#brandon lee fanfic

[myveryownfanfiction]

18+ MINORS AND THOSE WITHOUT AGE IN BIO DNI

tags: @illiana-mystery, @iobsessoverfictionalmen, @onedirectionlovers2014

warnings: mensuration, swearing

A tapping at my window made me stir. Eric was crouched down on my fire escape, staring in at me. The crow on his shoulder took off as I motioned him in. He slowly opened the window and ducked in. I smiled softly at him and reached out.

"What's wrong?" he asked, tilting his head at me. His eyes scanned over me as he knelt down next to the bed. "You don't look good."

"Period." I muttered. Eric cupped my cheek and nodded. His thumb rubbed over my cheekbone. "Hit like a fucking freight train this morning."

"I can leave if you want me to." He said, leaning forward to kiss my forehead. "Come back when you're feeling better." I shook my head and reached out to grab his shirt. Eric looked down with a raised eyebrow.

"That won't be for a week." I groaned. "Please don't." He nodded and I loosened my grip on his shirt. "What did you do for Shelly?" I asked finally. Eric moved to sit next to me on the bed.

"What do you mean?" he asked, brushing hair off my face and rubbing my back.

"What did you do for her? When she had her period? Did you hold her? Draw her a bath? Buy her candy? What did you do?" Eric looked away and focused on the rain pouring down out of the window. "Eric?"

"She kicked me out basically." He finally answered. "She didn't like me being around her. Said it was too much to handle at once. I played a lot of gigs during that week." Eric turned back to me. "I still bought her candy. Art supplies. Anything she would have wanted. I left it outside the door and headed back out after." I smiled softly.

"That sounds sweet." I said, reaching over and putting my hand on his leg. He nodded, eyes downcast. "What did she say after?"

"She didn't say anything. Just kissed my cheek and practically dragged me to the bedroom." Eric laughed. "That was her way of showing me her appreciation for what I had done." He shrugged, looking back up and meeting my eyes. "I never complained." I smiled at him.

"I would think you wouldn't." I laughed. Eric shrugged, smiling at me. "Well, I'd much rather have you here to cuddle with me." I squeezed his leg. "Unless you have somewhere else to be tonight." I added, noticing the crow sitting on the fire escape. Eric shook his head.

"Tonight I'm all yours." He said, climbing over me and taking his place behind me. I hummed happily as his warm hand pressed against my abdomen. "Sleep. I'll be here when you wake." I nodded sleepily, scooting back against him before nodding off.

[fictionalmenmakemecry]

I finally watched The Crow..

All I can say is that it's a work of art.

True beauty

[blissfulcrow]

Way Home is Through You

https://archiveofourown.org/works/60094282/chapters/153862384

Link to first part: https://www.tumblr.com/blissfulcrow/765505943344693248/way-home-is-through-you-chapter-1-blissfulcrow?source=share

Hey yall! An update!! Let me know if you guys are enjoying this series. I am considering a beta reader so hit me with a DM if you're interested.

Chapter 2: Give Me A Reason To Believe

A hurried shuffling could be heard through the streets. Once white sneakers were desperately fumbling over sidewalks, hoping to escape this freakishly strange night's events. The glass of a long broken streetlamp crunched under her footfalls, eliciting a curse from her shaky lips. “Fucking shit!” she choked out. “Just my fucking luck, narrowly escaped a grave-robbing mime just to bust up my last pair of decent shoes. Fuck!”

She skidded around the corner, narrowly missing drunken patrons from the bar down the road. She didn't care; she needed to go home to sleep off this bad dream. When she woke up in the morning, it would all be okay. Finally, she arrived in front of her less-than-perfect apartment building. Steading her hand, she punched in the passcode, and as soon as the door lock clicked, she was in the building like lightning. Climbing up the five-set staircase on any regular day was an unpleasant struggle, but the adrenaline making its way through her body made her barge through her apartment door before anyone could see her. She didn't want to answer any questions from concerned neighbours; manners don't matter in dreams, right?

Hurling her bag in a haphazard direction, she couldn't be bothered to see where it landed. Her focus was on the bed. As she stripped down, all she could think was:

‘You're fine, you'll be fine. Just a bad dream.’Pulling back the covers of her bed, she threw herself into it, wrapping the blankets around her head, protecting herself from the outside world. A mantra over in her head like a stuck record, ‘You're okay, just sleep. You're okay; just sleep. You're okay, just sleep.’

Scenes flashing, A couple, tenderly embracing.

Happiness. Comfort. Love.

A soft gold engagement ring emerges from a box, soft gasps and bright laughter.

Shock. Euphoria. Love.

The man entering his home witnessing his partner being pinned and assaulted. Next thing he knows, he’s plummeting out the window.

Rage. Injustice. Love.

His partner, battered and bruised, still holding onto life. Thirty hours pass before she dies.

Anguish. Pain. Love.

He claws his way out of his supposedly final resting place. 

Hatred. Grief… Vengeance.

Jolting awake, her eyes wild with confusion, she tries to breathe. So much sorrow, so many thoughts and feelings, flood through her mind. Clawing at her chest to self-soothe, she weakly attempts to ground herself. Her heart was heavily thumping through her ears, and she barely registered the taps from the window. Scrambling out of bed, she throws on an old shirt and some shirts. Making her way over, she rips open the curtain. A black crow sits on the damp window cill, surely not the one from before? She heaved the heavy pane open to shoo the bird away, but it had other ideas, quickly ducking past her flailing hands and hopping its way into the apartment. Her eyes meet the birds, and the flashes start again.

The leather trench coat.

Crow symbols alight.Knives.Needles.Cars.

“Tell them Eric Draven sends his regards.”

