#im just old and need to learn a03 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

georgianadarcies · 3 years

Note

hi lovey! i just came across your a03 page with your gilmore girls fic and can i just applause you for the talent. i also was wondering if you could give any advice on writing rory x jess! i’m quite new to the fandom and have a rather cool idea but i guess im a little nervous to write etc.

is there anything advice? like anything i should look out for? what really pops etc?

sorry this message is really annoying </33333

this is not annoying at all omg!! I'm actually really flattered that you like my writing enough to ask me for advice ajsjfj I don't know how much help I can be but I can try!! if you have more specific questions I think I can be more helpful, though. also, a lot of fic writing comes down to individual tastes and style, I think, and what works for me may not work for others. that being said, I'll share some broader tips!!

first: outlines!! it's been very trial and error and I often deviate from it at least a little, but trying to map out your story beforehand helps you keep a consistent direction and can just be really useful. it doesn't work for everyone, but I always need to know where I'm going. however — and I've learned this from experience — don't try to map out scenes from start to finish. it can take away the fun of writing and most of the time you'll deviate from that anyway. if you have an idea for how you want the scene to end or lines you want to use do write that down, but an outline isn't binding. it's a living document and is more of a guide rather than a plan set in stone.

for jess and rory, it's really important to me as both a writer and a reader that they are both in character. I immediately stop reading or trash a scene if it doesn't seem like something that would happen. often literati writers like to vent their frustrations against rory by having jess yell at her for cheating with him and "tell her off" or some shit, which... he just wouldn't do. like, he's expressed his frustrations before, both times, but a lot of writers don't make it so much about his feelings rather than their own. make sure that their reactions to the other are how THEY would react, and not your own opinions on the characters.

in a similar vein, I also think that stories are more interesting to read when the narration isn't so much a diatribe on the reader's opinions and analyses rather than how the characters are feeling. like I have rory's insecurities really clear in my writing, but that's not because I think she isn't good enough. she is, but I also don't write that, because that isn't what she's thinking!! this might not make much sense but I don't like writing my fics as meta analyses (although I did do that a lot at first) — that's what tumblr is for!

also: parallels are really fun, and I am obsessed with them, but don’t overdo it. fics are fun because they’re original stories, and a handful of callbacks are really fun, but fics are more run to write and read when the scenes feel new. if we got more episodes, I’d want to have new scenes with them, not repeats of their past. so while parallels are great, and I love bringing back locations such as the bridge, make sure you’re not leaning on their old scenes too much. I’ve used it as a crutch a lot before and I feel like it hindered my creativity and originality.

all this being said, remember that your first fic is not going to be your magnum opus. I can’t even look at my first one because I hate it so much — it has a lot of the things I just said I don’t like to do. but don’t let that fear of bad writing scare you away! I don’t love my writing personally, I have a lot of insecurities about it, but my new writing is so much better than what I was doing two years ago. and I wouldn’t have been able to reach this point if I hadn’t written my first one. chances are, even if you look back in a while and cringe, there are going to be people who love it anyway. it’s totally normal to be nervous to write and want to do it perfectly — I’m still like that, honestly — but it is really, really fun and enjoyable. don’t put too much pressure on yourself to write the best literati fic of all time. I try not to compare myself to other writers too much, but being inspired by others is also completely fine! it’s hard not to hate your own writing when there are others who are so incredibly talented, but don’t let that stop you. good luck with writing!! you can do it!! and feel free to ask any other questions you may have and I’ll do my best to help :)

#ask #anomyous

7 notes · View notes

hecksee · 4 years

Text

Stained Flowers

Hi this is angsty af but im struggling right now so imma project onto fictional characters

Sorry @lumosinlove I like making Leo suffer

this is my entry for the @hpbrokenhearts contest, i started out writing this when i was struggling, and tbh i still am, but it’s gotten a lot better.

Much thanks to the wonderful @iswearimnotanaestheticgirl for editing this monstrosity. You wrecked carnage on it, but it helped so much and I love this end result so much.

Thank you so much to @peggyrose19 and @marauderss-hp for looking this over and giving me suggestions!

This is probably inaccurate but I don’t know anything about hockey, and this is fanfic so who cares about the accuracy.

THIS COULD DEFINITELY BE TRIGGERING, PLEASE TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF

TW suicidal thoughts, suicide attempt, its got a TINY bit of spice sprinkled in (i would rate this teen probably, mature if i was being extra safe), major character death, stress, homophobia, one sided pining, hanakhai, vomiting, something thats sort of like a suicide note, and a shit load of angst

Read on A03 here

Leo knew he was screwed the moment he saw Finn O'Hara on the screen for the first time. He knew he was gonna fall hard. It didn't matter that they had never met or that Leo’s attraction was purely physical. He knew that he would want everything with Finn.

But then Leo started to fall deeper and deeper over time, time that was spent mostly spent obsessing over Finn. Only a few weeks after Leo saw Finn for the first time, it started.

Everybody knew about hanahaki. When someone felt unrequited love, a seed sprouted in their lungs. Nobody knew how or why the seed appeared but it was inevitable.

