Even with the slight difference in height, I could manage to have an aura of warning and seriousness.

I raised my hand to his forehead slowly, preventing the girl from earlier from pouncing on me thinking I was going to hit him.

"The military police took her out of my house, placed her to the center of the village and with a pistol in the middle of her forehead" I closed my hand except for two fingers, simulating the muzzle of the rifle, and placed them in the same place as they did it with my mother "they shot her in front of her little child"

I detached my fingers from his forehead and with a "bang" I simulated the same shot that, to this day, continues to haunt me in dreams, after 6 years. My eyes observed his expression, the color had disappeared from his face, he was so pale that it seemed he was going to faint at any moment. There was no longer a trace of his anger towards me or towards the titans; An immature child had been left in front of me, from whom they had taken food for not knowing how to appreciate it.

I walked away carefully, noticing the trembling in my body, in my legs, and took small steps towards the door, leaving everyone who wanted to give me their condolences and emotional support behind.

"You are lucky that your mother was eaten by a spice stranger to her, mine didn’t have the same fate"

*** Weeks passed from that terrible night. The golden trio hadn't deigned to approach me, and for my part I longed for it to stay that way for the next three years. I didn't want people like Eren or his friends to get involved with me, I preferred the company of people like Sasha and Marco, Jean and Connie, as empty-headed as they were. I preferred to spend my free afternoons practicing archery, preventing some stupid from passing through the shooting range or next to the bullseye from getting a head shot.

"Here, I fixed your glove, now you are supposed to be able to put your thumb in without it opening" Marco had his hand extended, grabbing a leather glove, which I’d found in the storage bag of the training set.

The leaders had been very understanding when explaining the training I wanted to follow as free time. Although no faction was going to need a bow and arrow for sure, due to its inefficiency, I had given my point of view that it would end up being useful if an expedition needed more days than predicted and more food and provisions were needed, a bow was going to be of great help when hunting.

"Thanks Marco, you are an angel in this place" I proceeded to put on the worn glove and test its elasticity with the arrow and the bowstring.

"See you at night" and with that, the freckled man marked himself towards the canteen, greeting Jean in the distance who was waiting for him at the door.

The shooting area was not far from the entire training ground, close enough to observe everyone who came and went on the field, everyone who wandered without any direction or aim, and everyone who wanted to train. As well as being close enough to the training area with the movement equipment, equipment that was being used a lot recently by many colleagues in need of balance. One of them turning out to be the annoying brunette with bright green eyes, who was walking very dangerously with his friends on the target at the time I was about to release the arrow.

The small deadly weapon shot out and ended up hitting the red dot in the middle, grazing Eren's neck. He put a hand on his skin and when he saw the arrow stuck on the straw object he turned to look at me angrily.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing? That almost hit me in the neck "

"If you saw where you walking you would realize you’re in the shooting zone, if an arrow hits you it’s not my fault" I yelled at him from a distance, preparing a new arrow to launch.

When I saw him take a couple of steps towards me, I stretched the arrow back as a warning, I wasn’t going to laid on a rose’s field while he went back to being a fucking asshole. Armin, I knew his name in these weeks when listening to a conversation he’d with another person, he grabbed his arm while Mikasa put herself as a shield. They both took him away from the target and I was able to shoot the arrow without taking my eyes off them.

I followed them until they positioned themselves on one of the balancing machines, helping Eren onto the equipment. I was about to accommodate a third arrow when I heard a scream coming from his direction. My head spun at the same speed an owl would, given countless hours of practice in the woods, and I watched the last second of Eren's fall, watching in broad daylight as his head hit the stone floor. The blow could be heard from a distance, even where I was located I could hear it as if it’s next to me.

Seeing him lying swaying on the floor, half hanging from the equipment made me burst out laughing. I couldn't stop the laughter from coming out of my mouth seeing him in such bad shape. He was going to have a safe bump and maybe some neurons would end up rearranged. My laughter didn’t go unnoticed, the commander Sheith passed on his way to the shooting area and stood in front of me, looking at me with that serious, expressionless gaze.

"Cadet (Y/S)!" I settled myself as best I could, putting the bow to one side and the arrow on the back sleeve before standing firmly "help young Jaeger heal his wound"

I was puzzled and my face reflected it.

"But, sir, why me?" I begged with my words to let me go, or at least give me a couple of hours of punishment, whatever it was before starting a conversation with that selfish man, much less heal his wound.

"Are you arguing with me, cadet?"

Every movement or prayer that I could make to try to accomplish my task vanished like a leaf in the wind. I lowered my head, avoiding his frivolous gaze and waited for him to leave, snorting. I reluctantly put down the bow and arrow sleeve next to a target and headed towards the three of them, Armin and Mikasa were trying to lift Eren off the floor as they took the equipment off his hips.

"Come on, I have to heal your wound" I didn’t stop to greet them, or to explain the situation. In the same way that I approached, I went towards the canteen, without looking back.

On the short drive I overheard Armin asking about my rare kindness, to which I replied dryly that if it weren't for the commander, I'd be breaking my asshole on the floor by laughing. We walked and walked, me in front and the other two physically stable, keeping the dark-haired boy as best they could, lifting his head so that he wouldn't hit himself again. Upon reaching the canteen stairs I yelled "Sasha, I need a bucket of cold water and a washcloth!"

I opened the door for them and pointed to a table near the kitchen door so they could seat Eren. I warned them to keep his head steady, to keep him from going forward or backward, and to keep him awake at all times.

"I didn't know you knew so much about medicine" Armin pointed out when Sasha came out with the bucket of water and a cloth floating in it.

I let out a slight "hmm" before positioning myself behind Eren, squeezing the hands of the other two and allowing them to let me do my job. I ran his hair back, trying to locate the wound and notice any cuts. Finding none, I proceeded to feel the area, finding the slight bump on the upper side of the forehead. I down the cloth in the cold water, letting it soak, and placed it on his head. The water was so, so cold, it had even made me shivered, but for some reason, Eren didn't seem to be fazed at all.

I didn’t give it much importance and I passed the cloth over the bump, waiting a few seconds for it to deflate a little before going through the sides, preventing the area from becoming inflamed as well. I soaked the cloth again and laid it on the side of his forehead, indicating to Armin to press down and not move his hand while I looked for a handkerchief or some bandage to cover the blow. In the same way, I explained to Mikasa to keep watching Eren, to talk to him, even if he wasn't waiting for an answer, to keep him awake for fear of having an accident in his brain.

I found what looked like a used bandage, quite disgusting for my taste, but I wasn’t going to take much longer of my time for "patient" who didn’t deserve my treatises. I stretched the bandage as far as I could over his head, giving it two full turns before pinning it around the back of his head.

"Try to find a better bandage for the blow" I washed my hands with cold water, hoping to get rid of all the irritation the situation had caused.

"Thank you" Armin sounded really grateful, with a hint of ... sympathy perhaps? With my hands clean, I grabbed the bucket and started to put it back in the kitchen when the blonde asked me again "where did you learn all this?"

I sighed not once, but twice, the kitchen door was open and I was about to enter when I threw a look over my shoulder "everything I know, I learned from my mother's books"

And with that I closed the door behind me a second time to the golden trio.

***

Year 850, a beautiful spring night.

The night before our graduation. A hectic night. Between the well-deserved nutritious food, meat and bread that we have longed for the past three years, and the shouts of encouragement for each of us who were present that night, a great party was put together. Many people defected and others didn’t have the ability to move on. Many were frustrated when they fell short of the top ten, fearing they would be sent to the survey corps, others claimingthey had contacts in the military police and had an assured position. Others fought for their point of view before such faction; and with others I mean the same suicidal brunette. Eren, finishing 5th out of the top ten, undoubtedly deigned to throw me in my face.

"Three years and I'm still better than you, your little village tactics were useless" he smiled wickedly and his eyes showed that characteristic glow when he won a fight. Although there wasn’t a fight here, therefore, there was nothing to be gained.

"Congratulations Eren" I turned around without waiting for an answer and walked briskly towards Marco and Jean, they were both heading towards the boys cabin and I followed them to the entrance, leaving a fuzzy Eren behind.

Now, tonight, with the years of training in the past, it was time to rest, have a night of peace before the real deal began. I never thought it would arrive the next morning.

From my position, far from the main entrance to the Trost district, a thunder crashed into the ground, followed by hot smoke covering our feet. The famous colossal titan stood imposing on the side of the wall, watching my companions who were a few meters from him. From where I was standing, I could see his arm rise and run the guns and the others, burning and blinding them with its smoke.

An calvary that started very early and had no intention of ending soon. Death and dismemberment in every corner, blood flying through the air, comrades being eaten. At each step we take, each turn a building took to dodge a Titan or go after one to kill it, a comrade fell in battle; with each step I took, it was one step closer to my own death. But, call it a miracle, call it divine grace, or simple luck, I managed to reach a roof of one of the many houses destroyed by the attack. From the roof, I could see the disaster more clearly, and I could examine my own disaster with great concern.

The pants were torn in the knee area, the tips of my boots brushed my bare skin and apparently bruised from some friction. I had a blood stain in the abdomen area, apparently from a person who was eaten near me and I didn’t have the dignity to see it. I didn’t have the strength or the courage to unbutton my shirt to see the disaster that surely my body had taken in the hours we were surviving in the city. I had enough of the bruises and cuts on my hands and cheeks thanks to some small rocks flying through the air from the impacts; I didn't need to see if my ribs were in place.

In the distance, perhaps three, four houses in from where I was, were a few comrades sitting on the rooftops of another house. It seemed a few had survived and came together to rest, there weren't many titans in sight and the few there were were wandering around without looking around. Those idiots gave me the chance to jump houses, without looking down. If I looked down I would’ve see the cobblestone streets stained red, I would’ve see limbs scattered right and left. I had a goal in mind and I wasn’t going to lose focus on the death around us.

I landed on the fireplace, hitting both knees when landing, I was running out of gas and it showed. The movement wasn’t being so fluid anymore. I scrambled down the stone wall of the fireplace, landing right next to Armin. My movement gear hit his, jerking my hips and torso on impact, nearly knocking me off the roof. Armin didn't flinch, he was just looking at the tiles, but given his expression, I think he wasn't looking at anything at all. He was just preparing to stare and lose himself in the terrors of his mind.

"Armin, what happened? Ar you alright?" stupid questions. Obviously he wasn’t alright, it was reflected in his empty and dark eyes, but my mind couldn’t process correctly.

It was in automatic mode, only thinking about survival, not the correct questions for each of those who were spread out on two rooftops. Of the many who had graduated, we were reduced to two dozen, maybe a little more without counting those who were in that huge building with the gas parts. Others may have taken refuge in a house, waiting for the right moment to move and reach us. But there was little hope, even if I didn’t say it out loud, unconsciously I knew there wasn’t much to do with the people who were not among us, because after all that was exactly what was happening ... they were not with us, they weren’t in the land of the living.

How pessimistic my thinking, right? I wasn’t wrong at all.

"Armin, where is Eren?" want to know the worst?, I already knew the answer before Armin could lift his head and scream the terrible news with his lungs.

In the end, the boy who so wanted to fight the world, succumbed to the terrors of him.