 A name beating in her head like a violent drum. ‘Eric Draven’ 

She mutters that name as she pushes papers away, ignoring the bird that followed close behind her as she scrambles to find her laptop on the cluttered dining table.

Her hands tremble as she opens up her jacked computer, anxiously tapping the on button. Despite that, the laptop takes its sweet time loading up. As soon as the browser opens, she begins furiously typing the name.

The first article to pop up:

‘Recently Engaged Couple Murdered on Devils Night’

Young couple Eric Draven (member of the band ‘Hangman’s Joke’) and his fiancee Shelly Webster were found on the infamous holiday ‘Devils Night’ dead at their apartment. Eric was found with multiple gunshot and stab wounds, but the coroner reports that his official cause of death was the drop from their top-floor apartment. Shelly was taken into intensive care and 30 hours later died from her injuries. 

Her stomach dropped to the floor as she read the rest of the article. All this happened 19 years ago? 

As she skimmed through her browser, she came across a picture with this ‘Eric’. It was him! The lurker from the cemetery, with less make-up, but it was him. How? The article was almost 20 years old, but he looked no older than his late 20s! This is beyond crazy; people don't come back from the dead.

‘Maybe it's just some poser who read about the article and thought it would be a cool way to prank people. That doesn’t explain the visions, though. Maybe it is just a mental break’

A banging on her door pulled her from her downward spiral. Oh no…

Slowly, she inched towards the door, trying to get a glimpse through the peephole without making any noise. Peering through, it was him, the living dead guy. She began to back away slowly; maybe he would assume she wasn't there if she didn't answer. That was the idea before an obnoxious cawing sounded behind her, throwing away any chance of her avoiding the interaction. She opened the door, trying not to show her fear outwardly. For a moment, neither said anything, letting the suspense linger in the musty hallway air. Finally as if a gift from some higher power, he held something out to her. “You dropped this.” He stated, face unreadable. 

“Oh.” It was her license, making it entirely less creepy that he knew where she lived. She took the tiny card from him, a small smile forming. “I appreciate that I didn't have to pay for a whole new one, thank you. You really didn't need to come all the way here for this, though,” she chuckled awkwardly. “It’s not the reason I came, " he said bluntly. His eyes bore into hers, but she couldn't read him. “May I come in?”

“No offence, but I don’t actually know you and I don't have a habit of letting every person who rocks up into my humble abode.”

“The documents on your table tell me otherwise; you’ve been investigating.” Referring to the open tab with a picture of Eric. “How did yo-” She turned away from him to gaze back at her laptop to find he was already there in front of it.

“What the fuck! How did you..? You were just..?” She frantically pointed between the laptop and the hallway, trying to rationalise the fact that this apparently dead guy made it from one point to another in 0.5 seconds. 

Her reactions, to an extent, amused him; it's a lot better than being shot at or stabbed. He understood her fear but was desperate for help; she seemed someone who could help him navigate this world. 

“Your scepticism is warranted but pointless. I don’t know why I am here; all I know is I am stuck in this shithole again and have no clue how to return.” His voice raised at the end, his hopelessness slipping through. He had returned without Shelly before; what cruel world would do this to him again?

“Do you think that person in the cape had anything to do with it?” “I haven't the faintest idea. The last time I came back was because of the crow.” He shared, pointing to his feathered friend. “And she assures me this wasn’t her doing.”

“You talk to the bird?”  

“In a sense, not like you and I are now. It is like we are connected on a deep level.” He stated as he made his way around the apartment, taking in the decorations. It was an admittedly small apartment, realistically only needing to house one person. The wall was unsystematically plastered with odds and ends, photos, concert stubs, and anything that made it feel like home. The furniture was a juxtaposition of different styles. Red-stained wood chairs that looked antique were slid under a white chipped particleboard table. The state of her home reflected her innermost feelings: neglected and cluttered. 

He seemed to be trying to figure something out from the decorations; eyes furrowed in concentration as he poked and prodded at a poster. 

“I like your decor. Reminds me of mine and Shelly’s place.”

Her stance softened, and she felt pity for him. From what she read, they really seemed infatuated with each other, and in this case, that love was undying. She always had a soft spot for a tragic romance and felt compelled to try at least to help him get back home.

“Alright, man, sit down and explain it. I’ll see what help I can be.” She said, walking over to the couch to straighten it up for the present company. For the first time since he returned, Eric’s gloomy face held a small, although genuine, smile.

“Thank you.”

[rose-and-thorn-fanfics]

Okay so hear me out, eric draven x reader with like either a cute hades x Persephone au with protective eric and lots of fluff OR one where the reader is Shelly reincarnated but like only in soul and some memories not in looks. I imagine eric has some sort of soul bond so he can recognize her. Femme aligned preferred lol of course if you don’t mind, lovely. I figured both were interesting so you might like a crack at it lol thanks darling

Ok! Sorry it took me so long to get around to this :) I’m going with the second option you gave me! Hope you like it!

“The Eyes Are A Window To The Soul” (an Eric Draven x Reader Fanfic) tw: suicidal ideation

It had been a week and a half since you had last had one of those dreams, and you’d almost convinced yourself that’s all they were: dreams. They couldn’t be memories, even if that’s what they felt like. You’d never been in a relationship before. You’d never even been kissed (one of the many things that your high-school classmates constantly had teased you about until you dropped out). Now you were college aged, and still had no plans for the future. But those dreams… they felt so real. You hated to admit it but they were all you had. ‘And they aren’t even based on anything.’ You stood in front of the road, letting the rain soak you in your misery. You felt so alone on the wet and glistening streets. Nobody cared if you disappeared forever.

