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dreamy-jaeger · 1 year

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I Know The End | Ch. 6

Zombie Apocalypse!Au, Older!Grumpy!Eren x Sunshine!Reader

Content: Reluctant traveling companions to lovers, Slight age gap, found family, eventual smut so Minors - DO NOT INTERACT.

Warnings: 18+, violence, mentions of SA, gore, animal abuse, murder, slight smut. (this chapter is really dark you guys, I apologize 😩)

Chapter Summary: The events of the ambush and it’s after effects. Personalities change and relationships shift.

Masterlist

A/N: omg you guys i’m so sorry i took so long to write this, i’ve just been hecka busy, but chapter 6 is here now!! and this one will give you whiplash, i can tell you that for free. i hope you like it!!!! <3

chapter 6

Eren’s P.O.V.

“So, you’re the motherfucker who killed Colt.”

Eren’s eyes shot open. He was met with the sight of bruised knuckles curled around a trigger, visible because of the pale glow of the moon streaming in from the windows. He held his breath, swallowing at the fear that was bubbling up his throat, not even daring a twitch of movement in the case this lunatic was trigger happy.

The view of the man holding him at gunpoint was obstructed by the weapon digging into his forehead, leaving his identity shrouded in mystery. Eren’s mind was running rampant with all the possible ways he could get himself out of this situation, the gears turning furiously.

Though as the last dregs of sleep began to slip away from his form, and reality began to set in with the overworking of his mind, Eren suddenly remembered it wasn’t just him that resided in this church. He wasn’t alone anymore.

Another painful reminder was the sound of bodies struggling, cries of help muffled by the palm of a hand.

Y/N.

Eren’s body jolted, an involuntary response from his desperation to help her. His shoulders raised off of the pew, though he was forced back down as the man pushed his gun harsher into his skin. It was sure to leave a bruise.

The man clicked his tongue three times in disapproval. “Don’t make any sudden movements, Casanova. Unless you want a bullet lodged in your skull.”

A harsh breath of annoyance pushed out of Eren’s nose as he bit his tongue, holding back any of the threats that wanted to slip over it. A muscle twitched in his jaw, his hands slowly raising up in begrudging surrender.

“Sit up.” The man ordered, and Eren could do nothing but comply. His boots met the solid ground of the church, his teal eyes glared daggers at the man who was now visible to him in this new position.

He was surprisingly well-kept for a man living in the apocalypse, his skin free from grime and his sandy undercut hair slicked back neatly. Tipping Eren off that these guys had come from somewhere established, a safe community where this type of look was achievable. Which only meant that there would be even more people waiting on their return. More people to come looking if they never did. He would have to move the girls out of here quickly— if they ever made it out of this mess.

Eren forced himself not to flick his eyes towards the door in the back where he knew Gabby and Ellie resided, most likely completely oblivious to what was ensuing in the main room of the church. If this guy was at all observant, he didn’t want to risk the chance of them being found.

He did however let his eyes fall towards the altar, to where he knew Y/N to be— once another terrified whimper seeped through the fingers of her captor. His blood spiked red hot with anger when he saw thick arms locking her in place against a hardened chest, half her face covered by a large hand, leaving only the sight of her pleading eyes to tug at Eren’s heart. She struggled against the man’s grip, feet kicking restlessly. But the man was too large, too strong, and there was a wicked look in his hazel eyes, like he found amusement in the woman’s distress.

Eren wanted him dead.

“Don’t look at her.” The first man spat, using his gun to force Eren’s chin back towards him. “Look at me.”

Gritting his teeth, Eren met his gaze, the man seemed to be getting the same amount of enjoyment out of this endeavor just as much as his counterpart. He was obviously the type of person who relished in the anarchy, thrived in it. Eren abhorred these types.

“Care to tell me why… despite my attempts to reach out to my contact stationed at this post, I received no response from him?” The man questioned, eyebrows furrowed with feigned confusion.

“And then when I come to check up with him, I find him dead with an arrow right between the eyes?” He then continued, his tone far too nonchalant to be speaking of the death of a comrade.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Eren said simply, his voice controlled.

The man’s lips curled into a smirk, a scoff ringing out into the air a second later. He shared a look with his partner before turning back towards Eren, shifting the gun to his temple.

“You sure about that?” He asked, bringing his face closer to Eren’s, his hot breath fanning over his skin. “Or is that not your crossbow?”

Eren’s eyes followed to where the man gestured with a nod, landing on Y/N’s crossbow that she had left leaned up against the pew that he had happened to choose that night. And it might’ve been odd, but Eren was grateful that the incriminating evidence pointed towards him and no one else. He was the one to blame. Hopefully he would be the sole receiver of whatever revenge they were planning.

“Oh.” Eren let slip from his lips, like the reminder flashed forward in time with the gesture.

“That’s all you have to say?” The man responded, “‘Oh’?”

“Yeah. I remember it now.” Eren answered with ostensible nonchalance, looking back towards him as if it were a casual conversation. “As I recall it, your contact didn’t put up much of a fight. He practically killed himself by getting in my way.”

A sharp sound of protest sounded out from Y/N, most likely trying to allude to the fact that it was her who killed their comrade and not Eren. He refused the urge to spare her a begging glance, to let him take the blame. He was unsure of what they would do if they knew the truth. And luckily (in Eren’s case), neither of the men took it as such, only believing she was still fighting against the forceful grip she was trapped under.

“Will you shut her up?” The man said, paying more attention to the distraction rather than Eren’s confession.

“I’m trying, Porco, but she’s not exactly putting up an easy fight.” The other replied, grunts of exertion protruding from his lips from every movement she made to get away from him. Eren felt a strange surge of pride at this, knowing that she was a fighter, just as he. It brought on a sense of hope that maybe they could get out of this unscathed, protecting the ones they care most about.

That all changed with the words that fell out of the so-called Porco’s mouth.

“I know a way we could get her to be quiet.” Porco replied, turning away from Eren. And though the gun was no longer pointed towards his skull, he was that much more afraid as Porco rounded on the woman in his partner’s arms.

“She is pretty…” He observed, stepping nearer. Y/N flinched away when he brought his knuckles up to her cheekbone, brushing against the skin that shined with frightened tears.

“Don’t fucking touch her.” Eren seethed, standing up from the pew, fists clenched. Though his aggression was quickly put to rest when Porco pointed the gun back at him. The man surged forward, a harsh hand on Eren's shoulder, weapon pressing abrasively— once again— against his forehead. He was brought down on his knees, complying when every part of him was screaming to fight, to draw blood, to kill.

“What was that?” Porco said as he advanced on him, maniacal with his words. “You don’t want me to touch her? That’s rich coming from you, Casanova.”

His grip was rough on Eren’s chin as he forced him to look up into his conniving facial features. Grin wicked as he licked his lips, every movement he made wanting Eren to drive his fist further and further into his skull.

“How about it, huh?” Porco sneered. “I’ll forgive you for killing my guy if you let me take a pass at your girl.”

“If you even lay a finger on her—”

“You’ll what?” He condescended, tilting his head in a way that angered Eren even further, “Have your brains splattered across the floor? I think you’re forgetting who has the upper hand here.”

Eren pushed his forehead against the weapon, trying desperately to prove that he wasn’t afraid. And maybe he wasn’t. His anger was forcing its way through every nerve in his body, enough so that he would stare down the barrel of a gun, knowing that whatever the outcome, she would remain unharmed. As long as she was safe, as well as the others hidden within the confines of the confession booth, he would do anything to take this threat away.

Though this was unapparent to the man who stood above him, who looked around the room as if he had an audience. Obviously taking pleasure in the chaos he was creating.

“You know what?” He said, his cruel smirk painting his features once more. “I don’t need your permission.”

Porco leaned forward, his lips pressed right up against Eren’s ear, correspondingly the gun was held up to his temple on the opposite side.

“I’ll fuck your girl right in front of you.”

There was a white blinding anger that surged through Eren’s core, forging through him with horrifying force. He imagined his teeth sinking into the skin of this man’s throat, ripping the tendons, blood pouring out from every crevice, making him pay for a comment like that, for the threat of his touch on Y/N’s skin. But the fantasy was interrupted by a harsh, agonizing scream.

And there were teeth and blood. But to Eren’s surprise it wasn’t his own.

Ellie had somehow escaped from the hidden confines of the confession booth. Her pointed teeth were digging their way through the forearm that was previously gripped around Y/N’s torso. Growls were escaping their way through the jaw that was locked around his appendage. Blood splattered across the floor.

“What the fuck?” The other man cried, trying to shake free from the grip of this dog that Eren had never felt more grateful towards, the defense that she provided allowing Y/N to slip free from his grasp. She fell forward, hands braced against the floor as she caught her breath. Though just as quickly, she looked back towards her dog, both she and Eren caught sight of the man lifting his arm in a powerful fist, bearing down on the dog that was fighting so valiantly.

“No!” Y/N screeched at the same exact time her dog let out a sharp and plaintive whimper under the strong blow the man ministrated against her. The dog released him, stumbling back— ears held against her head, tail tucked under her legs, wavering from the inflicted wound, looking so much weaker than what Eren had known of the animal. He wondered about the shaking dog Y/N had found in her basement, right on the precipice of the apocalypse.

But he couldn’t let the thought plague him for too long. Instead, under the distraction of it all, Eren brought the force of his elbow into Porco’s temple. The gun in his hand slipping from his grip, falling into Eren’s lap. It all felt so lucky, as Eren’s own hand wrapped around the weapon, fingers finding the trigger in a moment’s notice.

The man with his forearm bleeding freely was now advancing towards Y/N— dog forgotten as she cowered in on herself after that horrifying bludgeon. Y/N was scrambling, trying everything to get away, most likely hoping for a path that would allow her to get to her dog. What she didn’t notice was Eren pointing his newfound weapon at her adversary, and as soon as the man took another step forward, a bullet whizzed through the air, piercing itself between his eyes. Just as the arrow did his compatriot. He fell to his demise just the same.

A frustrated, curdling roar of anger sounded out from beside Eren, and before he knew it he was down on the floor, wrestling with the weight of a maddened man who witnessed the death of yet another one of his comrades. The gun, unfortunately, slipped from his grip within the pandemonium, skidding across the floor.

All Eren could focus on was the man who had somehow gotten the advantage. His thighs were trapping Eren in place, hands gripped into the fabric of his t-shirt.

“I’ll kill you.” The man raged, hands shifting upwards, tightening around the expanse of Eren’s neck. Eren’s legs kicked from underneath the man, trying everything to break free as his vocal chords began to restrict under Porco’s grip, fresh air being lost to his lungs. But his anger was matched with Porco’s, both of them filled with adrenaline from the actions taken against those closest to them. And with the upper hand now in Porco’s favor, Eren was at a disadvantage.

He was gasping, searching for any breath that could provide his lungs with relief. His fingers tugged at the rough hands wrapped around his throat. In each passing second death seeped in all around him from every corner of the earth. His life flashed before his eyes, starting with memories from his childhood, and then the beginning of the end, and the people he met throughout its duration. But all that mattered to him were the last couple of months when he found his humanity in the young girl he took in, as well as the last few days where his life finally felt complete now that he found—

A gunshot rang through the air once more. Porco’s grip loosened around Eren’s throat as he fell down beside him, brains now seeping onto the tiled floor, eyes glassy with death, perhaps a fate that was spoken into existence. Eren gasped in huge lungfuls of cold refreshing air, savoring the life that was almost taken from him. But his still-panicked gaze found purchase on the path the bullet had come from, landing on Gabby standing at the end of it. The gun was held aloft in her shaking hands, barrel steaming from the bullet that just blasted from its confines.

“Holy shit.” The young girl breathed, gun dropping to her side, “I just killed someone.”

“Gabby.” Eren croaked, vocal cords strained from the violence inflicted. He rolled over, propping himself up on shaky hands and knees. Regret brittled his bones, knowing that she had never done that before, wishing she didn’t have to at an age so young. It was a burden he never wanted her to bear. His efforts fallen flat within his missteps.

His movements were in an attempt to get to her, to make sure she was all right and that her humanity wasn’t being lost to her, the same way his own was the first time he drew blood. But once he was up on his knees, he caught sight of Y/N, sitting next to a dark lump on the floor. Eren’s heart lodged itself in his throat and before he knew it, he was up on his feet staggering over to where the woman sat, shoulders trembling with every sob that wracked through her body.

“Is she…” Eren choked out, dropping to his knees beside her, an arm instinctively wrapping around her shaking form. Despite her grievances, Y/N relaxed under his touch.

“She’s alive.” Y/N spoke, her voice small, almost to the point where her words came out as a whimper, though it was filled with an aching relief. Her hands smoothed over the head that now resided in her lap. The dog’s eyes were shut closed against the world around her, her breathing so shallow that Eren could hardly tell if her heart was still beating, he was hoping it was only because of the dark that surrounded them. Y/N continued her reassurances, almost as though she was trying to convince herself, even with the tremor that still plagued her.

“Just shaken up, is all. She’ll be alright… we’ve been through worse… But, Gabby—”

“—’m fine.” Gabby interrupted before any inquiries, she sat down on Y/N’s other side. “I’ll be alright too.”

