#prologue excerpt

[derangedrhythms]

But I drank your jealousy like a magic potion,

Anna Akhmatova, The Complete Poems of Anna Akhmatova: Epic and Dramatic Fragments and Long Poems; from ‘Prologue’, tr. Judith Hemschemeyer

#anna akhmatova #the complete poems of anna akhmatova #epic and dramatic fragments and long poems #prologue #poetry #excerpts #o

[incorrect-primarchs-quotes]

* Warp shit happens because there are two armies of psykers fighting each other*

Shortly after:

#prologue to Nikaea #by David Annandale #warhammer #malcador #book excerpt

[ballisterboldheart]

fuck you look at the prologue for my fantasy story that WILL be coming out sometime this summer. it’s gonna be a banger. lots of themes. motifs. parallels. nerd shit. prose. i’m so proud of this fucking thang.

text from image under the cut

KING’S BLOOD

PROLOGUE: A TRAITOR’S BLADE

--

The queen is going to die tonight.

In a sense, she’s already dead. In a sense, her murderer has already committed the act, because her murderer watches the sun set with impatience, because her murderer does not anticipate failure, and will not allow herself to fall to it.

The plan is effective in its simplicity—her hand holds the knife, the blade pierces flesh, and an assassin flees into the night. Two heavy bags of coins for two cold corpses. A life spent drowning out the unpleasant act.

And, just as the way forward is clear, she knows, just as easily, she could abstain.

She knows she will not.

Her missing eye throbs, a wound that has not yet healed. Even when it does, she’ll never be as she was. She’ll never be rewarded for her sacrifice.

There is another guard on duty tonight, as they stand watch outside her victim’s door. A better assassin would easily end his life, leave no witnesses, ensure that she cannot be found. A better assassin would kill him.

But, he is not guilty.

Of course, neither is the queen, nor her infant son, but they are distant, ephemeral, concepts that only become real when her blade ends their lives. They become ideas, then martyrs, in quick succession. No moment in between to dwell on their humanity.

The man next to her is human, Queen Vera and Prince Darius are not.

It becomes as simple as that.

After all, a better assassin would be sent after the king himself. A better assassin might stand a chance against a tested warrior, against the man who lives to fight. This guard, soon traitor, is not honorable, nor particularly skilled, because she chooses the vulnerable targets.

Readily, she goes after the heir, the future, the dream. The concepts. Those, those are easy enough to kill.

Eventually, mercifully, it becomes time for the queen to die.

Her murderer steps into the room, expecting fire, bracing herself against the struggle she’ll encounter. The screaming, the pleading, the offers in gold and untold luxuries, in exchange for life.

A traitor steps in, blade eager and hungry.

#s.txt #⚔ #see it's a good thing i trashed the other post abt the prologue. that prologue sucked. this one's the keeper. #god. actually. posting excerpts is fun. i'm gonna do this more. fck everyone's time and dashboards. #also I MADE THAT LOGO MYSELF <3 which is obvious because it's dogshit. but i like it

[anoelleart]

The Protolith: Prologue

[TW: Self-harm, assault]

Charlotte Ujunwae had died thrice before this night.

Like the fungus she stepped on with bare soles, Charlotte died and rose with the seasons of her life. In this way, tragedy always struck her in the summer.

1 |

In the eighth summer of her life, Charlotte witnessed the murder of her parents.

A deafening gunshot woke her. In the moment between opening her eyes and cognition, she thought it was a crash of thunder that roused her. But the sound of heavy rain banging on her bedroom window was accompanied by the scent of acrid gunpowder and burnt flesh. The slick smell of blood brought to her primal fear, the kind of fear where her body knew she faced mortal danger before her mind. A fear which made her veins run with ice before she even realized that it was indeed her mother’s body strewn across the floor. Her mother lay between her and the bedroom door with a hole in her chest.

In her mind’s eye, lightning struck then, but her memories of this night warped with time. This moment of light revealed to her the stranger who’d murdered her mother. He held his gun to her father’s head.

That night, Charlotte escaped by throwing herself out of a third floor bedroom window. She did not remember how her head unceremoniously collided with a stray rock in her garden. At three o’clock in the morning, she gasped for air. Shards of glass were embedded in her bronze skin. Blood soaked her auburn hair. Yet, she dragged herself nearly three miles that morning on a broken femur until she reached her uncle’s farmstead. Under the tumultuous clouds, her scattered brain matter looked just like the dirt.

***

Read the rest of the chapter here!

#writeblr #excerpt #writing #current wip #fantasy #romance #scifi #wip #prologue #women of color #dark fantasy #protolith #protolith chapters

[scribefindegil]

not tagged this time except by dint of “and anyone else who wants to” but I’m so excited about my newfound ability to Make Words that I’m posting another wip snippet! this is from the multi-chapter post-finale Mob fic i’m working on:

As they left the restaurant, Reigen dropped a hand on Teruki’s shoulder.

“You know, this got me thinking,” he said. “Your parents are working overseas, right?”

