#i am so rusty with writing this stuff I am so sorry | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

citruslullabies · 1 month

Note

Oii bom dia!

So, I don't know if you remember me, I'm the girl who said that loved the Catnap x Fox!Reader fic and wanted a part two!

So, here I am, with all my glory (wich it's not much) to make this little request, with some angst if you get me

You've been giving us too much sugar, I don't want to be diabetic/j

(Also, sorry for my terrible english, I'm not using a translator this time, and I suck at writing, I really need to practice it)

I'm a little rusty with writing full blown gore, so apologies!

Trigger warnings: blood, HEAVY gore, all that stuff again‼️DO NOT INTERACT IF EASILY DISTURBED‼️

Romantic/platonic?: unspecified

Requested by: liznarfox (@liznarfox look what you made me do)

Category: heavy angst boysssss

Ship (romantic or platonic): Catnap x fox smiling critter!reader

Word count: 1029 (my longest yet)

A Helping Paw: Severed Hands

You had been made to be of help to Catnap, made to be his best friend and his guide through it all.

That's all the more motivation for him to follow the prototype, to save himself and to save you. A part of him wanted to let you in on the plans but he knew you too well, and knew you'd be far too fearful to go through with them unless thrown in the action. Countless nights he'd stay locked away with only you by his side, tricked by your own feelings to check on your friend growing more and more distant only to fall asleep by his side as he stroked your fur lovingly.

He began to grow incredibly thin, his smile growing larger and his face somewhat distorted with wide disturbing eyes. They scared you, but he knew it'd all make sense to you one day.

The hour of joy was finally here, and all hell broke loose. You were panting and running through your sobs, trying to find the others and a way out. You wanted to throw up at how violent everyone had become, it was sickening. At each twist and turn you saw someone get torn apart, nearly vomiting once you stepped on something squishy and wet looking down to realize it was a tongue still twitching from being freshly ripped out of someone's skull.

Your ears were flat as you ran fast on your feet, tears rolling down your fluffy face as you breathed raggedly. But a glint of hope shined through your eyes when you saw Catnap in the distance. “Catnap-! There you are, we have to go!” You said, running over to him and fast but soon slowing down when seeing how he behaved.

Catnap's jaw unhinged like a snake, his paw down his throat as he pulled out remnants of bones. Your eyes locked on him before they slowly trailed down to the bodies of children torn apart In front of him, one of them still barely alive and trying to play dead but it would only be a matter of time before they were. They were too far gone, with their body practically torn in two and their eye closest to the ground burst like a cracked egg just left on the counter with the yolk spilling out.

The room stunk heavily of blood and tears, the blood in the carpet soaking into your feet and squelching with every step you took away. Your feline friend looked up and over at you, his once friendly face vile and terrifying, with his chin red as if he just finished eating a pomegranate.

“(Your name)...” He purred out, suddenly approaching. The disgusting sound like a sponge being squeezed every time he took a heavy step on the ruined carpet made your stomach twist and churn, but all you could focus on was the horrifying figure approaching you. One you used to call a friend.

You gulped as you looked around, eyes darting the rather large room where orphans used to play but you eventually had to face him again. His eyes were wide and murderous, causing your tail to tuck between your legs. “C-catnap.. why did you do this?” You slowly asked, chest feeling heavy as if you were about to dry heave from the sight caused by your friend. It was a miracle you managed to stomach everything you had seen and smelled.

He was silent, just getting closer and stopping once he was close enough. He pressed his nose against yours, purring despite you having to swallow your own throw up from the smell escaping the hollow shell of your best friend. He looked at you with eyes so cold yet so warm. “I did it… for us… the prototype will save us…” He cooed, once again saying the same sentence he had been saying for months. The prototype will save us. And yet it never made sense, and it still didn't.

You gulped and pulled your face away, clenching your eyes shut as you felt queasy from the smell reeking from him as if the blood soaked into his fur and bones. “What do you mean by that?? Is this what you've been talking about?” You asked in disbelief, taking a step back. With a pur the feline responded. “Yes… isn't it wonderful?” He cooed, watching you shake your head in disbelief and disgust. Catnap fell silent before speaking up again, his voice no longer holding any affection for you as he began to understand that you didn't hold the same viewpoint as he did, that you didn't understand why he did all of this and would only see him as a monster.

“You're meant to help me. To understand me… I see I was wrong.” He said coldly, looking down at you with blank eyes but that same smile he could never seem to get rid. Not even in his most manic times. “Thank you for your care, fox. I will save you in the only other way I know how to.”

Suddenly, a red smoke filtered in the room. He watched as you tried to fight against it, tried to run to the door but you collapsed against the carpeted floor instead. At least this way would be painless for you, or so he hoped. He carefully picked you up in his paws, adoring you like how you once adored him before he carefully cut you open as if you were a frog in a science class. He emptied out everything you had inside, his paws shivering at the feeling of your squishy interior and the warmth that would have at one point comforted him when you were whole.

He left your insides and bones on the floor, but kept your heart. He swore he could still hear it beating, the sound driving him even further into insanity but he kept it close in your memory. With one last nuzzle, he left you there. You had betrayed him in his eyes, and he saved you the only way he could.

He killed you out of mercy, not wanting to see you suffer like any other heretics.

Thanks for requesting! And part one is here

#i tried with the gore #tw gore #tw g0re #poppy playtime #smiling critters #poppy playtime x reader #catnap poppy playtime #poppy playtime catnap #poppys playtime #catnap #catnap x you #catnap x y/n #catnap x reader #catnap smiling critters

62 notes · View notes

taexbankai · 3 months

Text

I only want you

Hello everyone! This is my first time writing a story in about 6 years so i’m extremely rusty so PLEASE bear with me😭. I wanted to make a story that had smut but an actual plot with it so there will definitely be more chapters coming out! Also if there’s any spelling or grammar mistakes i apologize! I’ve been writing this story while at work so i read over it but i miss stuff sometimes

————————

The first time i met satoru was about 13 years ago. I was only 5 years old, my big brother suguru was 8. Suguru came home one day after school and asked our mom if he could bring a friend over after school tomorrow. My mom said yes and that was what started it all

the next day after school suguru came home and he brought his friend.

“hello, nice to meet you! I’m satoru gojo” the white haired boy said as he introduced himself to my mom.

“hello gojo nice to meet you! are you hungry? would you like anything to eat?” My mom said as she smiled at him

“yes please” gojo said as he returned her smile. I on the other hand couldn’t stop myself from staring at him. His pretty white hair and his beautiful blue eyes were so new to me, i couldn’t help but want to get closer to him.

“this is my little sister y/n” I heard suguru say which snapped me out of my thoughts. Gojo came over to me with a smile on his face

“hello y/n, i’m suguru’s best friend nice to meet you” he said as he looked right into me eyes

“h-hi” I said as i looked down at my feet, too shy to look him back in the eyes. I heard him and suguru laugh before suguru asked him if he wanted to go into his room and play the game. As they walked upstairs i immediately went into the kitchen to talk to my mom.

“mom, suguru’s best friend is super cute!” i said thinking back to how he smiled at me when he introduced himself to me, a smile slowly finding it’s way onto my face just thinking about him.

“aww, y/n’s first crush is her big brother’s best friend” my mom teased as she laughed at me.

——— time skip a few years sorry y’all lol

I am now 14 soon turning 15 and a sophmore in highschool. My brother and his best friend are now seniors in high school. I’ve become closer to satoru but my once innocent little crush has turned into being full on in love with him. Once i turned 14 i realized my feeling for satoru were more than just a little crush.

“i’m serious shoko!” i said to my best friend on facetime while combing my hair before bed

“ but y/n why gojo out of all people? he’s not even cute” shoko said to me with a very unimpressed look on her face as i ranted to her about satoru for the 15th time today

“ i’ve decided to just suck it up and tell him how i feel at my birthday party. I invited him and he said he’ll definitely be there” i told her as i turned off my room light and turned my led lights on as i laid down in my bed

“okay and what about your brother? he’s not gonna be happy about you wanting to date his best friend” shoko said

“i know… that’s why i just won’t tell him” i said as i looked over to my clock

“ anyways it’s almost 12 so i’m going to go to bed, text me when you get up bestie” i told shoko as i turned on my side, grabbing my phone charger

“okay, goodnight bestie love you”

“goodnight, love you too”

“y/n are you up?”

i woke up to someone knocking on my door

“hmm?” i said while turning on my other side curling into a ball, slowly falling back to sleep

“i’m coming in” i heard my brother’s voice say as my room door opened

“y/n what flavor cake did you want for the party? i need you to tell me now because i want to put in a order so it’s ready by saturday” suguru said as he sat down on my bed and pulled his phone out

“you can pick” i said, pulling my blanket over my head, desperately trying to go back to sleep

“okay, i don’t want to hear any complaints then” he said as he sighed and laid down next to me while on his phone

“get off! you’re on top of my blankets” i said to suguru, annoyed that he laid down on top of the blanket instead of underneath

“nah” he said and turned on his side. I angrily got up from underneath my blanket and tried to pull the blanket from underneath suguru

“you’re so heavy!” i said as he just sat there and laughed. After 5 minutes of pulling i just gave up and laid back down trying to go back to sleep

“who all did you invite to the party?” suguru suddenly asked me

“not that many people. Shoko, satoru, and a few other friends from school” i said as i looked at him. He nodded and started texting someone on his phone

“why?” i asked, curious now

“no reason, just wanted to know if i could invite some people” he said

“eww, you wanna invite your girlfriend” i said teasing him

“shut up. and she’s not my girlfriend” he said as he slightly pushed me

“yuki is always over and you’re always hanging out with her, you might as well just date her” i said

“enough about me, when are you going to get a boyfriend” he said to me slightly laughing

“ i already like someone right now” i said accidentally. my eyes widened once i realized what i said

“oh really? who is it?” suguru asked as he locked his phone and put it down, his attention now fully on me

“it doesn’t matter who it is” i said as i turned and looked at everything but him

“i wanna know who, just in case i gotta beat him up” suguru jokingly said

“can you not be an annoying big brother for like 5 minutes please?” i said as i rolled my eyes and started laughing

“no really though, i want to know” suguru said. just when i ran out of excuses to give him his phone started ringing

“you can just come inside the doors unlocked. I’m in y/n’s room” suguru said. the person on the other side of the phone said something before suguru hung up

“who was that?” i asked

“satoru” he said

“don’t think i’m letting you off the hook. I wanna know the boy my little sister has a crush on” suguru said in a mocking voice

“y/n has a crush on someone?! who is it?” satoru said as he suddenly bursted into my room

“both of you get out of my room!” i said, now super shy since satoru came into my room

“you can tell me, i won’t tell anybody” satoru said as he sat down on my bed. He looked at me over the top of his black glasses

“next time toru” i said as i grabbed my phone trying to distract myself

“now can you both leave so i can get in the shower?” i added, trying to change the topic as i stood up and began walking to my bathroom

“wait, what flavor did you want your cake? i’m helping suguru get stuff ready for the party” satoru asked me as he stood up and stopped me by grabbing my shoulders.

“white” i said quickly without giving satoru a chance to respond before turning around and going into my bathroom

“now both go you get out” i said as i closed the bathroom door and turned on the shower water

———————

first chapter is done! i really hope you all end up enjoying the story as i continue writing it 😭 please lmk if it’s terrible or if you’re actually liking it so far!

#gojo satoru #jjk #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #smut #jjk smut #jjk suguru #jjk x y/n #y/n #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu gojo #jujustsu kaisen x reader #gojou satoru x reader

90 notes · View notes

gutouhua · 1 year

Text

experienced older zhongli x younger f.reader

tags. drugs (from doctor’s office), dubcon, fingering, oral sex (f.receiving), heavily implied age gap (reader is like mid 20s, zhongli is like 38) established relationship, dom/sub undertones

a/n. i literally wrote this in a fever dream :') unedited & i'm really rusty with writing smut, sorry guys...

“Open your legs and relax, love.”

“Open my legs?” you slurred, something more than confusion muddling your words. “Why do I need to do that? I thought…thought the doctor said I was okay?”

“Yes,” Zhongli smiled, voice sticky sweet. “But I just want to double check. Double checking is good, love, and besides, I’m sure I’m a better doctor than that quack is.”

You frowned and thought about it. “That does make sense because you’re so…”

You trailed off, looking mischievously at him.

Zhongli arched a fine brow. “So what, sweetheart?”

“Old,” you giggled.

“I might be old, but you cum on this old man’s cock every night, love. So I don’t see any issue with my age.” He pushed his knees against yours, widening your legs with his. “Spread a little further.”

You pouted. He wasn’t wrong, but you weren’t either, and yet somehow it felt like he’d won the conversation. Whatever—you made yourself more comfortable on the duvet, sinking into the pillows, and spread your legs for Zhongli.

