Uh-Oh!

Call me Ano or Crow - Any pronouns work - Blog for writing

[chronicallycrow]

i need someone to make this decision for me bc I'm indecisive and can't decide what to start

What Phantom of the Opera/MCYT fic should I start writing?

DSMP (Sally/Wilbur)

Ranchers (Tango is the Phantom)

Voting ended onJul 1, 2024

[chronicallycrow]

I can see what you all want, and -

the better question now is who takes Carlottas role and who gets hung(? hurt? something's gonna happen) by tango

feel free to give me ideas in tags or asks?

[chronicallycrow]

i need someone to make this decision for me bc I'm indecisive and can't decide what to start

What Phantom of the Opera/MCYT fic should I start writing?

DSMP (Sally/Wilbur)

Ranchers (Tango is the Phantom)

Voting ended onJul 1, 2024

[chronicallycrow]

Ask game

Home is wherever I'm with you

4

4: What's your favorite line of dialogue?

Probably this one;

"“I’m not gonna leave you, not gonna leave my home, promise.” "

It's a very soft moment. I just love the two of them so much and that line feels like my whole, just feeling of how they are towards each other. I imagine Tango always feels at home around Jimmy and vice versa, so just, you know. Rancher boys in love.

Ask Game

Fanfic

[chronicallycrow]

Home Is Whenever I'm With You

Fandom: Traffic Light Series / Empires / Hermitcraft

Relationship(s): Team Rancher

Word Count: 2,393

CW: N/A

Ao3 Link

It was so fast, Jimmy’d always hated the moments after he died and would spawn back in the SMP he’d been in before, his whole body still felt sore as if the wounds were still open, that he was still bleeding and could still feel the eyes on him as he died. Worse off this time he’d taken someone with him, and he didn’t even get to say goodbye this time. Tears welled up in Jimmy’s eyes as he fell to the floor, knees hitting the wood hard enough to bruise them, and he quietly swore then, making an apology to a soulmate he was no longer bound with. And when he realized that Tango wasn’t bound to him anymore and that he’d lost him, possibly for good, the tears came harder.

His wings curled around him as he wailed, and all he could do was put his head in his hands and cry, making a million apologies to someone who wasn’t with him anymore. He was first out, the curse continued, and he’d taken Tango with him, and Tango had loved him so much, and he had felt so safe with Tango - He let out another choked sob. It wasn’t like he could even go to Scott or Joel for comfort right now, as much as he wouldn’t want to in the first place, they weren’t even here right now, still on Double Life and still alive. And it wasn’t like anyone else in the server would understand - He thought maybe, if he could get himself up, he could go to Lizzie, but would she even really understand what had happened, how frustrated he was that he died first again? He was always out first. Always. And void, did he hate that stupid canary curse.

As the days went on, more and more people came back. Scott was last. Jimmy thought having his friends back, around him - Both of them had come to check on him the moment they got back - Would help him feel better. Instead it just made it worse. He’d tried to talk to them about it, a little bit, but it always ended with him in tears, crying over and over again about Tango. He missed the way he could feel the heat radiating off of him, how when they hugged he felt secure- He missed their ranch, all of their cows, how Tango helped him keep all of them - And he wailed more and more for his lost love. More and more for the curse he’d brought upon Tango when they got bound. More and more because this was all his fault, and he was sure if he ever saw Tango again Tango was going to hate him. He got Tango out first, why wouldn’t he?

Every time Jimmy saw someone acting sweet, even to their friends, his heart ached. Every time he’d watch people be romantic, kiss, his heart hurt. It felt like someone had took an arrow to his chest and then pulled it out, only to shoot it back in. It was hard for him to even go out and do anything. Of course, his friends got concerned for him, but he never really told them what was going on. His eyes always looked glazed over, his actions dull and repetitive. What was he supposed to do here now? What was he supposed to do without Tango? He could barely even look at the fires and pieces of red stone he’d fine without wanting to fall to the floor again.

Then there was the news of the portal. Despite how depressed Jimmy felt he felt a tug, somewhere in his chest, to go see who would come through. And when the first person he was was Grian he wanted to run, he felt sick. Whiplash of everything from Double Life came back, even harder, and he had to turn away and run to not break down there. Grian had watched his friend - If he could be considered that anymore, anyway - Run off, and a pang of guilt sunk in his chest. Unfortunately for Jimmy, Grian soon got distracted with other things. He didn’t even remember to tell Jimmy that Tango was here now.

Jimmy could hear the footsteps outside of his house, hear people mingling and talking like everything was alright. He curled his wings around himself again, head sinking into his knees as he choked back sobs. He might as well let them all have their fun, after all they hadn’t really done anything too wrong here. He felt the tug on his chest again, but it only made him cry harder. He wanted to hit himself, wanted to hurt himself to give punishment for killing Tango. He bit down on his lip, hard enough to draw blood, to hold back his sobs and stop any urge.

