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cultofdixon · 1 year

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Please, don’t leave

Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • Falling in love has its moments. With you and the youngest Dixon? Neither of you knew the other’s feelings. Life started to block that out…until the outbreak shook everyone still standing. Then as the gates opened, there you stood. • ANGST/SFW • TW: Anxiety Attacks / Past Abuse / Injuries / Scars / Canon Violence / Messy confessions • Flashbacks

Requested by: @ravenrose18

Once Y/N had finished barricading the door, she dropped her pack up against it before finally relaxing after running from a few mercenaries—at least that what she thought they were, and an approaching herd. Hence the barricading of the house she’s held up in until it passes.

She tiredly threw herself onto the couch in the room she was in, finding herself staring at the ceiling for an unknown period of time. Her exhaustion was starting to get to her the longer she laid there.

“Remember runnin’ from my old man?”

“How could I forget?” Y/N laughs bringing an arm behind her head for support. “Running from your dad was easier compared to mine. He didn’t like you”

“Mm. Yeah but at least I didn’t break your cheekbone before prom night” the youngest Dixon sat himself up against the couch fiddling with what looked to be a piece of tied string but it was a friendship bracelet he refused to wear. “Yea think you’ll make it out of here?”

“I’m still looking for you aren’t I?”

“Wouldn’t have to be looking if you didn’t run away in the first place” His words hurt, even if they were hers as she slowly fades into unconsciousness. “I’m still out there, bunny”

“You’re still out there…”

The youngest Dixon, Daryl Dixon, had one best friend in the world. Y/F/N Y/L/N. As sad as it was, you shared a lot in common with the whole abusive parent(s) making your life a living hell. But you had each other. It made life worth living having someone who understand and a gateway from the harsh reality.

But one night, Y/N ran away. From all of it. Leaving Daryl alone in the world to end up helping his brother with his illegal nonsense up until the outbreak happened. When he lost him too, he thought this was it for him.

Especially when his own arrow impaled him and the blood loss was too much.

Daryl did his best to keep awake, even if the world was sort of spinning due to the blood loss. He laid back for a moment, just a moment.

“You seem to be in a bit of a pickle, baby brother” Merle laughs kneeling to his side and resting his head in his hands. “Is this for Y/N? Searching for her again like you did countless times before we got stuck with this group”

“We…weren’t stuck with this group…they’re good people”

“That’s good. You deserve good people”

Daryl turns to the opposite side of his brother finding Y/N looking at him with that beautiful smile of hers.

“I came out here…for Carol’s daughter. She’s lost…and I can’t find her”

“She’s somewhere, D” Y/N reassures, at least what he needs to hear. “You’ll find her. And me”

“Why’d you leave” Daryl sobbed laying back into the dirt. “Why’d you leave me all those years ago…”

“Oh Daryl…” Y/N frowns bringing herself close to Daryl resting her hand on his chest. “You’re only going to hear what you want to hear…which will only be a possibility”

“Please don’t die…” He sobbed and next thing he knew, he was fighting off a walker.

The hours turned into days as Y/N didn’t know she was moved from her spot. Surprised she was even found. But when a certain someone who’s known to get in and out of places without a trace comes through the neighborhood in search for items, he managed to get into the house she barricaded herself in.

Next thing Y/N knew, she was waking in an unknown location without most of her clothes and an IV in her arm. Which only made her panic and rip the thing out. Because it’s the apocalypse, she hasn’t ran into those bastards yet. But she can believe that there are some sick fucks experimenting on healthy individuals with the undead walking around.

It didn’t click to Y/N that she wasn’t wearing pants and a shirt when she ripped the IV out and sprung up out of bed because again, she thought she was being experimented on. Being a horror fanatic in the old world sucks now. So when she stumbled out of the building…or trailer she was in. The community outside in that moment stared at her in her underwear and tank top which lead to her realization and quickly stumbling back into the trailer.

“Where the fuck am I” Y/N frowns pressing her back against the door before spotting a pile of neatly folded clothes on a chair. Something better not burst out of my chest (Alien) She thought as she approaches the clothes finding a note along with the pile but she ignored it to get re-dressed. Or a fucking little reptile jumping me and eating me alive (Jurassic Park) She groans realizing her arm was bleeding from her stupidity ripping the IV out and took note that she was in the medical trailer.

Once Y/N patched her arm up, she finally read the note that instructed her to go to the only actual house in the community to talk with whoever saved her…and more.

“Ah! You’re awake” The unfamiliar man rose to his feet approaching Y/N when she entered the Barrington House. “I should probably explain how you got here”

“If I had my knife I’d threaten it on yea to tell me that information. But I honestly just wanna know where the fuck it is” Y/N frowns as the man quickly drew himself back to the couch he was sitting on and picking up her belongings handing it all to her. “Okay…maybe I won’t threaten you for how nice you’re being. But I have questions”

“Okay, I’m here to answer them”

“Your name?”

“Paul Rovia, but everyone here calls me Jesus” Jesus smiles sitting on the arm rest of the couch watching Y/N hug her backpack. “Uhm. Yours?”

“Y/N. Just Y/N…uh. How did you find me?”

“My group and I were on a run to look for medicines and frankly anything that could help us. We have a garden going on but you can’t speed the growth to those things so yknow. Scavenging. But I went to this one house that was barricaded. Only the front door was so I found my way in and saw you lying unconsciously. You looked like you were in poor condition and we have a doctor here.” Jesus explained watching her tense shoulders relax. “Yeah he’s an OBGYN but yknow you have to go through—-“

“Residency so you explore your options before picking a specialty.”

“Well we are certainly benefitting by your presence if you are also a doctor”

“I dropped out of med school, but I know enough” Y/N shrugs. “And what makes you think I want to stay here…I…I’m kind of looking for someone” she frowns realizing how impossible that’s going to become as she makes her way to sit on the single loveseat diagonal from Jesus.

Jesus noticed the change in emotion as he thought of something that could lighten her mood. “How about we make a deal? You help out with the community, and you can come on runs with me. During those moments we can look for whoever it is that you’re looking for”

“It’s gonna be hard”

“How so?”

“He knows how to be untraceable. He’s a hunter”

“Your husband?”

I wish

________

“Why are you giving me this?” Y/N laughs a bit confused and not entirely surprised that her best friend gave her a survival multi-tool with the signature piece being the knife.

“Self defense from that bastard of a father you’ve got” Daryl scoffs taking a hit from the blunt they were sharing, as he kicked his feet at the end of the dock.

“I will keep this in mind when he hits me next…but I know I can’t win those fights”

“Well yknow to run away to the lake house if yea need me” He nudges her gently, handing the blunt to her as she took the offering then a hit after.

________

“Is he alright?”

“Just adjusting to the new people. He said he needed a minute alone” Carol tells Rick as the two were watching the archer sit in the middle of the field looking up at the stars. “I’ll check on him in a bit”

“Alright…I’m gonna turn in, keep me posted” the retired sheriff squeezes her shoulder on his way into the prison leaving her to continue watching her best friend sit alone.

Daryl frowns thinking about how she could be out there…scared and alone for all he knows. His anxiety started to eat at him while he unconsciously tugs at the bracelet he was wearing.

“Merle’s gone…you can’t be gone too”

“Who can’t be gone?”

Half expecting Carol, but was met with Carl and his curious self. Daryl shook his head ignoring the young Grimes as he plopped himself down beside him.

“How’d yea go unnoticed by Carol?”

“Oh. So you know she’s stalking you?”

“Wouldn’t call it stalkin’. She’s worried about me, I know that much”

“What exactly does she have to be worried about?” Carl asks, even more curious as he sits beside Daryl at a respectable distance. Eventually looking up at the stars and finding how calm it is.

“Promise yea won’t say anything” Daryl asks listening to the quiet yes from Carl before getting into it. “I wanna leave. Not forever. But just until I find someone”

“You lost someone out there?” Carl frowns looking at his friend watching him nod. “But what’s the issue? Knowing you it wouldn’t be that hard”

“The thing is kid? I’ve been looking for years. Way before the outbreak” Daryl frowns continuing to tug at the bracelet. “So it wouldn’t be smart to just. Wander aimlessly in a walker infested world.”

“…You think that this person is looking at the same stars we are? I can find comfort in that”

“Sometimes, yer smarter than yer old man.” Daryl laughs slightly, laying back down in the grass staring up at the stars.

“How’d you get up here?”

Y/N turns to Jesus as he found her on top of the trailer she’s currently living in. She smiles with a small laugh as she returns to looking at the stars.

“I’m not revealing my secrets”

“Well guess I ain’t sharing either cuz I think I know. Given I got up here” He laughs bringing himself to sit beside her staring up at the stars. “You thinking about that special someone?”

“Yeah. Hopefully he’s looking at the same set of stars as I am”

“Cheesy. But I like it” Jesus smiles laying back to look at the stars a bit better. “You know. Ever since you came here, you’ve been a big help with thriving the community. Maybe when this other half of yours comes by, he’s willing to also help”

“Maybe” Y/N smiles continuing to look at the stars, watching Jesus point out a shooting star.

“I bet I can guess yours and this guy’s wish”

I wish to see her again

I wish to see him again

________

As Daryl drives his truck into Y/N’s neighborhood, half expecting no activity at the hour he came by in. The other half expecting Y/N to be waiting for him on the curb. But once he turned into the cul-de-sac he was met with police sirens in front of her home. He decided to pretend he was just somebody using the road to turn around in but as he got slightly closer he noticed her mother sobbing and her father yelling at the cops they were talking to.

Even if they were abusive to the only person he cared about on the planet, Daryl couldn’t help but feel for them and realize.

Y/N chose one of her nuclear options.

It didn’t take him long to get to the lake house they would sneak off to to escape the world. Given he didn’t care for traffic laws. She didn’t have a car so that couldn’t give her away, the hue of little light they’d have from lanterns wasn’t noticeable, and honestly every sign he tried to come up with that would tell him she was there—-weren’t there.

“Y/N!” Daryl yells upon entering the place as he immediately went to the living room, then the outdoor porch, and even ran to the end of the dock. Not like it wasn’t obvious when someone would be there, but he went down the mental list of where the two hang out most.

Upon re-entering, Daryl finally noticed the little light coming from a small lantern in the kitchen. He quietly approaches it and the moment felt staged. The light hit a note written to the youngest Dixon as it was accompanied with one of those string friendship bracelets that he told Y/N a number of times that he would never wear it. But he ignored that for the time being and read the note.

I’m tired, D. I couldn’t take it anymore and I had to leave.

I love you and I’m sorry

Y/N

The tears came on strong, burning his eyes, and making him want to rub at his eyes until they stopped. But they never did.

She’s gone

________

Gone forever…huh

Jesus, of course, gets himself into trouble and especially with the main group that aren’t going to trust someone easily anymore. But with the promise of going to his community, came a road block of a few of his own getting into an accident.

“If this is another trick, hear for my whistle. And then shoot him” Rick tells Maggie watching her nod before entering the building first as the rest follow.

Leaving the two alone for a moment.

“I didn’t mean to get in trouble with your leader. My community just. Our leader got stuck in a predicament. Lost some people and supplies”

Maggie frowns lowering her weapon knowing internally he wasn’t going to do anything. Expect stand there with her, waiting for her group to help with part of his.

“You look tense. More than the start of the ride over”

“My best friend was in this group. She’s one of the only good fighters we’ve got…I’m just afraid that something worse happened to her after getting out of the crash. I made a promise to her. It will eat me alive if she died and I didn’t give the one thing she wanted out of years of knowing her”

“My family knows what they are doing”

Jesus turns to Maggie with a small smile and hoping even harder that nothing happened.

His people were simply hiding away for a moment, in hopes more of their own would come and get them. Thankful for the people that Jesus ran into.

“Come on, let’s go” Daryl tells one of his people as he held his hands up to him and Glenn but didn’t budge.

“I can’t leave without my friend. She got hurt in the crash” He nervously states watching the two look at each other for a moment but they knew they weren’t leaving without all Jesus’s people.

Abraham’s mind has been in a fog for a while that when he ran down the hall to take out a walker. He was met with a woman cowering slightly with his intense presence, especially when her life was almost met with an end.

“Sorry”

“It’s cool. I’m a. Used to it by now” Y/N’s body continued to shake as she was dealing with a bit of road rash and a head lac.

“Come on!”

No…

“Abraham, let’s go. Carry her out if she’s in shock” Glenn chimes on his way past following the man Y/N was currently fixated on the voice. Before Abraham could grab her, she immediately ran after the first voice she heard other than the man that almost killed her.

Once Y/N stepped out of the building, looking a bit like Carrie with the amount of blood on her. Most was hers. Other was…well, they are stuck in the crashed vehicle. Jesus instantly beamed.

“Oh thank fuck you’re okay Y/N”

Y/N. Wait a fucking minute Daryl quickly whipped his head toward the woman slowly and cautiously approaching him. She hasn’t really changed…except for a few more scars and her hair being longer. She was still his Y/N.

“I thought you were dead…after the first few years, I really thought you were—-“

“Daryl…I don’t. My adrenaline is fading…so it’s kind of really hard to…believe this is…real or another hallucination” Y/N stumbled a bit and before she completely collapsed, Daryl quickly caught her picking her up bridal style and going back to the RV to let Harlan take care of her with what he has.

Daryl’s eyes haven’t left Y/N’s person the entire ride back to the Hilltop. Of course the two reunite when something bad happens to one of them. But he knew she would pull through from this, she’s a fighter.

Once the RV reached the walls of the Hilltop, the group stepped out and followed Jesus inside as Daryl followed Harlan the entire time he picked up Y/N, got her out of the RV, and started to make his way to the infirmary trailer which he informed Glenn and Maggie about on the ride over. Part of Daryl stuck with his group but his mind was elsewhere when he entered the Barrington House. Expecting Jesus to point it out, Maggie did.

“Go to her, Daryl. We’ve got this much covered” Maggie tells him as his eyes looked over to Rick watching him nod. Not that he needed permission. But it was a new community to them. He also wanted to meet this leader…that was problematic all on his own.

Right as Daryl approached the trailer door, Harlan stepped out and quickly gave the archer a smile.

“Just the man I’m looking for. At least, by patient’s request”

“She’s awake?”

“Yeah and you were the first thing she asked about. She also made me make sure she wasn’t concussed…but she is a bit. So. Don’t pinch her if she asks “are you real?” or not. She’s taken more than just a head lac and road rash” Harlan warns mainly for them to be a bit careful with a more conscious reunion.

As the doctor stepped away from the trailer letting Daryl step in and stare at Y/N like he’s seen a ghost. She had the same stare toward him before breaking the silence.

“I really thought you died. But uh. Not until after a year in the outbreak”

“…why’d yea leave?” Daryl frowns, immediately touching that topic as he leaned against the adjacent wall from her seated position on the cot.

“I mean…we are adults. I shouldn’t have to sugarcoat anything to you”

“Did your dad hurt yea badly again? Or your mom? Is that why you left”

“Yes…and no. I was…heartbroken and dealing with more than just that. That I had to leave. I know now how selfish that can be given I could’ve just gone to you and we would’ve…I don’t know”

“We would’ve found a way out together” Daryl states avoiding the distance and sitting beside Y/N feeling her hand instantly rest on his knee as the look of relief in her face washed over her. He’s real. This isn’t you saying what you want to hear.

“My dad found out that I broke up with his best friend’s son, and the reason why I did…because I obviously didn’t love him or even liked him for the matter…” Y/N frowns keeping her eyes toward the ground to avoid his. “He…pulled my arm out of my socket when I tried to run away the first time. To avoid anything further, once I got it put back in…with an injured healing arm I got the fuck out of there. Couldn’t call you because I left my phone at home. Left everything he and my mother could find me with and just. Went West until I came back in hopes to talk to you…then the outbreak happened”

Daryl felt her hand tremble slightly as she pulls away but he carefully took said hand that was once on his leg and into his hand for her to squeeze.

“What was the reason…cuz yer old man would’ve just found another suitor”

“I was in love with my best friend” Her words hit him like a truck as he squeezed her hand carefully, feeling her other rest on top of their conjoined ones. “Of course he thought I was gay and I know his homophobic ass wouldn’t like that. But I corrected him. Because I wanted my family to know who my best friend was and how important he was to me that he stole my heart instantly…I was just too afraid to say anything until now”

“why didn’t you say anything sooner…or runaway to me?”

“When you go to the lake house, and hear your best friend in the throws with another woman.” Y/N felt the tears slowly fall off her cheeks as Daryl tried his best to ignore his threatening his waterline. “You didn’t want to tell him that you left for more than just your parents. You left because…you thought you would never be good enough for him”

“You’re good enough for me, you’re more than good enough” He scoffs. “I’ve always been in love with you, I was too coward to say anythin’”

“It’s been years…and you still do?…as much as me?”

“More even” Daryl lifted his head to look her in the eye as she knew she was crying but notice the stray tears that fell here and there from his own. “I never stopped looking for you. Only times I did was when I was runnin’ from the horrors of the old and new world. But you never left my mind. All I wanted was to be with you.”

“And here we are” Y/N sobbed pressing her forehead against his, feeling the cot shift when he brought himself closer wrapping his arm around her. She eventually brought both her arms around him moving her face to the crook of his neck as Daryl caged her in his embrace keeping mind of her injuries even if she first didn’t care about them.