“Lift them up.”

Even amidst the haze of the drugs, you raised your skirt hem upon command, muscle memory aiding your fuzzy head.

Zhongli had to suppress a deep shiver when he saw your wet folds, sticky sweet against the near translucent fabric of your panties.

“You’ll be the death of me, I swear,” he groaned, palming his hard cock through the stuff fabric of tailored trousers.

“No dying,” you said, trying to sound stern but failing.

Zhongli hummed and leaned down, his face at your thighs. “And why’s that, sweetheart? You’ll miss my cock?” he teased.

“No dummy!” You swatted his head lightly. “You still have to make sure the doctor did a good job! Didn’t you say you were gonna check!”

Zhongli had to stop the full belly laughter that threatened to come out. Upon sight of your cunt, he’d nearly forgotten his true objective. “Of course, of course—I’ll check and make sure that so-called doctor did a good job and didn’t hurt you.”

“Thank you,” you mumbled, almost petulantly.

Zhongli pulled your panties off, shimmying it around your ass.

“Okay then, let’s get started.” Zhongli swiped his long tongue against his middle and ring finger—although if the shininess of your folds was any indication of how wet you were, he wouldn’t need to do that—and lightly pressed his two fingers against your pussy.

“How does that feel?” he murmured, going up and down your folds, just barely skimming your clit.

“Inside,” you demanded. Frustration pitched your voice, made it higher and whiny, but Zhongli didn’t mind. Found it endearing.

“I have to make sure the outside is okay first, love, then I’ll check the inside.”

“Okay, fine,” you muttered.

Zhongli chuckled and continued to massage the folds until you began squirming underneath his hold and he had to steady your hips with his free hand. An errant finger would occasionally slip just past your folds, but then it was gone and you were fighting his fingers with your hips.

“Slow down, love. There’s no rush,” he said, sweeping long fingers against your folds. He gathered the wetness that dripped, caught it before it dirtied the sheets, and then pushed lightly inside, three fingers this time—just the tip—and you nearly folded in half from the sudden intrusion.

“Deeper baby, please.” Desperate begging, completely forgetting that your husband was supposed to be checking for health reasons and not pleasure.

“But I am deep?” he said coyly, sinking down to his second knuckle. Zhongli pumped his fingers in and out of your cunt, giving you slow strokes and just barely curling them.

“Not—” you buck your hips, trying to impale his fingers on you, “—not deep enough. I want you deeper.”

“Ask nicely, and I’ll do it. I will give you anything you ask for,” Zhongli said softly. He continued to stroke your insides, never going all the way in, and you didn’t want to cave—how did you even get into this position in the first place, you wondered—but you could feel your insides draw tight, your core fighting for sweet relief.

When you didn’t say anything immediately, Zhongli pressed his tongue to the seam of your lips, against the folds that sucked his fingers greedily and you cried out from the sudden sensation. “Wife?” he murmured, licking your cunt messily while continuing to finger fuck you.

“F-Fine,” you said shakily. Half-angry, half-aroused beyond belief. He knew you couldn’t resist him when he called you wife; used it every time he wanted something from you, or in this case, wanted to give you something.

“Will you go deeper, please?”

Zhongli latched his tongue around your clit and sucked lightly, pleased when your hips lurched forward and bumped his nose. Words half muffled, he said, “Manners.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat; swallowed your need to win and acquiesced. “Please..please sir. Please go deeper, sir.”

“That’s a good girl,” Zhongli praised and then thrusted knuckles deep into your cunt, sucking your clit at the same time with a harsh pull of his tongue.

Hips lifted into the air, above the bed like an offering, you keened. “I’m gonna cum, baby, gonna cum—”

“Then come, sweetheart. Give it to me.”

And so you did: when the tight draw in your stomach threatened to overwhelm you, eyes glossy from tears and something else, with Zhongli encouraging you, whispering praises—good girl, sweetheart, you’re doing so good, princess, cum for me—you let yourself go with a long moan and something garbled and something sounding sort of like Zhongli’s name.

Only when you relax into the sheets, eyes closed, breath slow, exhausted, does Zhongli pull out, fingers soaked, the lower half of his face shiny and wet. But he doesn’t mind, likes the taste, really, and takes the chance to lick his fingers clean since you always chastise him for doing so in front of you.

You got so embarrassed over things like that, Zhongli thought, but thought riding his cock wasn’t. He smiled, and although he liked you a sweaty and pleasured mess, you’d feel better waking up clean, but he’d clean you later. Not yet.

He brought his saliva-coated fingers under his nose.

Inhaled.

Yes, this is it.

#guys this is not...my best work but i just wanna write something smutty & not think about editing it...#zhongli x reader #zhongli smut #genshin smut #zhongli x y/n #zhongli x you #zhongli thirst #zhongli imagines #genshin fanfic #genshin x reader

523 notes · View notes

holdmytesseract · 1 year

Note

hey my love ❤️ can I resquest u something?

daryl is expecting a child with the reader where he is super excited but he also spends his time outside, looking for things for his baby.. but he receives a call from rick saying that his girlfriend is in the infirmary and when he arrives he finds out that the reader lost the pregnancy and he takes care of her and pampers her a lot those days after they both take great care of each other, because he will also be super sad😭

Sorry for my bad english 🤦

Into Shards

Daryl Dixon x pregnant!Reader

Summary: When Daryl is outside the walls, looking for stuff for yours and his baby, he gets called back by Rick - only to come home to devastating news...

Warnings: Major trigger warning here! Miscarriage! pregnancy things, walkers, fluff, bit blood

Set in the beginning of season 9!

Word Count: 2,2k

a/n: Hi nonny! Thank you for the request! ☺️💚 I am honest... I don't know if I should love this one, or not. I tried to write a bit action as well, but it probably isn't the best... Hope you like it nevertheless! 🙈

Tagging: @km-ffluv @loz-3 @stitchintimefan @peaches1958 @fictive-sl0th @lou12346789 @in-this-minute @hotgirlsshareaccounts @sweetpeapod @fuseburner @azanoni @bookofsecretjourneys

Masterlist

"'M goin' back out today. That okay for ya?" Daryl asked, while buttoning up the last few buttons of his black shirt and rolling up the sleeves. You smiled at him, stretched and stood up; leaving the cosy bedsheets behind. "Of course." You said, stepping closer and watching him slip in his angel-winged vest. Both your hands found their way on his chest, softly tugging on the cold, smooth fabric of the famous leather vest. "As long as you're coming back to us..." You whispered with a smile; your eyes never leaving his beautiful blue-greyish ones.

Us... The word hit Daryl like a ton of bricks - in the best way possible, though. It caused the ends of his nerves to sizzle. An overwhelming feeling of warmth and love flooding his veins. Us... He couldn't stop himself from smiling that signature sweet, small, boyish smile. "Ain't gonna ever leave ya two alone," he stated, shaking his head. One hand settled on your left hip, while the other found your yet non-existent baby bump. Although Daryl always stated, that he was already able to feel the tiny, innocent life. Despite the fact that you were barely eight to ten weeks along - according to Siddiq. Whenever he said that, you'd just giggle and shake your head.

"'M always goin' to come back for ya. 'Specially now." Your smile even widened; one hand reaching up to brush a chestnut brown curl out of his handsome face. "I know." You stood on your tippy-toes to brush your lips against his; eyelids fluttering shut.

"I can't convince you to let me join you, can I?" Daryl scoffed playfully, shaking his head. "Absolutely not. Ain't lettin' you walk around out there." You sighed, but giggled. "Thought so... Take care out there, yes? Be safe." Your boyfriend nodded. "'Course. Promised." "Good." You kissed him again. "I'll be back 'fore the sun's goin' down."

Daryl grabbed his crossbow then, his knives and took one of the pick-up's. His bike would've been a bit too small for his task ahead. With a last look at you and a soft smile, he left Alexandria; off to find and scavenge stuff for the baby.

Around midday, Daryl was already several miles away from home, searching every square inch of a few smaller cities around D.C. Daryl knew that it probably wasn't the best idea to be close to such a big city, but that didn't scare him.

Now he was sneaking down the streets of a rather very small city he didn't know the name of. Not much houses, only a few shops. His eyes landed on an old building. Not big and plain. Unimportant, unnecessary. He was about to walk past it, when he recognised the small sign over the old, rusty door... 'Smith's Baby Store'. Wasn't that exactly what he was looking for? "Finally," he muttered to himself under his breath, drawing his knives. With his foot, he kicked against the unstable door, listening for any signs of walkers. Nothing.

Carefully, he opened the door. It didn't budge at first, but with a little more strength, it finally gave in - as if someone was inside it before him. Looking around to check the street for any stray walkers - which wasn't the case, he stepped inside the small house. Daryl noticed immediately, that this house was constructed very... strange. The door didn't lead straight into the shop. It led into a long, dark hallway - with only three other doors. One on the left, one on the right and one at the end of the hallway. Daryl sneaked on quiet feet down the squeaking hallway; the old wood creaking underneath his weight. He checked the two rooms on the sides first, but found nothing. One room was already scavenged. Not much things were left. Most of the items useless and broken. The other room was nothing more than a broom closet with dusty cleaning supplies.

Daryl let out a slightly annoyed groan, before he made his way to the last room. The sparse wooden door wasn't locked. It was slightly ajar, making it easy for the archer to open it. The door led into a big room, full of shelves and cupboards, in which several baby things were. A smile twitched at the corners of Daryl's lips. Jackpot. But just a moment later, his expression shifted into a frown. The building had been clearly scavenged already, so... Why leave this room out? Why not take these things as well?

The answer got the archer only seconds after the thought had crossed his mind. He took a few steps inside the room - and immediately felt the floor giving softly in underneath him; bending under his weight. The wood was rotten, dilapidated and more than unstable. Daryl walked backwards again, biting his lip and weighing his options. Should he risk it? Should he not? He didn't know what was beneath the floor. Perhaps the basement? He could've sworn he had seen a small stair in the other room, leading down to a door. The basement couldn't be that bad, could it? And perhaps the floor held him, so... Daryl had been way too long on his way today and the past days - weeks. He didn't want to go home once again empty handed.

So, he took the risk - and paid for it almost immediately. The old wood held his weight the first time and also the second time - but not the third. It gave in underneath him, creaking and aching, causing the archer to fall - like he had predicted into the basement. With a thud, he landed on his back, groaning. "Shit." Only a tiny window let the sunlight in and illuminated the dark, dusty and... smelly room. His ears were ringing from the fall, his senses blinded for a moment, causing him to not realise instantly, what he got himself into.

Only when the sounds of low snarls and snapping teeth urged slowly but surely to his ears, he realised. Daryl's eyes widened in shock and surprise, before he scrambled to get up from the cold ground. The window didn't let much light in... But enough to show that said basement was filled with more than just two walkers... Way more than two. Daryl grimaced - in pain and frustration. "Damn it!" The walkers noticed him, of course, immediately and went straight at him. Daryl reached for his knife to get rid of the first undead, attacking him; all the while scanning the room for the door. He had to get out of this.

Unfortunately - just in that moment, while he was fighting the undead, started his walkie talkie to give forth some static hissing, before Rick's voice echoed across the basement. "Daryl?!" The archer got rid of another walker, plunging his knife into its rotten skull, before retrieving the weapon again, and reached for the walkie talkie attached to his belt. He thought it had been the last one, but just as he was about to answer his brother, another walker lunged at Daryl from behind, with such an impact that the little, black device slipped from Daryl's hand, along with his knife. A grunt left his lips as he tried to get the undead man away from him. He turned and stumbled to the ground with the walker landing on top of him. Its foul breath hitting Daryl's face; rotten teeth snapping at him, mere inches from his neck. "Daryl?! Do you copy?!" Rick's voice called out for him again. Daryl gritted his teeth and used all his force to shove the undead away from him. Quickly he reached for his knife and killed the walker. Panting, he fell back on his back, catching his breath. "Come on, Daryl! It's urgent!" Rick sounded almost desperate by now. Daryl took a deep breath and stood up to get the walkie talkie. "Rick? Rick! I'm here." He panted, wiping some blood from his face. "Sorry, man. Had to get rid of a few walkers."

Rick answered instantly. "Thank god. Daryl, you gotta get back here! Quick!" The man frowned, making his way to the small door of the basement. "Why?" "Y/N's in the infirmary! She-" Rick's voice broke and Daryl's heart dropped. You were in the infirmary? Fear and panic immediately started to rise within the archer. "Rick?!" He literally screamed into the walkie talkie, "Rick!" but all he got in return was static hissing. "Fuck's sake!" The archer cursed and slammed the device on the ground, before he literally run up the stairs and out of the house. Something was wrong, if you were in the infirmary - and whatever it was, he had to get back to Alexandria as fast as possible.

