So this is kind of a prologue to this new story.
TRIGGER WARNINGS (for this chapter): Graphic(?) torture, rape, incest, character death (murder), pedophilia, under age sex, coarse language, use of the word f****t.
If any of this bothers you, don't read.
The steady sound of a thick liquid dripping onto a stone floor, into a puddle, quickly became standard. Infuriatingly maddening, but a constant. Same as the omnipresent sensation of a slow, hot substance running down my body and the always there pain. Suddenly, breaking into the dripping sound and my harsh breaths, is a muffled but sharp door opening then slamming shut again. Flinching at the sudden loud noise, I look up from the bloody cellar floor, knowing what's in store for me and hating how I can do nothing about it. Sure enough, a belt connects with my bare back, the previous wounds and sweat intensify the stinging bite of leather lashing into flesh. I cry out, the blows harsh and unforgiving digging into my body and leaving bloody lines, bruises, and welts. My flesh still raw and sensitive from earlier strikes and beatings. Grisha's arm archs down again, the strap again finding purchase on the skin of my back, producing a scream and choked sob from my throat. It had been years but the feeling of leather ripping into my body, courtesy Grisha's seemingly inhuman strength, still hadn't, nor would it ever, dull away or become painless or void of meaning. His intentions and reasoning, though never voiced, were extremely clear. He hated me, or at the very least, didn't care whether I lived or died. Didn't care if I suffered and even went out of his way to make sure I did.
"Dammit Eren! Why the hell did you turn out so fucked up? Mikasa grew up just fine! I sure as hell didn't raise you this way! It was your fucking mother, wasn't it?" He sneers as he snaps my flesh, this time with the buckle of his belt, the thin metal piece punctures my skin and digs in, pulling out a small chunk of my body as he yanks the belt back. He drops the belt and walks a full circle around me, once before stopping behind my back. I can hear metal scraping lightly against metal, then the sound of a switchblade being flicked open. The cold steel drags along my skin, Grisha trails the flat of the blade from the side of my neck down to the back of my hips, pausing at where the waistline of my pants would be if I were wearing any. The metal is off my body only to be reintroduced to the flesh of my forearm, the sting of metal shoving into my arm causes my to scream, sob, the hot tears stream down my face, burning my cheeks as I attempt to thrash around and rid my body of the frigid sting buried within my flesh. Chains jangle and clank, my struggles only forcing the blade deeper into my body and I can feel it scrape across bone. Pleading and begging with the man who's supposed to care for me, he shows no signs of even recognizing me, showing no remorse as he lifts the blade a bit to rip it more easily through my flesh, drawing a line a few inches below my elbow, going all the way around the perimeter, slicing all the way around the appendage to the bone. Though i stop thrashing, my screams don't cease. I can't stop. The pain is gone, throbbing still present, but the sensation of my flesh being torn and sawed open was gone. He pulls back, my throat is hoarse and sore so I hang, unable to do more than gasp for breath. "You've been good today, faggot..." He trails off, unchaining my legs only to push them up, over his shoulders. There's the telling sound of a zipper and rustling of clothing, his pants and underwear drop to his mid thigh, leaving him practically half naked, his hips pressed against the back of my naked thighs. With no further warning, I felt a sharp pain as something blunt was pushed into my body. I gasp and writhe, throwing my head back as tears fill my eyes that had just managed to dry. I hear a guttural moan coming from the throat of my father, right in my ear, then the slap of skin on skin as his hips retreat then snap back against my thighs, pulling his penis almost out before thrusting it back in. This continues for a bit, him slamming his body into me painfully with groans of pleasure while I struggled to get away, but the way he had me positioned made it made it near impossible while he proceeded to do what he pleased with my body. Finally his thrusts stutter to a stop as he moans low, I feel a warm sensation coat my insides. And suddenly I'm empty, with nothing keeping his essence inside me, the vile substance slips from my violated, no longer virgin hole and runs down my legs which Grisha had let drop, leaving me hanging by only my hands. Tucking himself back into his pants, he reaches up and undoes the chain keeping me up. My body drops painfully to the floor. My hands were free. Before I can process this, or my actions, I had somehow managed to snatch up the switchblade he had used to slice my arm down to the bone. The same metal that had been embedded in my flesh was now in his, his shoulder, chest, stomach, neck, face, anywhere I could reach. Before long, he had dropped to the ground and stopped struggling. I didn't stop. I didn't stop sinking the steel into his body until I couldn't recognize his face, until the puddle of blood beneath him was as cold as the rest of the room. By then I had deteriorated into hysterical sobs, the bloodied knife dropping from my hand that wasn't paralyzed. I curl into myself, resting my head on my knees and hugging my legs to my chest. Sitting in the corner of the dark, dank room, I continue to cry until there doesn't seem to be any liquid left in my body to cry.
After a long time sitting there, I hear a deafening crack and look up at the door Grisha would come through. But the man standing in the door wasn't Grisha. He was short, deathly pale with raven black hair styled into an undercut and silvery grey eyes. His eyes roam across the filthy room with a look of distaste written across his angelic face. His gaze lands on Grisha's corpse and a look of curious surprise crossed his otherwise emotionless visage before the steely orbs continue their journey along the damned cellar until they fall on me and meet my own inquisitive stare. He makes a sound of disapproval, his tongue clicking against the roof of his mouth, before moving towards me and pulling me up almost violently. "Come on brat." His voice is rough, deep. Pleasant. Even if he was churlish, a look of guilt shows when he sees the blood still seeping from my arm and the disgusting, pink tinged cum, now almost dry, smeared on my legs paired with the tears staining my cheeks. I follow him and soon find myself outside for the first time in who knows how long. I greedily suck in fresh, clean air as a small group of people come closer. A small strawberry blonde female, a tall blond man with incredible eyebrows, a man with a large nose and long sandy blond hair, and a person with light brown hair, glasses, and an unidentifiable gender. As the brunet draws closer, I recognize a doctor's coat and I back away as quickly as possible. Everyone was talking at once and I couldn't make out any specific words, but as soon as I saw a needle, so like the ones Grisha would use to fill me with all kinds of drugs, in the presumed doctor's hand, my body froze up in fear, my mind spun. I turned and made to dash away, there were shouts and a foot connected with the back of my skull making me drop to the ground unceremoniously, incoherent, as I struggled to get up, my arm was burning again and I felt the needle shoved under my skin, its contents emptying into my bloodstream. My vision goes blurry, then black and the sounds all fade into nothingness as I feel my body pitch forward.
Alright so this is a thing. I'm not sure if I want this canonverse or a modern day fic, so let me know! If there are any mistakes, I'm reeeeally sorry, I was unable to use my laptop so I was typing on Google Docs on my sister's tablet, because in a fit of rage(I have anger issues) I threw mine and destroyed the screen. And she refused to read through this and act as my beta. That said, if anyone is interested in beta-ing for, just PM me. I would really appreciate it, my stories would have better quality, and chapters would get out faster with someone kicking me in the ass to get it done.
Now that I've said everything I deem necessary, THANK YOU for reading this, following, favoriting, and reviewing (if you did any of these), and I shall talk to y'all later!
~Satan