“Please, don’t leave me again”

“I’m stuck to you like glue, D. I’m never leaving again”

#the amount of times I deleted and re-write this one #I deserve a reward #jk jk #I’m just happy I finally got a route I liked for this #cultofdixon #the walking dead #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction

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alazystranger · 7 months

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Do you have any bottom Luffy Zolu fic rec? (⁠灬⁠º⁠‿⁠º⁠灬⁠)⁠♡

At your service, anon!

spill your wine by The_Furthest_City_Light : this one had me in a frenzy. I stayed awake all night to bingeread it! A/B/O dynamics

There’s—a certain stance, maybe, or the way light hits his captain just right when he stands on the rail of the Merry, all sharp curves of jawline and the gentle slope of his neck and bare shoulders. The contrast of his dark hair and tanned skin. The swell of his calf, too, Zoro finds distracting. The artful leanness of his captain. In those moments Zoro’s knees go weak. He nearly drops his swords, he’s so overcome with it. Beautiful, he thinks, and he’s got no clue if it’s him or his alpha thinking it. Beautiful. We'd be so good to you.

Twice impaled by Sabbath(I_AKnownGay): short and yet so good

Luffy wants an ear piercing because that would be so cool and everyone would be so jealous. What follows is a long awaited encounter that neither Luffy nor Zoro expected on such a regular quiet day.

anything for you by grimsoul: you know just by reading the summary that this will be an amazing read.

“I’ll only hurt you.” Despite not looking at him, Zoro feels Luffy smile, a golden sun that rivals the silver moon of the night. His fingers run through Zoro’s hair, ghosting along his scalp, so devastatingly gentle. “You can never hurt me,” Luffy whispers into the wind. Into his hair. Into his heart. Zoro learns the overwhelming truth and crumbles down under the devastating weight of it; that Luffy will do anything for his first mate just as much as Zoro will do anything for his captain.

take it to hell by lulushishii: reading this was so much fun!

After Luffy and Zoro disappear from a feast, Nami, Usopp, and Brook go searching for them while the others continue to party. After finding themselves locked inside a treasure vault, they notice a secret window to the next room over, where Zoro and Luffy have no idea that their poor, tormented crew mates can see everything they don’t want to see through the viewing side of a two way mirror.

stay in this night with me by lucerile. porn with feelings, my beloved

His fingertip traced Zoro’s cheekbone and down to his jaw before he met Zoro’s fixed gaze. He didn't even blink. “You said you wanted to fuck me.” He stated it so matter-of-factly that Zoro laughed quickly. He sat up on his elbows and caught Luffy’s mouth with his, groaning into the kiss. “I do,” he breathed into Luffy’s open mouth, tasting tangerines on his tongue. “I’ve wanted to fuck you for a while, captain.” Zoro and Luffy finally get some alone time.

perfectly planned by threeswordorgy. one of the best first time fics of zolu out there imo. also, sometimes the overprotective brothers thing becomes cringy but not in this one! the ending to this is gold.

They're finally taking the next step- sneaking Zoro through the window while Luffy's brothers are out

a tale of two gods by grimsoul. wrapping up this rec list without having any zolu religious imagery fics in it would be a crime. this made me feel so insane /pos

“Ne, Zoro, come with me,” Luffy said, giggling, pulling him closer. “You’re going to be a part of my court.” Contrary to what most people believed, hell was a rather cold place. Zoro had been quite used to it, the lack of light, the vast glaciers, his body no longer as fragile as it was eons ago, and so a simple touch like this from Luffy, from the sun, made him feel like his flesh was scorched—melting away easily like winter in summer’s heat. They were close, so close that their foreheads were almost touching, and despite the burn of it, Zoro didn’t push him away. He smirked, his one eye glowing just as red as Luffy’s. “Don’t decide something on your own, idiot.”

hope you have a good time with these.

enjoy!!

#zolu fic recs #zolu fic #bottom luffy #one piece fanfiction #zoro x luffy

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camiefromstatefarm · 1 month

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We're back with some more 'Upper Moon Demons' headcanons!!! Today, we're focusing on my personal favorite. Slight NSFW warning.

Upper Moon 4

Hantengu/Hanito Jigoku (Part 1)

- Born in 1611, in a less populated town near Kyōto City.

Koki Jigoku, his father, was an extremely handsome and charismatic ladies' man. Parenthood was unexpected, but his heart melted when he saw his newborn son, who bore a striking resemblance to him. Despite his love for his wife, Koki struggled to abandon his womanizing ways..

Otsuru Jigoku (née Aisaki), his mother, was a strikingly attractive young woman with a caring personality. She had sun-kissed skin, a slender yet dramatic lean body, reminiscent of Devon Aoki, a heart-shaped face, warm brown hair, and silver to orchid eyes always filled with energy. Otsuru loved her husband intensely, but her love often turned deranged, driving her to murderous jealousy towards his frequent infidelities. She came from a wealthy family.

- Even as a young boy, Hanito was a stunningly handsome child with a sturdy athletic build and tanned skin. His spiky black hair messy and full, framing his brooding heart-shaped face and accentuating his piercing onyx eyes. His eyebrows were thick and expressive, often laced with a dramatic display of emotions. His features were sharp and chiseled, with high cheekbones and a straight high-bridged nose. He also bore a mischievous devilish grin.

- Hanito's life of crime began at just seven years old, not out of necessity, but sheer desire and bad influences. He ran with a trio of urchin boys, forming a band of young thieves who stole whatever they could to fill their pockets. Surprisingly, his parents, Koki and Otsuru, didn't reprimand him for his delinquent behavior. Instead, they adopted a lenient approach, telling him that as long as he avoided getting caught, he wouldn't face trouble at home. This unconventional parenting allowed Hanito to hone his thieving skills, shaping him into a skilled young thief.

- Stealing meant buying whatever they wanted, but for free. Hanito-kun rarely strayed from his tight-knit group, seeking the safety net of their protection. Hanito had a knack for evading capture, thanks to three key factors: his incredible speed, his skillful lying and manipulation, which convinced people he was just an innocent child, and his loyal clique of local fangirls who often helped him out of sticky situations.

Emiko-chan, gasps: Girls! Here comes Hanito-kun, act natural!

(Hanito passes by and smiles slightly before leaving)

Sakura-chan, giggles: You see that? He smiled at me!

Yumi-chan, cooing: No, I'm pretty sure he had his eyes on me!

Emiko-chan, huffing: Nuh uh! He was definitely checking out my hair!

(None of them realizing their missing hairpins)

Hanito, gripping all 3 hair pins: Too easy.

- The manifestations of Hantengu's emotions take on physical forms that reflect the age where he experienced those emotions most intensely.

Zohakuten 👹

Year 1623; a store clerk by the name of Mr. Yamada was fed up with the troublesome child's lies.

Hanito, defiantly: Let me go you big bully! There really was a wolf!

(He struggles trying to free his ear from the store clerk's harsh grip)

Mr. Yamada, angrily opens the door: Otsuru, your brat is at it againー

Horrifying. There knelt Otsuru ominously, in a tattered old kimono ー stained with blood spatter, one she kept specifically for these occasions ー with an ecstatic expression. Before her lay the lifeless body of a curvaceous young woman, a ravishing beauty with a face like a porcelain doll and dark sea-green hair. Her thighs impaled by two knives and her pale mint eyes froze in perpetual horror, surrounded by beads of sweat.

Otsuru, glances behind her: Ah, welcome Yamada-sama! Do come in, we're having a family reunion of sorts...

Hanito swiftly averted his gaze, closing his eyes to shield himself from the uncomfortable graphics. His reaction betrayed a familiarity with his mother's brutal outbursts, a hint that he had witnessed her madness before. In contrast, Mr. Yamada stood frozen, his voice caught in his throat as shock and terror rendered him speechless.

(Otsuru rose, her movements graceful like a cat)

Otsuru, curls her lips: And you, dear friend, are just in time for dinner. I do hope you have an... appetite for the macabre.

(She walks closer making Mr. Yamada free his grasp on Hanito's ear, slowly retreating)

Mr. Yamada, sweating: No... no! What have you done to that poor woman!

Otsuru, pats her son's head: Hush now, everything is fine... I'm bound to tidy the house after this.

Hanito, crying: How much more that nasty stuff is going to happen here?

Otsuru, gently and soothing: Darling, you know I don't have other options...

Mr. Yamada, pointing: You... what are you teaching that poor child, youー you crazy bitch!

Otsuru's eyes blazed with a dark intensity, her gaze flashing like a stormy sky. The air seemed to thicken, heavy with malevolence, as the unhinged madness gave way to a sinister wrath. Her long hair whipped around her face like a flail, as if the wind itself was fueling her fury. Her stained kimono fluttering behind her like a dark cloud.

Otsuru, in an ominous voice: Forgive me, good sir... but I'm afraid you've dug your own grave!

(A knife slid out of her sleeve and she launched at him. However, Mr. Yamada was quicker and dodged her attack)

Mr. Yamada, cornering her from behind: So reckless...

Hanito, yelling: Momma!

(Basically what happened was Mr. Yamada managed to grab Otsuru's wrist, twisting it, forcing her to drop the knife, and knocked the woman out.)

Mr. Yamada, grumbles: I'd be damned if I wasn't a former martial artist. I'm sorry to say it, kid, but your mother's actions have earned her a reckoning. She'll face trial and judgment for her wrongdoings.

Hanito's tear-stained face twisted into a furious scowl, his large bushy eyebrows furrowing in anger. His piercing eyes narrowed, flashing with intense animosity, his glare so heavy that it almost crushed the store clerk. It was unnerving to see how this boy could be both seriously handsome and intimidatingly fierce at the same time.

Hanito, darkly: You evil son of prick! Leave my momma alone or... or I'll kill you!

(He charges at Mr. Yamada attempting to punch the latter, but was triped over by Yamada's sliding kick)

Mr. Yamada, lifts Otsuru up: Don't try to fight me, Hanito, I'm three times your size.

Hanito, grabbing onto Yamada's ankle: No!!! I won't let a scumbag like you give me orders!!!

(Hanito twists Yamada's ankle causing the latter to wince and kick him back)

Mr. Yamada, scoffs: Blasted child. You're lucky I respect your father enough to let you off the hook.

The 12-year-old's rage thickened, his glare twice as spiteful as he rose from his position, gracefully like the fall was nothing. He balled both hands fist, ready to spring into action when two people showed up. A samurai and a middle-aged woman with the same green hair as the victim.

Samurai, analyzing the situation: So if I'm correct, this was the lady who your daughter was last seen with.

(The middle-aged woman just nodded)

Mr. Yamada: I fear to inform you... that your daughter is dead...

(The middle-aged woman weaped)

Mr. Yamada, frowning: I was just taking her son, Hanito, back home. That kid has been in a lot of hot water lately, I wanted to have a word with Otsuru about this...

Hanito, looks down bitterly: I was telling the truth...

Mr. Yamada, shouts: There was no wolf and never one to begin with!

Samurai, tapping chin: Note the freshness of the blood suggests the incident occurred within the past 30 minutes.

Mr. Yamada, still disturbed: The girl is inside. Poor thing was bleeding head to toe.

This was a night no one forgotten, especially Zohakuten who held onto that memory like an ideology.

Basically after that fiasco, Otsuru was convinced of 13 accounts of homicide and sentenced to death by hanging. Nobody wanted to inform Hanito what happened to his mother, believing it'd be too hard on him.

- To cope with the void left by his mother's absence, Hanito's fragile mind conjured a distorted narrative, convincing himself that she was a monster who had abandoned him, rather than confront the painful truth of her fate.

- After his mother's departure, Hanito spent his remaining teenage years by his father's side. Seeking a new beginning, they relocated to Gion, a prestigious district in Kyōto renowned for its vibrant entertainment and traditional geisha culture.

- Hanito only grew more handsome by the day. His voice deepened, and he became taller & stronger. His spiky hair had grown longer, reaching his shoulders. His heart-shaped face still brooded with intensity, but his features had matured, sharpening his cheekbones and nose. His piercing onyx eyes smoldering and framed by thick eyebrows that gave him a debonair look. At thirteen, he was already the most attractive guy in Gion.

- He idolized his womanizer father, emulating his ways but with a more sinister edge.

Hanito, exclaiming: Father, teach me how to charm the ladies!

Koki, smiling: Ah, my son, it's all about confidence and charm. Watch and learn!

- As young Hanito honed his skills, his reputation grew, and so did his ego. He began to see himself as a legend, a master of charm and deception. And his father, well, he was the one who had taught him everything he knew.

- He employed his charms to lure unsuspecting girls into his trap, only to rob them blind. Unlike his father, Koki, who had treated his mistresses with kindness and sincerity, Hanito's intentions were far more dark. He delighted in leaving a trail of broken hearts in his wake, his beauty and charisma mere tools for exploitation. With each conquest, Hanito's confidence grew, as did his reputation as a heartless Casanova.

His father, Koki, looked on with a mix of pride and concern, aware of the darkness brewing within his son. Yet, he remained silent, allowing Hanito's destructive path to continue unchecked.

- At 14, Hanito experienced his first kiss under the soft glow of a lantern on a bench, in a secluded area of the Gion District. Maiya, his girlfriend, rested her head on his shoulder, her gentle eyes sparkling in the dim light. With his arm wrapped around her, Hanito felt a sense of vulnerability he'd never known before. As their lips touched, he tasted the sweetness of innocence, leaving him breathless. Maiya may not have been as pretty as the ryotei girls who often fawned over him, but to Hanito, she was cute in her own right. Her gentle soul and kind eyes captivated him. In that moment, Hanito felt like a different kind of man.

- Unfortunately, their relationship wouldn't last very long. Hanito's temper and insensitivity brought Maiya distress. Because of that, their relationship ended on bad terms that would leave the spiky-haired boy with his guard up.

- On his 16th birthday, Hanito's life took a reckless turn. He lost his virginity in a wild encounter with three bad bitches in one room, quite tumultuous but worth it.

Rorerei: a former geisha that kind of resembles a young Meisa Kuroki.

Kyoka: the daughter of the second wealthiest man in town & somewhat resembles young Fukada Kyoko.

Nozomi: a waitress who looked a bit like a young Nozomi Sasaki.

- They'd do it again the next night in the same Ryokan. Hanito enjoyed every minute of it. A cute girl named Mika ー cousin of Maiya ー would walk in on them while trying to find her room. This would fluster the young man greatly. However, Mika was... chilled with it and even joined in the fun.

When Maiya found out about what happened, she gave her cousin a 48 hour long lecture.

✅️

Aizetsu 😿

- At 18, Hanito's world was shattered when his father, Koki, died under mysterious circumstances. The discovery of Koki's lifeless body at dawn, drained of blood and beyond salvation, left Hanito reeling. Consumed by grief and abandonment, he plummeted into a dark depression, desperately seeking solace from the anguish. In his darkest moments, Hanito attempted to escape the pain through self-destructive means, but the void left by his father's absence only seemed to grow.

Aizetsu is the second physically youngest of Hantengu's clones. Since Hanito would no longer wore his hair spiky after turning 19.

- This led him craving solitude in the most somber area of Nishijin, where he could escape the world for a while. His only companion was a Japanese Bobtail cat he found injured by the roadside. He took her in, nursing her back to health by bandaging her paw and feeding her. He named her Usui, inspired by the rain that fell on the day they met.

- This was the second time Hanito displayed compassion towards another being. Together, he and Usui weathered the rainy days, a somber but comforting duo in the midst of Kyoto's bustling streets.

- In moments of introspection, Hanito would often hear his father's gentle voice whispering in his mind, urging him to stay strong and press on. The memory of Koki's words, though faint, remained a comforting presence, echoing through Hanito's thoughts like a soft breeze on a summer night.

- Eleven months later, Usui would find her siblings again. Although Hanito didn't want her to go, he did as he knew what it was like to be separated from family. But not before Usui rubbed against her close companion's leg and purred contentedly.

This version of Hanito became the base/blueprint for Aizetsu's creation. Each clone gain power using a series of events in Hanito's 87 years everytime he'd experience that emotion.

✅️

Karaku 💚

Year 1630; was when Hanito finally decided to move again and start over.

- Having grown into a stunningly gorgeous young man, his hair grew moderately past shoulder-length and wavy in a very sexy, satisfying, and stylish sense. His charm and good looks intensified, making him a magnet and true Casanova Killer. With his narrow piercing gaze, captivating smile, thick eyebrows, lean muscular build, nimble fingers, and glowing tawny skin, he was extremely irresistible to many. His voice fully deepened, and he grew taller, exuding confidence and allure.

- New year, new him. Hanito moved to Shimabara, a fascinating red-light district in Kyōto where life was an endless party.

- Hanito got to try liquor for the first time. A quarter cup of shochu mixed with ¾ cup of yuzu was enough to satisfy his taste buds. By the way, when he says the ladies at Shimabara were fine, he means it. During his time in Shimabara, he found himself hooking up with every woman who flirted with him. And that's saying a lot because Hanito was the talk of all town, a head-turner. Husbands would told onto their wives more closely at the charmer's presence, bachelors envied Hanito and wanted to be him and some were even mesmerized, many maidens found themselves falling for his charms and brooding persona, and the top most gorgeous women would even spend the night with him. As a result, Hanito acted overly cocky and prideful in many situations.

Let's just say, the ladies at Shimabara were like Makio/Mitsuri/Daki-level badness. Effortlessly pretty faces, voluptuous figures, stylish sense of fashion, sexy, and hot personalities.

- Let's just say, Hanito almost encountered the dreaded Kukushisen (Syphilis) this one fateful night. Nana, the chick he was with was really hot and was very experienced, luckily she brought mika (paper condoms) with her and they had a blast.

- Hanito actually first met Muzan at a party....

Hantengu's name holds a dual meaning, translating to both "Braggart" and "Half Tengu". The former suggests that The Demon King encountered him in a state of boastful pride, while the latter reveals a connection to the mythical Tengu creatures from Japanese folklore. Tengu are known for their striking appearance, featuring wings, beaks, and formidable magical abilities, as well as their mischievous and powerful nature. This namesake is fitting, as Hantengu's Blood Demon Art allows him to split his body in half, unleashing Tengu-like clones that embody the same quick and cunning spirit as their mythical counterparts.

