#Purposeless without you | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

howaboutcastiel · 1 year

Text

The Apostate (Din Djarin x f!Reader)

Word count: 2.7k

Din broke the creed. He removed the helmet and, as a result, opened himself up to possibilities he could have never conceived of before.

Content: SMUT. Cunnilingus. A little sweet dirty talk, slight reader insecurity. Premature ejaculation? Idk, it’s filthy, it’s fluffy. Read it and weep. This is not proofread and I am up past my bedtime.

Din Djarin didn’t know what to do without something to worship.

Ever since he had taken off his helmet and been cast out by his siblings of the Watch, he was aimless. Purposeless. His child was off learning how to wield the force, and now Din well and truly had no semblance of family. He was all alone. He had never felt more alone.

That is, until you came along.

It wasn’t that he’d never met you before, but he hadn’t dared entertain the thought of a life with you, nor with anyone, as his place was among Mandalorians. Seldom did a child of the watch manage to find someone on the outside willing to spend their life with a man whose face they would never see. Sometimes two children of the watch would pair up, able to understand each other, able to make that lifelong bond in spite of their own lack of identity. Even then, it was a far cry from what Din would ever consider true intimacy.

That didn’t matter now. He had broken the creed. The helmet could come off whenever he liked, in front of whomever he pleased. At first, he couldn’t make himself do it. It had been decades since he’d taken it off—it still felt so wrong. Din wasn’t comfortable going in public with his face uncovered. It felt humiliating.

He still kept it on most of the time, in front of most people, but not you. You had managed to coax the helmet off of him a few months into it, after several smaller steps had given him a boost of confidence. First, it was his gloves. He had been too scared to show you his face, to press his lips against yours or to let you run your fingers through his hair. When you’d convinced him to take off his gloves, though, and the pads of his fingers studied your lips and your jaw and your neck—when they’d felt the heat of your palms and felt your heartbeat as they pressed against your chest, he understood what he was missing. Din had never been so close to someone, and yet he felt as though he was barely there at all. Each new inch of your skin that he explored sent goosebumps through him. Gradually, he had wanted to hold you closer and closer. To touch you with different skin.

He’d gotten down to his boxers and his undershirt before he realized he’d have to bite the bullet. You had never pressured him to take off the helmet, never moved faster than he’d explicitly said. It wasn’t you that had grown so desperately impatient. It was him. Din couldn’t stand to have his view of you obstructed for one single moment longer.

You had audibly gasped when you took in the sight for the first time. His face was bright red and he couldn’t meet your eyes at first, but you drank him in all the same. Messy brown hair stuck to his face with sweat, patchy and unkempt beard framing soft lips that were slightly agape. Eyes dark as the night sky, but warm and large and twinkling. He looked peculiar and beautiful. He also looked terrified.

First, you explored his face with your hands, just as he had done with you. The pads of your fingers swept along his jaw, traced his lips, and traveled the bridge of his soft, hooked nose, all while Din scarcely breathed. He didn’t know what to make of the bewildered look glued to your face. It wasn’t until a near-delirious smile crept across your cheeks that Din realized he was okay.

He hadn’t managed to scare you off, yet, and your lips looked as soft as ever.

For hours, you switched between tenderly kissing every inch of his body and just staring in awe. He slowly grew more comfortable, kissing deeper and tugging closer and holding you tighter and tighter. Lust was not even on his mind. The only word that Din could conjure to explain how he felt for you?

Worship.

He decided then. Maybe he could take his helmet off for whomever he pleased, but he chose to reserve it for you. Only you. Well, unless Grogu crossed paths with him again. He would take off his helmet whenever you asked it of him, and leave it on for the rest of the world. He had found his new family. A family that wouldn’t abandon him. A family who wanted him for all the parts of him. A family he would give his life for. That he would die for, and that he would live for.

So, that’s how the two of you had been spending the last month. You’d managed to get up to more than kissing, both before and after he’d removed his helmet, but now it was something more than a quick, rough fuck. He was still so unused to the touch. Most days, you would have to begin by guiding him through it. Din was playing years of catch-up trying to learn how to make you feel good. All he’d ever been taught was how to fight, how to hurt. But he would never hurt you, so he ran out of ideas pretty quickly as his need to touch you only increased with each passing day.

Tonight, though, he had a thought that simply wouldn’t leave his mind. It was something he’d never tried before, something that had never been an option. He didn’t know where to start or how to ask, but he couldn’t stop thinking about it. As he made his way back to your shared quarters, having been away on a bounty hunt for several days, there was no other thought on his mind. He had to have you.

He had found a new way to worship you, and he just had to try it.

“Mesh’la,” he breathed as he came through the door. You were standing over the counter, finishing off your preparation of a nighttime meal. The latch had barely closed behind him before the helmet was tossed aside, along with his gloves. Din scooped you into his arms, pressing his lips firmly against yours. You reciprocated until the lack of air made you dizzy.

“I missed you,” you gasped against his mouth. He grinned and chuckled softly.

“I think time moves slower when you aren’t around,” he murmured, eyes still closed. “I missed you, too.”

“Are you hungry, my love?” You tilted his face toward the tabletop, where a bowl held several servings of your favorite dish. “Was just finishing up. It will be ready to eat soon, if you give me a moment.”

Din tensed his jaw. “I’m not sure I can keep my mouth off of you long enough.”

You chuckled, but the drunken look in his eye was far from humorous.

“There’s something I want to try, cyar’ika.”

You raised your eyebrows. “Now?”

He nodded. “The food can wait.”

In a swift motion, Din hooked his arm underneath you, half-guiding, half-carrying you to your bed. His mouth latched onto your neck as he lowered you down on the stiff mattress. You groaned as your back hit the covers and his grip didn’t lax.

“What is this new something?” You questioned. He didn’t lift his head to answer. Din’s lips migrated across your chest and down to the neck of your shirt. His hands inches underneath the fabric from the bottom, pushing it upward.

“I want to taste you,” he breathlessly murmured. His eyes flashed up to yours, so lidded that a wave of heat went through you from the image alone. “I need to taste you.”

He tilted you forward enough to push your shirt over your head. Din pulled himself up to your face again, this time wedging his tongue between your lips when you arched your back to meet his kiss. You tugged at the beskar plates on his shoulders.

“Are you sure?” You asked. Perhaps he wouldn’t enjoy the taste of you—perhaps he’d be repulsed, or grow impatient as he took care of your needs and not his own. Perhaps he didn’t know what he was signing up for.

“I’m certain.”

He pushed you down to lie flat. Din groaned as he made his way down your chest, kissing and mouthing and sucking purple marks on your skin. You arched into his face when he paused to take one of your nipples into his mouth. Your hand shot to his hair and the other to his back, beckoning him forward.

