Shop Forum More Submit  Join Login
About Deviant SJ FieldsFemale/United States Recent Activity
Deviant for 3 Years
Needs Core Membership
Statistics 14 Deviations 24 Comments 4,663 Pageviews
×

Newest Deviations

Literature
Game (Legolas x Reader)
Spirits seemed a bit low in what remained of the Fellowship. Merry and Pippin were not nearly as enthusiastic and cheery as they had been at the beginning of the journey. How it sorrowed you. The road had taken a toll on all of you. It was very evident indeed, but not only because of all the bruises and scratches the company had gained.
You had finally reached a village to stop and replenish. The village was small, but plentiful. There was a creek that ran just outside of the settlement, fruit trees to shade you, and friendly people. You were already beginning to feel rested, and had decided to venture through the small village. As you moved through the streets, you felt curious eyes on you. You hear a small shuffle from behind a barrel, and you peer around it. Your eyes were met with the eyes of a young girl. She seemed alarmed by your attention, but fascinated nonetheless. It became obvious to you that she had never seen an elf before. You offer the small girl a smile.
"You can come
:iconits-a-writers-life:its-a-writers-life
:iconits-a-writers-life:its-a-writers-life 10 0
Literature
Sandstorm (Soap MacTavish x Reader)
He heard you cry out and went numb. A hot chill ran up his spine. Everything froze as he searched around the heavy sandstorm around him. Soap couldn't quite see you, but he knew he was close and you were hurt. He shouted your name over the gunfire, not caring if it made him a target.
"Soap?" your voice was weak, but strong enough that he could hear you.
Soap turned his flashlight in your direction to find your body prone on the pavement. His heart dropped. The Captain prayed that he was wrong, but seeing you so helpless confirmed his dread. He quickly fell to his knees in front of you, surveying your injuries frantically. Soap cradled your head in his hand.
"I got ye, love," he told you, voice trembling. "Ye aren't going to die on me."
You gave him a pained laugh.
"We both know that's not true," you replied, reaching out to cup his face. "I'm sorry. This is all my fault..."
"No, no, it isn't," said the other soldier.
"I couldn't let him shoot you," you explained.
"Let who-?"
Soap stopp
:iconits-a-writers-life:its-a-writers-life
:iconits-a-writers-life:its-a-writers-life 12 0
Literature
They Come (Part 2)(BBC Robin Hood)(Guy x Reader)
It was easy to say that you were still shaken from the night before. As soon as you returned home from that night, you couldn't get a wink of sleep. You placed your now damaged phone on your desk, returning to work the next day. Pulling a large, leather bound book from one of the shelves, you decided that you wanted to keep yourself as distracted as possible. You opened to your bookmarked place in the census, and began to type each word down into your laptop.
"Good morning, (Y/N)," Mr. Scarlett opened the door. You jump nearly out of your chair. He chuckled sheepishly. "Whoa. Didn't mean to startle you."
You gave a lighthearted laugh at your own foolishness, trying to hide your actual genuine fear of the greeting.
"Good morning, Mr. Scarlett," you replied, still smiling.
"How late did you stay up last night?" he asked, noting your tired appearance and jumpiness.
"Well, I went home a little while after you left. Not long. Maybe an hour or so," you explained, leaving out the ghostly
:iconits-a-writers-life:its-a-writers-life
:iconits-a-writers-life:its-a-writers-life 4 3
Literature
They Come (Part 1) (BBC Robin Hood) (Guy x Reader)
You pulled your tights- or stockings, as you tried to become accustomed to saying- up your legs and under your skirt. After a moment of fumbling around, you remembered that you had left your flats by the door the night before. An act of anxiety, as you recalled. Truth was, your mind, and more importantly focus, wasn't tiptop shape when you got nervous. It was, after all, the first day on the job for you. If there was anything you learned from back home, it was that first impressions are the most lasting.
School was starting in fall. You were going to study history, social studies, psychology, and literature. In the meantime, you had to find a job that would both support you and not bore you to death. When an internship opened at Nottingham Castle under the curator, you were more than willing to apply. God willing, they actually accepted you- a penniless, American, college student.
There was a certain allure to working in the infamous Nottingham Castle. Of course, it mostly laid in that
:iconits-a-writers-life:its-a-writers-life
:iconits-a-writers-life:its-a-writers-life 5 0
Literature
Nirvana (Soap Mactavish x Reader)
It wasn’t unlike you to hide your emotions, even at a funeral. The mist that crept solemnly through the air ensued your privacy. The snowflakes fell lightly on the cherry wood casket like the sound of piano strings being hit by the gentle hammer. The soft melody the snow seemed to play was tragic. The noiseless music played in your ears over and over again.
Time didn’t move the way it was supposed to. For those still sane, time moved in a straight line. For you, time collapsed and trembled. One moment, you were setting a flower on your true love’s grave. The next moment, you were watching protectively over the tombstone. None of it made sense chronologically. Each moment of agony rolled over to the next in the matter of a short measure of a painful symphony.
“You’d think the widow would’ve cried at her husband’s funeral,” said an omnipotent, arrogant voice behind you.
You turn your head over your black clad shoulder. The woman had no know
:iconits-a-writers-life:its-a-writers-life
:iconits-a-writers-life:its-a-writers-life 10 2
Literature
Assassin's Creed Series Preview
    I've always felt a need to break traditions. Stone walls are built on traditions, but empires are built by shattering them. I suppose that's what my ambition is. To raise an empire out of the ashes of restricting boundaries. I am the Assassin who will bring forth the dawn of the Assassin Empire.
   