But what had impacted the most was that, minutes after hearing that news, minutes after arriving at the building for gas supplements and saving the comrades who had barricaded themselves, minutes after being saved by that fighting titan, we saw the same Eren, the same brunet with bright green eyes, appear. Alive.

The surprise we all get when we see him emerge from the nape of that eccentric titan. He was fine, his skin pink and hot from the smoke of the decaying body from his titan. His titan? There was no time to understand the situation. If that, how to understand it? We saw him resurface, like a phoenix, among the ashes of a dying body, fully alive. He had all of his limbs, even the ones that had been eaten; I could see the limits of his pants and the sleeve of his shirt torn, with perfect and huge bite marks.

I stood to the side watching the scene, Armin and Mikasa crying uncontrollably when they saw his heart beat. Scientifically and medically that was impossible. Technically speaking, nothing we were witnessing was possible; And yet there was the suicidal bastard, breathing normally. His eyes closed, his lashes drooping over his lids and his hands being held by his childhood friends. Jean couldn't believe the scene before his eyes, even the other trio was hesitant to say anything, with serious faces and completely stiff eyes at Eren. Each and every one of the reactions present entered what would be a normal reaction, missing one who wanted to kill him immediately.

And I think I rushed a couple of minutes.

***

Days after the expedition to the giant tree forest.

With Annie crystallized and guarded underground, a bit of tranquility arose within the walls; a calm that only attributed to the survey corps. Citizens panicked, not understanding, not comprehending even ten percent of what the latest information was being advertised in newspapers and billboards. The general did everything possible to give us time to resupply and rest from such a hard fight. The patrol had been divided in two, and I had remained as Jean's auxiliary escort, the poor man wanted to vomit all the trip when he had to suffer the terrible order of disguising himself as Eren.

And when the time for action came, we were both prepared to assist Eren in his titan form. I wasn’t still used to seeing him at a height of more than 15 meters, but his characteristics were still there: eyes, now huge, green and shiny, as if that shine never went away, no matter how violent or dark the situation turned upside down, and his dark haired, he looked silkier and smoother in this way that the originally he modeled.

Now we where here, Armin, Mikasa, Jean and I watching him and examining his vital signs. He had fallen into a coma for the second time. I couldn't blame him, I guess controlling a titan of that caliber used up a lot of physical energy, let alone the psychological, but to be honest… mental health had already leaked out the window.Each of us were standing in a corner of the room, sometimes Armin wandered between the door and the window, sitting close to his friend on the bed when he couldn't take it anymore from the anguish. Mikasa always sat next to him, holding his hand at all times, faithfully waiting for him to open his eyes. For my part, I was watching the sun set outside the window, as the sunset gave us its warm rays and prepared us for the cold night.

Every once in a while, whenever I heard a snort or movement coming from the bed, I would turn my head and come closer to feel his breathing. He was stable, and showed no signs of any disturbance. He was completely healthy, except that he was absolutely tired. Like all of us.

There was a couple of knocks on the door, pulling all of us out of trance. Jean and Armin were being needed to give testimony in front a small assembly, before the leaders continued speaking with Commander Erwin.

Silence reigned in the room. Mikasa was still willing to maintain her position in the chair, even if the sleep weakened her with each passing minute. I could see how her eyes were closing and her head fell from fatigue, it was obvious that she needed some rest. I put my hand on her shoulder, pulling the scarf out of her hands and trying to lift her up at the same time.

"Come on, you're very tired, you must get some sleep" I led her to a sofa that was doubtfully placed on the other side of the room. Normally our rooms were only furnished with a couple of beds, a desk and a closet, ah... and a paltry window. We couldn't bother with expensive decorations or furniture like a sofa. Above all, when we didn’t receive a decent salary.

"But Eren ..." I laid her on the few cushions, not very comfortable, brown and beige, that matched the small room. When her head touched the doubtful softness of the pillows her eyes closed completely and her breathing became calm, it was a matter of seconds before she fell completely asleep.

"I'm going to take care of him, you rest" I adjusted her hair before noticing she had entered the realm of dreams. Apparently my words were enough to give her that peace of mind to go to sleep.

I knelt to remove her boots and set her feet on the lap of the sofa. Notice her legs stained with dirt, I'd bet she'd have a couple of bruises around her knees and ankles, maybe even her feet. My body was moving heavily as I searched for a blanket among the few scraps of cloth lying in the closet. In the end, I ended up finding one a bit small for her body, but it perfectly covered her torso and stomach, that way she wouldn't take cold while she was in her defenseless state.

I wanted to look out the window again, but there was nothing to observe that I hadn’t seen before, a sad and dull orange sky. I settled into the chair, feeling that I was usurping Mikasa's place for some strange reason, and I kept analyzing the young man lying on the bed. His hair was matted and a bit dirty, a shower every now and then wouldn't hurt, although he smelled conveniently well, like freshly cut wood or dry grass. A scent that, while I was destined to smell more than necessary thanks to the expeditions, I felt no discomfort smelling it on Eren. It fit him very well indeed. I might even get used to being around him if it meant smelling such a sweet scent.

Seconds that seemed like minutes, and minutes that seemed like hours. Time seemed to play against me and I felt like my body began to weigh me more and more, and more, until I fell forward and lay my face on the hard mattress and the soft fabric of the sheet. Second-rate cotton, if you would let me say so, but it did the job. It was comfortable, too comfortable, enough to let me rest for a moment and close my eyes, making time flow more quickly.

I felt a hand gently rest on my head, moving and caressing me with a tenderness I hadn't felt in years. I opened my eyes immediately expecting to find my father in front of my eyes, but instead, I spotted a still asleep Eren, scratching himself and trying to wipe the sleep out of his eyes.

I pulled his hand out of my head quickly, but without being rude, and laid them on the bed. I rubbed my eyes and gave him a half smile "Good morning sleeping beauty"

It took a few seconds for his eyes to get used to the little light that filtered through the window and when they opened they surveyed the entire room, still drowsy.

"Where is Mikasa? Armin? " he coughed after feeling a little hawking in his throat.

I stretched out on the chair, accommodating the bones of my back and immediately moved to the side, letting him see a sleeping Mikasa, comfortable and warm under a blanket. Eren inspected her, perhaps trying to find any signs of injury or complaints, but finding none he turned his gaze from her to me.

"Mikasa is asleep" I settled back on the chair, this time stretching forward a bit and resting my elbows on the bed, holding my head on my hands "Armin and Jean had to go to give their testimony for the paperwork"

Ere didn't say anything, he just nodded and gave me a brief "hmm" before looking out the window. "How do you feel?" was the last thing I said before the room fell silent again and neither he nor I deigned to say anything else.

Years of hating each other weren't going to go away, just like that. It was going to be a long road now that we were in a much worse mess than when we were 13 years old. But at least, we could talk to each other without the need to jump on each other's jugular, that's progress, right?

***

Why couldn't this bastard have a little sense of preserving of his life? Why wasn't he a little more careful, and since we are, a little more common sense? Why couldn't he stay calm for a few seconds, analyze the situation and act according to his surroundings?

Now we had to do a search party to find the damned "last hope of mankind". Galloping as fast as the horses would allow us, avoiding on all sides dozens of titans, even when one fell, five more came out. It was an order that had become more and more dangerous. And to make matters worse, having to be behind two of the most dangerous titans we could have encountered was a suicide mission and most of us knew it. We were giving it our all for an idiot, who I don't think he knew the value of the lives that were being lost in battle.

Sighted in the distance, ranks breaking and each one trying to survive while we tried to have enough time to rescue him from the armored titan, large numbers of soldiers were being eaten or crushed. You know the terror I had in my eyes to see Captain Erwin being bitten on the arm and dragged towards God knows where? If a great man like him could be defeated so easily in the blink of an eye, what was in store for us? What was in store for me?

I kept galloping, begging Phillip to keep going as fast as he could, that he never stop and be careful of everything in his path. I was so scared that I didn't know exactly to who I was saying it, the horse or myself. For sure, I knew the horse wouldn’t understand me perfectly, but he was the only thing that I could grab to at that moment, the only one that could save me.

Both left and right, titans ran everywhere, the boys had managed to reach the battleship while the others did what they could to give them time, seeing Ymir was also a sight worthy of admiration if it wasn’t because I was givind my life at this moment. And surely she was helping the blonde of "girlfriend" instead of us.

In that sway between giant bodies and tiny soldiers, the ground rumbled, the earth fell away, even trees fell at our feet. When trying to reach Mikasa before she fell, a titan came out of nowhere in front of me, trying to dodge it would be a feat, especially when he had his immense mouth pointing almost completely in my direction. I will never be able to thank the soldier who cut his neck, for seconds later to be grabbed by another titan and break his spine in such a grip. With the body decomposing and the other titan out of focus, I was able to move on, circling the smoking mass, ready to support Mikasa when another mass fell very close to me, causing the horse to jump from the force of the impact. In that second of distraction I turned my head to look at what had fallen, the ground began to crack under Phillip's legs and it only took a footfall from the armor titan to completely break apart and pieces of earth and stone came out, shotting everywhere.

As I turned my head back forward, I saw clearly how a stone flew directly towards my head. Call it reflections, call it having a guardian angel on my shoulders, but I was able to move my head in time, causing the stone to impact the gap between my shoulder and neck. I shot backward, hitting my head against the hard ground. I felt my shoulder dislocate and I noticed how by leaps and bounds the shirt, previously white, was staining with blood, as well as the jacket and the floor. My head was probably bleeding from the back as well, but the pain in my shoulder kept me from focusing on anything else. It was impossible to move it, I tried to scream for help, but my words stuck in my throat, and even if I had been able to scream, it would have been overshadowed by the hundreds more screams that were begging for help. The grass around me felt a bit comforting, like a cold hug in the last minutes of life. Body pain prevented me from reacting to the sight of a five-meter titan approaching where I was lying. Tears began to flow, falling down my cheeks; I wanted to scream, say my last goodbye, but I was so petrified that I just closed my eyes.

If I was going to die, I would rather die without seeing the horrible face of that damned titan. I preferred to have the image of my family in mind one last time. The ground began to rumble, I thought more titans were going to come for me, that I was going to be smashed into pieces, but the longer it took to feel the huge hand or a pair of teeth, I opened my eyes, finding myself, not a pack of hungry titans, but with the clear evening sky.

I raised my head and to my surprise, a bizarre surprise, all the titans that were chasing us at the time, were now going towards one of the highest. I couldn't understand what was happening, I looked around trying to find someone, to see if someone else was seeing the same thing as me. In the distance I found Armin holding a figure, I couldn't quite see who, trying to breathe normally and stand up. I tried calling out to him, but my vision started to blur and it made me dizzy from trying to lift my head even higher. I brought my hand to my head and confirmed the blood that flowed behind it, I was completely soaked in my own blood and at any moment I would end up fainting if I didn't treat my wounds.

The grinding of a horse brought me back to a state of consciousness, Phillip was back next to me and he lowered his head towards my good shoulder, pushing it up and lifting me little by little. Standing back on both feet, I leaned on his stomach and in an attempt to walk towards Armin I heard Eren's terrified scream in the distance.

Both he and Mikasa were looking at the scene without understanding anything at all, and what bothered me the most was that those stupid were still sitting on the ground, without any intention of moving. As I could, I got on the horse's lap, lying on my stomach, both arms hanging at the side, and I told him to run as fast as possible towards the two figures in the most dangerous area that could be at that moment.