Din moved to unbutton your pants and a wave of anxiety shot its way up your spine. His eyes flashed up at you, dark with lust, and his mouth hung open as he pulled the fabric over your legs. You had just gotten started—you weren’t as wet as you normally were by the time you got here. Still, the thought of Din turning his nose up as your arousal hit his tongue was enough to scare you.

You clamped your legs together before he could reach for your underwear. Immediately, the mandalorian was drenched with worry. He backed away and took his hands off your skin, his eyes wide with the fear that he had somehow overstepped and hurt you.

“We don’t have to do this now,” he offered. He moved to pick your pants up off the floor, holding them out to you. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“I’m not upset,” you explained. “I’m just a little bit nervous. I don’t want you to be disappointed.”

He tilted his head at you. “Disappointed?”

“We’ve never done this before. You might think I’m disgusting.”

Din laughed, loud and offended, and scoffed at you. He moved to sit on the edge of the bed, only now taking the time to untie his boots and pull them off.

“I could never think that.” He continued by pulling off his beskar, followed by the layer of clothing right underneath. “I’ve been dying to touch you since we first met. I explored every inch of your skin with my fingers. I have learned you inside and out. And now, I want to do the same…”

He leaned over you, now in his undershirt and boxers. Din’s lips hovered over your ear, his hand tracing your jaw.

“…with my tongue.”

You shivered. An intense, full body shiver that you couldn’t even try to hide. He chuckled breathily against your ear before pulling away. There was a clear tent forming inside his boxers, but he paid no mind to it as he got to his knees.

“Is that okay?”

Din rested his hands on his thighs, waiting for your go-head.

You nodded. “Oh, God, yes.”

He closed his eyes and shuddered, as if your permission had sent him to the ends of the galaxy and he was struggling to find his way back. Din pulled on your legs until your knees hung off the edge of the bed. He hoisted your thighs on his shoulders, planting kisses upward toward your heat.

It wasn’t long before your hands made their way back to his hair. He continued to ravage your skin until you had thoroughly soaked a spot through your underwear. Din pressed a kiss on top of it, eyes screwed shut in pleasure or concentration or both. He went to hook his fingers underneath the fabric, before clicking his tongue.

“To hell with these.”

You stared down in shock as Din took the fabric of your panties in between his teeth. He bore down while pulling outward with his hand, tearing them straight through the front. You sucked in a gasp as the cool air hit your soaked core. Din continued to bite and tug until he managed to pull the underwear off of you completely. His eyes flashed with hunger and, before you had time to think, his mouth was on you.

He took the time to explore, licking a strip from your entrance to your clit and feeling the texture of each part of your cunt with his tongue. You nearly bucked into him when he stopped to suck lightly at your clit. You groaned, loud and filthy, and he leaned away to look up at you. His beard was glistening with your arousal, and he looked to be in complete bliss. A crooked, slight smile tugged at his lips.

“That feel good?” He breathed. You nodded and threw your head back. Din muttered, “not what I’d call disgusting by far, cyar’ika.”

He returned to his place and started to find a rhythm. Din’s nose nudged perfectly at the little bundle of nerves as his tongue finally dove inside of you. One of your hands gripped the sheets with all of your strength, while the other was pulling on his locks hard enough that you knew it must hurt. He only leaned in further, though, whining gruffly at the tug on his scalp. Din’s hands gripped your thighs roughly. You almost swore that he was trying to pull you closer against him—as if that was even possible.

Suddenly, his pace changed. Din’s movements grew even more frantic, more ravenous. Your soft whines threatened to turn into all-out screams, and you couldn’t help yourself but to buck into his mouth. His grip on your thighs grew stronger.

“Din, don’t stop.” You didn’t expect him to be so good at this. He was inexperienced, to say the least, and he had only been with you for a matter of months. Still, Din knew you inside and out. He knew which parts of you were sensitive. Which parts made you fall apart from the lightest of touches. Which parts made you see stars. The familiar tightness in your belly was starting to tip into that burning feeling right at the edge. You rolled your hips in time with his movements, and Din gasped and whimpered into your cunt.

It wasn’t long before you were at your peak. You couldn’t think straight, the feeling was so good, so tender and yet so strong and rough. Your climax washed over you like a tidal wave, and your thighs clamped tight around his head as you rode a particularly blinding high. All the while, Din guided you through the bliss. The flicks of his tongue continued. The slight nudges of his head, the latching of his lips onto your soaked skin. You held him there until it was almost certain that he had long run out of breath. Finally, the ecstasy started to dissipate and your limbs turned to jelly. He gasped for air, resting his chin on your thigh.

“Dank Ferrik,” he breathed.

You scoffed, chest heaving. “You’re telling me.”

Din grinned and rolled his eyes. He wiped his mouth with his hand before lifting off of his knees and swooping into another kiss. It was much lighter and sweeter than the movements he’d made on your pussy. You didn’t even care that you could taste yourself on his tongue.

“Thank you,” he breathed when he pulled away. He rested his forehead against yours.

“I should be saying that to you.” You raked your nails lightly up his back. You moved to pull his hips down onto yours, trying to grind up into him. “Let’s take care of you, now.”

Din held his hips away from yours. You opened your eyes to see him blushing deeply. He bit the inside of his cheek.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” he smiled sheepishly. “It’s just… you don’t have to worry about that.”

You rolled with him onto your side, and peered down to see the wet spot in his boxers. He blushed even deeper, his whole face and neck beet red. Heat flooded you, as well, at the sight. At the thought of him enjoying himself so much.

“It was that good, huh?”

He leaned into your chest.

“Mesh’la… I couldn’t have imagined anything better. I thought the idea was stuck in my head before, but I’m not going to stop thinking about it for days.”

Din’s body was slack against yours. You wrapped your arms around him. Sleep tugged at your eyes, but so did hunger at your belly. You felt him grin against you as your stomach made a dramatic growl.

“Should I finish making dinner now?”

#din djarin #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian #mando #mandalorian #mando x reader #pedro pascal #pedrohub #masterlist

827 notes · View notes

anglingforlevels · 8 months

Text

Nature's Losers (Yandere Anglerfish x Reader)

CW: body horror, violence, non-graphic death depiction, reader is kinda useless in this, swearing. stalking and general creepiness, monsterfuckery, bad writing, dead dove.

Minors DNI

In nature, there’s winners and losers. Although enthusiastic biology professors throughout your school years had argued that, by virtue of surviving and continuing to survive and reproduce, there weren’t any losers among the living.

