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#fan-fiction
byechristopher · 5 months
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I hate you, too.
– CHRIS STURNIOLO SMUT.
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Author's note: okay so, I was listening to Les – Childish Gambino, and this idea came to mind because uhm, I love Chris, I love parties, I love angry, messy, toxic sex. So, sue me. I got carried away so, super long. Do not copy/steal my work. :)
Warnings: this, once again, is pure filth. Super long, didn't proof-read so fml, angry & rough sex, toxic sex, slapping, choking, semi-public. Just a mess. Minors dni!
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The lights are so damn bright in here, I can see blue, red, purple, all kinds of colors, everywhere. Not that I'm really complaining, this place is so dark that I can barely see anything – only when the lights flash. I can see people everywhere, their silhouettes, dancing, kissing, drinking.
I quickly pour myself a drink, making sure I'm keeping it safe in my hand; I haven't been in a house party in ages. But I remember how messy they get, I know everyone will pass out at some point. I'm trying to search my friend group with my eyes but it is almost impossible – how big is this goddamn house?
"Hi! You made it!" a friend screams when she sees me and I smile. I try to greet everyone but my eyes meet someone's face that I really didn't want to see here. My ex.
"What is he doing here?" I groan, turning to glare at my friend.
"I'm sorry, babes, he literally just came. I texted you. He's friends with the host, Jake, I didn't know." she has an apologetic face and I check my phone to realise she did text me about it. Fucking hell.
I can feel his blue eyes on my body, burning it like daggers on fire. I try to avoid him as much as possible and the fact that he looks this good, doesn't make it very easy. His hands are shoved into the pockets of his jeans and I can't help but steal a few glances. He's already looking at me. He's smirking.
Fucking asshole.
"Hi, pretty." he is next to me now, dangerously close to me, as I take a sip of my drink.
"What do you want, Chris?" I roll my eyes.
"That's not how you treat your ex." he scoffs, looking around playfully before looking at me again. I turn my head to look at him, too.
"Let's not open that topic here." I try to push him away, his body doesn't really move.
"I agree. Let's talk about the car sex we had a few days ago." he smiles and you would think he's talking about the most innocent thing. His hands still in his pockets, he looks cool and unfazed by my angry glare.
"Shut the fuck up, Chris. Don't you have anywhere else to go, anything else to do?" I yell. Now I'm facing him, my body turned towards him.
"I'd like to do you." he comes closer to my ear and I sigh, downing my drink before turning my back on him. I am afraid I won't be able to hold myself back this time either.
"Well, I don't."
"Yeah?" his chin is touching my shoulder and I can feel his jeans pressed against my butt, "so if I touched you now, you wouldn't be wet?" he hums.
I am not wet. I am dripping. But that doesn't mean anything, right.
"You're not allowed to touch me anyway." I dodge his fucking question.
"Well, you weren't saying that when you were pressed against the car door." he chuckles, "you're wet, then." he whispers but it's enough for me to hear.
"Not for you. Maybe for your friend, Jake." I smirk, knowing this will stop his attack. He's always been extremely jealous. So have I.
"Fuck you." he almost growls in my ear, but the smirk still stays on. He turns me around and as soon as he says that, one of our favourite songs starts to play. Les by Childish Gambino, "fuck you.. can I have this dance?"
I can't help but chuckle a little, which I try to hide immediately. The timing, the line he used from the song, this songs specifically, him. Fucking Chris.
I quickly grab him and drag him in the center of the room that we're in, he holds onto my hand tightly and brings me closer, pressing my back against his chest. We dance to the music, he's not moving much but I can tell he's enjoying the little show I put on for him. My butt is pressed against him then whole time and I can feel the bulge in his jeans. Good.
I turn around and continue to dance with him, my hands traveling to his back to grip his shirt and pull him as close as possible. The part in the song that we love the most comes on and he cups my cheeks, pressing his forehead against mine as he looks into my eyes. We're both singing the lyrics.