- Unfortunately, they never got the chance to interact as the party got raided by a bunch of drunken thugs. However, despite being initially annoyed by Hanito's ego and two-faced nature, Muzan was intrigued by his soon-to-be-UM4's ability to charm and pickpocket people.

- Hanito's journey would take an interesting turn as he developed sadomasochistic tendencies. This transformation began with a chance encounter, where he found himself engaged in a captivating conversation with an alluring older woman... whose name remains a mystery. Deciding to step outside for some alone time, she pretty much... just dined in, left an indelible mark on his sensitive place. The sensation made him wince, but somehow he was enjoying it.

- Giving and receiving pain was more than just a fetish. He found himself really enjoying the suffering of people who wronged him. Heartbreak no longer hurt anymore, he was addicted to agony it brought him. Pain was pleasure.

- At 21, Hanito visited his boyhood town, only to discover his old home gone. In its place stood an Inari Shrine, alongside a garden where 13 graves lay next to cherry blossom trees in silent remembrance. He thought this view was rather satisfying and pleasing.

After Otsuru's heinous crimes came to light, the authorities embarked on a meticulous investigation, meticulously dismantling the house piece by piece to uncover the gruesome secrets within. Their grim task was to retrieve the remains of the 13 unfortunate women who had fallen victim to her brutality, whose bodies had been hidden or buried in various clandestine locations throughout the dwelling.

✅️

Urogi 🕊

Years 1623-1632, the town's population and commercial activities would slowly increase throughout the years.

The trio of urchins Hanito used to hang out with years ago were now successful yashi/yamichi (peddlers) ー by the way; their names were Bakuto, Omaru, and Kaito respectively: smooth-talking salesmen who may not be the honest people when it came selling things (Scam Artist Douma-san from the Academy AU should really hire these guys)

You may or may not have remembered the three girls who were obsessed with Hanito from the beginning. Emiko embraced her distinctive hair color - a pale silver with a soft baby blue undertone - rejecting the pressure to conform by dyeing it black. Meanwhile, Sakura harbored subtle affections for Yumi, but ultimately chose duty over desire and married a lord. In contrast, Yumi found true happiness with Omaru, her heart full of joy in their union.

Sakura, curiously: Who is that tall, dark, strong, and handsome brute over there?

Yumi, blushing: You're telling me. He's a snack.

Sakura, in a teasing voice: But, Yumi-chan. What about Omaru?

Yumi, nervous giggles: Oh, yeah... I forgot.

Emiko, looks up from sweeping: Girls? The porch isn't gunna clean itself.

Sakura, without looking away: Just a minute Emiko. We're too busy swooning over this hot new boy.

Emiko, raises a brow: Who?

(She walks over, trying to get a peak)

Emiko, surprised: H-Hanito-sama?

Well, they were both surprised to see each other. Emiko has now grown into the most beautiful woman Hanito has ever see. With her fierce meadow green eyes, flowy white hair, adorable smile, delicate frame, femininity, and great personality; she became the first woman he ever truly loved.

And Emiko; she always had a thing for that boy. Even after realizing he swiftly swiped her hair pin when they were little. She was absolutely smitten upon seeing this man again. He made her heart sing like no other person has.

- The time Hanito spent with Emiko were the best 2 months of his life. They shared an instant connection, discovering a deep affinity for each other's interests and values. Hanito, attuned to the subtleties of human emotions, realized his feelings for Emiko went beyond friendship after just three weeks of togetherness - he had fallen deeply in love.

- They got married on the first day of July, in the same Inari Shrine built where Hanito's childhood home used to be. He was overjoyed by this event, believing he might have a chance to a normal life.

- After bidding farewell to the town, they escaped to a serene foothill of Mt. Hiei, where they built a secluded haven near the charming town of Sakamoto.

"We are in love in love, haven't you heard. How we rock each other's world!"

(- Avril Lavigne)

Well that was fun to write! Considering Hantengu's backstory wasn't as detailed or shown like some of the other characters, and due the fact that he lived a relatively long human life... It made room for plenty of creativity.

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katyawriteswhump · 9 months

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Steddie microfic: Slay me dead

Corroded Coffin’s biggest gig yet makes Eddie hotter for Steve than ever… till he almost misses the little things that matter.

For @steddiemicrofic January prompt ‘hole.’ WC: 404. Rating: E. CW: Foreplay, sex, mention of sex toys. Tags: Rising rockstar Eddie, wannabe pop-star Steve, angst and fluff, shameless pet names.

***

Eddie bounces backstage, ears ringing with an electric guitar death-knell so metal he could die happy now. Steve waits, wearing skin-tight gold lamé pants. Ooooozing sex.

“We slayed ’em!” Eddie yells. “A crowd of five-fucking-thousand!”

He slams against Steve and they kiss, tongues thrusting deep, teeth skimming tender flesh. Steve sucks hungrily on Eddie’s lower lip, while Eddie squeezes Steve’s shiny ass:

“Butt plug in, Stevie?”

“Shit! Forgot, um… Screw it. Sorry.” Steve flinches—tenses?—smears his fingers along those kiss-swollen lips.

Gnnnng!

Any blood remaining in Eddie’s brain rushes south. “Apologise ye not, Princess. Luuurve watching you prepare. Just want ‘in’ so bad.”

On the dressing room couch, Steve kneels, shirtless, straddling Eddie's hips. Working his sexy, sinewy fingers in and out of his sexy, sensuous mouth.

“Strings of saliva should noooot be this alluring.” Eddie's nails zigzag down Steve's delicious torso, snagging chesnutty hairs beneath his taut stomach. “You could be in porn, Babe.”

“Zip it. Or I’ll bill ya.”

Steve’s brow creases in super-hot concentration. He peels that golden second skin low down his thighs, mixes lube with spit, twists his hips so Eddie can see. Hastily wriggles his fingers inside. Soon, he’s gasping, bouncing lightly on his knees. He’s finger fucking himself, readying to lower himself onto Eddie’s ragingly ready dick…

…when Eddie finally looks into Steve’s huge, dark, sad eyes. Steve turns away.

“Stevie?”

Steve sighs, shudders, drags his fingers out and aligns himself for the ride. Eddie catches Steve’s wrist.

“Darlin'? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Steve tugs free, absent-mindedly slicks his decorously mussed hair. “Shitty timing, Sweetcheeks. I’m good, I...”

“Woah, let's sloooow this right down. If you're not totally okay with… Fuuuuck!”

Steve clenches his jaw, slowly impales himself, slaying Eddie dead mega-quick.

Steve opens up afterward, when they’re entangled together in a sweaty, hairy heap: “Your manager handed back my lousy demo tape. Said nobody's interested. Felt like I'd been shoved into a black hole, but… Over it already.”

“Holy shit. Sorry.” Eddie kisses Steve’s brow. “They’re morons. Takes time, okay?”

“Yeeeah. Guess there’s shittier gigs than being your fuck-toy.”

Eddie grimaces, traces Steve’s cheekbone adoringly with his thumb. “Next time I’m blinded by your hotness like a testosterone-fired apeman, slap me?”

Steve sorta laughs. “Not my kink.”

“Let’s find what is, Gorgeous.”

Eddie rolls on top, smothers every part of Steve with kisses. Then whispers ‘I love you’ as Steve comes, and till Steve’s asleep in his arms.

#steddiemicrofic #steddie #steve x eddie #steddie smut #rockstar eddie munson #steddie fanfic #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve harrington whump #steddie ficlet #steddie fic #steddie fluff #steddiemicroficjanuary

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malkavi-ann · 1 month

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When the Truth Hurts. Chapter 3

Elden Ring: Shadow of the Erdtree fanfiction

Rating: Mature (May change in the future)

Relationship: F/M

Pairing: Messmer the Impaler/Original Female Character

Tags: Self-Loathing, Reference to Depression, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Memory Loss, Messmer is bad at feelings, Mommy Issues, Abandonment Issues.

Link to Ao3

Chapter 3: In Search of the Answers

Messmer slowly walked into the decrepit hut, which was so dark it almost looked like he was walking into the void. His only eye was used to darkness from all the time he’d spent in his chamber. Besides, his serpents, who had much keener senses, were always by his side to guide him. Now alert, they were peering into the insides of the shack, hissing quietly. Through their senses, Messmer was able to get a better picture of what his surroundings were like.

The hut’s interior had certainly seen better days, and it looked like it had been abandoned for a long time. There were cobwebs and dust everywhere, and some parts of the walls started to get overtaken by moss and mushrooms. The main room had little to no furniture apart from some broken cupboards, a couple of wooden chairs with missing legs, and a rotted dining table. When Messmer entered the room, his nostrils were hit with a heavy smell of earth and mold. It was so strong it was almost suffocating. However, there was also a faint but distinct hint of some sweet flower-like scent. The only source of light in this place was a hole in the ceiling that let some of the sunshine in. It was just enough light to illuminate a small part of the room where a silhouette of a woman could be seen.

She was wearing a black hooded cloak so her face wasn’t visible. One thing that certainly stood out about her was her height: the woman was much taller than ordinary folk but slightly shorter than Messmer. Her dress and cloak were made out of fine black velvet with intricate gold embroidery along the hemline. Her hands were almost completely covered by the long sleeves as if she was trying to hide them but even in this darkness, Messmer could still get a glimpse of a tiny sparkle of the amethyst ring she was wearing. Such an expensive-looking dress and piece of jewelry were not something an ordinary woman could afford, so this one certainly came from a renowned - if not royal - family.

“You said you won’t cause me any harm. Is that true?”, a soft, almost hypnotizing voice broke the silence. As Messmer realized earlier, it was definitely not the voice of his mother. Marika always had this regal confidence when speaking as she was well aware of her status and power as Queen Eternal.

“Yes, it is. I’m a man of my word. Now, may I ask you some questions?”, asked Messmer with unwavering directness.

The woman paused for a moment, considering his request. “I’ll try my best to give you answers, but would you be so kind as to answer some of my questions in return?”, she replied gently, as if she was afraid to offend Messmer by making such an inquiry. Her shy politeness took Messmer a bit by surprise: his name was well-known across the Land of Shadow and not for honorable reasons. A lot of people native to this realm feared or hated him, so they wouldn’t even dare ask him questions.

”Of course, however, I would trust you more if you uncovered your face. A trustworthy person wouldn’t have anything to hide, don’t you think?”, said Messmer in an attempt to get the woman to show her true face. Once again, she hesitated for a moment before finally removing the hood. What Messmer saw left him shocked and speechless.

It was just like the reports were saying: her facial features were almost identical, though somewhat softer, to those of Marika’s - the nose, the lips, the cheekbones. Her long hair was like pure gold cascading down her shoulders. While most of it was let down, some of it was arranged in three thick braids. Despite clear similarities, she wasn’t an exact copy of his mother: whereas Marika’s eyes were of golden color, indicating the grace of the Erdtree, the woman in front of him was devoid of that light. Instead, her eyes were light purple, close to the lavender color, which was very unusual in this realm. But it wasn’t only the striking resemblance to his mother that made Messmer freeze in his place: the woman had horns growing out of her forehead. Some of them were small, almost like tiny spikes piercing through skin, and growing upwards, while others were almost the size of a fist and curled in the same way ram horns did.

“This is blasphemy!”, a thought was ringing in Messmer’s head. “This woman is a Hornsent, and she bears resemblance to my Mother! Are the gods mocking me? I should kill this abomination right now”. His mind was delving deeper into the vortex of emotions: despair, rage, disappointment, and disgust.

The woman’s expression, which was calm a moment ago, changed, showing concern. “Are you alright, sir?”.

”Who are you?”, asked Messmer in a cold tone. As his anger grew stronger, he tightly gripped his spear. Yet, despite the urge to kill the woman standing in front of him, he still wanted to learn the truth.

”Oh, forgive me, sir. My name is Morgana. Pleasure to make your acquaintance.”, she bowed slightly. Her light tone was so innocent and naive that it was almost disarming.

”What is a Hornsent like you doing in this village?”, Messmer shot another question, like an arrow, and this time it was filled with more venom in his voice.

”A Hornsent? I’m afraid I don’t understand what that means.”, the woman looked genuinely confused. “Is that how you refer to Omen people in this place?”

Now it was Messmer’s turn to be confused: he’d heard about the Omen curse before during his time in the Lands Between, but in this realm, it didn’t exist. Besides, the woman in front of him didn’t look as brutish as the Omen folk he’d encountered around Leyndell. Was she trying to fool him?

“Don’t act like you don’t understand, woman. You look exactly like one of the Hornsent.”, he was starting to lose his patience.

His change of tone seemed to frighten her as she took a small step back: “Sir, I’m telling the truth. I was born with an Omen curse in the Lands Between. I have never heard of these Hornsent people that you’re speaking of.”

The Lands Between… The moment Messmer heard her say that, he paused: this was the place where his mother had ruled all these years. At some point, eons ago, Messmer was there with her before Marika ordered him to eradicate the Hornsent in the Land of Shadow. That’s where it all began under the golden grace of the Erdtree. Suddenly, a thought sprung in Messmer’s mind: maybe the woman was telling the truth about not being a Hornsent.

“You said you come from the Lands Between. Where exactly do you hail from?”, Messmer inquiered, his tension starting to subside.

”I don’t remember exactly but I do recall living in a palace.”, she replied hesitantly.

“Was it a golden palace?”, he probed further.

”I…I’m not quite sure. My apologies, sir, my memory is in a terrible state at the moment.”, Morgana furrowed her brows as if it hurt her to recall her memories.

“If the Lands Between is your home, how did you get into the Land of Shadow? Traveling between realms is not an easy task.”

”Alas, I can’t remember. I think my goddess helped me to get here. She told me I would be able to find my true purpose in this land”, her face lit up when she spoke of her deity.

A goddess? Could that be Marika? Messmer was determined to find at least a tiny connection between the horned woman and his mother. “Who is your goddess?”

”I follow the Formless Mother. She’s always been kind to me and my kin. Her guidance has helped me greatly in my journey.”, Morgana said with reverence as she reached into her pouch and retrieved a sacred seal shaped like a trident.

”I see. That explains why there were so many blood fiends outside.”, Messmer concluded with a slight disappointment. “Speaking of which, I found my soldiers sleeping around the hut. Were you the one who put them to sleep?”

Morgana nodded. “Yes, it is one of my gifts. Those big creatures - the blood fiends as you called them - found me first when I woke up near the ruined town which is not too far away from here. They looked quite menacing, yet they didn’t do any harm to me. In truth, they helped me survive by getting me to shelter and bringing food and flowers. Then, a week or two ago your soldiers showed up, and the blood fiends were trying to protect me. I didn’t want anyone to get hurt, so I put them all to sleep.”

”I have never met anyone with a sleep affinity before. These abilities are incredibly rare. We’ve tried to wake them up but to no avail.”

”They shall remain asleep as long as I wish. But if you need them awake, I can arrange that. However, you must promise me to leave the blood fiends alone. They have shown me nothing but kindness, so please, tell your men to refrain from violence.”, she pleaded.

Messmer considered her request for a moment before finally agreeing. “Very well. You have my word. However, I still have some questions for you. You said you came here from the Lands Between. But why are you here?”

Morgana lowered her gaze. “I’m looking for my mother. I don’t remember anything about her but I know she is here somewhere. When I found myself in this realm, I realized that my memories of my past were gone. But my goddess told me that if I could find my mother, she would help me remember everything. And by doing so, I will find my purpose.” Messmer could hear the sadness in her voice, and his heart trembled. Did he actually feel sorry for her? This woman was so lost in the land she’d never been before. All she wanted was to find her mother and learn the truth about herself. In a way, she reminded Messmer of his own fate. Maybe her mother also abandoned her, and the poor girl didn’t remember that. The more Messmer learned about this mysterious woman, the more sympathetic he felt towards her.

There was a moment of silence as both of them got lost in their thoughts. Morgana was the first one to speak. “Sir, may I ask a question about this realm?”.

“Oh, of course. I believe I owe you some answers in return for your honesty.”, Messmer replied.

“When I think about my mother, I feel something like a tug in this direction as if someone or something is pulling me towards them.”, she pointed in the southern direction. “Do you know what lies there?”

“Hmm, as far as I know, there’s a place called the Cerulean Coast. I have never had the need to travel there, so my knowledge of that area is limited.”

”Oh, I see. Do you happen to know if there is a path I can take to get there from this hut?”, she inquired further.

”Unfortunately, I don’t think it’s possible to travel to the Cerulean Coast directly from here. You see, this village is right on the cliffside, so the only way down there is by taking a detour. The journey might take a few days. Are you certain you wish to go there by yourself?” Messmer only needed to have a quick look at her attire to realize that she was not prepared for such a long and arduous journey.

Morgana caught his glance and shifted awkwardly. “I’m not sure to be quite honest. I’m a stranger in this land and will almost certainly get lost.” She chewed on her lip, trying to find the right words. “I know this might be too big of a favor to ask but you’re the only person I feel like I can trust. Would you be able to help me in any way to get to the Cerulean Coast?”

That was a very bold request considering she’d just met Messmer. Nevertheless, it seemed that Morgana trusted him. Yet, Messmer still wasn’t sure what to do about this woman. Helping her would distract him from his main objective, although at this point it was almost a welcome change. However, letting her go wandering about the Land of Shadow could cause some complications because of her likeness to Marika. The Hornsent despised the Eternal Queen but they also believed in premonitions and receiving signs from the gods. If they were to encounter a woman who looked like their sworn enemy but also had horns, which they considered a blessing from their gods, it would taint Marika’s reputation even further and possibly give them terrible ideas regarding his mother’s reign. Messmer couldn’t allow this to happen.

“I am afraid I can’t fulfill your request.” Messmer broke the silence eventually. Morgana’s face turned somber: her hope of finding her mother was slowly fading away. “However, I cannot let you go just yet. I still have questions about the Lands Between, and I believe with time your memories will be restored on their own. Therefore, I have to ask you to come with me.”, he continued. Morgana’s eyes went wide.