Then he heard them, footsteps in his house, and he’d never been more scared. What if someone’s first impression of him was this? A pathetic man crying on the floor over a lost love who probably had forgotten about him or didn’t love him anymore. He wanted to clean himself up, to get up and act like everything was okay, but he couldn’t. Instead he sat there on the floor beside his bed, curled up into as small of a ball as he could manage, wings wrapped around him and hiding him from whatever, or whoever, was about to stumble onto him.

“I don’t know why you’re looking for him, but yeah, this is his house. Usually he’s here?” Fwhip, was talking to someone. Someone was looking for him, dammit, dammit, if they found him like this- He didn’t even want to know what would happen. He flinched even more when he heard the footsteps right outside his door. It sounded like two people walked up, then- Fwhip had said something about needing to go, and - He heard one pair of footsteps walk away. The other person was still outside his door. And he hated the way he cowered and trembled at the idea of someone coming in on him like this.

There was a soft knock on the door, the knob turning, and then - “Jim?” His voice was so soft, and when Jimmy heard it he wanted to run to it and simultaneously tell him to go away and never come back. When he felt Tango’s eyes on him he expected him to berate him, yell at him for getting them killed. That wasn’t what happened at all, though. Instead, he heard the footsteps rushing towards him, he curled up more, and then he felt those warm hands pull away his wings ever so gently. “Jimmy?” He asked again, and it sounded like Tango was going to start crying.

Jimmy sucked in a breath, wanting to say a million things, but all he could actually manage out was an array of apologies and more tears. He was shaking, he was shaking and crying and his rancher was holding him again and he wanted to rush into his arms but he knew he couldn’t. “Oh, Jimmy-” Tango managed out, and Jimmy could hear the tears slipping down his cheeks now. He didn’t have time to wonder if they should be evaporating or not. “Oh, Jim, why are you sorry-?” He asked, rushedly, hands clasping around Jimmy’s cheeks. Jimmy looked up at Tango, and the tears came more. He didn’t even have time to think about how different he looked right now, and his eyes locked with Tango’s and he let out more choked sobs.

“I got us killed-” Jimmy wailed, eyes shutting so fast again that tears splattered from his lashes. “I got us killed and got us out first and you probably hate me and I- I--” He took a deep gasp in, air not seeming to be his friend anymore. Maybe he really was getting stuck in a coalmine. “Oh, baby-” Tango managed out, tears steadily falling down his cheeks now, too. “Jimmy, no, no-” His hands went from Jimmy’s face to his back, pulling him closer to himself. “No, baby, no- I don’t hate you- I couldn’t hate you, Void Jimmy, no-” And that just made Jimmy cry more, head finding its place on Tango’s shoulder.

“You should!!” Jimmy wailed again, arms finally grasping around Tango and holding him so tightly as to convince himself Tango was real, that he wasn’t going to leave. “No, Jimmy, no- It’s not your fault, it’s not your fault.” Tango murmured, hands shifting around to rub the top of Jimmy’s shoulders. “Yes it is! I got us killed!” Jimmy sobbed, breaths so rugged and harsh the he thought he might pass out from lack of oxygen. “I got us killed all because of a stupid enderman and my shield broke and it wasn’t even supposed to break yet and--” “Catch your breath, baby, catch your breath-” Tango held him closer, and maybe in that moment he was also scared Jimmy was going to disappear from him again. “Grian told me, when he got back,” Tango started, and the way Jim flinched at that told Tango all he needed to know. “About what they do to you.” Tango continued, and that was all he needed to say for Jimmy to go back to hard sobs.

“It’s not your fault that they do that to you.” Tango continued, pushing Jimmy back ever so slightly to grab his face with his hands, thumbs rubbing on his cheeks, god they were so warm. “But I took you with me.” Jimmy whined, voice harsh from all the crying. Tango just shook his head softly, eyes meeting Jim’s. “I wouldn’t have changed a thing that happened, Rancher.” Jimmy let out another sob, and then he was falling back into Tango and grabbing onto him and crying harder. Tango wrapped his arms around Jimmy and let him cry, telling him all the while how it wasn’t his fault, how he couldn’t have changed anything. How none of this was his fault and how just because some gods like to push him into dying first didn’t mean he hated Jimmy at all.