The gates got opened immediately, as soon as Daryl approached Alexandria. The archer didn't even bother to park the pic-up on its rightful place. He jumped out of the vehicle and slammed the door shut; seeing Rick already running his way. "Daryl!" The archer met his friend midway. "Wha' happened?! What's wrong with 'er?!" "You better see for yourself...," was all Rick said - a sorrowful look on his face. Daryl didn't let himself tell that twice, of course. As fast his legs could carry him, he sprinted to the infirmary. Without even knocking he ripped the door open and stormed in - attracting Siddiq's attention. "Daryl." "Where is she?!" The archer walked up and down the room like a wounded tiger; tried to push past the doctor - but Siddiq stood firmly in his way and tried to calm him down. "Daryl, calm down. Y/N's in the last room down the hall. Let me explain first, okay?" The black-haired man lifted his hands as if in surrender. Another try to calm the worked up man across him down. Daryl's chest heaved, as he grunted and gave the doctor a short nod - which Siddiq returned. "You... You might want to sit down for this." "Nah, 'm good. Tell me wha' happened." The doctor took a deep breath. "Alright, I... Y/N came to me a few hours ago; said she had cramps. Usually nothing to be worried about, but I checked on her nevertheless." Siddiq swallowed hard, lowering his head. "When I went to check, I... I saw that... There was blood, Daryl."

The archer's eyes widened and he felt his heart drop for the second time that day. Deep down, he already knew what it meant, of course, but he didn't want to believe it. Not until Siddiq spoke the dreadful words out loud. "Y/N, she... I'm afraid she had a miscarriage. I'm sorry." Daryl just stared at his friend blankly. The news - the shock was just too overwhelming. Without saying a single word, the archer walked past the doctor and straight down the hall, towards your room.

Gently opening the door, he found you laying on a bed, curled up into a ball. Your back towards him. He could hear the soft cries and sobs, which left your lips - breaking his heart. Daryl whispered your name, trying to hold back his own tears. You stirred immediately; hearing his voice. Shifting to face him, he saw your tear-stained cheeks and red, puffy eyes. "D-Daryl..." You sobbed, causing more tears to fall. He was immediately at your side, pulling you against his body. "'M here, love, 'm here. 'S alright, 'm here..." Of course, he knew that nothing was alright, but what was he supposed to say?

Daryl felt your body shaking against his. He wanted to scream; he wanted to cry - but he couldn't allow himself that. He needed to be strong for you. For the both of you. But the harsh reality hit him nevertheless. A few hours back, everything was alright. His little world was perfect. And now? Now it all came crashing down. The happiness ripped out of both your hands - within the blink of an eye. "I-I am s-so s-sorry, I-I-I..." You stammered, hands clasping on his vest; holding onto him for dear life. Daryl immediately shook his head. "Stop that, please... You have nothin' to be sorry for. This ain't your fault, sunshine." "It h-has to b-be! I-I must've done s-something wrong, I…" "Nah, you didn't. These things just happen sometimes." You looked up at him with hooded Y/E/C eyes. "B-But why to u-us? W-We were so happy about it... Looked forward to meet this baby and now... Now they are gone..." The words caused fresh tears to run down your cheeks. "I don't know, sunshine... I don't know..."

The most important thing was, that you had each other. It was going to be a tough time, but you knew that with Daryl by your side, you would overcome the grief. Scars were going to heal with time and sooner or later, you would welcome a new life in this world, where happiness was most precious and family was the most precious gift. Yes, it wasn't going to be easy, but you knew from all the things you've been through that everything works out in the end. After all, light couldn't exist without darkness, could it?

The next days Daryl spent the whole time at home with you. He didn't leave your side. Not even for a minute. The both of you spent most of the time in your house; secluded. Everybody understood that, of course and gave you all the time you needed to process the loss. Losing a child was never easy. No matter if born or unborn.

#daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon x pregnant!reader #daryl dixon #twd #the walking dead daryl #the walking dead

355 notes · View notes

builtbybrokenbells · 1 year

Text

Spitfire | iii

Jake still can’t seem to get the girl from the bar off his mind, even after his time in Baltimore was long forgotten to everyone else. He spends his free time getting to know her, realizing quickly that she’s everything he’s dreamed of. She makes fast at showing him that not everyone is interested in him solely for the fame, but he’s still puzzled at how she pushed him to the brink of falling in love with her in only a mere few weeks.

Read part two here

Read part four here

Pairing: jake kiszka x f!reader

Word count: 5.3k

Warnings: university exams/exam season (🤢), drinking, smoking (weed & cigarettes), long distance, annoying brotherly activities, fluff, mentions of provocative text messages, not really a whole lot w this one, but sorry if i missed any!

hi! here’s part three :) this is mostly a filler to advance to the main story, but i wanted to throw in some long distance fluffiness because i love hurting my own feelings! lots of dialogue to set the scene/relationship/emotion. as always, enjoy, and please be kind and ignore any grammar mistakes 🫶🏻🫶🏻 also disclaimer I am no longer a science student at university so some of the science-y stuff may not be perfectly accurate, no hate pls

An incoming call shook you from your focus, your eyes quickly darting down at your phone to see who it was from. You removed your glasses for a moment, rubbing your eyes to wake yourself up. When you put them back on, you noticed that Jake was the one causing the disturbance. A small smile crossed your lips as you picked your phone up, swiping across the screen to accept the video call. His face appeared after a few seconds, a beaming grin plastered on his cheeks. His hair was damp, likely from him showering after the concert he’d just had. A few hours earlier, he promised he’d call when he got back to the hotel, and it wasn’t like Jake to forget a promise.

“Hello, beautiful.” He said before you had a chance to greet him. You let out a small laugh, clicking the lamp on that was sitting on your computer desk. You placed your phone against the screen of your laptop, propping it up so you didn’t have to hold it.

“Hello, handsome.” You greeted back. “But, I am far from beautiful right about now.” You dismissed him, taking your hair down from its messy bun and putting it back up, neater this time. “I think this paper is going to kill me.” You truly meant it. You were in the midst of writing your final thesis paper for your undergraduate degree. After doing a research credit all year long, the paper proved the most difficult of the whole process.

“I think you’re going to ace it.” He said, taking a seat on the hotel bed. “What’s it on, anyway? You never actually told me.” He was right; you’d been working on it the entire time you’d known him, but never dived into the specifics with him, too afraid of talking his ear off about your year-long journey.

“Um,” you gave a small chuckle, pulling out your draft report. “The study of blood-glucose measurement based on blood resistivity.” You muttered the title before tossing the book of paper back down. His eyes widened a bit, trying to process what you were saying, but he covered it up quickly with a supportive nod.

“I love it when you talk science to me.” He sighed, a note of humour radiating from him. You let out a giggle, happy he’d called to ease the tension between you and your work. “But, you know, could you give me a refresher on what exactly that means?” He asked, leaning back against his headboard. You noticed he was shirtless, feeling a small flutter in your stomach at the sight.

“You mean to tell me you can’t tell me all about a diabetic study based off voltage and curve fitting?” You asked, an incredulous look in your eye. He laughed, giving a shrug.

“I’m a bit rusty.” You admired his features, how beautiful he looked when he was happy. You also noticed he looked tired himself, his eyes drooping slightly.

“I’ve been doing a research credit for my degree. I read a study about something similar way back in high school and it stuck with me, because my father’s side of the family struggles with diabetes. My dad and two of my brothers have Type 1. I decided to take a deeper look into it for my thesis.” You explained. He gave you his full attention, humming an agreement to assure you he was listening. “But basically what I’m doing is experimenting to see if we can measure a persons blood-sugar level in a non-invasive way. I studied pulses with electrodes and compared the voltage to different blood-sugar levels on a curve to see if it’s a suitable way to calculate it.”

“Did it work?” He asked, genuinely intrigued.

“Well, sort of.” You scratched your head, furrowing your eyebrows slightly, trying to find the best way to explain it. “There’s definitely a correlation, and I think if it was studied further, it could genuinely get somewhere. It would be pretty cool if it did. Blood-sugar level tests are extremely troublesome in general. They take time, they’re painful, and super expensive in the long run. I know my family spent thousands of dollars on Will and Sam when they were kids, and we had good insurance. It was really interesting to look at. I’m glad I picked it, but almost seven months of study is a lot to compile into one report.” You chuckled. “It’s required to be 40-60 pages long.”

“I think you’re a genius,” he said as a matter-of-fact “and I know that whatever you put down on that paper is going to be fantastic.” He assured you. You gave him a smile, appreciating his words.

“I can only be so much of a genius with a recycled idea,” you reminded, sitting up in your chair. “But I’m almost done the bulk of the work now, so I can forget about it soon enough.”

“When is it due?” He questioned.

“Friday.” You sighed, looking at your calendar. “Three days to go and I’m officially done.”

“See? That’s not so bad. I’ll read it when you’re finished and tell you how amazing it is. I probably won’t understand any of it, but I do know how to give you a compliment.” He flashed the smile that you’d been missing so much. And he was right, he sure did know how to compliment you. It was his favourite pastime, even when you looked as run down as you did in that moment.

“And I would be more than delighted to share it with you.” You watched him again, more interested in him than you’d ever been in your schoolwork. “Anyway, enough about me. How’d your show go, rockstar?”

“I don’t think I can ever get enough of you,” the cheesy line was accompanied by a goofier grin. You rolled your eyes, both of you knowing you weren’t really annoyed with him. “It was good. The crowds are always amazing. We played really well, but I am tired though.”

“Of course you are; it’s hard work to put on a good show.” You sympathized. You could tell how much he loved what he did, but he was always exhausted when he called you at night, which was a common occurrence. He’d been gone for almost two weeks, now, and if he absolutely could not call you during the day, he texted as much as he could. Communication was never ceased, in turn, never leaving you wondering if he meant everything he’d told you. It only took him the length of the plane ride to use your number after he left, claiming he didn’t stop thinking of you once while he was flying away from you. Now, the end of your semester was quickly approaching, which meant the end of your bachelor studies as well.

The day you’d so conveniently ran into him at the coffee shop had sparked a beautifully blossoming relationship. That evening, both went back to your house, where he’d met your roommates (well, officially, at least) and you all had dinner together. You’d given him the house tour he’d been so eager for, and eventually you went back to his hotel with him. Much to everyone’s disbelief, it was completely PG the whole night, aside from a few kisses. You’d met his brothers, spent some time with them and were lucky enough to get to know them, even if it wasn’t much past the surface level. You and Jake spent the night talking, listening to music and really getting past the superficialities.

Not once did he make an advance, proving to you even further that he meant what he’d told you. You shared a bed with him night, falling asleep wrapped in each others arms with no intent for sex or any other hidden implications. It was something you’d never experienced before. When you woke, you got breakfast together. You went with him to the airport to see him off, and he’d kissed you. That’s where the intimacy ended. Now, you had to see him through a phone screen or a camera, always aching to be held by him again. It was the most peace you’d ever known from another person.

You were still nervous, finding it hard to integrate another person into your daily routine in such a way, but the process was made so much easier because of the type of person he was. He was understanding of your timidity, always kind and gentle, he was quick with his words and they were always sweet, and he was gorgeous. Making Jake a part of your every day life had been easier than anything you’d ever done. Nothing was official; it was mostly just phone calls and texting, even if it was constant. A lot of it was innocent, asking about each others days, or mindless chatter that you would never bother to share with anyone else. No matter what you had to say, he always seemed to want to listen. Occasionally, the flirting would take over. He was usually very respectful, he didn’t like to initiate until he knew you were okay with it, but every now and then, he’d send a risky text or picture first. Nothing too graphic, just enough to let you know he was thinking about you. You’d never admit it, but they were some of your favourite texts to receive. Sometimes you would send one first, particularly when it was a bad time for him, just to be an asshole.

You were still processing the entire situation. You’d never been in a relationship or a ‘situationship’, as some say, without it starting with sex, or at least the intent of only having sex. It was nice, knowing him so well before he knew you so intimately. The emotional intimacy felt way nicer than any physical gratification you could imagine. You felt yourself really falling for Jake, despite being so evasive of the idea when you first met him. You truly felt like he was someone you could love, or he was someone who could love you like you’d always wanted.

“When is your ceremony?” He asked. Your eyes shot up to the screen, breaking out of your thoughts.

“Uh, what, sorry?” You cleared your throat, feeling a bit embarrassed for zoning out.

“Your graduation ceremony?” He asked again, not bothered by having to repeat himself.

“Oh,” you looked at your calendar again, eyes tracking the days. There was a big red circle with the word ‘freedom’ scribbled in it. You chuckled to yourself, remembering when Eve had written it. She was over the moon for you when you submitted your credits for review to graduate. She was taking her degree slow, likely to finish in five years rather than four. Knowing that you would still be there with her while she finished, or that she wouldn’t have to leave you behind when she moved away, made both of you relieved beyond measure. “The 24th.” You clarified.