A crow cawed, perched on a parked car nearby. It flapped its wings, shaking drops from its feathers. You waited patiently. You just needed a car to speed down that street. Fast enough for you to step out in front of it without it being able to swerve away in time. The crow cawed again, and several cars passed. Police sirens wailed. ‘Not fast enough… but maybe—‘ you heard a screeching noise and the revving of an engine. A silver camry sped recklessly around the corner. At the last second, you jumped out in front of it, only to feel someone catch you by the collar of your coat and pull you back onto the sidewalk. You yelped, cursing loudly as you turned around to see who had prevented your death. Your voice fell short when you saw who had saved you. Even with that makeup, it was unmistakably the man from your dreams.

He blinked at you, face white as the moon and black painted lips forming a frown. “You should be more careful.” He said wearily. “You could’ve easily gotten hit head on. You would be dead if I hadn’t grabbed you in time.”

Indignant ignited inside you, remembering how badly you had wanted to end it all. “I know. I wanted to get hit.” You sighed with a mix of frustration and exhaustion.

The man’s expression darkened, and he brushed a strand of your wet hair from your eyes. His pale fingers brushed your face just slightly, and upon contact with your skin, you saw his eyes widen. He stumbled backwards, completely shocked, like he had seen a ghost. “….Shelly?” He said, breathing heavily.

Hearing that name, you couldn’t explain the sudden emotions that washed over you. The name felt so true, so right, when he addressed you with it. And yet those two syllables stirred up an ache in you you’d almost completely forgotten. You stepped closer to the man.

“You promised me you’d join me in this life again…” He said, leaning against the wall of the brick building behind him for support. “Do you… remember me?” His tone was both loving and desperate. “You look so different. But I swear…” the man’s voice trailed off.

Leaning against the wall next to him, you summoned some courage before opening up. “My name is Y/n, but I have these dreams that feel so real. I was having them every night up until a week ago. You…. were in them. I’m sorry, you must think I’m crazy…” you turned away your head in embarrassment. “But when you called me Shelly… I felt something I haven’t felt in so long.”

The man put his arm over your shoulder and you felt a sense of belonging, a sense of love, almost like a promise. “Eric?” You said. You couldn’t explain why you said that name.

He turned, holding you close and looking you directly in the eyes. “You remember, don’t you?” He smiled with relief. “That’s my name. Those weren’t dreams, Y/n. Those were memories of a past life. Our life. Together.”

“Can you call me Shelly again? I want to remember everything.” You whispered.

“Shelly, I love you.” He whispered in your ear.

A shiver ran down your spine. You felt a new sense of meaning, just from the way Eric held you. Just from that name he called you. “I love you too, Eric.”

Eric kisses your cheek, and you ran your fingers through his dark hair. More memories and flashbacks came back to you as he kissed you again and again, getting closer and closer to your lips until your lips met. Tears streamed down your cheeks, as you remembered all the plans you had made with him for the future. All the moments you’d spent together, and the painful ending to it all. A sense of peace washed over you as your tongue entwined with his. Someone cared. And it made you want to live. It made you dare not to end it all.

[belokhvostikova]

I’m by no means an editor (evidence quite literally shown below), but I am a worshipper of brown, long-haired, guitar-playing men!

Basically, I saw an opportunity and took it :)

[andygo34]

So... now I need a fanfic where Daniel arrives in time to stop Kwon, and maybe after the fight between Dojos is over he takes him in and along with Chozen helps him get rid of all the Cobra Kai toxicity in him ( I'm aware that Kwon actually kinda enjoyed being a jerk but since Kreese arrived it escalated even more as it encouraged his erratic behavior), anyway, in this fic Silver kills Kreese and then goes to prison ( this time forever, maybe), I liked Axel so I'm going to put him in a poly relationship with Sam and Miguel, Robby and Tory would also have their happy ending, and...

just look at them 😭😭😭💖

[fantastic-rambles]

Title: Nightmare

Rating: Mature

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: Gen, M/M

Fandom: Under the Green Light

Relationships: Jin Cheungwoo & Matthew Raynor, Brandon Lee/Jin Cheungwoo

Characters: Jin Cheungwoo, Matthew Raynor, Brandon Lee

Additional Tags: Nightmares, Illusions, Promises, Rejection, Insecurity, Blood, Blood and Gore, Bruises, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Panic Attacks, Worry, Chases, Begging, Apologies, Drugs, Drug Use, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Implied Sexual Content, Unhealthy Relationships

Word Count: 673

Summary: When the potato kid unexpectedly shows up at Jin's apartment, he's surprised… before things take an even worse turn.

Read it on AO3 here!

[anths-girl]

Ah...I confess, I haven't actually read any Eric Draven fics (yeah, I know, I have SINNED!!!! 😱😱😱😱), but...I absolutely, 100% agree with this!!! ☝🏻☝🏻☝🏻☝🏻

It was also one of the things that made Brandon Lee's portrayal of Eric SO AMAZING. Because it's so obvious what a soft, caring, loving man Eric was in life...then to die so violently, and come back to exact that same violence on the ones who killed him and Shelley.

But in-between the violence...he speaks softly, he moves slowly, everything about him just comes across as...GENTLE.

So again, YES, @idyllic333dreams you are one-hundred percent correct on this!!!

The only thing that i have to complain about Eric Draven smut fics is that portraying him as a dom Daddy that fucks roughs might be one of the most out of character things that a writer could do and it comes off as funny tbh

This man doesnt fuck hard, rough and nasty, he is sweet, gentle and passionate, this man makes love, HE. MAKES. LOVE. And his aftercare is heavenly because he wants his S/O to feel loved and appreciated in every way possible

He is vanilla af and we love him for that

[strawberryraviegutz]

I love both versions of Eric Draven.

Yeah that’s right I said BOTH. Both versions of the crow bring different things to the table and I understand being a bit biased due to nostalgia, but just cuz you don’t like it doesn’t give you the right to shit on everyone involved with the movie without giving it a chance or at least acknowledging that it’s at least gonna urge/encourage younger generations to go look for the og film which should be considered a good thing cuz it means more ppl are gonna discover how amazing the crow as a whole is.

