#me going 'mother i need to make an apple pie' in a grave tone

[riverofrainbows]

Tipps for seasonal depression:

Get as much light as possible. I have fairy lights around my window to compensate for the lack of sunlight coming through it

Consider getting a daylight lamp, or a light alarm. I have an alarm, and it can also just turn on the brightest light permanently. I put it in front of my window too sometimes

Consider going on walks/outside for a minute at noon, to get maximum daylight in your eyes

Aggressively romanticise autumn. Bake apple pie, get a pumpkin spice latte, go to a pumpkin patch, make an autumn playlist, have a cozy scarf/jacket etc you look forward to wearing, buy teas and make yourself some tea, eat soups, bake and eat cookies, go on walks, collect and press some leaves, go all out for halloween if you like it, make horror movie nights if you like those, put cinnamon and vanilla in everything possible,....

I mean full on Instagram Aesthetic if you look for ideas, don't care if it's cringy. I like to change my lockscreen to autumn pictures too. I don't even really like pumkpins, but it's mandated pumkpin season now, so let's try it out. Try out things even if you don't know if you'd like them. It's about enrichment in the enclosure.

As part of the point above: decorate for autumn, and later for winter (if you celebrate also for christmas, or halloween, or any other holiday you might celebrate)

Make plans you are excited about (this can include the autumn activities™ too), at least two every month. Better if it's more. You don't even have to do all of the plans (unless that is sth that makes you frustrated and adds to your depression), just making them and doing some of them helps (you do need to do some of them tho, thats important)

The plans part is especially important for when it's still dark and cold but, if you are of the same background as me, all the fun stuff like autumn and christmas is over. So when there isn't really a holiday or any general activities, but it's still winter, whenever that may happen for you. Keep making plans for things, and try doing those plans. Start or get back into a hobby, get obsessed with a new show.

A generally helpful point: follow some hashtags, such as autumn aesthetics hashtags, cute animal hashtags, art hashtags or channels, etc. Enrichment and decoration of your enclosure. Do it even if you think its stupid, you can totally just scroll over them, that's still enough that it works

Check your vitamin D and B levels if you can. Vitamin D is often a factor in seasonal depression, and vitamin Bs can help with energy too.

Btw, this is not meant to convey some toxic positivity agenda. You don't need to suppress negative emotions or pretend to not be depressed. This is mostly measures to help against the seasonal depression part of what you might feel, and to help make it less. Because having seasonal depression on top of everything else is frankly just rude, and these tipps helped me in the past, so i hope they can help other people too.

The main points are enrichment in your enclosure, compensating for the lack of sunlight, and trying to associate positive emotions with this time too, at least a little bit, to balance the negative ones out some.

You can treat my list as some sort of experiment, or like me try to gaslight the seasonal depression by going "I can't hear you over my apple pie bitch". All up to you. This is also meant as a toolkit. Do as little or much as you want, see what ideas work for you or what you have the energy for.

Best wishes and good luck to all my fellow seasonal depression people

[corner-stories]

little thief

Calem. Serena. Chespin.

Swords. Ale. Medieval Times.

2882 words.

(ao3.)

For once in his life, Calem — Squire to the esteemed Sir Wikstrom and a potential Knight-to-be — could not do his job.

In his right hand was a dagger, an ornate tool that was far too beautiful to be wielded by a bastard like him. His fingers were grasped around it so tightly that the wire-wrapped handle was pushing deep lines into his skin.

In his left hand was the creature who had been raiding the kitchens of Shabboneau Castle. It was barely a foot tall and had a brown body, its head was green and what appeared to be its ears looked rather spiky. Calem held it by the scruff of its neck while a blissful smile remained on its face, apparently unaware of what was going on around it. The cooks and servants called it a Chespin — in their eyes it was a vile little parasite that had snuck in from nature to feast on the Castle’s supply of cheese and grapes and oats. Once the head Chef caught the little vermin, he handed it to Sir Wikstrom’s Squire and told him to get rid of it like a good Knight-to-be would.

So there Calem stood, holding his Master’s dagger to the throat of a creature that was happily staring at him with the beadiest eyes he had ever seen.

Calem’s hand was shaking. His usual stoic facial expression was turning into a look of fear. His heart was beating fast like a warrior’s would before a battle. His breathing was exceedingly rough and uneven.

Moments passed and Calem came to a conclusion that would lead to the best outcome for him and the Chespin.

He sighed and put the dagger in the sheath on his belt. He then held the Chespin properly, letting it lean against his shoulder like it was a newborn babe. With a sigh, he walked out of one of the castle’s many many spare rooms and went into the hallway. As Calem weaved through the other servants and workers of Shabboneau Castle, the Chespin was wagging its tail in utter excitement.

As they walked, Calem asked the little thing if it had any idea on what was going on, as if he was speaking to a human and not the pester that had been raiding the kitchens of Shabboneau Castle.

…

…

…

Calem took Chespin to the castle gardens, where it could at least roam free amongst the flora and fauna and perhaps play with the other creatures who lived there. As nice as the place was, King AZ seldom spent time outdoors, much preferring the company of his Court or a pitcher full of wine.

Calem grabbed an apple from one of the trees and gave it to Chespin. Knowing that the fruits were not deemed fresh enough for those of Royal blood, he was sure that neither him nor Chespin would face punishment for such an act.

“This should tide you through the day,” Calem said as he held the apple to Chespin’s mouth. The creature eyed the fruit curiously, giving it a few cautionary sniffs before taking a nibble. After tasting the morsel, Chespin grinned and looked at the apple in its paws, happily chewing on it like an emperor would to a lavish feast.

Calem grinned. “Probably tastes a lot better than table scraps.”

As Chespin ate, the young Squire took the creature to the farthest end of the castle gardens. There he set the little thing down. Once on the ground, Chespin dropped the core from its paws and looked up at Calem with curiosity in its inky black eyes.

Calem gave Chespin a polite nod, then began to walk away. He only took about two steps before hearing the creature prodding after him. He was quick to turn around and hold his hand out.

“No, you can’t come back with me. My Master would never allow it. Now shoo!”

Chespin seemed saddened, as if its entire world had shattered right then and there. Calem could not ignore the way Chespin looked at him, but knowing his orders he guessed that it would be the safer thing for both of them if they went their separate ways.

So firmly, Calem turned around once more and walked back towards Shabboneau Castle, doing his best not to think of the rather adorable creature that had somehow grown fond of him.