“I have a show that day.” His voice was sad. You felt a bit of disappointment at his words, but you understood. Besides, you’d only known him for a couple weeks; you couldn’t expect him to drop everything to go to your graduation when he barely knew you.

“That’s okay.” You assured him. “I didn’t expect you to go anyway.” You realized how harsh your words sounded after they came out. A solemn look fell across his features. “No, Jake, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.” You rushed out. “I just meant that we’ve only been talking for a few weeks. I would never expect you to drop your whole life to come and see my ceremony.”

“You say that like you’re not important to me.” He said, fidgeting with something behind the screen.

“I know I am, Jake.” You assured him. “And you’re important to me, too. I just know that life is busy. Especially for you, rockstar.” A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

“Maybe Eve will be generous enough to do a video call with me.” He suggested. You nodded, thinking that wasn’t a bad idea at all.

“I’ll have to ask her, but I’m sure she would. I think she likes you.” He let out a small laugh.

“Well that’s good, I guess.” His attention was disrupted by a knock on his door. “Hold on,” he mumbled, getting out of the bed. He continued holding the phone, not wanting to miss a moment of time talking to you. You heard his hotel door open, only being able to see his shoulder on the camera.

“Hello, brother.” You heard a voice say. You could recognize it as Josh’s. He’d joined your calls a fair few times over the last few weeks, just the same as Danny and Sam. You were slowly getting to know all of the boys, which was really making you feel like Jake was serious about this whole thing. “Care to partake?” You heard a laugh fall from Jake, warming your heart. You were certain that it had become your favourite sound in the whole world.

“Yeah, but she has to join, too.” Jake informed his brother.

“Oh, is that y/n?” Josh asked, his excitement growing. “Actually, I don’t think I even have to ask.”

“Hi, Josh!” Your voice echoed from the phone. You saw a struggle on the screen, hearing muffled bumps and noises, until eventually Josh’s smiling face popped into view.

“Hey, mama.” You could hear Jake arguing with his brother, trying to get his phone back. Josh seemed to be walking down the hallway, now, away from his twin. You couldn’t help but giggle at the interaction. “You wanna get drunk with us?” He asked. You eyed your laptop screen, internally debating if you should or not.

“You know, you guys are awfully bad influences.” You teased.

“Is that a yes?” You could see Jake approaching in the background of the camera, now. Josh raised his eyebrow at you in anticipation. He was still evading Jake, picking up his speed as he ran away from him.

“Josh, don’t pressure her into it.” Jake scolded. He sounded far away, you could barely make out what he was saying. You were having a hard time holding back your laughs, now. The whole situation was perfectly comedic and seemed to be exactly what you needed to feel better.

“Yeah, I’d love to, Josh.” You agreed. He let out a triumphant noise, halting his movement completely. Jake finally reached him, grabbing his phone back. You finally lost control of your laughter when you saw his grumpy expression appear in the frame. “Hi, honey.” You joked through bouts of giggles, wiping away a tear that had fallen.

“I’m glad you think he’s funny,” Jake tried to sound annoyed, but he was failing miserably, unable to stay upset while seeing you so happy. “Try being around him all of the time.”

“Oh come on, he’s not that bad.” You comforted, catching your breath.

“You have no idea.” He grumbled, making his way back to his hotel room. Josh appeared behind him, holding a liquor bottle in his hand. You stood yourself, throwing a hoodie on over your tank top. Jake watched you silently, admiring you. He thought you were the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen, even when you were doing the most mundane tasks. You grabbed your cigarette pack from the desk and slipped it into the pocket. “Are you sure you want to stay on the phone? I can let you go, I know you have work to do.” The concern was dripping from his words.

“I’m okay, I want to talk to you guys. I wasn’t getting much work done, anyway. I think I just have to take a break, start fresh tomorrow.” You were lying, but only slightly. Your work was not going fantastic, but you were making progress. Still, you’d rather put the last bit of your report off until tomorrow if it meant you got to spend time with Jake, even if it was virtual.

“Okay, if you’re sure.” Jake said, a note of warning in his tone.

“She wants to hang out with us, Jake. Don’t convince her to change her mind.” You could practically hear Josh’s eye roll in his statement.

“What, I’m not- you know what? Get out.” Even as he said it, there was a smile on his face and a ghost of a laugh in his voice. You thought it was sweet, how close the two boys were. Twin thing aside, they really were best friends. They knew each other better than anyone else, and they were always functioning on the same wavelength. Even when they were mad at each other, they were never really mad.

Almost nightly you’d see an appearance from Josh in your FaceTimes with Jake. He’d instantly added you on his personal social media’s, wanting to know you just as bad as Jake did, but for a different reason. You remembered back to a few days after they left, how Josh had sent you a message telling you that ‘if Jake talked so highly about you, he had to know you, too’. The instant acceptance was heartwarming. The boys reminded you of your own brothers. You were excited for them all to meet, eventually. They’d talked on the phone a few times, but you couldn’t wait for them to all be together and really know each other.

Just as you were exiting your room, your phone began to vibrate again. A grin pulled at your lips. Your brother Sam was calling, too. “Hold on, guys.” You said, clicking the hold button on your current call and answering the video from your sibling. “Hello, spawn of Satan.” You greeted as soon as the call connected.

“I’m really starting to question if you love me or not.” He shot back. You chuckled.

“Oh, I do love you, brother dearest, but it’s because I have to.” You teased. “Hold on, I’m on the phone with Jake. I’m going to merge it.” You informed him. He gave a nod. You clicked into the other call, pressing the merge button. Within a moment, the screen was shared between Jake and Sam. It took Jake a moment to realize what happened, but when he did, his eyes lit up.

“It’s other Sam!” He said. Your brother cracked a smile, probably larger than any one he’d ever given you.

“What’s up, rockstar?” Sam asked. Josh peeked his head into view, not wanting to miss out on any of the conversation. “Twin rockstars!” Jake and Josh got a chuckle out of it. You’d instantly told Sam about Jake, calling him right after you got home from the airport. Sam, being a nosy little shit, did a deep dive of him on all social media’s. Within a few days, all of your brothers knew about him, and were begging you to let them meet him. So, you thought you’d ease the transition by allowing them on a few of your calls with him. Sam had taken to him immediately, especially upon learning he also had a brother named Sam. According to him, it was fate that you and Jake ended up together. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he wanted to date Jake, too.

“Glad I’m so easily forgettable.” You rolled your eyes, making your way down the hallway and into the kitchen. Ally was sitting at the table with a bowl of soup and her laptop in front of her. She looked like she’d been crying, staring down her final assignment with a look of disdain on her face. Exam season always put a damper on the household mood. You walked over and gave her a supportive shoulder pat, knowing you were close to the same mental state. Sam found himself chatting away with the other two boys, completely ignoring your comment, which only proved your point further. “M’going outside, if you wanna join.” You told her. She shook her head, barely being able to formulate words.

“I have to finish this.” She groaned, relaxing into her chair. “Due tomorrow.”

“Stuck?” You asked, peering down at her screen. She nodded. You gazed at the question that was left answerless, the last one on the page. “Is this Calc III?” She gave a nod. “Okay, where’s your work for it so far?” She pointed out a paragraph.

“I just can’t seem to get the numbers to work out.” She let out a long sigh, throwing her pencil down on the table. You looked over it for a minute, studying the numbers she was using.

“Okay, it’s a relation between a flux and a line integral, right?”

“Yeah, it is.” You turned the volume down on your phone a bit, not wanting to distract her while the boys talked.

“You remember the unit where you talked about the three main integral theorems?” She gave a hum, seeming to get what you’re saying. “One of those has an equation that will solve this question. And you’ll need to remember it for the exam, too, because there’s a couple questions about it.” You told her. She looked like she was wracking her brain for an answer, desperate to remember what you were talking about. After a moment, it seemed to click.

“Stoke’s theorem!” She exploded, catching the attention of all of the boys on the phone call. She noticed the lack of noise, a blush rising to her cheeks. You held up your hand for a high-five, helping her forget about her outburst. “Thank you.” She whispered.

“No problem,” you assured her “now, if you want to join, I will be outside getting fucked up. I am trying to forget about my thesis.” She let out a small laugh.

“How many pages?” She asked.

“I am on page 51, if you must know. Nearly there!” You cheered yourself on. “I should be able to finish it tomorrow.” You went to the fridge, grabbing a bottle of wine and a container of cut up fruit someone had bought at the grocery store.

“I believe in you.” She said, turning back to her laptop. “I might be out in a bit. I haven’t seen Eve all day. Not sure if she’s alive or not, so I’ll have to check on her first.” You saw Sam perk up at the mention of Eve’s name. He probably hadn’t heard from her, either. She was fully immersed in studying, more so than anyone else. She took her exams extremely serious. With a smaller course load, she wanted to ensure her marks were as best as they could be. You were proud of her for it. She worked really hard, but you did miss her presence during exam weeks.

“Saw her this morning drinking orange juice from the bottle, haven’t seen her since.” You informed her. The two of you shared a laugh. “She’s alive, just in hermit mode.”

You parted ways, opening the front door after putting on a pair of slippers. You moved over to the patio chairs placed around a table on the porch. It was a closed porch with large glass windows and another door leading to the street. You thought it was peaceful, finding it your favourite spot in the whole house. You sat down, resting your feet on the table. You pulled out a joint and a cigarette from the cardboard box in your pocket. “What did I miss?” You asked them, now focusing on your screen again.

“We were actually just talking about how much we hate you,” Sam said, a hint of fake sympathy accompanying his words.

“Mmhmm,” you mumbled, joint now between your lips and your lighter setting the tip ablaze. You took a large inhale, the cherry glowing red in the dim lighting. A billow of smoke flowed from your mouth as you exhaled. Almost instantly, you felt the tension melt off your shoulders. Josh seemed positively buzzed, his cheeks burning red and his smile never leaving. Sam looked as though he was ready for bed, eyes heavy and bloodshot. You were sure he’d been high for hours. Jake was sipping a drink silently, but his eyes never seemed to move from the camera.

“Alex and I are flying in Friday morning.” Sam said. Your eyes lit up, a course of adrenaline flowing through your veins.

“Really?” He gave a nod.

“Yeah, we decided to come early, spend some with with you before mom and dad got there. I think our flight leaves here at five.” He explained. “So you better have all of your shit done, because we want to party.” He warned.

“It will be, don’t worry.” You promised. “I think I’ll have my report done by tomorrow. I just have to type the conclusion and my entire novel of sources.” You chuckled to yourself, looking down at the joint between your fingers. “I’ll get Ally to proofread it; she said she would a few days ago. After that, I’m a free woman.” You announced, feeling proud of yourself for getting this far.

After that, the chatter died down. Sam eventually hung up, telling everyone he was tired and wanted to go to bed. You bid your goodbye, already feeling the anticipation begin for his arrival. You and the twins continued on with mindless conversation, sipping away at your drinks. When you cigarette pack was down to the last three, and the bottle of wine was threatening the end, Josh was ready to retire for the night, too. He was dozing off in Jake’s bed every so often, a small snore falling from his mouth periodically. You were caught up in Jake, not caring that the rest of the company had dwindled down. He was exhausted but still immersed in your conversations about nothing, and everything.

It wasn’t too long before Josh stumbled away to his own hotel room. He gave a solemn goodnight, telling you that he wished you were there with them, before he toddled away. Your cheeks were warm in the cool night air, the liquor and weed weighing heavily on you, but not any more than your tiredness.

When Jake settled into bed under the covers, as much as sleep wanted to become him, he couldn’t bring himself to close his eyes. “Are you going to bed, beautiful?” He mumbled. You couldn’t help but giggle to yourself. He was barely formulating the words, head buried so deep in the pillow you could hardly see him anymore.

“I think you probably should.” You told him, concern becoming you. “We can talk tomorrow, rockstar.”

“Don’t want to,” he mumbled “just want you here with me.” Your heart ached, hating to admit to yourself that you felt the same way.

“I know, I do too.” You finally mustered out. As much as you enjoyed talking with Jake, and as aware as you were about your feelings for him, the opening up part was proving quite difficult. You had no problem with the flirting, or the endless conversations, or even the sex talk, but telling him how you truly felt was troublesome. You weren’t sure if it was because you were scared of rejection, or because you were just scared of falling in love with him. “I miss you.” You whispered.

“I miss you too, beautiful.” He seemed more alert now, energized by the fact you’d made that proclamation first, this time.

“When can I see you again?” You picked at some frayed strings on your pants, avoiding looking at him.

“Soon, I promise. Once you finish school, I’ll take you around the world with me.” His smile brought your attention back to him. You found it impossible to look anywhere else. Your chest burned at his statement, wondering if he was being truthful or not.

“You mean it?”

