#shorty writes
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mdni - possessive alpha!kakashi. inspired by this ask from caly @qichun, this ask from aly @rookie98writes, and this ask from cher @honeylavendr <3
“i can still smell him on you,” kakashi growls.
you feel the thunderous anger rolling off his body in waves, lightening threatening to crack. he has your back pressed into the mattress, knees flush to your chest, dripping cunt on display and begging for him to fill you.
but kakashi’s heavy cock is too far away to kiss your messy folds; you whimper, whine, and writhe in need, but his firm hold is rigid—sure to leave plum blossoms on the back of your thighs. kakashi grazes his fangs up your jaw to bite and nibble at your earlobe, a teasing taste of what’s to come that has you mewling.
“k-kashi,” you pant breathlessly, an undisguised plea evident in your desperate tone. “he j-just asked for a hug.”
kakashi pauses his ministrations on your ear, silvery stubble scraping your flesh as he moves down to nuzzle the dewy skin of your neck.
“i don’t blame you, pup,” kakashi placates, mouthing a kiss on the column of your throat before raising his head, his narrowed gaze a storm. “but genma fucking knows better than to touch his hokage’s mate.”
without warning, he plunges his cock into your wet heat—you barely bite back a scream. his pace knocks the wind from your lungs, and your head lolls back as he pounds into your cunt.
“gonna fuckin’ knot you and mark you up, sweetness,” kakashi grits out, relentless pace somehow quickening. “everyone’s gonna know who you belong to.”
at that, he sinks this teeth into the healed mark on the juncture of your neck and shoulder. agony sears through your body and hot tears carve streams down your cheeks as he pierces your flesh. but the pain dulls as your mate’s soft lips worship the angry wound, his tongue spelling i love yous in apology.
the next day, per your hokage’s orders, you wear a low cut top around the village. genma can’t look you in the eyes.
#this is super tiny shorty short but i couldn’t help myself!!!!#i wrote it during my lunch break#i just need him to knot me right fuckin’ now#kakashi smut#naruto smut#kakashi hatake#kakashi x reader#naruto x reader#kakashi hatake smut#kakashi x you#hatake kakashi#tw a/b/o#tw omegaverse#༄ kae writes
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You might be
Forever out of reach
Just a dream I visit
On the bad days
You might be
Made up memories
Nothing like reality
A hypothetical place
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Link raises his sword, glaring at Cia.
“There’s nothing you have to say that I want to hear.”
“On the contrary, I think you’ll be quite interested. It has to do with your parentage... your real parentage,” Cia says as she leans on her staff, and Link’s eyes narrow, even as his heart jumps. It’s true he’s interested in where he came from, but learning it from Cia of all people... why would she offer him that? She must have an agenda of some kind.
“...What do you know about my parents?” he asks in a low voice, keeping his sword raised.
Cia laughs.
“A lot of things,” she smiles, so coyly it makes Link’s stomach roll. “In fact... I have it on good authority that the dragon knight Volga is your father, Link.”
Her words are like a slap to the face.
Of all the things he’d expected to come out of the sorceress’s mouth, that had not been it.
Shock roots Link in place, air in his lungs suddenly nonexistent. He can’t catch his breath, Cia’s words ringing through his head no matter how he tries to get them to stop, and Link can’t breathe.
It couldn’t be true. It was completely ridiculous, how could it even be possible?
Volga... my father?
“You’re lying,” he says in a voice not nearly as sharp as he’d like, and Cia laughs again, the sound like the tinkling of bells.
“Oh dearest, I’m not lying. Surely you must have noticed how hard it is for you to get burned? How you get your energy from the heat rather than have it sapped away?” she says mildly. “Your first encounter with your father didn’t even leave you singed.”
“How do you know that,” Link growls, and Cia drew closer to him, making the hairs on his neck rise.
“I’ve been watching you, Link. I saw how good Death Mountain was for you, I’ve never seen you that energetic!” she smiles, and meets his eyes. “You know what I speak of is the truth. You are the dragon knight Volga’s son.”
Link takes a step back, mind still whirling.
It was a trap, it must be a trap, made to disarm him, distract him, take him off guard so... so she...
His stomach lurches and he almost thinks he’s going to be sick, refusing to believe the sorceress’s words but knowing somehow, deep in his heart, that what she spoke of was the truth.
Volga was his father.