I’m elder gen z and was introduced to the crow by a goth couple on YouTube(it was either before or after I heard about the remake.)It wasn’t until I heard about the remake that I finally stopped procrastinating and watched it. And I loved it. It was rlly good. As for the more recent one. I don’t necessarily hate it tho there are some things I wish they had done differently.

But maybe it’s cuz I like the 1994 one a bit better. I still enjoyed the crow 2024 tho. And I also understand the whole loyalty and respect to Brandon Lee cuz he died durimg the making of the crow.

But I don’t think Brandon Lee would appreciate you guys using him to put down another actor’s hard work if he were still alive today. He wasn’t even the only person to play Eric either. Someone else who wasn’t Bill Skarsgard played Eric in one of the other films.(I think. Feel free to correct me)Not to mention I think we’re all forgetting that the og source material isn’t the 1994 movie. The Crow was originally a comic book series.

I’m not here to tell you what you should or shouldn’t like. But I am here to tell you to maybe calm down a bit. It’s fine if the crow 2024 isn’t your cup of tea or if you like the 1994 movie better.

What isn’t ok is shitting on/slandering Bill Skarsgard and everyone else involved with the 2024 movie, getting genuinely angry that others enjoyed the 2024 movie, saying that newer fans who got into the crow franchise because of the remake aren’t allowed to like the crow franchise and accusing them of being posers(even tho goth is a music based subculture and there are loads of different types of goth styles but ok. Plus you don’t necessarily need to be goth to enjoy the crow.), and getting genuinely angry at ppl writing fanfics for 2024 Eric Draven.

Both versions of Eric are unique in their own ways and I wish people would stop being so mean about this.

[babsharrison]

I need more fanfics of Brandon Lee as Eric Draven 😭😭😭😭😭 Pleaseeee, angels of writing 😭😭😭 (I'm too lazy to do it myself 😭 ....maybe someday 🤫)

[gosiksmallspace]

Shipper Tag Game

Thank you @godotismissingx for the tag! ❤️❤️❤️

Sorry that it took so much time 😅

Okay let's go!

1. What ship were you completely obsessed with when you were a teenager, but now you don't care anymore?

There were some k-pop ships I used to ship but as time went by I just stopped. Maybe because I’m not as much into k-pop as I used to be.

I also don’t ship any of Hetalia’s characters anymore.

2. Which ship would you consider your first one?

Stella and Brandon from Winx Club or Kevin and Gewn from Ben 10: Alien Force. That was even before I was aware of what shipping was.

While I was aware, I think it was Shizaya? Durarara was one of the first animes I watched. And Heiwajima Shizuo and Orihara Izaya's love-hate relationship was so good for a 12-year-old me.

Or it could be SasuNaru…

3. Your first fanfic belonged to which couple?

Written it was Merciless. 

But read? That was so long time ago...

I remember I found some Ben 10 stories on the Internet and I read a lot of them as a kid.

But when I read and I was aware I was reading fanfics it was most likely SasuNaru or Darry. It was most likely still on Wattpad or fanfiction.net. On or those self-publishing blogs. Those were popular back then.

4. Do you remember the first couple you saw a fanart over?

Probably SasuNaru. Or another ship that was popular at the beginning of the 2010s.

5. Did you ever get into ship discourse?

I try not to. I mostly believe that fiction is fiction and when I don't like something I just don't read it.

I like to read people's points of view though.

6. Did you used to have any no-otp or have it currently?

Not really. I used to hate UkFrance from Hetalia but now I just don't care. And I never really shipped Destiel. But I'm not sure I would call them a no-otp.

7. Who were the couple in the last fanfic you read?

A new chapter of Merciless fic that I'm always waiting for was published. It's called Hidsight by duty_free. AND IT'S AWESOME, GO READ IT. It's a wonderful continuation to The Merciless that can actually fix those two morons (I have hope, it's still ongoing)

Before it, my friend @frayed-at-the-seams published her fic about Junho and Hoyeol from D.P. It's called Dogs and Cats. It's an interesting supernatural spin on the original story and it allows Junho and Hoyeol to be cute ❤️

8. Currently, do you have any OTPs?

Of course. My absolute favorite obsession is Han Jaeho x Jo Hyunsoo from The Merciless

But there is more:

Roronora Zoro x Sanji (Zosan) from One Piece

Sakata Gintoki x Hijikata Toshirou (GinHiji) from Gintama

Shizuo Heiwajima x Orihara Izaya (Shizaya) from Durarara!!

Oga Tatsumi x Furuichi Takayuki (OgaFuru) from Beelzebub

Lee Dongsik x Han Juwon from Beyond Evil

Kang Yohan x Kim Gaon (GaHan) from Devil Judge

An Junho x Han Hoyeol from D.P.

Miyuki Kazuya x Sawamura Eijun (MiyuSawa) from Ace of Diamond 

James T. Kirk x Spock from Star Trek 

Merlin x Arthur Pendragon from BBC Merlin

James Bond x Q (00Q) from James Bond movies

Harry Hart x Gary "Eggsy" Unwin from Kingsman movies

Tony Stark aka Iron Man x Steve Rogers aka Captain America from Marvel Comics (comics only.)

Peter Parker aka Spiderman and Wade Wilson aka Deadpool from the Marvel Comics

Loid Forger x Yor Forger from SPY X FAMILY

Hino Eiji x Akhn (EiAn) from Kamen Rider OOO

Shijima Go x Chase from Kamen Rider Drive

Kiryu Sento x Banjo Ryuga from Kamen Rider Build

and many many more

Also as an exception to my k-pop rule, I still ship ChanBaek from EXO.

