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September 24, 2019 6:29 pm  #1


My Archive of Crying Fiction

So... basically, I wanted to use this Topic to store all of the crying imagines and fiction somewhere other than my computer, while simultaneously sharing it with the internet! Hopefully this can be useful to some of you and not just a cringey topic no one wants to open. I will try to frequently upload the fictions as I find them.
 

 

September 25, 2019 4:55 am  #2


Re: My Archive of Crying Fiction

That sounds awesome! I will check back frequently to see what you have found.

 

September 25, 2019 3:25 pm  #3


Re: My Archive of Crying Fiction

This was one I wrote years ago about a story I read. Sort of a fan fiction, or what I wanted to happen. Don't you hate it when you're reading a book and you  think you've FINALLY come to the crying part but then... there's nothing? It's the worst. Anyways, this was my rewritten version of a scene in a book, but with crying!

I could feel my heart thumping in my throat as the crunches of fast footsteps gradually got louder. I closed my eyes, stomach churning with fear, and pressed my back against the tree. My fingernails dug into the coarse tree bark as my breathing quickened. The foot falls were almost here. Tears started to form in the corners of my eyes. Just as the footsteps came to a halt in front of me, I forced myself to pry my eyes open.
                Cody stood in front of me panting with his face flushed red. He eyed me up and down suspiciously.
                “What are you doing out here, Y/N?”
                My knees almost gave out underneath me from the relief. “I… Looking for you.”
                He broke eye contact with me, looking off to the side in annoyance. “Why? I told you I was just going on a quick walk.”
                “But it’s been hours.” I said, cautiously. “I was worried that something had happened to you.”
                He kicked at the dirt, looking down like a little boy. Now that my eyes had adjusted to the dark, I could see his face a little more clearly. It was then I noticed his face wasn’t red from running.
                I move closer to him and lightly touch his arm. “Were you crying?”
                I expected him to pull away and deny it. Maybe even get mad at me for even thinking such a thing. He was so emotionally closed off it wouldn’t have surprised me if he did. It really caught me off guard when I see tears fly down his cheeks.
                He holds his sleeve up to his eyes and turns away. “Fuck.”
                I watch his strong front crumble before me as he fights to hold back the tears. His emotions seem to be bubbling out of him.
                “Cody…” I start as I take a deep breath and step towards him.
                “No!” he yells, putting his arms out to block me as snot and tears run down his face. “No, I’m fine!”
                I take his hands and squeeze them. It seems my touch is making him cry more, because he starts to sob. I gently push his head to my shoulder and hold him there, letting him cry into my sweater. He wraps his arms tightly around my waist.
               

     Thread Starter
 

September 25, 2019 5:02 pm  #4


Re: My Archive of Crying Fiction

SPOILERS FOR DETROIT BECOME HUMAN

This is an accurate dramatic recreation of the scene in Detroit Become Human where Connor, the andriod, taps into another android right before it dies. The dialogue I've written is pretty much just a written version of the scene, but with a more dramatic spin. Enjoy!


 
Connor saw the words “Jericho” before the android put a bullet through their chin. Connor threw the android down in fear and backed away. He stared at it as it bled blue blood from its nose and bullet hole in the chin. For the first time, Connor was experiencing “fear”.
     “Connor!” Hank yelled from behind him.
     He grabbed Connor’s arms, and stood in front of him, holding him still like a little kid. “Connor! Are you alright? Connor?”
     “I’m okay.” Connor mumbled.
     “Are you hurt?”
     “I’m okay.” he said louder.
     Hank backed up, looked Connor over, and exhaled with relief.
     “Jesus Christ, you scared the shit out of me.” He cursed as he turned and walked away.
     Connor stared down at the android. His artificial body and artificial hands pulled the trigger into an artificial brain that caused an artificial death and now he’s bleeding artificial blood, but why did it feel so real? Why does it look like a real person? Why did it feel like a human life was being sucked out of it?
     Connor was shaking. He leaned back against the metal heater to stabilize himself. He clenched his hands into fists to stop them from shaking so badly. He could see it over and over again. He was so scared. Rattled to the core.
     “For fuck sake, I told you not to move!” Hank yelled at Connor. “Why do you never do as I say?”
     Connor looked at Hank, terror in his eyes. “I was connected to it’s memory.”
     The rooftop was silent.
     “When it fired…” Connor stared at the ground, an emotional barrier blocking his voice. “I felt it die…”
     Connor looked back up at Hank. “Like I was dying.”
     Hank tried to hide his shock when he noticed tears come to the android’s eyes.
     “I was scared…”
 

     Thread Starter
 

September 25, 2019 5:10 pm  #5


Re: My Archive of Crying Fiction

This is what I would call "friend fiction" as I had a crush on a guy named Paul and I liked to imagine him crying... This piece is really old, so please pay no attention to the weak verbs and extravagant adjectives.

...