Once Jimmy’s sobs had slowed he glanced up to Tango again. “Pr-Promise you don’t hate me?” He asked, and his tone made Tango’s heart break all over again. “Of course I don’t hate you, baby,” Tango pulled him in for a hug again, and Jimmy fell into him once more. “I could never hate you, Jimmy, I could never hate you.” “Okay,” It was so soft, so quiet, and all Tango wanted to do in that moment was hold Jimmy forever, never letting anything touch him or hurt him again.

Once Jimmy’s crying had fully stopped Tango got up and got him some tissues, cleaning off his face. Jimmy sat there and let him do it, not caring how gross he looked at this point. He was still shaking, breath still gone, and one of his hands was gripping Tango’s hard, still proving Tango was real and here with him.

“Here, baby, let’s go get you washed up, okay?” Jimmy nodded, and followed Tango up as he lead Jimmy to the bathroom and ran a rag under warm water. He wiped Jimmy’s face again, dried it, and then leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Now was when he really got a chance to see Jimmy’s face again. Dark circles lingered under his eyes, red and puffy from his tears. He looked like he hadn’t slept in ages, and that broke Tango. Granted, he hadn’t had the easiest time back at home when he’d lost Jimmy. He’d locked himself away and had almost burnt down several things having break downs over him.

“Please don’t go home,” Jimmy had murmured, almost out of no where. His voice was soft, hurt, scared. Tango bit his lip for a split second, considering his options. But he knew the voice in the back of his mind was right, he knew how he felt. “Jimmy,” Tango started, hand finding its way to his cheek, thumb rubbing circles in it. “You are my home.” He said, voice breaking a little bit. “But-” And then Jimmy was going back on his words. “I’m sure you have friends at home, and-” “Hey, Grian said that portal’s gonna stay. If I want to go visit them I can.” Tango explained, meeting eyes with Jimmy. “I might have lived there before I met you, but you’re my home. The ranch burnt down, our house got destroyed, but I was always home there, with you.” Another tear fell down Jimmy’s cheek, and he rushed forward to hug Tango again.

“I love you-” It came out in a barrage, several ‘I love you’s at once. Jimmy was crying again, looking up at Tango, he felt so fragile in that moment, like Tango was the only thing holding him together. But if that meant that Tango was holding him, he’d accept it. “I love you, too, Jim. I love you so much, you have no idea how much I love you.” Tango replied, leaning forward to press a kiss to Jimmy’s lips. “I’m not gonna leave you, not gonna leave my home, promise.” He added on, and Jimmy just nodded and pressed himself further into Tango.

After sitting like that in his bathroom for awhile, Jimmy let out a small yawn. Being this emotional was exhausting. Jimmy hadn’t cried like this, so sheer and so much, since he’d first came back from Double Life. Tango looked at the man in his arms and then stood up, offering him a hand. “Let’s go get you some sleep, okay, baby?” Jimmy nodded and took Tango’s hand, letting him lead him off to the bedroom. He got tucked into the sheets, glancing up at Tango. Void he didn’t want him to leave, and part of him was still so scared. “Tango- If you-” Jimmy started, but Tango just hushed him as he rid himself of his cloak and climbed into the bed with Jimmy. “I’m gonna have to get clothes tomorrow, but you can come with me, okay? You can see where I’m from.” Jimmy nodded, soft, and then curled himself around Tango, so warm and so comfy. And for the first time since coming back from Double Life, Jimmy really felt at home in his house.

[annaxbolina]

Reblog if you are a fanfiction author and would like your readers to put one of your fic titles in your ask + questions about it

[hsavinien]

1: What inspired you to write the fic this way?

2: What scene did you first put down?

3: What’s your favorite line of narration?

4: What’s your favorite line of dialogue?

5: What part was hardest to write?

6: What makes this fic special or different from all your other fics?

7: Where did the title come from?

8: Did any real people or events inspire any part of it?

9: Were there any alternate versions of this fic?

10: Why did you choose this pairing for this particular story?

11: What do you like best about this fic?

12: What do you like least about this fic?

13: What music did you listen to, if any, to get in the mood for writing this story? Or if you didn’t listen to anything, what do you think readers should listen to to accompany us while reading?

14: Is there anything you wanted readers to learn from reading this fic?

15: What did you learn from writing this fic?

[chronicallycrow]

Do not go toying with gods personal lives, lest you get burned and branded, scarred forevermore.

Erasure from all of history, a sacrifice, a toy is all you are to them.

Especially do not toy with the one who cries for blood, hearing the screams of tortured souls, screaming for more and more, crimson and scarlet and cheering in their ears as they slay more and more.

To them, you are a sacrifice, superficial, a mere drop of water in the ocean of people they could use.

Venerable as they may act around you, they are not naive, they've done this before, drawn in a child, such as yourself, and used them as their muse until they no longer need them, and then they throw them out, watching them ragdoll down the empty corridor.