9. Is there any couple that, to this day, you are extremely mad about not getting together?

Robin and Barney from How I Met Your Mother. I get that it was planned from the beginning for Ted to end up with Robin but did they have to make Robin and Barney so good???

Also, Merthur, like they had a whole story about them? All 5 seasons?

And Sterek. 

10. Is there any ship you used to dislike but now you think they are kind of interesting?

Zeke x Levi from Shingeki no Kyojin. I used to not be much into it but there is an amazing reincarnation comic AU on twitter (here) with them and I have to say that they have a potential.

11. Do you have any ship that, in the past, was considered normal but now you would be canceled over?

Not sure... There were some ships that I wasn't aware of age. I don't mind ships with big age differences but I like for both parties to be over 18.

So maybe as an example Levi x Eren? Eren was 15 and now looking back I'm not sure if I would ship it. 

12. What was your favorite crack ship?

Tried to think of something but my head is empty. I don't believe I don't have any crack ships!

13. Who is the couple you read more fanfics of?

Shizaya, GinHiji or ChanBaek. They have big fandoms so I could just move from one fic to another. 

Also YoonMin. I used to ship them a lot but now not really but I read a lot of fics with them.

14. What most of your ships usually have in common?

They usually banter or tease each other. Those love-hate relationships are my favorites. And more of them lately have an age difference.

15. What you absolutely hate in a ship?

Lack of chemistry? I hate too much drama but also don't like where everything is fine. And cheating.

tagging (no preassure): @daxianme @yardmargs @frayed-at-the-seams @bobafvcks @babischlong-six @stanaclown @igonecrazy @chhagiya @lovemevermore @ilikeallthepenguins @manproposes-goddisposes @backtomanyang @inashoe @darktecno @areththeimagine and everyone who wants :)

[myveryownfanfiction]

18+ MINORS AND THOSE WITHOUT AGE IN BIO DNI

tags: @illiana-mystery, @iobsessoverfictionalmen

warnings: swearing, Haunted house, Devil's Night, fire

Eric looked up at the clouds, frowning at how dark the sky had gotten. The crow circled us as we walked through the city. I kept a tight hold on his arm as the crowd got thicker.

“How much further?” I asked. Eric smiled over at me.

“Why? Afraid of a little rain?” He asked, gently bumping my shoulder. “It can’t rain all the time.”

“no.” I said. “The crowds are getting awful big. I’m just concerned something is going to happen.” Eric chuckled and wrapped his arm around my shoulder. He held me tightly against him.

“Nothing will happen. It’s going to be fine.” He assured me, kissing my temple. “You’re just scared already. We haven’t even gotten our tickets yet.”

"I'm not scared." I pouted. Eric chuckled and kissed my head again.

"Sure." He teased. "Whatever you say." We finally got to the ticket booth and Eric paid. I watched as the crow settled at the entrance to the house, cocking its head as it watched the two of us head through. "Now remember if you get scared..."

"Eric." I whined. "Shut up." He laughed before tightening his hold on me as the lights went out. I wrapped my arm around his waist as he followed the line. Eric jumped and chuckled when a man in a clown mask jumped out at him. I smirked before squeezing his waist. "You were saying about me getting scared?" I teased over the music that was playing. Eric reached down and pinched my arm as we kept moving. Someone with a chainsaw ran in front of us and I gasped, leaning into Eric some.

"You were saying?" Eric laughed. I shoved him playfully before slipping my hand into his back pocket.

"Shut up." I laughed. Eric chuckled as we kept moving through the house. We got jumpscared a few more times before we made it out, the crow waiting for us at the exit. It took off as we passed by. Eric paused for a second before turning us in a different direction.

"You were right." He breathed out, eyes searching the crowd. "Something's starting." Eric stopped, bringing me to a standstill beside him. He turned towards me, putting his hands on my shoulders and he looked at me. The crowd parted around us as Eric kissed me. Some people rolled their eyes as they passed but most gave us space. Eric hugged me tightly as he pulled away. "Someone is going to set fire to the house. Run. I will find you later. Get back to the apartment if you have to." Eric pulled away completely and I nodded.

"Guess it was stupid coming out here on Devil's Night." I breathed out as I squeezed his side. Eric nodded. "Go stop them. Be safe Eric." I pulled him in for another kiss before taking off. The screams followed me back to the apartment. I kept checking the sky for the crow but I couldn't find him. By the time I got back to the apartment, I skidded to a halt as I saw Sargent Albrecht. "Eric's not here." I said as I walked over to him. "He's back at the event. Said something about the haunted house getting burned down."

"I know." He said. "I just came from there. Overheard somebody say they were going to burn down this building." I frowned and looked up at the crowd that was gathering. "Wanted to make sure he wasn't in there." I shook my head.

"No." I frowned up at the building. "But he isn't going to be happy about it." Albrecht shook his head.

"No he won't." He agreed. I watched as someone approached the building, playing with his lighter as he went. "And here we go." He gently took my arm and led me back, trying to make sure we were out of the blast zone. The door to the building opened with a bang and I smiled as Eric stepped out.

"If you want to burn this building, you're going to have to get through me." He growled, eyeing the crowd that was still gathered. Some had bottles and others had torches. "Don't everyone move at once." Eric smirked as the first bottle was thrown.

[brookesmultifandomhell]

Ewwww! I’m writing an Eric Draven fanfic, minding my own business and all the sudden I find out an ant made its way into the cap of my water bottle in the worst way while not even looking 🤢 oh for the love of Brandon Lee!