“Never meant anything more in my life.” He assured you. “I hate sleeping alone, now, ‘cause I know what it’s like to sleep next to you.” You stood to go back inside, butting out your last cigarette of the night before entering through the front door and locking it behind you. You didn’t answer him until you were in your bedroom with the door closed.

“Don’t make promises you don’t mean, rockstar.” You took off your sweater and your pants, climbing into bed. The alcohol was buzzing through your veins, making your head feel a bit fuzzy. You were more than ready for bed.

“I’ve never told you anything I didn’t mean, baby.” The pet name rolled off his tongue so effortlessly, like he was meant to call you that all along, but it hit you with such an impact that you were sure it had stopped your heart for a moment. He’d called you plenty of other names, more in a compliment context, but such a domestic title was something very new. He didn’t even notice the effect it had on you; he was laying there with his eyes closed, phone only showing half of his face in the frame. When you didn’t answer, he opened one of his eyes to see what was going on. “I’m sorry, did that bother you? I wasn’t thinking,” he rushed out.

“No, Jake. It’s okay.” You reassured him. “I liked it.” A small smile creeped onto his face. You couldn’t help but return it. “I think I’m falling for you, rockstar.” You breathed after a moment too long.

“I already have, witchy woman.” His eyes were open again, watching the blush spread across your cheeks. That was the best way he could say it, because he was afraid he’d already fallen in love with you. He was glad he could at least tell you a sliver of what he was feeling for you. “I can’t wait to see you again.”

“Soon,” you said, curling up into your blankets.

“Can we stay on the phone tonight?” He asked. “I don’t want to hang up.”

“Yeah, I’d like that a lot.” You turned over, plugging your phone into the charger. You set your phone on your nightstand, propped up against a book so he could see you. He shuffled around, doing the same thing. This wasn’t the first time you’d fallen asleep with him on the phone. You hadn’t done it in a few days, though. It was nice. When the days permitted, sometimes you even got to wake up to him before he had to go. He usually waited as long as he could before hanging up so he could at least try to say good morning. If you were awake first, you did the same. You really enjoyed the little routines you two had been building together.

You both settled into your beds, rustling in the pillows and blankets to find the comfiest position. You watched your phone, wanting to soak in every second of seeing his face. “Goodnight, beautiful.” He mumbled, sleep calling to him. “Sleep well, I’ll see you in the morning.” He said it as if it were a promise.

“Goodnight, rockstar.” You whispered. His eyes fluttered closed as he bit his tongue, holding back any other words. The ‘L’ word was always so dangerously close to slipping out of his mouth. He felt so stupid, wanting to say ‘I love you’, when he’d only known you for a few weeks, but he felt like he really did. He’d never met anyone else who made him feel like you did, and it started from the minute he saw you.

Before you closed your own eyes, they drifted to the wall behind your computer desk. The record sleeve of one of Jake’s albums stood so beautifully prominent, his signature illuminated by your desk lamp. Your gaze lingered over the sharpie marks, stomach fluttering at the memory of him writing it. You fell asleep with a smile, already excited to wake up to him in the morning.

Tag list: @gvfpal @jakesgrapejuice

152 notes · View notes

crushthecore · 21 days

Text

MINOR BTW

Hey so I impulsively decided to make this blog for the purpose of making friends and uhh idk where to start do I just put my interests out there and people pop out of nowhere,^^`π¢√|ππ`°€°€ Anyways soo at the time it's 2am, so bare with me, sorry if some things are grammatically wrong or/and don't make sense, I know all of this has a bunch of errors. Kinda rushed through this all..:D

Uhh

Here's an interest board🙏 this contains like the music I like, movies, and stuff,,,tbh I have some shit in here that I haven't watched cuz of my lazy ass but I really want to, does it count😞 i am interested in it

If I'm being honest some of these aren't really my current interests, or I'm just rusty in my knowledge abt em, but I haven't been interested in some things for awhile so it would be boring if I had only a few things in there soo (I barely do anything with my life but sleep. I don't even watch shows anymore, ikik boring I'm trying to convince my mom to buy me the CSM manga at the moment though. I'll have something to yap abt, maybe.🙏🙏)

EDIT: looking back at this I forgot to include some other stuff that I'm also interested in but I forgot abt it at the time of making this... anywho I'll make an updated interest post or something if I'm motivated enough 2 do it

!! Some extra stuff that may be useful to know, to you knowww know what you're getting into. 🤔:3

Ahem ahem, I have social anxiety which means I most likely won't text you first unless I really really force myself too or/and I really like you and think you are very cool. So if u wanna be friends with me, using the anon question option thingy would be a nice first step. :D

I get attached extremely fast uhhh🤔🤔yea, oh and I'm extremely clingy so if someone texting you every 30 minutes (or minute, jkjk) sounds like a no go, than I'm not a good fit to be your friend.^_^ BUT. I also have my times where I feel like talking to no one so uhhhsidnjddj. I have no life so that's what probably contributes to me being attached to someone, maybe, probably...😇 (dumbass)

MY TIME ZONE: PDT (Pacific Daylight Time)

BEWAREE⚠️I sometimes joke around meanly so let me know if that ain't your thing, also I SOMETIMES get a little tooooo sentimental so I should probably stop playing around like that but I'll let you know if you passed a limit. Also I don't think I joke around very mean, but just to be safe. Please don't let this be a turn off. 🙏 Some examples of the jokes I may make are like "kys" and uhm yea. My minds kinda blank right now I'm getting a little tired, but my jokes consist of suicide, bombing places I don't like(school) and some other ones.So idk if it's heavilyyy offensive humor but some people don't take a liking to it so I thgouht it would be imporant to add

I feel like writing down a whole DNI list is gonna be uhh time consuming, will it take a long timr??? Some that I can name on the top of my head rn are proshippers, homophobes, and transphobes. But anyways I'll just block you if you're weird weird (in a bad way) so like age regrresors, (SFW) furries, witches, emos, oher co ol people i hsve forggteten, PLEAESRETEGD let me be ur friend 😞

I'm 14 btw,, the age range I'm aiming to become friends with is 13-16

Idk if I'd be down to be friends with people younger than 13 or older than 16, we'll see. 🤷🤷 But 13-16 people PLEASEEe INTERACT.

I'm not even kidding I'm so desperate for social interaction blehdhdhhd, I hate being an introverted socially anxious loser🤬🤬/hj :3 but please guys🙏🙏 I will worship the ground you walk on I need some friends

ONE. LASTM THING. When I talk to someone new I usually talk, uhh, formally??? Kind of, I get anxious talking to others so I'm so sorry if I seem uptight💔 I swear I'll warm up after some time, the more consistent the interactions, the faster I get used to you and warm up^^

I feel like I'm forgetting to write something else uhh, I'll update if anything important comes to my mind later, maybe (sorry for the messy formatting btw I lost all my progress when I was trying to make it pretty so I just gave up)

Well this is going to be embarrassing if this doesn't have any results errmmfjfjfjjffi I had been contemplating on doing this for awhile, praying to God at least one person reaches out 🙏🙏

I don't even believe in that mf ☹️

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLE /ref

23 notes · View notes

bigfan-fanfic · 3 months

Text

Writing Game 1.1: Simple

Prompt: Picnic Pairing: Bruce Wayne/Clark Kent

Thank you to the 87 wonderful freaks who voted on my lil poll! I hope you enjoy the first of nine little short fics for this first round!

"Y'know, traditionally, picnics don't involve so much... silver." Clark chuckles, gesturing at the chilled silver tureen of fruit, the mahogany charcuterie board, and the few cloche-covered platters of sandwiches, profiteroles, and chocolate covered strawberries laid out as they take a picnic in the gardens on the grounds of Wayne Manor.

Bruce gives a smirk, his dark blue eyes twinkling. He leans across Clark, enjoying the way the farmboy blushes as he glances down where Bruce's shirt creases at the open button. "That so? I wasn't aware you were a picnic aficionado."

"Oh, hush." Clark chuckles, pushing ever so gently against Bruce's chest to move him back to his side of the plush red patterned carpet laid down beneath them in the garden - probably some material like cashmere.

"Truthfully, I... may have gone a bit overboard." Bruce admitted. "Despite my extensive training, I am... rusty with my culinary skills."

"Wait, you're telling me part of your Batman training was cooking?"

Bruce levels an unamused look at the astonished Kansan.

"Sorry. Carry on."

"I just... sometimes I can go overboard when it comes to extravagance, to cover up the inadequacy I feel at the basic level."

"You're charming enough at parties." Clark muses, observing Bruce, watching him make a conscious attempt to remain open in his body language, to defy the instinct telling him to conceal his emotions. It was adorable how hard he had to try to be vulnerable.

"It's easier when I'm playing a role. When I'm Bruce Wayne, the socialite, the Prince of Gotham, it's no different than playing the role of Matches Malone, or any other aliases. I can throw myself into the character. When I'm stripped of pretense... I'm woefully incomplete."

"Well, that's just not true."

Bruce rolls his eyes. "You really think that? My deficiencies in simply making a meal for myself without Alfred's aid, my failures as a parent and mentor, my lack of skill in basic socialization-"

"When you make yourself into a checklist, you're bound to leave some stuff out. You look at yourself with such a critical eye, you're bound to see all the flaws before the good. If nothing else, that just goes to show how self aware you are." Clark smiles, gently plucking a chilled square of watermelon.

"Leave it to you to turn my self-pitying musings into a complement."

Clark smiles, using a black cloth napkin monogrammed with a gold W to catch the juices of the fruit running down his chin. "Pa always used to try and freak me out. He said if you swallow a black watermelon seed, you'd grow a watermelon in your stomach."

Bruce raises an eyebrow. "I haven't heard about that."

"It's not true. In fact, it's not even anecdotally true; nothing will happen, they're not even slightly toxic, like apple seeds. It's just some random thing we used to say or believe. Like that you shouldn't swim right after eating."

Bruce doesn't talk about his parents. Just as a general rule. And he doesn't now, even though he can probably tell that Clark is wondering if Bruce's dad would've told him these silly little lies, or any of the other countless common parental platitudes. Clark is a deeply empathetic person, and it hurts him to imagine that Bruce never got to be with his parents. It's not even the same kind of situation as him with Jor-El and Lara, who are still somewhat strangers to him - he still had parents. Still had Ma and Pa. And Bruce had Alfred, but it couldn't be the same.

Clark looks at him and instead says, "Can I have a hug?"

And Bruce looks startled, but obliges him. Gracefully, fluidly rises and practically straddles Clark, embracing him. Clark sighs happily and leans back until he's lying down, Bruce on top of him, pulled into an inadvertent kiss.

They kiss for a while, then lie together looking straight up, watching the clouds drift by in the sunlight. A brilliant day, not even just by Gotham standards. Bruce still isn't sure that Clark didn't fly up there before the picnic to ensure the perfect weather.

"I don't mind how extravagant you are. I think it's just how you show love. And besides, I know you don't really mind how plain I am."

"I envy it. I wish I could be simpler, I just... don't know how."

"I don't need you simple, silly. I just need you."

"That's exactly the kind of sugary sweetness I expect from you."

"Why, I do believe I'm growing on ya, Mister Wayne."

Bruce looks at him. Clark looks back. He can see Bruce steeling himself, preparing. And he lets out a very, almost comically, serious...

"I love you."

Clark allows himself one second of pure shock, realizing just how much it took from Bruce to say that, finally.

"I love you too."

Bruce's hand finds its way into Clark's, and they stare into the sky until the sun starts to set and the honeybees start coming for the fruit left uneaten.

Some things, it seems, truly are that simple.

#writing game #bruce wayne x clark kent #superbat #dc headcanons #headcanons #i love the idea that bruce really wants to express his emotions #but it's just a mental block for him #and clark is just content to move at his pace #and they love each other

46 notes · View notes

bokunosoul · 9 months

Note

Hiiii ur head canons are literally so good could u make an actual story for the undertaker one from ur “Black Butler men as cliché love tropes pt. 2” post?? It’s too good😏

Once upon a Victorian love story

AN : Oh god this request was like 2 years ago, im so sorry i had a writers block and an unmotivated self ): So i hope this long one shot will be acceptable.

Warnings : This was before undertaker becomes a funeral director, typo errors, reader is sent bac kin the 1800s, angst, past lovers au, abuse, messed up shit in the era, death, im using "adrian crevan" as undertaker's name for this au but it's not official yet (only a theory)

I was sitting the the bus for what seems like eternity now. It was the day of the most awaited college fieldtrip for your history major, everyone is exempted in the finals. Except you need to join this trip and write a thousand words essay to pass.

“Hey y/n!” i turn my head to my friend Samantha who is my seatmate for this trip. "Just in time!" she was panting heavily and i sighed. She was always like this, a last minute go'er kinda girl.