…

…

…

With a Tourney coming up, Calem was hard at work helping his Master get prepared. Being one of Kalos’s most esteemed knights, Sir Wikstrom prided himself on his prowess as a warrior. He needed to be in fighting shape to compete with the region’s much younger Knights, so five days a week he gave Calem a blunted longsword and ordered him to fight back, asking that the Squire never go easy on him.

In terms of swordsmanship, Calem still had a long way to go. He was much better than he was a year ago, when Sir Wikstrom decided to have a mere stable boy act as his Squire. Back then he swung the sword like it was a stick and he was a child playing make-believe, causing Sir Wikstrom to immediately leave him lying on his rear end in the midst of the castle courtyard. He would usually follow this up by saying Calem was better at sword sharpening than fighting.

But after months of practice, Calem was able to last longer in the one-on-one sparring duel against this master. Of course, Sir Wikstrom was able to win nine times out of ten, but Calem was capable of getting some clever strikes and thrusts in here and there.

As a result of the increased training schedule, Calem’s every muscle began to ache. Morning and night he felt the strain of his days in his arms and legs. He felt it even in the midst of the simplest tasks, such as shining shoes or fetching water and wine for his master.

Two days before the tourney Calem was in the castle courtyard. Despite his pain, he felt himself willing to power through it for the sake of some extra sword practice. With a blunted two-handed sword in his grasp, he unleashed his wrath upon a sparring dummy. Said target was propped upright and tarnished from years of practice, as much more qualified and skilled warriors had honed their craft on it. The strikes the mere Squire was giving out would probably do a fraction of the damage already done.

Although Calem preferred thrusts in the midst of sword fights, he was adamant that he practice his strikes and cuts as well. Even if thrusts were more effective to exploit the gaps in an opponent's armour, Calem did not want to neglect that area of combat. Knighthood may have been a mere dream to bastards like him, but he could at least try to aspire to the ranks of the highborns.

Calem was not alone when he practiced. Sitting on a stack of wooden crates was Serena — King AZ’s Royal Cup Bearer and yet another orphaned Kalosian bastard employed at Shabboneau Castle.

Unlike Serena, Calem had not grown up in a Lumiose children’s home before getting sold to the Castle. Instead he roamed the rocky streets of Ambrette Town in his youth after the loss of his parents — his unwed mother had worked in a tavern and died of an illness when he was young; he never knew his father, but it was fair to say that the man was one of the hundreds of soldiers who died in one of the Kalos-Galar conflicts. At this point there had been so many scuffles that it was hard to know which exact battle the man had perished in.

Calem came to the Castle when he was caught stealing bread from a merchant’s stand, having been given to the authorities and sent to work as Shabboneau’s Royal Stable Boy as punishment. Hopefully now he had atoned for his dreadfully benign sin of stealing a single bun, his Master certainly thought so before promoting him to Squire.

Serena was roughly his age — fifteen and somewhat gawky despite her youth. Her hair was the colour of honey and was often braided to be kept clean. When she was not enabling King AZ’s wine habit, she was exploring the gardens or spending time with Calem. He wasn’t sure if it was because she actually enjoyed his company (if so, then he would seriously begin to mistrust her judgement) or if because bastards and orphans often stuck together.

As Calem practiced his strikes on the dummy, Serena seemed keen on keeping her eyes on him. She had a cup of ale in one hand and in the other a palm-sized pie filled with onions and parsnips and mushrooms and turnips, which was one of the more luxurious foods that servants were permitted to eat. She took a sip of her drink, then asked Calem:

“Where is your Master now?”

Calem hit the head of the dummy, letting out a gravely grunt as his sword made contact. “He is bathing,” he answered without looking away.

Serena grinned cheekily. “And he didn’t need you to wipe his bum?”

Calem stopped swinging for a second to give her an unamused glare. Sometimes her wry humour took a bit of getting used to. “Evidently so,” he replied in the driest tone he could muster.

“What’s our esteemed King doing now?” he then asked, going back to hitting the dummy. “I thought he would need his Royal Cup Bearer at all hours of the day.”

“Our Majesty is sleeping off a Royal Headache,” Serena claimed. She rolled her eyes, then took a bite of her pie. “Sometimes I think I do my job too well.”

As Calem continued to strike the dummy, Serena held out her cup of ale towards him. With a nod, he retracted his weapon and took the drink in his hand. “Thank you,” he said, then took a hearty pull from the vessel.

The bitter taste of the cloudy ale came to him as a welcome relief. Even after trying some of the finer wines that Kalos had to offer (as it was a perk of Squirehood), Calem always felt more at home with a frothy mug in his hand.

Serena noticed Calem’s evident fondness for the brew and smirked. “At this rate you’ll be Sir Calem: Knight of Amber Ale and Form-Fitting Hose.”

Humoured, Calem gave her a sly look as he glanced down towards his legwear. Like many other Squires and Knights and Soldiers, he donned a slim pair of hose to allow for better movement during his daily routine. On occasion he would overhear the female servants expressing their appreciation for such garments. Seemingly in the vein of that, Serena saw it fit to express her own thoughts regarding Calem’s choice in clothing — only her comments were a lot more playful and friendly but mostly sassy.

“I better be,” Calem replied with a comical air of boldness. “I’m sure the fair maidens of Kalos will appreciate the view.”

The two shared a laugh, then Calem handed her the cup of ale back and returned to his training. He was sure that had the dummy been a living person they would most definitely be dead by now. Either that or severely injured to the most hellish extent.

For a moment the two just remained as they were — Calem furthering his attempt at Knighthood and Serena lounging without a care in the world. They may have been not feasting until dawn or being entertained by court jesters, but even the lowborns had ways of enjoying their spare time.

After a few moments passed and Serena was close to finishing off her meal, she glanced down and noticed something peculiar on the ground of the castle courtyard. She swallowed her final mouthful of buttery pie crust and let out a hum.

“Look over there.”

Calem’s sword collided with the head of the dummy with a mighty force — with his hand still on the grip and the blade still touching the target, he glanced down to see what had Serena’s undertunic in a twist.

Hiding behind an empty wooden wine barrel was Chespin. Its ears were perked up and its eyes showed off an air of curiosity. It stared at the pair of bastards, then looked to Calem in particular.

“Friend of yours?” Serena asked.

“In a way,” the Squire replied. He lowered his sword and handed it to her, then knelt down towards Chespin to look the green and brown creature in the eye. “Hello there, are you lost again?”

Seeing as Chespin was not capable of human speech, it simply walked towards Calem with a clumsy waddle and pressed itself against his shin, wrapping its arms around the limb in an adorable attempt at a hug.

Confused, Calem blinked. “Uh… I’m afraid I’ve run out of apples, Little Imp.”