“Gabby—” Eren started.

“I said I’m fine.” She reiterated, maybe a bit too harshly. Eren had opened his mouth to argue the fact, but then he felt as Gabby’s own arms snaked their way around Y/N’s waist, and the words faded off of his tongue.

All four of them were lost within their desperate need of solace, holding onto one another with shaking hands. Two dead bodies lay behind them, forgotten as they all sat in front of the altar with candles burned down to the wick. The faith that once was held in this building by previous loyal churchgoers now placed entirely on the delicate foundation of this forming bond between them.

Y/N’s P.O.V

8 years ago.

Chaos. That was all there was at the beginning.

It was like the world was distorted by a dark twisted filter of destruction. The sky seemed darker than usual, strange for a summer’s day in early June. There were rows and rows of stagnant cars as everyone tried to force their way out of the city. Soon replaced by horrified mobs that wouldn’t care if they trampled over those who tripped over their feet. All that mattered to the mass majority was to get away by all means from the ripping teeth and bloodied fingernails of the monsters that were now running rampant through the streets. Most of the efforts were in vain.

The bloodshed on that very first day was one of the worst blows humanity had ever taken.

Y/N was one of the few who was oblivious to the start of the apocalypse. A feat that seemed impossible, due to the fall of society that had overtaken their world. But she was on a train, headphones plugged in, her thoughts solely on the excitement of getting to see her family again after a year of being apart.

Though reality soon set in as the train started to slow to a stop, halfway between the two stations. Y/N remembered being annoyed at first, frustrated at the delay in her journey probably due to some technical difficulties, but the frustration was soon replaced by confusion as the passengers were evacuated from the locomotive.

The confusion then turned into fear when Y/N finally witnessed the chaos.

She tried calling her parents, her ear was met with low beeps as the call was disconnected. The lines were down, overrun with all the others trying to contact their loved ones. The people around her were no help, as they scrambled to find a way out of this mess once the conductor announced what was really going on. And as they all began to argue about what should be done— if they should take the train into one of the stations or wait for instruction from government officials— Y/N had decided that she could walk the rest of the way home.

With her luggage left behind, save for the backpack over her shoulder, she slipped away under the guise of all the mayhem.

It took her two days to finally reach the neighborhood where her house resided. The streets she grew up in were eerily quiet, nothing so much as stirring as Y/N made her way down the sidewalk.

Surprisingly, she hadn’t run into much during her journey home, since most of the damage was still convoluted within the bounds of the city. She didn’t run into any other living soul, only stopping to rest for thirty minutes at a time, eating the snacks she had preemptively packed for the journey home that should’ve been much simpler than this.

Every so often the ground would tremble, and in the distance would send echoes of great roaring booms. Perhaps the government had resorted to bombing what was left over… the thought unsettled Y/N in her bones.

She thought of her dog, who trembled at the sound of mere fireworks. Her heart ached. She prayed her family would have stayed home. Waiting for her. They had to know she would’ve done anything to get to them. They wouldn’t leave her behind.

However, her house was just as quiet as the street, proven by the lack of excited claws clacking against the floor, a sound she was used to hearing whenever she walked in through the front door. Her bottom lip began to tremble. But she wouldn’t let herself cry. Not yet.

Instead she moved into her kitchen. A place filled with happy memories of her little family making dinner all together. Her mom would be chopping vegetables, a bright grin on her face from the corny joke her dad just told as he stood over the stove. Ellie would be sitting on the precipice of the room, smart enough to know that Y/N’s dad would be quick to shoo her out if she attempted to step a paw further inside. Also smart enough to know that Y/N would eventually sneak her a piece of chicken when her dad was pretending not to look. All of those happy memories faded into these kitchen walls.

It looked so much emptier now that everyone was gone.

The image of her kitchen began to blur as tears filled the corners of Y/N’s eyes. Her throat was tight as she started to imagine the worst. Coming to terms with the fact that she was the only one left.

She was all alone.

Or was she?

An ominous creak rang out from deeper within the house, capturing the girl's attention. A knife that was left on the drying rack by the sink was now held secure in her hand. She ventured further into her childhood home, only stopping when she reached the closed door of her parents bedroom. There was a faded noise seeping in from under the door.

Y/N’s heart was racing. Her fingers grasped around the doorknob, turning slightly. The door creaked open as she pushed against it.

She was frozen in place.

That was until the sight in front of her had caused such a visceral reaction that bile forced its way up her throat. Unable to stop as she released the contents of her last feeble meal, splattering across the floor.

Y/N had heard briefly of what has been happening these last few days from a comment made by the conductor. That people have been turning into cannibals, eating at the flesh of their fellow man, aggressively and violently. Causing the people they bite to do the same, spreading the disease. And over the past forty-eight hours the girl feared having to run into one of those monsters. She didn’t. Until now.

Sat on the bed in the middle of the room were her parents. But not as she had ever known them.

Her father was hunched over the carcass of what used to be her mother. His teeth gnashing, crimson blood covering the expanse of his chin, as well as his fingers that dug into a gaping hole in her mom’s stomach, unaware of his daughter standing in the doorway. Though that changed when her coughing and hacking had caught his attention. He stared up at her with hungry eyes, slow moving, like he was about to pounce.

“Oh, dad.” Y/N mourned, holding the knife out in front of her, her tears now falling freely, burning hot down the skin of her cheeks. Is he not the man she once knew him to be? Does he not recognize his own daughter? Was she soon to have the same fate as her mother? The woman he married and always claimed to be the love of his life, now a gory mess on their marital bed?

Her father tumbled off of the mattress, his eyes still clouded over and angry. Lost in his irises— the same color as her own— was the warmth she had known throughout the eighteen years of her life. This thing was not her father. He was a monster standing in his place.

“Please…” Y/N whimpered as he started to stagger towards her, knowing that this could only end in one way. “Please, don’t.”

Of course he didn’t understand her, his possessed mind set on its current goal. Hands out reaching for her, a cruel imitation of when he used to do the same to pull her into a loving hug. A sob wracked through her body when she caught sight of a bloodied bandage wrapped around his forearm. Had he been one of the firsts to be bit? Had he not known what he would eventually turn into? Going to sleep besides his wife thinking it was just a freak accident and all would be fine in the morning?

The theories ran rampant in Y/N’s brain as she continued to back up, her father still lumbering towards her, hissing at the sight of her.

“Dad.” Y/N said again, almost like she was begging. Begging for him to stop. Begging him to turn back into the man that she once knew. She couldn’t do this without him. She couldn’t do this alone.

She was forced to stop when her back hit the wood of the door at the end of the hallway. It wasn’t fully shut, so it creaked as it slightly shifted back under the weight of her body. She knew what lay behind her. It was the staircase that led downstairs. She could escape down below, slam the door shut and avoid doing what she knew she had to.

But seeing him like this. Seeing her own dad, a shell of the man he once was, was too hard to bear. And she didn’t want to let this monster live in his place any longer than it already has. It was unfair that this thing had stolen her dad from her, stolen the feet stalking forward, stolen the hands reaching out, stolen the heart that was no longer beating, the eyes that were no longer loving and replaced it all with cold unfeeling death.

So with a newfound energy and rage, the girl raised the knife, plunging it deep into his skull with a strangled cry of exertion.

Her dad— now free from the unrelenting grasp of this monster— sank to the floor, unmoving.

“I’m sorry.” She cried, dropping down beside him, too afraid to touch him, but wanting one last moment with her father. Her salty tears dripped down onto his face, causing streaks to carve through her mother’s blood staining his chin. “I’m so sorry.”

She stayed like that for a few moments more, mourning the death of her parents. Her cries were loud and unrelenting, her hand was clutched to her chest trying hard to even out her breathing that was forging through her in staggered intervals. Her grief wouldn’t let her calm down, keeping her shoulders rigid and her throat raw.

But somehow through it all, she heard a new sound, wavering up from behind her, up the stairs and through the crack in the door. A muffled, warbled whimper, as if her grief was manifesting itself outside of her body. But that wasn’t it… no. She knew exactly what it was. Who it was.

Y/N scrambled to her feet, desperate in her movements, practically tripping down the stairs to where the sound was coming from. She rounded the corner, eyes searching for the dusty storage-space tucked underneath the stairs. A place of solace her dog always ran to when the boom of fireworks or the rumble of thunder became too overwhelming.

She was met with an occupied space. Big brown eyes staring up at her, her entire body shaking with fear, and a tail that slowly started thumping against the floor.

“Ellie.”

More whimpered cries escaped from the dog as she realized who was standing in front of her— a sound she always made when happiness overwhelmed her whenever a family member returned home. Y/N’s own tears gushed harder down her face, only this time with the most overwhelming relief she had ever known.

She dropped to her knees, the movement sparking the dog to stand up on shaky legs and move forward into her owner’s arms.

“I’m here, sweet girl.” Y/N whispered into her fur as the dog continued to cry, her tail now wagging more furiously as her familiar scent washed over her. Ellies nose was dry as she sniffed at Y/N’s cheeks, most likely due to a lack of water. Y/N would have to get some for her, as well as some food. But for now she had her arms wound tight around her dog, shoulders shaking with relief. She wasn’t alone anymore. Ellie wasn’t alone anymore. They had found each other within the chaos.

“I’m here.”

~ present day

“We have to go.”

Eren’s words were sharp with the command, maybe too soon after the fact. There were protests from Gabby, who tried to argue that there was more time needed to recover. Y/N wanted to agree with her— in favor of her poor old dog still trembling in her lap, but she knew that Eren was right. Especially at the mention that more of them could be on their way as soon as they didn’t hear back from the man that seemed to be their leader.

So now they were back to wandering through the forest, before the sun had even begun to rise. The shadows overcast from the trees were shifting and changing in Y/N’s tired mind, looking far too much like more enemies they might have to defend themselves against. She jumped more often than not at any slight movement, still shaken by the events that transpired.

Ellie was tied to her waist by a rarely-used leash, too worried to let her dog wander off like she usually did. Not that she would’ve done so, Ellie was sticking close to Y/N’s side, her movements slow and careful. Though, the reassurance the leash provided was always welcome. She wanted her dog near her, somewhere close, where she would be safe.

It would be a lie if Y/N said she wasn’t worried. Her dog had taken many hits before, some much worse than what happened tonight. But Ellie was getting old, her reaction time much slower than what it once was, now proven with the timid dog that walked in time with her steps. The bounce back of her usual energy was taking much longer than it ever has.

Y/N didn’t dare think of the extremities that could’ve taken place tonight, if her captor had been that much more forceful, or if Porco had been quicker with his gun. She could have lost the one thing that mattered most to her in this world. She still could. It was hard to keep the fear at bay. Death was imminent, there was no getting around it, but with the way Y/N’s worries plagued her mind it was like she enjoyed the torture of fearing the inevitable. Her overactive imagination was far too strong for her own good.

The only thing that anchored her to reality was the man who walked a few paces in front of her now.

Eren was strong with the way he moved through the shadowed forest, deliberate with his actions just as he was earlier that night. It seemed as though he wasn’t affected at all by what had happened, his strength resounding in the very way he kept them all moving. At the moment, Y/N was grateful for his resilience, it was like a spark of hope lighting itself against the aggressive darkness of dread.

It was the very lifeboat Y/N needed to pull herself from her own harrowed worries. She kept her eyes on the shoulders that were often brushed by the low hanging branches surrounding them. The sight of him keeping her present, keeping her moving.

Gabby, on the other hand, was far in the distance behind them, her feet dragging through the foliage that lay beneath their feet. Her demeanor was soft and quiet, unlike anything Y/N had known of her from before. Every so often Eren would turn, his teal gaze catching on to Y/N before shifting towards the young girl behind her. His brow would soon furrow every time he realized she hadn’t moved any closer.

With the time Y/N had now gotten to know the man, she knew that look well. He was worried— just as she was. Though this time it was more so than ever before. Perhaps he was worried for Gabby the same way Y/N was worried for Ellie. The events of the night caused far too much damage beyond the physical realm. The woman was unsure of what that damage could be for the young teenager, but it burdened her nonetheless. Since she now seemed to care about her as much as any other friend she’s had in her life.

So as the sun began to rise, and the day went on, there were many times when Y/N tried to engage the girl in conversation, ranging between casual topics to more in depth questions about what she was feeling at that moment. But every single time, her attempts were brushed off by a shrug and a brief comment of dismissal. A nut too tough to crack.

“Does she seem off to you?” Eren once asked, as they took a break by a small river, a babbling brook carving its way through the forest floor. Serene in its very nature and a sight that would usually excite the young girl. Though now she only sat silently on a large rock stationed near the bank, knees curled in on herself as she took in the scene.

Y/N pursed her lips at Eren’s question, unsure how to answer it without worrying him further.

“I don’t know, she’s quieter than usual.” Y/N replied, careful with her words. “We didn’t get much sleep… maybe she’s tired.”

“Yeah.” Eren responded, though he sounded unsure. “Maybe.”

The conversation was put to rest as soon as they continued on with their journey. The remainder of it was surrounded in silence as no one dared to speak. They passed through endless miles of forest green, their footfalls ringing out into the nature beyond. There was not a soul in sight beyond those within their group. There weren’t even any buildings from what they saw last of the church that faded into the distance behind them. The road was far gone as they ventured deeper and deeper into the trees.