"Oh, girl, I wanna know, are you ready to cry? 'Cause I'm no good, no good.." his playful smile never leaves his face.
"Oh, girl, I wanna try, I'm an awful guy and I'm always away.." my lips curl up into a playful smirk as well, my hands sneak under his shirt and I dig my nails into his lower back.
"And I'm tryin' to say, I'm a piece of shit.." he stops singing and the next second, he's kissing me. I fucking hate myself for kissing him back as hungrily as I did.
He grabs my hand and makes me follow him – nothing else matters, as the song says. Only us. We practically run up the stairs and I see a wooden door, he seems like he knows this place. My friend did tell me he's friends with the host.
He opens the door and then locks it once we're inside the room. It's a bathroom, not very big and the light is so dim, I'm not sure if it is there to match the party's vibe or if this dude just doesn't like actual lighting in the house. We don't waste anytime – Chris picks me up and sets me down on the counter next to the sink, my dress rides up just enough for him to move closer, pushing my legs apart with his body. We can still hear the music from here.
I take his shirt off immediately, throwing it somewhere behind him before wrapping a finger around his chain, pulling him closer for yet another hungry kiss. He grabs the hem of the dress to push it up, my skin meeting the cold counter but it is soon replaced by Chris' large hands. He squeezes my butt, pushing me forward so that his bulge rubs against me. He sneaks a hand in between us, his fingers rubbing my soaked panties.
"Is this for Jake, hm?" he grabs my bottom lip in between his teeth, biting it roughly.
"Maybe." I moan, leaning forward to take his nipple in my mouth, flicking it with my tongue.
He moans, "why are you here then?" he puts pressure on my clothed pussy and let go of his nipple, throwing my head back.
"Fuck off." I groan, moving my hips so that I'm rubbing myself on his fingers.
"You're dying to have my dick inside of you." he whispers, chuckling.
"And you're dying to have me in any way you can." I push him away, jumping off the counter and quickly pulling his jeans down together with his Calvin Klein boxers, "isn't that why you keep following me around, hm?" spitting on my own hand, I grab his dick, rubbing up and down while staring into his eyes the whole time. They're filled with lust, anger, passion. He moans.
"Fuck off." he groans this time, his head falls on my shoulder as I jerk him off, both of his hands grab the counter on each side of me. He thrusts into my hand.
All of a sudden, he slaps my hand away and turns me around, making me press both of my hands on the mirror in front of us, pushing my lower back down so that I arch my back and spread my legs. His hands are on my breasts now, pushing my dress now so that they're free for him to see and touch. With one hand he pushes the dress up to reveal my ass as well, the dress now only covering my stomach and a small part of my back. I don't dare to move, I only watch him as he pulls my panties down – he spreads my ass and spits, not that he needed that, I'm already dripping.
"What the fuck are you waiting for?" I groan, pushing my back against him.
"Beg for it." he slaps my ass a few times as he smirks.
"Chris, fucking hell. Fuck me already." I say but he's not pleased. He slaps my skin again and I groan, gently hitting the mirror out of frustration. His cock rubs against my clit and I lose it, "fucking.. Chris! Please, fuck me. I want you inside me." I whine. He smiles. Thank fuck.
He finally pushes inside of me and my eyes roll to the back of my head as I look at him in the reflection of the mirror. He pushes his cock all the way inside me and grabs my hair in a ponytail, wrapping it around his hand to push me back every time he thrusts in.
"Fuck.. fuck.." I moan, licking my fingers before dragging them down my body to rub my clit, always looking at him, as he fucks me roughly. My fingers touch his dick every now and then, it makes him moan a little louder. He leans forward to sink his teeth into the skin of my shoulder as he watches me cry out in both pain and pleasure – with his free hand, he grabs my hand that was rubbing my clit, bringing to his mouth to lick the juices off my fingers. I almost cum.