“Yes,” said Teruki, with the sort of practiced ease that Reigen exuded at the office every day. “But I’m perfectly happy with the independence it’s provided me!”

“Yeah, yeah, of course. But I imagine not everyone sees it that way, yeah?”

Teruki’s mouth was a thin line. “Mm.”

Reigen produced a business card from his pocket with a flourish. The effect was somewhat spoiled when his foot caught on the sidewalk and he had to windmill his arms to stay upright, but the card floated over to Teruki’s hand with a flash of yellow and a whiff of ozone.

“All I’m saying is,” Reigen told him when he’d recovered his balance, “I’m an adult who actually lives in Seasoning City, if your school ever needs you to produce one. Standing offer. Think of it as a thank you for helping out around the office.”

#yes everyone and their mom has written about this but #a) this was the 'the last line you wrote' for the writing meme there is a lot more to it than that #and b) 'holy shit two cakes' is real and we should all embrace it #anyway the fic is going to be called 'In Case Of Emergency' and it is very silly #this excerpt does not make it look silly but i have Schemes #Schemes for some very ridiculous ensemble stuff #if you have ever looked at a Mob fic with a big psychic emergency and gone #'but what if Musashi was also there?' #then have i got some Schemes for you #anyway #i super hope i can keep up my momentum and hash out the first chapter (which is a vaguely standalone prologue) soon #but if not i will just keep picking away at it! #putting these characters in Situations #scribe writes #mp100

[honeybeeswritings]

Sorrowsong

A little short fun prologue for my hobby story!

“In the never-ending, echoing darkness, a glimmer of orange light would be a mercy. The man-forged chains that shackle me bite through my body, and the silence in my head rings louder than ever. My once-mighty form is but a shadow in the gloom, a memory of a roar. Yes, an orange light would be a mercy, would the form that bore it be not mortal. The glint catches in the dark above, and even as my eyes seal shut once more, a centuries-old rage coils tighter around my heart.”

#writing #writeblr #high fantasy #lord of the rings #fantasy writing #prologue #excerpts #fantasy creatures

[sparrowmoth]

Untitled Werewolf!Carlos WIP

predictably, I have been thinking about werewolf!Carlos so

He’d been sure to hide the bite marks under long leather sleeves—but that was after the fact where Jay had appeared, swinging a bat; he’d cracked the wolf’s skull right open—pretended it was nothing, like he’d just happened to be out there, in fuck all nowhere… Oh, who was he kidding? “Jay,” Carlos sighs out in the present moment, eyes flickering aside to where the crickets have stopped chirping. “I know you’re there.” Jay doesn’t deny it. He meanders out from the shadows, thumbs hooked in his pockets and shoulders slack, but a certain tension in his jaw as he looks from left to right, then back to Carlos. “Hey,” he offers. “Whatcha doing?”

#descendants #carlos de vil #jay son of jafar #jaylos #werewolf!Carlos #descendants fanfiction #my fanfiction #my writing #descendants fandom #I have written 1K of this #undecided if I want that to be a prologue or if I'm just going to keep writing and post it as a oneshot idk idk #I don't expect it to be very long so we'll see what happens #for now please accept this excerpt #tomorrow?? who knows

[catkin-morgs-kookaburralover]

Everything was so quiet. It was the first thing he noticed, as his quick trot took him away from the pack, away further than he had ever been before. His paws were inerrant, hardly having to think about the treacherous surface he hurried along. Away, away. He would never see the others again. Why did that which seemed to be a golden opportunity have to go so wrong? How come the sharp scent on the wind had spelled doom, not salvation? The outcast tried to shrug off his worries as he got further away, but they followed him, whispering failure in his ears.

#jewels 2023 #jewels excerpt #sapphire #my writing #original writing #personal #prologue

[livvywritesworld]

The Lambs, Existing | WIP Intro

Genre: Literary Horror with folk horror elements

Synopsis: Bethan Ellis and Casey Novak were young girls when they were each abandoned by a parent. It’s been a wide held belief of their small mountain town that Bethan’s mother and Casey’s father were having an affair and ran off together. Now, almost fifteen years later, the bodies of their parents have been discovered in the forest, not having aged a day since they disappeared.

Setting: Small fictional mountain town in Colorado, fictional lake outside of town

Vibe/Aes: is it spring or autumn? they look the same, nicotine stained sweater sleeves, the forest lets no light in, everything is green, ‘the rain brings baptism,’ a small white church in the middle of nowhere surrounded by trees and mountains and the eyes— watching, chapped and bleeding hands, sunrises on murky morning, the heady smell of incense in church

Themes: loss of a parent / belated grief, paranoia, the act of being a daughter to a mother/father, relationships between parent and child, queer girlhood, religious trauma & loss of faith, becoming, leaving

Status: Currently drafting (again)

Characters

Bethan Ellis (20, narrator) | quiet/reserved, judgmental, impulsive, trying very hard to divorce herself from her mother

Casey Novak (19, narrator) | sarcastic, observant, surprisingly optimistic, wants to know everything and nothing about her father

Excerpt

(cw: mentions of dead bodies)

The bodies were found early in the morning, tangled up in the root system of a lone cottonwood. They were tangled up in each other, too. Her wearing her Sunday best, floral shin-length dress and polished kitten heels. Him wearing the nicest suit he owned, the only thing he ever wore to church. Them both wearing the same faces they’ve been wearing for the last fifteen years— unchanged completely. The bodies ice cold but a couple hours fresh. 