When the sun was low in the sky, casting golden light over their heads, being quite obvious there was no promise of a shelter with four walls and a roof, Eren had finally conceded their journey.

“We need to stop for the night.” He had said, now standing in front of a naturally formed alcove, established in the side of a hill.

The rest of them gratefully accepted his notion, their tired feet now overworked from a day of walking. Gabby immediately threw off the backpack that was digging into her shoulders, it falling onto the forest floor with a resounding thump.

“Finally.” She relented, flopping down besides her belongings, seeming a bit more like herself. Y/N smiled softly at the display, her worry slowly beginning to ease its way out of her system.

“We can set up a fire here.” Eren continued as the action-man he always was.

“You think it’s safe?” Y/N inquired, unhooking Ellie from her leash, allowing her to sniff around the premises they deemed worthy for their camp.

“We covered a lot of ground.” He nodded, already clearing a space for a firepit. “And if we’re sleeping outside we’re gonna need the warmth.”

There were no arguments after that. Within the hour, as the light of the sun faded over the horizon it was replaced by the bright orange of a flickering fire, sparks popping up into the cool night air. The respective facial features of each person surrounding the heat was underlit by the dancing flames, each one of them stoic in their silence as they ate at the meal prepared by Eren— who had returned to the camp after searching for firewood, with a rabbit bouncing on his hip.

It was the first hot meal any of them had in days, a welcome comfort after the distress they faced. And it definitely raised Ellie’s spirits as she sat by Y/N’s side, staring eagerly as the woman picked small pieces of meat off the bone, drool slobbering from her lips. She grinned at the sight of her silly dog with her wagging tail. Never able to refuse her, Y/N gave her a bite between each one of her own.

When she had gifted her dog the last bite of their shared meal, Y/N rubbed her greasy fingertips across her jeans, her gaze shifting. And then she stilled. Her eyes landed on the man who sat across the fire, she was met with the blinding teal of his irises. He was already staring at her. And he didn’t even feel the need to be ashamed he had gotten caught. Instead, his expression was thoughtful as he considered her, slowly chewing his food. His strong features were accentuated by the fire below his feet, a reminder of how handsome he was, sending a jolt through Y/N’s spine.

She felt herself flush and quickly averted her gaze, eyes now landing on Gabby— who at that moment decided to push herself up to stand, thankfully stealing away Eren’s intimidating stare.

“I’m gonna hit the hay.” She said, clapping her hands free from any dirt.

“Take the sleeping bag.” Eren responded with no hesitation.

“Don’t need it.”

“Like hell you don’t.” He retorted, before pulling said sleeping bag out of his bag and tossing it her way. The girl plucked it out of the air with ease, but still rolled her eyes in the process.

“Fine.” She grumbled and then turned to go, probably hoping to make some distance between her and the firelight. But as the girl continued to walk away, Y/N realized she wasn’t stopping just beyond the orange halo of light the fire provided. She was moving deeper into the woods.

“Where are you going?” Eren was quick to react, standing on his feet. Gabby stopped at his words, turning to face him.

“I’m gonna sleep over here.” Gabby answered, jutting her thumb over her shoulder. Eren’s eyebrows furrowed.

“Why?”

“It’s called privacy, old man, ever heard of it?” She chided. Y/N noticed how a muscle twitched in Eren’s jaw. He took a step forward, perhaps about to drag the young girl back over to them by force. Y/N opened her own mouth before he could.

“Hey, Gabby?” She inquired, standing on her feet as well.

“Yeah?”

“Do you mind taking Ellie again?” Y/N asked, her tone soft with the question in contrast to Eren’s sharp frustration. “I think she prefers sleeping with you.”

A small smile flickered up on Gabby’s lips, she nodded simply and waited as Y/N prodded Ellie to follow after the girl, which of course she did happily. From the corner of her eye she saw Eren's shoulders visibility relax, but only slightly.

A deep sigh escaped his lips as he sat back down on the log he had dragged over near the fire earlier that evening, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. Y/N fidgeted where she stood, unsure of what to do with herself now that it was just the two of them.

“I’m sure she’s alright.” Y/N offered, bending down over her own backpack to tug out a small blanket she had buried deep in its confines. Something to do with her hands.

“She’s not acting like herself.” Eren countered, his hand dropping down to his lap, revealing his worried features.

Y/N shrugged, not having much to say on the matter since she’s only known the girl for a short amount of time. She did notice the difference with her most recent demeanor, but Y/N was once a teenage girl too, and she knew how much of a rollercoaster that was in and of itself.

“Maybe she really does want privacy.” She mused, as she spread her blanket out across the forest floor, close to the warmth of the fire.

“She hates sleeping alone.” Eren blurted, “Ever since I found her. If I wasn’t near her when she woke up, she’d…”

Eren shook his head, his words fading off his tongue. Perhaps in respect to Gabby’s newfound want of privacy, not wanting to reveal the moments when she’s weak. But Y/N didn’t take offense to that. She understood. As well as the fact that the picture was already painted.

“It’s just… weird for her to want to be alone. Especially after last night,”

“Well, she’s not alone, is she?” Y/N reminded him with a soft smile. He met her gaze, his own lips twitching up slightly with the reassurance.

“Yeah, you’re right.” He breathed, “Thanks… for that.”

Y/N shrugged off his gratitude, shaking her head, “Nah, don’t worry about it. It was the truth anyways, I think Ellie likes her more than me.”

Eren let out a low chuckle at that, causing Y/N’s stomach to dip. Her bottom lip tucked between her teeth to hold back a brighter grin. She hid her face by focusing on straightening out her blanket, even though she didn’t really need to.

“Are you going to sleep?” Eren asked, his attention being caught by her redundant movements.

“Um… Yeah.” Y/N said, her tone going up a pitch with hesitation. She had made the decision in the pause between her words. She wasn’t exactly planning on going to bed, but she supposed that’s exactly where she was headed with her current actions. “Are you?”

“I’ll probably stay up.” Eren told her. “Take watch.”

“Okay.” Y/N nodded, and then she paused again, looking around.

“Don’t you have a sleeping bag too?” She questioned.

“Oh, uh, no.” Eren replied, looking down at his feet. “That was our only one.”

“Won’t you be cold?”

“I’ll be fine.” He reassured her. Y/N narrowed her eyes at the man, unconvinced, but with the soft smile he offered her she found herself letting it slide. So instead of arguing, she slipped underneath her blanket— unconventional for sleeping besides a campfire, but better than nothing. And once she was settled, back turned away from the fire (as well as Eren’s burning gaze), her exhaustion finally registered in her brain. It was almost a surprise how quickly sleep took over her form.

Though she slipped out of it just as quick a few hours later at the aggressive sound of chattering teeth. She woke up with a furrowed brow as the sound had snuck into her dream in a confusing fashion. Rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, she raised herself on one palm, looking around the now darkened camp. The fire was almost completely out, only a few glowing embers sat among the ash. As her eyes adjusted to the dark, she took in the sight of Eren’s shadowed form, laid out in front of the log he once sat at. His shoulders were shaking, curled in on himself for any sense of warmth.

“Eren?” Y/N croaked. He jumped at the sound of her voice.

“Shit—” He sat up quickly from his position on the floor. “I’m sorry, I fell asleep.”

Y/N shook her head, to forego his apology, though she quickly realized how dark it was, and felt foolish since he probably couldn’t even see the gesture.

“That’s alright.” She then whispered, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, ‘m fine.” Eren replied.

“Are you sure you’re not cold?” She questioned again.

“Not at all.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. Another thing he couldn’t see, but maybe he could feel the force of her frustration as he spoke again.

“I’m alright.” He reiterated. Y/N let out a huff of annoyance. And then Eren’s teeth started chattering again. This was ridiculous.

“Eren, I’m not deaf, you know?” She argued. “I’m cold just listening to you. Take my blanket.”

“Then you’ll be cold.” Eren countered through the dark.

“I’ll be fine. I’ll take next watch.” She told him.

“But you were still sleeping.” Apparently he wouldn’t let this go. And Y/N’s patience was wearing thin.

“Fine.” She stated, her tone decisive just as her next choice. “Then come here.”

“What?”

“Come here.” She repeated, her frustration now very apparent.

“Why?”

“The way I see it, we can either keep arguing who gets to take the blanket or we can just skip ahead to the obvious solution.” She answered, sitting up all the way, her eyes finding purchase on his shadow in the dark.

“And the solution is…?”

“We’ll share.”

Eren didn’t respond after that. In fact it even sounded like he wasn’t breathing at all. He went so still that Y/N almost thought he had fallen back asleep. Or maybe even left her alone by the dying fire. She opened her mouth to say something more, but was cut off when Eren finally spoke.

“Are you sure you want to?” He asked, his voice barely above a murmur.

“Neither one of us wants the other to be cold.” She said, her frustration taking a back seat as she matched his tone. “It’s the only way.”

He paused again. But this time Y/N was certain he was there.

“Okay.”

Through the shadows of the night she heard shuffling as Eren stood from his spot. The sounds of his slow footsteps signaling his arrival to her side of the camp. When he finally reached her he had stopped— standing above her, hesitating for what was to come next.

Y/N stared up at him, his teal eyes somehow shining through the dark. Her stomach dipped once again once she realized how close he would be within a few seconds. Maybe that’s why he took a pause, maybe he realized the same thing. Y/N wondered if she should be nervous. Though she definitely was, as her hands trembled in her grip around the blanket. Even so, she held his gaze as she peeled back the fabric. A silent invitation.

A deep breath was released from the man in front of her, perhaps preparing himself. Though the pause was much shorter now as he soon accepted it.

They were silent as he placed himself beside her, fingers brushing when he went to grab his corner of the blanket from her. A soft gasp escaped her throat when they did. Y/N prayed Eren didn’t hear it.

Though that would almost be impossible considering how close they were. Y/N’s blanket was small— small enough to fit in her backpack comfortably with the rest of her items— so for it to be able to cover the both of them fully, their shoulders had to be pressed together, their backs against the forest floor. They both lay rigid, and uncomfortable. Afraid to move. Afraid to breathe.

They laid like that for a while.

“I’m worried about Gabby.” Eren whispered into the air, surprising Y/N once he broke the silence. His tribulations from before still haunting him to the point where he must’ve needed to say something out loud. Maybe their proximity made him feel safe to do so.

“How so?” Y/N encouraged, knowing that he’ll eventually reveal what was really going on, hopefully providing clarity on his own theories on why Gabby was acting so differently.

“She’s never killed anyone before… a person, I mean. ”

Oh. Y/N’s heart sank. What a strange joke made by the universe. Just the night before they were confiding with one another about the burden left behind by the cruel acts this new world forced your hand to make. And now Gabby was faced with the same moral dilemma. Even if the man deserved it, having to kill someone with your own two hands takes a toll. The first one being the worst of them all.

“I never wanted her to have to do that.” Eren continued, his words said with a slight strain in his voice. Y/N didn’t dare look over, in case he was displaying emotions that didn’t want to be shared. She kept her head faced towards the sky above, stars blinking down from between the branches of the high standing trees.

“I knew it was inevitable.” He added, and then he released another harrowed breath. “But she’s just a kid. I wanted to hold it off as long as possible… but now that it’s happened, I’m scared— no, terrified that…”

“That it will change her.” Y/N finished for him.

“Yeah.” He responded, even though she didn’t phrase it as a question. The word hung in the air above them, neither of them really knowing what to say.

“Well it is going to change her.” Y/N then said, ripping off the bandaid. “It already has.”

“I know.” Eren conceded, “But she shouldn’t have to know what it’s like. And now that she does… I’m even more terrified that she’s gonna end up like me.”

Y/N let herself look at Eren at that. His features were lost to the darkness, but she could see the silhouette of his nose. He was still looking away. Though his head slightly twitched towards her as she shifted under the blanket, changing her position so that she lay on her side, arms curled into her chest.

“Is that such a bad thing?” She whispered.

“If you knew who I was before… What I did before… maybe it is.” He replied.

“Before what?” Y/N questioned.

“Before Gabby.” He murmured. “...Before you.”

He turned his head to look at her, their gaze finally meeting once more. Y/N saw the worry that had been flickering over his irises all day, now at full force as he admitted his fears and his regrets. Y/N sucked in a breath, her own eyebrows tugging up with concern at what his self image was. She felt a desperate need to change that for him.

“As far as I can tell, if this is the person you are after meeting Gabby… if she was the one who pulled you out of whatever you used to be, I think she’ll be just fine. If you’re there to do the same.”

Eren’s eyes softened at her words. The tension slowly seeped out of his shoulders.

“She’ll need you there too.” Eren breathed, he shifted his body into the same position Y/N was in, they now faced each other head on, nowhere to hide as they held onto each other's gaze.

“You think so?” She murmured, a small spark of warmth glowing behind her sternum at the inclusion. It felt silly to be somewhat excited about the prospect, but it made her realize just how badly she needed the reassurance.

“I know so.” He assured her.

“And what makes you so confident?” She replied, lips tilting up in a half smile, her teasing coming out at the most inopportune moments. But Eren paid it no mind. Instead he simply answered her.