A minute later the professor started doing a roll call for each students---everyone was present. After that the bus started hitting the road, i turn to the bus window and just grabbed my airpods on and listened to some music to pass time whilst watching the view.

Two hours later, we arrived at the outskirts of London. The road was getting narrow and narrow as it reaches the misty forest. Crows flock and squawked around the huge gate of the museum which gave off an mysterious aura at the place. Intriguing.

The huge rusty gate opens automatically and your classmates started filming the place as the bus enters the museum. It has amazing landscape and a castle-like exterior that was well maintained. It was amazing on how it was preserved for 150+ years.

"Ah, Mr. Brown! welcome! welcome!" an elderly man wearing a butler's outfit greets our professor. They seemed to be well acquainted with each other as they hugged each other.

Samantha drags me away in front of the students gathering which a tour guide was calling the attention of all the students. "Welcome to the Phantomhive museum students of the University of England! I am Oliver Smith your official tour guide for this trip." he says and continues making a speech on how about this museum is actually a manor back in the victorian era, where a earl used to live in.

The tour guide leads the steps to the museum and the huge oak doors were already opened, inside it was a floor filled with black and white marbled floor, Greek columns, ceiling decked with lighted chandeliers that made you look in awe, paintings hanged up on the wall on top of the dark oak grand staircase.

You followed the guide upstairs again, which led to a dimly lit hallway which the only light source is the windows. I took out my camera and took photos of several victorian artifacts to document and write about.

After that, the tour guide let us roam around the manor but gave off an warning on prohibited activities such as trespassing the locked rooms, touching the objects and a bunch of other stuff. I walked away and looked around which i ended up suddenly seperated from my friend.

Being bored, you decided to just wander around the museum. You suddenly felt a familiar presence, you stopped and look directly at the gigantic painting encased in gold on top of a fire place. There was a man whom dressed in black holding a scythe of death with a peculiar look of smile on his face and a woman on his side who seems to be in a casket laying beautiful in white.

You found yourself looking the the masterpiece intensely "She is beautiful as always even in her last breath." i turn to look at beside me, it was a man with ominous black hair, maybe a bit older than you and was wearing a butler outfit radiating an peculiar aura. Maybe he's another tour guide? i said to myself

I just stood there frozen feeling a wav of familiarity and longing whilst looking at the painting "Adrian Crevan, he used to be the lord Phantomhive's informant. Well, we prefer calling him 'Undertaker' because that was he's known for. Handling corpses and being a funeral director." the man chuckled, and he turns to look at you and smile.

I just stood there frozen, my mind started go hazy and a sharp pain came crashing in your head and unknown memories started coming back from the past.

It all turned black. That's what i remembered.

Somewhere in the 1800s. --------

"Lady y/n, it's time." my maid Laura says behind me. I sighed and turned around to see her holding a whale bone corset. I raised my arms and let her put on the garment which makes

It was my mother's funeral and i have no energy on whatsoever to dress up and even think right. You did not even need this corset anymore because you don't have the appetite to eat. After finishing on putting on the mourning dress and veil i went outside where my carriage was already waiting, with my father inside it.

He was stern looking as always, but behind that façade of his you knew that he was ecstatic. Afterall he lost all the dignity after taking your mother's last name which made him feel emasculated which resulted to him---having affairs, abusive and absent.

My mother was a weak woman, i must admit. She was bound to die before reaching the age of 40 due to her having pneumonia. Despite this, even when she was sick, she was the one guiding you throughout my childhood. When her body can't take it anymore i was getting guidance from my aunt who is my governess.

At just 37 years old before my 18th birthday, yesterday, she passed away peacefully at night. Right here you could not even cry and remain emotionless, all this was not easily to process in just one day. You were in denial.

I just stood there watching my father shed crocodile tears at his speech on how my mother was a loving wife to him and a bunch of other nonsense that happened to them that did not even happened.

Everyone else was crying pathetically. She was born to die, why would anyone be this surprised? An hour later after the mass, your mother's coffin was brought to the cemetery to lay rest beside her late parents grave.

You just watch it get dumped in with the soil and the mourners throwing a white rose as it gets buried. I walked off as i threw the flower on it. My body felt heavy as i feel my tears started swelling in my eyes and i took off running to hide in the cemetery's nearby garden.

I started hysterically crying eventually falling down on my knees whilst clutching a portrait of my late mother. You could only thank the rain and thunder for now as no one can hear your wailing.

"My, my why is a lady doing here crying alone?" a voice mixed with teasing says. I turn around to see a man with long ash hair wearing a long black suit with glasses.

I sniffled and just wailed again and again until no tears started to come out of my eyes and i just sat on the ground numb from all of the pain while the man just stared at you blankly.

You started getting pissed off as he stares at you "What is your problem, why are you staring!?" i growled at him, he laughs and mumbles an explanation that you could not understand and i stood up and stormed away.

He grabs your hand and gives you something out of his pocket which seemed like a chain. I turn to him and opened my palms. My eyes widened at the sight "T-this!...."

"Your mother asked me to give this to you as a keepsake." the man says, his face stoic. Meanwhile i looked at the locket with my late mother's hair on it emotionally and smiled. Your father did not allow you to keep a memory of your mother, hence burning down all of the photographs, paintings, letters and clothes---every memory of your mother's existence.

The man started walking away "S-sir! wait!" i stopped him. He stops and turn around "W-what's your name?" i asked him stuttering. The man smiled "Adrian Crevan, the grim reaper." he says nonchalantly in a silly way that made you chuckle.

"Thank you, Mr. Adrian the grim reaper...?" i jokingly said while wiping my tears and bow at him in respect. He nods before walking away. You secretly hoped that you see each other again.

Two months later you started healing from the passing of your mother and going out more to balls that your invited too.

I stepped out of the carriage and twinkled at the sight of the beautiful mansion in front of me which belonged to the Duke who is part of the royal family. I stood in line of the guests infront of the door who are waiting for their names to be announced.

"Lady y/n of house l/n!" i thanked the man and stepped forward inside the hall wearing my lavish green silk ballgown and curtsied. Every woman stared me with envy, meanwhile men stared at me with lustful eyes.

This was normal since i was not betrothed to anyone at the moment and married men are taking advances with me to take me as their bride or mistress.

I greeted them respectfully but declined them, it was tiring. Honestly.

I found myself surrounded by women flaunting their riches at me. I wish I'd be deaf right now, it's annoying. You slipped away from them and took an glass of champagne from the table and walked towards the empty halls of the mansion just admiring the moonlight outside of the window. I flinched when i suddenly heard an loud thud near the empty grand staircase in the 2nd floor.

I walked towards where i heard the noise. You held your breath as you saw a young woman's body down the stairs, her head has pool of blood forming, and eyes in shock. I held my mouth as i saw the scene. I could not even move, i was frozen from my spot.

A man then appeared from the scene all dressed in black suit, long ash grey hair and glasses holding a scythe. I recognize that man! he was that peculiar guy from your mother's funeral that gave the locket!

He glanced at you but doesn't seem to care and just slashed the dead woman's body. I closed my eyes firmly at the sight. I took a bit of a peek, but instead of seeing a more bloody scenes it was different.

It was like a cinematic record, but not a movie---but someone's memories in their point of view. It continued on forever and ever until it reaches the end of the tape which has the word 'END' on it.

The reaper looks at you curiously "Why aren't you running away my lady?" he asks and folds the cinematic record neatly and put it into his pocket.

I was left speechless, am i going crazy?

"W-what just happened?" I gulped and he rests his scythe on his shoulders "I just reap people souls my lady, im what you called---death." he stated and grabs your waist swiftly and once you opened your eyes you were floating in the sky gracefully.

"Oh god! this is unsafe!" i screeched and held on to him tight not looking down on the ground since you're afraid of heights. A few moments in floating in the air you both landed on the ground.

He chuckled "Humans like you are really interesting, it's been a while Lady y/n~" he commented and kissed my hands, which made me blush. The man smiles at you and you two sat in an empty bench.

"w-WHAT JUST HAPPENED?!" i asked, still in shock and shook the man, he started laughing "You just saw me doing my 'job' and flew!" h e replied.

I hold my head to process on what just happened, maybe i'm just too drunk? I asked him all of my questions on who, what, where, when and why---all of the possible questions. Well that lead to you to getting more interested in each other that birthed to friendship of a human and grim reaper.

Then a relationship a few months later.

You and Adrian are both happy with each other. Every after he finished his job you two would secretly meet up. He would tease you all the time and brought you on top of the big ben at London on a full moon to have a date. The man was also a clingy person who likes to see humorous stuff all the time. Even if he's not a normal person that doesn't stop you both, but this is the day you will finally introduce him formally to your father.

He was ecstatic and positive as you two both enter your manor to greet your father the Lord of house l/n.

"Father, meet my significant other Adrian."

Your father looked at him sternly and was silent, he just sat there and eat his roasted duck.

"F-father did you not he----." he threw the cutlery directly at adrian's face, making him bleed. The grim reaper did not flinched, not feeling any pain as the knife gashed his face leaving a slash "W-What have you've done!" i screamed as i took out my handkerchief and held it on his bleeding face.

"Did i not tell you to not go whoring off with lowly men like your slutty mother! YOU ARE A SHAME TO THE HOUSE OF L/N!" my father raises his voice making you flinch and your eyes swell up with tears.

"Y/n, i'm okay." the man stood up and frowns unamused "I can' t believe a man like you became my future wife's father." he says disappointed and held you close as his face was still bleeding.

"Future wife? are you joking!? Y/n you will get married to Lord Wallace in 5 months! are you crazy!?" father yells "I DO NOT WANT TO MARRY SOMEONE I DONT KNOW AND LOVE FATHER!" i retaliated and walked towards him sobbing.

Adrian stares at you in shock and pulled you away from your father who is forcing you to go inside your room.

"A-adrian...i don't want to marry someone else..." i sobbed in his arms and he clenched his jaw hugging you tightly. It was painful. I don't want this to end.

The last thing you knew was you two hugging on what seems like an eternity, you two both crying. He let's go of your hand and tried to chase after him but failed as your servants stop you chasing after your love.

He just walked away just like that. He just walked away on our relationship. He promised that he will come back after me. Determined. One week. Two weeks. Three weeks. Four weeks. turned into a month. Then five.

I found myself wearing my wedding gown holding a bouquet of white roses whilst emotionlessly walking down the aisle.

He promised that he will love me. He promised that he will marry me when the time comes. He promised that we will run away together. He promised...

It was painful kissing another man. Just get through it, and i imagined that my love was the one i was marrying. But it was harder than i thought. Disgusting. It was disgusting on how this man look at you like a doll full of lust.

'Ten years have passed. I still haven't gotten over my greatest love. I sometimes wonder on what if he came back to me. I'm turning 29 now, i have 2 boys now and a little girl whom i gave birth to just two months ago. Well, life was not easy, my husband was a good for nothing like my father who is a scandalous and greedy man who brought multiple women in our home. I still have hope that we will meet each other again.'

I closed my diary and hid it on my drawer. I hear my daughter, Adie crying in her crib. I quickly took her out from the crib and carried her to stop her from crying.

"Shhh, don't cry.." i kissed her rosy cheeks and laid her to the crib again admiring my precious child.

I sighed and went to get dressed to go to another soiree that my husband was at to accompany him "Lady y/n, your carriage is ready." the maid said behind the door. I grabbed my mink coat and went to the carriage.

It seems that it was raining heavily outside. I hope it's just rain.

"Mama where are you going?" your eldest son Andrew asks "Could we go with you mama?" Allan chimes in, my second eldest. I kissed their cheeks "I will go accompany your father at the soiree, my darlings. Children are not allowed."

They groaned and whined at your reply. You bid them goodbye and entered the carriage. Your husband was already inside and has his eyes glued onto the window, this was normal and doesn't even surprise you anymore.

The rain was getting heavier and heavier as minutes have passed. The carriage has entered the steep road on the way to enter the Druitt estate where the soiree will be held. It suddenly came into a halt when you the carriage stopped and the coachmen screamed in horror. I stared at the window and it was a group of masked bandits.

Wallace, my husband opens the window "Oi! why the fuck did you stop were going to be late!" he scolded the coachmen. Bang! Bang! the bandits shot the coachmen and footman. I held my breath and ducked my head, scared. I look over to Wallace and he was in fear.

The leader of the group comes over at my side "Lord Wallace eh? your wife is a beautiful woman!" he pulled your chin to your chin. I looked over at the man, disgusted while crying.

"H-how dare you kill Mr. Clark and jameson!" i raised my voice looking over at the bloody corpses of our two servants. "TAKE HER! SPARE ME SIR!" my eyes widened as my husband pushes me over at the bandit and took off with one of the carriage horses. I stared at the man in horror "Your husband really is a coward you know?" he chuckled and drags you outside of the carriage in the pouring rain.