The victim would start coughing up flower petals, and if their feelings grew, the flowers would grow larger until the victim couldn’t breath because their lungs were filled with nothing but blossoms.

There were only three things someone with hanahaki could do. The main solution was to surgically remove the flowers but have all feelings of love vanish. And some said it was impossible to ever love another person.

So Leo knew exactly what was going on when he started coughing up small yellow petals a few weeks after he first saw Finn on screen.

But, over the next few months he learned to recognize the signs. The tingling in the back of his throat before he started coughing up the silky yellow petals. The itch in his left lung when people mentioned Finn O'Hara. The stabbing pain toward the left of his chest when his teammates threw around homophobic slurs and comments like beads at Marti Gras is nothing new, but now it's accompanied with a burning sensation in his lungs and bloody daffodils.

The daffodils. The fucking daffodils. He decided to look the meaning of the cheery flowers up one day. Unrequited love. After that Leo laughed humorlessly, and decided that hanahaki had a fucked up sense of humor.

Somehow, Leo made it through a full year while coughing up a mixture of blood and petals. He learned how to hide it, how to excuse himself from a situation, and how to choke the petals back down while playing. He made sure that nothing would impact his career, no matter how much longer he had left.

Leo feared that his time was almost up some days. On those days, he wondered Why was he alive? Why did only the left lung sting? Wouldn't it just be better to end it than to live through the constant pain?

He almost made it through a year keeping his hanahaki a secret.

Well, almost. His mom walked in on him cleaning the daffodils smeared with red off the floor, and he had promptly broken down in tears.

He had ended up telling her everything, how he was gay, how he hated himself for it, how he sometimes thought it would be better to just end it all instead, who he loved and why.

His mom had made him tell his coach, insisting it was for the best. There had been a major fight between the coach and him. Leo was yelling and crying but standing his ground about how he needed to play. How playing was the only thing he was living for, damn it. Leo had ended up winning, so he kept playing. And just like before, he kept the hanahaki a secret from everyone, especially his team.

But then, he found out why only his left lung stung. Logan Tremblay. The latest player that was drafted to the Lions. He was newly minted, fresh from Harvard university. Short, broad, brunet, green eyed rookie Tremz.

As soon as Logan stepped out onto the ice for the first time Leo felt that telltale sting. But it was on the right side of his chest for the first time. Fuck, I'm not having unrequited love from one person, but from two?!

His right lung had irises. Royalty, the Fleur-De-Lis, France. Leo didn’t know how those things related to Logan but he could take a guess. Logan was French Canadian born and raised, that had to mean something.

Leo’s life went on. Now he had double the work of fighting the flowers down. Two names instead of one. Leo could tell there was something between Fish and Logan. The intense stares they gave each other across the rink meant something. The tension between them one day had just disappeared. Leo saw something as Logan's hot temper reared up whenever Harzy got into a fight or got hurt.

The signs grew. Rainbow tape on their sticks, posting LGBTQ+ supporting messages on the team Instagram; small things you’d need to look out for, or know exactly what they meant to know the significance.

The real confirmation was when the official Lions Instagram posted the picture of Logan and Finn kissing at a pride parade, smudged bi flags painted on both of their cheeks.

The caption read “We are aware of the homophobia in the league, however, two of our players aren’t willing to hide their relationship from the public anymore. Both Tremz and Harzy have our full support.”

The moment he saw it, the feeling of petals started to itch in the back of Leo’s throat, but he gagged them back as he scrolled through the comments. They were filled with the expected bigotry and homophobia with the occasional biphobic comment. Yet scattered in were the kind comments, full of support, rays of sunshine on a raining day.

Leo started typing out a comment of his own, telling the happy couple how happy he was for them. But the lie was rancid in his head. The flowers Leo had been choking back came up in a wave of blood.

Before Leo got hanahaki, the few dreams he had were filled with a faceless man. One that would kiss him and fuck him, but now, now there were two men. And they had faces.

Finn O'Hara and Logan Tremblay haunted Leo's dreams in the best way possible, more nights than not. Sweet soft kisses, hands tangled in auburn or brown hair, gently worshiping the hard planes and angles that came from a lifelong dedication to hockey were commonplace in Leo's dreams.

In stark contrast, some nights were filled with sloppy, urgent kisses, nails scratching on backs, and a pure need for release. But the dreams would always end, and Leo was left with the burning pain of self loathing building up in his throat before the flowers would make themselves known.

During this dream, Leo had been on fire all night, and it was thanks to him that the team had been led to victory. So here he was with his boyfriends, celebrating.

Leo leaned up to give Finn a soft kiss before turning onto his side and beginning to kiss Logan's neck. Finn had started to ruin Leo and didn't stop until Leo had hit the peak of his pleasure.

However, the aftermath of Leo's pleasure was slowly but surely turning into pain. Suddenly the metallic tang of blood was clogging his throat and the familiar smooth petals were filling his mouth.

The flowers and blood were dripping out of his mouth, and seeping into the white bed sheets. Even worse was that Finn and Logan seemed unsurprised. no, they were almost happy. Their gentle murmurings of praise turned into cold raucous laughter. In between the harsh laughter they told him how stupid he was, how he was a nobody, how they would never love him.