    The briny scent of the Atlantic fills my mind with the promise of freedom. I chase a dream through the glades on my black steed. My horse jumps over logs and stones that become obstacles upon the floor of the woods, while I duck beneath the reach of moss-covered branches. We both try to avoid the trees that pop up in our path. We pass by an unlit torch attached to a large boulder. That's when the glade broke away instantly, and opened up to a meadow on a cliff.
   
    I dismount my horse in front of a large stone arch built from three rectangular blocks. There were vines etched into the stones. I pass beneath the arch
:iconits-a-writers-life:its-a-writers-life
:iconits-a-writers-life:its-a-writers-life 0 0
Literature
Chase (Soap Mactavish x Reader)
The moon was a stranger to you, but it followed your car with persistence. It kept pace leisurely, while the Jeep bustled over the road that was riddled with divots and rocks. The driver’s seat you were perched in was firm and unpleasant, and each bump was unbearably amplified.
Despite this attention-grabbing annoyance, you didn’t care. You glanced into the cracked mirror and out of the dust tinted, back window. Behind your speeding Jeep were two trucks holding militia members from a local village in Sierra Leone.
There was a loud BOOM that was carried through the air. A bullet fired from the gun of a young militia member cracked a hole in your car. You and your passengers ducked involuntarily. Casting your eyes around your Jeep, you noted that everyone was okay.
You and your team had stopped in Sierra Leone for a mere day. You were a journalist covering the war, which had now spread to Africa. You were accompanied by your camera man, Jed Stoker, and a fell
:iconits-a-writers-life:its-a-writers-life
:iconits-a-writers-life:its-a-writers-life 18 4
Literature
A Man Amongst Shadows (Connor Kenway x Reader)
You were ending your normal shift at the Green Dragon Tavern. The darkness of night clung onto the window, trying to get a peek of the light of the unsleeping pub. The soldiers, rebels, and drunks who regularly drifted into this rotting hole of a building, were now gone. It was, after all, closing time.
However, your attention was drawn to one of the only men left in the tavern. He had no reason to still be there, because everyone else who was still inhabited the tavern were either staying in one of the rooms, one of the owners, or one of their miserable workers.
You realized, staring at him now, that the man never asked for anything. He was just sitting there. You tried to recall whether or not he had some friends with him, but it seemed he was there all alone that night. His demeanor was dark and intimidating. Someone had to tell him to leave though.
Looking over your shoulder, you saw that everyone was then gone. The only thing between you and this mountain of a man was silence and
:iconits-a-writers-life:its-a-writers-life
:iconits-a-writers-life:its-a-writers-life 25 2
Literature
Falling Slowly (Soap Mactavish x Reader)(One-Shot)
You were in a complete state of panic. Your rationality ran wild in your head, pursuing an intruder. This unwanted guest created an excited havoc throughout your defenses, tearing down all of the fortified walls. Whatever savage invader took over your mind, you couldn’t keep up with it. You couldn’t think straight for the first time in as long as you can remember.
His hand was still outstretched, as if he were expecting something from you. Your eyes met his. His blue eyes were so hopeful, but yours were so scared.
“C’mon, love,” he said. His Scottish voice was so alluring, but you forbid yourself to have the slightest interest. “It’s a date. You can hold my hand, if you want.”
Something almost made you believe that this was true, but the way you were trained told you otherwise. Your father was a military man and your mother was a politician. You were raised in a way that your emotions would never hold you back. Havin
:iconits-a-writers-life:its-a-writers-life
:iconits-a-writers-life:its-a-writers-life 22 0
Literature
Ghost Story (Chapter 2) (Bucky Barnes x Reader)
    You woke up all on your own. The usual shrill singing of your alarm would typically stir you from your sleep, but today was different. You pulled yourself onto your side, and instantly regretted the action. Not only was your head pulsing from the sudden outburst of sunlight from the window, but an relentless pain coursed through your ribs. You groaned and shielded your eyes, deciding it was easier than trying to go back to your last position of laying on your back. You hear someone chuckle from in front of you.
   