”What? Sir, please, I beg you! Don’t do this to me. I’m so close to finding my mother. It is of great importance that I must learn the truth.”, she cried.

”I’m not quite done.”, he said firmly. “You shall stay at my Keep until I get my answers. And once I’m satisfied, you may continue your journey. I do promise that at the end of your stay, I shall assist you in finding your mother.”

The woman didn’t look happy. She went quiet, thinking about what Messmer said. He watched her closely as she tried to reach into her pouch. In the blink of an eye, Messmer’s serpents leaped towards her hands and wrapped around her wrists tightly, restraining her movement. Morgana gasped as Messmer approached her. Now that he was closer to her, he noticed that she had small patches of gray scaly skin on her temples and cheekbones. “How curious”, he thought to himself.

”I wouldn’t recommend resisting. It could end badly for you.” He said while taking her pouch away from her.

“You promised you wouldn’t hurt me.”, her voice was shaking. “I did, and I shall keep my promise if you stop resisting and come with me. But if you try to use your powers on me, I’ll cut your life short, and you will never find the truth.”

Morgana took a deep breath. She didn’t have much choice, so she had to accept, though unwillingly, Messmer’s conditions. “Very well. I shall follow you to the keep.”

“Excellent.”, he moved away, and his serpents finally released their grip on her hands.

And with that they stepped outside the hut, leaving it behind.

#elden ring #elden ring messmer #messmer the impaler #fanfic #fantasy #original character #shadow of the erdtree #slow burn #mommy issues #memory loss #angst #hurt/comfort

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taleswritten · 9 days

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@avernusfuries sent If you can still walk, Then we're not finished. -deadpool!

Jesus Fuck. He might have just met his match and honestly? That is more than okay with him. It's been a while since he's met someone who can keep up with his stamina and he'd gladly be under this beauty (or in many other positions) all day long if that is what she wants.

Even if he doesn't admit it, one of his favorite things is to be pegged and fuck she does it so well. It has him needy, wanting more and more, and everything she will possibly give him.

She can ruin him and he'd thank her for it.

He chuckles as he reaches forward to cup her cheek, brushing thumb over her cheekbone while he looks at her in awe, like she's the only thing in the world that matters. Right now, she is.

Her heat doesn't bother him, in fact he craves it. It feels good on scars. He wants to touch every inch of her and be touched in return. "Yeah? That a promise, red?" Lips curl up in a teasing smirk, a challenge in both his smirk and his gaze as he stares up at her.

His hips roll, as if trying to impale himself further on that strap and get her to start moving again. "You sure you're up for it? Might take a lot to get me to that point." Judging by how fucking good she is, maybe not, but he's got to challenge her all the same. He wouldn't be....well...him, if he didn't.

The need builds throughout his body once more, she's just staring at him at the moment. That lust in those eyes, the feeling of the strap inside of him, everything is sending a wave of arousal throughout his body making his cock rock hard and aching to be touched. He's already ready for another round and another and another.

Goddamn. She's going to be the death of him.

"Come on, Red. Fuck me."

#nsft #avernusfuries #deadpool interactions #i feel like this could have been better but I'm still waking up apologies akjsjks

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fuzedatti · 1 year

Text

XIX. Epilogue. (Prometheus)

───── ❝ 𝐀𝐧 𝐒𝐂𝐏 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐞 ❞ ─────

Masterlist

─────────────────────

The aroma of coffee in the morning was one of their favorite smells. Their nostrils were intoxicated by the bitter fragrance, the harsh feel of caffeine in his mouth. They took a sip from their cup to leave it on the table seconds later, reading the morning paper as usual. Their body was reclined in a comfortable rocking chair, outside the porch of their rustic house; It was a pleasant autumn day, with the floor paved with ocher leaves and trees in their last phase of life.

In the distance a tall, slender figure was seen approaching the house, his black hair pulled back perfectly accentuating the long face with triangular features. He was dressed in a black jacket that covered his entire body, combined with high-heeled boots and dark leather gloves. The man in the rocking chair stood up to greet him with a kiss on the cheek. The black-haired man looked at his partner and gave him a warm smile.

They were an albino man, shorter than him, his hair was combed back revealing his cheekbones and marked jaw. Their violet eyes looked into their partner's blue eyes, drifting to the barely visible scar on his lips and kissing him.

—Dýo... – Their hand took the black-haired man's cheek and caressed his.

—Come inside, it's freezing here.

He obeyed and entered the house to be welcomed by a little boy with raven hair, who was wearing a top hat and a doctor's suit. The infant ran to the tallest to embrace him.

—Father, I missed you so much!– Shouted the smallest, hanging on his leg.

—I missed you too Saturn.

—Louis, take off your coat so you can help me cook dinner.

—Yes, Dýo, let me give the boy something.

Louis knelt at his son's height to take something out of his pocket, it was a small stethoscope that he had brought from the hospital. When his son saw the instrument he began to jump for joy and put it around his neck.

—When I grow up I'll be like you, father!

The doctor laughed and carried the boy to the kitchen with his other dad, he already had everything ready to cook.

—And why don't you want to be like me?– They asked sarcastically.

—I don't want to be an actor, it's very difficult!

—It's not hard kid, you just have to- – They interrupted themselves to act like they were impaled on the forehead, exaggerating the sounds in a funny way and lying on the ground in an exaggerated pose. —Bleh!—

The boy laughed and was left on the floor to play with Dýo while Louis started dinner. The family's laughter faded into the darkness, leaving Dýo on the ground, disappearing in the dust.

Back to reality.

Somewhere in the foundation was a group of doctors and researchers monitoring the psychic behavior of SCP-035. Among those doctors was Louis, a now proclaimed doctor who was in charge of the Prometheus project, which was in charge of monitoring Dýo's psychic activity while he was in his hibernation state. The fragments had been reuniting together over the decades with the help of what was left of their secretion. Those involved in the project were made up of academic experts in artistic anomalies or in relation to certain mythologies, who were responsible for modifying SCP-035's file to adapt to the Prometheus project.

Below are the modifications made by the Prometheus project staff, approved by the 0-5 Council:

SCP-035

Object Class: ̶K̶e̶t̶e̶r̶ ̶A̶p̶o̶l̶l̶y̶o̶n̶ Neutralized

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-035 is to be contained within a hermetically sealed glass box no less than 10 centimeters thick. This box should be contained within the research room of the project department and neutralized anomalies. Research personnel are not to touch SCP-035 at any time with the exception of Dr. Nicéphore, formerly known as SCP-049. Anyone who comes into contact with SCP-035 is to be immediately terminated to prevent the spread of the disease known as ████.

Psychic activity monitoring must be maintained at all times, taking care that their sleep cycle does not exit the NREM phase or the fragments do not try to move faster than their current speed. Every day, classical music must be played, poetry or literature recited, as well as plays or opera, all of which are not to be older than the 19th century. In the event of a containment breach, the first contact needs to be done by the anomaly so that Dr. Nicéphore can indicate the next step.

Description: SCP-035 appears to be a collection of fragments of a porcelain white comic mask surrounded by a highly corrosive and degenerative viscous liquid that holds it together. Anything that comes in contact with this substance slowly degenerates over a period of time, depending on the material, until it completely melts into a pool of the original contaminant. Living organisms that come into contact with the substance react in the same way, without recovery. The origin of the substance is unknown.

Addendum: SCP-035 has been dormant for approximately 50 (fifty) years since the 20█ incident. There are doubts about their vital state and if they will wake up in another 50 (fifty) years as Dr. Nicéphore affirms

Note: Keeping the creature alive is not recommended, and should be exterminated as soon as possible. We don't know what he will do when he wakes up or how much power he possesses.

Kill him at all costs.

0-5 Council

Despite the ongoing efforts of the 0-5 Council, SCP-035 has not been terminated and no termination attempt by the foundation is scheduled. It has been shown that the anomaly has no interest in waking up and its cognitive patterns show less aggressiveness than its early years. At the start of the project, SCP-035 displayed aggressive and irrational behavior patterns, attempting to wake up every hour or re-collect its missing pieces. Afterwards, their behaviors were erratic but calculated, trying to get Dr. Nicéphore's attention by creating morse codes on the spectrogram where they could range from melodies to small messages.

There were other days where there was no activity, but instead entered the NREM phase of sleep and did not come out of it until days later. The other researchers showed interest in the anomaly, constantly asking Dr. Nicéphore for his history. Unfortunately, most of them died or withdrew when they reached an older age, so the new transfers caused the doctor pain; Request for Dýo's history beyond what was collected before the incident is prohibited.

Recently, Dr. Clef brought SCP-978, The Desire Camera, to SCP-035's containment site. He had no reason to bring it more than just entertainment; He had been taking photos of other members of the foundation and even some SCP's of safe or benevolent class. He entered the “nest” (as some called it due to Louis's avian nature) to find the doctor looking at the mask.

His appearance had undergone minimal changes over the years, mostly the disappearance of his scar and black sclerae thanks to his invention of the cure for his disease. Also the absence of his signature plague mask was a hard change to take.

—No activity yet?– The blond asked, adjusting the camera lens.

—I'm afraid not.– He turned to look at the screen that showed his sleep pattern.

The flash from the camera blinded Louis, causing him to blink at the light. A polaroid photo came out of the anomalous camera, Clef took the photo to reveal it by waving his hand. The photo showed Louis successfully curing a patient of the pestilence, with Dýo at his side clapping and SCP-049-J on the surgical table.

Clef looked at the photo with some sadness and gave it to the french who had a similar reaction, his eyes reflected melancholy and pain, but at the same time hope.

—Can I keep this photo?

—Of course, Louis.

The french took out his medical journal to place the photo on the first page, where he kept small notes and letters that Dýo had given him centuries before. The yellowed pages matched the doctor's barely legible handwriting, along with the smell of dried tears and old book pages.

—My work is meaningless, Alto Clef,– he confessed without taking his eyes off his journal. —I was distracted by Dýo's childish games for so long that I let the pestilence get out of my hands.–

Clef approached his position feeling a strong scent of lavender.

—But you cured Dýo's disease, even the Parliament thanked you. You healed something that was killing you, Louis, that should be enough.

—No, it's not enough.

The plague doctor turned off the screen to go to the door with Clef, turning off the light in the room as they left. Heading to the elevator, Louis continued talking to Clef about their mental dispute.

—I could cure any disease, in fact, I already have, but all my work revolves around pestilence.– He pressed the button for the lowest possible level. —What kind of academic am I if I can't even solve my own thesis?–

For each level they lowered less light was visible, passing through the lightest to the heaviest containment zones.

—But are there victims of the pestilence? You haven't mentioned them in quite some time.

—Of course there are, but as I told you before, I have been distracting myself with vanities.

They reached the last floor, a large door opened in front of them to reveal a large dark room filled with emerald glowing cloning tubes. Each one of them inhabited the body of an adult red-haired human, being monitored by an avian-looking teenager.

—Father, Uncle Clef!

—Greetings, Jr.

The teenager was dressed in a dark medical suit. Its anatomy seemed to be composed of the fusion of a human and a common raven with softer features. Its big yellow eyes together with its small beak gave it an 'adorable' touch.

The room contained green flat screens hanging on the walls that could be unfolded and moved at will because, who else but Bright, had come up with the magnificent idea of uploading his consciousness onto a motherboard before the incident. The screens made up a cluster of technological devices that in unison created a virtual body for Bright's consciousness. The dubious mental health scientist was dancing in front of a screen even bigger than him trying to get the highest score.

—Bright, you have visitors.– Clef yelled, seeing how the consciousness turned to look at him.

—Ah, but they are my old friends, Clef and Louis!

—I'm not your friend.– The french answered.

—It's obvious we're more than friends, I'm like a father to your son.– His shrill voice along with his scolded puppy pout irritated Louis, who grabbed one of the loose cables on the ground that connected the cloning tubes.

—Talk to me like that again and-

—Okay, I got it, no sense of humor today.

The doctor let out a tired sigh and let go of the cable to go to Junior, helping him put together a new amulet for Bright with what he could retrieve from his old necklace. Clef was the one who insisted they revive Jack, after all, if they're going to revive a maniacal psychopath with homicidal tendencies they should take advantage and do it twice. In any ways this new virtual Bright was in his natural state of charisma and questionability, while the pre-incident Bright was more eager to kill than to annoy others.

—Dear Doctor, you have a call from 0-5.– The giant screen projected the logo of the foundation together with the text “0-5 Council requires the presence of SCP-049″ in capital letters.

—Answer.

13 users entered the call, of which only 7 were available; Each and everyone waited in silence for 0-5–1 to start speaking, his filtered and barely recognizable voice calling Louis by his code name.

—SCP-049, thank you for taking the call.

—Is there something you need from me?

—Not really, we just want to see how this…little game of yours is going..

He looked at the screen confused.

—Pardon my ignorance, but which game are you referring to?

—Keeping alive an SCP that was considered Apollyon for a while is not to be taken lightly.

—I agree, 0-5–7, but SCP-035 is in a state of hibernation for many more decades, do not to worry about it for now.

—He's right, he's contained for now, although we don't know what he'll do when he wakes up.

—I'll know what to do, I've been with him for millennia.

The 0-5 Council did not answer, the static coming from the television filled their now little patience.

—SCP-049, for over 50 years you have been reclassified from Euclid to Thaumiel, given permissions and privileges. You were even allowed to become a doctor of the foundation.– The filtered voice had a demanding tone, as if he wanted something in return. —I think it's time for you to realize the weight that you now carry on your shoulders.–

The room was filled with silence, Clef was watching the anomalous camera to avoid the situation and Junior had been sitting motionless in a corner of the basement. The french wrinkled the bridge of his nose with his fingers and tried to understand what the council wanted now.

—We know things about you, about your relationship with SCP-035,– They continue. —And that's why we're going to monitor your little circus more closely. We'll let it continue, but as soon as we detect suspicious activity... Well, I think you won't like being killed by the same spear with which you almost annihilated SCP-035.–

He clenched his fists tightly, bringing both hands to the sides of his hips. He simply accepted his threats and was left alone. The static from the television was no longer heard, nor the echo of electricity. Those present in the basement stopped tensing their bodies to analyze what had happened.

A flash of light alarmed the doctor who saw Clef take a picture of him and the others again. This time the photo projected Louis sleeping next to, what could be made out, Dýo; Bright was in the same position on the roof but with a human body and Junior looked like a smaller boy. Doctor Clef saved the photo and said goodbye to the others to let them continue working.

Between cables and circuits, on the other side of the screen, 0-5-1 was planning a visit to Audapaupadopolis. The man made his way to the Russian arctic, arriving at what is known as SCP-4840, The City Of The First Father. The environment was cold and hostile, making it difficult for him to reach the floating city; He swore that no matter how many times he came to that place, there would always be something new to find. The city had been abandoned for some time, and where dew and morning sun made the stone streets and towers shine, the midday sun revealed its empty and decrepit state.

The man was greeted by the entity listed as SCP-4840-A, an elderly dark-haired man who was the last inhabitant of Audapaupadopolis, of unknown descent, his warm smile giving him a sense of belonging to the strange city.

—Ah... You again.– The older man got up from his seat on the rocks to greet him and invite him inside. —It's been a long time since I saw you. What is the reason for your visit?–

Despite the gentleman's tone, 0-5-1 continued with his indifferent tone in speaking and acting.

—I came to return something that belongs to your kingdom...

The Spear of The Non-Believer came out behind 0-5-1, handing the artifact back to the man, who looked at it in confusion.

—I don't remember taking the Godless Lance out of the realm... I would have noticed its absence...

—Seth, the kingdom of Alagadda had it in their position. The spear was used for what it was created for, it has already served its purpose.

The old man was silent for a while, 0-5-1 waiting impatiently. After a few minutes the man walked towards the city, gesturing for him to follow along.

Upon entering, great walls and structures shaped the last kingdom of men, pillars of mud and sand proudly supported the last legacy of the original creation. The architecture was vaguely Mesopotamian combined with other cultures, and even so, the elegance of the buildings seemed to be eternal.

—There have been changes in the kingdom that you haven't been aware of...

It was something he assumed before he came, he asked anyway. —Would it be possible to know which they are?–

The older man led his counterpart to the west of the giant domain, increasing in complexity the further he went. On his last visit, he remembers identifying SCP's among the walls and statues, prostrating themselves as pre-Hispanic or Greco-Roman-like deities. The carving in the stone projected hundreds of men and women following an iron-crowned king toward the horizon, pointing towards an angelic guardian with a flaming sword in the sky. He continued on his way to find a large statue of a king made of gold sitting on his throne; But that was not what he had been brought to see.

—A few years ago, these masks began to appear under this monolith...– He pointed to the pillar made of blood and flesh behind the throne. —I don't recognize where it comes from but, it wasn't the only change.–

The old man showed 0-5–1 the stone-carved mural on the east side of the hall. It illustrated the scene of a king and his three sons with whom were four more striking figures. A king with a scarlet cape and a flaming crown, a naked woman covered in snakes, a man made of metal and violet feathers, and a sorcerer with purple dyes.

—The metal man... He didn't have feathers before... Nor did the woman have so many snakes.– The mural continued with other smaller entities around it. 0-5–1 was able to recognize some of them as SCP-166, SCP-682, and SCP-2264, also known as Alagadda.

Who was not expected to see in the mural, was the silhouette of Dýo's three-headed beast being dominated by a humanoid with a beak and raven wings.

—That one! That carving is new, the beast and the raven, he wields the spear my father carried.

The foundation member couldn't believe what he was hearing or seeing. That city was destined to contain secrets beyond what any human should know, to protect the history of what was, is and will be. The portrait on the walls only meant that the lovers had become history in their own way, earning the title of divine legend.

—They are unknown to me...– The old man whispered. —And yet I know they've done something important.–

0-5–1 made a grimace at Seth´s declaration and the man noticed it.