"Stop looking and start moving!" I yelled at them a few feet away. They both turned their heads in my direction, wanting to say something, but only managed to gasp a few times before I arrived.

I grabbed the collar of Eren's shirt and with what little strength I had left, I lifted him off the ground "NO TIME TO TALK, LET'S GO"

Seeing Mikasa being picked up by Eren and placed on his back, I indicated to Phillip to leave the area, to try to get to safety, along with the other soldiers. At our side ran the couple of stupid who almost devoured, wondering what had happened. Their words sounded more and more distant and the ride put me in a calm trance until I was unconscious.

***

Year 851, a beautiful summer day to go horseback riding without the hassle of a titan in the area. At the same time, a beautiful day to visit the forgotten and destroyed towns.

We took our time, observing the landscape. Trees that had fallen and left their tracks on the ground and on the trunk were beginning to show traces of vegetation in their wood. The grass crushed by large feet was beginning to heal and new shoots were coming to the surface, some flower buds could also be seen. The few stone paths were smashed, small cobblestones were smashed, and there was no possibility of repair unless they were remade. Today was the day; the day it was my village's turn to be toured. We leave early to the northwest, guiding us along the river, me in the lead. The night before I hadn’t been able to sleep, to close an eye, I was nervous, very nervous, I couldn’t even eat anything for breakfast. After four years, I returned to my home, or what was left of it.

Endless nights I dreamed of returning to my small village, touring the oldest houses and greeting its inhabitants, seeing the children run, now older, and helping them take an apple from the market. I dreamed of reassembling one of our horses, of stroking and caressing them, earning me one, perhaps two licks to the face. But what I most dreamed of was to see my father's face again, to see his eyes full of dark circles and sadness at having lost his wife, the woman he loved the most in the whole world; I wanted to hold hid hands again, see them splintered after carving a piece of wood and turning it into a beautiful work of art. I wanted to lie down by the communal fire, hear stories from the elderly, shameful stories, and love stories. I wanted to be able to repeat my childhood years, to see my mother one last time, to be able to say goodbye properly.

I wished my village had been intact, but at the entrance my heart shattered. There were no standing houses in sight, all had sagging roofs, broken windows, and dried blood marks from years painting the walls.

I got off the horse looking at the damage and I was leading him forward by the mooring. Slowly, being careful not to trip over any stone, I entered the town more and more, seeing the withered flowers and their dried petals lying on the floor. Children's cloth toys, a odd wooden horse broken in half. Some walls were burned, others full of holes, the clothes hanging outside the houses torn into pieces, the stable reduced to nothing. The center, where the market normally took place, full of rubble and garbage, on the left a path of dried blood, on the right as well. I approached a stall that had not been completed, a fruit and vegetable stall, now reduced to nothingness itself. I picked up the chunk of splintered wood and found underneath what scared me the most. An arm.

I didn't know who it was exactly, the clothes were almost the same for everyone, but I assumed it was a man's; It was in the process of decomposition, pieces of meat were half detached. Beside him, a porcelain doll broken on its head, its brown curls discarded, and only dirt and fiber remained. I picked it up with both hands and kept walking in the direction… in which direction? I couldn’t tell. Only my body was on autopilot looking around me for a sign, the slightest hope that someone had survived. But one look at the stables from the beginning was the only thing that put my hopes in the trash: there were pieces of horses lying all over the ground. Not even our pride had survived. My feet stopped walking, dragging on the ground, and stopped in front of the house that saddened me the most. Mine.

Of all, this was the one in the best condition, part of the roof had fallen to the side, not on the house, and a hole led directly to the living room. The walls were completely burned, not from the destruction of a horde of titans, no. Those burns were from years before, produced by the military police. Seeing that wreck brought me the vile memory of the day of her execution. The people were scared, they implored not to kill her, but those brutes turned a deaf ear and executed her without mercy. My mother was a very dear woman to everyone and no one denied her dreams of leaving the walls, my father loved her more than anyone ... but that love of his was not enough to save her.

"(Y / N)?" I heard Eren's voice behind me.

His voice echoed in my ears, but I couldn't fully register it, I was just looking straight ahead, towards the hole in my house, looking from the outside for fear of entering. "These were the borders of my life"

I took a step forward, then another, and then another, until I collided with the first stones of the house. From that place I could see how the fire from a small oil lamp had fallen on the floor and burned part of my father's favorite armchair. I took another step, fully entering what was left of my old home. I ran my hand over the dry, scratchy fabric, dust had collected over the weeks, maybe years. Given how advanced the bloodstains were, I couldn't exactly calculate the time that had elapsed. In front of the chair was still a small desk full of sheets, most of them ruined by rubble, but some survived. Some of these had broken tips, other were left with black spots, and others were flawless, as if they had been made yesterday. Beautiful drawings of people, others of nature, others of birds or city buildings.

I kept looking for more sheets, running those that were hopelessly damaged, and under my foot I came across a paper somewhat harder and thicker than the others, even framed. The glass was broken but it revealed perfectly a small family, a man, his wife and their child. "In this dusty and destroy little house, where an artist love his wife"

I took the drawing with me, holding it tight with both hands, until I reached the only standing door in the house. The door leading to the master bedroom. I stood there for a couple of seconds, wondering if it was right for my sanity, if it was right for my conscience to open it up and find whatever was on the other side. I inhaled and exhaled a couple of times before sliding the door open. Next to the bed, on the side where my mother used to sleep, was my father's top. I wasn't brave enough to turn around and see his face. I closed my eyes when I saw the scene and left what was left of the facade with my head lowered. "The house of my childhood is gone"

***

A couple of days after hitting the ocean.

We had settled next to the shore. Jean, Sasha and Connie were playing with the small waves that were breaking in the sand, Armin was inspecting small seashells and Mikasa was dedicated to dipping her feet in the cold water. We had made a small fire to cover ourselves from the cold of the coming night. Eren and I were in front of that same fire. He watched as the small sparks flew over the small sea of flames until they exploded and died in the blink of an eye. Some fell into the sand before exploding, others continued to rise until they rose higher and became part of the beginning of the starry sky.

My feet were barefoot in the sand, letting the little grains get between my toes and tickle every time I twisted them. I dropped my head on Eren's shoulder, giving me the chance to close my eyes and reopen them after a few seconds, admiring the sea towards the horizon.

After so many calamities, after so many deaths and losses, a moment of quiet was more than necessary. Maybe being this close to the bright green-eyed brunette wasn't so bad after all.

I could get used to this.

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fanficimagery · 4 years

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A Fangy Fetish

Imagine finally coming home to your family, only to realize there's something other about your little brother and his friends. But that's okay because you're not exactly the same as you were when you first left either. It's a surprising change, but one you're more than okay with after meeting Peter Hale.

Trigger Warnings: Brief conversation about death, an abusive relationship and a brief scene of spiking one's drink. Author’s Note: Pls don’t ask about the title. I don’t know what the fuck I was thinking XD

Passing up the welcome sign to Beacon Hills should fill you with glee since it's been forever that you've seen your mom and brother, but it merely makes you squirm in your seat since there was a good reason you had stayed away in the first place. And now- now you're meeting with them for the first time since you've changed and you're not sure how it should make you feel.

Your mom hasn't moved from your childhood home and as far as you knew your brother didn't have plans to move out until he had completed vet school, so it's not too hard to track them down. There's no vehicle in the driveway, but the opened curtains to the front windows showcase flickering lights from a TV being cast against the wall. Then cutting the engine, you tuck your hair behind your left ear and angle your ear towards the house to listen. After zoning out various noises, you can hear a TV show playing and your mother's familiar voice muttering obscenities when she sees something she doesn't agree with. There's no other voices or heartbeats so you figure your brother must be out.

Exhaling a nervous sigh, you pull down the visor and check your reflection in the small mirror being lit up by two small lights on either side of it. Then after making sure there's nothing on your face or at the corner of your eyes and mouth, you push the visor back up and then make your way out of the car. Walking up the steps to the front path and then the front path to the house porch, you nervously close the distance to the front door. You hesitate only a second before pressing the doorbell and then step back as you hear your mother pause her show and get up to see who it is.

The door opens and you can't help but smile when you see realization set in and Melissa McCall's eyes widen. "Y/N?"

"Hey, mom."

"Oh my god. Sweetheart!" She closes the distance between the two of you, arms wrapping tightly around you as you laugh and return her embrace. "Why didn't you tell me you were coming?"

"It was a split second decision," you tell her, letting her pull back and look you up and down to make sure you're really there. "Then I figured a surprise was in order."

She practically beams. "Come on. Come in," she says. "Oh I can't wait until Scott gets home. He's going to be so happy."

"Yeah, I can't wait to see Scotty either. It's been way too long."

Following your mom, you warily eye the doorway before stepping inside and the various scents of your childhood home make your chest ache with memories you had pushed to the back of your mind. Everything still smells familiar, even if there is a new underlying scent that makes you a little anxious and nose twitch.

"So what have you been up to?" She asks. The two of you settle in the living room and she's quick to turn off the TV in order to give you her full attention. "Catch me up."

"Well," you nervously chuckle, "there's not much to tell. School and work have kept me busy, and then there was this guy-"

"A boy?!" She gasps. "Tell me more."

"For a year," you tell her, your smile faltering. "I was with him for a year when I finally realized our relationship wasn't exactly healthy. The break was pretty amicable, but my trust in him was completely broken."

Melissa's mood immediately drops. "Oh sweetheart, I'm so sorry."

"It's fine. I'm okay now." Your mom looks so heartbroken all of a sudden that you can't help but scoot closer and pull her into a hug again. "Don't be sad," you chuckle. "It's part of growing up. If I didn't go through some stuff, I wouldn't be the person I am today. And let me tell you, I really like the person I am now."

Your mom sniffles. "Well if you're happy.."

"More than," you assure her. "I mean, I could probably use a little more fun between the sheets, but-"

"Y/N!" Melissa pulls back, shock etched into her features. "I am still your mother, young lady."

You burst out laughing, quickly leaning in to peck your mother's cheek. "I know, mom. Just wanted you to stop being sad. It worked."

A moment passes and her shoulders sag. She starts to laugh with you and you're so distracted by cheering her up that you don't hear the car parking outside or the steady heartbeat getting closer and closer. It's only when the front door opens that you freeze, your mom's smile widening.

"Hey, mom, whose car is out front?" Scott rounds the corner and you're surprised at how much your little brother has grown. He stares at you, eyes widening, before a very familiar and very missed crooked smile overtakes his features. "Y/N!"

You're laughing again as Scott practically rushes you, his arms tight around you in a welcoming embrace. He's warm, like really warm, and he has a very distinctive earthly smell. But that can't be right because as far as you knew the werewolf gene did not run in your family's DNA.

"What are you doing here?" Scott asks, squeezing you one last time before letting you go and then putting you at arm's length to look you up and down. He looks between you and your mom, smiling the entire time.

"Thought it was about time I came over for a visit." You shrug. "School is on break and my boss said I needed to cash in my vacation days or I'd lose them."

"I don't even know your boss, but I already love him. If he made you come home, he's okay in my books."