[blissfulcrow]

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: The Crow 1994 Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Eric Draven/Reader, Eric Draven/Shelly Webster, Eric Draven/You Characters: Eric Draven, Shelly Webster, Reader, Sarah Mohr Additional Tags: Reader-Insert, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Eventual Fluff, Inspired by Music, Post-Canon, Post-MCR, Love, Falling In Love, Canon-Typical Violence Summary:

Wiping the tears from her eyes, she could see a crouched man dressed in all black, rips and tears covering his attire, squatting on the sides of the mausoleum as if he were a fierce stone protector right at home with the gargoyles. His clown-like face paint was framed by deep black hair and intense brown eyes that seemed to pull you deep into them. There was something almost ethereal about him, nearly as if he glowed in the pale moonlight engulfing them both.

Note: My fic inspired by Brandon Lee’s portrayal, posted both here and on AO3. Please feel free to leave a like and comment so I know I'm not just throwing this fic into the abyss

Chapter One: Can’t Find My Way Home.

Blinding… That is the only way to describe her rage's effect on her… Blinding… like a flashlight clumsily pointed in your direction or a train rapidly approaching, unwavering in its journey and uncaring what was in the way. She was inconsolable after they told her the news. Her closest friend suddenly and unexpectedly passed away after having no signs of deterioration whatsoever. When she remembers, she feels like she's still there in that hospital room. Her ears ring as doctors ask a flurry of questions that she can’t answer, not because she doesn't know the answers but because her mouth just refuses to form the words. The bubbling of emotions threatening to boil over is unbearable; she thought she had prepared for this… “Stupid fucking idiot!” She reprimands aloud, boots slogging through the dense, earthy surrounds of the cemetery just outside the city. She walked straight back into the emotional turmoil of losing her mother; she promised herself she wouldn't work herself up, today of all days especially. Today marked one year since her friend's death, a whole year. One year without her closest confidant, a year of benders ending with her curled up next to a toilet, calling her friend's voice mail despite knowing it was futile. She would never get the answer she sought at the end of that dial tone, no matter how many tears were shed… The dead can't come back.

Every week, she would bring flowers to her grave. No matter how much it hurt, she pushed herself; she knew her companion's biggest fear was being forgotten, and she couldn't bear the thought of her being right. Every week, she had to put herself through the same bitter cycle of grief, and she knew she couldn't keep going like this. She just didn't know how else to cope. She trudged closer to her destination, fists whitening from her stone grip on the wilted pink Chrysanthemums. It happened to every flower that made its way to the grave; no matter how hard she tried, they always ended up crushed, and in that regard, she could relate to the poor flora withering in her palms.

The headstone slowly entered her view, the night's fog limiting it momentarily. The pot of emotions she thought she had under control started to boil wildly and without warning. Tears erupted ungraciously, blinding her vision as she approached, unaware of the crow mounted atop the grey stone watching her intently.

A grating caw pulled her from her mourning. Startled by the black bird as she kneeled, she looked up at it, and its eyes were hypnotising. It cocked its head as if almost to ask, “What's wrong?” and that's when laughter burst from her mouth. “I must be going nuts if I think a bird is concerned for me!” She manically exclaimed, running her hands through her hair to soothe herself. It wasn't working, not this time. “Sometimes, seeing truly is believing.” a bleak voice beside her called, snapping her back. Dropping her bag and flowers, she scurried away, hyper-aware of the reality of being in a cemetery alone with a stranger in the late hours of the night. Wiping the tears from her eyes, she could see a crouched man dressed in all black, rips and tears covering his attire, squatting on the sides of the mausoleum as if he were a fierce stone protector right at home with the gargoyles. His clown-like face paint was framed by deep black hair and intense brown eyes that seemed to pull you deep into them. There was something almost ethereal about him, nearly as if he glowed in the pale moonlight engulfing them both. Seeing her reaction to his presence, he shot his hands up, seemingly to say, “I’m no threat to you.” It was comforting in a strange way. Despite his ghostly exterior, she felt that there was something more to him, something tragic. His eyes held sorrow and grief, just as hers did. ‘Probably just another poor grieving soul.’ She speculated, feeling foolish for her initial reaction to his presence. “What do you mean?” She quizzed, referring to his opening line. She hadn't said anything, yet he had read her mind. “The bird, you thought you were going crazy because it could understand you. If you see it, believe it,” The leather-clad man stated as if it were something everyone would know.  

“That's an odd icebreaker” She quipped, straightening herself up. “Got a name, Mr Lurker?” Stretching out her hand to formally introduce herself to the man. She's done stranger things.

He stared at her hand as if contemplating the minor gesture. After a moment, he shook his head. ' Oh,’ she thought.

“Don’t do physical contact” Fell bluntly from his blackened lips as he looked away. Her hand wavered for a moment before returning to its place beside her. “Hey, fair enough, man, the chick you just met in a graveyard probably has heaps of diseases. I don’t blame you.” She chuckled, turning her head towards a grave, any of them to not face the embarrassment of her word vomit.

Eyes flicking from graves to the man, the woman sucked in a breath as if to build the courage to ask.

“So, what brings you this neck of the woods?” He stared again, trying to read her face.

“Only two types of people come to these places at such an hour: criminals and mourners.” He laughed, a haunting laugh that almost echoed off the surrounding statutes and monuments. She was entranced in how alluringly beautiful he looked as the smile spread across his monochromatic features. The crow landing on her shoulder broke her out of her daze. “So which are you? We friend or foe?” She jested, bringing her hand up to her shoulder, stroking the feathered creature with her pointer finger. 

Her eyes moved from his face to the disturbing sight beside him: an overturned grave. She couldn’t make out the deceased's name but could do the math. Sketchy stranger plus disrupted grave equals criminal, a thought that caused anxiety to rise to the surface despite his good looks. 

She slowly rose to make a quick escape, seeing as though she had just interrupted a looter, and she didn't want to end up in that empty grave. He saw her alarm and quickly cried out as she turned to run, crow flapping away from the perch on her shoulder.