“Because I needed you.”

Y/N’s breath hitched in her throat. Her smile sliding off of her face in quick succession. His honesty sent a jolt of surprise to run through her nerves. Her eyes searching his face for any sign of the joke he must obviously be playing on her.

“At the church, you asked me if that was the case.” He continued, since Y/N’s words were lost to her. “And I just thought you should know that I do. I need you.”

“I need you too.” Y/N whispered, the confession falling so easily off of her lips. Almost like she was just falling into the motions of this conversation.

But of course the words were true. They couldn’t have been anything else. It was proven in the short amount of time they had known each other that they already needed one another to survive in a world like this. But perhaps there was something hidden. A deeper meaning that was not yet discovered. Or rather, not yet revealed. It was too soon to do so now. So perhaps they can hang on to the surface level, and find satisfaction within the shallow end.

Eren sucked in a breath at her reciprocating words. Almost like they were a surprise to him. But his softened features twisted harshly once again as remorse seemed to take over.

“I’m so sorry.” Eren had then said, closing his eyes and shaking his head against the earth beneath them, confusing Y/N in the process.

“For what?”

“For letting them hurt Ellie, letting them get to you.” He whispered, teal eyes revealing themselves, filled with shining regret. “And then when he… when he threatened to—”

“Eren.” Y/N said, her tone now pleading, knowing where he was going with this. She was desperate to stop the oncoming spiral he was headed towards.

“He was going to…” He swallowed around the words, unable to say them out loud.

“But he didn’t.” Y/N asserted, placing a hand onto Eren’s freezing cheek. His own large hand moved to cover it, like it was instinctual for him to do so.

“You must’ve been so scared.” He strained, fingers wrapping tighter around hers.

“I wasn’t scared.” Y/N shook her head, confidence dripping from every word. “Do you know why?”

“Why?”

“Because you were there.” She whispered as she shifted their hands so that they were now clasped in the small space between their bodies, wanting to make sure that he saw the truth within her irises. “I knew I’d be okay— that we’d all survive, because you wouldn’t have it any other way. There was no room for fear knowing that.”

Eren’s eyes flicked over each feature on Y/N’s face, as if he were looking for any hidden lies. When there were none to be discovered, a shaking breath of relief escaped from between his lips. He nodded in agreement.

“That’s what I felt too.” He revealed. “Having you there with me.”

“We make a pretty good team, huh?.” She smiled softly at him, causing a soft chuckle to push through his nose. The sound of content being the greatest thing she’s ever heard.

“I suppose we do.” He inevitably agreed.

And that was the last thing said before they let their conversation slowly fade into the night, being replaced by the soothing caress of sleep. The sound of their even breaths moving in time, their hands still intertwined between them.

Eren’s P.O.V.

Eren awoke to the sound of birdsong, and gentle blue sunlight that only shows itself in the early hours of the morning. His eyes were left without the usual bitter sting that came with a restless night of sleep. In fact, he had felt more rested than he had in years. Perhaps the difference was the woman that now resided in his arms, a position that must have formed itself sometime during the night.

The faded scent of mint overwhelmed his senses with his nose pressed into her hair. His rough calloused fingers had somehow slipped under the fabric of her shirt, firm against the burning skin of her hip, her back was held tightly against his chest from their proximity.

His heart stuttered, having her this close to him. Though he felt uncertain of how he was supposed to react to it all. Was he allowed to relish in the press of her body against his own? Was this something she wanted or perhaps it was all unconscious actions done under the influence of sleep and a need for warmth.

Of course that was when the woman shifted in his arms, though only doing so to sink deeper into the solid form of his body. Unfortunately, the action brought forth a shocking discovery when the curve of her ass brushed lightly across his crotch.

A low hiss escaped his lips when that in turn brought notice to the natural phenomenon that occurred behind his zipper whenever the sun would rise. Eren’s touch became softer and more unsure as he held his breath, willing all of the strength inside his body to hold himself still, not wanting to give her a rude awakening. But Y/N only relaxed further into his chest, the entirety of her now pressing solidly against the whole of him. He prayed to the universe that she was still asleep and unaware of what was happening behind her.

Eren shut his eyes, focusing on the pattern of his breathing.

They shot open when Y/N shifted her hips once more, ever so slightly but somehow more intended. Was she awake? Did she know what she was doing?

He found out the answer to that when she did it again, this time very much purposefully as the roll of her hips pulled a groan from deep within Eren’s throat. His own hips pressing back into her of their own volition. A soft sigh escaped the girls lips at the accidental reciprocation, her sound of satisfaction causing his cock to twitch in his pants.

“W-what are you doing?” He murmured into her hair, his hands shaking as they searched for an appropriate place to rest. His brain fuzzy as Y/N found a consistent pattern, his breathing growing heavy in her ear.

“Nothing.” She whispered softly, almost convincingly innocent. The next harsh grind of her ass caused Eren's hand to shoot out and grip at her waist.

“This isn’t why— shit—,” Eren strained, trying to convey that she didn’t have to do this for him, the words fumbling over his tongue. “I don’t want you to think that I—”

“—Shh. ’m not thinking anything.” She cooed, snaking a hand up to rest on the back of Eren’s neck, bringing him closer. A spark of electricity shot down his spine at the touch of her fingertips against his skin. “Just feels good.”

“Y-yeah.” Eren agreed breathlessly, dipping his nose down into the crook of her neck. “It does.”

Her reassurance brought a sense of confidence to the man, his grip growing harsher against her waist as he began to rut into her more deliberately. A sweet moan protruded from Y/N’s lips, the sound of it resounding in another twitch of Eren’s cock.

Heat began to surge all around them in a great contrast to the cool morning air. Unreleased tension threatened to burst as they continued to work themselves up. Y/N’s ass was now pushing back into him with a gentle rhythm, Eren pressing himself into her harder with each one of her back-thrusts.

Harsh desperate breaths wavered out from their throats, punctuated every so often by Eren’s low grunts and Y/N’s tiny whines.

Every part of Eren was on fire, a sheen of sweat layering itself onto his skin as he continued to hump into her, chasing a high that was dangerously close, far too soon.

Not that the woman in front of him was doing any better. She was arching into every firm grind of his hips, her mouth hanging open in a silent moan, shivering under the fingertips that Eren was now dragging over her skin, deeper into the fabric of her shirt. A sharp gasp left her lips when they brushed the fabric of her bra, catching on the hardened nipple underneath.

“Does that feel good?” Eren smiled into her hair, earning another sweet moan from the pride in his voice.

“Mhm.” She whined, nodding her head, her movements becoming quicker in her excitement.

“Feel’s good for me too, sweetheart.” He groaned, the nickname falling freely from his lips through the dizzying cloud of pleasure. “Gonna make me cum.”

“Please.” Y/N begged, grabbing the hand that was on her waist and holding it there, a silent concession to take what he needed from her.

A deep shudder rolled through Eren’s shoulders at the anticipation. More grunts tumbling from his lips with every thrust. He was pushing himself harder into her than ever before. He was close, so close—

“Ellie!”

The sound of Gabby’s voice had the two adults scrambling apart. Their secluded bubble of lust now burst and raining down on them with heavy disappointment and unyielding embarrassment. Abrasive in his actions, Eren stood quickly from his spot, turning away from the scene of the crime. Only for his eyes to land on Ellie, who sat at the precipice of the clearing, her tongue lolling out of her mouth, tail thumping wildly against the foliage.

The stupid, fucking dog.

“Don’t run off like that!” Gabby was soon to appear behind her, sleeping bag tucked under her arm.

Before Gabby caught sight of them and any shame that might still be lingering in the air, Eren quickly turned to the nonexistent last glowing embers of the fire, pretending to stomp them out like that was his plan all along. He heard the zipper of Y/N’s backpack behind him, surely busying herself with a different menial task to feign innocence.

“Morning.” The teenager called out as she closed the distance left between them. The two of them returned her greeting with some of their own, awkward in the way they spoke. But the young girl didn’t seem to notice, only moving to pack up the sleeping bag, completely unaware of their fragile facade.

Eren scratched at the back of his neck, the burn of Y/N’s touch ever present.