You chuckle, punching Scott lightly on the arm. You open your mouth to reply, but a frantic beeping reaches your ears. You and Scott look at your mom when she frowns, she then walking over towards the kitchen and picking up a beeper. She sighs and looks towards you and your brother, apologetically. "It's the hospital."

"Say no more," you tell her.

"Don't worry. Stiles will be stoked to see Y/N so we'll keep her busy for a while."

"Stiles?" You slowly smirk. "He still a little heathen?"

"Worse." Melissa snorts. "So much worse."

As Melissa gets ready for a shift that has been passed on to her, Scott convinces you to go surprise Stiles who's in town for the week. He hasn't stopped smiling the entire time he's set eyes on you, but every now and then you see his expression falter as he stares curiously at you before shaking off whatever it is and going back to his happy self.

The three of you head outside, you and Scott promising Melissa to be home in time for some breakfast before watching her drive off. You and Scott then climb into your own car, and he happily directs you towards the outskirts of town to a seemingly abandoned building.

"What is this place?" You ask, turning off your car and then climbing out.

"An apartment building. Friend of a friend likes his privacy so he bought the building. The only occupied portion of it is the loft at the very top."

"Nice," you quietly muse as you follow after him. But very quickly you come to a certain realization and stumble to a halt. "So he owns the entire building? Privately?"

"Well yeah," Scott says. "Why?"

"Oh no reason." You try to play it off, nonchalant. "I just- I rather not barge in without meeting the guy. Walking in uninvited is bad manners."

Your brother huffs. "It's just Derek. He won't care."

"Yeah, but I will."

Digging your heels in on this, Scott sighs. "Seriously, Y/N. Derek won't mind. You can wait down here all you want, but Derek won't waste his time coming down here just to tell you to come in."

"Can't you call him?"

Seeing your pout, Scott rolls his eyes but the amused little smile doesn't go missed. "Sure. Fine." He pulls out his phone and quickly presses the contact he's looking for. Phone then put on speaker, you flash him a small smile in gratitude.

"What do you want, McCall?"

"So I have a friend down here with me and she's really adamant that she gets an invite from you before we head upstairs. She says it's bad manners to just walk on in."

The guy scoffs. "Whatever. Come in."

Well that should do it. Hopefully.

"Happy now?" Scott puts his phone away after the call is abruptly ended and leads the way inside. "Now hurry up. I wanna see Stiles flip out." You follow him, briefly hesitating at the main door before exhaling silently in relief when you're permitted entry.

The metal, cage-like elevator gives you pause, but Scott promises it works just fine. So after settling inside and vowing to kill him if the elevator fails and falls, Scott presses the button for the loft at the very top of the building. Once stopped, you're then led towards a sliding metal door which Scott readily opens. Again you hesitate, but cross the threshold with no problem.

There are two men in the loft, one whose movements are very familiar and brings a smile to your face. The other one, the one with the dark hair and scruff, well it looks like he's scenting the air until his hardened gaze lands on you. But Stiles, who'd been preoccupied by tell him a story, immediately ceases talking to see what the problem is. And when his gaze lands on you, his jaw drops open and you can't help but snort.

"Holy shit. Y/N?"

"Goddamn, Stilinski," you muse. "You grew up in all the right places." Scott groans and you laugh when Stiles' awed expression turns a bit smug. From one second to the next he's moving and making a beeline for you, the two of you colliding in a hug which he rocks you side to side in. "It's nice to see you too, Stiles."

"How long are you here for? Dad will be happy to see you."

"Two weeks," you tell him as he pulls away. "And I can't wait to see Noah. It's been ages."

"I'm all for reunions," the guy who you're assuming is Derek says, "but why the hell would you guys let me invite a vampire into my home?"

Scott scoffs, Stiles freezes, and you frown at the new guy. This was not how you wanted the news broken to Scott. Your moment of anger, however, is overridden by the fact that there's no immediate denial of the supernatural from either your brother or his best friend.

"My sister isn't-"

"What are you?" You ask, cutting Scott off, glaring at Derek. "You smell wolfish, but so does my brother. Last I knew there was no wolf gene in our family line."

"Y/N, what?" Scott then asks. "You're not- tell him you're not a vampire."

Your gaze slides to Scott and you smile sadly at him. "I'm sorry. I can't do that." He tenses and Stiles takes a few steps back, and your heart breaks. "I promise to explain everything here in a bit, but tell me what's going on. Please. You don't smell human, Scotty, and neither does Eyebrows over there."

Scott gulps and nods, eyes filling with tears that refuse to fall. "Derek Hale comes from a family of werewolves. I'm sure you remember the Hale family before you left for college." There's a huff and you warily eye Derek as he rolls his eyes. Scott clears his throat and continues. "At the start of my sophomore year, I was bitten by a rogue alpha. I turned."

"Huh. I've never met a wolf that could turn someone with a bite."

"Never met a-" Stiles starts, only to stop and redirect his line of thoughts. "Wait, there are other types of werewolves?"

You shrug. "Well, yeah."

Stiles opens his mouth to retort, but Derek is quick to shut him down. "You can get your supernatural fix later, Stiles. Right now, Scott's sister has some explaining to do." By now he's nearly shoulder to shoulder with Stiles, arms crossed over his chest as he stares at you.

The guy's gruff, but since he's not outright threatening you, you don't get defensive. "Um, I died about two years ago."

"You died?!" Both Scott and Stiles yelp.

Your lips press into a thin line as you nod. Scott frowns. "Two years ago is when you stopped coming home to visit."

"I-I had to." You glance at your brother as the first tear falls, but you're quick to wipe it away. "About a year prior to dying, I fell in love with a local. Everything was fine. I was happy," you say. "But as the months passed, I started to realize that there were blank spots in my memories. Some days I'd wake up with bruises I couldn't explain or wake up completely exhausted to the point that I couldn't get out of bed. No one, other than myself, realized something was wrong."

"What happened?" Scott quietly asks.

You sniffle, smiling sadly. "My boyfriend. He was a vampire, only I didn't know it until I was one myself."

"Why only after? Surely you could tell something was up when you were with him," Stiles says.

You shake your head, but it's Derek who says. "Vampires can manipulate the mind. It's one reason my mom wasn't very trusting of them."

"He's right. Our kind can compel people- make them forget something happened or plant memories that never existed," you admit. "As it so happened, my boyfriend was feeding off of me without my consent. And when he took too much, I would pass out and then wake up extremely weakened without a clue as to why. Most of the time he compelled me to think that I was fine- that nothing was wrong with me."

"How'd you figure it all out?" Your brother wonders.

You exhale softly. "I went out partying with some friends. On our way back, my friend lost control of the car and slammed into a tree. I died, but I died with vampire blood in my system." All three guys shift uneasily of learning about the ingested blood, so you quickly explain how it got there in the first place. "When my boyfriend was too rough with me, he'd feed me his blood since vampire blood has healing capabilities. The only downfall of ingesting vampire blood is that if you die while it's still lingering in your system, you wake up in transition."

"Which means you had to feed on human blood," Derek says.

"Yes." Stiles and Scott grimace. "I had woken up in the hospital morgue and found my way to the blood bank. It was- it was a clusterfuck," you admit smally. "I gorged, I cried, and I unknowingly compelled the doctors to make them think that I was fine and then fled the hospital as soon as I could. Fortunately for me, there was another vampire at school. When she realized I was newly turned and I told her what I knew, she felt sorry for me. And since I was a vampire myself now, all my compelled memories started to rush back. She helped me break up with my vampire boyfriend and then took me under her wing. She taught me how to control the bloodlust and introduced me to a witch who made me a piece of daylight jewelry so I'd be able to walk in the sun."

Scott and Stiles appear floored by your story, but it's Derek whose expression has yet to falter. "I have one question," he says. You nod, waiting. "Are you here to cause drama for Beacon Hills?"

"No. Never," you immediately answer him. "I honestly just came for mom and Scott. I didn't expect any supernatural to be here at all or even that my baby brother was part of it now too."

"Okay then." His stern expression briefly falters so he flashes a quick smile. "Then welcome home, I guess."

You huff a quiet laugh. "Thanks. I'm Y/N, by the way. Scott's older sister."

"Derek Hale, co-alpha to the McCall/Hale pack."

"Co-alpha, huh. Does that mean," you trail off and glance at your brother, smiling when his eyes flash red at you. "Cool. The werewolves I know can't do that. They're really only dangerous when they've transformed under a full moon. Other than that, they're as human as can be."

"I have so many questions," Stiles muses.

Derek huffs in amusement. "Don't bother. We have books on other breeds of the same species. I just never brought them out because, until now, vampires never stepped foot in Beacon Hills and we didn't have to worry about other breeds of werewolves." He turns and walks back to a metal table where various books are opened, and busies himself by browsing the pages. Stiles is quick to follow after him and pester him about these so-called books.

Scott steps closer to you, hands tucked into the front pockets of his jeans as he smiles sheepishly. "So you're fine?" He wonders. "You're not gonna fang out and drain us of our blood?"

"What?" You snort. "No. If I wanted to drain you or anyone else, I'd have done it when everyone was hugging me and my mouth was literal inches from your throats. I'm fine. You guys have nothing to worry about."

"But you drink blood?"

"I do, although I tend to stick to blood bags from a hospital. If I drink straight from the vein, I only take enough to soothe the thirst and then quickly compel the person to eat a snack or go home and nap."

"Have you ever killed anyone?"

You pause. Scott stares at you, and even Derek and Stiles go eerily quiet after the question. You sigh. "Does it matter?" Scott shrugs and you hate you have to admit this. "Yes. My first victim was an accident. It happened when my friend was teaching me how to feed properly and I lost control. It happened twice more, but I was able to save those two individuals before their hearts stopped."

"Any on purpose?" Derek asks from his side of the room.

"A few." You gulp. "The moment a hunter learns you're a vampire, you're apparently fair game. If I have to take a life to keep my own, I will. Dying is not fun and I don't plan on doing it again any time soon." You notice Scott frowns at your answer, but Derek and Stiles hum before accepting your answer as appropriate. And not wanting to get into a discussion of right or wrong, you paste on a smile and change the subject. "So anyway, what else have I missed? Any girlfriends I should know about? Or boyfriends? I don't judge."

Derek snorts and Scott flashes you a crooked smile. "Actually, yeah. My girlfriend and Derek's are out right now buying some stuff to throw a party."

"Oohhh. Do these girlfriends have names?"

"Yeah. Malia and Kira," Stiles says. "Malia's my ex-girlfriend and Derek's long lost cousin, but now she's Scott's girlfriend. And Kira is Scott's ex-girlfriend who is now Derek's girlfriend."

"That is.. weird," you say, chuckling softly. "But cool, I guess, if you guys seem to have no problem with it."

"We're all pack," Scott tells you. "We're more than fine with it."

"And I'm actually dating Lydia Martin," Stiles says, "but she's super busy with school which is why she's not here."

"Lydia Martin?" Your nose wrinkles. "Snooty Martin?"

"Hey!" Stiles quickly reprimands you. "She's not so bad anymore. Not after finding out she was a banshee."

"Hold up. What?"

"Yeah. Lydia's a banshee." He shrugs. "Kira's a kitsune and Malia's a werecoyote."

"Holy shit. What the hell has Beacon Hills come to?"