As the flowers only got worse, coming up in waves and mingled with the tears that were rolling down his face, Finn and Logan vanished. Then he was falling, falling, falling.

He woke with a start, his heart pounding in his chest, lungs gasping for air in between choking sobs; lying in a combination of petals and blood. His face was sticky with tears and warm, wet blood, and a few stray yellow and white-ish purple petals stuck to his skin. The only indicator that Leo's dream wasn't all bad was the stickiness in his underwear. But the worst part was that he was alone, stuck with only fantasies, once again.

The next day, Leo knew that practice would be bad. Even though yesterday his team was idolizing the Lions, they sure as hell wouldn’t be idolizing them right now. Practice was full of his teammates throwing around a myriad of slurs. The locker-room was even worse, where the coach wasn’t there to monitor their comments.

Leo fidgeted with his bracelet, uncomfortable with the comments that were flying around, with the flowers edging up his throat. He didn’t remember what happened next.

One minute Leo’s fidgeting with his bracelet, the next he’s yelling. Yelling about how people aren’t judged by their sexuality, how hell, maybe there even was a gay person in the room! To that he was obviously asked if he was the gay one, to which, he responded yes. Leo stormed out of the room to a soundtrack, suppressing the flowers fighting their way up his throat as soundtrack of cruel laughter and biting words rang around the room, just like the ones in his dream.

The next day he dreaded going to practice. He knows he won’t be welcome on the team anymore, so what’s the point of going?

Leo ended up just texting his old coach that he was resigning. His team broadcasted the fact that he’s gay on their Instagram. Now Leo’s the target of the myriad of hate that Finn and Leo faced. It made him sick to his stomach. Seconds later, he was puking into the toilet. No flowers this time, but still unpleasant.

He still walked with dragging steps to the rink and practiced, of course. He didn’t want to lose his skills when he attempts to go pro. Trying to ignore the fact that he knows no one will take him now.

Out of the blue, three days after Leo outed himself, his phone rings shrilly. Marlene McKinnon. The Lions announcer. Why was she calling him?

Marlene asked him to play for the Lions because he had great potential. Leo hesitated. Did she not know that he was gay? He pensively inquired about his sexuality, how would that impact his place on the team?

To his surprise, Marlene told him it wouldn’t influence anything. Leo was shocked, but in the happy way. Then she asked if he had any health conditions. Just like the thing about his sexuality, Leo hesitated. Eventually he nodded and said yes.

It’s hanahaki, he told her in a slow voice, but it doesn’t impact my playing.

Fucking lie.

Marlene was silent for a moment but then put him on hold with some shaky words. 5 minutes later, she agrees to let him play, on the condition that his hanahaki doesn’t get worse, and if it does, he needs to have them removed. Leo agreed, and suddenly, Leo was going professional.

Sure, Leo was worried about becoming a Lion; his subjects of affection were there and they were in a happy relationship. But over time, and many, many practices filled with words thrown at O’Hara and Tremblay, he had learned to choke back the petals.

After a few months, the day came where Leo was leaving. With many tears, and a lot of goodbyes, Leo left for Gryffindor. After a couple long flights, and a short taxi ride, Leo stepped out of the car to Hogwarts.

Inside the rink, he was greeted with the signature smell of a hockey arena, he couldn’t quite describe it, but it was pleasant, and reminded Leo of home.

In a blink, he was bombarded with maroon and gold, hugs and welcoming words. When he turned his head from the excitement, he saw them. Finn and Logan, standing back with Pascal Dumais, who he was going to move in with.

After meeting everyone and flipping out while Finn and Logan give him a hug while swallowing down the familiar liquid and petals that up, Leo was informed that he won’t be living with the Dumais’ after all.

“You’ll be living with Finn and Logan, I hope that’s alright?”

Leo quickly excuses himself to the bathroom to let the mixture of flowers, blood, and bile out.

But Leo ended up moving in with Fish and Tremz. However over the weeks, he formed a close bond with both Finn and Logan. Of course, he became closer with the rest of the team, Loops especially. Hell, Leo has a feeling that Loops knows what it feels like to love someone who will never love him back.

But after Sirius and Loops get together, Leo knew that he’s the only one who will never get the privilege of having requited love.

Leo was glad that he had managed to keep it a secret from the team. Well, there were some people he had to tell. After all, Remus was the team medic. Remus was keeping it a secret from the team and the public. But Remus didn’t know who was triggering Leo’s love. The only people who knew were Leo and his mother.

Each practice where the two of them do anything lovey dovey, Leo needs to be excused while he chokes back the flowers that are bringing themselves up his throat. But his goalie face hadn't been developed over happy things, so he shoved his feelings back and forced himself to remain calm, pretending to support their relationship; which he did, of course he did, but Leo wished more than anything that he was there with them. Leo wishes he was there in between them, wishes he was the one holding hands with them, and sharing sweet soft kisses with them.

Hell, more than once in the time when Leo was with the Lions he considered ending it all. The thoughts weren’t new, no, he’d been struggling with them since he had realized he was gay. But now, with the objects of Leo’s affection so close yet so far, he didn’t know if it would be worth living.