Late-night nature programs made it hard to agree, when they featured hapless creatures like the male anglerfish, doomed to fumble through the darkness through smell to find an elusive mate with the only end goal of holding onto the mate they found, ultimately, dying a parasite. Nature certainly picks losers, or so you had thought back then.

You hadn’t spared much thought for the female anglerfish in your assessment, it just seemed obvious that the loser in the equation was the male.

That day too, the day you met it.

It was a simple day by the oceanside, you were trying to enjoy a warm summer day through an increasingly harsh breeze, emphasize on trying, as the breeze seemed determined to outgrow its label of breeze to become a gust of wind, an achievement of personal growth that you were not in support of.

That’s when you spotted him. By the rocky hillside, where the rowdy waves crashed against rocks out amidst the water, before growing still and reaching its end by the hillside, but not without having splashed said hillside wet in the process. A small figure laid, collapsed, among the rocky land.

“Is that a child?!”

Panicked, you rushed out there, navigating between slippery rocks and wet sand. Your outfit clinging to your legs, which you ignored in your pursuit to reach the collapsed child. Getting closer, it didn’t seem to be a child at all.

Though, he was small. He seemed barely big enough to go to your armpit, even as his figure was fully splayed out. But he didn’t seem particularly young, or even youthful. He didn’t seem old or mature either. He just seemed odd. He felt undefined, like something that hadn’t been developed or fully rendered, with colors washed out.

Stepping closer, your heart rate spiked as you noticed the way his skin seemed too pale and paper-thin, he almost felt transparent, so much so that it felt as if a lazy sunbeam would reveal shadows of bones encased in flesh. Christ, had you found a corpse? He didn’t look bloated like a drowned corpse ordinarily would, quite the opposite but still, was this really a living person?

With his brittle and scrawny figure laid out, bruised and still upon the rocks, it really felt as if you were watching a shattered doll carefully positioned. You swallowed.

“Hey, uh, are you- are you okay?”

At this, he opened up his eyes, revealing one key characteristic of note. Big, milky-white, and slightly bulging eyes. You startled a little at the sudden intensity as he fixed you with a relentless stare, for how lifeless the rest of him had seemed, it appeared as if all life in him had been dedicated to those eyes, and yet their dedicated stare felt purposeless, as if it he saw nothing.

You quickly snapped out of it, instead shifting to relief at the fact he wasn’t dead.

“Hey, what happened?” You asked, but he simply continued staring at you, not even shifting his head, instead following your movements with his eyes exclusively. You cleared your throat before trying again with a gentler tone. “Hey, it’s okay. Can you tell me who are you?”

He repeatedly opened and closed his mouth slightly, and while you weren’t sure what that really meant – and you were increasingly unsettled by the lack of blinking – you decided to brush the growing discomfort aside. Really, given his situation, acting a little unsettling didn’t seem too unreasonable, the guy was probably in shock, so you took the fact he reacted at all, as a good sign.

You laid a hand on his shoulder, hoping it might offer some comfort, but almost retracted it per reflex at his cold, clammy skin.

“Goodness, you’re freezing.” You were about to take off your cardigan for some kind of cover, when you realized that your clothes was, of course, soaking wet and clinging to you, from the climb here. So, instead you held him, hoping your body warmth could provide anything, as you frantically fumbled with your phone to call for an ambulance. Honestly, with a temperature like this, you were surprised he wasn’t a corpse yet.

He burrowed further into your embrace, his head resting in the crook of your neck, as if desperate to get closer than what the laws of physics allowed. His breathing grew heavier, and his teeth accidentally scratched you in what you assumed was clumsily expressed distress, you couldn’t tell if the drips you felt was tears or simply ocean water. You tried to soothe him by rubbing his back as your call got through.

Sitting like this, more than anything, you had felt that nature really did pick losers, a pitiful truth.

You weren’t sure how long it took before the ambulance arrived, but the chill of his body felt as if it had seeped through you, zapping out most of your own warmth, and you were now shivering yourself as well. You were planning on going home for a warmth bath and then going to bed, since you had work in the morning, and your boss weren’t exactly lenient, so even with your spare time being spent like this, you hoped to at least be well-rested physically.

But when they tried to usher him off you to cover him in a blanket, he clung desperately onto you, nails digging into your skin. Your heart ached for him, it really did, you were sure he were feeling disorientated and scared, but it was best to leave this kind of thing in the hands of professionals, and, while you felt like a jerk for it, you still had to think about yourself and your depressingly early shift tomorrow morning, a shift you’d only survive through with the company of your friend and coworker Julia, and the upcoming weekend off.

Prying him off you was easy. Even his desperate, fumbling grasp around you didn’t amount to being much more than feathery, with even gentle prying leaving him stumbling a bit from the force. It was hard to tell if it was due to his sickly state or just general, physical weakness.

You did really hope the best for him.

“Hm?”

On your way home, as you separated from the crowd after a good ten minutes of walking, you took notice of steps behind you that echoed out with a loud, inelegant thud, thud, thud. You turned around and furrowed your brows in perplexation. The sickly complexion and the stare was undeniable – it was him.

Walking with clumsy steps, he moved forward with the blank, staring expression he had donned when you first found him as well, a poorly wrapped blanket still around him but gliding off as he continued to move forth slowly but resolutely, paying it no mind.

“Did you… Follow me?”

All the way from the oceanside? Your hands felt clammy at the thought of him following you between the crowds and many corners – it couldn’t be an accident, and in the first place, he was supposed to have been in a hospital by now, or at the very least, still inside the ambulance.

He didn’t answer, though you hadn’t expected him to, he just kept moving closer and closer. Perhaps it was his empty stare and clumsy movements, but it felt as if he moved with one singular purpose, not as in he was driven, but rather, he lacked any other intentions behind his movement than his goal.

Something deep within you seemed to come undone at that, an unsettling feeling grasping hold of you. You didn’t think he was able of hurting you, really, you were surprised he could even stand, yet goosebumps littered your skin, there was just something wrong about him.

He can’t do anything to you, it’s okay. It’s fine. You reminded yourself through a shaky breath. That’s right, you bested him physically, so, you ran. With the speed he was at right now, you could surely manage to lose him, and then that would be that.

You’d avoid this area for a while, it wasn’t like you came here a lot anyway, and that would be the last of this. It felt more like you were pleading with yourself rather than stating a fact, and you hated that sense of irrationality, after all, that was all it was.

This was creepy but not dangerous, you were sure, you had to be sure. So, you ran. You ran and didn’t stop. Not until your lungs and sides burned, and you stood before your apartment complex. Looking around, he was nowhere to be seen. Even after entering the building, which only residents could enter, and your dingy apartment, you didn’t see him from your small window.

The warm bath helped calm your nerves a bit and you went to bed, to face a new day, one devoid of him.