What the hell just happened?

~~~

A/N: Honestly this chapter is all over the place but I hope you like it!! hehe! let’s see where there relationship goes from here, shall we?? muahaha ILYSM thank you for reading! <3<3

Taglist: @large-juice @dududubebo @jaegersdiary @tojis-discord-kitten @amityblu @givemeasec @conniesbbymama @prblmtic @comfypigeon @intimacywithceline @erensnumbaonegirl @aangsupremacy @oneofthesevensins @theyloveniqueeeee

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#eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren x reader smut #eren yeager x reader smut #eren jaeger x reader smut #eren smut #eren jaeger smut #eren yeager smut #aot x reader #snk x reader #attack on titan x reader #shingeki no kyoujin x reader

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rhiawriter · 28 days

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The Dragon's Cloak Ch. 4

Lyanna heard the sound of loud, drunken singing. It was late, but the castle grounds were not empty. Likely, it was a group of young nobles, leaving the grounds to sample the delights of the brothels of King’s Landing. Lyanna drew her hood in tighter around her face and made herself appear smaller. She kept her head to the ground, determined to reach the stables without her little rebellion gaining attention. The stables were in her sights, when she heard a sound that made her grimace.

“That’s right, tree-worshipper.” The shout was followed by a loud smack. “You’ll take what we give you.”

“What your tree-love isn’t protecting you?” Another voice shouted. “This stick hurts you just the same as the rest of us?”

Lyanna followed the sound of the voices until she found three young squires illuminated by torchlight with Lannister lions embroidered into their jackets, circling a slight man with dark hair and a leather vest. One of the squires held a stick in his hand, which he had clearly been using on the small man who was bruised and bleeding. She didn’t recognize him, but from his dark looks and their hateful taunts, she knew he must be northerner. A northerner who was being attacked by westerners for the simple reason that Lyanna Stark was marrying Rhaeger. A deadly combination of rage and guilt overtook her and all thoughts of her secret little rebellion that no one was to know about fled.

“Hey!” She shouted, marching over to them. “Get away from him!”

She came up behind one of the squires as he raised his stick for a blow. Moving on instinct and her years of training in the practice yards with her brothers, she kicked the man in the back of the knee. The man was stronger than her, and she had no doubt that he would win in a fair fight, but she had the element of surprise working in her favor. The man crumbled, and in his pain released the stick, which she took in her own hand.

“Who are you?” The squire grabbed his knee, wincing as he scrambled to his feet.

Lyanna moved into the center of the circle, her knees bent in a fighting stance, while she held the stick in her hand.

“Just another tree-worshiper,” she said, raising the stick over her head and landing a loud and satisfying whack on the squire’s shoulder. For a moment, she felt enormously pleased with herself until she realized the true vulnerability of her position. The three squires circled her. They were young. The oldest seemed to be about Lyanna’s age. They didn’t yet have the muscular grace of true warriors. They were still rather scrawny and awkward in their movements, like young colts. But they were all bigger than she was, and undoubtedly stronger. The man beside her was in no position to fight. What was she thinking? She was out alone in the dark with no one to protect her.

Read the full chapter on Ao3.

#the dragon's cloak #lyanna stark #rhaegar targaryen #howland reed #asoiaf fic #rhaegar x lyanna

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sailorspica · 6 days

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i deeply love the MPs' reversal from corrupt and useless in 850 to the only branch of the military doing anything for public safety during the rumbling (in which i include nile and hitch indirectly helping assemble the alliance by reuniting falco and annie with colt+gabi and armin+connie)

the MPs and garrison are generally drawn older throughout, probably to emphasize the SC's mortality rate, but seeing hitch's colleague in ch 125 and Then shadis talking to the cadets drives home my reading of early jaegerism as a youth movement contained to the survey corps and cadet classes from the 104th and younger + makes me wonder where soldiers shadis' age who aren't closely tied to the junta's leadership find themselves in 854

btw, shadis' advice is so fucking twee, i doubt these kids know who they are yet but ok mr schue

the 139 panel with hitch, her colleague from 125, and rico is so maddeningly uninformative but obviously fodder for my fanfic, so

#♃#snkcap #snk 125 #snk 139 #aottxt #the way i carry on about shadis you would think he is blorbo #♆#mangacap #☽ this house #☿writing

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miss-madness67 · 5 months

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The Colts (Ch.2 Dean Winchester)

In a reverse-world, Dean Winchester is a normal teenager who goes to high school, dates girls, and enjoys annoying his little brother. What happens when she rolls into town, hunting vampires and asking questions about her father's death? Can he help her uncover the truth? Was he always destined to become a hunter?

“Who said you were coming?” I challenge.

“Oh, come on,” Dean whines, “you introduce me to the supernatural, and you expect me to not help you when there’s a killing monster out there?”

“Yes? Most people want nothing to do with this. Just pretend it didn’t happen and don’t say anything.” The last thing I need is for rumors to spread about my family being anything other than normal.

“Then I guess I’m not like most.” Dean looks at me expectantly, he clearly wishes for me to let him tag along. The rational part of me knows it’s a bad idea to let a civilian into this mess. The lonely hunter part of me thinks it could be nice to have company for once, one that it’s not my mother giving me orders to stay back.

“Fine, but you have to listen to every word I say.” I have never seen anyone happier about the prospect of killing vampires in my life.

Read the chapter now on AO3, Wattpad, or Patreon.

#fanfiction #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #spn #dean winchester #spn fanfic #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean x reader #dean winchester x y/n #teen dean winchester

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writingformyblorbos · 2 years

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It's cloudy above (Part 4)

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Jake Lockley/Steven Grant/Marc Spector × gn!Reader (hints of Layla × Reader in the future?) Summary: Harrow is alive, which means Ammit is as well. You have to find him before it's too late. Warnings: Things are going to get a bit angsty. Canon typical violence (guns, stabbing, wounds, murder in general), mentions of DID and anxiety. A somewhat grafic wound description. Not proof read (I don't know if I don't get my things proofread because I'm too lazy to ask or because I'm afraid of being judged by others. Guess we'll never know) Word cound: 4.3k (don't ask me how I did it, idk either) a/n: I want to thank Jennifer Saunders for making the I need a hero cover for Shrek 2, otherwise I would’ve had no idea on how to vizualize the action scene, which would’ve led me to give up on ica altogether. Also it’s probably going to be bad, but I beg you to please cut me some slack, it’s my first time writing a fight scene. Anywho, please enjoy!!!

If you had asked yourself a few days ago what you would be doing Wednesday evening, your best guess would’ve been watching a movie, reading a book, perhaps going out for some drinks with Colt if you were feeling a little bold. However, getting ready to infiltrate a cult to try and get some information on its leader’s whereabouts who posed a worldwide threat was definitely not something you planned on adding to your schedule.

You’d had your fake story revised by Layla, Steven, and Marc: your name was Sunny, and you had just been kicked out of your flat because you couldn’t afford rent anymore. You were one of the many people lost in the Snap, and once you’d returned, your life had been turned upside down. Your job? Terminated. Your parents? Dead. With no support system, you were an ideal target for a cult. You only hoped the fanatics would find it convincing enough.

Marc and Steven had stayed back at their flat, most likely coming to terms with the fact that there was another alter within their system, Jake. While they were doing that, Layla was driving you to your home to change into different clothes.

“I had a feeling,” Layla revealed to you as the doors of the elevator closed, “About Jake’s existence.”

You pressed the button to take you to the ground floor, “How so?”

“In Cairo, Harrow’s men were shooting at me, and he was about to kill Marc. But then, something changed in him. It’s like… he wasn’t holding back anymore.” The elevator dinged and its doors opened. “He took down everyone, including Harrow. After things died down, he said he’d blacked out,” Layla stepped out of the elevator alongside you. You opened the door for the both of you and exited the complex. “I only hope the three of them figure things out.” You nodded in response.

Layla walked to a motorbike parked next to the building. She grabbed one of the black helmets and handed it to you, “Put this on, you’re gonna need it.”

The air was hitting your face as you drove through the streets, gripping Layla’s shoulders for dear life.

“How did you meet Steven, anyways?” she looked at you through the rear-view mirror.

You proceeded to explain the whole Tesco situation, how that led you to get Steven’s number and going out on a date with him.

“A date?”

“It was going well, actually. Best date I’d had in a while. That was, of course, until he got stabbed.”

She laughed, “I wouldn’t want my date to be stabbed, either.”

Her motorbike came to a halt as you got to a red light. Layla quickly glanced back at you, “You’re gonna fall off if you keep holding onto my shoulders, you know.”

You knew hugging her from behind would be more efficient, but you didn’t want to be inappropriate. “Wait, can I…?”

It was obvious what you were proposing, and Layla nodded, “Yeah, don’t worry about it.” You carefully slid your arms around Layla’s abdomen, feeling the warmth emanating from her body. “I’m happy for Steven,” she looked at you once again through the mirror, “You’re quite the catch.” You felt blood rushing to your cheeks in light of her comment. The traffic light turned green, and you were both once again on the move.

Once you arrived, you led Layla into your small flat. Signs of the hurried escape you made yesterday were evident, your suitcases still laid out on the couch.

“Sorry for the mess,” you apologized to Layla, “Last time I was here, I was in a bit of a hurry.” She shook her head and insisted you not to worry. You frantically started clearing the couch for her to have somewhere to sit, “Would you like some water, tea?” you asked, not wanting to be impolite in front of your guest.

“(y/n), I appreciate it, but we have to be quick.” That stopped you dead on your tracks. Right, you weren’t there to clean up. Her words stung, but you knew she wasn’t coming from a place of malice. You apologized and hurried back to your room.

You opened your closet and got to work. After a while, you managed to combine some old clothes you hadn’t worn in years along with dirty clothes in order to make an outfit that would fit ‘Sunny’. You exited your room and saw Layla examining the shelf behind the armchair, fixated on a particular picture frame you knew all too well. She noticed you out of the corner of her eye and jumped, excusing herself for prying. “It’s ok! I’m sorry for startling you,” you told her, trying to soothe her worries.

You looked at the picture as well. It was a family photo, a much younger version of your parents holding your baby self. You remembered the many lonely nights you’d clutched the frame tightly to your chest, crying your eyes out, hoping that maybe your parents would someday return.

“I lost them to the Snap,” you stood next to Layla, “That day, after seeing many of my co-workers disappearing into thin air, I called them to see if they were okay. When they didn’t answer…”. You felt your heart sink into your chest as you said the last sentence, yet you couldn’t quite put your pain into words. The hole you felt in your heart when your calls went unanswered. Opening the door of your childhood door to be greeted to the heart-breaking silence. You knew it was over, that they were back, but the gaping wound that remained open five years was only beginning to heal. A tear ran through your cheek, “I kept it to remind myself that they would’ve liked me to go on with my life.” You were thankful you had stuck with that philosophy, otherwise you would’ve never moved to London.

You could sense grief in Layla’s honey eyes, as if she empathized with your feelings, but couldn’t quite vocalize her sorrow. Nevertheless, she eyed you from head to toe and reached for your forearm, “Looking good, Sunny,” she smiled and headed to the door, “Let’s go.”

You were a few blocks from where the neighbourhood started, standing next to Layla’s motorbike while she was on a call with Marc. She hung up and made her way to you.

“Marc and Steven are on their way,” she grabbed a flip phone from her pocket, “If you get in trouble, call us or text us. This phone has both of our numbers” she handed you the phone and you took it from her hand.

“What about my phone?” you thought it would be easier to add her number to your phone and take it with you.

“They might try to take it away, it’s better if you use this one” She offered to keep your phone in the meantime. “Be careful. They are armed and dangerous. Never let your guard down.” Her warning gave you chills. Were these guys really that bad?

After walking a few blocks more, you arrived at the place, expecting to see everyone dressed in the same attire, maybe people sitting in a circle, chanting something in an unknown language around a fireplace and whatnot. Instead, you were met by some kids playing football on the streets, neighbours chatting in the stairs of their apartments and tending to the small community garden out on the street. By all means, this seemed to be a pleasant place to be at, not quite the cult-like environment you’d expected. Regardless of everyone acting normal, you stuck out like a sore thumb as you walked through the street. You seemed to have caught the attention of many of the people there, staring at you like as if you were carrying a grenade in your pocket. Despite this, a young lady appeared to have pitied you, approaching you tenderly.

“Can we help you?” she examined your face, “You seem… lost.”

You took this as an opportunity to begin playing the role of the lost lamb. “I am,” you nodded, “I… I need help.”

“That’s alright, love,” she stroked your back, “Come with me, I know someone who can help you,” she beckoned. You felt guilty for abusing the woman’s generosity, but you kept telling yourself it was for the greater good.

She ushered you down the street and asked you your name. You replied with your fake name, not wanting to give away your real identity. She nodded and walked towards a small pen where a man was tending to goats. “Marvin, do you happen to know where Bobbi is?” she patted your back, “Our friend Sunny here needs help.”

“Lynn!” the big man greeted the woman, “Yeah, she’s in the diner, I believe,” he said as he scratched the goat’s head. She thanked him and led you to a few steps further to a large brick building.