You could see blue veins through translucent skin, catch your reflection in the glassiness of their wide open eyes. Eyes that followed you, however you moved. The birds hadn’t yet gotten to them, the predators either. 

Blood crusted her mouth, had leaked out of her eyes and pattered her cheeks like tears. Glace Ellis, a forever frozen version of herself, upheld by the forest’s protections like a weeping Mother Mary. Her dress still holding the imprint of her daughter’s body, crayon marks on the sleeves. 

please let me know if you want to be added to the tag list!

#writeblr #writerblr #wip intro #wip introduction #am writing #amwriting #writing #the lambs #the way this book has been my number one personal project #aka brainworm #since I was 16 #and this morning is the first time I've written a prologue ever #because prologues are my enemy #prologue beginning is the excerpt #and it doesn't make much sense but it's been three-ish years and is the best I've got

[westywrites]

Find the Word tag

I'm finally getting a chance to go through posts I've been tagged in from the past who-knows-how-long (far too long)...

The last ones that are in recent enough memory for my activity feed to actually show me are a couple of Find the Word tags from @imbrisvastatio - thank you so much! This is my favourite tag game by far!

from one post, I need to find the words: pressing, bruise, midnight, and sunlight

from the other post, I need to find: flame, pressure, reflection, and familiar

I tried some of my other wips and wasn't having much luck, but I knew Essence of Stars (book one of The Corvine) would definitely have all these words. I'm not at all surprised to find 34 instances of "flame(s)" in draft 3 as it is now, but I was very surprised to find "midnight" only appears once and "sunlight" only twice!

Given the length of this post, I'm going to stick the excerpts with all the found words under a read-more

PRESSING

“Lennox.” It was [Avenir]. She was alright.  He stumbled forward, reaching out to her.  “Don’t touch me,” she begged, pressing further into the corner. “You shouldn’t be here.”

BRUISE (I've definitely shared this excerpt from the prologue before, but I love it, so here it is again)

In the dim light of the nearing dawn, blue-tinged shadows cast solemn hope between the graves. A raven settles on the thatched roof of the preacher’s house. Behind it, the sky is the colour of a bruise that might never heal. Silence lies heavy. The church bell is still hours from ringing its joyous call to wake the village. A town dying along with its rotten crops.

MIDNIGHT

The kid jumped, so focused on him they hadn’t noticed the others coming from the other room. They stepped back, shocked. “Mother knows you?” “Mother?” The kid didn’t seem to be using it as an affectionate term like Lennox might call her moeder. But they were far too light-skinned to be biologically related to Mevrou Geheim. They weren’t white but definitely didn’t have her midnight skin. Besides, she had never mentioned any children.

SUNLIGHT

The sharp sting of feathers across her cheek sent her tumbling backwards. A raven’s call pierced the quiet darkness. At the edge of the tear, a fox swished its tail. The raven soared after it. Cambridge opened her eyes in a shadowed alley. The golden evening sunlight was blocked by the crooked walls of the shops on either side. A round, red lantern hung above the entrance to the narrow dirt road of the market.

FLAME

Lennox hailed her as their hero. [Avenir] had never felt more like a monster.  Her own essence had turned into the very flames that haunted her. The heat in her veins was a nightmare on a leash, crying for the chance to be set free. A wildfire eating her from the inside out.

PRESSURE

“What are you doing?” [Avenir] asked, rage burning inside her. The pressure in her head and chest turned into heat. She was trapped. Her nightmares writhed in her mind. All she wanted was to leave, but she couldn’t go. “What is this?”

REFLECTION

Before her, a puddle shined bright, reflecting the stars and doubling their brilliance. [Cambridge] knelt beside it. In it, her face stared back at her. Visible. Her smile screamed joy, and she felt alive. She felt good. Happy for the first time in far too long. Her reflection smiled at her. Her cheeks were rosy from running, her lips pink against her pale white skin. She ran a hand through her long, silken hair. It shimmered in the starlight, so blonde it appeared white. The girl in the reflection looked like the princess of a fairy tale. Cambridge could imagine how Lennox might describe her.

FAMILIAR

On the other side, a shadow fell. A woman appeared, a beautiful woman with pale skin and dark hair. She was familiar somehow. Cambridge remembered sadness distilled into starlight. But when the woman smiled, her teeth were sharp.

These excerpts ended up very centred around the girls, and you know what? I'm happy with that. Avenir and Cambridge deserve the attention. And they definitely deserve more love than the plot allows me to give them.