My breasts bounce with every movement, he thrusts into me and I push back against him. He pulls out of me and I curse under my breath. He turns me around and places me on the countertop again, wrapping an arm around my waist as he guides his dick so that he can start fucking me hard again. I grab a fistful of his hair, tugging it harshly when he pushes into me; it makes him lightly slap my cheek before wrapping his fingers around my neck, choking me. I gasp and slap him back, grabbing his throat with my hand, too.
"I fucking hate you." I moan, his eyes staring into mine.
"Yeah.. turns me on.. love it." he moans and smirks, and that's all it takes for me to come closer to my high.
"Chris.. Chris.. I'm gonna.." I whine and he lets go of my neck, hugging me close and pressing his forehead against mine as I let go of his neck as well.
"That's it, baby.. fuck.. will you cum for me? Hm?" he says and that's closest thing to affection that we showed tonight. I nod and moan loudly, holding onto him as tight as I can. I cum, trembling, and he does the exact same thing, moaning my name over and over again.
We stay like this for God knows how long – he's still inside of me and I almost pass out in his arms, his hand rubs my back soothingly.
"You okay?" he whispers, as if it was a crime to be affectionate with each other again. We used to be together after all.
"Yes.. you?" I whisper back, the feeling of not wanting to let go of him just yet comes back and I try to push it away as fast as I can.
"I am okay, yes." he mumbles and after letting me know, he slowly pulls out of me, earning a wince from me, "sorry." he mutters.
"Do you want me to take you home?" he says and I sigh. This is wrong.
"It's best if you don't." I whisper, looking at him and I can see the vulnerability in his eyes too.
"That's true." he nods and fixes my dress, pushing his boxers and pants up right after.
"I still hate you." I mutter. I don't want him to leave.
"Yeah." he wears his shirt, he grabs my chin and leaves a sweet kiss on my lips, "me too."
And with that, he leaves.
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spooky-something · 4 months
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You dudes think you guys are cringe???? You dudes think your Frankenstein hyperfixation/Special interest is bad??? Embarrassing???? Cringy???? You feel like a loser for it???
WELL DON'T, BECAUSE WE GOT A FUCKING PHYSICAL COPY OF A FRANKENSTEIN FANFIC FOR CHRISTMAS....
I WISH THIS WAS A FUCKING JOKE, BECAUSE THIS GOES CRAZY... /Srs
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cappy-town-gazette · 3 days
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Check out this cool fan-comic created by MixedUpMagpie on DeviantArt. It takes place after the events of Fright to the Finish and attempts to string the plots of the anime and games together. It's been in development for 3 years now, and I'm sure they'd really appreciate it if you read it.
If DeviantArt isn't your cup of tea, there's a mirror of the comic on ComicFury.
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Ok so I have never really written fanfic, I remember a very short BSG character/relationship study like thing, a couple of SGA drabbles, and much earlier I think some Visual系 RPF smut. And all that was more than a decade and a half ago. (And yeah, they're all deleted, forgotten and gone. 😅)
But during the last few months I have seemed to have developed some kind of ... itch. A couple of times now I have written the sentence "somebody please write that fic", and then immediately thought "well, maybe I could do it...?"
Maybe it has something to do with my newly acquired franchise fatigue, that I am still getting used to and which I do not know how it will play out. Will it go away again? Will I get back into all those fandoms I currently feel violently disinterested in? Or is it here to stay?
I had times without hyperfixations before, but I always had a lot of fandoms, both hibernating and active, and so much new stuff I was looking forward to. I never had enough time to watch/read all the things I wanted to. I only ever read short and completed fanfics (and mostly just to scratch a very specific itch) because I simply felt I didn't have time for the longer, more complicated stuff; at least not when there are so many original stories out there I haven't even started yet. Now I have 2 hyperfixations and ... everything else is kinda 'meh'. 🤷
My current medication also seems to help a lot, it is still an uphill battle, but I am (slowly) getting better again.