But then one day, about three years after the hanahaki had started, Leo woke up with agonizing pain in his chest, like someone was squeezing a palm around his heart. He thought back. The aching had worsened every time he interacted Finn and Logan. Now the flowers were coming up almost every hour of every day. The tingling feeling is now always at the back of his mind. As soon as Leo thought about Finn and Logan he felt flowers coming up.

The flowers are accompanied with a burning pain instead of a small stab. All of the flowers are full blossoms, a few with stems and leaves. They’d be perfect and prim, beautiful, if they weren’t coated in enough blood to look like a murder scene.

This was it; this was one of his last days, if not his last.

With slow robotic steps, Leo stands up, taking some deep breaths. He fished a pen and a notebook from his cabinet, and started to write four letters.

The words to his family tell them how sorry he was at how bad he was at hiding his worsening hanahaki, how much he loves them, and how he wishes he could have said goodbye in person.

“I’m sorry for causing you pain.”

In the letter towards the team he apologized for hiding his disease and explained how thankful he was to be a part of his dream team. He told them how different the Lions were to his old teams, how they were a family and how they loved each other no matter what, regardless of their differences.

“Thank you for being like a family to me.”

In the one addressed to Logan and Finn, Leo explained how they were the subjects of his attraction, how much they influenced his life coming out by choice, consequences be damned. Through blood, sweat, tears and flowers, he found himself rattling on and on about how much he loved them, how he fell in love with them, and how much he valued the friendship they had; even if it was just friendship. Leo’s hand lingered as he thought about it. Would this letter cause the two of them to blame themselves? Should he really write it?

No. He had to. Leo added a note telling them not to. It wasn’t their fault, it was his choice.

He brushed away the crimson mess. With droplets of blood staining his fingers, Leo starts on the final and most formal letter.

Leo wrote vaguely in this letter. He told that he did have hanahaki, and how he had dealt with it for years before he joined the Lions. He publicly commends the Lions for being so accepting of him, even though he had hanahaki and he was gay. Finally, he thanked his fans for staying with him through it all.

Then, with all the letters finished, Leo sealed them in envelopes and wrote to whom they are addressed to. Gingerly, Leo placed them on his nightstand and prepared for his final practice.

During practice Leo told everyone how much he appreciates them, which wasn’t too unusual, so nobody took much notice. Otherwise, practice was uneventful. Leo blocked some passes as they prepped for their game with Hufflepuff next week.

Leo was coughing almost nonstop during practice but he chokes back the blood, bile, and flowers. He allowed himself to think that this is the last time he’d have to push it down. The aching pain in his chest doesn’t subside, if anything it only grew worse the longer practice goes on.

Leo walked into the locker-room, preparing to take a shower and stretch before heading home when the aching in his chest grew. He could hear the blood pumping in his ears and the world around him blurred. He swayed, unsteady on his feet, trying not to cry or scream. His breaths were labored, he was becoming lightheaded and his heart was pounding in his chest. The pain became too much to bear and Leo’s legs failed on him.

The team rushes over with concerned expressions on their faces. On his knees, the flowers, stems, and leaves start to come up, splattering all over the cold ground, no matter what Leo does to try and keep them back. The team became frenzied, calling for Remus.

It was too late. Leo knew that this was his end.

Once, when Leo was little, he asked his grandmother why people didn't just get the flowers removed. She smiled at him sadly and told him that, there might be a person you loved so much you couldn't bear the idea of not loving them. Even if you died for it.

At the time, he brushed it off as stupid but now, now as tears sqeezed through his blurry vision and the feeling of the cold tile floor disappears, he understands exactly what she meant.

The last thought that went through his mind, before the petals, flowers, and blood came up for the last time, was of his two loves. In an instant, all of his fantasies of Finn and Logan melted into the reality of their friendship and flew past his eyes. With one last satisfied smile, Leo closed his eyes. His grandma was right.

Some love really was worth dying for.

Just a quick reminder, this is my entry for @hpbrokenhearts so if you liked this fic or it made you cry/broke your heart, please put a broken heart in the comments, either in emoji form or not! Thank you so much for reading!!!

122 notes · View notes

jebbysaysrandomstuff · 3 years

Text

I wanted to try creating a fanfic, but I don't have an A03 account yet, so I'm doing it on here instead.

Hello! Im aware I have been away for a while, I have had lots of school work to catch up on, but I just finished S1 of Demon Slayer on Netflix (If you havent watched it I highly suggest you do before reading this) And decided to create an MCYT X KNY/DS Fanfic, and the ones I see on A03 usually consist of Tommy taking Tanjiro Kamado’s place and Techno taking Nezuko’s (Tanjiros sister) And leaving whoever else is left to be other demon slayers or hashira.

Im going to upload this fanfic, only 1 chapter so far as Im not sure Im too confident in this AU, as my grammar sucks. Without further ado though, Enjoy chapter one. (Warning, Gore?- I mean theres dead bodies, And me being terrible at creating chapter names.)