The grin upon Serena’s face was bright like the sun. “Awww…” she cooed. “It likes you.”

Calem nodded, his bewilderment persisting. “Yes, I can see that.” He knelt down and picked Chespin up, holding the creature with as much care as he did before. He looked the little one in the eye and tickled its stomach like how a mother would to her beloved child. “You’re a real clingy one, aren’t you?”

Serena hopped off the stack of crates and set her cup down. She approached the two and began petting Chespin’s head. “I think it just  wants a friend,” she said. “Is the little thief that was running through the kitchens?”

Calem nodded. “Indeed — I released him in the gardens and thought he’d be on his way, I suppose I was wrong.”

Serena scratched behind Chespin’s ears, something that the creature seemed to appreciate. “That doesn’t seem like a bad thing, maybe he wants to be a Knight like you.”

Despite the look of contentedness tugging at his face, Calem felt a pang of worry at the bottom of his stomach. “I’m not sure if Sir Wikstrom would let it be, there are no laws allowing Squires to have creatures with them.”

“But are there any laws stopping Squires from having them?” Serena brought up, playfully smirking at her friend.

For a second Calem began to think — in his head he ran through the various laws of Squirehood that the Knights of Kalos had created in the days of yore. Most of them pertained to public drunkenness and the importance of keeping a Kalosian Knight neatly groomed, but none of them applied to the current situation at hand.

Calem glanced to Chespin, who was currently snuggling its face into the crook of his elbow, smearing green grass stains all over his favourite gambeson. Despite the hesitancy, he gave the little one a grin and lifted the creature high above his head, its tiny feet excitedly swishing through the air.

“I suppose a few days together wouldn’t hurt.”

When Calem brought Chespin down again, he let the creature climb on his shoulder, where it was very glad to be. It settled itself on the top of his head, looking down at its new friend with absolute joy. “I suppose even Squires need Squires sometimes,” he decided, knowing full well that he had made the right choice.

For a few seconds, the pair of bastards beamed at the new creature in their presence… only for the moment to be ruined by Chespin tugging on Calem’s hair.

The Squire’s eyes widened as the creature’s claws grasped onto his dark black locks. “Oh… oh Yvetal, please don’t do that,” he tried, reaching up to get Chespin off his head.

Serena was quick to help, swiftly stepping over and taking Chespin by the scruff of its neck “Whoa, slow down there, most humans don’t like that.”

Once the matter was dealt with and Chespin had let go of Calem’s hair, the Squire sat down on the stack of crates, his newfound friend snuggling onto his lap.

Humoured and exasperated, Calem let out a sigh and then smiled. “We’ve got a few boundaries to discuss, don’t we?”

Serena laughed as Chespin and Calem got to know each other more. Moments passed, then she looked to her left hand, noticing that she had still been holding the Squire’s blunted longsword during all this time. Curiously,  she lifted up the weapon and felt its weight in her arms. It was lighter than she expected, or maybe her body was simply harder where a Lady’s would be soft. Perhaps her years of labouring in the Castle had amounted to something after all.

Grasping the longsword in both hands — one by the crossguard and the other by the pommel, just like Calem had taught her — the weapon immediately became more maneuverable. She raised the mighty sword upwards just like Calem did, positioning her feet apart in preparation to throw out a strike.

From where he was sitting on the crates, Calem watched in intrigue and amusement. “You like that sword, don’t you?”

“Who wouldn’t?” Serena said with a confident grin. It was as if merely holding the weapon imbued with the power of Yvetal and Xerneas’s forces combined.

With a tight grip on the handle, Serena brought her sword down and struck the head of her dummy with all of her strength.

[beyond-the-mirror]

Red Riding Hood and the Red Devil - Dante x Reader (200 Followers Special)

Just recently I was navigating tumblr when I realized that my current follower account was already above 200 and I was like “… whaaat?”

I want to take this chance to thank you all for your support and the positive reception of my beloved works Nocturnal Encounters and Music of the Night. Your feedback DOES MEAN A LOT to me and I want to encourage you to leave as many comments as you want so I know how to keep improving myself and my writing skills. And also thank you for reading my random, spontaneous headcanons that I know you didn’t ask for but I still provided just ‘cause.

Anyways, I dedicate this story to all of you. It will be divided in three parts and let me warn you now that part two and three will be quite spicy. 👀

WIthout further ado, let’s head into this story! 

Part Two - Part Three

……….

Part One

When your neighbors entered your bistro that morning, you definitely weren’t expecting the news they were about to deliver you.

Your grandmother was shopping at the market, going on her daily routine as always, when she suddenly collapsed in the middle of the crowd. Luckily the doctors managed to give a proper diagnosis, nothing than couldn’t be cured  normally with the proper treatment and a lot of rest. The problem laid on the advanced age of your dear grandma, her weak complexion being a potential catalyst for the illness to worsen shall she not receive extensive care and attention.

She was the only family you had left, your parents died during your teenage years and she had no other children beside your mother. Hiring a personal nurse was out of question, with the medicines already taking much of your modest income. With no other option available, if someone had to step up to this task, it had to be you.

As soon as the apple pie you had baked cooled down a bit, you packed it in your basket along several other home-cooked meals and the elixir bottles the doctors prescribed. With everything properly packed, the only thing left was waiting for the carriage to arrive.

A knock on the door signaled the coachman’s arrival. Before heading out, you quickly put on your favorite cape to protect you from the chilly air outside. You had acquired it years ago as a present from your grandma, a handmade cape colored in the most vibrant and dazzling crimson you had ever seen, only the richest roses gardened with the utmost care could compare to the beautiful garment in any way. You would always wear it during fall and winter, always making sure it never got damaged or torn. Because of it, everyone you knew in the little city you lived lovingly nicknamed you ‘Red Riding Hood’.

Thanking sincerely the short staff that worked by your side, you hugged each one of them before departing, may heaven bless them for their unconditional support during this hard time of yours. As soon as they heard the news, they immediately stepped up without question, offering their total help to keep the bistro running in your place so you could focus completely in your grandmother’s treatment. They were amazing and trustworthy people, your business was indeed in rather good hands.

With one last goodbye, you climbed onto the carriage. The plan was very simple: you would stay at your grandma’s as much as she required, only returning to the city for supplies and her prescribed elixir when needed. She lived not too far away by foot, her house being at the outskirts of the neighboring village, but considering you were carrying a basket full of food and a suitcase, going by carriage was definitely the better choice.

“Everything will be fine.” You assured yourself, grasping the front of your cape as if holding on to that sense of security.

……….

“I’m sorry Miss but we can’t keep going. The road is blocked.”