“It's my grave!” Well, that certainly is a good way to stun someone. Ever so gently, she turned to face the unknown clown-covered man, contemplating how even to address the statement he so brazenly blurted out. ‘What the fuck does that mean?!’

Before she could verbalise her confusion, he was suddenly in front of her as if by magic. His hand flew to her mouth as he pulled her towards the mausoleum, keeping her from screaming. Her arms and legs flailed wildly in vain as he pinned her to the wall inside. “Hush now; no harm will come to you.” He whispered curtly. “There is someone here; they are responsible for the grave. If I take my hand away, do you promise to be good?”

All she could do was nod, eyes wide in fear and confusion. He eyed her carefully, steadily removing his hand, testing if she would keep her word. She did.

“Thank you. If your kindness could extend a tad longer, that would be appreciated. We have a visitor, " he said, crouching at the tomb's gated entrance to get a better look at who was approaching. She joined, slightly behind him.

It was a cloaked figure, steadily encroaching on the mangled grave. A heavily bangled arm outstretched to pick up the wilted chrysanthemums, crouching as they grabbed them. Low, angry muttering could barely be heard by the shrouded pair when suddenly, the flowers set ablaze in the figure's hands. More curses left the form as they clapped their hands over the empty grave, shaking the remaining cinders from their skin with the loud clangs of their bracelets that echoed through the graveyard. Visibly frustrated, the figure turned to leave quickly as if on a mission.

She didn't realise she had been holding her breath until her body reminded her of her oh-so-important need for oxygen. Spluttering as she attempted to regain a semblance of control of her body, the man before her turned to meet her gaze as if almost to say, “You mind?”

“Sorry”, She started, “I’m not accustomed to hiding from hooded figures.” If the joke landed, his face did not show it. 

“What happened to the whole ‘Don't do physical contact thing’?”

He peeked out to ensure the coast was clear, ignoring her before straightening up and extending his arm. Rapid flaps could be heard as the forgotten crow took its place upon his arm before turning to its owner; when they locked eyes, it seemed almost as if they were communicating with each other telepathically. ‘What the fuck is happening?’ The woman thought. “Go home, it’s not safe here.” Well, that much was apparent. Hastily, she skirted around the man to begin scooping up the contents of her bag back into its home. This had been creepy enough to last her a lifetime. 

The man watched her fumble and tumble out of the cemetery, not moving until she was out of sight. He made his way back to the decrepit grave, wracking his mind: ‘Why am I here? I thought this was over with. How am I back? Who was that figure?’ His eyes slowly drifted from the carved-out words ‘Eric Draven’ to the name on the adjacent grave, ‘Shelly Webster’, his heart rapidly thumping, threatening to leave his chest.

“I tried to come home, Shelly; why can't I return to you?” He wept, kneeling beside her headstone. His head met his hands as he unleashed his sorrow and frustration. ‘It’s not fair; what cruel being keeps us apart?’

Next to his grieving form, he could hear tiny taps of scale-like feet. Pulling him from his pity, the crow had dropped something beside him. Reaching out, he picked up the object, a driver's license. Seemingly, it belonged to the woman who had mistaken him for a thug. Gazing towards his feathered companion, he muttered,

“Suppose it’s time for a formal introduction.”

Alright, folks lemme know what you all think With Love, Blissful Crow <3

[rose-and-thorn-fanfics]

Hey lovely how are you this fine evening or whatever time of day it is where you are? I was wondering if I could request a little Eric draven x reader where there’s a small age gap like reader is around her early mid twenties say 23-25 with Eric in his early EARLY thirties where he’s saved her life and is very protective always making sure she’s safe. Essentially lots of fluff and feel good with some cuddles and protective vibes from a worried Eric because he doesn’t want to lose the reader. Female preferred but not required. Thanks hun!

Hey! Sorry for the late response! I’m on it! Let’s say the reader is 24 and Eric is 31! (I’m personally a fan of safe and healthy age gap relationships getting representation, so I’m happy to fulfill your request!). This will be a two part fic. Because I’m feeling extra inspired! 🥳

“Learn To Fly” Eric Draven x femme reader (age gap) part 1:

You had hinted about her approaching 24th birthday multiple times to your family that week. It was getting pathetic how obvious you had to be with each hint. Your mom seemed distant and distracted by dealing with the landlords of their apartment building as the rent had gotten steeper that month. Even your older sister stared blankly or changed the subject every time something birthday related was hinted at.

‘It’s like they’re completely out of touch with my life, despite the fact I live in the same damn apartment…’ You thought, walking home from your job at the local pawn shop. ‘I mean, this is exactly why I don’t share my personal life with them. What’s even the point if they don’t listen?’ You thought of Eric Draven, and the way he had saved you (a complete stranger at that time) back in October when the warehouse location of your old job caught fire. At least you knew someone cared. You bit your lip, blushing and pulling your coat tighter around your shoulders. For a man of such a violent reputation he was so gentle and sweet with you. Now it was December, and you’d been sneaking out to see him under the guise of “working extra hours at a laundromat.” It was easy enough to lie to your family because honestly they didn’t really listen when you talked. Your heart sunk as you entered the main floor of your apartment building. It did hurt. You couldn’t just ignore the feeling of regret when lying specifically to Kat, your sister. The two of you had been so close growing up. Now the disconnect was palpable. If only you could make things right…

The stairs creaked under your boots as you climbed slowly to the third floor. Walking down the hall, you unlocked the first door to your right with your key, entering the apartment and tossing your purse haphazardly on the couch. “Mom? Kat? I’m home!” You stated, more out of habit than to actually get their attention.

“It’s just me, Y/n.” Kat said, emerging from the small kitchen.