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

Wilbur was fairly well known in the village that resided not too far away from his home. He was the oldest brother to two other siblings. Though that number quickly dwindled down to one after his father and slightly younger brother (It’s by a year in this AU) left for some training of some sort. Luckily, Wilbur was able to make a stable income for himself and his younger brother Tommy, who is only 10. Tommy was a special kid in Wilbur’s eyes. After all, it had been 4 years since his other family members left and Tommy was the only family around, so he may treasure him more that he did Techno or his father Phil.

12/02/1920

Wilbur was getting ready to leave to the village, he was going to sell coal to the people residing there and see if they needed any assistance in doing anything. He trusted Tommy to stay home, not alone of course, he had a distant relative in town for a while, so they offered to look after the 10 year old while Wilbur was selling his coal. But as he said his goodbyes and left, he couldn’t help but feel that he has somehow made a big mistake. Shaking his head, he pushed the feeling down, he trusts that his family will remain safe in the house they live on up by the mountain.

When Wilbur arrived into town, he was immediately bombarded with people wanting to buy coal or asking for his assistance in return for some money. By the time that Wilbur was actually done with selling coal and helping people out, he had filled more than half the basket with money. Unfortunately it was getting late and he had no way of getting home in the dark unless he wanted to get lost, he also couldn’t find a way to tell the others at the house that he would be late…

“Hey Wilbur!” A familiar voice called to him, “you need a place to stay tonight, there’s no way you’ll make it back to the house in time.” Wilbur turned around and saw a familiar face, it was the baker of the village, Niki. She was always so kind to those who lived for visited the village (Her baking is also great too!) Smiling, Wilbur started walking towards the baker’s home. “Thank you Niki, I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this.”

“Of course!” She smiled kindly, “After all, we can’t have you going out at night, there may be demons lurking around!”

Wilbur made a confused face at that. ‘Demons?’ He thought, ‘I’m sure it’s just a myth, I’m sure parents just use that to keep kids in check.’ Niki laughed at the confused face Wilbur pulled when he mentioned demons, but soon stopped laughing when realizing he really didn’t know what demons were. “Wait, you’re being serious?” She asked while setting up a bed for Wilbur to sleep in for the night, “You really don’t know what demons are, Wil?” Wilbur shook his head at her question, getting up to follow her into her kitchen where she started getting ready to prepare a meal for him eat before going to bed. “No, Should I know what ‘Demons’ are, Niki?” He asked, he was really confused as to why she had looked so shocked at the question. She sighed. “Why don’t we talk about this while you’re eating?” As she said that the noodles she was boiling were finished and she put them into a bowl with some broth in.

A few minutes later, the two are sat down opposite each other. “So... are you going to tell me about these ‘demons’?” Wilbur asked, while eating. Niki nodded and started to explain. “Demons are these man-eating creatures that only come out at night or when the sun is away, as the sun can kill them.” She said quietly, Wilbur wondered whether Niki had experience with these demons to know that they eat humans. “My father was eaten by a demon a couple years ago.” Niki said sadly, “So in order to keep demons away I use this wisteria plants to keep them away, as its poisonous to demons.” Niki soon ended the convocation after that, seeing as she quickly said her goodnights and took away Wilbur’s empty bowl, he can only assume she doesn’t like talking about them.

Going to bed half an hour later, the uneasy feeling had increased, after hearing the story about demons, he could only worry for those around the area, and Tommy and that distant relative he could never remember the name of. He fell into an uneasy sleep, only dreaming of what these demons are like.

When Wilbur woke up the next morning, he thanked Niki for the hospitality and promises to bring more coal the next time he visits the village. And with that he took his basket of money and started making his way up the mountain.

Wilbur figured that he was only 5 minutes from the house now, but he couldn’t help but slow down, usually increasing in speed to go see his brother, but the uneasy feeling had returned and only grew worse when making his way up the mountain.

Then that’s when it hit him. He didn’t need a great sense of smell to tell that there was a strong scent or blood and decaying bodies somewhere around the mountain. Worried for his family, he ran up the mountain once the house came into view. He was met with a bloody path leading into the house. He followed the path and was met with the decaying body of the family member he trusted to look after Tommy, he really regrets not learning their name, but they showed up so suddenly and it’s was them three for a while. Speaking of bodies, Wilbur took a step into the house and saw Tommy laying on his back, a small wound on his head. But he was still breathing, his baby brother wasn’t dead, despite the amount of blood leaving his wound. Quickly thinking, Wilbur picked up his brother, putting him comfortably so it looked like Wilbur was giving him a piggy-back ride, and dashed out the house into the village. Hoping he could find some medical assistance to help the brother he raised. Halfway down the mountain, Tommy had started shifting a lot, and groaning, this confused Wilbur as he tried to get Tommy to calm down, but Tommys constant struggling ended up with them falling down a slope. Tommy was quick to get up and lean against a tree. “Tommy!” Wilbur yelled out, his voice full of worry for his baby brother, “Toms, you don’t need to walk, I can carry you to the village, don’t worry!” Wilbur started moving towards the 10 year old until he was suddenly attacked by said 10 year old. “Tommy, What are you doing?!” Wilbur yelled out in fear, he wrestled Tommy while thinking of what to do until he saw a distant shadow coming closer….