"That's nothing," Derek says. "If you had been here all along, you'd have seen a lot more than just that. Beacon Hills is a beacon for crazy."

"Yeah. No shit."

What little tension that had been lingering finally vanishes and everyone shares a friendly laugh. But when a newcomer enters the apartment, it has your hackles rising.

"Ugh. Who let a bloodsucking fiend in?"

The elder gentleman that enters is rather attractive, but the scowl he's directing in your direction leaves you scowling back. "Aren't you a little old to be wearing v-necks?"

"And aren't you a little new to be taunting the big bad wolf?"

You hiss. "Do we like this guy?"

Without missing a beat, Derek says, "On occasion."

"Good." Then before anyone can blink, you use your vampiric speed to appear inches from the newcomer, grab him by the throat and pin him to the floor. Stiles and Scott yelp at your sudden movements, but you pay them no mind as you snarl in the wolf's face. "You don't wanna get on my bad side."

The wolf blinks in surprise and everyone seems to hold their breath. You see movement out of the corner of your eye, but since it's slow you don't bother to act on it. Instead, fingers gently touch your face before a thumb brushes on the underside of your left eye where you know small black veins are pulsing. "Beautiful."

You freeze and slowly ease up on the wolf. "What?"

He smirks. "If you wanted me on my back, sweetheart, all you had to do was ask." Derek, Stiles and Scott all groan. "Peter Hale, at your service."

"Y/N McCall," you hesitantly introduce yourself. Climbing off of him and steadily walking on your own two feet, you can't help but knock him down a peg when you see his expression. "And don't look too smug. The other Hale is hotter."

Meeting Malia and Kira was rather interesting, especially when you saw what they were face to face rather than just hearing about it. Seeing Scott and Malia shift almost left you speechless, but seeing Kira left you in complete awe. They had then asked to see you and Malia was the only one to not balk or make some sort of disgusted facial expression when you mentioned needed a bag of blood soon.

Over the next couple of days, Scott manages to convince you to explain to your mom about your new status as a vampire, as well as Noah Stilinski since both of them knew about the supernatural. And since Noah was like a father figure, you, Scott and Stiles got them together for a family dinner where you told them your story. Noah was angry and your mother was heartbroken, but both accepted you with open arms.

Being with your family and your brother's pack brings you a sense of calm that you haven't felt in a long while. You're easily accepted without question and it's like you've known everyone your entire life with how easily they talk with you. Peter, however, is a completely different story. While he's friendly, just like everyone else, he's a little too friendly. You were more than ready to return the teasing innuendos, but then Scott had to burst your bubble by telling you that he was Malia's biological father. Malia, however, is quick to assure you that she and Peter have a rocky relationship and that she doesn't care who Peter chooses to show affection to so long as she didn't have to see it or hear it.

You were hesitant to be so carefree and teasing with Peter afterwards, but the recent lack of male attention had you caving before the week was even over.

"So what happens if your daylight necklace is ripped off?" Stiles asks. It's now Saturday afternoon and everyone is at Derek's, making sure the loft is party ready for later that night. "Do you just burst into flames right then and there?"

"No." You snort. "It starts off as a sizzle and you have seconds to flee to the shadows before bursting into flames." Malia helps you position a keg into a large metal bin, Kira then filling the empty space around it with ice. "And my necklace is spelled. No one other than myself can remove it so I don't have to worry about someone ripping it off."

"I'm not gonna lie, I kind of want to see you burst into flames."

"You're an asshole."

"Actually, I kind of want to see it too," Malia says.

Stiles beams, pointing at Malia and nodding. "See! I'm not the only one."

You glance at Kira and she sheepishly smiles, not even attempting to deter her pack mates who want to see you purposely set yourself on fire. A moment passes before you sigh. "Fine, but you better get me a blood bag or I'm sinking fang into someone's vein."

Stiles is quick to scramble for the kitchen, no doubt making a beeline for one of the few blood bags Derek had tossed into the back of his fridge. You groan but chuckle nonetheless as you look around for the perfect spot and then find it in the corner of the loft just right by the overly large windows. Then settling in the corner with your back against the brick wall, you exhale deeply before carefully reaching behind your neck to unclasp your necklace. Grimacing, you look forward and hold your necklace out for someone to grab. Kira hurriedly steps forward and takes your necklace with gentle hands.

"Jesus Christ. I can't believe I'm doing this." You shakily raise your arm, hand reaching towards the sun rays before your fingers curl into a fist. You sigh, nervously chuckling as you shake your hand out. "Okay. I can do this. It's just a little fire and then I'll heal."

Stiles, Malia and Kira are all eerily silent as they watch you. You're grimacing before the sunlight even touches you and then your whole face is scrunching up when you feel the sizzle before hearing it. Kira gasps and your eyes don't even have to be open to know what they're seeing. Unblemished skin darkening before slowly glowing like burning embers. Seconds later the smoke starts and against your better judgment you hold your ground. At least until you feel your hand igniting in flames and then you're quickly bringing your arm close to your body and patting the fire out.

"Ow, ow, ow." You utter. "Fuck! Give me the blood!"

Stiles is staring at you, wide-eyed, before Malia rolls her eyes and grabs the blood bag from his hands to toss at you. Catching it with one hand, you nod at the werecoyote before dropping fang and biting directly into the bag. At that, Stiles gags. "I don't think I'll ever get used to that."

Pulling your fangs from your snack, you mutter, "Pussy," and then go back to draining the bag.

Stiles gasps in mock offense as the girls chuckle. Your hand had immediately healed after your first gulp, but you drain the bag anyway since you're going to be around a lot of strangers later on.

The loft door slides open and immediately all three wolves wrinkle their noses.

"Why does it smell like burning flesh?" Peter asks. No one says anything, but their eyes slide to you knowingly. You sheepishly smile as you hide the blood bag behind your back. Peter's eyes narrow. "What did you do?"

The heaviness of all their stares makes you squirm. "It was Stiles' idea!"

"Hey!" He barks. "Don't forget about Malia and Kira." Both girls frown at him in betrayal, but he merely shrugs in return. "If I'm going down, I'm taking all of you with me."

All three werewolves sigh, rolling their eyes. Scott and Derek bring in the delicate black lights that need to be fixated around the loft, and the buckets of neon paints. Peter drops whatever was in the brown paper bags he was holding and then saunters towards you. He spots Kira holding your necklace and snatches it from her hands. You subconsciously press your back into the corner, but Peter merely smirks as he unclasps the necklace in his hands and holds it out, waiting to place it around your neck.

"Come on, sweetheart. We don't have all day." Your eyes narrow at his teasing smile and you step towards him so he can put your necklace back on. And since you're facing him, refusing to give him your back, he reaches around you to clasp the necklace at the back of your neck. Then letting it settle against your throat, he untucks your hair from the chain and then gently cusps the sides of your neck in his hands while his thumbs brush along your jawline. His smile drops. "Don't do that again. If Stiles wants to see a fire, let the moron set himself ablaze."

"Hey! I heard that."

You blink in surprise at Peter before he takes his leave, only to see the subtly surprised expression Derek is sporting and the sour expression your brother can't help but show. Malia is indifferent to the exchange, Kira looks rather amused, and Stiles is just put out because he was called a moron. Nothing else is said on the matter, so you quickly flee the corner of shadows and get back to work.

- - - - - - - - - -

The party has only just begun by the time you send Malia and Kira on their way. You had painted both their faces with wolf-like features- Malia in blue and Kira in orange. You had also painted markings along their collar bones, and swirls and floral patterns up and down their arms. They were prepared to wait for you, but you insisted they head on out and that you'd join them soon enough.

You're left alone in Derek's bathroom, bowls of paint and paintbrushes scattered along the counter top as you determine what you want. Eventually you settle for neon green skeletal features, jagged teeth painted over your lips. You outline your neck and collar bones, and then stand there while you fan yourself so the paint will dry.

The faint sound of creaking catches your attention and you immediately glance towards the doorway. Peter stands there, leaning against the door jamb. "Love the handiwork," he says. "Are you taking any requests?"

You faintly grin at him. "No because then that puts the pressure on me to give you exactly what you want. But if you want me to paint you a surprise, then I'm your girl."

"Hmm. My girl. I think I like the sound of that."

"Of course you do." Your eyes roll, but the quirk of your lips tells him you're amused rather than annoyed. "Now get in here. I'll try and make it quick." Peter pushes off the door jamb and walks in, getting up close and personal to your back. You think he's trying to make you squirm, but you merely frown when you realize just how much taller he is than you when you stare at him in the reflection of the mirror. "Well this isn't going to work," you mutter. Pushing the bowls of paint and paint brushes aside, you turn around and hop onto the counter. "There. That's better."

"So much," he says while stepping into the space between your knees.

Snorting, you let the remark slide and grab his face in your hands. Turning his face this way and that way, you hum as you determine what you're going to paint for him. "Wanna match?" You ask. Then without giving him a chance to answer, you grab the bowl with green paint and a paintbrush. "We're gonna match, but you're only getting half a face because I really need to get out there and dance."

Peter fights off a smile as you grasp his chin with one hand and then quickly dip a paintbrush into the green paint with the other. The moment the loaded brush touches the center of his forehead, however, he schools his features so you have an unwrinkled canvas. The left side of his face gets the skeletal treatment, but when that's done you can't help but dip three fingers into purple paint and drag them down the unpainted side of his face.

He grins afterward. "Does this mean I can mark you back?"

"I don't see why not. Just nothing on my face."

Peter carefully coats his entire hand in pink before he looks at you, eyes darting up and down as he determines where he's going to mark. He smirks and then gently wraps his hand around your throat. He leaves it there, squeezing just so, and you gulp beneath his hand.

"Ooohh. Don't threaten me with a fun time." His eyes flare blue in response and you can feel your own eyes change in return as he drops his hand and slowly leans in. You put a hand on his chest to stop his progression. "Seriously, Hale. If you mess up all my hard work before anyone has a chance to see it, I will rip your jugular out."

Peter growls and you quickly lean in to snap your fangs right in front of his face. He shudders and you chuckle lowly before nudging him back and hopping off the counter. After all, you had a party to attend.

- - - - - - - - - -

The party has a bit more people than you'd expected there to be and even Derek seems a bit surly over how any people are in his home. But the DJ is amazing, the drinks are flowing, and the strobe lights are flashing in tune with the beats.

Everyone is lit up, whether it be their clothing or because of the paint, and you readily slide into the dancing masses. You don't seek out anyone in particular, choosing to dance on your own or anyone who sidles up to you in order to have a good time. But the second they get too handsy for your liking, you're shoving them off and moving on.

You're dancing, swiveling your hips and laughing with a few females who were all too happy to have you join them. You turn around, putting the girls at your back when your hands slide up your neck to gather your hair and hold it up off your neck before letting it fall once more. Your eyes somehow manage to find Peter, but the once teasing wolf looks anything but teasing. In fact, he looks rather pissed. And that- that just won't do.

Pushing through the bodies, you eventually make your way towards Peter from behind and tiptoe so your chin hooks over his shoulder. "So who are we killing?" You muse.

He tenses, but upon realizing who it is he's quick to relax. And without missing a beat, he says, "Two o'clock. Apparently this young man, if you can even call him that, has made the mistake of spiking a drink in hopes of giving it to one of the young ladies here. Fortunately, every female he's tried to pawn it off on has been smart enough to not take the pre-made drink."