#*hands you a short fic*#couldn’t resist writing this bit#just a little shortie#hyrule warriors#loz hw#hdw au#loz fic#well snippet anyway#writing from the floor
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Codfather was short for a fishman (much shorter than his sister and shorter than elf scott)
The sheriff and ken are both toy sized
Good guy is also short, even when given an enlarging potion
Jimmy made himself shorter than tango in his own thumbnail
He says he's big and strong with all the conviction of a little kid you could punt like a football
He is constantly crouching and making himself look small
I think at this point Jimmy is just canonically a little guy
#i love drawing jimmy as a long boi#but never has there ever been so much speicific lore around someones height#and it all points to him being a little shorty#hes up there with bdubs in terms of short jokes he badly denies#anyways all this to say that short king jimmy is very valid and i support anyone who draws or writes him as such wholeheartedly#this was supposed to go on my main blog but i guess its stuck here now...
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Resist!
“Stay awake! Don’t listen!” I screamed to myself. My vision falling in and out of focus. It’s getting harder not to give in and sink. I can feel exhaustion creeping closer to setting in. I need to focus. Focus on not listening.
Karie has been at this for hours? oh, god, days? I don’t know anymore. Her soft, breathy, sweet voice whispers in my ear, “Wouldn't it be so nice to give in? I know you’re tired. You know you're tired. So tired I bet your eyelids are impossibly heavy. I weakly thrash at the bonds holding me to the chair.
Karie lets out a giggle and moves from behind me. She swings a leg over my pathetic escape attempts and sits on my lap. I have to look up to meet her eyes. I desperately want to look away. It feels impossible to look anywhere but into her eyes. The more I look up, the heavier my eyes feel. I can feel it happening. Everything is getting blurry and darker. My eyelids are falling without resistance. Just before they close entirely I see Karie raise her hand, her thumb and middle finger joined…
SNAP sleep!
Karie beams with pride as Andi slumps down in her bonds, her head dropping forward.
“Such a good girl. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you forget all those silly ideas about breaking up with me. When I'm through, you are going to be the best, most obedient little slave ever.”
@ellaenchanting
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VH - Divide And Conquer
(Tw: attempted torture)
“I can't believe we finally have caught the legendary Vampire Hero”, said Villain.
The two Heroes glanced at each other and shrugged. The taller one frowned.
“Legendary ?” he repeated.
Villain looked at him with interest.
“Oh yes,” he said. “Many have fallen before your might, Vampire Hero. At least two or three of my opponents are behind the bars because of you.”
“Two or three and you call that legendary ? You're easy to impress.”
The other Hero was nervously following the exchange. Compared to his companion, he seemed much younger and frailer. His eyes were shinier and shinier with tears that did not quite fall. When at least it looked like he couldn't take it anymore, he stepped between the two, saying:
“Stop ! It's my fault ! It's all my fault if we got caught. Hurt me, not him!”
Villain gave the young Hero an amused look:
“Why is that little thing with you, Vampire Hero ?”
His interlocutor shrugged:
“You know. He's new. I'm supposed to show him the ropes or something. You have to teach them some way or some other. ”
“Is that so.”
Villain lift the smaller Hero's chin with a finger:
“My dear little one, how can I hurt him ? Many have tried and many have failed. I'll just make him have a nice little sunbath so he's neutralized. But since you've asked so nicely, I will take care of you.”
“Surely there must be another way ! I'm sure you can do better. I-I'm sure that deep inside, you're a little pure of heart.”
“ You heard your protector, you need to learn.”
He grabbed Hero by the arm, who turned his head toward the man who accompanied him. The latter just shrugged.
“Do you think he cares ?” simpered Villain to his ear. “Oh, he doesn't. He might be on your side, but Vampire Hero is evil. You're better off with me.”
Hero whimpered but didn't resist as he was dragged into the stairs.
“There are seventeen steps. Do you hear the sound they make ? There's an echo, so the prisoners down there can hear me coming. It’s all in the anticipation.”
In a sweet voice, he kept describing their surroundings while they were both descending into his torture room. During all the way, the small one didn’t dare fight back. He soon found himself tied up to a chair, helplessly squirming, his eyes giving a pleading look more than ever.
“So, young Hero,” purred Villain, “as it is your first time, I will make you a favor.”
“R-Really ?”
“Yes. Do you see all these instruments in the shelf in front of you ?”
Hero looked at the whips, the canes and the nails, and shuddered so violently it almost looked fake.
“I'm going to let you choose one among them. If not, I will choose, and you won't like it very much if I do.”
“You don't have to do this ! I-You just will make Vampire Hero angry and you don't want to !”