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

That was it! I do take feedback, constructive feedback that is, not hate.

Also give me some ideas as to what breathing forms the other MCYT characters can do, as I'm wanting to make this original in my own way, basically using the least amount of canon breathing forms,

#demon slayer au #MCYT X KNY #MCYT X DS #demon tommyinnit #sleepy bois inc #dream smp au #More like 2/4 SBI until Chapter 2/3 havent decided on which of the two I wanna have a reunion #tommyinnit #wilbur soot #Technoblade is mentioned #Philza is also mentioned #niki nihachu

13 notes · View notes

lucindarobinsonvevo · 3 years

Text

Tagged by: @theloversthedreamersandme82

Name: Mitz/Mitzi but plenty of people still call me by the initials of my #iconic url bisexualcharliedavis.

Fandoms: The Doctor Blake Mysteries, Eerie Indiana/The Other Dimension, Neighbours, and very occasionally Saints Row.

Where do you post: A03 mostly, but i crosspost some works to ff.net and you can find me in the Eerie Indiana Ficfest on Dreamwidth.

Most popular one-shot: i’d rather not say because im planning on orphaning it.

Most popular multi-chapter: Forever Westward, it’s also the only multichapter fic ive ever posted and completed.

Personal Favorite: The Ballarat Eight and Other Portraits.

Work I am nervous about posting: none really.

Method for titling fics: dont have one, lol. love a good song lyric but usually just a couple of words vaugely related to the plot.

Outlining or wing it: i tend to have a series of plot points that I need to get to and whatever comes inbetween is like. there.

Excited about any upcoming works:

Cowboy Like Me - Charlie/Edward enemies to lovers + edward learns how to not be terrible all the time while Charlie....Well Charlie sure gets laid.

The Mirror, Darkly (From Your Perspective) - Dash X is raised by his doting parents Marilyn and Edgar. Marshall Teller is the mayor’s mysterious son. it gets weird.

Robinson Family Business: single father of six and local business tycoon Paul Robinson loses everything at the hands of his not so silent business partner. His only remaining asset is the failing hotel ‘Robinsons’. Amy is 17, Leo and David are 12/13 and the triplets are 4. Even thought there is at most 3 years between any of pauls kids i thought it would be more fun if he had a child in each age bracket. Things are not easy sailing for the mister Robinson of course, he struggles to bond with his middle children, Cam still isn’t talking and Robert keeps trying to steal his leg and make attempts on his life. At least he’ll always have Elle. also feat. 19 year old Steph as the hotel receptionist and her girlfriend Libby who is always around cluttering up the place.

*User subscriptions: 17 (whomst?)

*Kudos: 1365

*Comment threads: 198

*Bookmarks: 29

*Subscriptions: 17

*Word Count: 495543

*Hits: 29779

I tag: @thisblogwasmadeforlurkin and......um.....

#mitzianswers

2 notes · View notes

havokangel · 5 years

Text

Run Boy Run - Braxton Wolff x Reader [Chapter 2]

The last thing Braxton Wolff thought he’d be doing today was killing all of his men, killing half of Moreno’s lackeys, and practically beating an old man into giving him his old pickup to make a messy escape. His nerves and reflexes are on high as he grips his bloodstained gun with one hand, the other managing to stay in a single lane; much to his own shock that he’s actually capable of doing that at the moment.

He’s in the outskirts of Illinois now, and the first, coherent and rational thing that goes through his mind is: I gotta ditch this piece of shit.

Or, the one where an ex-hitman comes into your life and changes it forever - and you’re trying to decide if it was for the better or the worse.

CHAPTER ONE

LINK TO A03

a/n; HELLO ALL! it’s me! karley! i’m not dead!! i promise! i’ve had this chapter sitting in my docs for literally over a year and a half and im so sorry it’s taken me this long yall. i love writing but my life has been INSANE and i’ve just been busy with school and my boyfriend etc. so please leave me some feedback, i would love to come back and write for you guys! enjoy <3

@alexsunmners

-------

The night of the massacre

It’s been less than 24 hours since the massacre in Chicago. Moreno hasn’t even changed out of his blood-soaked clothes, making him all the more terrifying than he normally is. His jaw has always been sharp, but the way the blood is spattered on it makes it look like it could slit a throat.

With his gun cocked in his hand, he paces slowly, like a lion in front of his pathetic excuse of a team. There’s not a lot of them left, but with their training from an expert like Moreno, he expects more from them than what they’ve given him.

His men watch him with a blank expression, all of them masking the underlying fear that lives deep within them. They watch as he paces quietly, eyeing them as if he was going to pounce any second.

“So,” Moreno finally speaks, voice low and hoarse. “You’re tellin' me that you let Braxton fucking Wolff kill half of my team-and you fuckin’ let him go?”

His brows rise in fury, a downright terrifying and sarcastic grin tugging at his lips. Moreno’s hair is in disarray, and his usual calm and collected demeanor is nowhere to be found. How could it be in a situation like this? His men are dead. Someone he trusted double-crossed him. The worst part? No one saw it coming.

