_-{Year 845: You Fight To Breath}-_
Clouds blanketed the sky, covering the town in a pitch black dark that overcast the rundown slum. Lights began flickering out across the streets one by one, the slum's residents beginning to retire to the night. F/N followed suit, but as the minutes passed he found himself unable to. There was an a subtle eeriness that crept tonight, lurking in the dark, his ears just barely able to pick it up. Whenever he would he'd shoot up with squinted eyes, surveying his shadowy apartment for the source.
Maybe his father was finally returning and couldn't get the key in the lock? No, he would've already been barking for me to let him in, or fallen asleep at the front step. It couldn't be him, he shook his head, but staggered out of bed towards the door anyways. If he was there, problem solved, if not he could return to bed knowing there's nothing lurking around. Although perhaps that was a little too naive of him, so when he gripped the handle he didn't release the deadbolt. The motion was deliberately slow as he turned it, waiting for any stranger to try and bust it down.
"Open up! L/N! You dirty bastard!" A loud thump resonated through the wood door, startling F/N despite his suspicions.
The boy caught his breath before scrambling away, searching around the room for a set of clothes that he could throw on quickly. His eyes landed on the wooden drawer beside his bed, and the next second he'd scattered its contents onto the floor. With messy hair and crusted eyes he sifted the pile of ratty clothing for a pair of worn jeans and a stained linen shirt, then laced on a pair of boots.
"I swear to god you old drunk! You either open this door or I'll break it down!" He growled adamantly. "Don't test me L/N! I'm a crazy motherfucker, I'll tell you that! And I'll also crack your skull on the floor if you don't pay me back!"
"The hell's wrong with this guy." F/N muttered, unlatching the metal clamp fastened to his window's lock. A couple years back he'd unbarred it while his father was away, for situations like this. And sure, he was on the third floor, but it was better than being in here when that guy got in. Those kind of men are the worst. They lend money to those they know won't be paying it back, whether through pity or stupidity, just to end up beating the life out of them when they can't. Due to one of those men he'd made it a point to teach himself how to roll when landing on the ground next time. His foot hadn't been quite right after he'd jumped from him, and still wasn't even now.
"You little rat!" Splinters snapped off the doorframe. "This is the last time anyone will be lending you any money! I'll kill you, you old fool! Dead, you hear me!?" He snapped the door's lock, and now it was only the chair holding him back. That wouldn't last long even, seeing as it had nothing to keep it from sliding back.
"Shit." F/N tugged on the window. "Oh no, come on don't do this." His face twisted into a mortified expression and he pulled as hard as he could, fingertips white with pressure, face strained. It didn't move. He balled a fist and pounded on it while the other kept tugging.
"My damn shoulder." The man sighed, standing in the lit doorway. Behind him a faded candlelight flooded in and emphasized his large frame. With nothing in his hands, it looked as if he'd just charged door by himself. Based on the fact he was almost as tall as the frame, it wasn't that surprising.
"Wait! I'm not L/N!" F/N put up his hands as the bulky man took imposing steps towards.
"What?" He snarled with scrunched up features and raw reddened fists.
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Cracked Glass | AOT x Male Reader
Fanfiction"You killed your own mother." Those words were engrained into his every action, every value, and every idea. In the year 845, The Fall of Shiganshina drastically changes the life for many within the walls. This however, had no impact on F/N. He, unl...