So maybe I have finally the headspace to interact with my hyperfixations in a more creative and productive manner again? I mean, I have even come out of the lurker shadows and written original posts with (a little) meta and analysis about both Good Omens and Our Flag Means Death, I had not done that in a very long while, as well.
Sooooooooo.........
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doottle · 10 months
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The r/pics vote is done, users are now encouraged to post any and all John Oliver Content, including fanfics. My question to tumblr is, what comes to your mind at the phrase “fan-fiction erotic enough to make nuns literally explode”?
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ivbelle · 1 year
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SKYFALLENSHIPPING MINI-FIC
For some reason a couple days ago out of nowhere I had a dream about Akari and Rei. So I wrote a mini-fic basically about what I dreamt about. Also some bonus sketches.
 I have never played Legends of Arceus nor do I know what even happens in it except some basic things. Therefore, this is an AU where what I’m saying happened. Also idc if LOA isn’t popular anymore I’m always late on trends. Hope you enjoy it though. 
CONTEXT of AU: Akari and Rei formed a very strong bond while together. Unlike in the games(?), Akari has to return to her old world, leaving Rei behind. Her absence ends up with him in turmoil and loneliness. He keeps a journal, and every other entry he writes to her - not only to repress how much he misses her but to express his thoughts.
 . . .
Journal Entry 1,134    X/X/X
Dear Akari,
Yesterday, the evening reminded me of you. There was a faint thought in the back of my mind remembering your eyes and thinking that the night's shade of blue was almost as beautiful as yours.
That must have been why I dreamt about you. 
I guess, even after all this time, I still couldn’t get you out of the corners of my mind. 
There is a part of me that refuses to forget the way your mouth smiled, the hue of blue that was your hair and the way it drifted behind you as the air caressed it. 
A foolish part of me believes you are still here. Why else does my heart ache at the thought of you?
Still, I’m forgetting. I know I am. Your presence, with every second that it is gone, fades ever so slightly. Your laugh is an echo slowly being buried deep, tainted, under fresh laughter – All this against my will. 
Yet, nothing before you seems to exist either. It seems that there has only ever been you. That time existed only then. And now, now there is nothing. 
Akari, the truth is, I often find myself thinking you never left. I sometimes turn a corner and helplessly believe you are there. Some mornings I wake up in a cold sweat of relief, believing this was all a nightmare and that you are still here beside me. The most awful part of these mornings is the realization. My chest aches just as painfully as it did back then. 
Last night was not this dream, however. No, instead I was tortured with the memory of that afternoon in its entirety. I found you standing by the cliffs, fields of wheat and long grass being rocked by the wind. I remember following after you, unsure why my hands were so unsteady. 
I think. . . somehow I knew you wouldn’t stay forever. All beautiful things are temporary things. Like the morning glory, I only got to gaze at your beauty once. I had known this, and yet, I could not understand why my hands were so anxious to hang on. . . You must have known I felt it too. 
That day, you were mostly quiet. Truth be told, you always were somewhat reserved, but that day was different. It was an uncertain kind of silence. The kind that is like glass – one that shouldn’t be broken. 
I approached you cautiously like a curious animal, even though you already knew I was there. Were your eyes embracing the landscape for the last time? Or were you absently watching the way the wind cradled the earth? I sometimes wonder.
It was you who spoke first in that soft, regretful voice. 
“I’m going to miss this place. The village and the Pokémon.”
I had said nothing. My eyes were afraid to leave your hair. 
“I’m going to miss. . .the people. . . the atmosphere. . .and . . .” You turned to me, slowly, and your eyes fell onto mine. 
“I’m going to miss you, Rei. I’m going to miss you most.” 
At that moment, it was as if my mind had refused to think. My mouth was frozen in its pathetic silence, and for a moment, so were my hands. 
I wish I could say our gaze said it all. But they didn’t. There were many unspoken things in that space between us. Maybe you waited for my answer. Maybe if I had said something, you would have found yourself unable to leave. But no, my words were trapped in my throat. My feelings were locked in my chest. 