“Blocked? What happened?”

You were wondering why the carriage stopped so suddenly. As you got out, the answer laid clearly right in front of you.

A rockslide was blocking the ample road ahead and stopping all travelers from going any further. It was such an odd sight, there had been no storms or earthquakes recently for the steep to be weakened to such length. Everyone present was utterly baffled, just what exactly happened here?

“I’m afraid it will take a few weeks to fix the road.” Added the coachman, his tone full of sorrow since this incident was definitely going to affect his job. “There’s nothing we can do to keep going. We must go back.”

No. You were not going back. Your grandma needed you and there’s no way you were going back. “What about the forest? If this passage surrounds it, then by walking straight from here we should eventually make it to the road again, am I correct?”

A worried expression took over the coachman. “You are indeed correct Miss, but please don’t go there. The forest is too dangerous, many people have gone missing and the locals always warn not to enter under any circumstance.”

“You are very kind sir, but my family needs me. You don’t need to come with me.” You handed him the accorded payment for his service. “Thank you for your service, you may go back to your family now.”

The old man gulped “In that case Miss, there’s something you must know if you insist on continuing.” Reaching into his leather bag, he fished out a small compass as well as a map, which he proceeded to unroll. “According to this map, the portion of the forest you need to cross is actually quite short, which means you should be able to get out in no time as long as you walk in a straight line. Please, I beg you to take this compass with you, it has a small charm embedded on the back for protection.”

The look the man was giving made it impossible for you to refuse, not to mention that the compass would definitely come in handy. After he unloaded your stuff and climbed unto his seat, you thanked the kind man once again. “Please take care Miss. I will pray for your safe return.” With those words, he bid you farewell and returned home.

……….

Red Grave Woods was quite an enigmatic and feared forest to everyone who knew about it. It may appear silent and peaceful to those who didn’t know any better, and that misjudgment almost always lead to rather tragic consequences.

You walked in a hurry across the woods, hood over your head and never once looking back. One of your hands tightly clutched the front of your cape, once in a while letting go to briefly check the compass encapsulated within its grasp. You did your best to keep a cool mind, just like the coachman mentioned ‘the portion you need to cross is actually quite short’.

‘Just a little more. Just a little more.’ You repeated mentally over and over. It would be over soon. Sooner than you thought. However, you couldn’t help but feel as if something could happen to you at any time, you knew just how vulnerable you were by going all alone into the woods.

And the pair of glowing red eyes watching over you knew it too.

In just an instant, the temperature drastically dropped, making you stop dead in your tracks. Your heart pounded in your chest so loudly that you thought it was going to explode.

Clutching your cape and the minute compass, you whispered a short prayer to try and calm yourself down. You reminded yourself ‘Don’t turn back. Whatever you do, don’t turn back.’

“You know it’s quite rude to turn your back on someone, don’t you?”

A deep distorted masculine voice had just called you from right behind, leaving a deadly silence taking over the ominous woods. Not even the wind dared howl any longer.

You stood frozen in place, refusing to look back or even acknowledge the mysterious presence behind.

“Not to mention it is straight up an offense to trespass into another’s home without an invitation. Aren’t you quite the naughty girl?”

‘Don’t look back, (Y/N). Under any circumstance, do not look back.’

“Come on little red lady. Let me see your pretty face.” His warm breath tickled the back of your neck, sending chills down your spine. Well, whoever this creature was, you might as well face him. Whatever fate you were about to meet, at least you would do it upfront.

Very slowly did you turn. “Ahhh there she is!”

You kept your eyes closed as you faced him, until you finished gathering enough courage to finally flutter them open. Before you stood a tall anthropomorphic creature, a man covered head to toe in a dark scaly armor with a burst of red energy on the center of his chest, magma rivers traveling along the cracks between the many scales and ridges of his body. He had a set of thick red wings curled down and bellow his arms, resembling a coat of sorts. Four red horns protruded from his head backwards, accompanied by a set of short white spikes on top of his head and another bellow his chin. His blood red eyes were fixated on you, and his lips formed a smirk that revealed two rows of sharp fangs.

This demon towered over you, he could easily toy with you and crush you like an ant whenever and however he wanted, yet he simply stood there staring at your form.

“What do you want?” you inquired the beast, trying your best not to show any weakness or hint of fear.

The demon chuckled at your false bravado. “I should be the one making that question. Didn’t your parents teach you not to play in the scary woods? A big bad wolf could attack and gobble you up in one single bite, or should I say a big bad devil?”

Was he being playful? By his mocking tone you concluded that he was merely toying with you like a cat would a mouse, and oh how that infuriated you so.

“I’m afraid I do not have time to humor a stranger. I have an urgent matter to attend to, so whatever it is that you want with me you will tell me right now.”

“Oooh a feisty one.” Truth be told, he was impressed with your attitude. No wonder you had caught his eye, you were definitely entertaining him. “But sadly that won’t do you much help, oh no.”

The demon circled you, scrutinizing you with his glaring eyes. “And what is that supposed to mean?” You followed him with yours, not trusting him enough with your back towards him.

The creature hummed “This forest consumes, my little red lady. Many, many horrors have made this place their home; shadows who love preying on the innocent, especially on little innocent girls playing in the woods. Oh, how they love those in particular.”

“And let me guess. You are one of those horrors.”

His chest rumbled with laughter “Actually, this is your lucky day little one. For it turns out, I may just be the kindest demon you will ever encounter in this cruel world.” The devil gave a dramatic bow to you, his ruby eyes staring at you before giving you a charming wink.

You huffed at the devil’s strange demeanor. There was nothing trustworthy about him, but it’s not like you could run away easily. The best course of action would be indulging him in this game of his, only then perhaps you’ll find a small chance to survive.

The red devil took notice on the way you kept your basket close to you, and he wondered the reason why. A short breeze blew, and the red devil was no longer in front of you.

“Now I’m curious to know what do you keep in this thing of yours. Whatever it is, it smells delicious!” His voice was now behind you, and in his hands he held… your basket! But how? When did he-?

The demon sniffed as he held your basket to his face. He could make out the rich aroma of fruits, herbs and spices; his mouth watering at the positively delicious food inside.

“Hey! Give that back right now!” You immediately tried snatching it back, only for him to lift it beyond your arms reach thanks to his incredible height. He simply ignored your struggling form and opened the lid, and sure there were several kinds of prepared meals that looked utterly delightful. Herb-crusted pork loin, sweet apple pie, homemade pizza (his favorite human food, and with no olives! ) and… suspicious-looking purple bottles? He picked one of those with a clawed hand to examine it up close.

