Poetic Nicknames Novels & Stories

Wanting to move away from the depressing discussion of her sister's passing, "Do you mind if I ask you something?" "I suppose..." Aphrodite considered how to phrase her question, "I don't want to offend you again, but can you share how you got the nickname, 'DO'?" Devon chuckled and said, "I'm not offended, and the nickname is based on a very innocent circumstance..." "What is that?" she asked.

I asked, only somewhat joking as I referred to the Untouchable that tormented and raped Olive as he pleased. ‘He-who-must-not-be-named’ wasn’t one of the nicknames she’d given him, but I couldn’t resist a good Harry Potter reference. That being said, Olive was much more creative in the nickname department. Among my favorites were asshat and the dickless wonder, but the last thing I wanted to bring up was Blaze Madden’s penis. I had a light breakfast and the last thing I wanted to do was spew it all over Olive’s shiny new car. No, thank you.

When had I held my breath? "What was your nickname?", she inquired delicately. "Son", I huffed angrily. "He would never call me by my name. Only son. Leon was kiddo. Basti was Mister Pooper because - well that's self-explanatory. Sebastien was a mere toddler when he had gotten that nickname. It later turned into cheeky monkey." I shook my head. I forced the memories of my father and I away.

Ace would definitely hate it if I called him that. My lips twitched harder. "Cici," I murmured under my breath, rolling the foreign nickname over my tongue. Vadim’s grin stretched wide. "You didn’t give him a nickname?" I hummed, following them down the grand staircase. "Arm… no," I admitted honestly. "I mean, Ace already sounds like a nickname. And I don’t know how to shorten it further. Nicknames are weird things." Both men chuckled, their laughter trailing through the marble corridors, wrapping around the towering columns like an echo of some private joke.

But my darling kept joking it was his scar that proved he fought for his princess or pumpkin as he called me. And I know it might sound stupid but I never had a nickname. Sure people shortened my name but that is not the same as someone calling me by a nickname. And I really liked my nickname. Even though I was not orange and I was not round I still felt as if the nickname fits me perfectly. Like a glove.

he whispered, "A nickname? You mean some silly nicknames used by those couples around?" "Yeah, sort of. How about Fluffy love?" I raised a brow at him,"Really? I didn't know you were this kind of corny, cringey rather," "Nah. That's my wolf's suggestion, since he liked your fluffy tail. How about, sweet angel?" "You know, calling me by my normal name is enough. We don't need to blend in with the trend just because some couples here have nicknames for each other, doesn't mean we also need it,"

He was fine just a second before, and now this. “Why? Even you can do that the same." “He is an asshole. Instead of listening to me, he would start calling you Nic more often to tease me more,” I chuckled, enjoying his jealousy. To be honest, I too didn’t want anyone to call me Nic except for him. To be honest, I didn’t like this nickname at all, as it gave a feeling of a male’s name rather than a female’s name, despite the fact that he had named me this. I felt loved as I never had a nickname before, like Frederick, Amelia, Massimo, and most of the names around me.

Saber told him. “This is slow?” Nate asked. “Things are a bit different now,” Gomez said. “She needs some care, don’t you, Twinkletoes?” She grinned up at Gomez. “I like that nickname. But I like sweetheart too. And Baby girl. Not Spitfire, though.” She glared up at Saber. “That’s too bad, Spitfire.” “Never had so many nicknames. Does it mean you like me?” “That’s exactly what it means,” Saber told her.

he said, then continued eating. “And you know how it is in the Philippines—nicknames are either doubled or completely unrelated to your real name. Like our old neighbor, her name was Jonalyn. Her nickname? Tilapia-the fish. Another one was named Jovit, but they called him Betlôg (Men's balls). Where’s the justice in that?” I went on. Jasper burst out laughing. He probably related. I don’t know what my parents were thinking. Maybe they sniffed mosquito coil the day I was born.

When I was 16 years old, I traveled with my sister, Sarah Barnes, to Nectar Valley for the rural settlement program. We arrived late, and the youth dormitory was already full, so Sarah and I were housed with Nutty. Nutty's surname was Walters, and his given name was Nathan, though his formal name was chosen to match the pronunciation of his childhood nickname. In rural areas, there was a custom of giving boys deliberately crude names to ward off evil spirits and help them survive to adulthood.