When you entered, you could spot a communal diner, more potted vegetables, and an area with a makeshift cinema. With her hand still on your back, she walked you to a tiny gathering of people. You were able to make out a bit of the conversation they were having “… need to find a way to get our hands on that Stela. Also, make sure to keep sending money to Chicago. We need to make sure that maniac doesn’t get to—”

“Bobbi!”, Lynn called out. “I believe we could use some help,” she squeezed your arm, “right?”

Bobbi gave some orders to the individuals she was talking to and they scattered. She walked towards you, reading your every move. “Don’t be scared,” she beckoned you towards a table, “Let us talk.”

You both sat across each other, Simple Twist of Fate playing faintly through some speakers. “Tell me, what’s your name?” she crossed her hands on the table.

“Sunny.”

“And what brough you to us, Sunny?”

You tried sounding as miserable as possible, “I… feel lost. Ever since the blip, really.” You continued telling your pre-made sob story, trying to channel some of the very real feelings you’d felt, hoping it would make your story more believable.

Bobbi listened carefully to your every word, clueless to the fact you were lying. “It’s still baffling I lost five years of my life.” You tilted your head, facing the plastic tablecloth of the table you were fidgeting with.

“You won’t have to worry about material things anymore, Sunny. We have clothes, warm food and a place for you to sleep,” Bobbi stood up from the table, encouraging you to do the same, “Just one thing, before I show you around, Can I hold your hands?” she held out her palms so they faced upwards. The tattoo of the crocodile scales on her forearm was now visible, tormenting you. You reluctantly agreed, placing your hands inside of hers. She held them tightly and you saw the tattoo begin to move. Panicked, you tried pulling away, but Bobbi made sure to keep you in place, “Shh, it won’t take long, I promise.”

The tattoo finally stopped moving, turning green and returning to its original state. Despite you thinking this was something good, Bobbi looked wearily at you. “Why don't you come with me?.” You had a bad feeling about following her, provoking you to quickly send a ‘SOS’ text with the flip phone. You walked through a set of wooden stairs and arrived to a storage room worthy of a horror movie. It was full of what you hoped were mannequins wrapped in cloth and plastic, but knew deep down were most likely dead bodies. A man pinned you to a wall and started emptying out your pockets, including the phone Layla gave you. He then pushed you into the floor, and the doors slammed shut behind you, leaving you to your own devices. “Enjoy your stay, ‘Sunny’.” Bobbi mocked you through the door, and you could hear the sarcasm in her voice when she mentioned your made-up name. How had she found out, though?

“No, no, no, wait!!” you began banging your hands on the wooden door, hoping someone would be able to hear you. You leaned into the door and heard Bobbi giving instructions to the people outside the door. “… with Khonshu’s avatar. Whatever happens, make sure they stay there. Station people outside that window as well. You two, come with me. We need to find Khonshu and Taweret’s avatars.”

You were at least glad you’d managed to warn Layla before they took the phone away.

You began scanning your surroundings, tying to find an exit in case neither of them arrived. The giant window was sealed of by wooden planks, and the stairs that lead to the terrace were far too high for you to reach. You came to the scary conclusion that the only way out would be through that door, otherwise, you were trapped there for good. The ambience of the desolate and eerie room started making your anxiety flare up; you could only wish they were already on their way.

Every minute gone by felt like an eternity, awaiting any sign of their arrival. You were sat in a fetal position, your head between your legs. You were beginning to feel lightheaded, your breathing increasing in pace, when suddenly sounds of a fight on the outside became evident. Then, BAM! The door flung open, the masked figure with the formal white suit coming right through it and greeted you with a “Hello there.”

“Steven!” at this point, you could’ve easily recognized his voice, even if it was miles away.

He ran to you and offered his hand to help you up, “Let’s get you out of here, shall we?” Two men entered into the room and stormed at you. Steven kicked one of them in the chest, and he knocked the other one throwing his baton at his face as you watched from a safe distance. He then went to the door and locked it from the inside.

“How are we going to get out of here?” you turned to him.

He eyed the sealed window and looked at you. “I think I’ve got an idea.”

Steven began ripping the wooden planks off the window, grunting as he did, leaving the glassless window exposed. “Marc?”

Almost as soon as Steven asked for Marc, the suit vanished and turned into the mummy-like costume.

“On it,” Marc exits through the broken window, gesturing you to do the same. You do so and stand on the window ledge next to him. He grabs you by the waist, positioning himself to jump off the edge. “Hold on tight.”

“What?!” Before you get an answer, he leaps down the building, with you hugging him as tightly as you can.

Harrow’s people notice your landing immediately and start shooting. Marc shields you with his cape. He finally pulls away and throws one of his moon-shaped darts into one of the man’s chest, charging and punching the other one.

“Come on, let’s go!” he turns around and grabs you by the arm, running off with him. You made your way down one street, only to find it barricaded by men with guns. “Over here!” Marc shouted as he dragged you down the other street, except there were more people. You were surrounded from both sides.

You thought that would be the end of you, until a pair of golden wings pierced through one side of the armed crowd.

“This side is clear!” Layla yelled as the bullets bounced off her wings. The three of you headed that way. You could feel your heart leaping out of your chest as you ran. The rest of the mob was catching up with you, though. You grabbed a crowbar laying on the street to defend yourself. As the swarm of angry fanatics got nearer, Layla looked at Marc. “Right?”

“Left.”

Soon enough, both of them began taking down the group of people, Marc occasionally switching to Steven and vice versa.

Someone charged at you, and out of instinct, you fiercely struck them in the head with the crowbar. You paused to look at what you had just done. The man laid there, unconscious.

BANG!

You began feeling an intense burning on your thigh, the pain so intense you fell against a wall. You’d never felt anything like that in your entire life. The stinging sensation didn’t cease even when you pressed your hand against the source of pain. Your eyes grew wide as you freed your grip from your thigh, your palm now covered in crimson red. Layla swiftly ran to your aid.

“Leave me here! You two go!” you cried out to her.

She instantly shook her head, “What?! Not a chance!” and dragged you to a corner. Marc seemed to have noticed her since he followed the two of you.

As soon as Marc spots you and Layla on the ground, something seemed to have snapped inside of him, as if the gravity of the situation was dawning on him. He throws his head back and, once again, his costume switches to the version you were very familiar with. Jake's costume. A cult member tries to ambush him from the back, but he throws him on the ground and immediately slices his throat, blood gushing all over his costume.

Layla shares the same dumbfound look in her eyes as she sees Jake hurries towards you. He lifts you off the floor bridal-style, and asks Layla, “Where’s your bike?”

“We’re almost there.”

He adjusts you in his arms, and both of them start sprinting out to the street. Fortunately, Layla’s motorbike was close enough. You were hastily sandwiched between Layla and Jake, with Layla at the wheel. You dashed through the streets as you held onto Layla with one arm, you other hand preoccupied with your wounded leg. You began feeling a cold spot where the breeze was hitting your blood-ridden trousers.

After some time of going through twists and turns all over the place in what you assumed to be an attempt to lose anyone following you, you deicded to speak up.

“We’re going to the hospital, right?” you asked Layla, the pain from your leg refusing to die down.

“We can’t. Harrow has people all over the place,” Jake interjected, “Imagine this, you're hooked up to an IV. One of Harrow’s followers cranks up the morphine and boom, you’re a goner. Let’s just get back to Stevie’s place and I’ll patch you up. You’ll be good as new on Friday; you have my word.”

He could be right, but you didn’t want to die from an infected bullet wound, “Thank you, but no thank you. Please take us to a hospital, Layla”

“Don’t! This whole plan’s going to shit if you get killed,” he yelled.

“I won’t! I’ll notice if they mess with my dosage!”

“Oh really? What are you now, a doctor?” he teased.

“No, but I’d rather be treated by a professional, not Mr. Mercenary over here.”

Jake scoffed, “Now that’s real nice of you. Remind me who dealt with the guy that mugged you on Sunday? That’s right, Mr. Mercenary himself! Now Layla, would you be so kind as to—?”

“Will the two of you just shut up?!” the motorbike brusquely stopped on the side of the street next to an apartment complex. She stood up and made her costume disappear, whipping out a set of keys from her pockets. “We’re staying here for the night. I have things to treat that wound upstairs.”

You both stayed silent from the shock for a moment. Layla unlocked the main entrance of the building, “Are you two coming or what?” she shouted from the door.

“Yup, sorry,” you muttered

“Sí, señora,” Jake replied soon after, “O bueno, más bien señorita,” he said under his breath

He made his costume vanish and carried you once more bridal style through the entrance. After an uncomfortable elevator ride, you finally made it inside Layla’s apartment. Jake waited for Layla to place a towel underneath the leather couch. After she did, he carefully laid you down. He took off his jacket and threw it on the other couch.

“I’ll get the med kit,” Layla announced.

Jake followed suit, “Yeah, I’ll go wash my hands.”

You took this moment alone to scan your surroundings to distract you from the pain. Unlike Steven’s place, Layla’s home was all tidied up, although it still carried the maximalist aesthetic, having many trinkets and books placed neatly on shelves and bookcases. On the sideboard near the entrance, you spotted a framed polaroid picture of who you supposed to be a younger Layla besides a man you assumed was her father, with some sort of archaeological site behind them. Perhaps that’s why she was drawn to the family photo you had on your bookshelf. Next to it was another picture. This time, it was Layla with a flowy, white dress, holding a bouquet, and the person next to her wearing a tuxedo was… Steven?

Layla appeared from the kitchen with a box and a glass of water, her hair now tied up. “Sorry I couldn’t take you up on that water back at your place,” she handed the glass to you, “It would’ve been nice to simply sit there and chat,” she placed some pills on your other hand and muttered, “This should help with the pain.”

You took the pills and watched Layla as she knelt on the ground to lay out the contents of the med kit on the coffee table. The photo of Steven and Layla kept nagging your conscience, so you decided to do something about it. “I know it’s none of my business but…” it was sort of your business, since Steven did agree to go on a date with you, and if he was married, it meant he had either cheated on her, or they just had open relationship, “A-Are you and Steven… married?” you couldn’t help but stumble on your words.

She diverted her focus from placing things on the table onto you, smiling and shaking her head, “No, I was married to Marc,” she stood up, “And we officially ended it about a week ago. Although we had been separated for a few months now.”

She went on to seat next to you on the couch . “We realized we needed time alone to figure things out.”

Before you could reply, Jake came bursting out from the bathroom. “Alright, let’s get this over with.”

He knelt next to you and inspected the wound. “Luck seems to be on your side today.” you would argue otherwise, but at the very least that meant he had good news, “The bullet doesn’t seem to have hit any arteries, it’s mostly superficial.” He sprayed you with lidocaine, “Let’s fish this little bastard out.”

Layla offered her hand for you to squeeze, but you refused, not wanting to hurt her. “The lidocaine won’t do much,” she insisted, “Wanna see who’s stronger?”

You acceded to her proposal, unsure as to what she was referring to, and began squeezing as soon as Jake started the recovery efforts. To counteract you crushing her hand, Layla, tried to squeeze as the same amount of force you were. That’s what she meant by finding out who was stronger.

“In the meantime, tell me: did you find anything?” she asked. You had almost forgotten the reason you’d gotten shot in the first place.

“I did,” you managed to say through gritted teeth, “They said something about getting their hands on a Stela.”

“Did they specify what Stela?” Layla inquired. You shook your head.

“They also said something about sending money to Chicago to— Ouch!” you angrily turned to face Jake.

“Can’t you speak without moving so much?” he argued for himself.

You carried on, “To keep some maniac away from someone.”

Layla concluded, “That’s probably where Harrow is.”

After a while of doing who knows what, Jake, at last, recovered the bullet from your thigh with a proclamation of victory. “Congratulations!” he announced as if he was talking about a new-born baby, “It’s a bullet. And his name will be… Carlos!” You couldn’t help but giggle at his silly comment.

After Jake stitched and bandaged you up, Layla excused herself to her bedroom. Even though she’d offered her bed to you, you had declined. It’s not like you could’ve moved much, anyways.

Jake, on the other hand, had occupied the spot next to you on the couch once you were sitting. He sprawled out his limbs and closed his eyes. For a while, you thought he was asleep. That was until you heard the faintest ‘I’m sorry’ escaping his lips.

"I'm sorry for earlier," he paused, "And for threatening you yesterday". Jake didn’t look like the kind of guy to be very open and vulnerable about his feelings, which made his apology appear even more sincere.

He most likely wasn’t expecting you to hear him because of the look he gave you when you replied, “It’s okay,” he straightened his position on the couch, scooting closer to you. It seemed he doubted what you were saying.

“Besides, you’ve saved my arse twice now,” you smiled and moved closer to him as well.

You hadn’t noticed how little space had been left between the both of you; you could practically feel his breath on your face, hear his quickened heartbeat. Warmth and desire were radiating off you both, it was only a matter of either of you closing that gap with a kiss.

You could imagine every ounce of him pressed against your body, every strand of hair on his head brushing softly against your forehead, his lips pressed up against yours.

It would be easy, really, just to close the gap, easy to give in.

The dream like trance you were on dissipated as quickly as it had appeared when Jake stood up from the couch and headed for the door.

“Where are you going?” you mentally ask yourself if you did something wrong.

“I have a car not far from here. I’ll sleep there,” he turned off the lights, opened the door and left, not even saying goodbye.