—There are secrets that shall stay hidden. Specially their consequences.

The scientist had so much questions. What consequences? Why not tell him? Is there something or someone who does not wish to be revealed? If what those anomalies had caused was gruesome enough not to be told, then who shall know their actions, their desires.

—What is supposed to be portrayed on these walls? Gods, myths?– He asked, distracting his mind from the old man´s confession.

—The last kingdom of men... Protects our legacy... And so everything that has contributed to our history. Protect those we worship, whom we believe.

The image of hundreds of people praying began to invade the mind of 0-5-1.

—Glorious fairy tale warriors do not rest here...

Cain and Able, fighting in his mind.

—Or we praise diplomats.

The Ambassador, murdering Bright.

—We take care of conserving the pure stories, those who shape us. They could be reincarnations...

Kul-Manas in Alagadda's vast library, being brutally murdered by the Black Lord after meeting Louis.

—Kings...

The Hanged King imposing terror on Alagadda, emanating his presence throughout the land.

—Leaders or friends… Even a simple jester has a place here if he has done something.

The Black Lord trying to justify his assassination attempt on the King by using his charisma to no avail.

—But these creatures... They did something that I still haven't understood, which is why they're here, even if I recall the events, I can not comprehend.

0-5–1 ran his hand over the mural, feeling the rough texture of sand and clay. The huge stone had a very beautiful golden color that combined with the rest of the place; He noticed that the drawing contained some chains that kept Dýo and Louis joined by the neck, each collar had the phrase engraved: "HATE SHALL BE LOVED, AND LOVE SHALL BE HATED."

—Each one of us incarnates a sin or a virtue... I am the fault, you are the responsibility... And these curious creatures embody forgiveness and redemption.

A last detail caught 0-5–1, the mural of SCP-049 did not look like him at all, rather, a thousand royal feathers made the figure of a king with a silver pointy crown and sharp golden claws on his index and middle finger. Besides him, disciples of similar descent as him followed to create enormous wings, a navy blue shone with intensity as he pierced through the beast.

And then, 0-5-1 found nothing more to say or express. There was nothing else for him there, the kingdom was not looking for him to understand its answers, only to assimilate them. So he thanked the old man for letting him pass, said goodbye and left the kingdom without looking back. The old man saw him walk away with a lighting never seen before, a warm smile spread on his face to return to his seat from the beginning, reclaiming his position as guardian.

May things know its place, and never be discovered again, for them to reign on chaos, he though, leaving the city for good.

—Can I ask you a rather daring question, Louis?– The scientist looked at him with concern.

—Proceed...

—After everything you went through with Dýo... Do you still love him? Are you still able to tolerate everything he did to you?

The doctor closed his eyes at the question, combing his hair back with his fingers, a heavy sigh escaping his mouth. He looked at Clef with some disappointment, thinking that he wouldn't have to talk about the incident for a long time.

—I do not love Dýo, no more,– He said. —I loved Dýo, I loved what we were before, I loved what he made me feel but... He's not the same anymore.

Clef looked at him pityingly.

—He hurt you, Louis, He tried to kill you.

—Yes, as I have done before.

—He destroyed a divine place to prove something so foolish to you.

—I know Clef, I know.

—Then why...?

—Because I'm dependent, you said it yourself when you found me in the middle of nowhere about to die.

—He abandoned you Louis.

—No, no... It's not like that, he was going to come back for me when I turned-

—Are you listening to yourself when you speak Louis? You're describing the worst possible partner and yet you're still clinging to him!– He took his hands to reason with him. —You are clinging to a version of him that no longer exists, it does not belong to you and neither do you to him.–

Louis felt nothing, and yet he felt a sob come out of him.

—I loved him more than anything and he loved me. He looked at me with eyes full of admiration, he told me the most romantic poems.

The sound of his throat closing broke Clef's heart, who was now embracing the french. An angry scent alarmed Clef, glancing at the doctor.

—But I hate the memory, I hate the need and the dread. I hate having done so many things, so many longings, only to receive an immature and fragile love.– He separated from the scientist. —I could have tolerated him for centuries but when the time comes when he wakes up, I will claim my place in his heart as his murderer.–

That startled the three-eyed, taking the hidden gun under his belt as a precaution. Louis may be human to a certain degree, may have become his friend and have cried for hours on his shoulder; in the end it was an evil entity.

—Monitoring Dýo manually is relaxing for me, it's as if I were talking to him.— He radically changed the subject, his state full of romance and hope returned. Although it was unexpected, Clef appreciated the change, his blue eyes darkened for a few seconds, revealing a deeper color than usual.

The monitor showed Dýo dreams, or fragments of them at least. The vast majority were dreams about the two of them and rarely about Dýo being powerful once more. He couldn't see them complete due to technological limitations but what they got was enough for him. It was fascinating for the entire foundation that Dýo had accepted this "reality" of his within his dreams. He kept admiring the amalgam who was now his soul mate, communicating in his own way.

—Hello Dýo... how have you been?

Within Polonoí's dreams, he listened to his voice as if it were his reality. He replied with a binary code which translated read "I feel at peace."

—I'm glad to hear that... I've been thinking about you today, I really miss you.

Another note that read "Miss me? I'm here, my love."

—I know... It's just my nonsense...

The machine was slow to process the psychic activity of the anomaly, overheating the equipment to the point of causing a short circuit. Both doctors were scared by what happened and quickly tried to fix the problem, but they didn't notice when the machine fixed itself, now creating processes independent of the artifact.

Dýo had freed from the NREM sleep into a conscious, awake state. This alarmed the doctors, Louis running to the glass case that protected the mask to make sure it was okay and it was, he was smiling as always. What completely surprised them was Dýo's distorted voice emitted from the speakers, saying one last sentence before returning to his hibernation state.

—You are as beautiful as the day I lost you.

──────────────────

This chapter contains fragments from SCP-035 and SCP-4840

#olympus scp #scp #scp 035 x scp 049 #scp 049 x scp 035 #scp 035 #scp 049 #scp fanfiction #scp fanfic #dr alto clef #dr jack bright #dr clef #dr bright #Audapaupadopolis #scp 4840 #0-5 #scp 049 j

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exploring8709 · 7 months

Text

I couldn't stop myself

It was the perfect confluence of events. His lilting Irish accent. His old world chivalry. A lavish wedding. A knowing look. His gorgeous cheek bones. His gorgeous hair.

AND I was drunk. SO drunk.

Otherwise, I don't think I would have been there. In an unattended cloak room. Kissing. Groping. I felt his hardness through is dress pants and it dawned on me how long it has been since I've felt this passion. My need. Someone else's need. I missed this physicality. This feeling of strong hands on me. Hardness because of me.

I ran my lips across his neck, his stubble chafing my cheek. I can still remember the smell of his cologne. His rough fingers in my hair, cupping my cheeks, then on my waist. Kissing me like I was the only one in the world. After the week (the month, the YEAR) that I had. I was all about this.

But I don't do this. Dragging a boy into a closet to fill my need. This isn't me is it? My desires were taking control. I was on autopilot. For once, I had a need, and I tried to fulfill it. I pulled him into the cloak room. I shushed his protests. I pushed my lips on to his. I rubbed his hardness through his pants, goading him on. I needed this. I so needed this. My passion, my desire, my outright horniness, stoked by our surroundings, our circumstances, my history.

A sweet baby faced construction worker here for a week, with cheekbones so sharp you could cut glass. Strong arms, strong hands. I feel his muscles through his suit, his hard chest solid to touch. I can hear the wedding just outside the door. That dark mahogany door. What if someone were to open the door? Catch us in the act? I don't fucking care. My cheeks still blush at the thought of my carelessness. My brazeness. My usually better judgement clouded by my desire.

I suck on his tongue as he holds my cheek in one of his hands, his other hand gliding down the rouching of my dress. It stops at my waist and I groan in desire. The groan still rings in my head. I guide his hand lower and I help it pull my dress up, slowly bunching it in our grips as the hem rises higher and higher.

And then he presses me up against the wall and he makes short work of my panties. Serves them right anyways. They were doing a crummy job of hiding how wet I was. Then his fingers were in me. His skillful, thick fingers. In me knuckle deep, and I saw stars. He pinned me to the wall like I was a butterfly on a board. His fingers the sole implement of my impalement, but I was all about those fingers. I break the kiss and my eyes close and I arch my neck, my mouth slack with ecstasy. A soundless wail that was just waiting for this. His thumb brushed my clit and my whole body jerked. I was vaguely aware of the distant wedding din, but I was in no place to care. I wanted this. I needed this. It had been so long.

He held me behind my neck as he stared directly at me, goading me to keep my eyes open. But I couldn't. I wanted to sink into what was being done to me. I wanted to float away on the desire that had been building for a week now. I walk on the razor's edge of being panicked that someone might walk in and being turned on that this is happening, right now, with only a dark mahogany door protecting me from scandal. He watches me react with lust in his eyes, but I felt no shame. One hand rested on his chest while the other covered my mouth in vain, trying to keep my moans from rising above the din outside.

I can hear my pleasure tinged voice, keening over the background noise. My knees are weak and my ankles wobbly as all my energy goes towards keeping his fingers inside me and keeping my voice down. He keeps his eyes on me, devouring my every contortion, every shudder, every vain attempt at maintain my composure. I hear voices pass in front of the door, but I'm so close . . . so ready to release. My eyes plead for him to not stop, even as my one hand clamps tightly over my mouth to keep myself from screaming and and the other lingers on his chest. So close . . . my orgasm . . . embarrassing discovery. The thrill of this private moment being performed in such a (semi) public space. The danger. The lust all roll into one ball as I reach a crescendo.

My legs turn to jelly as I get closer. The fact that the whole wedding was just on the other side of that mahogany door, spurred me on. Was it the potential for humiliation, the secret of what was going on in this dimly lit back room versus what was going on out there. My hips hunch along with his thrusts, like an obscene puppet. My knee and thighs clamp together on his hand, trying to suck him in whole. The waves of pleasure stun me silent as I cum, and cum, and CUM. I fall into his chest, exhausted, but with my head still buzzing with lust.

I took a moment to compose myself with my forehead on his chest, sucking in air as best as I could. Then I gave him a wry smile, and pushed him into an empty chair behind us. I didn't take my eyes from him as I shimmied my dress up, fell to my knees between his legs and pulled his hard, gorgeous cock out. It wasn't too big, it wasn't too small. Like a dirty little Goldilocks, it was just right. I waited until a group of revelers started to pass too close to the door. Irish Lad noticed too and tensed, his arms reaching for mine, getting ready to lift me up to try and maintain a sense of decorum. Sweet boy. I wanted him in my mouth even more for that thought. Honestly, it just spurred me on. As they were just outside the door and he was ready to bounce up, I gave his cock a long languorous lick from his balls to the bulbous tip, and then devoured his cock whole. I saw the split second where worry became lust as my tongue danced around his length, even as my head moved up and down his shaft. It's been a month since I've given head. A month since a cock has been inside my mouth . . . I've missed it. I've missed the sweet feeling of the ultimate manifestation of masculinity passing across my lips and violating my mouth, stretching my lips. His sharp breath and slight pressure on my head banished all thoughts of discovery from his head. I wanted him to cum. I wanted some pleasure for him as he helped me scratch my itch. I wanted pleasure for him to forget his cheating Irish Lass' face. I wanted pleasure for him because it felt so right. I was never going to see him again anyways, so why not?

My pace quickened and his grip tightened. Like at good gentlemen does, he signaled his soon to arrive climax. I answered with a "not on my dress". I loved this dress. And I swallowed him whole again, letting him cum in my mouth. The taste, so specific, so wrapped in so much more, was welcome, but still shocking . . . there's nothing like it outside of these types of moments that compares. I swallowed and swallowed and reveled as his head fell back in ecstasy, unable to keep eye contact. I view that as a win.

After a moment's respite, our eyes lock and we giggle silently. I fall back on my butt and he sprawls in his chair. Then we hurriedly right ourselves. Me straightening my dress, taking a quick shot of my beer, and then fixing my lipstick. Him, wobbling to his feet and zipping his pants up. Guys will always have it easier.

I don't know what that was. Whether it was the alcohol, the wedding, the fact that I was most probably ovulating, the fear of getting caught, the stressful week, the lovely lilt of his accent . . . whatever. That mind bending passion, that line crossing arousal--that is something I want to feel again. Like a drug I was missing in my life. It was intoxicating.

#confession #dear diary #digital diary #singleinthecity #singlegirl #MBAlife #dayinthelife

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lamiasage · 1 year

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Your work reminds me of Euclase, who used to be in the fandom long ago before she went pro. Except it looks like you do paintovers and smudging, which is like Petite-Madame, another great artist who used to be in the fandom. You fit in the middle, but either way it's lovely to see beautiful art being made for our favorite characters.

Oh hey, thank you! 😊💜

I have been in fandom when they were around still and I definitely took some inspiration from their art! I admire Euclase's painterly soft but still very precise realism and the work of color/glow in her later spn paintings and I have definitely looked at a few of her tutorials to figure out my own style (this one for example). I also always loved Petite-Madame's Destiel art, especially the highlighting, and well, I will never forget her beautiful Twist and Shout fanart.

About the latter part of the ask, I actually don't do smudging at all :D I tried it once here, but the smudge tool really overwhelms me. I instead blend with the pipette tool and a soft brush (or, if I keep it more painterly, with a textured brush). It just personally works better for me! And about the paintovers, I actually had to google what that means, but I think as I understand it I don't do that either (I think?) xD I did paintovers back in 2014/2015 when I first eased my way into digital art but did then stop painting completely since it felt like I was cheating and it catapulted me into a 5-year long art block until I felt brave enough to pick up a pen again (sorry if that's too personal and I am being awkward) 😅 I do sometimes stay very close to a reference or a screenshot of the show but I don't paint over it, I just try to recreate it and make it more pretty (in my personal perspective, that's of course very subjective) :D I also try to "loosen" up more with the 'realism' aspect of things lately, and just keep it more textured and painterly, or do some doodles and sketches, and go more nuts with the colors, because I always have the feeling that my perfectionism limits me in what I allow myself to paint (I say while I work on a painting that references a screenshot of the show, but I am trying, I swear, if you look at my latest art! Sometimes a more 'realistic' attempt at painting sneaks into it but I definitely want to be more flexible and upload more stylized stuff as well 😂)

I think when we are talking about styles, I also have to mention other awesome artists in this fandom that I take a big chunk of inspiration from and that influence my own style and processes as an artist :D For example, Winchester-Reload, who obviously is just 💚💙 with her paintings and shading (those cheekbones!!! the beards!!!) and especially the facial expressions and emotions transferred by her art, Diminuel with the highlights and blush and absolutely adorable cuteness, and Clickbaitcowboy with his peak gender art and the way he draws bodies and does stylized illustrations that look very realistic at the same time (how??? sir your art is so pretty). Also Scenteddean, Artmetica, C-Kaeru, Feredir, Werepires, Free-To-Be-Impaled, Naughtystiel, and so so so many more artists who created beautiful art for this fandom and who are just so talented <3

Sorry if my answer was a little bit on the long side! Again, thank you so much. I think it's such a great compliment to be associated with Euclase's and Petite-Madame's styles whose art I definitely looked up to growing up in the fandom 😳 And thank you for being so lovely, I hope my 4 am answering attempt does your ask justice 😭💜

#ask

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sillywolffoxwrites · 8 months

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The End 19th of Flamerule, 1368 - Day 77 Hour 12

We arrived at the temple to my father around noon, although it was impossible to tell in the depths. If Bhaal's temple wasn't hidden so far underground it would be way too obvious for secrecy. Adorned in skulls and bones, both real and carved. Tacky and on the nose if you ask me. Sarevok lay in wait for us inside, it was there he began his villain speech. "Our father who art in murder, sinful be they name! I can become our father's chosen! I WILL BE HIS CHOSEN! This is why he made us Aurelia, bestowed his gift upon so many undeserving mortal wretches. These mothers birthed us, and through us we may help our father to rise again! Cyric will not have been his end! I will kill you Aurelia, prove myself the true heir, activate my blood, and ascend to be fathers chosen. Bow. Bleed." Sarevok drew his sword and advanced A roar burst from behind me as Ferrum lunged forward, hammer in hand. I stepped back to knock an arrow with Imoen, and Jaheira and Khalid followed Ferrum with war cries in their throats. Joining Imoen and I was Yuze, I could smell electricity crackling next to me, the blue light becoming brighter. Leaning into the battle practice we did with Switfkill, Yuze called out "STRIKE!" Ferrum, Jaheira and Khalid ceased their 3 vs 1 sword fight and tumbled away in opposite directions. Yuze aimed his glowing hand at the exposed Sarevok, and fired. I could feel all the hairs on my neck stand straight, and winced as it's heat flew by. Lightning struck Sarevok straight in the chest, leaving a scorching hunk of twisted leather and armor. Sarevok blinked, and looked down at the damage. We all stopped, almost as if in courtesy. Sarevok undid the buckles to his top, pulled at the metal neck with his hands and tore his armor off.