“You think he will rescue you?”
“I know he will.”
“How touching. But for now you're mine. So make your choice, before I get impatient.”
Hero pondered for a few seconds, then whispered:
“Um – the taser ? Yes – the taser, please.”
“If you ask so nicely.”
Villain delicately took the black rectangular shape in his hand and switched it on.
“Why, if I might ask ? Do you think it will hurt less than the others ? Let me prove you wrong.”
The half-hour that happened then looked much more pleasant for Villain than for Hero. And yet, as time passed, Villain felt somewhat uneasy. That had nothing to do with torturing a man, of course. He liked the thrashing, he liked the begging, he liked the naive faith of the innocent who was certain that he could be saved. Maybe that had something to do with the other Hero. While Villain was amusing himself, Vampire Hero was out of his sight. He might have been careless. He glanced at his watch, but Hero making a rather unconvincing whimper forced him to turn his head.
Perhaps that was the problem. Villain was used to the sounds of pain – the gasps, the moans, the howls, the cries and the pleas. He loved all of them without distinction, and of course he knew that they were a little different with each person. It was a familiar melody that Hero was singing, but thinking about it, it was slightly out of tune, and it got progressively worse. It was getting on his nerves. These rookies these days – they didn't even now how to scream right.
“Let's have a break,” he said.
“Oh well, I guess I’ve held that long.”
Villain raised an eyebrow, amused:
“Getting defiant, are we ? Careful, you sound like you’re disappointed.”
He stared into his prisoner’s eyes, hoping to get a look of terror, but all he got was a frown. Hero...genuinely looked displeased.
“Sorta”, he said. “In my time I didn’t have this kind of toys to play with. I guess having a little blue spark in your hand looks fun, but that doesn’t look like it does that much damage.”
“In your time ? What are you talking ab- wait.”
Hero tilted his head. For a moment he sounded impassible, but he broke soon enough. A loud, loud laugh resonated in the room, while the prisoner was squirming in his chair for a very different reason than before. His way of moving betrayed no pain at all.
“Are you shitting me,” said Villain, whose voice was now icy.
Hero grinned:
“You tell me, pal. I can’t believe you swallowed my “pure of heart” bullshit. I was laying it on so thick.”
Villain glared at him.
“Not that you were especially subtle either”, Hero added. “Oooh, the anticipation !” Do that again?”
Villain stood up and went to the door as fast as self-respect allowed. There was no one left under the sunlight. The guards were on the ground, unconscious.
“How -”
He turned back. Hero was now standing up, neglectfully throwing away the remnants of the straps that held him a moment before. He dramatically exclaimed, a hand on his heart:
“Oh no, he got away ! My, my. Poor little me. Tell you what, though. If Vampire Hero were so legendary, you should have bothered to know what he looks like. I didn’t mean to pass for someone else, but you’ve so graciously given me the opportunity.”
“It can’t be ! How could the – the other have escaped then ?”
“I hate to break it to you, but they are several heroes with super strength.”
Villain blushed and stayed quiet, his lips pursed. Hero picked up the taser, looked at it with curiosity, and switched it on. With a smile – a very worrying smile - he got closer.
“Hey, I warned you. I told you that Vampire Hero was going to rescue me.”
*
Vampire Hero is a recurring character. His job is to troll current villains. Check the Vampire Hero Masterlist or Tag for more snippets with him.
Or back to Hero x Villain Masterlist.
#hero x villain#villain and hero#hero villain community#writeblr#writers on tumblr#original fiction#my writing#writing snippet#writing drabble#writing dialogue#creative writing#vampire#vampire hero#hero and villain#heroes and villains#a little whumpy I guess#sorta I mean Villain tried hard#I wondered what it’d be like to classically whump a 100% pure innocent cinnamon roll whumpee#Vampire Hero just invited himself because nope#he chose the taser because most tools would have blown his cover immediately#no Zdiiiiiiiingbonnng was heard that day#truth is out: VH is a short#well I don’t wanna say “king” in his case but#”evil ex-empress’s husband” would be accurate#try to fit that on a business card#anyway. Shortie.
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❗ PLEASE NO REBLOGGING TO NON-KINK BLOGS ❗
I'm honoured to have collaborated with the incredible @onetrickponi to celebrate a certain gravity-manipulating shorty's birthday! This has been in the works for a while now, and we're both really excited to finally share this with everyone!
Without further ado, we'd like to present Vigil.