     It was after school. The sun was still in the sky, yet the halls were dead empty. Almost as if I was walking through a ghost town. As I left the classroom, I could hear the sound of the janitor from the other side of the hall. The sound of their little stand of cleaning supplies being pushed and pulled resonated off of the walls. I walked to the stairwells and opened the doors. As soon as I entered those chambers, my mind began to wonder.
     Even though it was still early, I was already thinking about the next coffee house performance. As I walked down the empty stairway, I hummed a little tune I was debating on singing for the show. I hopped down the stairs gleefully, when I hear a noise.
     I stop.
     My initial thought was embarrassment, because It meant that whoever was in that staircase with me, definitely just heard me singing. But as I listen closer, It becomes clearer to me just what I was hearing.
     It sounds like sobs.
     Coming from down below.
     I gently tip-toe my way down the stair without making too much noise. When I get to the bottom stairs, I look down past the railing, and see a guy sitting against the staircase with his face buried in his arms. Then I realise who it is.
     Paul.
     His sobs are soft like whispers as he weeps.
     I make my way down the stairs, and he doesn’t move. He isn’t alarmed by my presence. I walk right in front of him and kneel down.
     He doesn’t lift his head, but his sobs seem more stifled than before.
     “Paul?”
     He lifts his head only enough to see his eyes, but he doesn’t look at me.
     “Y/N…” he says, his breathing stuttered and choppy. “Just leave me alone.”
     “No.” I say firmly. “I won’t.”
     “Please.” He says, dropping his head back into his arms. “I don’t want you… to see me like this.”
     “Paul,” I start as I inch closer to him. “Just tell me what’s going on.”
     He looks up at me, and I offer a gentle smile. He looks back down at his arms, thinking for a second, before sitting up and wiping his face. He then rests his arms back down on his knees, and stares at the floor.
     “I just found out… my best friend… tried to kill himself…” he says as he breaks down again.
     He tries to cover his face with his hands, but I grab hold of his wrists.
     “Is he okay?” I ask.
     He looks at me, his tear lines shimmering on his face. “What?”
     “Your friend. Is he okay?
     Paul grits his teeth as an avalanche of tears fall down his face. “Yes.”
     “Then be sure to talk to him about it. He obviously needs you, and you can help him get over this. You can help him get better just by being there for him and helping him with whatever he’s going through. Okay?”
     He starts to cry again, when he pulls me into a hug. And there we sat. He cried against my shoulder as I sat between his legs, hugging him back. We spent a long time like that. I was glad I didn’t contact my mom yet, because I never wanted this moment to end.
 

     Thread Starter
 

September 25, 2019 5:20 pm  #6


Re: My Archive of Crying Fiction

Another Friend Fiction. Ignore the annoying cliches. I certainly can't, but hey. Maybe you'll enjoy it.

...

     He stood up, grabbed the music box and threw it to the ground. An explosion of jumbled notes and wood sent sprawling across the floor. Conner sat down on the stool, shaking in anger.
“At least once a day, Y/N.” he said, his eyes glistening. “Once a day, I remember him. I remember seeing him tip over that boat. I remember waiting for him to come up. I remember…”
     He leaned forward, pressing his palms into his forehead. He took a sharp inhale, sounding a bit like a gasp for air. He looked at me, the anger replaced with pain.
     “I remember tying grass together.” he said his bottom lip quivering. “I tied grass together, so I could… throw him something to hold on to.”
     His sob shook his shoulders like a chill. He held his head low as tears ran off his nose. I knelt in front of him and brushed away his tears with my thumb. He took a shuddering breath, before speaking again.
     “I don’t remember what happened next. I never really knew what I had seen. I only ever realized when I was ten. When I had met you.” He said, looking at me.
     “I’m so sorry, Conner.” I said as my eye sight became blurry. “I didn’t know I would cause you so much pain…”
     “No, Y/N. You don’t understand. When we were talking about my dad on Remembrance Day, you were the first person who cared about what I had to say about it.” He said, smiling a bit.
     “We talked about how I was sad about it, and how I was probably going to cry on stage, so I was just going to not think about it. Then you told me that it was Remembrance Day, and that it’s the only day of the year where you’re supposed to remember the bad stuff. Y/N, I fell in love with you right then. So, I went on stage, and remembered. I remembered my father, I remembered his smile, then suddenly, I remembered that day.”
     He turned to me, a smile on his lips. “I started bawling on stage.” he laughed.
     I smiled, a tear trickling down my face. He turned back towards the floor. “But after all these years, he thinks he can just come back and give me a music box?”
     He stares at the shattered pieces of the box. A little boy with a fishing pole is still attached to the stand. He watches as it clicks back and forth. Back and forth. Back and…
     Suddenly he’s frantically trying to put the pieces back together. He’s jamming wood onto wood. Scrambling to find missing shards. But I know it’s hopeless. The box is broken beyond compare. In defeat, he holds the remains to his chest as he cries. Sobbing into the splintering wood with chipping paint. I hug his shaking shoulders from behind.