“Huh? You fuckers ain’t got nothing to say, huh?” Moreno hisses, running a hand through his hair, the gun now raised. He doesn’t hesitate as he steps forward, pressing the barrel of the gun against the forehead of one of his men, Wilson. Wilson visibly turns white but doesn’t move. They know Moreno. They know that if one of them does one wrong move, he wouldn’t hesitate to pull the trigger.

“Wolff has my money. He fuckin’ took all of it, and he killed half of you too. How the fuck does that even happen?” Moreno snarls, sweat beading down his temples.

“We didn’t expect it to happen.”

Moreno turns his head slowly at the voice that dares to say something. Barnes.

Barnes always was one of Moreno’s favorites, just under Braxton. Barnes is calm, collected, which Moreno has always liked. Not to mention, he’s one hell of a shot. Barnes knows he’s got some of Moreno’s favor. Maybe he’d listen to him.

“And how the fuck did none of us expect this kind of attack to happen?” Moreno questions, lowering the gun from Wilson’s head. He steps towards Barnes slowly, and Barnes swallows hard and maintains his level-headedness.

“You know Brax. You trained him, you mentored him. Everything he learned was from you, sir. He was always one step ahead. He knew how to keep everything under wraps before the attack. He knew how to lie. That’s why we didn’t expect it to happen.”

Moreno squints as Barnes explains himself, and Barnes can practically feel the pure rage radiating off of him because Moreno knows deep down that he’s right. If anyone else tried to pull off this big of a heist, let alone solo, Moreno would find out and shut it down. Moreno is smart, but Brax is smarter.

And there’s no way Moreno is going to admit that. There’s no way he’s going to let Brax live after stealing his millions of dollars. He’s going to kill Braxton Wolff if it’s the last goddamn thing he does in his life.

Moreno falls silent for a moment before he steps away from Barnes. He thinks for a second before he speaks.

“I want all of you to find Brax. I don’t fuckin’ care what it takes. Find his aliases, find his fuckin’ fake credit cards, fuckin-hack into security cameras-I don’t give a shit. I’m gonna kill that bastard. M’gonna kill him and anyone that gets in my way. You got it?”

Everyone nods, but no one expects Moreno to return the gun to Wilson’s forehead and pull the trigger. The sound of the shot reverberates around the room, and pieces of what was Wilson’s brain lands on the men next to him. Moreno doesn’t even blink as he shoves the gun into Barnes’s hand, and spits,

“Clean that shit up and get to work. We’re gonna find him.”

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

Braxton isn’t used to waking up to the sunlight creeping in slowly and the birds chirping. He’s used to hearing the horns of traffic and people with thick Chicago accents yelling at each other. Waking up like this feels like some sort of dream as he blinks his eyes, adjusting to the golden rays of light sweeping over him. There’s something that he hasn’t ever really done before that’s new, as well.

Waking up next to someone.

He tilts his head to look over at you, and the memories from the night before make him bite down on his lower lip. He hasn’t slept over after a hookup since he was in fucking high school. Brax can’t help but reach out to trace his fingertips ever so lightly over the curve of your waist, your lower half covered by his flannel sheets. Much to his surprise, you barely move. But he figures that’s from spending the night fucking relentlessly.

Brax gets up from the bed as up as quietly as he can, wincing slightly when the bed creaks. He scrubs a hand over his beard and pulls his sweats and shirt on and pads to the kitchen, grabbing a mug to make some coffee. As he waits for it to drip, he heads outside to lean against the patio railing, letting his eyes flutter shut.

Last night was amazing, but even fucking a pretty girl doesn’t stop the nightmares.

Every time he manages to sleep, all he can see is the blood, he can hear the screams, he can feel Moreno’s men stabbing him. Every scar on his body fucking hurts every time he thinks of it. Brax can’t help but to rub his hand over the most prominent scar on his neck and shuddering at the thought of how much blood came from it. His breath almost catches as the memories come back, and he knows he’s on the verge of an anxiety attack -- or something damn near close to that.

When Brax was a child, his older brother Christian was his responsibility. He was his responsibility because after their mother left, their father became a different man. And not for the better.

Christian always was different from the other kids. Their parents knew this. Their mother, who took the time to educate herself on Asperger’s, cared and loved Christian despite it. Hell, she even educated Braxton on it and made sure he knew how to be a good brother to Christian even when Braxton was too little to understand.

Their father was a different story.

After their mother left, Christian became even more sensitive to the world around him, which resulted in some episodes of overstimulation. Their mother always would hold him close, and say with him the nursery rhyme she always used to tell them as babies.

Solomon Grundy.

After she left, Braxton took her role. He memorized every word of that rhyme and uses it on himself to this day when he feels like he needs to grab hold of something to anchor him to reality.

So that’s what he does now, and he gets halfway through it before he can hear the slider open and he tenses before he feels your soft arms wrap around his waist.

“Morning, Brax.”

His eyes flutter open and Brax really can’t help the smile that tugs at the corner of his lips. His large hands dwarf yours as he rubs your hand and turns around in your arms, and says,

“Morning, sweetheart.”

Your hair is in a lazy bun and you have a little bit of mascara smudged under your eyes, and somehow you look even more beautiful than you did the previous night. You almost smirk lazily as your chin rests on his chest.