“Huh. What do you keep in this weird bottles eh? They smell kinda funny.”

Before he could possibly break them, you managed to snag the one he was holding. “Those are elixirs! Now unhand that basket this exact moment!”

“An elixir… What do you need this medicine for?”

He watched the way you frowned, eyes now with a hint of worry. “My grandmother… she’s terribly ill. She’s the only family I have left. I need to take care of her, otherwise she…” No. Now was not the time for tears. Show no weakness in the presence of a demon.

To your surprise, the red devil actually returned your basket, with him now knowing the reason why you were walking so hurriedly before.

“Why are you holding your tears, little one?”

By the time you realized, the mysterious creature was now kneeling before you, one of his claws gently catching a stray tear that managed to escape your eye. Despite being an entity of fire, brimstone and flames, the warmth he emitted wasn’t scorching, on the contrary, it was inviting and comforting.

“Because sitting and crying won’t make a difference, it won’t save my grandma. I must stay strong and keep moving forward.” It was hard, but you managed to keep your composure.

The red devil hummed, his chest rumbling and purring. “Let me offer you a deal then.” He got back on his feet before continuing. “I shall be your guide and guardian in this forest so you can make it to your grandma’s house unscathed and with no unsolicited attacks from the local demons. How’s that?”

You quirked an eyebrow towards him. He was willing to what now? “What? You’re giving me your protection just like that? Surely there’s something you want in return considering how cunning and deceiving your kind is.” He may seem nice, but there was no way he would offer something without expecting an exchange for another, it’s how demons were and always will be.

“And you are absolutely correct about that, little red lady, very insightful indeed. Now now, what could I possibly ask from you? Mmm…” with a finger on his lips, the creature made a show of pondering his request. A snap of his fingers signaled that he had made up his mind. “Got it! Actually it’s something really simple, but very fun.”

He came closer to you, hooking a clawed finger under your chin and tilting your head upwards so you could meet his gaze. “How about…” he leaned down, his breath fanning over your lips. “… a kiss?”

You immediately pulled away, a crimson blush bright on your cheeks and nose tip. How dare he make advances on you? And during the dire situation you were going through?

The demon simply laughed at your reaction, amused by the indignant scowl you were giving him. “C’mon little one, it’s only a tiny peck I’ll be giving you. It could be on your cheek, if you are feeling unsure about it.” Another wink from him. Was this creature for real?

“Ugh! You sly devil.” Such insolence! It seemed that this little game of his would not stop… yet you remembered what you told yourself before, the best course of action is to indulge this demon for better chances at survival. “… Fine. Just go ahead.”

His smirk evolved into a full wolfish grin and once again, he towered over you while you did your best to avoid his eyes. First he leaned down, taking his time to smell your scent. It was sweet, intoxicatingly so, with floral hints then and there. After a few seconds of silence, you felt his lips press against the flushed skin of your cheek. They were surprisingly soft and plump, staying there for what felt like an eternity. When he pulled away, you almost missed his warmth and proximity.

“There. It wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Your blush deepened. No, it definitely wasn’t so bad after all.

“So. If we are about to continue together, I think it’s only fair you give me your name. I want to know who is my traveling companion this nice morning.”

This time it was you who smirked. “Only if you tell me yours first. Since I’m obviously at a disadvantage, if I give you my name now, it would only grant you even more power over me. You go first.”

“Not bad, little red lady. Not bad at all.” Oh you were incredibly smart, the oldest tricks in the demon book would definitely not work with you. He had just met you and he already liked you, his intuition was right when he witnessed you entering the forest with determination in your steps.

“You may call me Dante.” He took one of your hands, lifting it to his lips and placing a soft kiss at your knuckles. “How should I call you, little red riding hood?”

You smiled at him, this time it was a sincere genuine smile “You may call me (Y/N).”

[mapowrites]

Misericórdiae (Erwin Smith/OC)

Chapter 3: Shepherd's Pie

[ I ] [ II ] 

(Art by https://twitter.com/tegamihiraku?lang=en)

He had liked the smell of the rain. But after today, it smelt of guilt and tragedy.

He stood aimlessly; his Sunday clothes soaked through from the rain. His eyes blank, he read the plate over and over again. He was too numb to cry. Too stupefied to process the situation.

‘Here lies Christopher Smith. 778-825. May he rest in peace.’

Three hours had passed since the burial, but the little blond boy was paralysed to his spot, towering over the tombstone. Some of the adults around him had tried to get him to leave with them under their umbrellas, uttering words of condolences. But moving meant that he would have to carry on. Moving meant he would have to continue his life without his father. Moving would mean that he accepted his father’s death. So he stayed perfectly still, thinking that if he didn’t move, all of this would go away as fast as it had happened.

He, alone, remained with his father.

“Erwin,” a friendly voice cooed. From the corner of his eye, he spotted a man squatting beside him. “Let’s go home. My wife made shepherd’s pie for dinner.”

His mouth refused to function despite his brain’s command. He continued to stare at the fresh grave, his soul absent from his eyes. He felt the man staring a hole into him for several minutes.

“Papa, what’s wrong with him?” Erwin heard an infantile voice grow closer. He watched a small girl no older than five years approach her father from his peripheral vision.

“Shh,” her father, who he recognised as Mr. Reichart, hushed her. He had been his father’s close friend. “Erwin is not feeling well.”

“Why not?”

“His heart is hurting.”

His heart, his lungs, his brain, his stomach, his skin was hurting. Everything felt poisoned.

A few minutes passed before his view of his father’s grave was suddenly blocked by a blur of white. When his eyes focused, he found a white Camellia flower in front of his nose. Blinking, he took the flower into his hand, bringing the infant into his view. Her bright honey eyes were the first bit of colour he had seen in days.

“Sometimes when I’m hurting, I count the petals on the flowers,” she said very matter-of-factly. “When I’m done counting, I don’t feel sad anymore. Then, I eat shepherd’s pie to scare the sadness away.”

The little girl stood beside him and held his hand. She peered over the flower in his hand and started counting. He listened to her count, her small finger pointing at the different petals. Erwin was lulled into a trance as she counted.

By the time she reached twenty-eight, Erwin began to see colour again.

--

Lyor peered at the immensity of the blue sky in the open fields, taking a bite out of her apple. The sky was so beautiful without any walls obstructing it. She wondered when she would finally be able to cruise the sky; alone and free up in the clouds. She wanted to see what life looked like as a bird.

“Head’s up!”