I will tag you back @imbrisvastatio and I'll also tag @impaledlotus @lux-scriptum @ratracechronicler @muddshadow and @kaiusvnoir

No pressure at all, but if you're interested, I would love to see excerpts from your writing with the following words: brave, fear, steady, shake/shiver, and strange

#west answers #writeblr #spilled ink #find the word tag #amwriting #the corvine #the word of the raven #cambridge #avenir #and though they're unnamed in the excerpt they're in here #helio #lennox #hard to post excerpts without lennox given he's the main pov character #somehow absolutely no ivory in this post though #good thing that the last line post that went up earlier was ivory focused #so he's not left out haha #i considered trying to do all excerpts of the more poetic prose that's sprinkled throughout the corvine #but it wasn't working for all the words #and would've probably given a skewed perspective of the style of the story #the poetic prose stuff happens in the prologue and then reappears for short bits every few chapters #for the most part the book is written in regular prose not the fancy stuff

[derangedrhythms]

You, who have found your way into my last dream.

Anna Akhmatova, The Complete Poems of Anna Akhmatova: Epic and Dramatic Fragments and Long Poems; from ‘Prologue’, tr. Judith Hemschemeyer

#anna akhmatova #the complete poems of anna akhmatova #epic and dramatic fragments and long poems #prologue #poetry #excerpts #o

[captainbogwitch]

excerpt - the princess, the knight, and the beast

One night he was blessed with a sleep deep enough to dream. In his mind he could hear the soft waves, smell the salt in the air, feel the warm water embrace him as he swims further and further and further from the shore. He sees the water swell before him and suddenly the pressure of the waves pushes him down, down, down into the dark depths, but he is not afraid. He welcomes the darkness as a friend, knowing that the light will come.

He opens his eyes and sees it before him, pink and red and blue and glowing, alive—and swimming closer, closer, closer to him. He holds his hands out to catch hold of it, and a symphony of voices ring in his mind.

The sea! The sea! The sea! Find me first where the shore becomes the sea, then grind the bones that grow like trees. Second, drink the stars found in the depths where the moon cannot reach. Lastly, steal the heart of the beast that does not exist. Go to the sea, dear knight, go to the sea.

When he woke, he knew what he had to do.

It had been days since she last opened her eyes for the taotaomo’na had her now. On her desk he writes to her handmaidens and governess, informing them that he will return one day, Goddess willing, and beneath her pillow he lays another message should she open her eyes and not see him there. His forehead touches hers and his breath becomes her breath as they share in ‘nginge. He sends her his strength and his love, and his promise to his soulmate, the girl he calls his sister, his dearest princess, and he does not cry for her, for he will see her again.

Under a moonless sky, the knight rode away, leaving his princess’s side for the first time.

#shortie #it's the ending of the prologue! #i might post this one today/tomorrow in honor of totk release! #sidlink #sidon #link #zelda #legend of zelda #my fic #my writing #fairy tale!au #excerpt

[ghostcicadas]

Prologue of a Story I’ll Never Write

Excerpt from: The Bad Kid Curse (also called, Anathema)

Length: 742 words

—

A soft sound that rang like music in the surrounding, dead air. Across, a boy tilted his head to the sky and breathed in stagnant oxygen that served as reminder to this violent dance between him and what was long considered his other half. Star-crossed lovers till the end of time as he had been told day and night again. Phrases like, You’ll marry her one day, and don’t mess this up. What you two have can never be replaced, rung in his head like untreated tinnitus. Not like he could treat this invisible head wound with something like therapy or other.

As things were, therapy didn’t work well on him, confirmed by Dr. Bogues when, in secret, she timidly requested that his parents send him to a psychiatric facility (of course, he overheard this sentiment from behind the stairwell and changed his behaviour accordingly, which then prompted his parents to praise her for “fixing him,” as it were). He didn’t rely on listening to some Doctor Bogus telling him what problems she thought he had, and thought it best to avoid psychiatric doctors like the plague. They were as maddeningly curious and insistent as the rest of humanity yet they prided themselves on having some doctorate, some slip of paper that gave them the right to pick into his brain and churn him into the upstanding man he ought to be.

As he thought about it, he felt more indifferent to therapists than indignant. It was, as all things were, a mild annoyance that stood as a shackle to his freedom, of which he could cleverly retain if he used his natural charm. The obstacle in front of him could not be described in that way. She was not a shackle he could avoid, but a parasite who had her venomous spurs lodged in the neck, trailing up the back of his skull. He had to disarm her with force.

There was no other way this waltz among the stars could end. He had to tear away from this thin tether of light that trapped him and move along to join normality. Today, he would release from this tangled web of craziness.

Her face was wet and her eyes oozed more wetness. She creaked like old floorboards, sounding an ear-scraping screech like some violent bleeding animal. He strode forward as she scraped her nails in the patch of garbage waste, some mangled attempt to get her footing.

“Please, I swear I’ll love you more than anyone else. I won’t even look at the other guys at school, it’ll just be you and me! We’re everything, right? You said so!” She whined with gasping breaths that only proved her true pathetic self more. Clawed at her throat and tore the silver necklace—a priceless 6-month anniversary gift—from her body, throwing it at his feet. It reflected its shining silver as brightly as the object in his left hand.