— ♠ —
“I’ve always wanted to die in a church.”
Beside him, Chuuya snorts. “I thought you wanted to die in the Ooka.”
Dazai wrinkles his nose. “Not since it became a tourist trap,” he replies. “That wouldn’t be a peaceful death at all.”
“The amount of thought you’ve put into this disturbs me,” says Chuuya, his own nose creasing. His, however, is due to a low seated, buzzing itch along the bridge of his sinuses that has been lingering since breakfast.
Chuuya won’t give it the satisfaction of culminating into a sneeze, however; instead choosing to quash the soft tingle into oblivion with the sheer force of his willpower alone. Anything else would be unacceptable.
(—as well as fucking candy to the idiot next to him, if Dazai ever gets wind of…whatever this is.)
Chuuya swallows against a spark of itch that ignites in his nose and grits his teeth. When he thinks he can speak steadily he points to the pews with a gloved hand. “Find the flash drive,” he orders. “We’ve got a window of thirty minutes at—the fuck are you looking at, shithead?”
Dazai cocks his head to the side, blinks, and answers with, “Just admiring your striking resemblance to a cherub in this light.” It’s smooth and practiced, like most of Dazai’s bullshittery.
“Why, you–” Chuuya cuts himself off and exhales slowly through his nose. He tries not to wince at the slight whistling sound it makes. With a sharp sniff he stalks off to the sanctuary and begins sifting through the drawers there. Dazai scurries off to the apse with an excited noise, muttering something about how angelic his corpse would look strung up along the mosaics.
Chuuya’s nose gives a foreboding quiver.
It isn’t like Dazai hasn’t ever heard him sneeze, or vice versa. They’ve been working together too long for that. They’ve seen each other express every bodily function possible to man (in addition to the ones that aren’t).
And Chuuya might have even been okay with his current predicament, had it not been for a quip Dazai made last week about Chuuya being a “weakling.” It had stung because Dazai, whose lack of self care is, frankly, appalling, can operate seemingly unbothered by even the most serious neglects of basic needs. Chuuya’s seen him run at peak wit on days of sleeping ninety minutes a night, seen his hair and skin glow on a diet of crab cakes and sake…while on the other hand Chuuya’s the one with the—
Don’t say it. As if ignoring the problem will make it go away. It hasn’t worked with Dazai, so Chuuya is a fool to think it will work with his increasingly sensitive airways.
Chuuya rifles through some bibles, sparing a glance or two at Dazai before deeming it okay to swallow a couple of sneezes and throat clears into his sleeve. He’s perfected the silent stifle over time, which is a feat in and of itself since Chuuya tends to sneeze harshly, loudly, and in multiples. Perhaps the intensity is Corruption at work, but regardless, Chuuya enjoys scaring the living daylights out of people. Usually.
The flash drive is proving to be elusive. The Port needs it, badly, if they have any chance of winning over the west side gangs of the Pier. Chuuya jams a gloved knuckle against the side of his nose as he hitches, squints, and glares at the church pews like they personally offend him.
“Oi, Chuuya,” Dazai whisper-calls from somewhere behind a cupboard. “I think someone’s coming. You find it?”
“No,” Chuuya snaps. The dust of old, flaky books is making his already irritated nose twitch. He shakes his head and the tickle abates. Cocking his head he realizes that Dazai is right; the sound of slow footfalls is getting closer to the vestibule. “Shit.”
Dazai scurries lightly over to where Chuuya is glowering at nothing in particular, and takes him by the arm. “There’s a little den area over there,” he nods to a veiled corner, “where we can stay hidden until whoever it is leaves,” he says.
“Or we can just come back in the morning,” replies Chuuya, snatching his arm away.
“Mori-sama will be disappoinnnteddd,” Dazai sing-songs. Dammit. He knows how to hit Chuuya where it hurts and they both know it.
Chuuya sighs. “Fine.” He stalks over to the den and crouches in the darkness with Dazai just as the cathedral doors swing open. The gibbous moon twinkles through the stained glass windows enough for the two of them to make out one of the western gang’s right hands.
Dazai crouches low and squints through the shadows. “Maybe he’ll show us where the drive is,” he whispers.
“Shut up, slug.”
Dazai holds up his bandaged hands in a familiar, placating gesture. They watch the guy glide down the stone nave, rummage around some boxes along the altar’s steps, sift through a stack of papers, and make himself comfortable on a nearby cushion.