BANG! The leader shot your husband through the head with his pistol. His body dropped dead on the mud and the horse he was riding gallops away into the forest.

"W-why? why are you doing this--" you felt a sharp pain in your chest as the man looks at you smirking and twisting the dagger in you. All you can see is blood soaked in your pink dress, the bandit snatches your jewelry in your body as you stared at him emotionless. He took out the dagger out of your chest and pushes you off the wet ground.

This is how will i die huh? What about my children.....my ambitions....my Adrian....i want to see him one last time..

"Y-y/n..." a familiar voice says. My eyes widened at the sight, i struggled to speak up words, i wish i could tell him how much i have missed him dearly, how i long for him.

He still looked the same as ever. Handsome, even with the scar your father left him in your face. I weakly flashed a smile at him as he hold me close in his embrace, sobbing.

"I....i-i....love..you..so...much..."

She speaks up holding his face, i leaned to him close and our lips met. For one last time on what seems like an eternity that you wished that could continue forever. The woman closes her eyes smiling peacefully as the cinematic record started playing.

He hugs her close sobbing under the rain angrily. He hates this. You and him were lovers, you were both forbidden to each other. If only he was a human.

-----------------------------------------------

I opened my eyes slowly "W-what happened?" i asked and turn to my friend, Samantha. She looks concerned at you "Y/n you collapsed at the 2nd floor, Mr. Brown found you and took you to the museum's clinic." Samantha sobbed and held your hand.

"I think im okay now, i want to go rest in the bus." i said and stood up from the bed, your friend nods and guides you to go back to your bus seat outside.

As you were going down the stairs Mr. Brown approaches you "Ah, Miss Y/N are you doing fine now?" he asks, i nodded and thanked him profusely for his help. He smiles devilishly and grabs something out of his pocket and gave it to you.

I looked at my hand. It was a locket, with a picture of you beloved and me.

"Memento mori, remember you must die."

A/N : I might revise this if i had the time, this was so rushed since i was so excited in posting these.

#black butler x reader #black butler #black butler scenario #kuroshitsuji x you #kuroshitsuji x reader #kuroshitsuji #black butler headcanons #undertaker #yana toboso #undertaker x reader #kuroshitsuji x yn

65 notes · View notes

inkblot22 · 4 months

Text

The Same As Always

So I can already hear it. If I'm so scared of Rook, why am I always writing about him? That's because fear makes me nut, and I'm horny on side (this is not my main blog lmao) Also I'm so sorry, I cannot remember who made this divider since I downloaded it a few years ago, so if it's yours please let me know and I will credit you! This is kind of a reimagining of events based on that very loose series I have floating around on my page (He Begs Not For Petulance) so I hope it comes across as well as those.

Who is this fic for? I tried to keep it very gender-neutral, so hopefully anyone who can handle it. I apologize, since Rook does use the masculine version of most pet names in this (cheri instead of cherie, etc) but it's less feminizing than him referring to the reader as "ma biche" or "ma coccinelle", so that's just how that goes. It is a shame, but I also stayed away from "mon nounours" because that is also a bit too gendered. Very cute, though.

Anyways, this fic is DEAD DOVE, DO NOT EAT. It's not as dark as my usual stuff, but that's not saying much. TW for noncon (touching and sa), knifeplay, blood, head injuries (accidental), captivity, and yandere. Also rusty, probably incorrect French and Rook Hunt, of course. I don't add translations because I feel like if the reader doesn't know all or any of what he's saying, it adds to the creep factor.

You don’t like it here. You think you don’t, at least. It’s hard to explain.

It’s winter, it has been for far too long. Maybe you’ve been here for a bit too long as well. It’s hard to keep track of time, since the sun seems to never rise wherever you are.

You can’t exactly remember how you got here. You remember the wagon. You’d needed quick travel through the mountains, but you also can’t remember where you were traveling. You remember everything going dark, waking up to see a blood-stained stone before you, feeling the warmth on your forehead and wondering where the wagon had gone. Your first thought was that you were now in a survival situation as it began to snow around you, the snowflakes dancing in the wind that found its way inside your loose clothing. You stood there for a moment, maybe, and then you started walking, and from there it all goes black.

You can definitely remember the first time you saw him. You were lying in an unfamiliar bed, something snug around your forehead. A candle cast a warm, quiet light into the room, and it burned through your eyelids, your vision a murky orange-pink until you opened your eyes and came face to face with… him.

Flaxen hair, a soft smile as he reached forward to caress your cheek, and most of all, those intense jade eyes. You jumped and immediately felt woozy, but you were confused enough to pay that little mind.

The man shushed you, gently pulling you back into a relaxed position and cooing at you as though you were a small child, “Ah-ah, fear not, mon cheri, you are no longer in death’s grasp. Do you remember your name or how you’ve gotten here?”

You couldn’t answer him at first. His eyes narrowed, the rest of his face still a pleasant mask, and he eased you onto your back, your head against the pillow.

“Fret not, mon petit. How about I tell you my name, and then you can decide if you’d like to tell me yours?” His voice was quiet when he spoke to you, and you noticed that there was a large knife sheath snug on his thigh.

You were still bewildered. You couldn’t connect any of the dots that had led you to this moment, and it was making your heart beat a bit too fast for your liking. The stranger smiled wider and squeezed your trembling hand.

“Je m’appelle Rook Hunt, le chasseur d’amour. I found you wandering aimlessly in this forest, the life pouring from your head like a faucet. You passed out in my arms, and brought you here.”

You didn’t remember wandering around. You could remember getting up, but you didn’t remember wandering around. Your hand comes up to your forehead, the soft bandages rubbing against your fingertips. When you looked back at Rook, you tried to figure out what you should say. Your tongue felt thick in your mouth.

“I… I’m kinda thirsty.”

Rook smiled ever wider and stood, and you got the chance to look around a bit more. You seemed to be in a small log cabin, the bed in a sort of nook, away from the rest of the cabin. You could see Rook from where you were, his back facing you as he poured you a cup of water. The kitchen area was open, but small, a table with three chairs right next to it, and you could sort of see a pretty ornate looking rug, but as you were looking at it, Rook returned and helped you into a seated position.

He held the cup for you as you drank. When you finished, he placed the cup on the table and stroked your cheek, still smiling. His actions towards you were awfully familiar, as though you were old friends or something.

“Where am I?”

“A little cabin in the woods.” Rook didn’t remove his hand from your cheek. His gloved thumb was so gentle against your cheek. “Why don’t you get some rest? You lost quite a bit of blood, cheri.”

You did feel tired… and even though you were confused, it was almost as though a spell was cast on you, lulling you back to sleep.

You’re almost certain you don’t like it here. Although he never said anything to you about it, it became somewhat clear that you couldn’t leave once you felt well enough to move around again. At least you were moving, though.

It was also at this point that Rook began leaving the cabin often. It left you bored, not that his form of entertainment was a good one, and you started cooking to alleviate that boredom. You couldn’t really recall if you were good at it before, but you were decent enough to make basic stuff, so you did. For some reason, Rook had an icebox, not a refrigerator. You didn’t know what it was at first, and you felt like it was rude to open random cabinets in a strange man’s cabin, so you left it alone until he informed you that there were usually fresh vegetables inside.

You’d sit next to the potbelly stove and sip tea as you stared out the window at the snow. This winter was going on for far too long, and it always seemed to be dark here, but you didn’t know where “here” was.

Rook would stomp back in, snow caked along the feather in his hat and melting off the brim, and he’d cast you a smile before swishing into the basement. When he’d return, he’d guide you back to the bed and sit at the table himself, writing furiously… until recently.

Last night, he’d led you back to the bed after checking your wound and changing the bandage, but instead of taking a seat at the table and writing, he slipped into the bed beside you. You didn’t know it at the time, but this would be the precedent for the rest of your life.

“What are you doing-”

“Shh, shh. Relax, cheri. I will recite a poem for you.” He curled his arms around you, holding your aching head to his chest as he whispered.

“What?” You were fatigued, still recovering from your injury, but you struggled to break out of his hold anyway.

He shushed you again, his deceptively slim arms keeping you immobile, and then he began to speak, quiet and steady, “My darling is silent. Quiet as the night.”

“R-Rook…”

He continued speaking as though you hadn’t said anything at all, “Mon orilles sont pauvres faute de sa douce voix.

As I look at that sweet face,

Beautiful as a flower, as the moon, as the blood in our veins,

Je me sens seule dans ma peau.”

You… are not amazing at French. A small English to French dictionary was left on the table whenever Rook left, but reading made your head swim, pangs of pain so bad that you had to rest immediately. But, from what little you understood, the man who had saved you from a cold death outside seemed to have something worse planned for you, if you were in fact this “darling” he spoke of.

You definitely do not like it here. You’d made the mistake of pushing Rook’s increasing affections away every chance you got, resulting in him reading your reluctance to be around him as hostility. You’d gone to cut some vegetables and found that all the knives were replaced with children’s safety cutlery. While you could very well still cause damage with them, you couldn’t do anything life-threatening without a lot of effort and no fighting back. The serrated plastic edges were only good for cutting through the flesh of fruits and tender meats, and the rounded tips meant you couldn’t really pierce anything.You couldn’t even skin a fish that Rook came back with, he did it with his hunting knife after watching you struggle for an irritatingly long time.

And then there’s the cellar. You had taken a nap after trying to read and woken up, the sky dark as usual and a terrifying grinding, clunking noise coming up from the basement. You felt like you needed to hide, so you did. You crawled under the bed and waited, the basement door flying open and a few more candles getting lit echoing as the grinding noise- the sound of something big and heavy being dragged- moved further back towards the area of the cabin that you didn’t go in usually. There wasn’t much over there except for a wardrobe, and you didn’t like opening cabinets here. It stopped being about politeness a while ago, and had turned into the fear of finding something you didn’t like.

When you heard the front door open and close, felt the frigid rush of air that entered the cabin, you felt like you were frozen as well. You couldn’t move as you heard the sound of water being poured, and you worried for a while that you would start to feel the wooden floor beneath you grow cold and wet. Instead of wet floors, however, you saw Rook’s feet- you could only tell because of the freckle that peeps over his sock on his left leg and the fine blond hairs prickling from his skin- in your narrow window of vision from where you were cowering.

“Cheri… come out from under there.”

You did, but you did so slowly. As soon as you were no longer under the bed, Rook pulled you to your feet and looked at your face. He’d never made such a serious expression before, not that you’d seen, and it made you feel a bit panicked.

“R-Rook, what was all that noise?”

His face smoothed and he let go of you, then he waved towards the dark corner of the cabin.

“I’ve run a bath. The water is warm, lapin, so you’d best get in before it cools.”

You did feel grimy, and since you were okay with standing and walking around for longer periods of time now, as compared to the first few weeks you were here, you jumped at the prospect of getting clean. You quickly undressed, knowing it was dark enough that Rook probably couldn’t see you, and climbed into the warm water. You couldn’t see if there was any soap, but as you were squinting into the darkness, kneeling in the tub as you leaned forward over the side, you felt something brush against your back. When you turned around, you shrieked like an owl and had a very intense internal dilemma.

Rook was seated in the tub behind you, or in front of you now, since you were facing him. He produced a bar of soap and began washing himself, dipping his head under the water so he could wash his hair as well. You couldn’t help but blankly stare at him, eyes wide as he acted so casual. This had been a problem for a while, actually, but never so severe as this. Rook was overly familiar with you, he touched you as though you had been married or were close friends, and apparently now he thought it was fine for you to share a bath. His eyes met yours in the dark corner, and he possibly smirked. You couldn’t quite see, but you could hear it in his voice.

“Ah, mon cher, did you need the soap? But you can’t see very well, can you? Come and let me wash your supple skin.”

A moment before he said that, you were debating if you should get out of the tub or something. You couldn’t tell if it’d be better to be ogled as you dressed or if staying under the water would give you a bit more modesty. After he said that, his arms reaching for you, you began to stand up. Although it was dark, you still saw his eyes flash, saw a slight movement in his wrist, and you were brought to your knees. It felt as though vines were wrapped around you, and you tilted forwards into your captor’s chest as your balance failed you in the dark water of the tub.

This man was a mage. You didn’t think you’d ever met one before, but you couldn’t remember. You wailed and begged for him to let you go as he began to gently wash you, but he simply shushed you and pressed a kiss to the crown of your head.

You absolutely hate it here. As you chopped carrots for the stew you had decided to make, you wondered where you were from or where you were going, and hoped someone knew you had never shown up and was looking for you. You didn’t think that was the case, however.

“That does smell divine, trickster.” Rook said, walking up the stairs from the basement, “Et vous êtes terriblement mignonne, portant ce petit tablier adorable et préparant le dîner…”

“I can’t cut the meat well with this. Can I have an actual knife, please?”