“Oh.” You said. “Where’s mom?” You asked. “And why is it so damn cold in here?”

“Mom’s out at another job interview. Until she gets another job, we need to conserve money and use the heater sparingly.” Kat explained, plopping down on the couch and kicking her feet up on the cardboard moving-box full of books they were using as a coffee table.

“Hey, Kat, can we uh… talk?” You said, attempting to mention your birthday again.

“Is this about your fake laundromat job?” Kat said, acting like it was common knowledge.

“—What? You! Please tell me you haven’t told mom!” You panicked.

“Nope. Haven’t told her. Don’t plan to. I just personally want to know who you’re dating that you don’t have the decency to tell your older sis about? I sure hope he’s worth it.” Kat said smugly.

A million thoughts of excuses and lies faced through your head. But there was something about the way that Kat was looking at you, staring at you, that compelled you to speak the truth. “Ok. Well if you’re not telling mom. I guess I can tell you a… bit about him.” You started. “He’s really handsome and sweet and gentle, and his name is Eric. Remember the fire at the old warehouse I used to work at? Well… he saved me.”

“So he was working there too? Or was he a firefighter?” Kat asked.

“Um. Not really either.” You answered. Despite that the apartment was freezing, you felt a drop of sweat sliding down your temple. You were regretting the whole ‘honesty’ thing.

“Mhm. And how old is this Eric?” Kat pressed. Her gaze was level and unwavering in meeting your’s.”

“Thirty-one.” You said quietly.

“Thirty-ONE?” Kat arched an eyebrow judgmentally. “That’s an EIGHT YEAR age difference.”

“It’ll be SEVEN years age difference tomorrow.” You said indignantly. “I don’t see why it bothers you so much. Like, honestly Kat, as long as he treats me with respect, does it really matter?“

“What if he’s taking advantage of you?” Kat replied, pursing her lips and crossing her arms.

“I’m a grown woman. I can make judgement calls for myself.” You said, trying to regain a sense of emotional balance. ‘Like you fucking care.’ You thought bitterly. “If you really are so protective of me, then why is this topic only coming up now? I’ve been dating Eric for months.”

Kat was silent for a few minutes, then finally spoke. “You’re right. I should’ve told mom the second I found out you were lying about that laundromat job. But I thought we were close. I wanted to wait to see if you’d open up to me about him on your own.”

You blinked, all your planned defensive retorts fading away, replaced by immense hurt. “Well I guess we both were wrong about eachother.” You said, grabbing your purse in a daze and shuffling into your bedroom and shutting the door. You locked it behind you, and burst into tears. ‘It’s not my fault you made me feel invisible.’ You thought, mascara dripping down your cheeks. ‘If you hadn’t treated me like a ghost, then I would’ve never kept anything from you, Kat.’

The clock ticked steadily. Hours passed, and you had changed into your nightgown. You heard your mom come home around 11:30pm, followed by the very loud voice of Kat telling your mom everything.

Your mom proceeded to bang on your door. “Y/n?!” She shouted. “Open up.” You stayed silent, curled up on your bed with no intention of letting her in. The banging persisted for a few more minutes, followed by cursing and then eventually silence.

The clock struck midnight. Rain poured outside. You’d never felt so alone. “Happy birthday to me…” your voice shook as you sang softly. “Happy birthday to me…”

TAP TAP TAP!

You bolted upright, eyes scanning the room in alarm. What was that noise? Dragging yourself out of bed, you paced around the room, until you heard the noise again.

TAP TAP!

You glanced at the window to your left, and covered your mouth to suppress a yelp. A big black crow sat perched on your window. Behind it, in the rain crouched Eric Draven, soaked to the bone on the fire-escape. Your surprise quickly turned to excitement. The crow pecked at the window again with its beak, and Eric mouthed out “Happy Birthday”, followed by a flash of his irresistible smile.

Quickly, you unlatched the window, pushing it up with all your strength so he could easily climb inside. He carefully entered, closing the window behind you pulling you into a hug.

“Eric!” You said, a bit too loudly. He held up a finger to his lips, then tilted your chin up with his hand and kissing you on the lips with a gentle passion.

TO BE CONTINUED! If you like this, lmk by messaging me or sending an anonymous ask saying you enjoyed it! Reblogs are always encouraged! 💗

-Velvet Rose

[purposechef]

Just dropping by to say that I love Love LOVE your illustrations!!! Obsessed with slice of life comics so to see it in combination with Sydcarmy/The Bear, I'm over the fucking moon! Also, the fact you wrote the oyster knife series, I'm gagged. You're so talented 😭! Follow up to another person's ask, you mention that your fav characters deal with a DEEP chasm of loneliness. Could we maybe get some recs for books and movies (or even just couples/fandoms) that feature this arc? It's a genre I really enjoy but it's hard to find. Thanks!

WOW, thank you for letting me know. It means so much to hear that people are enjoying my art and fanfic -- they're both truly a labor of love.

As for my ✨Loneliness Recs✨ I can mostly recommend books since that's what I consume the most. Not all of them are necessarily romantic, but most of the stories I like involve a) nothing much happening and b) a woman making bad decisions. If there's kissing in it, even better, but I save that for fanart/fic.

Writers & Lovers by Lily King Hello Beautiful by Ann Napolitano Seven Days In June by Tia Williams Assembly by Natasha Brown Fiona and Jane by Jean Chen Ho Happy Hour by Marlowe Granados Free Food for Millionaires by Min Jin Lee Real Life by Brandon Taylor

Those are just some recent reads but other writers who I love who write loneliness well: Donna Tartt, Toni Morrison, Sally Rooney, Zora Neale Hurston, Zadie Smith, Halle Butler, Victor Hugo (Marius Pontmercy is my #1 Lonely King).