Right—the knife he grabbed from her house had become accustomed to his warm fingers (Blood pumping through veins beneath his skin… he had always wondered what they would look like when cut. Did they shower wildly like a crimson fountain as he had seen in movies?) Holding this felt natural. This was the right thing to do after all.

She used an arm to push herself up, but the bulging bag of garbage she was using as leverage broke, spilling some unknown brown substance all over one half of her body. Her outfit was tainted; he had bought that for her, too.

She continued screaming, but she and him both knew no one could hear her. “Get away! You’re a fucking psychopath! Everyone was right about you!”

He actually pondered those words, pausing his slow and steady gait. He had heard those words before, and they should have no affect on him. But, he realized it wasn’t her words that bothered him—it was her tone. She was pleading with a sense of hopelessness embodying her every pore. Her plan had ultimately failed; she wouldn’t get the only thing she ever wanted, and that thought sparked fire in his chest.

His shadow covered her form and he raised the knife gripped tightly in his sweaty palm. White teeth gleamed as he parted his lips, fervour growing hot in the reflection of his pupils.

The moon watched from afar, knowing the stars were right all along, as they had never been wrong before.

#writing #excerpt #writeblr #writing excerpt #prologue #writing community #villain writing #horror writing #funnily enough i am a psych major

[insertcleverpenname]

Macalia and The Forgotten War

(it’s a working title)

***

PROLOGUE

No one really survived the war. They were all either dead or they would be forced to live with the weight of everything they'd seen and done, which was really no way to live at all.

The fields lay in front of her, cratered and smoking, scattered with the fallen: some. with swords still in their hands, or wings on their backs, some with a hundred faces and others with none at all. The wind blew over the battlefield, carrying the smell of magic-- an odd combination of smoke and spices- -and blood towards her.

Everyone had been summoned to the gathering of the councilmen, her included. The family ring on her hand had grown hot and moved with a mind of its own. She'd simply ripped the ring from her finger and threw it to the ground, before scooping her bag and little sister into her arms. The ring had cracked underfoot as she turned to leave.

The crunch and final snap had been so satisfying.

And so, so painful.

Now the baby, not yet two, squirmed in her arms to try and get free, but all that was left for her was gore blood painting the field, lying in puddles and shallow rivers.

The witch held her sister closer to her body, shielding her view. Morgana wished that someone would do the same for her, but everyone that cared for her was gone, lying on this field. And unless they wanted the same fate, they needed to leave.

She stumbled across the field, mentally grasping for a weak space, a thinning in the veil between their worlds. The feeling was akin to dragging a finger along a wall, waiting for your nail to catch on a dip or hole there is it.

She stood on top of a hill, doing her best to ignore the severed hand that was lying. in the bushes, digging up her last reserves of magic to create a portal, but she was too weak and unstable. Just when she was about to scream in frustration, a portal appeared before her, clear and strong and definitely not created by her.

"Eliphas," She turned to see her old teacher and friend. Even after the battle of the century, he looked put together, buzzing with energy.

"Hello dear." He gestured behind her, to the swirling portal. "I believe you were going somewhere.”

"You- you're not going to stop me?" She found herself clutching her sister even closer to her body as he approached. War made it hard to trust anyone.

"Stop you from doing what? I never saw you after the battle. I'm currently making rounds, making sure nothing escaped." He wandered past her, heading down the other side of the hill. As he passed, he handed her a wrapped package with the words just in case written in his neat, slanted writing.

"Godspeed, child." And then he was walking away from her without looking back, with no promise they'd ever see each other again.

"God left us a long time ago, Eliphas." And with that, she ducked through the portal, leaving her home behind for the safety of the unknown.

***

She found a motel she could afford while job hunting, living off stale bread and deli meat, drinking tap water that wasn't clean and buying her sister diapers that didn't quite fit. But they were safe and they were together.

And lying there in a dimly lit motel room, dreaming dreams the way only children can. is the hero of our story.

And that story begins fourteen years later, with our hero getting her butt kicked in an alleyway.

#writer blog #writing wip #current wip #writers on tumblr #writerblr #fantasy wip #work in progress #writing excerpt #writers of tumblr #prologue

[drak3n]

THE ONE-NIGHT STAND

ꨄ. SYNOPSIS: why did this hookup affect you in a way you couldn’t stop thinking about him months later?

ꨄ. CONTENT WARNINGS: smut, unprotected sex, creampie, slight hair-pulling, two adults being terrible at handling feelings, slow burn, alcohol

bold italic quotes = letter excerpts

PROLOGUE. | SERIES MASTERLIST.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.

“you’re probably wondering why i wrote a letter to you. what we had wasn’t that deep, after all.”