His bare chest was marked with soot - but otherwise unharmed. Lesson learned. Everyone flung back into battle, and Yuze refocused his efforts into supporting the team with his magic instead of attacking Sarevok. In a feat of luck, I got an arrow in-between Sarevok's fingers, mangling his sword hand. "Aughhh! You dishonor me sister!" Sarevok dropped his sword from his mutilated hand and grabbed it with his off hand, holding the whole heft of the giant blade aloft. The battle began to shift, Sarevok's breathing becoming harder. He pommel-struck Khalid, his nose snapping with a crunch and sending him on his backside. Seeing his chance to reduce our numbers, Sarevok ducked and weaved around Ferrum and Jaheira's blows, advancing on Khalid. Imoen and I continued to take shots at Sarevok, our arrows guided ever so slightly around his body by some kind of ward. One of Imoen's arrows broke through and lodged itself into his pauldron, but seemingly not breaking skin. Khalid backed away, scrambling to his feet, blood streaming out his broken nose. His cheekbone began to purple, his face more damaged than I had initially assumed. His eyes widened, and in his pupils, I saw death. Myrkul stared out from those eyes. No Light. No hope. Only terror, only death. It was as if my limbs moved of their own accord. Quicker than I realized I could be, I closed the distance between my brother and I. He jumped and swung down at Khalid, I shot up in between them, my belt knife in the air above my head. Sarevok came down, impaling his throat with the long, sharp blade. We paused for what seemed minutes, his blood on my hands, his sword still hurtling toward Khalid. Time continued, and the fact that my brother was several times my weight came crashing down on top of me. His body wrenched the knife from my hand, still embedded in his neck. In the moment I had put myself between them, Khalid had rolled his injured body to the side, and dodged Sarevok's falling blade by inches. Sarevok and I fell in the empty space, his bulk crushing the air out of me. Trapped underneath him I could hear my companions calling out, their bootfalls as they ran to me. My nose filled with the reek of blood and sweat, unable to block the smell out, every tiny gasp of air a necessity. Once removed, Sarevok softly gurgled, dying. His eyes found mine, intense, not angry, but... He could speak no words But my mind put them to his lips anyway "You are Baahl's Chosen, you have killed me and now inherit my legacy, our father's legacy. You cannot defeat the Lord of Murder by killing me Aurelia, you only do his bidding." Yuze and Ferrum had sat down beside me. I don't know when. "You're shaking" Ferrum put his arm around me, sheltering me between him and Yuze. "Are you ok?" I looked down at my hands, my eyes darted to the knife sticking out of.. the blood trickled and spurted.. and... fratricide. Proved myself the superior murderer. Imoen helped me to my feet. It was a long way back up to the surface. The dukes wanted so much of our time, of our attention - but Yuze was quick to help us exit with some smooth talking and illusion magic to bypass other officials we had not talked to. Jaheira and Khalid would go to a Harper safe house, where Khalid would recover. Imoen took up an apprenticeship with Duke Jannath to learn magic. Yuze was thrilled and was offering her more suggestions than she knew what to do with. She stayed in Baldur's Gate when we left, traveling south to see Minsc and Dynaheir, before we went to see Switfkill. We would stay with her until right before our next adventure. Within a moon of my new siblings' birth, I would be off on a mission for Baldur's Gate. But until then? I was vacationing in a remote Gnoll town that few else knew about. We were safe, and our family, for a moment, was allowed to breathe. - Aurelia

#Baldur's Gate #BG1 #RP #Aurelia #Chapter 7 #The End #fight

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coveholdenmyluv · 9 months

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R. Braun - Honey Soaked Promises

synopsis. In which you reminisce on your quest for revenge, irrigated with broken promises and fermented with betrayal, allowing you to act as the judge between life or death for yourself and the viper dressed in the skin of the love of your life.

— or alternatively, in which you make the stupid decision to fall in love with the wrong person on your journey to freedom...

Oh well, you'll just have to kill him now.

series masterlist

chapter warnings. angst, character death, detailed gore, heavy mentions of suicide

chapter synopsis. First, a look into the future, then, you reap what you sow.

II| From Stefan to Cielo. 11.4K words.

“I have nothing left to lose, it's either I die just standing here and accepting my doom or I die trying to attain a future. I won't go without a fight.”

Make sure to point the blade in the right direction, lest you end up impaling yourself.

Year 851

Violent tremors forming a distinct pattern caused your body to convulse as you sat shielded behind jagged rocks along the cove. Eren's Titan approached, long locks tousled in his face, a fair amount clinging to his skin by the water intertwined within the individual dusky strands, jade eyes glowing brighter than the briny ocean could ever hope to, even during midday. The lengthy boat atop his shoulders being imprisoned by burly tanned arms suddenly gets harshly thrusted upon the ground, effectuating dust and dirt to be thrown astray into the atmosphere.

Shooting up from their seat, Hange makes their way to the apex of the small cliff you all crowded on and makes their presence known. "Hello, friends from Marley! Welcome to Paradis Island!" They announce buoyantly, spreading their arms in a welcoming motion. "I'm Hange, here to greet our guests who've come so far across the sea," They forge a giggle before continuing, "Now, step this way and join us for some tea! By the way, we're already friends with this guest that arrived before you! Isn't that right, Niccolo?!"

Said man was quivering as the short man behind him surreptitiously pressed a blade to his back. Gritting his teeth, the blonde braces himself for the outcome of his next decision. "Captain! Forget about me and shoot these devils!"

"-What are you saying, Niccolo?!" Hange drawls as they near their head closer to the man, arms draped along his neck as he continues to cry out to his director.

"He's saying, he's tired of your shitty skit." Levi informs his comrade impassively.

"Understand this, you devils! Marley doesn't mingle with filthy blood!" The captain on the boat shouts as he readies his weapon. A dry chuckle escapes your throat at the irony of his statement.

'Guess not all of Marley received that memo.'

"Go drink your pig piss with your filthy friends!" The man continues.

"Aw, hey! You sure you wanna be rude to us? You might piss off the Titan looming behind you."

Admittedly, Eren did look terrifying. The tenebrous lighting enveloping his form accentuated the mountains and valleys of his muscles. Steam billowed the aroma around him, seeping from his skin in waves that mimicked those of the vast sea behind him. Brown mane framing his face, only adding to the mass amount of shadows shaping the crevices of his cheekbones. Visible jaw showcasing the chompers he gritted, and eyes holding nothing but pending malice, almost daring the intruders to test the strength of his malignancy.

All of this only seemed to encourage the Marleyan militia further. "Marley will never bend down to the devils!" The soldier yelled as he readied his weapon to fire, directly aimed at the three standing at the apex.

"Sasha." You nudge the girl next to you, encouraging her to prepare to take action before the man could press his trigger, which she accedes.

"Say hello to this!" He threatens, causing Hange to squeal in surprise.

BANG!

The gun's bullet blast rang through the air and caused every rhythm of breaths to cease and face to wince.

But as you survey the scenery before you, an unforeseen outcome makes it's presence known, effectuating your jaw to hang slightly. The gun that had been fired, belonged to neither the soldier nor the girl at your side, but instead another Marleyan trooper. And instead of aiming at Hange, like their captain was, they murdered that very captain, by putting a bullet in his head.

Several others point their weapons at their fellow comrades as the deceitful soldier reveals their face. "Hange, I'd be happy to accept your invitation." The woman, now visible to you, announces. "Let's have tea."

Both Hange and Levi give each other a dubious look, demonstrating their perplexity.

"They're actually talking to them." Connie states, sitting at your other side. Both of your superiors were in the middle of interrogating the foreigners with a means to discern their true intentions. Eren had already exited his Titan and made his way to sit in safety with the rest of your group.

"What else are they supposed to do?" Jean asked, already having acquiesced the adversity in the situation you were placed in.

"I don't know but... that huge lady of theirs shot and killed her comrade. I wonder what her goal is." Connie responded with an apprehensive expression.

"Why does Marley always do stuff like this? It's like once you think your making progress in figuring them out, they do the worst shit possible to debunk your position." You inquire, the question not being directed towards anyone but the moon.

"Who knows? Whether friend or foe, she's not to be trusted." Jean replies.

Mikasa grabs Sasha by her pony and scolds the girl, "No napping Sasha." And then releases her grip, forcing you to extend your own palms in an effort to spare the snoozing girl from the pain she would feel if her face met the rock she laid her head on.

"Mikasa." You lightly reprimand the girl, the ghost of a playful grin playing on your lips as Sasha's face laid in your hands. The ravenette only matched your expression, revealing that she knew you'd act to save the brunette at your side.

"But they're willingness to share information is unbelievably lucky for us." Armin adds positively, his expression exuding hope.

"Yeah, we've been really lucky." Eren pipes up from behind you, causing you to pivot your neck to gaze at the boy, his Titan marks were still engraved into his skin.

"You think so?" You ask.

"Well, considering we stopped their landing by pure chance. If Marley comes in force, we'll be screwed." He answers and then meets your gaze. "Hey, I've actually been meaning to speak to you. Can we talk?"

"Oh, sure." You agree and gently place your friend's head back onto her resting place where she continues to snore. "We can-" You start before being interrupted by a call of your name.

"Y/N. We're going to speak in further detail with the Marleyans, your presence is needed." Levi announces as he stood closer to the camping ground.

"Yes, sir. I'll be right there." You answer, standing from your spot before further addressing the boy who wished to speak to you. "Sorry, Eren. We can talk after?" You offer.

"Yeah, go ahead." He agrees.

"Thanks." You reply, placing your palm on the top of his head as you pass him by and take your leave.

You enter the olive green tent with both Hange and Levi at your side, the two foreigners had already been sat at the table placed in the middle, both donning their white uniforms bar the helmets. The tent was brightly lit with the lantern placed overhead, casting a golden hue to everything that stepped in it's wake. You took the seat between the comrades at your side, placing you directly before your impromptu visitors.

"Alright, let's get down to business." Hange announces, placing their own weapon onto the surface of the table along with the unfamiliar one of the Marleyan militia. "First of all, let's address these weapons." They then begin to inspect the object with the utmost curiosity, unloading and reloading the magazines.

"And who might this be? Another superior in your military? She looks young." The blonde woman asks, eyes lighting up at the prospect of furthering her knowledge.

"Introductions can be made after, don't get too comfortable. We're only hearing you out." Levi asserts, extending an arm to shield you momentarily, his hardened gaze supporting his statement.

"Ah! I see, that's how it shoots a bunch." Hange exclaims in realization.

Lifting her steaming tea cup towards her face, the blonde woman explains, "That's standard-issue in Marley." She pauses to sip at her drink, "The Marley army has twenty thousand soldiers per division; with fifty divisions."

"One million soldiers...?" You exhale, your mind having trouble comprehending the number. Before the reclamation of Wall Maria, the amount of soldiers enlisting in the Scouts was rarely ever high in the double digits and while that amount has risen since then, it could never compare to the millions of Marley.

"Roughly, and there's also the navy with three fleets, each comprised of twenty one battleships. They've made tremendous progress in new weapons and aerial warfare as well." She continues.

"Aerial...?" Hange pronounces slowly. Levi scoffs and his boot clad foot makes contact with your own, communicating with you to pass the action on to your commander, which you do so, making sure your version is lighter than what the man had intended for it to be.

"Don't freak out, or they'll think we're weak." He explains in a low voice.

"I know!" Hange replies, voice mimicking his own.

"Aerial... as in the existence or happening in the air?" You inquire, your curiosity seeping into your face.

"Specifically, vehicles allowing one to attack an enemy from the sky." The man further explains, causing your eyes to widen.

Sprouting up from their seat suddenly, Hange exclaims, "Huh?! From the sky?!"

"Hey." Levi reprimands them yet again, before he moves his gaze to you and speaks in a low voice. "How did you know that?" He asks, eyeing you questioningly.

"...I've heard it in passing, in the past, I think." You utter lowly. It wasn't a fully fledged lie, so you don't allow yourself guilt. Though, Levi's eyes told you that he caught on, but made no further acts to question you.

"If Marley had such capabilities this whole time, why haven't they attacked in over a year?" Hange asks.

"There are two main reasons: One being the Pure Titans released here. Even with the latest weapons, they would hinder a land assault. They were used as a tool to confine Eldians within the walls, but in turn they've protected Eldia from invasion."

"Yeah, well ain't that funny?" Levi deadpans.

"Though, dawn is coming soon and that's when Titans are active." The woman continues and looks to her right, "But if we're way out here, sipping on tea outside the walls, you must've killed all the Titans roaming around." She pivots her head towards you and the two at your side. "Is that true?"

"And what if it is? You gonna report it to Marley?" Levi asks, malice present in his tone.

"If you even manage to escape our island in the first place, that is." You add, eyes narrowing at the blonde.

"On the contrary, it simply blows away my expectations." She utters with an astonished glint in her eyes.

"...And the second reason?" Hange inquires hesitantly.

"Currently, Marley is at war with multiple nations. They can't be bothered with Paradis. You defeated the warrior unit, the pride of Marley, and captured two of their main weapons, the Colossal and Female Titans; Marley's many enemies were quick to take notice and were even quicker to unite and declare war."

"So, you guys have been, what?...Infiltrating Marley? Even with the military unit they have, you've found a way to take them down?" You ask.

"And, if you guys are secret agents who infiltrated Marley, I'm guessing you came from conquered nations?" Hange adds, before they take their silence as an answer, "Oh, we're right?! If you're going up against Marley, I bet you've got some big backers!"

The woman places her cup onto the table, creating a small clinking sound, "We're not secret agents or anything of the sort. We were powerless, Marley took our homes and forced us to be soldiers. We were so close to losing hope at ever striking back." She explains and the thought of what she, the man next to her, and their people had to endure made your heart ache.

"Until, we met him." She declares, a dreamy stare etching itself onto her face, "A Titan that the people of the world feared, calling it a devil. But I saw something completely different... a god. One that gave hope to the powerless."

The way she spoke of the Titan had made it seem as if he himself had already saved her and her people from Marley's clutches.

"Under Zeke Jaeger's command, we shot our superiors. We're the Anti-Marleyan Volunteers.

Our goal: to free the Eldian people."

Year 845

The sun was nigh of its peak in the sky by the time you were awoken. You had always dreamt of opening your eyes to the sun's strident shafts of light peeking through your eyelids.

You thought of what you'd do, maybe grab some covers to shield your face, sit up and listen to the melody of the birds chirping as the sound became less muffled in your ears and your brain expelled the fog that misted inside of it. Take a deep breath to savor the fresh air and gulp down chilled water that you'd get from a river.

You had never seen a river before and you wondered what it would taste like or the sound it would emit. That dream almost seemed an arms length away that morning, as if you could've grasped it with your fingers if you stretched far enough.

You never imagined that the sound you'd actually be awoken by, would be Cielo's voice.

Cielo's timid and soft voice that you had only heard a handful of times, though it had already found itself ingrained into your cortex.

That time, it was Cielo saying your name.

Cielo yelling your name.

Cielo's sobs.

'Why is Ciel crying?' You asked yourself.

"Y/N! Y-Y/N make him stop, please!"

Steadily peeking your eyes open, you allowed them to adjust to the lighting, beginning to make out three figures in front of you.

'Who else is here?'

The more you blinked, the clearer your vision became and the better you were able to discern the figures before you.

Cielo had been crouched with his back towards you, his arms spread as if to shield you from something that had not yet been revealed to your eyes. And then you saw it. The color you had gotten acquainted with in your dream just the night before, still not remembered by yourself, only this time it was not a dream.

Stefan was laid on the floor, crimson staining his once pulchritudinous blonde hair and spewing out of his bottom lip. And set right on top of him, was a man in a Military Police uniform.

You could recognize that green emblem anywhere at anytime: It was the same as the soldier that had allowed you to escape, just the day before. The man on top of Stefan had black hair too, only instead of an almost mullet, he wore his in an undercut that had been parted to the side. He had tan skin, sunken brown eyes and crimson, matching that of Stefan's, staining his skin.

Stefan must have landed a few hits of his own before you awoke but the difference was that most of the tinted liquid was embedded in his knuckles; evidently, the blood hadn't seeped from his own body.

Stefan was in the middle of a brawl with a fully grown man and he was fighting back. Scratching, biting, pulling and punching any part of his body that he could touch. There had even been a point in which he flipped both of them over so that he was above him, only to be placed onto his back once again.

The air that had been stripped from within your lungs had made it difficult, but still you yelled, "Stefan... who the hell- what are you doing to him?! You're hurting him!", you directed at the man.

It looked to have caught his attention as he halted his fist midair, just inches above the twelve year old's bloodied and beaten face. "He's the one that attacked first, this ain't my fault. Don't worry, you'll be next once I'm done with him." He stated nonchalantly, despite the purple bruises littering his own face.

Stefan had been heaving at that point, his face almost unrecognizable due to the reds, purples, and blues. The only sounds he emitted were those of his breaths and the thwack his wet skin made when coming into contact with the man's fist.

"Let him go!" You yelled as you leapt over Cielo's head and ran towards them with clenched fists. You yanked on his hair and jacket with one hand and used the other to strike him in any place you could. The only results it expelled being a harsh elbow to your face in an attempt to prevent your defiance, knocking you back a couple of feet.

"No.." Stefan whimpered, "Run, Y/N. Take Cielo-" his once mesmerizing forest green pearls were no more, replaced with blood shot, half lidded and dark nephrite, all the while they gazed into your own. His voice had barely even been audible, consisting of rasps.

A rattling gun halted his sentence.

The man seemed to have had enough of beating on a child, and had instead opted to pointing his gun in your direction. "Listen kid, all I need is to put a bullet into your head and I'll be on my way. Orders are orders, and I'm looking to get promoted." His words were directed at you and with trembling hands, he brought his weapon to his face and took aim.

Stefan's blood soaked body stood suddenly and while it should have been horrifying to witness, having looked like he had risen from death, it brought tears to your eyes because if he was standing, that meant he would be okay.

And then he tackled the man to the ground where they began to wrestle but you knew that if you allowed it to continue, the bullet was to be inevitably shot and into whose body it would burrow itself in was still inconclusive.

You growled animalistically, overcome by your primal instincts, jabbed your fingers into the man's dull black strands and yanked with all the strength your little arms could muster. "You bastard, leave us alone!" You ordered, blood spilling from your nose due to the earlier elbow to the face that you had taken.

Though, your actions only seemed to have angered him more before he deemed he had finally had enough and re-positioned his weapon. Only that time, it wasn't you he had aimed for, it was Stefan.

The scenery encircling your form had began to decelerate, yet again, but it wasn't to allow you to admire a heavenly backdrop painted before you. No, your mind had done that to ensure that you engraved even the smallest of details from the moment that altered everything you knew, forevermore.