His words immediately sour your mood. "Well that just won't do."

Before Peter can stop you, you're falling back onto the balls of your feet and practically skipping towards the guy Peter had been murdering with his eyes. A smile here, a touch there, and whispered promises of a good time goes a very long way and it doesn't take long to have the guy following after you. Then as you're about to pass up Peter with Troy (that was the guy's name, the one who was looking to roofie some poor innocent soul) following you, you flash Peter a wink and mutter follow me just loud enough so that he could hear.

You manage to avoid the rest of the pack as you lead Troy out of the loft and into the hallway, manhandling the all too eager dude-bro against the wall. He's a pretty decent looking dude, but his smug aura and tendency to roofie his potential hook-ups is a major turn off. So you tease him with a pretty smile, leaning in so your lips are just centimeters apart.

"Forgive me. I hope I'm not interrupting."

You pull back, turning half way and grinning at the intruder. There stands Peter, looking like he's not sorry at all. But Troy- Troy is annoyed. "Fuck off, man."

"Well that's no way to talk to your betters," Peter drawls.

"Yeah I gotta admit," you say. "That was a dick thing to say."

Troy glances between you and Peter, scoffing. "Whatever. I can find another girl to get laid by back in the party."

He goes to push off the wall, nudging you out of the way, but your hand lands in the middle of his chest before shoving him back into the wall. "I think not." Then meeting his gaze, you smile cruelly as you say, "Do not make a sound."

Troy's mouth opens as if to tell you off, but not a peep comes out. His eyes widen and Peter chuckles as he saunters towards you. "Huh. Having a vampire around could come in handy."

"So says the werewolf," you muse. Troy struggles against your hand, but he's not going anywhere. Not even when he raises a hand to strike you because Peter reaches out with lightning quick reflexes and catches his wrist. You smirk before looking at Troy. "Now that wasn't very nice. I was just going to let you go after scaring you a bit, but now.."

"Now," Peter says, "I think it's time we give you a taste of your own medicine. Let you know how it feels to have something taken from you without your consent." Troy's eyes widen even more while you and Peter snicker at the spike of fear in his scent. "Y/N, will you do the honors?"

"With pleasure." You stare at Troy, willing your features to change right before his very eyes and hissing when your fangs elongate. He renews his struggle in order to get away, but with your strength and Peter's he's going anywhere. "Now this is going to hurt like hell," you coo. "I want you to feel the fear of every girl you ever roofied just so you could get your dick wet."

Your smiling façade drops as you snarl, opening your mouth wider as your head rears back before you lunge forward and sink your teeth into Troy's neck. You feel him stiffen in pain, struggling even more to get away as you harshly drain his life's essence through the wound in his neck. But the second you feel his struggle lessen, you pull back and lick the corners of your mouth.

Peter chuckles darkly as you pat Troy on his cheeks. "Perk up some, will 'ya? I hardly drained an artery."

"Uh, sweetheart? I don't think he can talk."

"Oh. Right!" Catching Troy's gaze once more, you say, "You can make sound again, but you're never going to speak about what just happened. You're going to forget that monsters exist. All you need to know that if you ever see my face or his face again," you compel him while gesturing to Peter who's now standing over your shoulder, "then you're going to remember something terrible happened but you're not quite sure what. You'll just be deathly afraid. Do you understand?"

"I understand."

"Good. Also, you're never going to spike another drink ever again. If you ever just THINK about taking anything without the person's consent, you're going to get violently ill and remember the pain in your neck from when I sunk my teeth into it. Got it?"

"Y-Yes."

"Awesome! Now, run along. You're no longer welcomed here."

Troy blinks rapidly, his mind clearing briefly as the compulsion sets in. When he sees you again, and then Peter at your back, his eyes widen before he scrambles to the side and rushes for the elevator. You laugh and wiggle your fingers in a mocking wave. Then the moment he's in Derek's death trap of an elevator and is descending, Peter's crowding you against the wall as he dips down so his hands can grab the back of your thighs and lift you up.

Your legs automatically wrap around his waist and you have a split second of being surprised before his mouth is pressing against yours, tongue licking into your mouth a couple of times, teasing yours, before teeth pull on your bottom lip as he retreats. You groan, hands finding purchase on his shoulders before sliding back and up, and settling at the nape of his neck. "So, uh, violence really does it for 'ya. Huh?"

"You have no idea." Peter leans in once more, nose brushing against yours and leaving you anticipating his next bruising kiss, but he merely presses his lips softly against yours. You whimper and he smirks. "Now, now. Patience is a virtue." You growl and he chuckles. "Trust me. The last thing we need is to get carried away in the hall and-"

"Oh gross. Seriously, you guys!?"

Peter sighs as you jolt in his hold. You're already staring wide-eyed at your brother, so Peter slowly lets you down before bringing you into his side and slinging an arm around your shoulders. "Yes?" He drawls.

Scott wrinkles his nose. "You guys good out here? Stiles said he saw you leave with a stranger and Peter looked a little too happy about it."

"It's fine," you assure him. "Just some guy trying to roofie himself a quick lay." Scott bristles, but your too calm demeanor keeps him from asking questions. "If you're wondering, I just scared him a bit and then sent him on his way."

"Y/N!" He says. "He's just going to go out there and do it again."

"Please," you scoff. "Do you think me dumb, brother? I obviously compelled him."

"She did." Peter smiles. "And it was marvelous. You should have seen it."

"I don't know. It seems to have gotten the both of you amped up so I assume it's something I'd have disapproved of." You and Peter both smile innocently at Scott, and he rolls his eyes. "Whatever. Either rejoin the party or go somewhere else. Don't have sex in the hall. I have to walk through here."

As Scott disappears, you hum and nudge Peter with your hip. "Well would you look at that. You got the alpha's permission to defile his own flesh and blood. Wherever shall we go?"

"I've got a condo downtown."

"Too far. My car is downstairs," you say as Peter chuckles. "We can take the edge off first and then head back to your place."

"Finally! A McCall whose choices I can get behind."

"Are my choices the only thing you'd like to get behind?" You smirk at him, winking, and then start heading towards the elevator. "Lets go, Mr. Wolf. I only have less than a week left in Beacon Hills and I'd like to find out exactly how rough a wolf like you can get."

#peter hale x reader #peter x reader #peter hale imagine #teen wolf imagine #peter hale #scott mccall #derek hale #stiles stilinski #teen wolf #fanficimagery #imagine

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ishallbeyourmuse · 2 years

Text

Boogeyman

Part VI- the Creels

1986. Hawkins

Nadya went to bring Eddie Munson some supplies, she obviously didn’t want the guy to starve to death. She already knew him, cause she sometimes, when everything became too much, bought some weed and stuff like that from him. She hoped she wouldn’t startle the boy, or think she came as the detective Montgomery. She went straight to the boat house.

-Eddie, it’s me, you know Nadya - she warned him as she entered.

He quickly got out from under the covers.

-Montgomery, what are you doing here?- he looked suspicious.

-Well, Eddie, it looks like we’re both involved in the same shitty supernatural mess.

-You too? I thought you were just a cop-like ugh something, who likes to break the law with me.

She chuckled at that.

-No, the other’s probably already mentioned me to you, I’m the other lab experimented girl, who still has her powers.

-Oh you? Nooo that sounds insane. You as one kind of superhero… utterly insane- he seemed like he just got high on the new information.

-Yeah, I know.It’s unbelievable - she muttered.- I’m not a superhero actually.

-Well, you sound like one, if we put aside the cop thing.

Nadya groaned at that.

-Fuck, I’m no cop Eddie, don’t associate me with them.

-Okay, okay - he held up his hands in defense. Nadya leaned against one of the metal walls.- What are you experimented kids called, by the way? - he asked as he started eating.

-Well, I’m for one called the ‘Fair lady’- she answered, but the look the boy gave, showed he didn’t have a single clue on what’s she talking about.-Hungarian mythical being. Christians call me a demon, pagans a fairy of sorts. Can drive people to madness, lure men to do whatever I want, get with the spiritual world, although that’s more of like a necromancer - she explained quickly.

-Woah, that sounds batshit crazy, but still cool- he looked amazed.- You are a fairy, I can’t even believe they exist.

-I’m not a…- she was interrupted.

-What did they do with you in the lab?- he was quick to ask. Nadya didn’t want to answer to that, but as if on cue, the other’s called her on the radio.

-Nadya, it’s Dustin, we really need you right now, we’ll be at the Wheeler’s house.

-Well I need to go, but it was fun meeting you Munson- she said, as she was heading towards to door.

-Wait- Eddie quickly said, he went to her and passed her a box with weed in it- I owe you.

Nadya could only smile mischievously as she accepted it, and left.

At the Wheeler’s

-So the point is, Max is in danger- Lucas finished.

-You mean you can become Vecna’s next victim, anytime? - she looked at Max, who held no emotions on her face as she was writing letters.

-Yep, that’s pretty much the case - she answered.

-Shit, shit shit- Nadya muttered under her breath.- Okay so we go with the theory that Victor Creel said the truth and his house was haunted, right?

-Yes- Nancy said, still not knowing where she was heading with this.

-So that means he was the only survivor of the massacre. In his opinion he was left alive as some form of punishment but that sounds bull.

-You mean there must’ve been a different reason?

-Yes, I mean it doesn’t sound like it’s in Vecna’s nature to keep him alive for that, especially if he was preying on them for the exact reasons.

-So we have to go and see him- Nancy said.- But we can’t just get in... but I have on idea.

-What exactly is your plan?- Steve asked.

-Nadya, you and Robin will come with me, I’ll get us some letters first- she left after she announced that.

Steve sighed.

-Guess that means I’m still babysitting.

Nadya patted his shoulder.

-Yep, that’s right, big guy.

Pennhurst Asylum

The three of them finally reached their destination, sawing patients in the garden as they walked straight towards the entrance.

-This is totally not it - Robin complained, as she was trying to fit her dress, to feel more comfortable.- Seriously how can anyone breath in this stuff?

-Well we need this, so please suck it up- Nance answered.-We really need this to go okay, so please stay put and let me and Nadya do the talking.

It kind of started to piss Nadya off, how Nancy treated Robin. She loved both of them, like they were her sisters, so she was definitely going to settle the matter between them after this.

This place made her shiver, the people here reminded her of her time in the laboratory, at least what she remembered of it.

They stalked towards the receptionist.

-Hi- Nancy started.- We’re the criminal psychology students, Mr. Hatch already expects us.

The woman nodded towards the guards and they accompanied them to Hatch’s office.

They were waiting, while he examined their papers. Nadya felt like somehow, their lie will be discovered, but tried to shook off this feeling from her insides.

-Excellent - Hatch said looking at them.- The three of you are seem like great students, but Victor Creel is not a regular patient here. He is a convicted murderer, you need higher permission to visit him.And the three of you seem so young to have completed such degrees.

-Geniuses exists, sir- Nadya said- We are, very sorry we weren’t able the ask for the permission, but we are really in a need of this information for our thesis.

-Why have you waited so long, your thesis is due in a month- he looked at them with his stern glance, that reminded Nadya to Dr. Brenner’s face, when she did something bad.