Well, there goes Chuuya’s hopes of a night in. And now with Dazai sitting so close, he’s bound to find out Chuuya isn’t in as good of shape as he claims. Chuuya’s not going to waste all of his energy hiding it, but he’s also not ready to be discovered because he couldn’t keep his damn nose under control.
He’d never hear the end of it from Dazai.
So when he feels a trickle of damp at the edges of his nostrils he takes a slow breath in and times a much-needed sniffle with their visitor’s dropping of a folder. Dazai shoots him a curious, but unsurprised glance, which Chuuya pointedly ignores.
The sneeze teasing the swollen membranes of his sinuses, however, is much harder to ignore. Chuuya knows he can stifle it, but he also knows that doing so won’t exactly solve the problem. The irritation needs somewhere to go, or it’ll just build fruitlessly until he lets them out proper.
He breathes carefully, making sure to hitch silently as he bunches up a handful of fabric from his jacket. Chuuya ducks his head in preparation for the sneeze (or sneezes, if this is indeed a…cold).
Dazai raises an eyebrow as he watches Chuuya curl into himself and shiver with two inaudible stifles. When Chuuya uncurls Dazai can see the bleary, hazy look of someone who still has desperately to sneeze but is trying very hard not to.
“Can you stop, Chibi?” whispers Dazai. Chuuya shoots him a look that is equal parts furious and embarrassed. It’s adorable. But…
“Frankly, I’d rather not get caught because you couldn’t tame your little nose there,” Dazai continues. “Are you suuure you’re good?”
Chuuya gives a curt nod. Which should be reassuring, but Dazai’s smile falters because this is actually very bad. He recognizes the lack of quip, even while hiding like this, means that Chuuya does not trust himself enough to speak. He’s seen it before.
Dazai flicks an errant strand of hair out of his eyes and sighs. “Maybe we really will die in a church, if you keep this up.”
Chuuya’s returning grin is feral. “Y-you wish.” No way in hell will he allow Dazai the satisfaction. The carpets blanketing the enclosed den mean that they can whisper without much of an echo. It’s a small relief, since Chuuya can feel the congestion crawling and pattering away in a far back place of his nose, dormant but threatening.
He focuses on how intently Dazai is eyeing him, knowing well what Dazai isn’t saying. Engaging would be easy, but it would be messy and they’re supposed to be currying favor with the west side gangs, not killing them (or in Dazai’s case, very emphatically bonking them on the head).
Chuuya’s right eye waters with the sharpness of the tickle, as the itchiness swells and becomes decidedly less dormant. He bites his lip. If this keeps up his nose is going to turn into fucking Krakatoa.
Dazai watches Chuuya massage his flaring nostrils through the fabric of his gloves and grins with as many teeth as he can muster. Chuuya’s losing battle with his nose is even more hilarious than the fact that he’s currently sitting on a pile of Communion pamphlets.
It won’t be long now, what with the way Chuuya has gone stiff and rigid. Dazai counts backwards from five in his head. He gets to two before Chuuya’s lip trembles as the itch erupts and overwhelms him.
“Gnt!” Chuuya’s able to pinch that one into submission, though it makes his head throb and the pulsating trickle along his nose intensify with unsatisfied need. “Gnt! Nt! H’Gnt!”
He starts to lower his hand, before—“Gnt!” Jesus fuck, can’t he be done?
The answer is no, apparently, because Chuuya feels his eyes begin to flutter shut and his chest start to jump with silent, building hitches.
Before he can sneeze again, however, he feels a tap on his shoulder. It successfully distracts him from the budding sneeze as Chuuya whips his head around to stare at Dazai’s familiar, shit-eating grin.
Dazai uses the finger he’d tapped Chuuya with to beckon. “C’mere.”
Chuuya sniffs carefully and squints. “Why?”
Rolling his eyes, Dazai grabs him (gently, Chuuya notices, which okay, is a little odd) and smashes his face into his long overcoat (a little less gently).
“Mnflgl?” Chuuya questions.
“Sneeze, Chuuya,” Dazai orders. Chuuya tries to shake his head because one, Dazai’s forgetting how harsh his sneezes are—sure to give them away, and two, Chuuya might hate the guy but he’s not going to sneeze on him.
Dazai seems to read his mind. “The fabric will muffle the sound,” he replies. “And you’ll pay for my dry cleaning.” Chuuya can hear his smirk. Asshole.
But he also wants very badly to sneeze. No; at this point he’s desperate to sneeze. His nose feels like one of his gravity bombs, pulsing, thrumming, and the itch is all consuming. It would feel so good to just let a few out. He really shouldn’t.