Gods brand you, then erase you from all of history. They do not care about you, all they crave is your attention, it strengthens them.

Do not fall in love with the gods. They do not love you back, and will simply use you until they've sucked your life from you. Especially in this case, child, because you are the one who controls the body.

You do not know the god you cry to and say you love, you know nothing of them, they are a facade, a show, just to get near you.

Do not toy with the gods, lest you get burned and branded, lest they scar you forevermore.

[chronicallycrow]

Who wants some stupid vent writing?

Word count: 469

Nothing else is important. It's second POV, no names are mentioned, no characters were in mind for this. It's just vent writing.

“You’re so cruel.” You choked out through rugged breaths, fighting the tears that were burning on your waterline. “You can’t confirm who they are, but you imply it's them,” you continued, laying your head on your knees, pressing your eyes, now shut, into them to try and stop the waterfall that was to come. You let out a choked cry, it sounded painful. 

“I didn’t really want to know if it was them or not.” You murmured, pulling your knees closer to ball yourself up. “Because my hopes are going to get up now.” You began to cry now, tears soaking through the pants and into your bruised knees underneath. “And then, like everyone else, they’re going to leave. It’s what always happens. No one wants to stay. You’re going to get me excited and then pull them away from me, like you’ve done so many times before.” You cried out, breath shaking - No, not just breath, your whole body, now. 

“You tease me and lie, and then betray me. I’m so tired of it, I don’t even want to believe you at this point.” You took a breath in, nose starting to run. It was going to get hard to breathe soon. “Part of me does,” You added on, quietly. “Part of me wants to reach out and believe it, and believe that everything will be okay, and this is how things are meant to play out. But I can’t trust you.” You stood up now, staring at the door. It was open, empty. 

“It would be funny, wouldn’t it?” You began to muse, tears flooding down your cheeks, burning your skin, falling on the ground and threatening to form a river. “So funny!” You continued, sounding manic. “Such a funny joke! Haha, look at this! Look at how well these fit! It’s perfect, isn’t it?! Almost too perfect! Like a set up!” You hit the wall. It stings, your hands turning red. Your eyes are too blurry to see that, though, or see the bruises forming, how the skin’s been scraped away. 

“Haha! Look, I’m laughing so hard!” You cry out, making a pained laughing noise. “Such a funny joke!” You fell back against the wall you’d just hit. You hit it hard, with your whole body this time. You let yourself slump down, burying your face in your knees again. “You’re so cruel. Just let me be happy.” You sobbed, curling in on yourself. 

It put a blanket over you and hushed you. It had abused you, but It was the reason for life, the reason for continuing. And you hated It and loved It and wanted It to leave you alone forever, but cradle you in Its arms forever, never to leave. It was life, cruel and brutal, but beautiful and serene. You hated It.

[chronicallycrow]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Guess who's writing another fic? It's me! This one is a Sally/Wilbur one!

This is the link to chapter 4 because the first 3 chapters were a joke that I made to mess with a friend, and they're just short crack. This is where the story actually starts. (Or, at least, the non-crack version of it.)

I honestly really enjoyed writing Sally! Hope you enjoy this if you come across it!

[chronicallycrow]

Unreality and Imposters

Chapter Two - This is Wrong

Fandom: DSMP

Relationships: SBI as family, Clingyduo, implied Beeduo / Benchtrio

Wordcount: 1101

CW: N/A (Tell me if any apply and they will be added here, though!)

Notes: I got a laptop, which means I feel more comfortable writing and gauging how much I've written! Also, part of this is definitely inspired by the FNAF books, haha

Ao3 Link

Tubbo answered his phone, rubbing his eyes. He had been taking a nap when he'd gotten a call from Phil. Tommy was usually the one to call him, so he was immediately a bit concerned. When he heard the panic in Phil's voice, he fully woke up. "Tubbo- Have you seen Tommy?" Phil asked, anxiously glancing at Wilbur. They heard the door open, and Wilbur left to talk to Techno. "No, why?" Tubbo asked, moving to fully get up and slip on a pair of shoes. This couldn't be good. "We got in a fight and he left. We haven't seen him since, we-" Phil took a breath in, trying to calm himself and slow his speech. "We thought he might have come over to yours. He's not?" He asked, pushing himself off of the couch. Tubbo shook his head - Though Phil couldn't see that. "No, sorry-" "Right, we'll be over in a bit. We need to look for him." "Okay," Tubbo responded, letting out a small yawn as he grabbed a coat. The sun had almost fully set by now.