Our gaze was the last thing tying us together before you were lost forever. I finally understood the pathetic desperation of the ocean that claws at the sand to reach the Earth. . .
I had relived this moment for so long in my imagination as if longing for it enough would change anything.
Now there is nothing more to be said except what I couldn't. I love you Akari, and while I still spend some nights hoping on some miracle that you turned back, I have yet to see your face. So, this is my goodbye. 
Signed, 
Rei
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koko-duckiee · 9 months
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Sunny's Home (Omari/Omori au) (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/story/348049428-sunny%27s-home-omari-omori-au?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_myworks&wp_uname=Koko_duckiee&wp_originator=yGHl4Q6hb%2F2D14ow0x5TvuwQN3PtcgeuNCK8H8Qbjp3gLSu%2FpMjkUkpDXJdRngC52suvE63BCkJ9%2FvvQAUYQNI1pnVXQ3Jh1oFh9giAtUCan3fmbdg%2Fp%2B62DXGqo7cY8 
 After a fatal incident between Sunny and Mari, Sunny comes back home... but he's dead right...? (This takes place in an Omari au where Sunny and Mari switched places) You can remix this story if you want to. (Please credit me) If you're just inspired you don't have to credit me.
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your-local-weird-frogs · 11 months
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aceospadesart · 1 year
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High school AUs are for Wattpad fanfic writers. College AUs are for AO3 fanfic writers.
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eiradark25 · 9 months
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Hier findet ihr meinen Wattpad Account:
Ich würde mich freuen, wenn ihr dort mal vorbeischauen würdet.
Die erste Season von "Ouran Host Club: Bedingungslose Liebe und Schicksal" ist frisch überarbeitet und wird ab dem 09.08. wieder als Abgeschlossen gelten.
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byechristopher · 5 months
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In Another Life.
– CHRIS STURNIOLO ANGST.
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Author's note: omg hi, again. You'll soon find out how much I love angst, trauma and just "dark" fics. It's a way to express myself every once in a while. I hope you all like it, if you have any requests in mind, feel free to let me know. I will make it up to you all with some fluff, I promise, lol. Do not copy/steal my work. :)
Warnings: (not proof-read) this is pure angst, mentions of death, coping with death in general, trauma bonding. If any of this is triggering to you, do not read, please. Have a great day, instead.
Playlist:
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It is only 6:00AM and I am up and running, ready to start my long day, although my sluggish gait says otherwise. I always loved waking up so early in the morning – it gave me time to start doing things when people were still sleeping. It is always a struggle to keep myself awake, though.
"I'm outside."
The screen lights up and I can see Chris' name from here – he must be outside already. I sigh and I quickly put my jacket and scarf on, not forgetting my boots, of course. With my bag in my hand, I quickly leave the house, trying to be as quiet as possible so that my mom doesn't wake up.
Chris is waiting in the car, I take a better look at my surroundings – the fog makes it hard for me to see, it's dark and it's cold, and the humidity makes it look like it rained.
"Hey, Chris. Thanks for picking me up." I mumble, he nods with an understanding look on his face. He's got that sickening purple colour under his eyes and his skin is even paler than usual. We match, he looks like a mess, too.
How couldn't he, anyway? It was a difficult day today. It's only been three years and how could we ever forget?
Me and Chris have known each other for a long time. Ever since we were babies – our families were very close. That was until my parents got divorced and we never saw my father ever again; made my mom isolate herself. My father came back one day, asking for forgiveness for leaving like this. Not from my mom, from me. I didn't want to trust him but I still talked to him every now and then. Now, Chris never really liked me and I never really liked him, it's not like we ever had an actual conversation. Before something terrible happened, to the both of us. On the same day. On the same plane. The plane crashed – my father happened to be there and Chris' best friend happened to be there.