“Okay, so you think he went Wolverine on the door. Wasn’t he like, super weak?” Julia asked, as she unloaded the cargo of the day, prompting a sigh from you.

This morning, when you had woken up and left for the bus, you had noticed scratches on the door to the building, and had had a sinking feeling, but you hadn’t seen anything of him or any other sign of him. you had confided in Julia about the experience, though Julia seemed skeptical about whether the scratches even made up a sign about him having managed to find your apartment to begin with.

“I don’t know, I know it sounds stupid, but seriously, he just kept following me.” You reiterated this for what must have been the thousandth time, and judging by Julia’s expression, that estimate couldn’t be far off.

“Have you considered calling the police about stalking?”

“Well, it’s not like he’s done anything, or that I know he’s stalking me. It’s not like I saw him by my apartment to begin with.”

And stalking didn’t feel like the right word. It felt more like you were being pursued. Less thought-out and hidden, instead he seemed to be following the most direct path he could perceive towards you in the most literal way possible, and while it should feel less threatening and invasive, the simplicity and literalness of his behavior didn’t do much in the way of comfort.

Most of all, you didn’t feel like it warranted a call to the police, especially with a pursuer this ineffective at pursuit. Not when you had heard stories of others reporting stalking, cases much worse and more explicit, yet getting dismissed, you were sure your case would get you laughed out of the station.

And then, a bump took them out of the conversation, and your heart dropped. At the door, he stood. Fumbling around, lightly bumping into the door in attempts to open it or bypass it. “No fucking way.”

Julia glanced at the small, scrappy guy clumsily failing to open a door, with a raised eyebrow. “And this is the guy that’s got you all worried? I mean, freaked out I get, but…”

But I doubt he could do much, even if he tried.

You looked away, frowning. Julia took notice and sighed, putting a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Hey, I’m sorry, are you okay?”

It felt unfair, but somehow you almost felt worse from her words. Julia had always lived by the idea that, even if something wasn’t necessarily real, it still felt real to the person who was upset. But you knew that this was real, this pit in your stomach, it wasn’t for nothing, it wasn’t just nerves, you just couldn’t… explain it.

Julia understood it was terrifying to see someone possibly following you, and even though the store was public, she understood it being scary to see him here all of a sudden, without knowing if it was a coincident or on purpose, but for you, it was more than that, but you couldn’t put it into words. You didn’t understand it. The frustrating acid of “it’s real for you” poisoned Julia’s good intentions, but you swallowed the bitterness, and smiled a forced smile.

“Don’t worry about it, it’s… it’s fine.”

Julia shook her head. “It’s not. You don’t feel safe, and that’s not okay. Listen, we’ll be going on our weekend camping trip tomorrow, and there’s no way that the guy who can’t figure out doors, can find you out there, so… Stay at my place tonight, then we’ll go camping, and we’ll figure this out, alright?”

She squeezed your shoulder reassuringly, and you felt a pang of guilt. God, you were such an asshole. You nodded, but your eyes were still fixed on him, luckily no one had gone through the door, thus giving him access, because you needed this job, you couldn’t afford any more late rent and your boss was an asshole, so bailing wasn’t an option but if he got into the store, you’d… Fuck, you wished you could barricade the doors.

Then suddenly he stopped his fruitless attempts, maybe even he had a limit wherein he recognized something to be futile. His vacant eyes shot up and stared directly at you. And he simply stood like that, absentmindedly clenching his jaw as if chewing. Your heart pounded against your chest, it felt almost painful as if you felt an actual recoil from its force, but you couldn’t focus on that when the world seemed to blur together around you, leaving only his eyes, pooling in all light despite their own pale shine.

Julia glanced at you, worry barely hidden on her face, before clapping her hands resolutely. “That’s it – By now, even our boss will accept us having called the cops on this guy for being a public nuisance. Or, if nothing else, he’ll agree that the guy is definitely scaring customers away, what with the blocking of the door and general creepiness.” Julia said, though you suspected she’d be scolded for it regardless, and you knew that she knew that too.

He had begun to lean against the door. Man, you couldn’t wait for camping trip…

Even when time seems to stand still, eventually it caves in, making way for the approaching future, settling into the current present, which was, unfortunately, you sweating profusely as you fought to set up a tent, but even the frustrating battle of tents could not deter your relief and joy at finally having arrived at the weekend, and more importantly, the camping trip.

“I don’t think it’s supposed to bend that way.” Julia commented. You rolled your eyes at it.

“A lot of words coming from the person not helping me set it up.”

“Hey, you oh so cruelly banished me from helping, remember?”

“You’re just not that good at it.”

“Right, because this is the pinnacle of putting up tents. I salute your hard work.”

Julia’s unhelpful commentary aside, you were almost done, you just needed to focus. As if that was a cue, your focus was shattered by something rushing through a bush, and instinctively let go of the tent, as you tensed up.

And then a rabbit jumped out, making its escape from the loud sound of tent gear clattering. The world felt woozy for a moment as you collected yourself, breathlessly laughing. The tension still lingered in the air, but Julia made quick work of it.

“I gotta say, I think I’m a little better at putting up tents than that.” She said, gesturing to the pile of now fully undone work. The tension dissolved and the nervous laughter turned sincere. Julia was, benevolently, allowed to assist with setting up the tent – to her great dismay – and you laughed and talked together as you set up camp.

After a job well-done, you both felt a meal was in order, so Julia found the ingredients as you collected firewood while the sun was still out. With your arms full of twigs, your attention suddenly snapped to a bush, at the sound of the leaves being rustled quite harshly. No doubt by a particularly ungraceful critter, hopefully one as cute as the rabbit.

You were about to laugh and comment on how they must be a magnet for forest animals when a small but very humanoid figure stepped forth instead.

Your blood seemed to freeze.

It wasn’t like it was impossible to follow them. With the smarts and know-how, one could find out where they were camping. And then, it was just as simple as taking an uber. Or you could simply trail Julia’s car here.

Except, the torn clothes. The scarred and bruised skin. The ruffled, dirtied look. He had not gotten here by car.

“Fucking hell.” Julia’s whispered words said it all, fucking hell was right.

You stood frozen. Unable to tear yourself from his stare. He opened his mouth-

“Let’s go!”

It was first when Julia’s frenzied voice called out, and pulled your arm, that you began to move. Absentmindedly, you took notice of his bloody, jagged nails. It took a moment before the adrenaline kicked in, and you stopped being dragged rather than running yourself.

The car, they just had to get to the car and leave. Recoup, figure something out, cool their heads, just, they needed to get away. You practically flung the door open when the two of you reached the old car. Neither of you bothered with seatbelt before starting the car.