Alone in the darkness, you couldn’t help but wonder what it would’ve felt like kissing him.

Another a/n: I'm sorry I left you guys hanging there!!! I promise a kiss will be coming soon. In the meantime, thank you so much for reading!!! Taglist: !!IMPORTANT!! The crossed out usernames are ones Tumblr wouldn't let me tag. Please check your visibility settings, since that may be the reason I can't tag you. @dont-feel-so-good-peter @stilllivindue2spite @dreamtogether2000 @simonsbluee @sunnysidesidra @harrys-tittie @n0ripeaches @soggumm @victoriacourone @beebslebobs (Btw, if you want to get removed from the taglist, feel free to dm me and I'll do it right away, no strings attached.)

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slippinmickeys · 1 year

Text

The Mesas of Deuteronilus Mensae (33/?)

They had not spoken to the crew in the HAB for nearly a month. After speaking with them daily—and often many times during the day—not having that outside line of communication was beginning to make it feel like they were the only two people who existed. Not just on the planet, but anywhere.

And it oddly just… worked. They worked. Like interlocking pieces, it felt like they had been machine-toolled for each other, seamlessly fitting together in all of the ways that were discussed in polite company and several that weren’t.

Scully knew this kind of chemistry was once-in-a-lifetime. And like Nerio, Mars’ consort, Scully was willing to fight for it.

They were stopped, deploying the penultimate weather balloon, which Scully had volunteered to do herself. It wasn’t that she wanted to get away from Mulder, but the solitude gave her time to think, to plan, to get her mind right before heading for their last deploy-point. After which they would have to head back to the HAB. To whatever had happened there, and ultimately to their fate.

She stepped around the clunky form of Robo-3, who they’d ordered to follow them, keeping a thick cable tether on him in case of mission creep. The robot had sustained unknown damage when the screwdriver had been forcibly lodged in his motherboard, but he was still attempting to assist Scully, sluggish and off as he was. He still had the mechanical stutter, once or twice tried to roll off into the Martian countryside, and occasionally dropped things, but it was easier to use him to log her actions than it was to report everything back to Mulder on board the rover so that he could document her progress for the record.

“Ready to deploy WBD-263,” she said into her comm-link.

“WBD-263 ch-ch-check,” came Robo-3’s response.

Scully switched on the device’s motor and hit the solar panels with compressed air, pushing the can back into the pouch that hung at her side. The suit was getting tight around the middle, and she was nervous about fitting into it not far into the near future. With a sigh, she launched the second-to-last weather balloon up into the winds.

“Two Six Three deployed,” she reported.

“T-t-two Six Three, logged. P-p-osition marked.”

“Thank you, Robo-3,” she said politely.

“You are w-w-welcome, Scully.”

She wasn’t quite ready for the airlock yet, and leaned back, trying to get her spine to pop and looking out at the Martian vista. It really was a sight to see.

She turned to the robotic assistant. There were scorch marks around his main access panel, and several dents in his side. She felt a soft swell of misplaced empathy. He was a robot, afterall.

“What happened to you out there, Three?” she asked him after a few moments, her tone gentle, as if she were trying to approach a skittish colt.

“Out w-w-where?”

“We pulled a screwdriver out of your motherboard, Three. Someone tried to hurt you.” She knew it was ridiculous framing it thus to a robot, but the robo assistants of the HAB were programmed to be courteous and friendly, and you couldn’t help but anthropomorphise them, to a degree.

Three was quiet for a moment, and then… “D-d-deprogram.”

Scully sighed. “Maintain all current programs, Three.”

“M-maintaining.”

Scully turned to go into the airlock when, against her better judgment, and cursing herself even while she was doing it, called out one last thing.

“Three?”

“Y-yes?”

“You’re a good robot, Three.”

For some reason, Scully pictured a lonely dog that gently began to wag its tail.

“Th-thank you, Scully. You are a capable and k-k-kind human.”

Scully shook her head ruefully and gave one more check to make sure the robot’s tether hadn’t gotten twisted or hung up on anything and was reaching for the airlock release when the robot spoke again. She turned slowly back to it.

“Robo-3, repeat.”

“Hardsuit signal d-d-detected.”

“You’re probably picking up on my suit, Three.”

“N-negative, Scully. Hardsuit signal is w-weak. One point two four clicks north-northwest.”

It had to be another bug in the damaged robot’s system. But he looked so damn earnest .

Jesus. She’d been out here too long. “Mulder,” Scully said into her comms.

“Mulder here.”

“Three is reporting a hardsuit signal.”

“It’s probably yours. He’s glitchy.”

“That’s what I told him, but he said it was weak and one point two four clicks north-northwest.”

“That’s towards the HAB.”

“Yeah,” Scully said, a tingling feeling crawling up her spine. “My suit can’t pick up a signal that far out, can you run a check from the rover?”

“Standby.”

Scully turned on her heel in the direction that Three had indicated. There was nothing in the distance but a far off mesa and miles and miles of rusty dirt and rock.

“Scully?” Mulder’s voice crackled into her ear speaker.

“Yeah?”

“The rover is picking up one signal. A hardsuit. Henderson’s signature.”

“Is the other rover out here?”

“Negative.” His tenor was grave. “I’m picking up Henderson and nothing else.”

They’d had to release Robo-3 or he would have slowed them down. Scully removed the tether with a feeling like she was taking the collar off of a beloved dog and moving to a home in a distant city that didn’t allow pets. Her nose had tingled like she was about to cry.

“Should I f-f-follow you?” he had asked.

Fucking hormones . “Yes,” Scully had said on a ridiculous sniff, and she closed the door on the robot, feeling guilty for leaving a man behind, even if he was a machine that didn’t feel a thing. Once she was back in the rover, she’d closed the airlock door with more force than necessary.

Mulder drove at break-neck, or as near to break-neck speed as the rover was capable.

“There!” said Scully. She was standing behind Mulder in the left-hand pilot’s seat, still fully dressed in her hardsuit, sans helmet. Scanning the horizon before them, her eyes caught an oddly shaped hump to their 11:00. Mulder yanked the wheel in the direction she indicated and she held onto the top of his seat as the rover swerved left.

“Shit. Shit!” she said, as they approached, the hardsuit-clad figure lying prone on the ground, dust built up in a drift at his back. The three purple stripes on the suit’s legs and arms indicating Henderson.

Scully slammed on her helmet without bothering to check if the sticky mechanism was sealed and threw herself into the airlock. She was out onto the regolith as soon as it cleared, rushing to Henderson’s side, lifting up his left arm so that she could take a look at his bio-readout. She had to clear dust from it. He was on his side facing away from her, and she couldn’t get a look at his face as his gold-plated face shield was down.

His readout was flashing red, indicating low battery, his suit on the absolute last dregs of its power. It couldn’t so much as show her his lifesigns. Even if she pulled up his bio-readouts on her own suit using the medical program, his suit didn’t have the necessary battery power to transmit.

“Mulder, get out here, I need you!” she shouted.

There was a muffled grunt—probably as Mulder scrambled to put on his suit. “I’m on my way!”

Scully pushed at Henderson, who flopped limply until he was lying on his back. She could probably, with the added strength the planet’s lesser gravity gave her, heave the man over her shoulder and up to the airlock, but she knew she shouldn’t be doing any kind of heavy lifting, particularly after the incident the week prior. She was supposed to be taking it easy. And so she waited. And waited. Each minute ticking by that she couldn’t help her patient and crew member longer than the one before it.

Finally, Mulder burst through the airlock door and practically landed on top of them, so powerful had been his leap.

“Is he alive?” Mulder panted into the comm when he landed, spraying dust and debris in a three foot arc around them.

“I don’t know,” Scully responded. “His suit is running on fumes. We need to get him into the rover. I’m going to go through first. You get him in the airlock and I’ll pull him through when he’s clear.

Mulder swore but bent down to bodily hoist the man up, and Scully made for airlock. Once in the rover, she tore off her helmet and shucked off the top section of her suit. It seemed to take ages for the airlock’s vacuum to be satisfied with its clearing job and finally opened its inner door, expelling the body of Henderson partially onto the floor of the rover. Mulder must have had the man half-propped up and leaning against the inner door.

Scully dragged him fully into the rover, so that Mulder could go through, and she grabbed for Henderson’s helmet and pulled it off. Its mechanism was relatively clean, not choked with dust and grime like her own.

The man’s face was pasty white, chalky. He didn’t look alive. Scully worked her fingers up under his chin until she found a pulse; thready and weak, his skin like ice.

Mulder came through the airlock a moment later.

“Is he alive?” he asked the second he’d removed his helmet.

“Barely,” Scully said. “Mulder, I need you to help me get him into the lab. It’s a med bay now. If we don’t get him warmed up, he’s going to die.”

XxXxXxXxXxX

Mulder shucked off his gloves and helped Scully rid the other astronaut of his hardsuit and then grabbed Henderson’s shoulders, leaving Scully to lift his lower half so that he could take nearly all of the other man’s weight. He eyed Scully carefully as they worked Henderson onto the lab table, Mulder keeping a careful watch for any sign of discomfort on his lover’s face.

While Mulder held onto the cold, dead weight of their crewman, Scully extended the lab table into a bed and worked one of the cot mattresses under him, piling the blankets from all the other cots on top of him. Then Scully bent down and pulled a box from one of the cabinets and tore it open. She tossed Mulder several small packets.

“Heat packs,” she said, holding one up and tearing off a plastic sheet from the top. “Pulling this off activates the chemicals that heat it up. Once you get one off, put it on Henderson. You need to cover him in these, Mulder, head to toe.”

Mulder nodded and began tearing off the activation strips and working the packs under the blankets, pressing them into Henderson’s clammy flesh. While he worked to heat the man up, Scully was a blur of activity, flitting this way and that, working an oxygen cannula under his nose, and hooking the injured man up to a bio monitoring station. Soon the rocky blip-blip of Henderson’s tachy heartbeat filled the rover.

Scully had already secured heat packs to Henderson’s neck—the quickest way to heat up his blood—so when Mulder got to the top of his chest, he stood back, breathing hard. Mulder was still wearing his hardsuit and he was sweating inside of it, the joints rubbing blisters into his flesh.

“What do we do now?” he asked, pulling at the neck of his suit with a wince.

“We need to—” Scully started, but cut herself off. Something had drawn her attention to the man on the table in front of them. She bent over to examine Henderson’s head, squinting when she got close.

“What is it?” Mulder asked.

Scully reached forward and touched at something on the man’s hairline behind his right ear. When she pulled her hand back, it was covered in a thick smear of blood.

“There’s a contusion here, Mulder,” she said, straightening, her face going pale. “Someone hit him. Hard.”

#fanfiction #fanfic #the x-files #my fic #msr #au #wip #mars au

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sednonamoris · 1 year

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random fun facts that are canon in ghost story part 2:

as you might have guessed, the horse ghost keeps and rides after the events of ch. 2 is the big dark colt who grows up to be a big dark stallion. he gets lost in the mix after blackwater, but i like to think he survives the chaos and ends up with a local family and a relatively peaceful retirement after running with outlaws for so long

arthur’s dog, copper, dies of old age during the year john leaves the gang. ghost helps him dig the grave and plant a dogwood tree over it. it still flowers beautifully every spring

charles is appalled by ghost’s archery skills (or lack thereof)

in his more bitter moods arthur wishes he had courted abigail instead of mary. part of this is genuine interest in and care for her, and part of this is a manifestation of his jealousy of john. thinking about it too long usually only makes him feel worse

ghost is great at card games but has never beat tilly at a game of dominoes, and they’re touchy about the subject. tilly finds this very amusing

with rare exceptions john is a happy, goofy drunk who will start gushing about what a great best friend ghost is to anyone within earshot. the entire gang is sick of this, except, of course, for ghost

abigail has extremely complicated feelings about john, ghost, and arthur that she is too scared to think about for long. eventually this will catch up with her. for now she busies herself with raising jack

#wake up babe new ghost story lore dropped #ghost story #the van der linde ghost #fran writes #halfway done with ch. 11 let’s gooooo #headcanons

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stinkfacestories · 1 year

Note

You listed Jason Momoa as a fetish. Would you rather give/get a stinkface from him, or give/get slimed by him in a gunge match?

Tough choice. Ideally I would have a nice heavy Hawaiian themed lunch with him, pizza, spam, and cheap beer, then we'd have a nice long wrestling match in a very hot, confined gym—hopefully resulting in a fair amount of face to ass contact, and farts. The winner of the main ch would get to dump a 10 gallon drum of colt, creamy, right green slime over the other

#stinkface #farting #stinkface stories #face farting #jason mamoa

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sigilmint · 2 years

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I was talking with a friend about changes that could have been made to "DEATHLOOP" that would have helped shape the focus that early game is lacking, carrying the player through to a stronger investment in the story overall as a result. In the /noclip interview with Dinga Bakaba, he talks about the cognitive load of the beginning of the game, and about not wanting to overwhelm the player with too much information. This is something I didn't feel was very successful looking back, as I felt pretty overwhelmed with all the menu tutorial text, the interactive leads menu, and the plot all happening at once. I also had a hard time piecing together various plot points when the information was sometimes in pieces many, many hours of gameplay apart. This meant that I still didn't put together Colt's timeline until after I'd finished the game and looked it up.

However, I have one idea for something that would have made me more invested in sorting through that early-game 'information overload'.

The Visionaries are larger-than-life characters who have certainly done some awful shit. They're not morally-upstanding people in the slightest, and the task of killing them to break the Loop is one that feels easy to go along with. But how did all this happen, unless they (and you) were all good friends, once? The deeper you dig, the more connections you find, and a happier past feels more and more real, though you don't get to remember it.