“lady in black over there paid for your next drink.”

if there was one word to describe hiromi, it had to be… oblivious. terribly so. it wasn’t like he ever had much time for dating and exploring things, having been occupied with college for many years and climbing his way up the ladder until he could finally call himself a lawyer.

now that he was one, he despised his job. it brought him nothing but trouble and negative thoughts. who the hell had fooled him into thinking it would be a cool job?

perhaps his parents.

the man with spiky, dark hair accepted the whiskey and coke mixture the bartender had slid over on the counter, and he didn’t turn around to check who had really paid for his damn drink until he took a sip first. as a grown ass man, he wasn’t going to take a 180 turn at the speed of light and make a fool of himself.

and oh boy, when he did turn around to check for said lady in black, he nearly took a double take. except for, his hooded gaze stayed plastered on you. unable to drag his dark eyes away from you.

leaned against the wall on the other side of the bar, you were a sight. out of all the laughing and blabbering people dressed in all kinds of odd colors that would usually be more striking to the eye, it was your — he didn’t want to call it normal — choice of clothing that struck him.

short, skintight dress that left little to one’s imagination. yet, his thoughts were running with all kinds of things, gears shifting and turning faster than they ever did before.

it was only his second drink of the night, it wasn’t the alcohol speaking. and it wasn’t also the fatigue speaking. it was him, unfiltered and raw.

you gave him a coy smile and raised your half-empty glass, not even listening to what your friends had to say, wanting nothing but to talk to that man you had bought a drink for.

while higuruma might have started sweating under his suit — he was lucky he had left his jacket at home, forcing him to roll the sleeves of his white shirt up — he didn’t show it. his expression stayed indifferent, face as stoic as ever as he stayed right where he was.

he hadn’t smiled back, only having opted to raise his glass while his unoccupied hand was shoved into the pocket of his slacks. he probably had no idea how mouth-watering that sight was to you. you nearly felt your thighs clenching together out of instinct.

your friends started picking up on where your glance and attention had been wandering to, which followed by them trying to force you to strike up a conversation with him. you didn’t see any reason for it, taking his lack of action after your first step as a sign of disinterest.

however, when you approached the bar by yourself to order one more drink for yourself, the bartender told you it had already been paid for.

“who?” you questioned, which made the woman behind the bar shoot you a grin. “handsome guy in a suit,” was her curt response before she walked off to tend to other drunkards.

you weren’t very slick, so the first thing you did was whip your head to where he had been standing the entire time.

he was already looking at you.

you couldn’t help but start sweating even more than before when he started to approach you. his facial expression didn’t look awfully friendly, so you highly doubted he was going to talk to you.

but he did.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.

“there are some things i forgot in the heat of the moment, but one of the things i can still remember very clearly — apart from the night we both shared together — was how respectful you were.”

neither of you two realized how much time had passed. your friends were forgotten, feeling like leaving you to hiromi wouldn’t be a bad idea as you had been in need of good male company for quite a long time.

alas, a good fuck.

you didn’t drink much more alcohol after that, equally agreeing that the atmosphere was too good to ruin it with unserious giggling and staggering. alcohol had to be one of the main causes of people fucking up things.

it was amazing how higuruma made you feel attached to the conversation despite his voiced displeasure for his job and the entire sector he worked at. what he worked as, he didn’t make clear. which made the entire conversation even more interesting.

it had been his dream to practice justice, he’d told you, but he quickly found out that it wasn’t possible during times like these. it actually saddened you to hear that.

“i’m sure you’re still incredible at your job,” you smiled at him, eyes never leaving his. there was something about him that made you feel stupidly attracted to him.

you felt like a horny teenager glancing at his features, imagining how good you’d feel under him—

a surprised sound was drawn from your lips as an arm was suddenly draped around your waist, pulling you closer to the tall lawyer. one glance to your right told you that someone had approached the bar and stepped too close to you.

the protective aura he exuded sent a tingle straight to your south. and the alcohol you had consumed the entire night helped you voice it.

you found yourself looking at hiromi whose thick eyebrows went up at the words that had spilled from your lips. “i’m afraid i missed what you just said,” he muttered, hand leaving your body when the danger was gone. you didn’t miss the way he put the previous distance between your bodies again.

now that was a man worthy to be between your legs.

so instead of chickening out, you repeated what he allegedly hadn’t heard.

“i said, i want you to fuck me.”

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.

“i never had a man treat me so respectfully. i never thought it was a thing for a man to be nice. sounds stupid, right?”

it didn’t take long for both of you to arrive at your place that wasn’t too far away, thankfully so, because you could barely contain yourself from pouncing on the poor man.

he had a lot more self-control than you had, but the moment you unlocked the door to your apartment, he urged you inside gently to push you against the nearest wall.

“are you sure about this?” staring deeply into your eyes as he questioned your needs, higuruma could tell you weren’t drunk. so was he. you were both totally logical about this.

already kicking off your heels, you pulled him down to your height by his tie. “stop asking,” you panted, licking your lips as your heartbeat quickened with your overwhelming desire.

it was him who closed the gap between you two, soft lips molding together in a heated kiss as your hands wandered to his face, finding his defined cheekbones and the slightest stubble on his pointed chin.

hiromi’s large palms firmly squeezed your hips, staying respectfully distant from your other regions. you whined into the kiss at how needy his touches made you.