-

Techno hadn't seen Tommy either. He seemed less worried about it than the other two - At least on the outside. Internally, he was panicking. He had to stay calm, though. He had to stay the rock for his family. He sat in the passenger seat of the car as Phil drove, Wilbur sitting in the back seat, frantically texting anyone else who may have seen Tommy. Nobody had the answer any of them were looking for.

When they got to Tubbo's house he was waiting outside, fully awake now. The chill of outside had pushed any extra sleep from him. The moment he got into the car he could feel the tension. Wilbur was still vigorously tapping at his phone. The silence felt extremely loud. Tubbo wished he had brought his headphones. He was worried about his friend, but the tension and silence in the car made everything feel so much heavier. They weren't even playing any music. Tubbo tried to distract himself by making a beat tapping at his seat. Phil looked extra tired, and- Guilty. He looked guilty.

He pulled out of the driveway and began driving further into the town. Tubbo chewed at the inside of his cheek while he made his beat, trying not to have a panic attack - It was clear to him Wilbur already was. "Tubbo," Wilbur finally spoke, looking at the other. His eyes were bloodshot and glossy, like he had been close to crying for the past couple of hours - He probably had, Tubbo realized. "Is there any place Tommy might've gone we wouldn't know about?" Tubbo glanced out the window, lost in his thoughts for a moment, the glanced at Wilbur. "No, I don't think so- Did you check the forest?" Wilbur shook his head. "We're going to do that when we get back- Right?" Wilbur glanced at the back of the seat Techno was sitting in. He turned his head towards the two and gave a nod. "Yeah."

They sat in silence for awhile again. If the air wasn't so tense, it might've been nice to drive around like this at night. Tubbo remembered times he'd sleep over and him nor Tommy could sleep, so they'd ask Techno to take them on a night drive. It always made them tired. Tubbo usually fell asleep in the car. He couldn't even fathom sleeping now. His phone buzzed, but it wasn't anything important - It gave him an idea, though. "I'm going to call Ranboo." He announced, popping up his contacts and tapping on Ranboo's. It rung out, but he ultimately didn't answer. Tubbo let out a groan, letting his head fall against the window. He could feel tears welling up in his eyes. He took a shaky breath in and texted Ranboo.

-

After about an hour, the four had scouted the whole town. They'd gone to Tommy's favorite Mcdonald's, to all of the parks around, anywhere they could think Tommy might be - But he wasn't anywhere. Techno was starting to break. Wilbur was having a full on panic attack, shaking and trying to use breathing exercises to calm himself. Phil looked like he wanted to lay his head on the dashboard and fade away. Tubbo had actually began to cry.

Phil took a breath in, glancing back at Wilbur and Tubbo. "Tubbo, do you want to go home tonight?" Phil asked, his voice raspy and laced with pain. Tubbo shook his head. "Can I stay with you, if Tommy comes back?" Phil gave a nod. "Yeah, of course." With that, he started to drive home. It was clear he was trying to force himself to slow down, as it seemed like every time he let his mind wander the car would speed up. A couple of times he'd be tapped by Techno, telling him to slow down. It took them five minutes less than it should have to get home.

When they got home, something - No, someone, was sitting on the porch steps. Tubbo immediately shot up, getting out of the car. Phil and Techno followed suite, borderline running to the figure on the steps. Wilbur got out, and immediately felt like something was off.

There Tommy was, sitting on the step, looking up at them. "I tried to go in, but you guys locked the door!" Tommy- No, that wasn't Tommy, his voice was off. This wasn't right. This- This thing, it stood up, hugging Tubbo and Phil and Techno and - Looking at Wilbur. It's eyes were off. He shivered- That. Was no this brother. No way in hell was that his brother.

Everyone else went inside before Wilbur - Besides this thing, "Not-Tommy" he decided to call it. Wilbur walked up to it. It seemed slightly too tall to be Tommy, its features were slightly off. Wilbur blinked at it, then shoved his hands in his pockets. "I don't know what you are, but you're not my brother." He stated, shoving past the thing and into the house. "What do you mean?" It called out. It did a good impression of Tommy, but it wasn't spot on. Wilbur scoffed.

"I'm going to find out what you did to my brother, and you're going to pay." Wilbur stated, glaring at the thing before descending up the stairs to his room. He pulled out his phone and tried to text Tommy. The message didn't send. He let out a groan, hoping his brother was okay. He was going to get to the bottom of it and save him, no matter what it cost.

[chronicallycrow]

Hey someone on Wattpad has been stealing works from other authors and trying to pass them off as their own, I got alerted since both a Madeline and almond fics I wrote was included, I found your cinnamon cookie one too. The “author” is alyssacbatt

I'll look into it! Thank you for telling me!

[chronicallycrow]

You Wanted to Hate Him.