-I’m sorry sir- Robin started, to their surprise.-but we have already asked for permission three times, and we were denied of it. We are sick and tired of the fact that just because our gender is not the same as our classmates, we’re getting denied of this things. I came here, all dressed up, but you know what in 1978 I was at summer camp. I heard a story. The story of Victor Creel, and I wanted to understand ever since, how could someone would be capable of such heinous things. This took me straight to this path, I’m standing on, and I’m damn good at this, sir.- she finished in a rushed tone, it seemed to make Hatch reconsider their position, like it was a miracle, Nadya didn’t have to use her powers to let them talk to the guy.

-Five minutes- Hatch said finally.

-Thank you so much sir.

They were being led through different rooms in the hospital, one caught their attention.

-The music seems to comfort them, it sometimes can reach parts of the brain, words can’t- he explained to them.

They were finally down there standing before Victor Creel.

-Mr. Creel- Nadya started- we came to hear your side of the story, the real side of the massacre inside your house.

-I’ve talked to enough psychiatrists by now - his tone was raspy, like he hadn’t talked in a while, which most definitely was true.

-Sir, we aren’t like them, I promise- Nancy said- in fact, we believe you. The demon, that haunted your house. It came back, and it’s gonna hurt our friends if you don’t help us.

The man slowly turned at that, his eyes too were missing. This wasn’t mentioned in any of the articles they’ve read.

-You want to hear my story- he said.- Be my guest then, but I'll warn you, there’s nothing you can do if it returned...My wife, had some legacy, which we bought a house from as we moved to Hawkins.We thought it would be better for our little boy, Henry- Nadya took a sharp breath when she heard that name again.- You know he was a sensitive boy, my wife thought he was broken, but he just needed a place where he could belong to. Unfortunately we didn’t pick right. It started with dead animals around our house, then came the visions, I got flashbacks… from the war. My wife saw things that weren’t there, we all had nightmares. One day we sat down to have dinner. The music radio started playing without anyone laying a finger on it. And when I turned back I saw my wife floating, her bones breaking, and then she was dead - he was sobbing at this point. Nadya felt like she couldn’t stand on her legs, images yet again filled her brain of the laboratory and there stood a light haired boy who did the some to one of their siblings.

-Nadya, you okay?- Robin asked. Nadya was there in front of the cell again and she nodded.

-I grabbed my children and ran to the door, but it was closed, and I was back at the war, hearing the sound of an angel, I slowly came back to my senses, and found my children, on the ground. Little Henry was still alive, but he died in a coma two weeks later. So this is my story, that is all I can tell, and good luck fighting off that monster.

He didn’t speak to them again, but the door to the basement suddenly opened, Hatch came down with guards following him, and oh, Nadya thought, they were so screwed.

#henry creel #peter ballard #001 stranger things #peter ballard is hot #stranger things #stranger things 4 #001 #fanfic #original character #dustin henderson #max mayfield #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #steve harrington #lucas sinclair #will byers #eleven

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shutupanakin · 3 years

Text

Wasting Your Time ch.1

“Wh— what?” Tommy choked out, his voice hoarse from the lack of use all day.

The man rolled his eyes, as if he didn’t just ask a completely impolite question. “I said, do you have any booze?”

Tommy sat still. He reached into his jacket pocket, his hand finding only a plastic pen. Could he stab this man with a plastic pen?

Tommy pulled said piece of plastic out, visibly holding it up. “I have a pen.” Something about the bemused look on the man's face made Tommy click it, and again, repeatedly.

click click click click click click click click—

...

or; Tommy planned on dying. He meets Wilbur instead.

crossposted on ao3 here

Tommy stared at the yellow line, centimeters away from his feet. The announcement of the incoming train ringing in his ears, feeling the approachment of the vehicle vibrate the concrete under his feet. He forced his head up, glaring at the incoming lights.

Tommy squinted. He threw a glance at the only other person waiting on the 11:25 pm train— a little old lady, Tommy was sure that he had at least a foot on her. Her wrinkled hand clutched a brown cane, the other one on her ruby red purse.

Tommy would hate to inconvenience her.

Tommy stepped a few inches back, safely behind the yellow line. The train slowed to a stop, waiting a few moments before the metal doors pulled open in front of him, clicking with a metallic sound. There were a few stragglers at the front, where the elder woman had gotten, and a couple sitting in the midsection. Tommy ducked his head and grabbed a seat at the back.

Tommy threw his feet up on the empty seat next to him, resting the back of his head against the warm glass. Another few seconds and the doors hissed shut. The train pulled away, the lights in the tunnel buzzing past him.

Tommy mentally tallied how many people were in here with him; the three at the front, with the elder woman who was with him on the platform, and the couple. Six people who’s nights he could've possibly ruined. Delaying a train at this time of night would be rude.

Sam would be sleeping, he had morning classes that he couldn't afford to stay up late for. When Tommy slipped out of their flat his older brother had been snoring away peacefully in his room. The thought of Sam makes Tommy pick at a loose thread on his jacket, pulling it with his fingernail. He didn’t want to think about Sam right now.

Tubbo would be up, definitely. His absent sleep schedule sucked. He was probably in a discord call with Ranboo, talking or playing CSGO or messing around in Minecraft , he didn’t know. On a normal night he’d probably be with them. Laughing so hard and loud that it makes the neighbor's dogs bark. Falling over in his chair… and Sam would sleep right through it, like he always did.

Wasn’t exactly a “normal” night, though.

Honestly, he hasn’t had a normal night in a while. Tubbo, often Ranboo, would text him; “wanna play?” Or “why aren’t you in vc?” And Tommy would reply, “sorry, don’t feel like playing”, or,”can’t, got a bunch of homework.” Sometimes that wasn’t a lie. Then, Tubbo just stopped asking. And of course, Tommy couldn’t blame him, it hurt, yeah, but Tommy unintentionally ghosted them.

He just couldn't stand to be in that call, after the last few times. Tubbo and Ranboo giggling at each other, poking fun with inside jokes that Tommy didn’t understand. Little moments like those would have Tommy faking a yawn and saying goodnight. He didn’t want to ruin their fun.

Tommy’s phone buzzed, the little bit of reception that he got down here snapping him back to his current reality. The train had stopped at the next station, the couple standing and the old woman following. Tommy’s eyes followed them as they left, debating if he should follow. Another buzz. Tommy turned his attention back to his phone.

Tubbo at 11:30 pm

Toommy

Tubbo at 11:30 pm

do u wanna play Terraria

His fingers started typing, beginning a message, but shook his head, shoving his phone back in his pocket. His activity on discord was already invisible. Tommy didn’t know what to say to him. He didn’t want his last possible text to Tubbo to be something as simple as a turndown to play a game.

A thump from across Tommy startled him, the cause of the sound being a man with a mess of curly brown hair mirroring his position across the aisle. His leg up and arm resting on the top of the seat. Brown eyes framed with round glasses met Tommy’s.

"Got any booze, kid?” The train was pulling away.

For no particular, definitely unrelated reason, Tommy wished that he had just gotten off.

“Wh— what?” Tommy choked out, his voice hoarse from the lack of use all day.

The man rolled his eyes, as if he didn’t just ask a completely impolite question. “I said, do you have any booze?”

Tommy sat still. He reached into his jacket pocket, his hand finding only a plastic pen. Could he stab this man with a plastic pen?

Tommy pulled said piece of plastic out, visibly holding it up. “I have a pen.” Something about the bemused look on the man's face made Tommy click it, and again, repeatedly.

click click click click click click click click—

The man waved his hand, leaning forward. “Fucking— stop that! You are annoying.”

Tommy grinned, it didn’t reach his eyes. “I know,” He said, pocketing the pen. “and you are a loser.”

The man gasped in a show of dramatics. Bringing his arm up to his forehead, the brown fabric of his coat covering his eyes. “Oh, woe me, the tragedy, meeting my end to a child!”

Tommy scowled. “You’re a real prick.”

The older man didn’t falter, continuing his tirade. “Poor, poor me. All thy’ve ever wantedth was thy vodka.”

Tommy didn’t know why he egged this on. He could pull out his earbuds and tune out his nonsense until Tommy or him got off the train, whichever was coming first. “Your Shakespeare sucks,” Tommy grunted. “ Wantedth isn’t a word, bitch.”

“Then you know Shakespeare?”

Quickly, Tommy shook his head. “Absolutely not. None of that nerd shit. I just paid enough attention in Lit to know you’re a fucking moron.”

His eyes narrowed at Tommy, or more so, what he was wearing. “What sport do you play?”

Tommy’s eyebrows shot up, what made him ask that? “Pardon?”

He groaned, rolling his shoulders. “Your jacket, you insolent toddler,” He gestured vaguely at Tommy. “what sport?”

Tommy looked down, glancing at the red thread he was picking at earlier. “Oh,” That came out quieter than Tommy wanted, a whisper. “it’s my brothers,” There was Tommy’s voice. “Got it when he was visiting the states.” Tommy shook his head, brushing the thought of Sam away. “And my names Tommy, dickhead.”

The complete ass, he had the audacity to hum at him . “Wilbur Soot,”

Tommy scoffed. “That’s a stupid fucking name.”

“You are a child.” Wilbur chided, there was no true heat behind his words.

Tommy shrugged. “You’re a bitch.”

Another stop, Tommy tallied that as the third one; another stop he hadn’t gotten off at. This wasn’t meant to be a trip, he remembered. The ticket, which sat folded in his pants pocket, was one way. Tommy had bought it out of... what was it? Courtesy? He hadn’t intended to survive long enough for the ticket collectors to come around.

Excuses. Excuses, that’s what this was. Tommy was making excuses, simple as that. He wanted to go through with this, he was sure of it. He’d thought about this for weeks, planned this out for days, he figured out which day and which time of night would have the least people. But there were still people, there was the old lady and couple who had gotten off earlier and the four people at the front and the—

Well, there was Wilbur Soot, who for whatever damned, unknown reason, had sat down across from Tommy. Now Tommy was stuck with him until either of them get up and leave. He silently wondered who would go first.

No one had gotten on, or left. The train moved on.

“So uh, where—“ Tommy stumbled, swallowing. “Where you headed?”

Wilbur shrugged, Tommy furrowing his eyebrows. "Nowhere in particular, just felt like getting on. You?”

The fuck did that mean? Tommy thinks. “So you just... got on, no reasoning. Just like that?”

“Just like that. You didn’t answer the question.” Tommy groaned. Tommy was edging back to wanting to punch his stupid face.

“Not when you answer so vaguely,” Tommy cried. “I’m not going anywhere in particular either, for your information.”

“Really?” Wilbur pushed, incredulously. Like he had the right to be skeptical.

“Really.” Honestly, who did this irritable dickhead think he was? Tommy shuffled, folding his arms. Maybe he will get off at the next stop, he won’t ever have to ever see the enraging presence that was Wilbur Soot and his stupid Reagan and Bush sweater again.

Reagan, Reagan… that was an American President, right? The more and more he observed the man, it could be concluded without a doubt that he was a loser. Not only that, but an irritable one. An irritable loser. What a fate, worse than death. He’d say it was a cursed existence, if you asked Tommy.

Tommy shifted uncomfortably, becoming too aware of the hard plastic seat underneath him. “I just needed to get out tonight. Don’t know why.”