But all it did was cough sadly.

“Huh? It can’t have run out of gas.” Julia looked bewildered, trying to start it again, only for it not to turn on at all. “Oh – Oh. You have got to be kidding me”

“Care to clue me in?” Your voice cracked slightly, and Julia glanced at you, before composing herself, and trying to smile reassuringly, though her smile wavered.

“Well, it’s just, the battery. It’s dead. But” she hurriedly added, seeing the way your face fell at her words, “I have an extra one. Since we were going on a trip away from any kind of mechanic.”

“Right… But we didn’t park that far from the camp.” He’ll reach us before.

Julia nodded seriously. “That’s why, we’ll run. We’ll circle around, since he’s following you, if we get him far enough away, we can probably give ourselves enough time. We’ll run straightforward till we reach the cliffs, and then back.”

You didn’t like that idea very much, willingly letting yourself be chased and running around in the forest when dusk was approaching, neither felt appealing. But they didn’t have a lot of options.

“Since I’m the one he’s following, why don’t I do that while you change the battery?”

“And leave you to run around alone with a freak after you? No way. ‘sides, I wouldn’t freeze up in a fight.” Julia said, her smile no longer wavering. You weren’t sure if there was enough words to fully show your appreciation for Julia, warmth pooling in your stomach, despite everything, it felt a little more okay with Julia by your side.

So, the two of you got out of the car, and waited anxiously for the sound of him approaching. Neither of you had talked about how he had gotten here, or known where to find you, perhaps none of you wanted to breach the topic.

Finally, you heard footsteps. And you sprinted. Then after a while, you’d wait for him to get closer. Then sprint again. On repeat. The darkness was rapidly increasing, forcing you to lower your speed, lest you injure yourself, and with the night animals awakening, it was both harder to hear and see him approaching.

“Just a little more, alright?” Julia said, between heavy breaths. The small sound of bells from her necklace and the way she held your hand, was a comforting reminder of her presence, amidst the darkness of the forest, each dancing shadow and crunching leaf reminding you that, hidden somewhere, was he. “Waves, listen, thank god, waves.”

Just as Julia had said, when you strained your ears, you heard the waves crashing into the cliffside. On burning, wobbly legs, you reached your destination, the trees giving way for the cliff edge.

“We probably don’t need to wait for him to be within hearable range, this time. Let’s just make our way ba-“

Crack.

Out he stepped. Only meters away. He lifted his hand up, as if reaching out to you already. You needed to move but only your beating heart seemed to get the memo. Then Julia flashed by, lunging at him.

Watching them both fall to the ground; it was a reminder. No matter how creepy he was, no matter how relentless – he was basically a stack of cards waiting to be knocked down by the wind. But you couldn’t help but feel like there were something more to it, a danger lurking within him.

Even as he was wrestled to the ground, his eyes stayed on you.

“Ouch!” Julia yelped, accidentally letting go of him, clutching her hand. “He bit me. it’s- it’s fine.”

You had seen the red liquid running between her fingers, even though she tried to hide it. It wasn’t fine. He, in the moment of being released, got up and returned to his goal of reaching you. Julia grabbed onto his ankle, forcing him down once more. You noticed that she used only one hand, the other curled up against her chest still.

He kicked his legs while continuing to attempt to crawl closer, somehow not paying attention to Julia beyond “hindered movements”, he seemed to just keep going despite his severe weakness. His kicks were weak but even so, a kick to the face was still unpleasant, enough so that he managed to squirm out of her hold to stand up.

But the sight of Julia’s pained expression, her hand bleeding profusely – you felt angry. Far angrier than the fear that gnawed at your core. Your hand searched for something, landing on a branch, and you jumped forth, hitting him.

You hadn’t expected him to be this frail and light, that it would practically send him flying, edging closer to the edge of the cliff. He stumbled around, the stones beneath his feet too loose for him to regain balance. He grasped blindly out for something to support him, as his body threatened to take a plunge down the cliffside.

His hand reached Julia’s necklace, as she was still laid on the ground. Before she could swat his hands away or do anything – a force stronger than either of us overpowered them, gravity pulling them downwards.

Your heart sank but even moving as fast as you could, you couldn’t reach Julia in time, her strangled scream cut off by the pull of her necklace must have been cutting off her airway before the unruly water ever got a chance.

“Julia!”

It was a long fall, directly into deep water, with jagged cliffs, even so, Julia had to… she had to be… She’d be alright. She just had to be. Frantically, ignoring the growing darkness and your own exhaustion, you ran. You had to get down there, to search for Julia.

You ignored the way your legs and lungs burnt, the way you only managed shallow breaths – you needed to find Julia, to see that she was okay. You don’t know how long it took until you got down to the bottom of the cliffside, but only the bright moon served as any light by now.

Your heart sank further as you stood at the edge of the water. How were you supposed to get over there, it was so far away, it would take you an hour to swim over there when well-rested – more importantly, how was Julia supposed to ever make it back here? With an injured hand to boot.

You ran out anyway, water going up to your ribs, as you desperately called out her name. It was futile, perhaps, but you just couldn’t accept it. If you called and looked, maybe you’d find her, maybe she had managed to get closer. Even though it was an impossible hope, you continued to search.

Each stray touch of seaweed wrapping around your legs made both dread and hope to shoot up in you, only for the same hope to crash into despair once more, that it wasn’t Julia, it wasn’t her. You spent so long out there in the darkness before you finally dragged yourself back to land, and only because the already unruly water had gotten worse, threatening to pull you down, and you knew, if it knocked you down, you wouldn’t be able to get back up, not as you were now.

You sat down on the sand, with legs numb from exhaustion and the cold, and just stared into the water. If you hadn’t used that branch, then Julia would… Julia would still… Exhaustion and grief made both your mind and body feel so incredibly heavy.

Then you heard it. Something else walking out of the water, and the small metallic clang of bells. Your head shot up. “Julia?” you voice couldn’t manage more than hoarse whisper at this point. But out of the water wasn’t Julia, of course, how could it be. It would be impossible to survive falling into such deep water, even if you hadn’t hit any of the sharp edges of the cliff.

That’s why, stone-cold dread turned into lead in your stomach at the sight. From the water emerged a small, soaked figure. It was him, no, it, because no human could have survived this long underwater. It was walking with the same expression as always, eyes finding and locking onto you, and it walked, with the same stumbling ease as always. And around his fingers and hand, Julia’s necklace was entangled, the bells clinging.

Whatever this was, it wasn’t human. Whatever this was, it had dragged Julia down with it.

You had to run, even though the world was spinning from dizziness and exhaustion, you had to run. Even standing up again was a struggle. On numb legs you clumsily ran. Even putting your all into it, you and it was evenly matched in speed now.