...

     Thread Starter
 

September 25, 2019 7:00 pm  #7


Re: My Archive of Crying Fiction

Attracted to the Darkness wrote:

This was one I wrote years ago about a story I read. Sort of a fan fiction, or what I wanted to happen. Don't you hate it when you're reading a book and you  think you've FINALLY come to the crying part but then... there's nothing? It's the worst. Anyways, this was my rewritten version of a scene in a book, but with crying!

I could feel my heart thumping in my throat as the crunches of fast footsteps gradually got louder. I closed my eyes, stomach churning with fear, and pressed my back against the tree. My fingernails dug into the coarse tree bark as my breathing quickened. The foot falls were almost here. Tears started to form in the corners of my eyes. Just as the footsteps came to a halt in front of me, I forced myself to pry my eyes open.
                Cody stood in front of me panting with his face flushed red. He eyed me up and down suspiciously.
                “What are you doing out here, Y/N?”
                My knees almost gave out underneath me from the relief. “I… Looking for you.”
                He broke eye contact with me, looking off to the side in annoyance. “Why? I told you I was just going on a quick walk.”
                “But it’s been hours.” I said, cautiously. “I was worried that something had happened to you.”
                He kicked at the dirt, looking down like a little boy. Now that my eyes had adjusted to the dark, I could see his face a little more clearly. It was then I noticed his face wasn’t red from running.
                I move closer to him and lightly touch his arm. “Were you crying?”
                I expected him to pull away and deny it. Maybe even get mad at me for even thinking such a thing. He was so emotionally closed off it wouldn’t have surprised me if he did. It really caught me off guard when I see tears fly down his cheeks.
                He holds his sleeve up to his eyes and turns away. “Fuck.”
                I watch his strong front crumble before me as he fights to hold back the tears. His emotions seem to be bubbling out of him.
                “Cody…” I start as I take a deep breath and step towards him.
                “No!” he yells, putting his arms out to block me as snot and tears run down his face. “No, I’m fine!”
                I take his hands and squeeze them. It seems my touch is making him cry more, because he starts to sob. I gently push his head to my shoulder and hold him there, letting him cry into my sweater. He wraps his arms tightly around my waist.
               

  This is my favorite so far. I can picture every detail. This is the kind of scenario I think about fairly often. It's nice to see it written so vividly.

 

October 4, 2019 2:57 pm  #8


Re: My Archive of Crying Fiction

Attracted to the Darkness wrote:

Another Friend Fiction. Ignore the annoying cliches. I certainly can't, but hey. Maybe you'll enjoy it.

...

     He stood up, grabbed the music box and threw it to the ground. An explosion of jumbled notes and wood sent sprawling across the floor. Conner sat down on the stool, shaking in anger.
“At least once a day, Y/N.” he said, his eyes glistening. “Once a day, I remember him. I remember seeing him tip over that boat. I remember waiting for him to come up. I remember…”
     He leaned forward, pressing his palms into his forehead. He took a sharp inhale, sounding a bit like a gasp for air. He looked at me, the anger replaced with pain.
     “I remember tying grass together.” he said his bottom lip quivering. “I tied grass together, so I could… throw him something to hold on to.”
     His sob shook his shoulders like a chill. He held his head low as tears ran off his nose. I knelt in front of him and brushed away his tears with my thumb. He took a shuddering breath, before speaking again.
     “I don’t remember what happened next. I never really knew what I had seen. I only ever realized when I was ten. When I had met you.” He said, looking at me.
     “I’m so sorry, Conner.” I said as my eye sight became blurry. “I didn’t know I would cause you so much pain…”
     “No, Y/N. You don’t understand. When we were talking about my dad on Remembrance Day, you were the first person who cared about what I had to say about it.” He said, smiling a bit.
     “We talked about how I was sad about it, and how I was probably going to cry on stage, so I was just going to not think about it. Then you told me that it was Remembrance Day, and that it’s the only day of the year where you’re supposed to remember the bad stuff. Y/N, I fell in love with you right then. So, I went on stage, and remembered. I remembered my father, I remembered his smile, then suddenly, I remembered that day.”
     He turned to me, a smile on his lips. “I started bawling on stage.” he laughed.
     I smiled, a tear trickling down my face. He turned back towards the floor. “But after all these years, he thinks he can just come back and give me a music box?”
     He stares at the shattered pieces of the box. A little boy with a fishing pole is still attached to the stand. He watches as it clicks back and forth. Back and forth. Back and…
     Suddenly he’s frantically trying to put the pieces back together. He’s jamming wood onto wood. Scrambling to find missing shards. But I know it’s hopeless. The box is broken beyond compare. In defeat, he holds the remains to his chest as he cries. Sobbing into the splintering wood with chipping paint. I hug his shaking shoulders from behind.

...

I love it when the girl kneels in front of him and wipes his tears, I would expect a reaction, but hey, its early fic, right?
I would like to read recent ones.

 

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