    "Where am I?" you ask, not opening your eyes.
    "You're in the hospital," you hear a masculine voice say. "And you might want to take it easy. You cracked a rib, and got one huge bump on your head."
    "Who are you?" you ask, not recognizing the voice.
    "Who am I?" asked the man, laughing. "It's me, Sam. Sam Wilson."
    "Sam?" you repeat. "Sorry, I didn't recognize your voice."
&
:iconits-a-writers-life:its-a-writers-life
:iconits-a-writers-life:its-a-writers-life 12 13
Literature
Ghost Story (Bucky Barnes x Reader) (Part 1)
    Steve Rogers woke to the sound of glass shattering. Immediately, his heart started thumping in his chest, and he kicked his way out of bed. Grabbing his shield that hung on his door, and a pistol in a holster hanging next to it, Steve rushed to the living room from where the sound came. He leaned against the hallway, listening for any sign that there was anyone else in his home. Trying not to make any obscene amount of noise, Steve cocked the pistol. He took in a sharp intake of breath, and crept out from his hiding place, gun ready to be fired.
    The redhead in Steve's living room spun and held her gun in his direction. In a state of shock, Steve flung his shield in front of his body, blocking him from any would-be shots.
    "Natasha!" he exclaimed. At his voice, Natasha Romanov lowered her gun.
    "Sorry Cap, I didn't know what to expect," Natasha explained while Steve set his shield carelessly down on a table.
    "Don't worr
:iconits-a-writers-life:its-a-writers-life
:iconits-a-writers-life:its-a-writers-life 15 9
Literature
Retrograde (Bucky Barnes x Reader)
    There was a reason Bucky Barnes liked you. To be frank, he liked you a lot. There was something about how he felt when he was around you. It wasn't a vulgar feeling, nor was it totally innocent. It was a selfish longing to hold you, kiss you, hold your hand, just to have you near him.
    Bucky thought over these emotions, like a child inspecting a bag of marbles- fascinated by each turn and each new kaleidoscope, how each emotion rolled into the next in a rich retrograde. As Bucky's mind wandered deeper, he started thinking strictly about you. He thought about your hair when you let it down, how it tumbled with unmatched grace. He thought about that glowing smile of yours, and how it pushed him to his limits. He thought of your (E/C) eyes, and how they gripped hope with a certain determination that was purely you. He thought about your touches, and how they seemed to unravel icy metal and turn it into warmth and something else... peace. Your divin
:iconits-a-writers-life:its-a-writers-life
:iconits-a-writers-life:its-a-writers-life 33 3
Literature
Harmless Fun (Bucky Barnes x Reader) (Pre-Serum)
    The blistering, New York summer forced everyone inside in buildings, beneath trees, or next to anything cold. No sane person would want to be frying themselves alive in these intense, relentless waves of heat. Most New Yorkers would be ducking from one building to the next, letting out a relieved sigh like they've just escaped Hitler himself.
   
    You wished you could be that lucky New Yorker right now. However, you and your friend Steve Rodgers were sweating like sinners in church, while your darling Bucky Barnes worked under the hood of a car that had a worse smoking problem than your uncle's. Bucky groaned, wiping sweat off of his forehead.
   
    "Buck, d'ya need any help?" asked Steve, eagerly trying to lighten Bucky's mood. Bucky shook his head, while scowling at the overheated engine.
    "Alright... suit yourself," Steve sighed. You watched Steve saunter back to the tree that you where currently sitti
:iconits-a-writers-life:its-a-writers-life
:iconits-a-writers-life:its-a-writers-life 47 2
Literature
Running Out Of Time (Bucky Barnes x Reader)
    Police sirens screeched loudly into the dull night. The glow of street lights spun behind you, as you sped fiercely down a rainy, no-name street. You came to a jolting stop in a cracked parking lot. Spilling out of the car, you hastily, albeit clumsily, broke out into a sprint.
    Bucky's form was graced by the spotlight of an overhead helicopter. The rain falling down on his handsome face shined just as bright as the light cascading down from the apartment buildings on either side of his broad shoulders. Bucky's sharp blue eyes watched the helicopter land in front of him. His right hand- his metal one- reached around a cold, grey pistol.
   
    "BUCKY!" you tried yelling. "PLEASE! YOU HAVE TO STOP!"
 
    He didn't so much as look at you. You had to stop him. If it was the last thing you ever did. He needed to stop.
    "BUCKY! YOU'RE MAKING A MISTAKE! PLEASE! PLEASE
:iconits-a-writers-life:its-a-writers-life
:iconits-a-writers-life:its-a-writers-life 12 2

Favourites

Activity


Journal

No journal entries yet.

deviantID

its-a-writers-life's Profile Picture
its-a-writers-life
SJ Fields
United States
I live for storytelling, whether that is through writing, singing, acting, or dancing; anything that creates a story. Everything that has a story has a soul, and anything with a soul has a story.
Interests

Comments


Add a Comment:
 
:iconbellxjay:
BellXJay Featured By Owner Feb 17, 2015  Student Digital Artist
Thx 4 Watch icon by BellXJay  
Reply
:iconits-a-writers-life:
its-a-writers-life Featured By Owner Feb 17, 2015
No, thank you darling!! Blush emoticon ILY!
Reply
:iconbellxjay:
BellXJay Featured By Owner Feb 17, 2015  Student Digital Artist
and I Love yew too :3
Reply