It got closer. Each step is accompanied by wet drips and clinging bells.

Drip, drip, cling, cling.

You couldn’t see the ground before you. You had run into the forest, you needed to get to the car or civilization, or anything. The trees kept out most of the moons light.

Drip, drip, cling, cling.

Branches and bushes caught onto hair and clothes. Leaving stinging nicks on your skin. No matter, continue, run, run, run.

Drip, drip, cling, cling.

What way was the car? How had you gotten down here to begin with? Not this way, that’s for sure. Just continue forward, no time to think.

Drip, drip, cling, cling.

You felt a pull, your foot getting caught by a root. Falling to the ground, dirt and stones stuck to you. You needed to untangle yourself.

Drip, drip, cling, cling.

Oh god, you needed to get free and get back up. You couldn’t see the root, so fumbling blindly in the dark, you tried to pull, pull, pull.

Drip, drip, cling, cling.

Cold, clammy hands touched you. Slowly look up from the root, it had crouched down before you. It’s eyes were the only source of light in the darkness of the forest, and you were almost mesmerized. Despite you being the only one out of breath, your jagged breaths were matched by it.

It leaned closer and you realized, the deep breaths – it was sniffing you.

It curled up against your stomach, as if settling to sleep. Was this the goal? It had gotten to you, was this it? Lie together like your first meeting? And then, searing pain shot through the exhaustion. It bit you, teeth tearing through flesh and holding on.

You felt light-headed and nauseous from the pain, or maybe the exhaustion? You couldn’t tell, growing disorientated, unable to focus on anything but the pain, so as the corners of your eyes darkened, you gave in to the numb darkness. As you fell unconscious, you thought you heard bells once more.

Your head hurts… That was the first sensation you noticed when you awoke.

It felt as if it was being split in two, a searing fire burning away any sense of emergence and thought, leaving you in hazy pain. Then again, your entire body felt heavy and warm in a drowsy and exhausting type of misery.

It took a moment to connect the sudden pain with anything, blinking yourself back into consciousness. You had been in cold water, maybe it was the flu? But it felt different, your head felt full but more than that, your body was too. There was a foreign sense of fullness, amid the dull, throbbing aches throughout her body, like something burrowing in between the fiery heat.

It was like a steady flow throughout your body, of something cold amidst the warmth. It felt wrong. That’s when you had half a mind to notice the most soaring pain of all was perhaps related to the weight of a very real thing, a very real presence.

On top of you, he… no, it laid, resting its head on your stomach, where it had bit you. God, it had bitten you, maybe it was an infection, no, that didn’t matter, not now.

Off, off, needed it off you.

Though the world spun around you, as dizziness clouded your mind from the simple act of lifting your arm, you managed to place your hands, your awfully clammy hands, on it, and push.

It didn’t budge, rather, the action seemed to hurt you. Like something attempting to tear your flesh off, oh god, was it still biting you? Was that why the pain felt so searing still? As your attempts to push it grew more frantic, it remained unmoved by it.

“Why, why, why the fuck won’t you- god,” tears prickled at the corner of your eyes, and the sensation seemed to bring you further into reality, the pain growing more and more real, and while you somehow had not been crying before, tears turned into full-out sobs and screams.

“You’re so weak, just, god why, why can’t I- off, off, off! I need you to-“ get off me. It had been so weak before, easily pushed and shoved. Then why, why couldn’t you make it budge now, each attempt hurting you further, at some point, you were convinced you heard the sound of flesh tearing, but you weren’t in your right mind to stop hopelessly trying through brute force.

As the pain became too much, the fight ebbed out of you, replaced by exhausted agony, moving already felt so hard, when you felt icy fire alongside the burning inside, and your skin felt… tight, as if it was housing more than it could, something prodding and poking uncomfortably at your own skin.

Had it not been because you could so clearly see the creature, you’d have frantically checked your clothes, at the feeling of intrusion, even if said intrusion seemed to be everywhere within you, all at the same time. As your fighting died out, replaced by breathless sobs, it lifted its head ever so slightly, its milky eyes finding yours, somehow, they didn’t look quite as empty now. You could have sworn the look in its eyes was joyful.

You broke eye contact because (it’s unbearable), because… Right, biting, was he still biting you? You stared blankly for a moment when you finally looked further down. You blinked. Once, twice, thrice. No, no, no, no. You hadn’t woken up yet. That’s it, this wasn’t real. Oh god, no, no, no. You blinked again, four times, five times, six times.

But the sight before you remained the same.

His lower face seemed as if melted, seeping into your skin. You couldn’t tell where his skin ended and yours began, as his face stretched out awkwardly, like melted wax, only the top retaining a semblance to his earlier appearance, though the skin around his eyes felt awfully loose, as if dragged down by the weight of… You? This?

Its nails dug into your skin, drawing blood, as its arms encircled you, and it nuzzled closer as if this proximity still wasn’t enough; more skin breaking loose and absolving before your eyes, as if watching a melting clay figure, the skin burning as it melted into yours.

Nature really did pick losers.

#yandere #yandere x reader #tw monsterfucking #yandere monster #tw body horror #tw death #not proofread #bad writing #dead dove do not eat #minors dni

360 notes · View notes

aphroditelovesu · 8 months

Note

Hello! If your love letter are still open, can I request romantic yandere Percy with the prompts with 3, 4, 12, and 26 please? If that’s too much you can pick which ever you want to do! Thank you! Have a good day/morning/night!

Prompt [3]; "Don't worry, I know what's best for both of us. I'll take care of everything."

Prompt [4]; "You are the only reason my life makes sense. Without you, everything would be empty and without and purposeless.''

Prompt [12]; "Don't worry about those friends of yours and your family. They'll only hurt you. I'm the only person you need."

Prompt [26]; "I would do anything to see you smile, even if it means eliminating everything that makes you unhappy."

My (Y/N),

Since I have met you, I knew you were the one for me. With each passing day, my love for you grows deeper and more intense. I write these words filled with a deep love that transcends all borders, a love that, somehow, seems beyond our reach, but that I cannot help but feel.

I promise to protect you from all dangers that may arise, like an unbreakable shield, and to always be by your side. I would do anything, absolutely anything, to make sure you are safe and happy. You shouldn't worry about anything, to any dangers when I'm with you.

Don't worry, I know what's best for both of us. I'll take care of everything. And the best for you is to stay with me.

You are the only reason my life makes sense. Without you, everything would be empty and without and purposeless. Every moment I spend away from you is an eternity of torture, but when I'm close, my heart is filled with joy and happiness. Is this love?