My proposal is to 'break the rules' a little bit on the immersive sim genre, and to insert one very short cutscene at the beginning of the game, before Colt wakes up on that beach. Perhaps they are at Julianna's house, for dinner and drinks, the night before First Day:

E: “I propose a toast!”

Ch: “Siddown four eyes, that's lame.”

E: “N-no! I think it's important! This is a momentous occasion!”

A: “Ah, let him speak, he's gonna spend First Day alone, anyway.”

W: “Get it over with, Egor, it's getting cold and I have stuff to set up at the lab before tomorrow.”

E: “Right. I propose a toast to AEON, to my co-founders, without whom none of this would have been possible. Um, but also, mostly, a toast to Colt—Colt, without you—”

J: “We wouldn't have had anything!”

H: “We wouldn't have had eternity.”

Fi: “Would have been washed away in the tide of time like anyone else~”

Fr: “Would have missed one hell of a ride.”

E: “Yes! Exactly! All of that. And, and more! To Colt!”

All: “To Colt!”

And they'd raise their glasses to you, the player, as the scene fades to black.

A simple scene like that would say so much about these characters; they were friends, they bantered, they fought, they laughed. And apparently this thing is, at the end of the day, all your fault. On one hand you would have the information that this is how you know them, while on the other, you'd have the task (that you've set yourself) to kill them. It would create so much burning curiosity for the player, that I think we're lacking when we first find Colt's pin board. To set up the world with them having a good opinion of you, to trust you, would make Julianna's announcement about your betrayal all the more compelling. Conversely, it would make the reveals about their shady backgrounds hit the player a little harder—we were friends with these people? It teases the importance of the past Colt has with Blackreef, that it predates what's currently going on. It puts the little pieces you can string together yourself if you're looking in every nook and cranny of the game, but pulls them into the foreground instead.

And I don't think I would change anything else about the intro or the 'guided tour'. I think the player having that one piece of information that Colt can't remember would feel important, especially if it was followed by your character claiming to not remember anything at all. You would hear his name said aloud by them, before he even remembers it himself. You'd see their smiling faces, no weapons at the table, familial togetherness, and that'd be all you have to go on.

And in that way, you'd have that memory as something not that different from the floaty text.

Something that one Colt remembers.

And that Colt gets to be you.

#deathloop #deathloop meta #coughcoughhiremearkane #please forgive the use of the word 'hell' i know it wouldn't be written like that #it just feels like a good frank phrase and it gets the point across #:P #there is of course no christianity in the isles #also family dinner at julianna's the night before the loop is definitely in my head bc of mae and it's bc mae is RIGHT

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casbooks · 1 year

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Books of 2023

Book 22 of 2023

Title: The Ravens: The Men Who Flew in America's Secret War in Laos Authors: Christopher Robbins ISBN: 9780517566121 Tags: A-1 Skyraiders, AC-47 Spooky, Ambassador Leonard Unger, Antonov AN-2 Colt, Aviation, B-52 Stratofortress, C-130 Hercules, C-46 Commando, C-47 Skytrain, CH-34 Choctaw, CIA Allen Dulles, CIA Hugh Tovar, COD Democratic Republic of the Congo - Congo-Kinshasa, COD Kinshasa (Leopoldville), COD Lubumbashi (Elisabethville), COD MNC Congolese National Movement, COD Mobutu Sese Seko, COD Patrice Lumumba, COD Simba Rebellion (1963-1965), CSAR, EC-47 Electric Goon, F-105 Thunderchief, F-4 Phantom II, FAC, Fast-FAC, FRA ADT Colonel Roger Trinquier, FRA ADT French Ground Army (Armée de terre), FRA ADT General Henri Navarre, FRA ADT General Raoul Salan, FRA ADT Marshall Jean de Lattre de Tassigny, FRA France, FRA Madame Lulu, From LAPL, HH-3E Jolly Green Giant, HH-53 Super Jolly Green Giants, IRN Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini, IRN Iran, KHM Cambodia, KHM Cambodian Civil War (1967-1975), KHM Khmer Rouge, KHM King & President Norodom Sihanouk, KHM Phnom Penh, KHM Tonle Sap (Great Lake), LAO Attopeu, LAO Ban Ban, LAO Ban Ban Valley, LAO Ban Son, LAO Bataillon Guerrier 403 (Laotian Civil War), LAO Blind Bonze Pho Satheu, LAO Bolovens Plateau, LAO Colonel Deuan Sunnalath, LAO Communist Neutralists, LAO Defense Minister Sisouk Na Champassak, LAO Hmong Meo Tribesmen, LAO Hotel Lima, LAO ICC Internationl Control Commission, LAO Ice House One and Two, LAO Jungle's Mouth, LAO Khang Khay, LAO Khang Khay - Chinese Cultural Center, LAO King Savang Vatthana, LAO King Sisavang Vong, LAO Klick 11, LAO Lam Son 719 (1971) (Vietnam War), LAO Lan Xiang 9 - Raven Hooch, LAO Laos, LAO Laotian Civil War (1959-1975), LAO Les Rendezvous des Amis, LAO Lhat Houang, LAO Lima 35 - Paksane (Laotian Civil War), LAO Lima Site 103 - Phu Da Pho (Laotian Civil War), LAO Lima Site 108 - Moung Soui (Laotian Civil War), LAO Lima Site 113 - Moung Cha (Laotian Civil War), LAO Lima Site 15 - Ba Na (Laotian Civil War), LAO Lima Site 15 - Phong Saly (Laotian Civil War), LAO Lima Site 20 - Sam Thong (Laotian Civil War), LAO Lima Site 204 - Khang Kho (Laotian Civil War), LAO Lima Site 20A - Long Tieng (Laotian Civil War), LAO Lima Site 262 - Ban Xon / Ban Houei Pamone (Laotian Civil War), LAO Lima Site 276 - Lat Sen (Laotian Civil War), LAO Lima Site 32 - Boung Lam (Laotian Civil War), LAO Lima Site 36 - Na Khang (Laotian Civil War), LAO Lima Site 46 - Seno (Laotian Civil War), LAO Lima Site 85 - Phu Pha Thi (Laotian Civil War), LAO Long Tieng, LAO Luang Prabang, LAO Moung Soui, LAO MR Military Region (Laotian Civil War), LAO MR1 (Laotian Civil War), LAO MR2 (Laotian Civil War), LAO MR3 (Laotian Civil War), LAO MR4 (Laotian Civil War), LAO MR5 (Laotian Civil War), LAO Muong Mai, LAO Nong Het, LAO Operation About Face / Kou Kiet (1969) (Laotian Civil War), LAO Operation Barrel Roll (1964-1973) (Laotian Civil War) (Vietnam War), LAO Operation Bedrock (1971) (Laotian Civil War), LAO Operation Black Lion IV (1972) (Laotian Civil War), LAO Operation Blind Bat (1964-1970) (Laotian Civil War), LAO Operation Glass A (Laotian Civil War), LAO Operation Goodlook (1970) (Laotian Civil War), LAO Operation Leapfrog (1970) (Laotian Civil War), LAO Operation Nighty-Night (1969) (Laotian Civil War), LAO Operation Northwind (Laotian Civil War), LAO Operation Pig Fat (1968) (Laotian Civil War), LAO Operation Rain Dance (1969) (Laotian Civil War), LAO Operation Shining Brass / Prairie Fire / Phu Dong (1965-1975) (Laotian Civil War) (Vietnam War), LAO Operation Steel Tiger (1965-1968) (Laotian Civil War) (Vietnam War), LAO Operation Tiger Hound (1965-1968) (Laotian Civil War) (Vietnam War), LAO Operation Westwind (Laotian Civil War), LAO Operation White Star (1959-1961) (Laotian Civil War), LAO Operation X (1946-1954) (French Indochina War), LAO Operation Yankee Team (1964) (Laotian Civil War), LAO Padong, LAO Pakse, LAO Paksong, LAO Pathet Lao, LAO Phong Saly, LAO Phou Khean, LAO Phou Nok Kok (Black Lion), LAO Phou Tham, LAO Plain of Jars / Plaine des Jarres, LAO Prime Minister Phoui Sananikone, LAO Prime Minister Souvanna Phouma, LAO Prince Souvanna Phouma, LAO Project Waterpump (1964-1973) (Laotian Civil War), LAO Purple Porpoise, LAO RLA Captain Kong Le, LAO RLA General Oudone Sananikone, LAO RLA General Phoumi Nosavan, LAO RLA General Vang Pao, LAO RLA Royal Laotian Army, LAO RLA SGU Special Guerrilla Units, LAO RLAF CPK Chao Pha Khao Hmong Pilots/Backseaters (Laotian Civil War), LAO RLAF Lt Colonel Lee Lue, LAO RLAF Royal Lao Air Force, LAO Roadrunner Lake, LAO Route 13, LAO Route 19, LAO Route 23, LAO Route 4, LAO Route 6, LAO Route 7, LAO Route 7/71 Junction, LAO Route 71, LAO Sam Nuea, LAO Sam Thong, LAO Saravane, LAO Se Kong River, LAO Skyline Ridge, LAO St. Valentine's Day Massacre (Laotian Civil War), LAO Tchepone, LAO US Programs Evaluation Office (Laotian Civil War), LAO USAF Butterfly FAC (Laotian Civil War), LAO USAF Project 404 (Laotian Civil War), LAO USAF Steve Canyon Program - Ravens FAC (Laotian Civil War), LAO Vientiane, LAO Vientiane - US Air Attache (Laotian Civil War), LAO Vientiane - US Embassy (Laotian Civil War), LAO Wattay Airport, LAO White Rose, LAO Xieng Khouang, LBY Colonel Muammar al-Qaddafi, LBY Libya, O-1 Bird Dog, OV-10 Bronco, Pilatus Porter, PT-76 Amphibious Light Tank, SpecOps, T-28 Trojan, THA Ban Vinai, THA CIA 4802 Joint Liaison Detachment Logistics Office - Udorn (Laotian Civil War), THA Nam Phang, THA PARU Border Patrol Police Aerial Resupply Unit, THA RTAF Royal Thai Air Force, THA RTAFB Nakhon Phanom Royal Thai Air Base, THA RTAFB Ubon Royal Thai Air Base, THA RTAFB Udorn Royal Thai Air Base, THA Thailand, THA USAF ISC Infiltration Surveillance Center - Nakhon Phanom (Igloo White) (Vietnam War), U-17 Skywagon, US Air America Eugene Hasenfus, US Albert Hakim, US Ambassador George McMurtrie Godley III, US Ambassador Llewellyn Thompson, US Ambassador William Sullivan, US Averrell Harriman (Governor of NY) (Ambassador at Large), US CIA Anthony Posepny (Tony Poe), US CIA Burr Smith, US CIA Central Intelligence Agency, US CIA Dave Morales, US CIA Douglas Blaufarb, US CIA Ed Wilson, US CIA Frank Snepp, US CIA Henry Hecksher, US CIA Jerry 'Hog' Daniels, US CIA John Stockwell, US CIA Kham Sing (Gold Lion), US CIA Lawrence Devlin, US CIA Pat Landry, US CIA Phillip Agee, US CIA Richard Helms, US CIA Ted Shackley, US CIA Tom Clines, US CIA Will Green (Black Lion), US CIA William Colby, US COA CASI Continental Air Services International, US COA Continental Airlines, US Dr. Henry Kissinger, US Edgar "Pop" Buell, US Father Lucien Bouchard (Catholic Priest), US Iran-Conta Affair, US John Gunther Dean (Diplomat), US President Dwight D. Eisenhower, US Secretary of Defense Melvin Laird, US Secretary of State Dean Rusk, US Senator Edward Kennedy, US Senator J. William Fullbright, US Senator Stuart Symington, US State Department, US T.D. Allman (Journalist), US Tom Corcoran (Diplomat), US USA Biological Warfare Corps, US USA General Earle Wheeler, US USA General William Westmoreland, US USA Green Berets, US USA United States Army, US USA USSF Special Forces, US USAF 14th Air Commando Wing, US USAF 1st Air Commando Wing, US USAF 1st Air Commando Wing - Det 6 (Laotian Civil War), US USAF 20th Helicopter Squadron, US USAF 22nd Special Operations Sqd - Zorro, US USAF 23rd TASS - NAIL FAC, US USAF 23rd TASS - OL1 - Rustic FAC (Ubon) (Cambodian Civil War) (Vietnam War), US USAF 56th Air Commando Wing, US USAF 56th Special Operations Wing, US USAF 56th Special Operations Wing - Det 1, US USAF 7th ABCCC Airborne Command and Control Sqd - Cricket, US USAF 7th Air Force, US USAF 7th/13th Air Force, US USAF Colonel Mike Heenan, US USAF Fairchild Air Force Base WA, US USAF General Curtis LeMay, US USAF General George Brown, US USAF General John D. Lavelle, US USAF General Louis T. Seith, US USAF General Richard V. Secord, US USAF General William Momyer, US USAF Generl Robert L. Petit, US USAF Gus Sonnenberg, US USAF Hurlburt Field FL, US USAF JEST Jungle Environment Survival Training, US USAF Lt Colonel George Vogel, US USAF Lt Colonel Mark Berent, US USAF Major General Harry Heinie Aderholt, US USAF Major John Clark Pratt, US USAF United States Air Force, US USMC Lt Colonel Oliver North, US USMC United States Marine Corps, USAID, USSR 1st Secretary Nikita Khrushchev, USSR Foreign Minister Andrei Gromyko, VNM 1972 Easter Offensive (1972) (Vietnam War), VNM Bien Hoa, VNM Bien Hoa Air Base (Vietnam War), VNM CIA Air America (1950-1976) (Vietnam War), VNM DRV Lao Dong Party, VNM DRV NVA 148th Regiment, VNM DRV NVA 174th Regiment, VNM DRV NVA 312th Division, VNM DRV NVA 316th Division, VNM DRV NVA 766th Regiment, VNM DRV NVA General Vo Nguyen Giap, VNM DRV NVA Group 559, VNM DRV NVA North Vietnamese Army, VNM DRV NVAF North Vietnamese Air Force, VNM DRV VC Viet Cong, VNM DRV VM 304th Division, VNM DRV VM Regiment 98, VNM DRV VM Viet Minh, VNM FRA ADT Cap St Jacques Military School, VNM French Indochina War (1946-1954), VNM Green Beret Affair (Vietnam War), VNM Ho Chi Minh Trail (Vietnam War), VNM II Corps (Vietnam War), VNM Nha Trang, VNM Operation Arc Light (1965-1973) (Vietnam War), VNM Operation Igloo White (1968-1973) (Vietnam War), VNM Operation Linebacker II (1972) (Vietnam War), VNM Operation Pony Express (1965-1969) (Laotian Civil War) (Cambodian Civil War) (Vietnam War), VNM Paris Peace Accords (1973) (Vietnam War), VNM Phan Rang Air Base, VNM RVN ARVN Army of the Republic of Vietnam, VNM RVN Nguyen Van Thieu, VNM RVN Vietnamization Policy (Vietnam War), VNM US MACV Military Assistance Command Vietnam (Vietnam War), VNM USAF TACC Tactical Air Control Center - BLUE CHIP (Vietnam War), VNM Vietnam, VNM Vietnam War (1955-1975) Rating: ★★★★★ (5 Stars) Subject: Books.Military.20th-21st Century.Asia.Vietnam War.Laotian Civil War.Aviation.FAC.Ravens

Description: Officially the war in Laos did not exist - both North Vietnam and the USA denied they had troops there. In fact, thousands of North Vietnamese were invading the country and pouring down the Ho Chi Minh Trail on their way to the south, and the Americans were fighting a vigorous war against them from the air.

The Ravens were the pilots, all volunteers, who flew through heavy groundfire to identify targets and call in air-strikes. Their mission was so secret that they were 'sold' their prop-driven planes for a dollar apiece so they could be struck from US Air Force records. They wore no uniform and carried no identification. Refugees from the bureaucracy of the war in Vietnam, they accepted the murderous casualty rates of what was known as the Steve Canyon Program in return for a life of unrestricted flying and fighting.

Devoted to the hill tribesmen they fought alongside, the Ravens did their job with extraordinary skill and crazy courage and with a humour that was all of its own. This is the story, brilliantly told for the first time, of these extraordinary men. Based on extensive interviews with the survivors, it is a tale of undeniable heroism, blending real-life romance, adventure and tragedy.

Review: This was a great book with a lot of problems.

The #1 problem was that I was reading an ebook version from Apostrophe books that was, quite simply, poorly done. So many issues with the conversion... I’s became 1′s... places and names were spelled 3 different ways throughout the book... issues like that.

The #2 problem was that there were multiple stories being told in a book about one story. This book had some good info on the Raven FACs, but it also went deeply into the story of the Laotian Civil War, the French Indochina War, the Hmong people, Henry Kissinger and the Nixon Administration. All of these things are intertwined and important, but the author uses up a LOT of the books real estate for these topics which tends to take a lot of the focus away form the Ravens, which the book is supposed to be about.

It’s still a 5 star book because it does go deeply into the stories of the who, the what, the when, and the where. You get a real good feel for the cast of characters that made up the Raven FACs, and you learn a lot about the Laotian Civil War, the CIA, the political issues and more.

It’s really a good primer and a good way to get a feel for what happened in the region.

#Books #Ebooks #Booklr #Bookblr #nonfiction #history #military history #laos #hmong #laotian civil war #vietnam war #forward air controller #Raven FAC

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