“I know you need to,” whispers Dazai.
So, against all logic, Chuuya does.
“Hep-MPPH! MPPHT! H’MPPH!” Somehow, the fabric dampens the sound better than Chuuya thought it would. So he decides he can sneeze a little more.
“Hh…hh…MPPHT! PHT! MPPHT! Hp!…H-Hep-MPPHH!”
He’s beginning to feel dizzy. It’s worth it, though, as the stuffy, spider-crawling prickle along his nose subsides for the time being. God, he’s never had to sneeze so badly in his life. Makes sense it’s now, when he needs to be quiet.
And Dazai—the utter prick—is patting his head, like Chuuya’s some sort of mutt. “You’re a mess, you know that?” he’s saying, fondly, as Chuuya shakes with sneeze after sneeze. It’s a wonder the gang’s right hand hasn’t discovered them yet.
Slowly, Chuuya comes up for air. He thanks some leviathan god that it’s dark, so he doesn’t have to look at what he’s done to Dazai’s coat. He’s not even going to look at Dazai, because this is probably one of the most humiliating things to happen to him in…well, not as long as Chuuya’d like to admit. This is Dazai, after all.
“Bless you,” Dazai says quietly. Chuuya’s head snaps to him because Dazai sounds wrong. Odd. Genuine. Ah, that’s why it took so long to place. Dazai rarely does sincere, and the few times he expresses genuine emotions tend to signify nothing good at all.
“Thank you,” Chuuya mutters between a clenched jaw because he may have made a mess of himself but he still has manners, goddammit. He blinks the remaining wetness from his eyes as he peers at Dazai for a suspended moment.
“Oh, and if you’re curious, the guy left five minutes ago.”
And the moment is over.
Chuuya jumps up. “You utter assho-ho–” He’s cut off by the familiar needling sensation at the back of his nose. Oh no you don’t. Jamming a fist under his septum hard enough to bruise, he points a finger at Dazai.
“I despise you,” he hisses. “All thihh…th…hih…”
Dazai holds a hand to his ear. “What was that?”
Chuuya shakes his head with a tickly sniff in hopes that his nose will make up its mind and move from where it’s currently settled—in the burning, stinging place between sneeze and not sneeze that’s driving him even more up the wall than Dazai is.
Dazai cocks his head at just the right angle that a piece of hair falls into his eyes. “That sneeze looks troublesome,” he observes. “Is it stuck? Like Chuuya’s growth spurt?”
Chuuya growls and kicks a nearby chair leg for good measure, now that they don’t have to concern themselves with being quiet. The sound is hollow and echoes across the large cathedral chamber.
There’s a wrinkled, damp spot on one side of Dazai’s overcoat that Chuuya pointedly avoids looking at. The crazy bastard had let him do that, all for, what? Funsies? To torture him? Chuuya will unpack that for later. It never bodes well to try to make sense of Dazai’s brain. Besides, the much-needed sneeze is still eluding him. If he could just–just…
“Hih…Hept! Hh…Fuck! Shit!”
Dazai sighs. “Okay, I can’t watch this,” he says, striding over to Chuuya. “Stay still, Chibi.”
Chuuya glares at him, irritation evident in his eyes and in his raw, wide-blown nostrils. “If you’re doi’g anythi’g other thad helpi’g, Dazai, I will obliterate you,” he says darkly, throat crackling and sore.
Dazai grins wide. “Relax,” he says. He wiggles a finger. “I know Chuuya’s sneeze spot.”
“What the fuck even is a—” Dazai presses a finger to the bridge of Chuuya’s nose, in the center, and gives it a circular rub back and forth. Chuuya stumbles back and manages a wavering, shaky curse in French before he snaps forward with a fusillade of unrestrained sneezes.
“Hih-ASHHHu! Hep’ASHHU! AHSSHU! AHSSH! AHSSHH! AHSSHU! Merde!…Heh-heh…hih’ASHHU!”
Chuuya sneezes and sneezes, for once uncaring about decorum. It’s a miracle his hat doesn’t fly off. He’s so overcome with finally scratching the itch in his nose that he almost doesn’t feel the tap at his shoulder. Dazai’s extending a packet of tissues that look like they were newly purchased.
“Goodness! I don’t know whether to bless Chuuya or call an exorcist,” he remarks.