Fandom: DSMP

Relationship(s): Dream/Reader

Word Count: 634

CW: Derealization, Depersonalization, internal battle(?), Possibly more??

Notes: I wrote this as a vent. It started out as just a thing of "I need to write", and then Dream just kinda. Showed up. I mean, at least it made me feel better?? I dunno. I'm just really tired and going through a shit mental health time.

You're not fully awake, but you're not sleep yet, either. The time reads 22:30. Nothing feels real. You close your eyes, rub them, pray things will feel real again. They don't.

The room is unnaturally dark. Too cold. The window is open. You don't want to close it. It's too quite. Everything falls silent. It's so loud.

You close your eyes, take a breath in. There's a knocking at the door. You bite your lip. You get up, not on your own accord. Your legs bring you to the door. You look up at him. He puts a hand on your cheek, rubbing circles into it. The other wraps around your waist, pulling you near.

He doesn't feel real. You close your eyes, breath in his scent. His hand rubs circles on your lower back, other shifting to hold between your shoulders. You take a breath in. The breath doesn't feel real, either.

You glance up. You see part of his hair. Blonde as always. You push yourself into him, body pressed close. You want to merge yourself with him, become one, and then never meet your own body again. He lets you. He doesn't stop running your back. He's a convicted felon, he's a murderer, he was created in the image of the God few have seen.

He lets go of you, hand moving from pressing on you. You move back. He looks at you, gently brushing your hair out of the way. He's horrible. He's horrible and terrible and you want him - Need him - Here. You glance over the scars on his face, down his neck, the burnt mark of a smile, the burnt mark of an 'XD'. You're reminded again of how he's terrible. You're reminded of how you've been branded, too. Your hand goes to your lower neck. You feel over the scar. You hate the way the skin feels - You hate more that you don't want the mark to ever go away.

He moves past you and sits on the bed. You let yourself sink beside him. He moves an arm around you again. Part of you screams to push him away and leave. You lean into him and close your eyes. You ignore the voice yelling. You lay your head on his shoulder. He pulls you closer. You want to merge with him again. Be one. He gives your side a gentle squeeze. You let out a huff, gently pushing your elbow into his stomach. It doesn't do much. He lays his head on yours. You want to hate him. You close your eyes and let out a sigh. The room doesn't feel as silent anymore.

At some point, he'd pulled you onto his lap and fallen back against the bed. You were still awake then. You let your head burry itself in his chest. He held you close. Maybe this is how you left your body. One of your hands made it's way to run its fingers through his hair. They got caught on tangles, caught on dirt, caught on things you didn't want to think about. He let out a content sigh. You swore at yourself for sinking into him more when you did.

You let yourself begin to fall asleep in his grip. You let yourself be completely vanurable. You missed these moments. He was a murderer, an abuser, twisted and traumatized and tortured and hated. Before you fully let sleep grasp you, you leaned up and gave the side of his chin a kiss. You laid your head back down and let sleep fully engulf you. You didn't dream. Things didn't feel as quiet or dark anymore. You cursed at yourself, at the irony of a horrible, horrible man making the room feel lighter. You wanted to hate him. He wouldn't let you.

[chronicallycrow]

Unreality and Imposters

Chapter 1 - Into the Unknown

Fandom: Dream SMP

Relationship(s): Sleepy Bois Inc, implied Clingy Duo

Word Count: 816

CW: Depersonalization, Derealization, Imposter syndrome?, Possibly more

Notes: This started off as a kind of vent, one-off oneshot idea because I started to read Devil Town and have been thinking a lot about Under the Brine. About half way through I decided this had to be a multi chapter project.

This is based off of my own ideas about when I lived near a creepy ass forest - It's also based off of folklore stories, intrusive thoughts, and one of my biggest fears - Which is someone you know and are close to not actually being themself, instead being some terrifying. Thing.

I definitely am basing the woods off of the ones I lived near, but I don't think that's super important right now.

ALSO! I want to apologize for any grammar or spelling errors, as well as any formatting issues! I don't currently have a computer, so I'm using my phone, and I feel like I definitely write worse (word count and grammar wise) using one. (Also, I don't have a beta reader.)

I've never written horror like this! I hope you enjoy it!

AO3 Link

Tommy lets out a frustrated groan as he slams the door shut, feet stomping on the ground as he leaves the house. He's holding back tears, biting at his lip hard enough to draw blood. He's shaking. His face is red. He veers off the path and walked towards the forest. He was told not to go here, that it was dangerous. What was he to care at this point? He was pissed.

The sun began to set as he set foot in it. Tommy grabbed a rotted branch and hit it against a tree, the branch cracking away in his hands. He should have noticed the moment he hit the tree every bird went silent. He should have noticed the way the trees seemed to curl in on him, shroud any sign of light left outside. He didn't. He just continued down the path, hitting stumps and trees he came across with the broken branch.