Rook didn’t answer, leaning against the wall and watching as you chopped the carrots with some difficulty. He looked pleased, though whether it was with you or the situation remained to be known. When he finally pushed off of the wall, he wrapped one arm around your front, burying his face in your hair as his other hand slid down your thigh.

“Get off of me!” You tried to slash his arm with the knife, but it barely even scratched his skin, and the hand that was resting on your waist came up to crush your dominant hand so you’d drop the knife.

Panic spiked through your veins as he slipped his hand up your leg so he could slide it in the waistband of the pants you were wearing. His hand that was crushing yours lowered to hold your wrist against the counter.

You’d never tried this before, but when his lips pressed against your neck, you felt your breath hitch and you let out a desperate cry for help.

Rook laughed in response and nipped your neck, his teeth pinching your skin between them. His hand in your waistband smoothed down your pelvis to gently massage your sex, and you screamed again, thrashing and flailing so he would let you go.

Despite him never quite showing this side of him to you before, Rook was something of a strategist. As far as you could tell, it hadn’t been that long since you’d gotten here, if your head injury was anything to measure time by.

“Relax, ma crevette. You are still recovering, no? Allow this lowly hunter to take care of your body.”

Your head hurt and you felt dizzy as he stoked your arousal. A disconnect between your mind and body grew into a chasm and you began to bawl as a pressure built up in your core. Your head was spinning, it felt as though your brain was throbbing, and you shuddered and wept as Rook peppered kisses on your cheek. He had you pressed solidly against the counter, his body keeping you more or less still. His breath was hot on your skin, and you felt like you were in hell.

“Come, trickster. The soup can wait. Je dois t'avoir.”

“No!”

Rook paid you little heed as he dragged you backwards towards the bed, and while you were expecting him to just throw you onto it before he assaulted you, he gently swept you off of your feet and laid you down. That was where his mercy ended, however, if it could even be called mercy here. That knife that was pressed to his thigh, still warm from his skin and him doing whatever he did in the basement, was quickly unsheathed and trailed lightly up your sternum.

“Not struggling any longer, mon petit lapin? I’m glad to see you’ve come to your senses.” His blade slid back down and he used a finger to help hook it under the hem of your shirt, cutting through the fabric as though it was nothing, “And I am sure you must be confused, but a little… exercise is good for your condition.”

You wanted to vomit, but Rook’s gloved hand cupped your chin. His knife felt cold against your now bare skin, and your breath hitched as you sucked in and held it, your eyes looking down at where Rook had his knife.

One of his leather-covered fingers tapped your cheek, and you looked back up at him. He smiled sweetly and sat up a bit, his blade still pressed flat against your stomach, right over your navel. He caught the fingertip of his glove in his teeth and yanked that glove off, tossing it to the side and passing the knife to his now bare hand. As he leaned forward to hover over you once more, his knife pressed under your chin and his gloved hand slipped into your pants, shifting lower than your crotch to prod at your poor ass. You closed your legs tighter in panic, and Rook tutted at you as though you were an unruly child.

“Come now, cheri, you should relax.” He whispered, leaning closer to press a kiss against your forehead, where you’d hit your head and how you’d gotten into this whole mess. “Plus vous êtes tendu, plus la douleur est forte…”

“D-don’t do this, don’t-” Your voice sounded so shaky, and you realized that you were trembling. Every time you made the slightest movement, you could feel the sharp edge of Rook’s hunting knife against your chin.

“Open your legs, Trickster. I’m not touching you for my benefit… although your faces of bewilderment and pleasure are quite sweet.” His finger circled the tight ring of muscle around your anus and you slowly relaxed.

“Wh-why are you d-doing…?”

Rook smiled sweetly and removed his finger from your anus slowly, instead dragging your pants down your legs and relaxing his hand with the knife against your neck. When your lower half was mostly bare above the knee, he pressed two fingers into your ass and slowly massaged you from the inside, tilting his head as his face fell.

“After I graduated from NRC, I did not think I’d see your darling little form again. It was a welcome surprise… but I don’t suppose you know what I’m talking about.” He mused, reaching over your head to grab something. He opened the little bottle with one hand, the slippery liquid cold on your asshole as he resumed his gentle fingering, “You don’t remember me in the least. Do you?”

You felt so woozy and scared, but it explained so much if he knew you… but that didn’t matter. He was still a stranger to you, and one who was currently preparing to do more terrible things to you.

“Heh… I did think so.” Rook quickly unbuckled his pants and tugged them down just enough to free himself. He pulled back away from you to seat your thighs on his own, his cock slowly inching into your poor hole. His knife slid away from your neck but remained in his grip as he slowly slid his hips forward, his opposite hand holding your ass.

Your vision was white for a moment, and when it returned it was blurry. Were you crying? You could hear loud, shuddery breathing, and it took a moment for you to figure out that it was coming from you. Rook sighed peacefully, as though this was a walk in the park for him.

“Aw… I do not enjoy harming you, trickster.” Rook murmured, his hips slowly beginning their undulating motion. He shushed your pained sounds, “This is my love for you. You’ve only grown more beautiful these past few years.”

You winced and pushed against him, your feet shifting so you could try to kick him away, and his knife came back to rest against your collarbones. His hips rocked a little faster, every pump leaving a burning stretch that only felt like it doubled over onto itself.

“Did you know? How I felt for you, how I longed for your touch all those years ago? These three on my own… they have been l'écrasement de l'âme. I’ve had far too much time to- Putain, tu n'es pas du tout détendu…” Rook wheezed and grunted, dark and low.

You felt a pit in your lower belly, and you grabbed the wrist that had the knife, your watering eyes wide as you looked up at this man who apparently knew you.

“Please, petit, you have to… fuck- you must unclench, or this will not last much longer.”

His demand was probably one of the most ridiculous things you’d heard. You couldn’t relax. He had a knife to your throat, he was rearranging your guts, and he had chosen just now to inform you that he was aware of at least a portion of your past. You made this strange whining shriek noise, and Rook’s hand holding the knife slipped ever so slightly.

It was unclear as to whether or not he did that on purpose, especially since he removed the blade from your skin and lasciviously lapped at the small cut on your collarbone, his lips trailing up to your ear.

“Préparez-vous, car je vais déposer mon amour dans votre estomac en attente.”

The sentence itself was honestly quite jarring, but Rook groaned loudly into your ear and nearly folded you in half as he came inside of your ass. It felt hot and sickly, and the musky smell of Rook’s skin and sex permeated the room. Your head panged, woozy throbs that made your stomach churn. Rook dragged his body up and gently teased your sex with his gloved fingertips, his murky green eyes glued to yours.

“Wh-”

“Did you truly think I would not give you the same bliss you have given me?” He mumbled, “You really don’t remember me, then.”

As he pulled out of you and stroked you to your own orgasm, he smiled sadly.

"Don't worry, trickster. You will remember in time."

28 notes · View notes

grimyandereencantosimp · 9 months

Note

Hey could you do some HCS about Mirabel with a punk/into punk culture s/o?

(Love this one! Not me posting this and pretending I haven't not uploaded for months now.)

Yandere Mirabel with a punk s/o

Tw: Jealous yandere, obsessive yandere, unhealthy obsession, yandere themes.

Mirabel obviously accepts you for who you are, and loves you either way.

She's fascinated by your punk look, your hair, makeup, etc.

She might even help you with these sorts of things sometimes.

Maybe even make or buy stuff for you?

She can go overboard with buying/making stuff for you.

But you don't mind much.

She can get a little more jealous then usual though.

Or even slightly more obsessive.

Which is the downside.

But don't forget Mirabel does love you!

(I am so sorry if this sucks, my writing skills are rusty since I haven't written for THAT long.)

#yandere x reader #yandere #encanto #yandere encanto #encanto x reader #yandere encanto x reader #anon #yandere headcanons #ask #request #yandere mirabel #yandere mirabel madrigal #Mirabel x reader #Yandere Mirabel x reader

48 notes · View notes

greypetrel · 23 days

Text

Fanfic Writer Questions

Tagged by @melisusthewee, and at least another person. I'm sorry if I ignored the tag, I was away and it's a busy period, let me know ;_;

Tagging forward: @ndostairlyrium @shivunin @inquisimer and YOU who are reading and would like to do it!

1. How many works do you have on AO3? 12, right now.

2. What's your total AO3 word count? 497,183 ... I'm chatty.

3. What fandoms do you write for? Dragon Age, and a crossover with LOTR/The Silmarillion.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Home Was Never on the Ground (long fic, concluded, it's anthological and mainly me filling blanks in DAI as inspiration stroke)

She of Many Names (ongoing, a LOTR/Dragon Age crossover. A follower on Instagram asked me if Aisling was Sauron, the idea made me laugh so much that my mind took fire.)

Saturday Prompts (a collection of prompts I posted here. I never uploaded every one of them, oops)

Death and All of Its Friends (ongoing, a DA2 collection)

The Night Before First Day (Two chapters, concluded. One it's in rhyme and illustrated. Aisling taught her daughter that the Dreadwolf is Santa out of spite. Solas tries to disapprove.)

5. Do you respond to comments? Yes, always!

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? I do love angst, but I don't like angsty endings all that much ahahahahah. I think the one that gets closer, in a bitter-sweet way, is One for the Road. Call me a sucker for rare-pairs, this was also prompted here and my brain took fire (LavellanxFenris)

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? The Night Before First Day. Listen I'm not a Christmas person, I turn into a seasonal depressed Grinch at Christmas, living in a catholic country doesn't help, and that is my way of giving myself some joy.

8. Do you get hate on fics? Not that I know of.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Not any that I publish.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written? Yes I do. She of Many Names is a Dragon Age and LOTR crossover. I love it dearly, I'm slow to update it because I have the greatest love for Tolkien (with all his flaws, but my brain rewired when I saw the first movie, and the book has been my entire personality for two years. I wouldn't be the same person without it) and I do care of rendering it as I want.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? ... Not that I know of? I hope not, ahahahah :"D

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? If you consider that English is not my first language, all my fics are translated? xD Other than that, no.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? No, but I'd love to.

14. What's your all time favorite ship? EowynxFaramir, hands down. Out of pure lenght. Maybe LeiaxHan Solo (my parents are both nerds, I think my mom made me watch Star Wars the first time... I don't remember, the vhs were always around in the house. I was very, very little.)(we don't talk about the sequel trilogy.)

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? I tried to write a third chapter for the aforementioned One for the Road... But it ends up in a love triangle and I don't like love triangles that aren't a poly relationship. So, it's sitting in my folder and I'll never finish it. I was considering ditching the second chapter and rewrite it as a "Aisling as a companion in DA2" fic... But MEH.

16. What are your writing strengths? I think dialogue. I am trained as a comic artist, which means that the writing parts that get polished are dialogue. I have much more experience with that. ... I am also terrible at judging my own work in a positive way, tho, so you tell me.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? English not being my first language and leading to mis-spellings. Other than that... I started writing fanfiction after YEARS of not writing anything in prose that wasn't screenplays for comics (which follows different rules). Since I stopped because of being hurt by it, I went on to it by not planning stuff.

I'm rusty with prose, and my retelling -the first thing I tackled- clearly had little planning ahead.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? It's a no, for me, unless you specifically wants your audience not to understand what's being said and create a sense of isolation and of not knowing what's going on. A sentence here and there with a translation is fine. But if it's something long... You want the reader to understand well. Italicized text it is.

19. First fandom you wrote for? I wouldn't call it a fandom, but: Greek Mythology. I drew a parody comic of the Iliad in my first high school year, alongside friends. It had been so fun. I also wrote, still in high school, something heavily inspired by Eragon, which only my friends had the pleasure of reading. (I'm only saying it involved my now most hated trope: THE SECRET TWIN.)

20. Favorite fic you've written? The next one.

I'm very invested in Ashes and Sparks, aka the Dreadwolf AU. I'm putting ideas in it and going fully canon divergent and writing it as I would like Inquisition to have gone. No Corypheus, more crazy tevinters, and the focus ON FUCKING TIME TRAVEL.

In a modern setting because yes.

It's also tackling something I absolutely hate in fiction when it's done wrongly, which is time travel, and I'm sweating and hoping I'll do it with logic. It's something niche and not so focused on a single ship, so probably it'll interest only me, but I'm happily writing and trying to contain myself from posting chapters of more than 10k.

Blank Form Under the Cut

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

3. What fandoms do you write for?

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

5. Do you respond to comments?

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

8. Do you get hate on fics?

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

14. What's your all time favorite ship?

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

16. What are your writing strengths?

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

19. First fandom you wrote for?

20. Favorite fic you've written?

#fanfic writer questions #tagged petrel #fanfiction #ao3 #writing petrel #mel you're rude to force me to say nice things about myself #buuuuuuh! *gives biscuits*

17 notes · View notes