“Shut up,” Chuuya mutters around a tissue. With that annoyance out of the way, it’s seeping in just how awful he feels. He sighs, heavy, and rubs at a temple. “Nom de dieu…”
“I really don’t know how someone so little can sneeze with such ferocity,” continues Dazai, ignoring Chuuya. It’s easy to say the man was put on this earth for the sole purpose of making Chuuya’s life miserable. “Hih…ASHHU!” Chuuya’s head gives a throb and things slide out of focus for a minute. He coughs, rough, and pushes some sweaty hair away from his face. How unsightly.
“Oh, and Chuuya?” Dazai makes a burlesque of leaning in and peering at him. “The next time you’re sick, call in, okay?” And then he reaches one lanky arm over and pats Chuuya’s head.
“I never said I was sick,” Chuuya snaps, jerking out of reach. Dazai makes to poke his nose again, but Chuuya evades him with a hoarse snarl. “Stop.”
In response, Dazai gives him a condescending look that Chuuya knows well. It’s the one where he purses his lips and crinkles up his large, dark eyes. The one he knows infuriates Chuuya the most. “Please,” he says, waving a hand. “I knew before we even got here. Just wanted to see how long you could keep it up.”
Chuuya opens his mouth to utter some expletive, he doesn’t know which one yet, but the sneezy feeling decides to return—bristling like a thousand tiny whiskers along the rims of his inner nose. Stifling it to refute Dazai’s point will only make his head pound harder, so Chuuya wrenches to the side with a sneeze. Which, naturally, makes him cough.
“Hmmm, you really don’t sound good, Chuuya.”
“Fuck you.”
Dazai makes a face. “Ew, no thanks. But since you’re already paying for my dry cleaning, why don’t I treat you to a nice bowl of leek soup and tea?”
Dazai is so confusing at times Chuuya could strangle him. Or at least blame him for the acute emotional whiplash.
“Hh’ASSHu! AHSSH! J'en peux plus…” Chuuya twitches his nose to the side and straightens his hat. “Whatever—let’s just find that drive and get the hell out of here so I can go to bed,” he grumbles. It’s not exactly a refusal (because tea does in fact sound nice), but Chuuya is more than done with this place.
“You mean this?” Dazai wiggles a little USB between two bandaged fingers. Chuuya sputters. “Yup. Found it ages ago and switched it with a fake.”
“AAH?!”
— Fin —
#snz#snz kink#hachiisnzart#ch/uuy/a n/akahar/a#b/ungo st/ray d/ogs#o/sam/u d/az/ai#hachiibunart#ppls fics#onetrickponi#my GOODNESS poni your writing#give all the thanks to poni for the wonderful fic and patience waiting for me to finish#seeing all the ppl into b/s/d nowadays is so lovely#i'm still v much into the series and especially this angry shorty#hopefully it shows in my part >;)
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WE GOT EN'S FULL NAME AND VIGILANTE/HERO NAME!!!! YEAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!
#FINALLY#EVEN A NEW PANEL OF HOW AFO SEES HIM#hey AFO.... can you share more about the past users? youre the only one who remembers their details anymore#you hated kudo so much you wiped out the women and children he was close to and any relatives so#you probably know a megaton about kudo especially right?#please oh please with yoichis hand on top#mha#bnha#my hero academia#boku no hero academia#spoilers#banjo daigoro#lariat#EN TAYUTAI#GAEN#THATS CUTE#EN PUT HIS REAL NAME AS A PART OF HIS ALIAS#my boy did the equivalent of “En123” for his name#I WANT TO HOLD HIM UNDER HIS PITS AND SHAKE HIM AROUND LIKE THE SHORTIE HE ISSS#BABBBYYYY#SO CUTEEE#en tayutai#the name tayutai just reminds me of the guy in fairy tail who goes “tai tai!” and hes got a stupid looking face#no thoughts head empty#oh en thats ADORABLE.#edit: if this is when enemies were assigning aliases to their enemies#then what if someone just when “gaki en” (“brat en”) and combined that#because yeah en is a brat. look how young he is#idk the writing for this in japanese but. what if
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The best love poems
I have written
have always
been
about
me.
- The Short Poems Series by Royla Paula Rădița Asghar
#shortie#shorties#love#self love#poetry#royla asghar#writer#poem#madness#spilled ink#writing#prose#in love
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follow me like the moon (chapter 2)
When Bodhi turns it over to her with a thoughtful, “And how’s everything with you?”—well, Jyn rightfully panics.
“Uh…there was a really hot guy at the diner the other day…well, night. The other morning. Whatever,” she offers, pathetically. After a year of working overnights, you’d think she'd know what to call it.