You became the light of my world, the only reason for my existence. I indeed see the world around us with different eyes now, love. I can't help but feel like the people around you, your friends and her family, will only hurt you. They don't understand the depth of our love, of our connection. Only I can protect you, only I understand how precious you are. But don't worry about those friends of yours and your family. They'll only hurt you. I'm the only person you need, can't you see that?

I love you so much that Aphrodite would be proud.

I would do anything to see you smile, even if it means eliminating everything that makes you unhappy. Every obstacle that stands in our way, every shadow that threatens to darken your happiness, I would face with determination, because you are the light that guides my path.

Understand, my love, that this desire to protect you at all costs does not come from a place of control, but rather from an overwhelming passion that consumes me. I want to be the reason your life is filled with joy and love, and I'm willing to go all the way to ensure that.

I promise, with all my heart, to be your shield against the world, eliminating anything that could sadden you.

With all my love,

Percy.

#yandere love letter #love letter #yandere percy jackson #yandere pjo #yandere percy jackson x reader #yandere percy jackson love letter #percy jackson x reader #pjo

216 notes · View notes

cissa-calls · 20 days

Text

Countdown to Agatha: Day 760

Y/N: “Señor Scratchy, he, he, he- SCRATCHED ME!” *shows their palm with a few slashes*

Wanda: “Those are decently deep - we need to clean it now and reduce the risk of infection”

Y/N: “Agatha, I thought you said you clipped his nails!”

Agatha: “I thought about it, but then I thought about what all the other demonic entities would say! What’s an eldritch being without its claws? I cannot in good conscience subject my son to such purposeless ridicule.

Y/N: “He clawed me and tried to bite me!”

Agatha: “Aww dang, did he miss? We’ve been trying to improve his bite accuracy.”

Y/N: “YOU’RE ENCOURAGING IT?!”

Agatha: “On every level - including physical - Señor Scratchy deserves to be the worlds first attack rabbit.”

Wanda: “But that implies he’s a rabbit and not…” *glances to Señor Scratchy hunched over his bowl eating a piece of mystery meat* “…whatever that is.”

81 notes · View notes

identifying-cars-in-posts · 8 months

Note

if you had to strike one car/maufacturer (except tesla that's a given) off the face of the planet what would it be

are we talking from now on or also retroactively? if we’re talkin just like kill off a company now without losing everything they’ve ever made, i would say maybe mitsubishi. they’re on their last legs anyway, it would be kind of a mercy killing given what they’ve become. the outlander isn’t awful but if it ceased to be it’s a niche with plenty of better options. i do adore their older models though, love the first couple gens of eclipse and i straight up screamed when i saw an imported jdm lancer evo on the road recently

if we’re going retroactive too, as much as i hate to i think i’d say fiat. their cars now are built terribly and they’re driving chrysler and jeep into the ground. i love their older cars and it would suck to potentially lose abarth, but i think basically every car they’ve ever made has a competitor that’s just as good. it would be tragic to lose the original topolino though

if we’re doing just a single car model though? ford edge. absolutely purposeless suv that i had the displeasure of driving recently. i’m sorry to any ford edge drivers who might follow me but i hated that thing and have never understood why anyone other than rental car companies bought it over a ford escape or other competitor smaller suv

#not a car id #asks #hi-im-kaybee

175 notes · View notes

yujo-nishimura · 6 months

Text

The Escape - Working title

Warning: A little bit of angst and sadness, female reader, One Piece based storyline mixed with my own weird creativity. This will be my personal Nanowrimo project I want to share with all of you. Hope you can enjoy reading as much as I enjoy writing.

Content notes: Small buggy turning into big Buggy later during the story, love, romance, female reader who will experience a strong character development, SFW for now, might add NSFW later.

Word count: 778

You had felt tired and hopeless for a while now. The once captivating sunsets had lost their enchanting glow, and the islands you encountered appeared indistinguishable from one another, as if you were trapped in a recurring loop. Nobody in the crew had realized how you felt, but there was no one to talk to anyway - everyone had their own dreams and goals, their hopes and their desires.

Surrounded by individuals brimming with enthusiasm, their eyes shining with purpose and ambitions, you couldn't help but feel a sense of emptiness within yourself. Unlike those driven pirates who embarked on their journeys to fulfill their dreams, you found yourself adrift without any grand aspirations to chase. Gold? Fame? Wealth? Power? Nothing seemed appealing to you.

One day, under the silvery glow of a full moon, a decision took hold within you. The ship belonging to the Snowland pirates, to which you had reluctantly become a part, had worn on your patience for far too long. The crew showed little interest in forging genuine connections, the laborious tasks assigned to you felt utterly purposeless. It had become abundantly clear that this was not where you belonged.

You had stumbled upon this crew while seeking refuge on the wintry shores of the island called Klaki, your own vessel in need of repair. The charismatic captain of the Snowland pirates had enticed you with promises of camaraderie and acceptance, and initially, you had felt a glimmer of hope as you seamlessly integrated into their ranks. But as the weeks turned into months, the allure had faded into disillusionment.

Now, a full year had passed, and the once captivating glamour had completely faded away. All you desired was to escape this stifling environment as swiftly as possible. You untied one of the smaller lifeboats while everyone was asleep after a full night of partying and alcohol - you chose to escape during full moon, knowing the danger of the light giving away your escape. But it was seldom that everyone was so drunk that they wouldn't realize a missing crew member. You had packed your bag and took a deep breath as you finally started rowing into the night and into freedom and liberation.

As consciousness returned, you were greeted by an overwhelming sensation of thirst. Your dry throat pleaded for relief, while a throbbing ache pulsed through your head. The wet fabric of your clothes clung stubbornly to your skin, as if fused together, and even your hair felt matted and sticky. The scorching rays of the sun beat down upon your scalp, intensifying the discomfort.

Blinking repeatedly, you struggled to focus your weary eyes, attempting to find out about your surroundings and piece together the events that had led you to this disorienting state. Your boat is gone. So was your bag and your shoes. You were laying on the shore, with your face and your belly in the sand, the pain from your head reaching down to your arms and legs. The realization washed over you like a crashing wave - you had become the aftermath of a shipwreck.

"What is this?"

"Rather - who is this? I can clearly see she is a girl and not a thing!"

"Maybe she is a pirate. Then she is dangerous and we should not touch her!"

"Hahaha! I am a pirate myself, dear friend, I do not fear anybody, especially not a small hurt girl like her."

"Is she maybe.. dead?"

With all your might you force yourself to look up, ignoring the pain in your neck, trying to figure out who the voices belong to, which seem to talk about you and your desolated condition.