“I sure hope some of that coffee is for me. I’m gonna need it.”

“Oh yeah? You got work or somethin’?” He teases, hands stroking your back slowly.

“Yeah,” you reply with a laugh, nose scrunching up. “Plus you fucked me real good, so that’s also another reason.”

He passes an easy laugh and he just squeezes your ass, earning a delighted chuckle from you as he says, “C’mon kid. I’ll get you some.”

By the time you both guzzle down your coffee, he’s grabbed your ass more than you would care to admit and you’ve kissed him between soft smiles. If you were squinting, you’d think that he was being soft. But in the fleeting moments when it’s quiet, it feels as if he’s not present; like he’s not quite here, but rather somewhere else. His eyes in those moments feel empty, distant.

You tell yourself not to overthink it. It’s not like you’re married to the guy.

When you’re pulling on your clothes from last night, Brax lies on his bed with his sweats hanging dangerously low on his hips and his hands behind his head, admiring your curves as you move around. After you’re done clothing yourself, he stands and walks you to the front door.

“You want me to walk you back to the bar? S’kind of a far walk.” He offers, hands going in the pockets of his sweats.

“Nah, I should be good,” You respond, arms folded across your chest. “But thanks for last night. It was a lot of fun.” The blush that sneaks past your conscience is enough to make you embarrassed, but Brax finds it sweet.

“No, it was my pleasure. Trust me. Haven’t had that kinda fun in a long time, sweetheart.”

You both just pass a small laugh, and you look at your feet before you look back up at him. You hesitate before you lean forward and kiss his cheek and say, “Neither have I. Give me a call if you’re ever bored, yeah?”

And before he can say anything, you’re leaving, smirking over your shoulder as you steal one last glance at him. He stands there with his hands in his pockets; and the only thing running through his mind as he watches you is, goddamn, he can’t wait to get his hands on you again.

You really don’t expect Brax to text you so quickly. I mean, come on, have you seen the man? He could easily get anybody he wanted to with one look, beguiling them to submission. Shit, he practically did it to you not even twenty-four hours ago.

Maybe it’s the self-deprecating thoughts getting the better of you, but regardless, you shave as soon as you get that text and you head over to his little cabin. After all, you did have a good time the previous night -- the handprints on your ass is more than enough evidence of that.

The porch light is on when you walk up the steps of his porch, and you don’t even get the chance to knock before he’s opening the door, curls awry and a smirk peeking through his beard.

“Just couldn’t wait, could you?” You tease, smirking as he tugs you in by the wrist. His hand goes to your ass and that smirk of yours vanishes just as quickly as it came.

“Nah, really couldn’t.”

If you thought the night before was incomparable, god were you wrong.

You weren’t even aware that your body was able to bend in the ways he makes you do, and you didn’t think you’d be into the rough way he handles you. His hands wrap around your throat, they smack your ass, and tangle themselves in your hair, making you gasp out his name as a fucking pornstar would. The best part? No neighbors can complain about the noise. Lord knows your nosy neighbors would be shoving an angry note under your door right about now.

By the time you’re done you’re on that high you were reveling in the previous night, Brax lying next to you- no doubt sharing the same feeling. Shoving your damp hair out of your face, you watch him as he stands up, pulling his boxer briefs on and muttering something about grabbing water. As he walks away, your eyes are drawn to his back. You squint as he exits the room, making out a huge mark on his back.

Huh. You hadn’t noticed that the night before.

He comes back with a cold glass of water for you, and you groan quietly out in relief after you gulp it down.

“Thanks,” you say softly, clearing your throat as you set the water down. He nods in acknowledgment and reaches down to grab his sweats in the process. You flick your eyes over again, and it’s no denying that it’s a huge scar across his back. It could be the dim lighting, it could be your tired state, but it looks fresh.

Lying back against his pillows, you hesitate before you ask him.

“What happened?”

“Whaddya mean?” He questions, voice gruff as always. He lies down next to you again, and you notice that he didn’t grab himself water. He got himself a beer.

“That scar on your back. It looks pretty fresh.”

Brax just takes another sip of his beer as he shrugs. If there’s one thing he’s always been good at, it’s lying on the spot. This situation is no different.

“Construction accident. Happened a few weeks before I got here.”

“Oh.”

Four years of a nursing program and one year of a master’s program in nursing taught you that a construction accident doesn’t look like that. A construction accident on that scale is rare. You know that kind of scar is something that’s more personal; more violent. But you don’t push it because, for all you know, it could be a freak accident. It could be true.

“Yeah, hurt like a bitch but I got some cash outta it. M’not gonna complain about some cash, y’know?”

He chuckles about it nonchalantly, and it eases your discomfort about it. So you laugh too. And just like the night before, he finishes off his beer and he pulls you back in for more, pretending like he’s normal again, and that this is normal for him.

#My writing #run boy run #braxton wolff x reader #brax wolff x reader #the accountant #fanfic #the accountant fanfiction #jon bernthal #jon bernthal x reader #ben affleck #christian wolff #braxton wolff #brax wolff

28 notes · View notes