We were both devastated so we found ourselves hanging out more than usual – is it called trauma bonding? I think so. That's what we did. Bonded over trauma. Because that's what we needed most; a person who knows and feels what we feel, who goes through the same experience. I don't think it was he healthiest thing to do, but who is really healthy inside on this earth?
"Give me, like.. fifteen minutes. I'll be back, okay?" he says and I give him a reassuring hug, pecking his cheek. I nod, watching him go visit his best friend's grave while I visit my father's.
"I can't believe it's already been three years since you've been gone." I chuckle, making sure everything is clean and the flowers are nicely put in the vase, "right when you were about to actually spend time with me, hm?" I can feel the tears in my eyes, and every time I speak, it's like I'm digging an invisible knife deeper into my heart.
I don't know how long it's been because I'm still cleaning and trying not to think about anything, but I see Chris walking over to me. It's so obvious that he's been crying, but he offers a smile anyway. His nose is red, it's kind of cute.
"You feeling okay?" he wraps an arm around my shoulders, giving me a reassuring squeeze. I nod.
"What did I always tell you? Everything happens for a reason." I chuckle, wiping the tears away from my eyes as we walk away, and towards the car.
"I used to hate hearing that. But I believe it now." he nods and clears his throat, "Connor believed it, too." it took him a while to say his best friend's name without crying. I told him that Connor wouldn't be happy to see him crying like this – that was the only way to make him stop.
"I gotta go to work, now. But we'll meet later, yes?" I say, wrapping my arms around his waist, looking up. The combination of the sky, his tears and his pale skin make his eyes go icy blue, I can't help but smile a little bit. He nods and cups my cheeks, bringing me closer to him to give me a soft kiss on the lips.
I'm not sure what me and Chris have going on. We definitely hang out a lot, we kiss, I basically have all of my stuff in his house, we have sex, but we've never said anything about relationship, or anything like that for that matter. We've been going through the most traumatic and difficult experience in our lives, so I feel like we desperately need the affection but we're the only ones who feel the same. So we just.. do stuff together. I try not to think about it too much.
I definitely not want to think about it when I'm in his arms. We're in front of the fireplace, sitting down on the carpet. I'm sitting in between his legs with my back pressed against his chest, and his arms wrap all the way around my shoulders and knees (that are pressed to my chest), keeping me warm.
"I'm so glad to have you here with me, being by my side on this horrible day, every year." he whispers in my ear and I close my eyes.
"So am I. You're making me feel like I'm not as alone as I thought I was." I whisper back and let my head fall on his shoulder, turning my head so that I'm able to look up at him. We sit in silence for a bit.
"I was thinking.. what you always say. Everything happens for a reason. What if.. what if all of this never happened? What if they were both still alive, what if our families kept being this close, what if we kept hating each other.. would we still find a way to be where we are now?" his voice is low and steady, I can see the fire moving in the reflection of his glistening eyes, "or was this tragedy meant to happen for us to find what we wanted in each other?"
I stay silent for a little bit. I've thought about this a million times and every time makes me go crazier than the previous one, "is love supposed to grow in souls and bodies that are filled with so much pain? Because if so, then it's nothing like what they taught us love would feel like."
"Do you think love is what we feel for each other?" he presses a kiss on my warm cheek.
"I don't know." I say truthfully, "I think that we both find shelter in each other's pain. We feel the need to be heard, to be understood, and then we want to hear the other, to understand their pain. To help each other, to be there whenever they might need, to care."
"Isn't that what love is?" he asks innocently, "in its most tragic form?" he looks me in the eyes and smiles softly.
"I suppose so.. yeah.." I say because, indeed, love could also bloom in shattered hearts, it doesn't always have to be flowers and rainbows, "and to answer your question.. I think I would definitely imagine myself loving you, without all of these." my voice is as soft as it can get.