Wilbur rapped his knuckles against the window, in a rhythm that Tommy didn’t recognize. “Running from something? School? Parents?” He grinned. “Girlfriend?”

Tommy’s face twisted in disgust. “I— no no no. To all of those! Down the list, no, no, and no. ”

“Running to something then?” You could word it like that. Tommy frowned, decidedly not answering. “What, were you gonna jump then?”

Tommy knew that Wilbur was joking, but he couldn’t help the way he flinched. “I wasn’t going to jump, bitch— do you do this to every stranger you meet on the rails? Interrogate them for their life story?”

Wilbur pointed his index finger towards the front of the train. “They would not care, you know,”

Tommy’s mouth was dry. “What?”

“Them,” Wilbur gestured. “everyone, they would complain about the delay, they— they would be at best inconvenienced. At worst angry at you .”

“You’re real emo, you know,” Tommy deadpanned. “A right gothic.”

“I prefer poet,” Wilbur corrected. “I am not wrong though, the people here, no sympathy. No empathy. Just inconvenienced.”

“You’re inconveniencing me.” Tommy expressed.

“Because you were going to jump?”

“ Oh —“ Tommy snapped. “That’s none of your business! Stop trying to psychoanalyze me you pretentious prick, what I came down here to do is none of your busin—“

“So you were going to? That is what you came down here to do?”

Whatever battle they were fighting, Tommy was losing, and he was exasperated . “Oh, so, what if I was? Why do you care?”

“Come on,” Wilbur said, swinging his legs over the seat and standing up. How his legs weren’t asleep, Tommy didn’t know. Tommy hit his asleep leg, silently cursing it.

“Wha’?” Tommy asked, narrowing his eyes. “What makes you think I wanna get off with you?”

Wilbur shrugged. “Well, I have nowhere to go, and you have nowhere to go, and to be honest this is getting depressing. And, I would rather not leave a possible suicidal teenager alone. Also, I know a store outside this station.”

Tommy groaned. “Oh no,” He said. “I’m being kidnapped. No, stop, someone help please.” He stood up, shaking the static like feeling out of his left leg. Begrudgingly following Wilbur when the sliding doors pulled open. “Is this the part where your gang comes around the corner in a white van and shoves me in?”

“I don’t have enough friends for that.” Wilbur insisted, leading Tommy up the concrete stairs of the station. Tommy couldn’t help his smile. “I believe you.” Wilbur blew air out his nose, hopefully in amusement.

Tommy checked his phone, the bright light illuminating his face as he and Wilbur stepped out of the tunnel. 12:22 am stared back at him, along with a few more texts from Tubbo. Tommy pocketed it.

Tommy breathed in the crisp midnight air, after almost an hour in the underground, the fresh air felt nice. The area was rural, decently lit for the middle of the night. Tommy turned to look at Wilbur. “So where we goin? Pub? Club? I don’t have a fake ID, big dubbs.”

“No,” Wilbur shook his head, starting his trekk up the hill. “Store, if you can call it that. He is open until three.”

They crossed the street before Wilbur came to a stop, tapping his foot against the ground. “This it?” Tommy asked, reading the sign. Wilbur giving a mmm hmm — in response.

JACK OF ALL TRADES

That was… lame, Tommy thought. “I can’t go in though.” Tommy double-took, stepping back.

“What do you mean you can’t go in?!” He hissed.

“Got banned.” Wilbur replied, as if it was the simplest thing in the world.

“How?”

Wilbur slapped him on the shoulder. “Story for later, my young friend. Maybe refrain from telling Jack I sent you in, though.”

Tommy huffed. “You suck.” He stuffed his hands in his jacket pocket. “You’re not gonna ditch me here are you?”

Wilbur rolled his eyes, holding up three fingers. “I swear on it.” His smile grew, eyes shining.

He sighed. “Why am I going in again?” It seemed rather pointless, to take Tommy to a store he wasn’t even allowed in. With a quick glance through the windows Tommy guessed it was some sort of gift shop, snow globes and odd looking jewelry lining their respective shelves.

Wilbur tilted his head. “Because it will give you something to do other than to ride the tube to the end of the tracks trying to make up your mind.” He answered.

“When you put it like that,” Tommy grumbled, pushing open the door, triggering the bell at the top to ring. The inside was small, and warm. It was definitely homey.

“Hello!” A heavy accented voice greeted Tommy looked up, a shaved headed man wearing a striped hoodie smiling at him. Jack, he assumed. He sat behind the counter, his legs perched up on the counter. He put down the magazine he had been reading. “What brings you here this time of night?”

Tommy’s mouth formed into a ‘o’, he didn’t expect to have to make conversation with another stranger tonight. “Oh, um,” He cringed, running his hand through his hair. “out for a walk, saw you were open.” He lied, Wilbur had said not to bring him up.

Starting to pick at the thread again, his eyes scanning over the snow globes and miniature statues. His attention fell on a bowl of pins, some were round and others were shaped. The scan bars on the back faded or scratched out.

He reached in, moving around the pins. He wasn’t really searching for anything specifically. Tommy rubbed his thumb over the bee shaped pin he had pulled out. “How much?”

“The pin?” Tommy nodded. “Two pounds.” Jack answered.

Tommy blinked. “That’s ridiculous.” He grumbled, opening his wallet. He handed it to Jack, fiddling with the bee pin.

“Have a goodnight now!” Jack called as Tommy left, stepping outside. Wilbur was there, like he said he’d be.

“Did you get banned for complaining about his obscure prices?” Tommy sneered, making Wilbur laugh. “Absolute ridiculousness.”

“What did you get?” Tommy opened his palm, showing the bee. He attached it to his jacket, the needle clicking into place.

“Jackets blank, thought it could use something.” Tommy explained, walking beside Wilbur. “I’ve been completely ripped off, though. You did this to me.”

“No no, mister Jack Manifold did that to you. Not me.” Wilbur expressed. “I merely brought you there.”

“To be scammed.” Tommy insisted.

Their walk back to the tube station was pleasantly uneventful, Tommy didn’t comment on how Wilbur got on the opposite platform they got off of. He guessed that was the sign that this night was coming to an end. They were going back in the direction they came.

Tommy silently wished that they didn’t, that they kept going. The idea of returning home was becoming less and less appealing. The robotic voice echoed through the speakers, announcing the incoming train.

Tommy resisted the urge to make a jumping joke, knowing that would earn him a smack against the head or something. So he stood behind the yellow line, Wilbur at his side. The inside had a single man, at the front alone. Tommy ignored him, hitching his seat at the back, Wilbur sitting across from him.

“This wasn’t how I planned my night, by the way,” Tommy grumbled.

“I know,” Wilbur told. “I am sure this had the better outcome though. I will make you a deal, okay?” Tommy nodded, starting to play with the edge of his sleeves. “If you can make it to the end of the week without, trying to jump in front of another train, or try to kick a chair out from underneath you—“

“That would be a really lame way to die,” Tommy interjected.

“I am giving an example, Tommy,” Wilbur huffed. “If you make it through the end of the week, come back here. Same day.”

Tommy considered it. “Same time?”

Wilbur shrugged. “Sure, although I would not recommend making a habit of sneaking out in the middle of the night.”

Tommy pinched the bridge of his nose, contemplating. This offer— there was no reason he had to take it. He could get off and never see Wilbur again, it wouldn’t change anything. The world will continue spinning, they would both move on, Wilbur would eventually forget about this strange encounter, and so would Tommy.

They stopped, again, no one getting on or off. Wilbur was still waiting for his answer. Tommy didn’t have it.

This was nice though , Tommy thought. It was nice to leave that flat, to get off his mattress. To have a reason to ignore the discord messages from Tubbo and Ranboo. He didn’t have to lay in bed, dreading going to his classes the next day, because he was occupied. He had something to do.

“Alright,” Tommy said. “I’ll take that bet, big man.”

“Deal?” Wilbur reached his hand out, Tommy leaned forward, shaking it.

“Deal,” Tommy gave a toothy smile. “I’ll try not to become a tubeline statistic until next week.”

“That is not funny,” Wilbur warned, although there was no true malice in his tone. “I will have you know statistics are no laughing matter.” Tommy barked out a laugh, the serious expression Wilbur word dropping. If the stragglers at the front were giving bewildered stares at Tommy, he didn’t notice.

“It was…” He wheezed. “It was kinda funny. If anyone gets to joke about that it’s me, alright? Isn’t that some, therapist shit or something? Using humor to cope? That’s me. I’m doing that.”

“You should try that, seeing a therapist,”

Therapy was useless, at least to Tommy. He didn’t need someone in a fancy office to tell him something was wrong with him, he knew damn well what was wrong with him. No pens, or clipboards, or uncomfortable couches, or ticking clocks and judgemental eyes will be able to tell him something that he didn’t already know.

Tommy thinks Sam knows one, or at least she’s studying to become one. A school friend that Tommy’s met maybe twice. The mere idea of dumping his shit on her, he almost felt bad! No thank you , Tommy thought. He would be avoiding that.

“Nah,” Tommy brushed it off. “I don’t do that. Don’t need that. Won’t do anything for me.”

Tommy didn’t realize how long they had been talking, because when the train slowed into a familiar station, Wilbur pulled himself up. Tommy frowned, watching the man stand next to the doors, waiting for them to pull open.

“So, see you next week Toms?” He teased.

Tommy groaned in annoyance. “We are certainly not at Toms yet, big dubbs.”

“I will get there I’m sure,” He said, stepping out. “Farewell Tommy!” He waved, Tommy’s urge to punch those stupid glasses off his face coming back.

Tommy flipped him off, watching the curly mop of brown hair disappear as the train started moving, the platform and the man with it being replaced by the cement walls.

His stop was next, he realized. Tommy would get off, he would walk home and slip into his bed and would have to pray that Sam’s heavy sleeping habits had not changed; that he hadn’t gotten up and realized that his bed was empty, or that the door was unlocked. The thought of Sam sitting there on the couch, waiting for him to enter the door like some sort of walk of shame—

Tommy quickly checked his phone, looking at the notifications. He breathed in relief, no notifications from Sam. No missed calls, no voice mails, no worried text messages; all things that would indicate Sam was awake and that he knew Tommy was out.

Shakily, Tommy stood up. The doors clicked open, waiting for him to exit. He could just keep going the other direction, he thought. He made no promise to Wilbur to return home.

Tommy stepped out, the doors hissing shut behind him. Wind bristled through his hair as the train moved again, almost taunting him. Look at me! Look what you missed!

He chose not to, though. Tommy didn’t because of a bet, and he didn’t even place money on it. A simple bet of wills was supposed to keep Tommy running till the end of the week. It wasn’t like Tommy didn’t enjoy Wilburs company either, it was… nice, having someone to just talk to, to engage with. He didn’t have to raise his voice or make a scene to get him to listen to him.

He would never tell Wilbur that, though. He was fucking irritating enough.

Tommy shoved his hands in his pockets, leaving the station. He’d come back, alright. If not just to prove something to Wilbur but to himself, maybe.

He really should've put money on it, though.

#tommy #tommyinnit #sbi #sleepy bois inc #sleepy boys inc #crime boys #wilbur soot #wilbur #crime bois #dream #dream smp #dsmp #wyt shutupanakin #shutupanakin posts

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