Tommy stomped further into the woods, leaves crunching under his feet being the only sound. He should've noticed how they echoed. He didn't. He also should've noticed how the path he was walking on was grown over behind him, disappearing. He didn't. He was so frustrated.

He made his way to a ditch, and sat on the edge of it, staring down. There was a stream at the bottom of it. He should've realized how it wasn't making any noise. He chucked an acorn into the stream. It didn't make a sound. He didn't notice. He laid his arm over his knee and buried his head in it. He began to cry.

-

"Have you seen Tommy?" Phil asked Wilbur when he came home. He was sitting on the couch, trying to distract himself with anything he could. It was nearing midnight. He'd left at eight. Phil had assumed he was going to come home with Wilbur - Leave after their fight and find his big brother - But there was no sign. Wilbur shook his head.

"No, I haven't - Is he not here?" His voice laced with concern. Phil shook his head.

"We got into an argument and he left. I thought he'd come to you." He let out a heavy sigh, standing up. Wilbur shook his head again.

"I haven't seen him since this morning."

Phil bit at his tongue, breath baited, and grabbed his phone to dial Tommy. He didn't pick up. He texted him, then scrolled through the contacts until he found Tubbo's. He pressed the call button.

-

"Tommy?" A voice called from behind him. Tommy whipped his head around to be greeted with his brother. He should've realized it wasn't him, though. He should've realized that thing was slightly too tall, slightly too skinny, too sickly looking, how it's voice was off. He didn't.

"Wilbur?" He asked, pushing himself up from his spot on the ditch's edge. He almost slipped. He should've noticed how the leaves didn't crunch under his hand this time.

"We were worried sick about you, I'm glad I found you." The thing told him, holding a hand out for Tommy. He let out a slight laugh, making a comment about Wilbur being a 'clingy bastard' and slapped away the creatures hand. He should've realized how the fingers were too long. How they didn't have fingernails.

"Why worry about me? I'm a big man!" Tommy stated, puffing his chest out in pride. The thing let out an airy laugh. He should've realized how it hadn't sounded human.

"You've been gone for a bit." The thing stated, shrugging. It's shoulders went too high and fell too low. Tommy didn't notice.

"It's only been like half an hour," Tommy replied with a laugh. "You really are a clingy shit." The thing let that laugh again. Tommy didn't notice how inhuman it sounded. Again.

The creature began to walk. Tommy followed it. He should've realized that its steps were slightly too far apart, that it walked stiff as a board - Or that it was taking him in the wrong direction from home. He didn't. Instead, he followed the thing as it walked. They walked in silence - Complete silence. The leaves weren't crunching anymore. Tommy didn't realize.

Tommy shivered. He should've realized something was wrong then and there, turned his back and ran. He didn't. Instead, he grabbed for the thing that looked like Wilbur's hand. He should've noticed how its skin didn't feel human. He played off the shiver on being cold as they walked, humming to himself. Things weren't echoing anymore. The whole forest was completely silent. The creature holding Tommy's hand wasn't breathing. He should've realized, but instead be continued to walk forward, leaving his house behind. He didn't realize his phone buzzing with texts and calls, nor did be realize when they all stopped and he completely lost data signal on his phone. He just continued to walk with the thing that looked like Wilbur.

[chronicallycrow]

So uh.

I've been inspired to write some dsmp horror stuff.

Issue is, I can't tag things on ao3 with my phone. And my laptop might just be completely gone.

This is gonna be fun/s

[write-it-motherfuckers]

Person A: “You know, this isn’t quite what I meant when I prayed for a lover who would love me unconditionally and eternally.” 

Person B: “Then you should have been a little more specific, my dear.”

[chronicallycrow]

Fandom: DSMP

Ship(s): Revivebur/Reader

Word count: 470

Prompt: See above

CW: Swearing, mentions of death, mentions of terrorism(?), possible slight yandere-ism if you kinda squint, slight implication of being trapped (physically and mentally), slight implication of manipulation.

Notes: I wrote this in like 5 minutes after seeing this prompt, because it just immediately came to my mind. It's not great - I haven't actually written like anything in a good couple of months. (It's also super short, so sorry about that.) Also, I wrote this on my phone since I don't have a laptop right now - So I'm blaming that for anything being weird or off with wording and such. (And partially for how short this is.)

"You know," You took a step back, letting out an uncomfortable, breathy laugh. "this isn't quite what I meant when I prayed for a lover who would love me unconditionally and eternally."