“hiromi… take off my dress,” you broke the kiss as you both gasped for air, and a deep hum left his lips when you turned around, exposing the zipper of the dress below your nape.

a shuddered breath was drawn from your mouth when his warm fingertips ghosted over the bare skin on your neck to brush your hair aside, making you choke in surprise when he tugged at it, forcing your neck to strain.

“i couldn’t quite hear you, love.” his moist lips ghosted over the shell of your ear and you bit your lower lip. “what do you say when you want someone to do something for you?”

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.

“the only thing i could think of was how good of a partner you’d be to me. even if it was the worst timing to be thinking about that, considering i was… under you.”

it didn’t matter at this point if you had five or a hundred bodies before hiromi. because one thing was for certain.

he would remain the best fuck of your life till the end of your days.

it wasn’t just the sheer size and girth that was stretching you so painfully deliciously, but also the skill and perfection he put into every and each of his thrusts.

for a man as lethargic as him, he made sure to put all of his energy into fucking you. he didn’t ask you to move a muscle, and all you did was take the pounding he granted you with your face smushed into your pillow and your ass up.

you were lucky your moans were muffled by the fabric of your pillow, because with how good he was hitting all of the spots inside of you, you were sobbing into it. it would have been embarrassing, considering all the sounds he produced was when his hips met your ass, the squelching of when his thick cock entered and left your sopping pussy, and the grunts that left his lips.

hiromi was a sexy man. you were glad you weren’t facing him, because you were sure you’d have fallen in love with him.

“inside, please—”

you choked back a sob when higuruma slowed down, stilling his movements and catching his breath as he forced your back against his lean, muscled torso. “you want me to cum inside?” you nodded pathetically as you squirmed, moving your hips in despair to grant yourself the satisfaction you had gotten used to.

hiromi’s eyes met yours when he pressed your head against his broad shoulder with the help of a hand against your throat for leverage, and you were sure it wasn’t just your pussy throbbing at that.

you felt pathetic for cumming from only a single glance without him even moving. but at least it made him empty himself inside of you.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.

“i wasn’t thinking about it too much, but i thought that when i’d wake up, you would still be there. even if it was just a one-night-stand.”

it was inevitable for you to pass out once you two were done. the rays of sunlight that shone through your curtains were what woke you up as you cracked your eye open to get to your senses.

you were bare beneath the covers, but you were cleaned up. the thought of hiromi haven taken care of you made your insides tingle, and your eyes flew to the other side of the bed.

except, he was not there anymore. it was as if he’d never been there. he didn’t leave a single trace. and to deepen your disappointment, he hadn’t left his number or anything else for you to contact him.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.

“you have no idea how many times i visited that bar afterwards in hopes of meeting you again.”

one glance at the bartender already told her what you had came for again. the nth time in months. at this point, she could only sigh and shake her head in pity.

“okay. this is the last time i’ve asked. promise,” you grunted. she just quirked a brow while handing you a shot. you looked like you needed it.

“you said that weeks ago.”

she was right. why the hell couldn’t you just let go?

you knew it wasn’t the sex. sure, it was mind-blowing… way more than just that. it was the desire to build a deeper connection with him. hooking up with that man wasn’t a mistake by any means…. but maybe that’s what made him disappear from the surface of the earth.

perhaps he thought you were too easy.

“hey, have you heard of this show?” the bartender was standing in front of you again, and you shook your head, unenthusiastic about what she was going to tell you. “apparently, it even brings people together who have been seperated for ages. maybe you could give it a try.”

now this piqued your interest. the width of your eyes was ridiculous, like one of a lovesick fool, which in a sense, you were.

“what’s the name of the show?”

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.

“i just wanted to know if what we had was just a night of lust, or if it could have been more. that’s all i wanted.”

after sending the letter to said address of TO ALL THE MEN YOU’VE LOVED BEFORE, you were too anxious to approach your tv or any type of social media. too scared of getting an answer you weren’t going to like.

the evening of the airing where your letter was featured came and went by, but nothing happened. it wasn’t until the next few days that you realized: although you didn’t like this answer — which was none — it was the reality. it wasn’t what you wanted, but what you needed nonetheless.

now, you were ready to move on.

or, not so much. you were slumped on the barstool, staring into your drink as the jazz music playing in the background added even more to your sentimental state hours later. tonight was doomed to be terrible when you found out that the bartender was on holidays for a week, which meant you’d be on your own with your stupid thoughts.

not quite paying any attention to the silhouette sitting down on the stool next to you, your nose took a whiff of a familiar cologne. it wasn’t every day you smelled that unique men’s perfume, but perhaps it was just a coincidence—

“i got your letter.”

glancing to your right, you sighted hiromi there in all of his glory. seeing him didn’t make you choke on your spit and splutter dramatically like it happened in movies. you were frozen in your spot.

“i didn’t watch the airing. i don’t like watching shows like that.”

you stirred the half-melted glass cubes in your drink, making them clink against each other as you remained silent. if this wasn’t the road to rejection…

“what were you hoping for by sending that letter? what exactly was your intention?”

setting your glass down on the counter, you finally faced the man fully, both of your expressions deadpan. was he being serious?