“Really?” Bodhi asks, obviously intrigued. Because he’s the best, and even if her life is objectively less interesting than his, he still cares about how she’s doing.
“Yep.”
“And?” he presses. “What happened?”
“Nothing happened,” Jyn says, trying not to scoff. “He was a customer. He came in, he ate, he left.”
“Like the proverbial panda.”
“What?”
“The panda. From that joke? ‘Eats, shoots, and leaves?’” Bodhi explains. “Never mind. It’s just a dumb joke.”
(read the rest on AO3)
(start from the beginning)
#a chapter update that will maybe excite nobody#but oh well#the besties are gossiping#consider it an easter present from me a person who hasnt written in like a month#rebelcaptain#on a technicality#the fic is about them even if this chapter largely isnt#jyn erso#bodhi rook#cassian andor#rogue one#rogue one fanfiction#star wars#homelywenchsociety#that's my writing tag! don't worry about it!#this chapter was an awkward length because it's pretty short but the next chapter would have been ungodly long with it attached#so yeah just a little shortie update for anyone looking for more of this AU#love you#hoppy easter
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The safety of your shoulder,
the warmth of your skin,
the gentle touch of your breath on my hair.
If home is a place of calm within the storm,
then I never want to leave
the encircling of your arms.
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Excerpt: Hands of a Healer
Sidon is sure his heart is racing with anticipation for the coming battle and not because a certain Hylian warrior standing in front of him in not only full Zora armor. He hadn’t even known Hylian greaves existed but leave it to Link to be the one to find them. To make matters worse he bore only silverscale Zora weapons that, once Sidon realized, did nothing to help his beating heart, nor the heat rising in his cheeks. A prince does not stare open mouthed at their friend running towards them before a fight, but watching a friend approach with a mouth closed in an enthusiastic smile that hides your blue cheeks is a totally different and perfectly allowed thing to do. He fights back his rushing heart, focusing back on the task before them. Protect Link. Calm Ruta. Save the Domain.
But then Link grins at him, face alight with devilish excitement and Sidon is forced to squash the flurry of thoughts that bloom again under the light of those blue eyes.
Link holds two thumbs up when he reaches Sidon, excited to face the beast. Sidon returns the smile with his own and jumps, flipping into the water. Such a show-off, Link thinks with a small smile. Sidon turns around grinning as if he can hear Link’s thoughts.
“Are you ready, my friend?” Link’s smile widens and he nods. “Great answer! Now, mount me, Link! I believe in you, I know we can do this, together!”
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Sketches of he Retail Yuri girls
#retail yuri#im writing a lot of it but its not gonna materialize for a while#bones rattle#skelearts#my art#shorty is named Seren and the string bean js Nat
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Hypnovember: Transformation
Danni tried to think back before she met Emily. Back before she was collared and enslaved. It's as if she hadn't existed. Not gone but unnecessary to remember.
Emily had chiseled away the parts undesired. A slave has no need for things that don’t aid in their service.
Emily had never broken a slave. She had no need to. Danni had given herself willingly, she just never knew it. Before Danni was collared, Emily owned her mind. Her words enlarged and unleashed desires Danni never knew were buried within her. Where there weren't desires Emily planted needs. Cravings. Lusts. All unfulfilled by design.
Danni kept returning to go deeper and shed more of herself. Until one day she never left. Gone was the curious girl who liked to poke bears. In her place lived a slave desperate to please because it's her only reward now.
She was happier than ever because her owner told her so.
@ellaenchanting
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reminder to all the writers out there : if you post a fic late at night, make sure you go back and check the summaries you create when your in a tired haze because they might just be wrong😃👍anyways i apologize to anyone who was scrolling through ao3 last night and found any errors in my summary for my bitb hogwarts au, i was so tired-
#just make sure you check…#just in case#anyways go read the first chapter of snow angel#shouldn’t have any errors now…#i don’t think-#no promises#the boys in the boat#joe rantz#bobby moch#don hume#shorty hunt#chuck day#roger morris#hogwarts au#writing#ao3#ao3 writer#ao3 author#writers on tumblr#writing struggles
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Did I just finish chapter four a whole week before schedule? Yes, yes I did.
#it’s a shorty but it’s the stepping stone to all the stuff you’ve all been waiting for 😉#now i can work on some other half way done wips#and catch up on reading#and not have to worry about writing this one on my vacation#all i really want is you series
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