The depth of the man's scowl and how he had seemed to be running on pure rage. The width in which Stefan's eyes had grown when the realization of just who was in his bullseye had sunken in. Tears had built in their corners and he shoved you away slightly, even though you had already been safe from the barrel, he did so as an act to protect you nonetheless. A last-ditch effort to shield you from what you were about to witness.

But it had already been too late.

You were falling when the shot rang in your ears, your arms outstretched as if the action would somehow thwart the bullet from piercing Stefan's face.

But that's exactly what it did.

Precisely in the middle of his dirty blonde brows was a hole the width of a bullet and alizarin crimson spewed from the same spot behind his head. His body hit the ground with a heavy thud, warm liquid made its way around his small form and drenched the vibrant blades of grass beneath him. It leisurely made its way to a bundle of campanulas, the stems seemed to be intertwined with each other to form a short circle.

It looked as if someone had been crafting a crown out of the delicate violet blossoms, just a second ago.

Your bum met the ground harshly but you didn't even wince, all you could do was stare. Gape at the young boy before you that had once held the most spirited, most unearthly vivid forest green pearls for eyes that you had ever seen. Watch them dull with every passing moment. His body had went limp and his empty stare bore into yours as your muscles proved worthless. It was as though the world around you dulled along with his eyes and you could do nothing but watch it go on.

You could still lucidly pinpoint the same exact second that his kind soul departed from this cruel world. The moment he had truly left you behind with naught but yourself to care for Cielo.

Cielo.

It was only then that his cries had reached your ears; piercing and horrifying. His celestial mercury eyes held nothing but pure anguish and fear. He was terrified.

The devil of a man hadn't seemed to have cared, only groaned as he pivoted towards him and turned his gun so that the barrel had faced his own body. For a moment, you thought he had been going to use it on himself.

You wished he had.

But instead, he used the long handle as a bat and aimed to strike the boy. "Be quiet, you runt!" He spat and swung his weapon, but before it could make contact with Cielo's puffy and red face, your hand took hold and gripped it, effectively halting it midair.

"Y/N!" Cielo cried.

This next part might make you sound a bit demented but:

A bolt of electricity made its way throughout your entire body, from head to toe, and it forced you to act. It gave you the strength to fight. Your body knew exactly what had to be done.

With newfound power you didn't know where came from, you grabbed the weapon from his hold and with the wooden handle, you swept the floor from under him and began to strike. You bashed every part of his body that you could catch a glimpse of, his stomach, ribs, legs, crotch, and face.

Your vision grew bleary but the vermillion was unmistakable. It flew every which way including to his own body under you. Ironically, your garments kept untarnished as if you hadn't been pummeling him to the ground, bar the minuscule splats that soaked into your shoes, chin and nose; though the latter had originated from your earlier attempt to subdue the man below you. It had almost looked as if it had never happened.

Unfortunately, it did happen and it was extremely real.

With a heaving chest, you continued and didn't plan to stop until the man was unrecognizable and no longer had the capability to heave along with you. You weren't going to stop and frankly, you didn't want to.

That man had ruined everything. You were finally achieving true happiness and so were your most cherished people, but then that monster trudged in, stomped on your paradise, and removed the person you knew as home. You could've never imagined a life in which Stefan was absent, but that monster had made sure that you were going to suffer through it nonetheless.

But you had to stop.

"Y/N, stop! Please!"

You needed to stop.

"Y/N, he's had enough!"

You didn't want to stop.

"Stefan wouldn't want this!"

You stopped.

The weapon clattered onto the ground, and you fell along with it as your knees gave out. You stared at your broken victim with horrified eyes as pitiful cries fell from your lips. He had unfortunately, still been heaving and groaning though he no longer held the ability to move or clutch his head or crotch from the seemingly never-ending physical pain you had dealt him as he had dealt you emotionally. His skin had been drenched with his own blood, Stefan's was no longer visible on any part of him and though you were proud of that fact, he was still alive. And that angered you.

Through broken sobs, Cielo uttered, "T-there's people and they're coming this way, N/N. W-we need to go." He pointed in the direction of the village you had never quite made it to.

A group of residents approached you from far-away. If you left then and ran as fast as you could, they most likely wouldn't have even noticed that you both were there.

So you didn't hesitate once, only taking a split-second to glance at the what was once the warmest body, slowly turn cold and his now dull green eyes, and fled. You snatched Cielo into your arms and sprinted because you couldn't lose him too.

You clutched him to yourself and ran with such velocity that your legs had already began to burn. You made your way through the field of grass that you had played a game of tag in, just a few hours prior. Though that time, you weren't purposefully slowing your pace so that a certain dark haired boy would be able to pass on the role of the attacker. That time, you didn't falter in your step once.

As you were running, the way you had held the younger boy allowed him to catch his own last glimpse at the now dead body that he had once deemed his brother, blood be damned. And he reached a hand full of stubby fingers out, just as he had done to the clouds the day before, only that time, when his attempts turned futile, he wasn't content with the results.

He wished so badly that his arms had been long enough to touch his brother one last time, but even then, what would it have done? He was already dead. Simply a corpse destined to rot in whatever those people approaching placed him in.

Both of your eyes were filled with tears but you hadn't been sobbing. No noise had escaped both of your lips bar the exhausted breaths.

You had ran for what felt like multiple days, in reality it was only an hour or two. One or two hours of propelling yourself forward because if you delayed your pace even once, you would've been done. Those civilians would catch you and there existed no situation in which they would take your side.

That man was not but a mere soldier. He was a Military Police officer that served the monarchy and you had just beaten him bloody. They would strip you of your baby brother and throw you in a cellar, if you were lucky.

The only instance in which you allowed yourself to falter was when you saw an opening along the wall from a distance, a hoard of houses placed directly before it.

A gate.

You concluded that, that must've been Wall Maria and if luck was on your side this once, that gate led to Shiganshina, one of the outermost districts. You could lie low there for however long it took for you both to feel safe enough. Although you found that hard to imagine without Stefan by your side.

Still, that was your new designated destination and though there could be Garrison soldiers posted for security, if you flew by fast enough, hopefully they wouldn't be fast enough to catch, let alone notice, you.

"Okay, Ciel. Just a bit longer, I promise, s-so hold on tight." You attempted to reassure the boy that sat in your arms. Without awaiting his response, you sped up as the gate began to rapidly approach.

You ignored the houses scattered before it and the moment you reached the opening, you rounded the corner and sprinted inside. Noticeably less sunlight entered the small tunnel but enough that you could still harbor clear sight. The ground had morphed into pure solid dirt and the walls, along with the curved roof, had entirely consisted of tight bricks and prolonged planks.

Under what could be considered an awning that you headed into, stood two kids who looked to be around your age, and a blonde grown man. The tallest of the three displayed rosy cheeks and lidded brown-hazel eyes, and as he took in your appearance, his once crooked smile contorted into one full of concern.

The children he had been conversing with halted their words as they took note of how his attention had altered.

The first that turned their head in your direction was a girl with long and silky jet-black hair. She held mercury eyes that were nearly identical to those of the boy in your arms. She had been dressed in a long, light pink, sweater with a white gown underneath and an oxblood colored scarf tossed around her neck.

Next to her had stood a boy with bushy tree trunk colored hair that had barely been shorter than your own, his eyes had yet to be revealed as he had his back still turned to you. He adorned an olive green long sleeve with a dark brown sweater thrown atop. Both kids carried multiple wooden sticks strapped to their backs.

The blonde man started, with his arms outstretched to quell your panicked state, "Hey, hey, what's the situation?" But you paid him no heed. You kept your pace and flew past the group as the brunet finally decided to pivot his neck to face your direction. Just as you had passed by his face, his teal eyes met yours.

In the very scarce books that you took ahold of while in the underground, Stefan had grown instantly enamored with those containing unknown information on any and every type of blossom. While you yourself quite enjoyed those same pages, what had always truly called your name, were the gems. The multiple jewels that glimmered and gleamed as bright as the stars were a subject you enjoyed reading on.

His eyes matched the one that, you had informed Stefan, was your favorite- though you could not recall the name.

Those same eyes widened as they made contact with your own and they didn't return to their normal size, nor did they pull away until you had fully retreated from his gaze.

"What was that about?" Uttered the small girl beside him.

"I don't know, poor kids seemed terrified. Do you happen to know them? Their parents?" Asked the lanky blonde, to which both children denied.

"Maybe I ought to go check on them... she was running pretty fast though, I don't know if I'd be able to catch up." He muttered to himself, though his words had reached the boy before him.

The brunet growled and sent a menacing glare at the older man. "Well maybe if you and your comrades weren't downing every bottle within your sight, you'd be able to catch up to her! What are you gonna do if the titans attack?!" He yelled as he flailed his arms.

"Oh lord, not this again Eren."

You sat on your knees, hunched over a small empty bucket that you assumed had once been someone's trash can, in a dead-end alley. The exhaustion had finally decided to take its toll on your body, adrenaline having run out. Cielo's comforting hand did its best to sooth you on your back as you hurled all of your pent up emotions into the piece of junk you had found. You stayed like that for a while before you had enough and shoved the, now closed, can away from you.

Cielo had been the first to speak, causing you to look his way. His glassy eyes stayed trained on the ground as he held his bottom lip between his teeth, the skin around his eyes and nose were the most pigmented you had ever seen. "...Y/N, I'm scared." His voice trembled.

"I know, Ciel. Me too," You had heaved before you placed both hands atop his shoulders. "but I promise you, as long as we're together, you won't have to worry about a thing." You attempted to reassure while your eyes, contradictorily, began to grow weepy and your voice trembled. "I'll take care of you, and we'll get justice for Stefan. There exists nothing in this world that I will ever allow to take you away too. Not you."

Tears trickled down your cheeks, but the look in your eyes had altered into one of fierce conviction. "And if such a thing were to exist, I'd butcher every human being, overthrow even the monarchy, eradicate all titans, and level each district until there is nothing left standing in between you and I." Your soaked eyes softened and your palms reached towards him, cupping each of his cheeks that acted as a mirror to yours. "Because you, Cielo, are more precious to me than anything that this surface could offer. And if that destroys me in the process, then so be it, but I'll be damned if I don't go down without a fight."

He stood motionless as your words marinated in his brain, his mercury eyes trained on his fiddling thumbs. "Do you want to know what I want most in this world?" He whispered.

"What's that, love?" Your voice mimicked his in size, for you feared that if you spoke any louder, your broken composure would make itself known.

You had once again been met with the eyes that held your entire being in their palms, they coddled your delicate soul that was always meant to be handled with the utmost care, something Cielo had been certified at. "For you to be happy, and content. But most of all, I want to do well on our promise to Stefan!" He exclaimed the latter part of his sentence with his eyes squeezed shut, and his breath began to grow heavy.

"Not only because it was his dream, but because I know that it's yours too! You said you were afraid of change, and I think that's the only thing holding you back, but I saw your face when we first came onto the surface and when we were running! You loved it, I know you did! Please, Y/N, just dream of all the possibilities!" He began to sob as he ended his declaration, and for once, he had dealt you speechless and static because it was then that you had realized that little Cielo was not so little anymore. His words, that seemed to overflow like a broke dam just as his tears did, held wisdom on par with that of a veteran's.

He had seen the same horrific scenes that you had, felt the same shattering of his world as you had, only his mind had been far less developed than yours. And yet there he was, the core guide that directed you down the right path. Forcing you to abandon one that reeked of death and blood, a sanguinary. That was just how Cielo was, that's how you hoped he always would be.

He then reached into his pocket that had once held the winged friend you had taken home and gave the push that was needed to begin your journey, and slipped out a blade.

Stefan's blade.

The same one he had used on your hair so often. Cielo held it out to you, and you had wondered how he even managed to possess it because Stefan wouldn't have ever handed it over willingly even if it was enveloped in the sheath that it had been then.

You took ahold of the weapon and as you wrapped your palm around the handle, you felt the ghost of the older boy's hand swaddle your own and caress you with his warm fingers.

"He gave it to me earlier, when the man first appeared." He explained, his face winced at the recollection of his memories just seconds before tragedy had struck. "For protection, I guess. Although, I wasn't much help at all; not like how you were." His thoughts countered your own, for you saw your actions amount to nothing. "But I swear, that man lied! O-or not really, since Stefan did hit first... but it was only because he said he wanted to hurt you! Stefan was only trying to protect us." He explained and you concurred that he had spoke of the man's earlier words that claimed Stefan had 'attacked first'.

Your breath hitched and you whimpered slightly before allowing your emotions to overtake your being. As you threw your arms around him and he joined you on the ground, you found yourself ceaselessly thanking the universe for allowing a minuscule piece of your world to remain, the thread tethering your sanity. And you held your greatest treasure in your arms, cradled him with all the love, care and gratitude that your shattered heart could render, and cried with him.

Wailed, wept and bawled for the person that kindled the flame in both of your souls, was no more. Snuffing out the warmth it bestowed you, in the process. Stefan was gone, and he was never going to return. But his memory and aspirations retain the ability to persist within you. The chance to make his dreams a reality existed and that fact made your heart flare with emotion that your poor little body could barely handle.

So yes, you cried and so did Cielo.

You mourned in the comfort of each others warmth up until the sun had began its decent. The once cerulean blue void above you had been re-painted a golden hue, the same hue you admired the day prior; only that time, with one less warm body beside you.

Cielo had fallen into a deep slumber against you, with the aid of your fingers carding through his tufts, and you had planned to follow before you recalled the fact that neither of you had ingested anything the entire day. You wouldn't let your still aching heart thwart your mission to care for Cielo to the best of your ability.

The bottle in your right pocket, that you had acquired from the home you fled, whined your name; the other, still heavy with the last memento left by your dearly beloved.

You slipped the bottle into your hands and inspected the still unknown substance inside. The color matched that of the sky and the air bubbles created constellations that you attempted to name. Your fingers unscrewed the cap and as you pulled it off, the same hypnotizing scent clouded your senses.

The label read the word 'Honey' and you crowned it as your favorite aroma because it reminded you of home. No matter how badly you had once yearned to escape, it was still the place that had raised you along with Stefan and Cielo. It served as a reminder of the dump you originated from and you hoped that it would allow you to remain humble and grateful.

'Bread would probably pair well with this, I wonder if anyone near is selling.'

And with that, you had decided that you would gift Cielo a new treat for dinner, and although it could never alleviate the anguish in either of your hearts, you hoped that it would provide a temporary comfort. You carefully placed him onto the ground and made sure he was not visible by wrapping the, larger than him, sweater that Stefan had gifted him around his body.

You were relieved at the fact that the boy was forever a heavy sleeper, for not even a screeching whistle could cause him to stir. You'd have to just about pry his eyes open with your own hands, should the need for his conscious presence arise.

And just as you had done many times in your old home, you began your search for supper.

Your stroll through Shiganshina brought upon many familiar sights. There had still been mischievous children running about the town, the same useless arguments between the civilians behind and the civilians in front of the stalls laid about. Nearly identical brawls strewn around, though they were noticeably far less gory. The only advantages Shiganshina harbored were in the numbers of security.

The district you had deemed well enough to someday make domicile had almost been an exact replica, though the interior of the houses had yet to be inspected. The minuscule differences that had caught your eyes were the clothes that the townspeople donned, the houses looked like actual homes and were dramatically less crowded, the air was obviously clearer, the evident towering wall that enclosed it, and a foreign noise that reached your ears.

It stole your attention and sounded like a current of some kind, a nose-nipping breeze swept along with it.

Running water.

You let your ears and feet guide you entirely, palms resting on your eyelids when the need to heighten your senses arose. You arrived at the part of town where the homes ceased and the stoned floor dropped into a short ledge. Just beneath where you stood, laid solid dirt that eventually faded into water.

A river.

The way in which the gold colors of the sky reflected off of the ripples had made it seem everlasting in your eyes, as if it was entirely aureate. The current carried all of the wonder in the world, or at least all the wonder a ten year old harbored, it unlocked new and unthought of questions:

Where does it end? How deep does it go? What's the temperature like? How does it feel? Can you drink from it? What would it taste like, if drunk straight from the source? Will Stefan and Cielo like it?

'Oh, that's right... it doesn't matter if Stefan would like it, cause he's dead.'

You couldn't imagine yourself getting used to the way your eyes would dull at the thought.

You crouched onto the ground, right before the ledge, and hugged your knees to your chest. Gazing at the body of water before you, you listened to the soothing tune it whispered into your ears, creating a sort of ambiance. To your dismay, your eyesight had begun to blur yet again, reminding yourself of the fact that you had still been walking the stage of not having the ability to think about the boy without breaking down.

You slipped out the still sealed blade from within your pocket and ran the pad of your index finger over every singular scrape and scratch that the case adorned.

The answer was yes. Stefan would've loved the river. He would've adored the townspeople. He would've enjoyed and thrived in all the sounds, sights and feelings your new life had to offer.

He also, without a shadow of doubt, would've wiped away the tears on your face, but then again they wouldn't have even existed if he were there with you.

You unsheathed the blade and found yourself staring at your own reflection, you looked worse for wear and utterly exhausted.

Void lifeless eyes that carried your grief and despair, wet streams trickled down your face, your lips were swollen and a shade darker from the trauma you induced upon them both as you bit into them to suppress your voice from seeping through the cracks. A smudge of blood still stained a spot above your jawline.

If your soul was a wilted flower, then Stefan's death was the hand that plucked it directly from its soil.

You shut your eyes and began to wipe your face with your own fingers, begging yourself to imagine Stefan's in place of your own. You pictured the dirty blonde bouncy wisps of hair that caressed his forehead and his soft loving eyes, his taunting smile and you heard the embarrassingly proud guffaw he would emit so often that was so infectious, you couldn't ever help but join him.