“are you a lawyer or something like that?”

he paused, looking genuinely impressed at your guess as his thick brows quirked up, before a rough and husky chuckle left his lips. “what gave it away?”

“seemed like you were interviewing your client before court or something,” you laughed, “but what were you hoping for coming here today? you knew i would be here, considering you read the letter.”

hiromi leaned forward as his dark hues took in your features. he looked just as handsome as you remembered, although it had been no longer than a few months. it sure felt like forever, though.

a lopsided smile crept onto his lips as he stood up, towering over your frame. he raised a large hand to hold it out to you, which made you look at it dumbly.

“i was wondering if i could get to know said client a little better,” he murmured. a stupid grin stretched on your painted lips. “in a more formal setting, perhaps. how about dinner?”

“i’d love that, counsellor.”

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.

#jjk #jjk x fem!reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x reader fluff #jjk x reader smut #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jjk fluff #jjk higuruma #jjk hiromi #higuruma smut #higuruma x reader #higuruma hiromi #jujutsu kaisen higuruma #hiromi jjk #hiromi x reader #higuruma x you #higuruma hiromi x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen

[ren-054]

Tiny AIW Excerpt…

(This doesn’t guarantee a bigger story in the future, have mercy on me pls /lh)

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

(prologue thing?)

They took away everything I had left to hold onto. Everything but them, at least. It almost felt freeing, a relief, in a strange way.

The scent of flowers was thick and sweet to my senses. My thoughts slowly blur together as I drowned in the heavy aroma.

No longer did I have to uphold myself as a person. In this land, responsibility was merely a word. A silly word, at that. I was being offered the chance to be freed from the pressure of my former life on a silver platter by the people who have unfailingly proved their devotion to me again and again. Who would I be to deny them?

Gentle hands of cool metal joints and warm motors take my own of flesh. There is an unspoken promise in our grasps.

Out there, there wasn’t anything waiting for me. Really, I had submitted to my fate long before I came here. Before I met them.

I would miss the surface.. My friends.. My brother..

If I just stayed right where I was, surely I’d be happy. He said so. They both did. And I believe them, as much as they believe in me that I’ll stay. I have nowhere to run, therefore I’d never think to walk.

Here, I’ll be safe. Here, I’ll be happy.

• • • • •

(Main excerpt)

“Sugarcube!~ It’s time for tea!”

I shift as a voice rouses me awake and I groan in protest. I felt so warm… I didn’t want to get up… Get up…

Get up from where?

Eyes snapping open, I sit up, finding myself on a grass and wool-stuffed mattress. A warm blanket made of soft fibers had been wrapped around my body, shrugged off when I began to scan my surroundings.

The room was dimly lit and the air was crisp, making me imagine the walls were made of stone or perhaps bricks. Unfortunately my vision wasn’t the best without my glasses. Candles were lit about the room. There were no windows, but there was a lone door on the far wall. Was I underground?

“There’s my little sunshine!” The same voice from before warbled, followed by the clinking of porcelain. “Come! Come! Before your tea gets cold!”

With bleary vision, I turn toward the voice. At a small wooden table set in the middle of the room sat a familiarly flamboyant red-clad figure with their knees up to their chest as they tried to sit in one of the child-sized chairs. I began shuffling off the bed, brushing myself off.

“M-Mister Hatter?” I mumbled as I walked over. “Wher—“

The Hatter tutted at me before I could finish, placing a delicate finger up to my lips. “Dearest little dewdrop, I told you, you can just call me Sun!”

“Uh, Sun?” I eyed the liquid the bot was pouring into the cups. Yellow flower petals and flecks of green herbs floated prettily along the surface of the unknown brew.

“Hmmm?” Hatter hummed, the swirls in his eyes seeming to glow with warmth at the sound of his name.

“Where am I? I didn’t fall down another hole again, did I?” I rubbed at my eyes. “And have you seen my glasses anywhere?”

“Oh! Those are right here!” Dodging my first question, the Hatter pointed at the other side of the table which sat the other teacup along with the distinct sheen of my lenses against the candlelight. “Come on! Have a sit with this lonely hatter!”

“Ah, right.” I nodded before taking my seat across from the bot, putting my glasses back on once I sat. Ah, vision at last.

The first thing I realized was the room was dingy, dustier than I expected. Before I could really notice any other finer details, Sun piped up once again.

“Very good, my dear,” he praised with a light laugh that made me nearly blush. “Now then, where you are. That’s a simple one!”

I leaned in with anticipation. With a relaxed—almost smug—gaze, the Hatter answered.

“I brought you home.”

#text post #art post #aiw writing #uh sure I’ll tag it that #dca #sun fnaf #sun x y/n #aiw au #hatter sun #dca au #cw yandere #a little #what can I say? it’s my thing #this is for the darker version of this au but shush #I’m bad at writing silly things #had to get the creative juices flowing somehow