Lyor barely had the time to get up and run away as one of her mates, Max, hit the ground running from the air. He was attached to a box kite glider, his hands gripping the wooden bars. She watched him slowly come to halt, carefully tipping the giant fabric and wooden wings onto the ground. “Forty-three seconds of airtime! And I stuck the landing!” Max exclaimed, untying the leather belts that buckled him into the prototype glider.

“Congrats!” Lyor called to him, sarcasm in her voice. She walked over to him. “Too bad you didn’t fly more than five meters off the ground and flew straight into a titan’s crotch!”

“Hey, just because we’re not using this model right now doesn’t mean we should stop practicing with it,” Max responded. Lyor helped him unlatch the bindings of the box kite glider.

Lyor looked around, pretending not hear Max. “I’m sorry, do you hear someone talking? Oh, wow, I didn’t know dead people could still speak after being devoured by a titan.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Max copied her tone and started circling the contraption for any damage. “I didn’t know people scared of flying could become aeroplane engineers.”

Lyor rolled her eyes and helped Max fold the glider in half. He laughed, his teeth showing underneath his thick moustache.

“Did you try out the gas valves on the wings?” She asked, finishing her apple.

“I did; it weighed the whole thing down. We’ll have to try something else,” Max responded, taking off the series of belts and latches he was wearing. “But I gotta say, this 3DMG latch setup works like a charm!”

Lyor frowned. “You better return that to the scout before he leaves. He’ll need it for the way back.”

The brunette watched him light his umpteenth cigarette of the day. The middle-aged man shrugged. “I don’t think Wilhelm’s going to send him home on his own.”

“Why not?”

“I overheard him talking to Smith about how screwed his ankle is. Heinrich wants to give it at least another day. We’ll be leaving by that time regardless — might as well have a scout escort us home,” Max began packing his equipment into a crate. A movement caught his eye and he nodded his head in its’ direction. “Speak of the devil. I think your old man wants you.”

Lyor twisted around to find her father waving her over a few hundred meters away before disappearing into the dense forest bush. She turned back to Max. “Need any more help?”

“Nah,” he replied, his breath smoky. “I’m almost done. I’ll meet you back at camp. Rick is somewhere around, too.”

Lyor nodded and headed back to their campground. She entered the forest bush and began hiking up a steep hill. She thought about what Max had told her. Her father had been so stern about taking in this soldier, and suddenly he wanted to keep him close? He must’ve known this guy really well, she thought.

Lurching up the almost 60 degree incline, she steeled herself for the last few meters up the hill. Finally, she reached the top, panting, where she found her group’s campground. Four tents were erected in a circle around a campfire, their horses grazing leisurely the grass. It was the perfect vantage point; they could see for miles and miles for incoming titans, their camp peeking just enough out of the woods. From here, they also had access to a prime launching area for their gliders and planes.

“Look at it, woman! I told you not to touch the vapour turbine!” Lyor watched Heinrich and Faye squabble over a leaking steam engine, wrenches held up in the air, ready to strike.

Faye, a lanky girl in her late teens, waved her slender arms in the air in exasperation. “If I hadn’t released the pressure vapour, we’d both be two roasted kebabs right now!”

“Oh, the exaggeration!” Heinrich slammed his wrench onto the ground, stomping over to his workbench.

Lyor’s smile quickly dissipated at the realisation that all of their materials and equipment were sprawled out in the open. Her father had specifically told them to keep their crap out of sight, in case the soldier saw. Now suddenly, Heinrich and Faye had one of their steam engines out on display. This made her walk faster towards Erwin’s tent, where her father and the latter surely waited for her. She knew the two men had planned to catch up this afternoon; her father had requested it the night before when Erwin and he reunited. With Erwin being too exhausted to handle much, last night’s introductions were cut short after her father had interrupted.

Lyor knocked on the wooden crate placed outside Erwin’s tent, and her father’s voice allowed her to enter. She pushed through the fabric and entered the tent, revealing two men sitting at the wooden table. Her eyes locking with his sapphire gaze, she was surprised to see Erwin out of bed. He nodded politely at her, and she smiled politely back. He was wearing a clean, navy button up shirt tucked into a pair of grey fabric pants — surely borrowed from her father or Max, who had similar builds. His blond hair was combed but still looked a little messy to her with his bangs falling in front of his eyes. She was also startled to see how lucid his regard was compared to last night. Must’ve had a good rest, she noted.

“Lyor,” her father snapped her out of her curious stare. “Have a cup of tea with us, would you?”

Her lips pulled into another diplomatic smile and she nodded. She walked over to the table and pulled a chair out, sitting between the two men who sat on either end of the table. Her father silently slid a cup of tea over to her.

“Erwin, this is my daughter, Lyor,” Wilhelm stated. Lyor pretended not to feel the blond’s gaze on her as she cupped her hands around her mug. “You must remember her. You two were quite close when you stayed with our family, even if you stayed only for a few months.”

With raised eyebrows, Lyor looked at her father, mouth opening to ask what on Earth he was talking about. He beat her to it.

“Lyor, this is Erwin Smith. I was his father’s best man. When Erwin was ten, his father died, and we took him in for a few months.”

“Oh,” Lyor cheerlessly turned her gaze to Erwin who watched her with a small smile. Her brows knit in embarrassment. “I’m so sorry. I don’t remember you.”

Her father chuckled. “You were only four years old.”

“I only remember you handing me a flower at my father’s funeral,” Erwin admitted, firmly holding her gaze. She squirmed in her seat under his intimidating stare; his penetrating sapphire eyes commanding her utmost attention. “You had also told me that the secret warding off sadness was to eat shepherd’s pie.”

Lyor bit her lip and laughed embarrassedly, breaking their eye contact as her face flushed. Her father snorted.

“Well, her mother did make a hell of a shepherd’s pie,” Wilhelm’s gaze softened as he watched his daughter forlornly. “Isn’t that right?”

Lyor hummed in agreement, her lip twitching into a bitter smile.

“Lyor was the one who found you collapsed in the forest,” Erwin listened carefully as Wilhelm spoke to him. “Honestly, we wouldn’t have spotted you had it not been for the glint of your sword; you were covered in mud. I’m assuming that’s why you weren’t eaten since we didn’t find any other bodies.”

Behind her cup of tea, Lyor observed Erwin’s Adam’s apple bob as he drank his tea. There was something off about him. The young man – older than she was – didn’t look particularly friendly at the mention of his fallen comrades. There was something in his face that told her he was aloof — whether it was the squareness of his jaw, or perhaps the shape of his sharp cheekbones. He was handsome, and he was difficult to read. Her eyes followed the outline of his jaw, down his stubbled cheek, to his exposed neck; he kept a few of his shirt buttons undone, surely to keep his abdominal wounds properly aired out. She swallowed hard, averting her eyes before they could greedily travel to the view of his bare chest where she had spotted the start of a gauze bandage.