"I would definitely fall in love with you, too." he says, looking into my eyes. And for a moment, I imagine us just like this. In a life where we would be happier. In a life where we would be able to love each other, without anything holding us back, in a life where we could keep the people that we wanted in our lives. In a life where we would have the space and time to express our feelings, understand our feelings.
"So, stay with me forever and even longer than that.." he says and I smile, leaving a trail of kisses on his neck, all the way up to his cheek and lips, "I might be able to become someone who loves you even in the good times."
"That's a promise, then. Because I'm definitely staying, till I'm ready to love you in the good times, too." I smile and slowly turn around to face him this time, wrapping both of my arms and legs around him, like a koala.
He laughs, he's hugging me and kissing me softly, "want me to make you some hot chocolate?"
"Yes, please."
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lord-winterman · 11 months
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Into Black Ch. 16
Hey! Another chapter posted inside of a few weeks instead of a few months!  Or years. Whatever. Whether it’s of anything resembling quality is for you to decide. Here are the links.
FFN: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13380024/16/Into-Black
AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20128642/chapters/120732100
Maybe with some luck, I’ll post another drawing. Or just keep up with Tumblr in general. Fingers crossed.
Winterman, out.
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aikrathecat · 1 year
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schreibenwelt · 1 year
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Die Lavavögel
Vor dem jungen, rothaarigen Mann erhob sich ein alter Turm. Er sprang vom Rücken seines Rosses hinab und trat auf den Turm zu. In diesem dichten Wad voll alter, dunkler Bäume gab es keinen Weg, kein Leben. Nur diesen alten Turm mit gigantischem Durchmesser. Seine hinteren Wände 
verschwanden wieder im Dunkel des Dickichts. Der junge Mann war allein, nur sein Pferd hatte ihn bis hierher begleitet, all seine Freunde hatten ihn verlassen. Selbst sein Gedächtnis war nicht mehr mit ihm, er hatte vergessen, warum er zu diesem Turm vorgedrungen war. Dennoch betrat er ihn. Er folgte den Steinplatten im Inneren durch ein Labyrinth aus alten Wänden. Alles im Inneren des Turmes war kahl. Es gab keine Teppiche, keine Fenster, kein Mobiliar. Noch nicht einmal Fackeln, dennoch war es warm und hell im Inneren des Turmes. Sein Weg führte ihn immer im Kreis, spiralig tiefer in den Turm hinein. Er lief und lief und lief. Schließlich erreichte er einen Raum. Über ihm, viele zig Meter hoch, klaffte ein Loch in der Decke des Turms. Hinter ihm schlossen sich die Türen in den Raum, vor ihm befand sich ein geschlossenes Fallgitter, welches den Zugang zum nächsten Raum versperrte.
"Der Ausgang befindet sich im nächsten Raum. Wenn wir die Tür irgendwie öffnen können, können wir den Turm wieder verlassen. Ansonsten werden wir hier drin sterben."
Erschrocken fuhr der junge Mann herum, er hatte niemanden in dem Raum bemerkt, der mit ihm hätte sprechen können. Hinter ihm trat lächelnd ein weiterer Mann hervor. Er war ebenfalls jung, trug blonde Locken und eine silberglänzende Rüstung. Im Gegensatz zum Rothaarigen trug er zudem Pfeil, Bogen und Schwert bei sich. Der Rothaarige schnappte nach Luft:
"Wer seid Ihr?"
"Das tut nichts zur Sache", der Blonde schüttelte den Kopf: "Hier, nehmt! Ich hoffe, Ihr könnt damit umgehen. Wir werden bald Besuch bekommen."
Er reichte dem Rothaarigen sein Schwert und deutete auf das Loch in der Decke, während er in Ruhe eine Sehne auf seinen Bogen spannte. Durch die Öffnung kreisten langsam fünf fliegende Gestalten näher. Der Rothaarige erprobte einen Moment sein Schwert und sah dann auf die Wesen. Diese hatten mittlerweile den Boden erreicht und die jungen Männer eingekreist. Es waren Greife, rot mit schwarzen Mähnen und bösen, goldenen Augen. In ihren Adlerschnäbeln befanden sich Schlangenzungen. Der Größte von ihnen trat vor:
"So, da haben wir ja unsere Beute. Wie schön, gleich zwei Menschen in unserem Labyrinth!"