As your gaze lifted, you beheld the peculiar sight of two small, otherworldly creatures. One stood before you—a man with disproportionately short arms and legs. His moss-green hair framed a face adorned with dark eyes and a beard. Strangely, his body seemed to meld seamlessly with a wooden treasure box. He had no torso, but was stuck in a box.

Beside the moss-haired man, another diminutive figure emerged—a clown who appeared similarly downsized, with short arms and feet attached directly to his neck. Adorned with a hat unmistakably bearing the emblem of the notorious Buggy pirates, this peculiar duo stood before you, their appearances both strange and comical.

The moss-haired man offered a warm smile, his eyes twinkling with an unspoken understanding. Meanwhile, the clown dwarf took a tentative step closer, his eyes reflecting a mix of caution and intrigue.

"Are you dead?" the box man asked.

"I wish I was!" you moan and let your head fall back into the warm sand.

#one piece #buggytheclown #one piece buggy #buggy the clown x reader #buggy x reader #buggy x you #nanowrimo #short story #onepiece anime #creative writing #fanfic

112 notes · View notes

himalayaan-flowers · 8 months

Text

@ religious people who think that reading their religious text has all the answers on how to live - what are you meant to do when you have crippling ocd and cannot even read a sentence without 10000 intrusive thoughts about somehow committing unforgivable sins and going to hell to the point reading the text becomes impossible?? same goes for praying, meditation etc (and medication does not help enough. finding a religious therapist involves knowing which religion you believe in in the first place)

and atheists how do you function without ever knowing for sure if what you're doing is right or good enough without any objective rules and believing so much suffering in the world is completely purposeless

#genuine question #but i don't think anyone knows the answer :(#christianity #islam #ocd #scrupulosity #religious ocd #moral ocd #religion #hinduism #buddhism #judaism

163 notes · View notes

em-dash-press · 1 year

Text

How to Write a Character’s Death Effectively

It’s a strange thing to think about—writing a death effectively. You could come up with endless ways for a character to die and they’d all accomplish the same goal of removing them from the story.

However, deaths always have meaning in fiction. The ones that make it to print are the deaths that are written well.

Here are a few things to avoid and a few others to strive for when writing a death scene.

Things You Consider When a Character Dies

1. Who Is Essential to Your Story?

Think about which characters are essential to completing your plot/theme. If someone isn’t essential, their death won’t be as meaningful to the reader or as purposeful to your plot.

This isn’t to say you can only kill protagonists and your most important secondary characters. But if you only have one death in your book or short story and it has little to no effect on the plot, that character might better serve the purpose of your story by living.

You should also consider who is integral to a character’s future development if you’re writing an ongoing series. The protagonist may have a best friend in Book 1, but by the end of the book, they go their own ways. Books 2 and 3 don’t feature the best friend, so if they die in Book 1 and your projected plot developments don’t change, their death isn’t essential

2. What Is the Reason for the Death?

Real life deaths don’t always have a reason, but the vast majority of fictional deaths do. Unless you’re writing about a theme specifically involving a purposeless death (maybe to write about grief or another way a character handles what happens afterward), each death should have a meaning.

Reasons for Deaths in Fiction

Bitter irony (example: a character who fears driving dying in a car crash)

Bringing the character’s story back to close foreshadowing threads (example: a character gets introduced into the plot by defending someone getting robbed, then they die in a robbery gone wrong)

Betrayal (example: a character’s best friend betraying them in a way that leads to their direct/indirect death)

Growth (example: a selfish or evil character learning to be selfless/good, then giving up their life to save someone else)

Other character’s growth (example: a book about forging your identity while grieving would likely start off with a death that’s meaningful to the protagonist in the beginning of the story) (Warning—be careful about this one turning into bad death tropes! Read the next section for examples.)

Good and Bad Deaths: Examples

Good: Beth March in Little Women

Beth’s character is supposed to exemplify a person who is 100% good and pure of heart. She dies remaining steadfast in her positive demeanor and giving nature. Her death causes the other members of her family to spin into different directions for their character developments. Most notably, Jo March decides to be kinder and more giving to those around her, which leads to the events in the rest of the book.

Reasons this trope works: Beth is the trope of an angelic, faultless young person dying without ever having done anything wrong. However, it’s not necessarily bad because it doesn’t erase an otherwise unrepresented group of people and doesn’t serve the purpose of a male character’s growth.

Bad: Fred Weasley in Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

In the book, Fred dies after the floor explodes while he, Harry, and others regroup during the battle of Hogwarts. Harry (and the reader) are shocked when the dust settles and Percy can’t get Fred to respond to anything.

This death has been described as “realistic” by the author who has lost all of my respect for being a transphobic bigot, so she won’t be named, because she said that it was unrealistic that every Weasley family member survived the battle.

Reasons this death doesn’t work: This death is supposed to be a shock. That’s it. It adds to the surviving characters’ collective grief, but does it change any of their personal developments? Does it alter the world around them? Does it affect their futures? I would argue no. If a Weasley death was supposed to be significant to the plot/purposeful, it would have been a more well-known and loved Weasley like Ron, Ginny, or Molly.

3. Are You Unknowingly Writing Death Tropes?

Here are the most common death tropes to avoid in your writing. They ultimately are hurtful cliches that serve no purpose. Your writing will be much stronger and more meaningful to readers if it doesn’t include these types of deaths:

“Stuffing Women in Refrigerators”: a female character dies so a male character can grow (Think: every superhero who has a dead mom) (Read more about the trope here.)

“Black Dude Dies First”: a person of color dies for seemingly no reason (especially when there are little to no POC left in the story). This trope comes from a history of racism and devaluing characters of color, so be aware that none of your characters’ deaths reflect this trope by filling your stories with representation/deaths of more than just POC. Also, any deaths of POC should not serve solely as the vehicle for a white protagonist’s development. (Read more about the trope here.)

“Bury Your Gays”: an LGBTQ+ character dies for seemingly no reason. They might also die to advance the straight protagonist’s narrative/when there are no other LGBTQ+ characters. It comes from a history of bigotry and prejudice

The Resurrection Trope: a character’s death doesn’t mean anything because it’s reversed/repeated in cycles. They never stay dead and neither do any other characters. If death has no consequences, it’s meaningless. (With the exception of very specific story lines, like Groundhog Day or Russian Doll.)

If you want to really do a deep dive into death tropes, this website has an excellent list of tropes that work for both fiction and movies/TV shows.

-----

Writing and workshopping a death to make it as meaningful and plot-essential as possible might take some time. You might even discover that the death shouldn’t happen at all.

Either way, learning about death tropes and effective techniques is a great way to improve your writing skills and your future stories.

#writing death #death tropes #writing advice #writing tips #writeblr #tropes #writing tropes #writers of tumblr #writing

585 notes · View notes