“What are the odds?” Erwin commented smoothly. He caught Lyor’s eyes. “Thank you for finding me. I don’t know how to repay you.”

“Do you remember what happened to you?” Lyor pressed, dodging his politeness with a quick smile.

He exhaled pointedly through his nose and peered into his teacup. She noticed a twinge in one of his thick eyebrows as he took a moment to recall the events. “Yes, I was on an expedition with my regiment. It was pouring rain. Without much visibility in the Venhurst woods, we were easily ambushed by a group of titans and I was knocked off of my horse by one. I must’ve tumbled for at least a hundred meters before I lost consciousness.”

Lyor pressed her lips into a grim line. “No one came back to look for you?”

“I’m sure they did but as Wilhelm said, camouflaged in the mud, I was only spotted by chance,” Erwin answered. He hesitated for a few seconds before he continued to speak. “But I’m relieved it turned out this way.” Lyor watched his grip tighten around his cup. She shot him a questioning look.

“This way, I was able to witness your group’s engineering feats,” The blond confessed. “I want to help you further your research.”

Lyor’s eyes widened three times their normal size before she scrutinised her father’s expression. He offered a shrewd smirk.

“You — what did you tell him?” She demanded, appalled at her father’s judgement.

“Everything.” Wilhelm answered simply.

She stammered, “On what grounds?!”

“Lyor,” her father’s demeanour abruptly shifted. Sombrely, he continued. “Erwin’s father was tortured and killed by the military police for merely pointing out discrepancies and contradictions to his son in the history books they gave you children at school. They covered up Christopher’s murder as an accident, leaving his only son orphaned.”

The young woman confirmed this by looking over at Erwin. He didn’t meet her eyes and instead stared into his cup of tea, withdrawn.

“Erwin shares our vision and motivation,” Wilhelm punctuated. Her eyes dragged back to her father. “He’s next in line to be commander of the Survey Corps. With the Survey Corps’ funding and support, we can finally move forward with our research.”

Lyor scowled, her amber eyes burning a hole through her father.

Wilhelm sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Look, I understand this makes the group uneasy, but you have to trust me. I knew Erwin’s father very well. Not only is he the spitting image of Christopher, but what could possibly motivate him to betray us? Do you really want to remain static like we have for the past six years?”

“After what happened to mother, you decide to do this without everyone’s consent?” Lyor spoke lowly, standing assertively from her chair. Her father watched her with an icy expression, almost daring her to finish her thought. “After what happened to your wife?”

The two brunets glared at each other in forbidding silence before their attention turned to Erwin. He stood up from his chair, cooly, and with a slight limp, took two steps to be faced with Lyor. He towered over her, her nose barely reaching his chin. She glared up at him, trying to ignore the suddenly intoxicating scent of his person. She stood her ground as he looked down at her with an unreadable expression, his gunmetal eyes unwavering.

“Ms. Reichart,” his tone was unyielding, but the formality kept him distant. “You saved my life. Do you really assume me to be so treacherous? Given what the military did to my father, do you really believe that I am anything like the men who used an innocent mother as a bargaining chip?”

Lyor blanched at his words but she continued to glare at him. Father wasn’t kidding when he said he had told him everything. He searched for an answer to his questions in her eyes.

When she didn’t answer him, he continued. He leaned into her face, his eyes like burning coals that ordered her to look at him. She felt his feverish breath on her skin, and despite her fire, her heart began to race. This time, it was Erwin’s turn to smoulder, his words oozing authority, “I have nothing in common with those men.”

--

Notes:

Your comments are my writing fuel. :>

Also disclaimer: I don't know shit about planes or engineering. I also realise that planes were only invented after the invention of the steam engine and that that has yet to be introduced in this geographical area of AOT, but just pretend that steam engines have already been invented, 'kay? For the sake of Lyor and Erwin?

[goallin1shortstory]

Adriana Woody - Short Story

Hello, my name is Marvin Graves and I’m gonna tell you about how i died. Of course when i found out I was completely shocked like how could this happen to a person like me but looking back now I get to notice flaws in certain situations I didn’t see at that moment. Like how when i was fourteen and liked a girl named Candice. She had long black hair ,pale white skin ,and the rosiest cheeks. It was 2 days before homecoming and i wanted to ask her to the dance. I remember it like it was yesterday I was next to my locker 10 lockers away from Candices and very very flustered and so I walked up to Candice. Next to her stood her best friends Jenny and Janice Milton they twins and everybody loved them even the teachers. I never knew why Candice hang out with them she could do so much better the twins obviously the duplication of plastic surgery. Despite the fact that everyone loved the twins my love was only for Candice. As soon as I walked up the twins walked away in what looked like a mouth full of laughter but I didn’t care their kylie jenner plastic lips didn’t phase me. There she was. My only chance to be with my dream girl. It was now or never. I stuttered “H... H... Hey C... C... C... Candice I *cough* I was wondering if you wanted to go to homecoming with me.” She was hesitant. Candice looked down then looked up at me and smiled she said “I’d love to go to the dance with you Maven!!!” She wrote her number down on a blue index card “(773-457-009)” and said “call me.” Skipped away in her bright pink dress and I yelled out “MY NAME IS MARVIN!!!” I heard a laughter in the corner of my ear and before turning around I said “ What you laughing at?” The senior said “ You, You really think a girl like that would want to be with a boy like you

you must be insane.” I walked towards the stairs and whispered to myself “asshole.” Out of nowhere the senior pushed me down the stairs and i cracked my front tooth blood was everywhere. Homecoming day i was filled with excitement all of the thoughts flowing through my brain “WHAT IF SHE LETS ME HOLD HER HAND!! MAYBE I COULD GIVE HER A BIG OLE KISS!! OR I COULD TOUCH HER BOOB!!” I stood there at the door wearing an oversized blue suit, a face full of zits ,and a half smile because of my cracked tooth. I waited there for 45 minutes as the minutes went by I began to feel vexed. “Did she stand me up? Did she forget about me? Where is she?” After another 10 minutes and basically an hour of public humiliation I decided to go in. I walked into the snack table grabbed a cookie and a small bag of hot cheetos. It was 7:10 and the dance ended at 9:10. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to dance and have some fun.” So I ate my snacks and and made my way to the dance floor. I met a girl named Abby and we had a great time she told me she had to take the bus home and I offered her a ride in my mother’s car. It was one of the best nights of my life. The night went on and I got a text from my mom that she was outside. Abby declined my offer and said “see you later” and gave me a kiss on the cheek for goodbye. I gathered all my things and left. On my way out I noticed a couple up against the wall kissing. The boy had brown hair and up against the wall on the girl who had black hair in a ponytail and a yellow dress. They stopped kissing and headed back into the school. I accidentally tripped over a rock on the ground on to the boy with the brown hair I look up at him and noticed it was the senior to avoid confrontation I tried my best to walk away. He yelled “GET THE FUCK OFF ME WIMP I’LL BEAT YOU TILL YOU CAN’T FEEL EVERY BONE IN YOUR BODY!!!” Honestly I didn’t pay attention to what he was saying. The only thing I noticed was her. Candice. She, she stood me up. She couldn’t even look me in the eyes.