You'd started that prayer before you even met him for the first time - You'd sit there, from about the age of 15, and press your hands together, asking, /praying/, for someone who would love you forever and always. And you had gotten that when you met him - A tall, lanky man who promised his heart to you forever and always. For eternity.

Yet, now this plan had backfired on you - He'd died! He had /died./ And now he was here again- And, sure, you'd met Ghostbur - But you didn't think that he would get revived. Fuck - You had backed into the wall.

Wilbur gently put a finger under your chin, hand rubbing circles onto your cheek. "Then you should have been a little more specific, my dear." He hummed, other hand pressing against the wall as to trap you. You let out an uncomfortable laugh, glancing up at him.

You had tried your best to get over him - And to be fair, you had managed a bit. And, of course you were intrigued when someone came up and told you, "Have you heard, Wilbur was revived!" their voice laced with fear. But, you hadn't expected him to come to find you, telling you he missed you and loved you still. Your mind had cleared a little in the years he was gone, and you realized your relationship was - Questionable at best. He wasn't abusive per se- But he also blew up a nation.

You bit your lip as he gave out another hum, leaning down a bit to look you in your eyes.

"I love you." He cooed, hand once pressed to the wall moving to brush your hair away from your forehead and kiss it.

"Wilbur, I-" You found your words caught in your mouth. The way your body instantly relaxed when he kisses your forehead - The way you were close, how you could smell him. That scent of fire and parchment and gunpowder and - Fuck. No, no- This wasn't going to end well - It couldn't. But in the moment, your brain flipped that switch - And everything felt okay again, just for a second. He was back.

You sucked a breath in, murmuring in a weary tone, "I love you, too." He let out a hum, before tilting your chin higher up and gently kissing you. This wasn't going to end well, but you couldn't stop yourself from wrapping your arms around his neck like you used to, letting him pull you closer - This man had killed so many people, and yet in the back of your mind you knew you, too, loved him unconditionally and eternally.

[writing-prompt-s]

While cleaning an attic, you find a ancient dust covered book. Its title reads “Cheat Codes for Universe XT-1138.” Inside are depictions of strange dance-like movements, next to which are phrases like, “infinite health.” On a whim, you decide to try one of these movements out… and it works…

[chronicallycrow]

(This is just a rambled out thought of how this would go, so if its incoherent I'm sorry - I'm getting a migraine and I'm tired lmao) The whole room goes static - Not in a sense of sight, but it feels like the room is static. You glance down at the book - Now closed, laying in the floor. No- No that couldn't have just happened- What? Well, you have to try this now! To see if it works! How, though? You're not just going to jump out the window - If it didn't work that would end horribly.

You let out a murmured, "Hm.." Before deciding the best thing you can do is try to draw blood - Not much, just a bit. You search around the attic until you find an old sewing set. It's dusty, and probably not the best thing to be testing this with - But if it didn't work this couldn't kill you, right? And if it did it wouldn't anyway.

You take one of the pins and wipe off as much dust as you can before taking it and gently pricking yourself with it. The pain is still there - It still stings when you're pricked - But the small hole heals instantly, no blood being drawn. You drop the pin - And you've gone so silent you can hear it clink against the floor. It- It worked? It worked! Well - Maybe now you can test your window plan...

The most this could do actually was break your arm if you fell wrong - Right? Yeah, definitely. That's your excuse for this. You open the old window - It makes a puff of dust. You slide onto the roof, it's hot from the sun beating down on it. You slowly slide down to the edge and stare down. You take a breath in, and then go down, feet first.

It hurts when you first hit the ground - But nothing else happens. Your legs feel sore, but not broken. You landed on your feet - That fall should've broken them? You took a step forward- Okay, it definitely hurt to walk - But not in a broken leg way.

"Hum," you murmur to yourself, walking back to the door. You wondered what you could do with this - And if you could somehow reverse it, die? You'd have to read through that book now. But now you had bigger concerns - The house key wasn't on you and you had to get back inside, the front door was locked. Dammit. You should've thought about that before jumping out the window.

[chronicallycrow]

Roses have thorns, remember?

Fandom: The Walten Files

Ship(s): N/A

Word Count: 1310

TW: Blood, gore, mentions of stabbing, implied murder, ACTUAL murder, mentions of death, death in general, knives, mentions of childrens death, gore, and possibly more? If you see a tw I missed here shoot me a comment or a message and I'll add it.

Note: I kinda wrote this a vent fic? Also because I saw a tiktok of someone saying Rosemary should have gone absolutely apeshit on Felix, and I couldn't agree more, so I wrote it, here ya go!

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[chronicallycrow]

Small Update for you guys:

Any post that needed the Tumblr section break cut and didn't have it has been fixed for both mobile and pc. All of my later posted fics will also have a normal section break.