Die anderen Mischwesen gaben lachende, keckernde Laute von sich, die dem Rothaarigen einen Schauder über den Körper jagten. Der Blonde hingegen blieb ruhig, überprüfte die Befiederung seiner Pfeile und wandte sich an den Rothaarigen:
"Bleibt ruhig. Sie können Euch nichts anhaben, wenn wir sie töten. Ich hoffe, Ihr seid bereit."
Der Rothaarige nickte und stürzte sich mit einem lauten Schrei auf einen der Greife. Dieser stieß sich vom Boden ab, erhob sich etwas in die Luft und fiel, von einem Pfeil durchbohrt, wieder zu Boden. Er war tot. Dieses Schicksal teilte ein zweiter, ein dritter und ein vierter Greif. Der fünfte, der größte, derjenige der Greifen, der zu Anfang gesprochen hatte, wich rücklings zurück. Das Gittertor öffnete sich und gab den Durchgang in den nächsten Raum frei. Der Greif knurrte.
"Ihr seid gut, ihr dürft gehen. Futter wie euch verschmähen wir, solange es noch lebt!"
Die beiden jungen Männer steckten ihre Waffen ein und betraten den nächsten Raum. Der Boden war mit wabenförmigen Platten bedeckt, sieben an der Zahl. Sie alle trugen Symbole. Der Blonde sprang behände auf eine der Platten und rief den Rothaarigen zu sich:
"Kommt her! Das sind Elementplatten. Es werden sich diejenigen zu heben beginnen, deren Greifen wir erschlagen haben. Das hier ist die Platte der Erde. Der Erdhüter ist sicherlich tot."
Zögernd folgte der Rothaarige der Aufforderung, kurz darauf hob sich die Platte gen Himmel. Mit ihr brachen auch drei andere Platten auf. Aus den Löchern begann Lava aufzusteigen. Der überlebende Greif lachte schallend.
"Ihr begreift schnell. Doch Ihr habt etwas vergessen, mein Freund! Wir sind unsterblich und wenn meine Gefährten aufwachen, wird Eure Plattform in die Lava stürzen, ehe Ihr den Ausgang erreicht!"
Die jungen Männer konnten bereits den Ausgang, eine Tür an der Spitze des Turms, erblicken, als die ersten Platten ihren Zauber verloren und in die Lava stürzten. Zitternd sank der Rothaarige zusammen: "Er hatte recht! Wann ereilt uns das Schicksal? Wann stürzen wir ab?"
"Keine Angst", der Blonde strich ihm über das Haar: "Wir werden springen, wenn die Platte an Flug verliert. Wir schaffen es aus dem Turm."
Nun begann auch die Erdplatte zu wanken. Tief unter ihnen sahen die beiden jungen Männer alle fünf Greife wieder versammelt. Der Flug der Platte wurde langsamer, sie schien nun in der Luft zu stehen. Der Blonde griff den Rothaarigen und sprang. Wie durch ein Wunder erreichten sie die Tür, als die Platte in die Lava stürzte. Die Greife jaulten auf, ihrer Beute beraubt. Der Rothaarige verließ den Turm und stand am Waldrand, neben ihm sein Ross. Er blickte sich um, um sich zu bedanken, doch sein Gefährte war verschwunden. Er war wie zuvor allein mit seinem Ross.
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wildehopps3428 · 2 years
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Guardian Blue Fanfiction (Must Read!)
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two-bits-beer · 2 years
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So I just got an account and I want to do some gang imagines so please send some requests. I will do anyone except the shepherd boys, I don't know enough about them so sorry. I will do fluff,smut,ships, just about anything.
Stay gold💛
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