Unexpectedly, in the midst of your reminiscing, the minuscule hairs on the back of your neck stood at attention. For a reason unknown, your nerves were on edge and your body halted all movements.

With your brows furrowed, you glanced around your surroundings in search for the cause.

E/C met teal once again.

The same pair of jewels you had encountered upon your arrival to Shiganshina, though they had seemed to be graced with a dash of jade due to the difference in lighting that bathed your bodies. The owner was sat, not too far away, and in the company of two more children that appeared to have been around the same age. You recognized one as the girl with the mesmerizing long silky black hair and red scarf securely snugged around her neck.

The newest addition that completed their trio was a boy with golden strands of hair that looked as if they had been plucked directly from the sun's halo itself, complete with brilliant azure eyes.

You held eye contact with the first mentioned, your own still glimmering at the rim with unshed tears due to your stubbornness while his right hand lifted itself slightly in a weak attempt at a wave, and the world had seemed to still, quite literally. The refreshing breeze that had once been invigorating to your grieving state had dissipated. Conversations simmered down, citizens halted their activities, and the birds their chirping.

Trepidation.

Then, it began.

A boisterous crackling rumble erupted, along with a resplendent bolt of lightning that shook the ground as a whole, effectively causing yourself and the trio to spring up a few feet into the air only to then crash back onto the ground. Gasps filled to the brim with concern and uneasiness flowed as a collective throughout the small town.

"W-what was that?"

"An explosion?"

The brunet began to register his surroundings, which had taken him longer due to his previous tumble, and his head unknowingly guided his eyes back to the position you had been sat in, but alas you had already fled.

As did everyone else, the second you recollected yourself, your feet had taken you to where you had heard the sound originate from, but as you were on your way, you were obstructed by a crowd of citizens gathered in a place that gave you clear vision of the wall.

The outer wall had a giant hand clutched onto the very top from the other side.

"No way, that wall is fifty meters high!"

"It's them..."

The monstrosity revealed its abnormal face with steam billowing its harsh stare directed upon the small district.

"Titans!"

And then, Shiganshina's outer gate had been broken through with debris soaring every which way - collapsing on houses, squashing humans like they were nothing but mere bugs, and a new wave of air, much more powerful than one you'd ever felt, swept some away.

"I-it broke a hole in the wall..."

Out of that hole, appeared a huge frightening face that smiled and bared its yellow teeth, its dull stare fixed onto nothingness.

"The titans are getting inside!"

If you weren't already dead due to the flying debris, the Titans flooding in would surely get the job done.

"One's coming, the Titans are inside!"

Everyone who retained a right mind began to hustle the other way with no clear destination in their path but they paid no heed, anywhere away from the greedy mouths invading their homes would've been enough.

Cielo had been your first thought, you had to race to him before any of those devil incarnations reached him first.

"Cielo." You breathed as you turned in the opposite direction of the wall, your heart rate spiking, for different reasons than all the others doing the same.

Unfortunately, because of the crowd, you wound up being shoved around by the fleeing crowd. You were thrusted to the ground where you were forced to curl up and protect your head, lest you have your skull trampled in. Few were considerate enough even in their states of panic to avoid your body, while others weren't so much. You felt every stomp and kick that was dealt upon your small body by the townspeople.

Another difference you discerned from your old home, was that the shoes of the citizens of the surface were far sturdier than the ones of the underground.

No visible opening presented itself with the hefty crowd that headed your way, but you desperately needed to make your way to Cielo and get him to safety.

So, you allowed your body to act in the only way that your mind could conjure up. You shifted yourself so that you laid horizontally and kicked your leg out and upward, causing many that trampled over you to plummet to the ground. Escaping civilians fell one by one and, in an effort to avoid the pilling bodies, you rolled yourself in the opposite direction, allowing yourself the opportunity to stand as properly as you could with your hands clutching your sore spots.

"I'm sorry." You uttered to the people you dropped and paid them no spare glance as you fled in the first direction you set your sights on.

Unfortunately, a moment of crisis did not exempt you from the fact that the town was new to you. You were in a place that didn't give you the chance to memorize your paths so that meant that you had no idea where it was that you were at.

'How the hell am I going to get to Cielo now?' You asked yourself as your anxiety began to overcome your being.

You made your way to the river you had been admiring, in an attempt to retrace your steps, but it turned futile when you realized that the only way you even found yourself there in the first place was because you had been aimlessly strolling, with the excuse to find food, before you had allowed your ears to guide you.

In your state of perturbation, you ran back into the chaos with the hope that you'd catch a glimpse of his black hair.

Instead, you witnessed many scenes that would soon find themselves seared into your memory - blood seeping from under large chunks of what used to be the outer gate, arms laying astray with no owner in sight, abandoned dolls that were presumably lost by children when fleeing, and pitiful screams played on a loop for ambiance.

You turned every which way, left no walkway unexplored, and gave extra glances behind your back in hope that you'd find each other in the chance that he too had gone in search for you.

You had began to lose your grip on the hope you held within as even more of the terrifying beings entered through the hole in the wall, before you caught sight of the bin you had hurled into in the aftermath of fleeing a crime scene with a child in your arms.

It laid on the ground, the lid missing but you paid no heed as it held no importance in your mind at that moment. What stole your attention was the stray limb that had still donned a potato sack-like shoe.

The same potato-sack like shoe that you had endlessly teased Cielo about, all in good fun of course, with its owner no where to be found. All that was left as a clue was the crimson puddle it laid in, soiling the pale skin and brown cloth.

Your heart dropped and your hands began to shake as dread filled every one of your pores. The Titans trudging around had become mere insects in the back of your mind as your eyes raked your surroundings all for naught as the rest of the boy was yet to be seen.

'No... this has to be some nightmare, or maybe this is someone else's leg. Someone wearing the exact same shoe. Or maybe I'm just seeing things, yeah, crazy things.'

You approached the cause for your torment and dropped to your knees before it, your fingers hesitantly hovered over the pale skin and the pads of your digits became stained in the process. Your vision became distorted for what seemed like the hundredth time that day.

'But he was just here... how could this happen? Why did I leave, to bring back supper? No, that was just a shitty excuse to run away and mourn by myself!'

"I'm so sorry, Ciel! I'm so so sorry! I shouldn't have left you alone! You were just a baby and I left you alone!" You cried, all the while secretly wishing he would simply tap on your shoulder and demand to know why you were bawling hysterically when he had been there all along.

You sobbed and yelled at the top of your lungs because your poor fragile heart could bear it no longer. You dropped your forehead onto the ground, screamed, and punched the dirt and stones with all the fight that your broken soul had left which in turn, splashed blotches of the warm liquid onto your face.

It was all for nothing.

Your cries would not nor could they bring two boys from the dead and breaking the skin of your knuckles surely wouldn't either. All it could do was ward the Titans your way and spell out your demise but at that point, why would you even bother running from it? Sure, you had recently found that you enjoyed the thrill that came from using your legs but the need to dispel your pain outweighed the intoxicating feeling it gave to your lungs. Your fingers scratched at the ground, forcing dirt to collect under your nails.

If your soul was a wilted flower and Stefan's death had plucked it, then Cielo's departure had dug out the roots so that you had no chance for regrowth.

You didn't seize your noise for a second as your hand reached into your pocket. Your fingers felt around until they came upon the object you sought out.

Stefan's blade.

Your sobs simply grew louder and far more painful for your vocal cords as you unsheathed the sharp edges.

No amount of actions could bring your most beloved pair of boys back, but that didn't mean that you couldn't meet them, instead. There was nothing left for you in this world, there existed no relatives that you knew of, no friends or loved ones, you had accomplished your dream of escaping the underground city, and there truly laid nothing but gnawing Titans beyond the walls.

You were alone and missing the security of Stefan's arms, and the intense gleam of Cielo's smile. Never again would you hear their hushed laughter as the three of you mischievously played juvenile jokes on the man that had yelled at you a little too loudly when you had accidentally spilled half of his vegetables.

You fled your home and in turn you had lost your twin flames.

You were alone.

You whispered that to yourself as you stared at your reflection on the silver of the blade one last time.

One last time, before you lifted the razor-sharp end against the skin of your neck. You expelled breaths in heaves and tears dribbled out down the fat of your cheeks, but your eyes held pure animosity as you garnered the power to end your torment. Your hands shook and you could feel the tiny nicks it caused against your skin before it had even yet to pierce entirely.

"I'm so sorry, but I can't do this without you both." You whimpered, and tightly gripped the handle in your hand as you uttered your last words.

But before you could slice your life and your youth, a man's voice, foreign to your ears, whispered softly to you.

"Fight. The only way to win is to fight and the only way to fight is to live. So live."

"I don't want to win or live! I don't need to!" You answered.

"Don't let them take your freedom, don't let their deaths be in vain. Keep moving forward even in the face of death."

You gasped and pictured their faces, how disappointed they would be if their actions equaled to nothing. The blade clattered to the ground and your resolve with it.

"I can't do it, I can't kill myself." You whimpered.

You couldn't even end your inner turmoil, what else couldn't you do?

A sharp whirling whine reached your ears and a pair of arms wrapped themselves around your torso, suddenly you had been lifted into the air. Desperately so, your fingers hastily grabbed at the blade near your knees before you could’ve reached a height where that would have been impossible to do, not yet ready to part with the piercing silver. You turned your head in an attempt to gaze at the owner of the arms securely enwrapping you, and you came face to face with the same blonde man as before. That time, his cheeks weren't as rosy, but the skin around his eyes had been.

"Holy hell, kid. You gotta death wish or something? I could hear you all the way by the river!" He exclaimed as he used his ODM gear to make his way towards the inner wall. "You're the same girl from earlier, right? The one carrying that boy?" He asked but the only sound it evoked from you was another broken sob at the mention of the one you had just lost, causing him to wince at his poor read of the room. "You're fine now, okay? I'm taking you towards Wall Maria where you better get on one of those boats, you hear me?"

His reassurance fell on deaf ears, only entering one and exiting through the next. Your wails hadn't halted yet, and he realized that you weren't even putting up a fight to be put down and neither were you clutching him in fear, you simply laid limp as you clenched your eyes shut. Once he deemed you both near enough to the wall that you'd be safe for a hasty stop, he gently lowered the both of you to the ground and place his hands atop of your shoulder as he knelt before you. Just as you'd done to Cielo, hours before his death.

"Listen kid, I know this is hard. I can't imagine what's going on in that young mind of yours, but dying here? It's not an option for you, because it won't do you or anyone else any good."

"There is no one else, not to me. The only people who meant the world to me are gone, dead. Why shouldn't I be put to rest with them? Cause I hold their memories? What good could I do with those?!" You asked him, tears filled with rage ran down your cheeks. Rage for who? Yourself? You didn't know anymore.

"Never. Don't ever say that. You have so much time left to figure out what to do with those memories. Why waste it wishing you were gone too? They don't deserve to be forgotten, do they? So don't let them be because I'm sure they would've done the same for you."

"How would you know? You've never met one and the other, you've only caught a glimpse of."

"You're right, I don't know. But you do." He stated, his light hazel eyes bore into your own with the determination of a soldier. "I also get the feeling that whatever emotions you felt towards those two, were heavily reciprocated. Hell, probably even tenfold. But, then again, what do I know? I'm just the man that decided, you were worth saving."

Your eyes widened at the reassurance you received; it feathered its fingers over a part of your heart that hadn't ever been touched before.

You were worth saving.

You wiped the tear tracks from your cheeks, which in the end amounted to nothing since fresh batches quickly replaced them. You allowed yourself the privilege to fully breathe at your own pace as you latched yourself onto the comforting man. While you had told yourself that your actions were simply so that he would have it easier at carrying you closer to the wall, you knew that deep down it truly was because of the slight parental guidance he had given you.

You also yearned for a hug, real bad.

So, you allowed him to take you to safety, only stopping before the Wall so that he could return to his job of saving the citizens. To your surprise, the moment he placed you on the ground, he gave you exactly what you had secretly been craving.

A comforting embrace. A hug.

You held him just as tightly and savored what you could because only time would tell how long it would be until you were granted another.

"Chin up, cheeks. If you don't have anything left to fight for, find something and don't you let go. Tunnel vision, alright?" He told you to which you only nodded, for your throat had grown sore from every sob you had elicited that day. He then released you from his arms, and with one last look that had practically yelled at you to get on that boat, he leapt back into the bloodshed.

An angel is what you had deemed him.

And as you stood in the crowd to board the boat that was set to flee inwards, you longed for just a second longer in his arms that had momentarily shielded you from the world and horrific screams that echoed in the back of your mind.

"What are the rest of us supposed to do?!"

"I'm sorry, the ship is at full capacity."

"You can't do this, please! At least let our children on board!"

You didn't realize the soldiers had lifted the wooden board that allowed escapees to walk onto the boat, until frightened complaints had reached your ears.

"I'm sorry, but I can't." The soldier had reasoned, before turning his head and announcing, "Push off!" And the boat creaked as it began to move inch by inch, and with it, your panic rose further.

'No, I finally found the strength to live another day and it's all for nothing?'

Desperate citizens began to hop over the ledge that held them from the river, few succeeded in reaching the edge of the boat while the rest failed miserably, and plummeted into the unknown depths of that same river. Your heart rate had began to accelerate once again.

'I can't let it end yet, I'm worth saving. I might not know what to do with them yet, but Stefan and Cielo's memories and aspirations won't die with me, not today.'

Simply jumping towards the ship wouldn't build up the momentum that your legs needed to reach it, but gaining speed would certainly get the job done. It would be a gamble but a gamble worth dying for.

'I have nothing left to lose, it's either I die just standing here and accepting my doom or I die trying to attain a future. I won't go without a fight.'

You shoved your way through the crowd, and headed towards the back, creating the room you needed. Your vision locked in with a cleared out gap within the horde and you readied your stance, preparing to utilize the legs you were born with. In doing so and throughout the mayhem that surrounded you, you failed to notice the powerful trembles that originated from behind the wall you had just escaped. Seizing your path towards freedom, you began to sprint forward with the agility of a gazelle.

As you did, the robust rumbling that mimicked footsteps advanced in their speed, seemingly in sync with your own. It was only when you had reached the ledge and took your leap that you noticed the cause of those tremors.

A new Titan, though not as tall as the first you had seen, had broken through the inner gate, leaving a massive hole in its wake. While it could not compare to the first in height, it's burly build more than made up for it. That one had plates that acted as armor, scattered on its form and pale silver hair atop of its head. As you descended in the air, there had been a brief moment in which you and the monstrosity wreaking havoc, locked eyes.

Glowing amber threatened to perforate your own, just as its body had done to the barrier enclosing you with the rest of humanity. Their claws threatened to take hold of you and never let go, almost magnetic in the way they whispered your name.

It frightened you.

Before you could further your staring contest, your body slammed onto the wooden ledge of the boat. You groaned as you dangled above the water and squirmed your legs. Gathering your upper body strength, you shifted your core and threw one of your legs to hook onto the ledge.

Your face had still been directed below you, to the river, when you felt one of your pockets grow lighter in weight.

The honey.

The still bottled honey that you adored without so much of a taste, had begun to slip from your sweater pocket.

"No!" You gasped, and quicker than your eyes could keep up with, one of your hands shot out to catch it. Just before it reached a distance that you could not have touched, it landed in the palm of your hand.

Releasing a sigh of relief, you thanked your newfound reflexes for reacting on time, for you could not have handled another loss.

Tossing it into the boat, you forced yourself into a sitting position, only to then slide your self onto the wooden floor.

You had made it.

You snatched your bottle before anyone else could have even thought to take it from you and ignored the astonished glances from the still quivering people. You threw your hood over your head and searched for an open spot amongst the escapees, before settling down near the rim of the boat, honey back in your pocket and legs tucked into your chest.

"It's over, humanity will be devoured by the Titans. We're all dead and standing at the gate of hell." Someone had murmured.

You hadn't entirely disagreed.

'We might as well be dead, but we're not. Where do we go from here is the question we need to ask ourselves. What do I do with myself? And once I figure that out, how do I accomplish it? I have no answers.' You clenched your eyes shut and laid your chin atop of your knees.

The nerves inside of your body had finally seemed to have begun to quell before something slammed itself beside you.

"I'll kill them all!"

Your eyes had bolted open from the startle and you lifted your head in search for the source of the voice.

Right beside you, stood same brunet boy with the teal irises that you had already seen twice before. Only that time, his usually gentle eyes welled with tears and his expression was anything but the childish curiosity he had donned before.

Rage and sorrow bubbled within him and took refuge in his still small body. It had seemed that he too had failed to halt his inner turmoil.

"I'll wipe every last one of them... from the face of this earth!" He stated with the most resolve you had ever seen someone exude. As you gazed at him, you found your attention piqued. His mere determination had been so infectious, even back then.

Just as you felt the need to look away in attempt to retreat back into your own thoughts, E/C met teal for the umpteenth time that day.

Finding himself lost in the abstract pattern etched into your irises, the boy shook himself from his declaration of war. His owlish expression blinked at your doe eyed stare.

No words had been exchanged, though he found his cheeks tint in color at the unforeseen audience he had garnered. You decided to save the stranger further embarrassment and directed your gaze forward, allowing yourself to close your eyes and explore the confines of your own mind.

'In a sense, his spirit is right. It doesn't matter where we go, all that does is that we reach the things we want and make our survival count. And what I want right now, is justice. Starting with those Titans... no. I'll start with those damn MP's. They started this fight. I'll find that son of a bitch that put a bullet through my Stefan's head and make him pay tenfold.'

You had found something to fight for and just as that angel of a man had told you before, you didn't plan on letting it go. You would not let yourself go on as you were then, and you'd be damned if you allowed that devil to continue to walk the face of this earth.

And so, you decided then and there:

you'd wreck the Military Police from the inside out.

Fun fact: Stefan was in love with you… well, as much as a twelve year old could be.

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