Candice had a gold yellow dress had her black in a ponytail and was trying to get the guy in the school away from me. All of a sudden everything went black. The only thing I remember is Candices ponytail in the palm of my hand and the sight of her head hit repeatedly against the brick wall of the school. There was blood everywhere tears everywhere. The guy she came with just ran away in fear. He wasn’t a real man. He didn’t even like her. I would’ve treated her right ,like a queen. She left me high and dry and this is what she deserved. Candice screamed in pain begging for mercy “PLEASE LET ME GO!! I’LL DO ANYTHING YOU WANT!!” Seconds later my mom ran out of her car as fast as she could to break grip from Candices ponytail. She peeled me off and dragged me into the car. In the car it was as cold ,dark ,and silent as a cemetery. The next morning the only thing I hear is my mother telling a officer that I didn't attend homecoming and that I stayed with her the entire night. From the on years later I dedicated my life to helping out my mom in any way possible. Took out the garbage, washed the dishes, and took the groceries in the house. This was the first time I expressed my love for anyone but not the only. When I was seventeen my mom sat me down at the kitchen table and looked me in the eyes. But it wasn’t normal I didn't see the bright caring eyes that I saw as a child. I didn't see the bright eyes that lit up the room without a blink of an eye. I saw dull grey eyes that honestly scared me. My mom came close to me and held my hand and looked even closer in my eyes and said “Cancer I have Breast Cancer Marvin.” By the tone of her voice I knew it hurt he to say it. My entire life she has shown me how much of a strong independent woman she was. I replied “W...W...What do you mean? Are you okay? You look fine. How much will treatment be?” I, I was in disbelief the only person who truly loved me would be gone in a split second. Vanished to wherever she will go but all in all not by my side forever. Call me

a momma’s boy I didn’t care she loved me, cherished me, and supported me. Usually when someone receives this type of information they cry and pray give the victim a big fat hug and tell them they will make it through but no I... I was angry why would I waste time with her just to say goodbye at the end of the day. So I pushed her off me ran to the kitchen draw and grabbed the sharpest knife. Searching for the knife I could hear my mother scream “MARVIN STOP!! YOU DON’T HAVE TO DO THIS!! I LOVE YOU!!” I replied “LIES LIES ALL LIES IF YOU’LL LEAVE YOUR GONNA GO NOW!!!” I held the knife in my right hand with a tight grip. I watched my mother cry and beg for mercy. But I couldn’t do it. So I dropped the knife grabbed by keys and and ran to my car. I put the key in the ignition and drove off. I slowed down and stopped at a diner I had 50 bucks on me and decided to get pancakes with a side of sunny side up eggs. It wasn’t as good as moms. I kept thinking of my mom I loved her but I also felt betrayed. I finished my food and headed my way out the door. Making my way out I brush past a hard leather jacket, a cold hard leather jacket. I looked up and saw a long grey beard. biker looking dude who looked frustrated and his solid black eyes pierced at me. He shoved me down and yelled “STAY OUT MY WAY KID!!!” I didn’t say a anything, I didn’t even look him in the eyes. I stood up, brushed the dirt off me, and walked out silently. I grabbed my switchblade from my back pocket and cut the tires of the motorcycle. I stabbed repeatedly and sat near the motorcycle and waited minutes for him to come out. After an hour the biker came out with two girls wrapped around him. Before he could see me I grabbed him by the beard and stabbed him in the knife. I got blood on my hands but I didn’t care. The two girls were so wasted they didn’t have a clue what was going on. One of the girls passed out and the other was trying to get a ride back to her pimp. “Hey sugar pie my name’s Nancy but all my friends call me Apple

could you pitch me a ride I’ll make it worth your while.”I ignored her and I took the walet of the biker and all the money he had on him then drove away in my car. I didn’t know where I was going I just wanted to be away from my mom, my school, my life. I traveled far till I didn’t know where I was going. I just knew I ended up in an old town with lots of campsites and only men maybe this was what I needed a slight isolation from my life. In the camp they trained me to be a man one of them. I was 19 years old and the police were still on the look for me. On televisions warning signs everywhere WANTED: Nelly Monroe, Kelly Kingston, Marvin Graves, Jeremiah Blakeview. I told the guys my name was Alex Martin so of course they wouldn’t turn me into the police. Over these 2 years I have changed. I’ve become a man. A strong man. A man filled with courage. The man. I didn’t know where my mother was or what happened to her. One day T 3:00 in the morning everybody heard sirens blasting and saw a flash of red white and blue through there blurry morning eyes but no one was frightened. Alvin the head leader walked up to th4e officer and said “What is your purpose?” Despite the fact everyone wasn’t scared I was beyond anxious and shaking but I didn’t let it show. The officer replied “We were just passing through sir, just making sure you all were safe. We have suspect to believe there is a very dangerous man here. A killer may be amongst you.” All of the men looked up and down and corner to corner questioning all around. Alvin yelled out “Go back to slumber we will address the situation when the sun rises.” Every man went back to their tent but I hid behind a bush to listen to their conversation. The officer “All of your men are in danger .” The man replied “Nonsense my men are the bravest they are the strongest they are fighter.” The officer said “I understand but he is a killer this man is completely looney.” Alvin replied “I’ll keep an eye out.” The officer left and Alvin went back to his tent to get some sleep. I headed to

the bathroom to make a decision on what to do. In my head all the idea. “Maybe I should just leave start in another town and maybe they won’t catch up to me. Or I could confess and just take the jail time like a man so many ideas. I looked myself in the mirror. “What have I done with my life?” I said silently to myself. Out of nowhere a gun was held to my head and i saw long long blonde hair perfectly curled wrapped around my shoulder. “Who is it? Who could it be? Why did they target me?” I looked up and saw those bright eyes I saw as a kid. Those eyes that lit up a room without a blink of an eye. And I smiled and after that everything went black.