#very short story
Text
“Well I was gentle because you said yourself that you were delicate, so I tried to give you what you needed.”
A diligent lover.
“Mmhmm. And you did.”
Acknowledgement.
“I’m glad…”
A sad smile.
Silence.
“And what about you?”
Eyes meet.
Blue like ice locking on peridot so bright it makes her long for what they had before she decided to walk away. Before her fear kicked in.
“What about me?”
Silence.
“Did you get what you need?”
The warmth in the peridot flickers before fading completely, but not before guilt flashes through them.
Silence.
“…No.”
Averted eyes.
Weighted air.
One feels shame
The other relief.
“The sex was fun. I had hoped that there would be more time for us to try new things, but I liked what we did. I liked it a lot. But I also liked you a lot. The little sweet nothings you whispered to me when we fucked felt good, unlike when you pulled away and acted like nothing happened and blamed me for everything.”
Silence.
“I don’t mean to sound accusatory and I’m not here to place blame on you…but I would be lying if I said you didn’t break my heart.”
#very short story#korrasami#legend of korra#closure#breakup#Asami is speaking her truth#she wants korra#sapphic#wlw post#asami sato#Korra
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
An Infection
looking at the sun
kindness as he creates models
a few hurts harden
his kindness evaporates, flees
looking at the moon
hardened as he destroys hearts
unrecognisable soul
he has an infection of dark power
looking at the sun and the moon
darkness and light
becoming something hardly new
they wither, perish
#infection#power#dark and light#perish#moon#kindness#the darkness#candkwords#gippsland poets#poetry#original poetry#poemsbyme#spilledwords#very short story#vss365#poets and writers#my writing#poets of tumblr
9 notes
·
View notes
Text
First Meetings
Lovely had gone over to Sam's place, without Vincent's knowledge, because they wanted to talk to him since he was already apart of the magical world before his turning. And as much as they loved Vincent, their experiences were very different. But when they got to the house they found Darlin' opening the door instead.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Lovely softly knocked, having to hold themselves back from rapidly hitting the door like a mad man They didn't know how much time they had. They knew Vincent would be okay with them coming over but knew it would be hell for him if he knew they weren't safe back at home. Even if it was Sam's house they were at, Vincent was now they're maker and his stress and protectiveness for them has increased ever since.
Finally, the door swing open but they froze seeing someone who was not Sam standing there. They quickly wracked through their brain trying to recall who would be allowed over here before they recognized the other's core and sensed them to be a werewolf.
Darlin, that had to be the one. Sam's..mate? They couldn't remember if that was the right term. Werewolves have been one of the many types of empowered people that they haven't really encountered yet.
"Oh I'm sorry, I thought Sam was- I can come back another time."
"Wait you're lovely, aren't you? Vincent's partner?" They nodded in return shifting from one foot to the other. Their nerves getting to them now.
Darlin sighed. "He'll be back soon, you can wait here if you'd like."
"Are you sure? I can just come back another time." Knowing damn well this would probably be one of the few times they could come over without Vincent either coming with them or stressing out the entire time they're gone.
Darlin opened the door more. "Yeah it's fine, I kind of showed up here too without a warning."
They hesitantly passed them, eyes glancing up to meet theirs but then shot back down just as quickly. Darlin had an intimidating stare, and whether they meant to or not, it made Lovely want to book it for the hills.
"Thanks," they quietly said, eyes shifting around the place. Before then noticing Darlin had their shoes off and quickly took theirs off and put them on the rack by the door.
"No problem, you can wait in the living room." Then lead to it before having Lovely sit on the couch while Darlin sat down on the armchair, leaning forwards to pick up their cup from the coffee table. Before then sitting back and looking at them again with that intense stare.
The vampire kept their gaze on anything and everything else, doing their best to ignore their burning stare.
"You were recently turned, weren't you, at the games?" Lovely tensed up, eyes glazing over as they thought back to it. Darlin's eyes widened slightly when they realized. "Shit I wasn't trying to ask you for any details or anything about it. I was just confused of why you're here if you're still freshly turned. I thought you would be more comfortable around your maker and would want to be by his side."
Lovely shrugged a bit eyes downcast at the floor. "I just..I wanted to ask Sam more about the turning."
They went quiet for a bit, eyes scrunched together in confusion. "Don't take this as me saying that I don't want you here but why can't you ask Vincent? If I'm not wrong he was turned years before Sam was."
"It's different," they explained making Darlin tilt their head in confusion. "Vincent didn't have powers before he was turned. Sam did."
Realization crossed the wolf's face. "Oh."
Lovely nodded, rubbing their hands together anxiously. A tense silence passed through the room and was only broken a minute later by the newly turned.
"Did Sam ever talk about what it was like when he was turned?" They hesitantly asked, peeking over to Darlin.
"Not in great detail, but whenever he does mention it I can see that he's still in great pain from it. Even after all these years that pain from having his powers, and his old life, ripped away from him, hasn't diminished."
Lovely stiffened. "So he still never fully recovered from what had happened?"
They shook their head in response. "It became more subtle over time but I can tell it still cuts him deeply, losing that part of himself." They began tearing up causing Darlin to freeze, looking at them in panic. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you-shit um..."
Lovely buried their face in their hands, shoulders shaking harshly.
The other berated themself for not being more careful with their words. They set their cup back down trying to think of anything to comfort them. They now began to wish that Sam would hurry up with whatever he was doing.
"I wasn't trying to make you feel worse, I'm sorry," they apologized, guilt wrenching at them at the sound of their sniffles.
Lovely shook their head, desperately wiping their eyes to stop their tears. "No no, it's fine. I should know what I'm in for. I just..I wished that it would at least get better."
"It does."
Lovely shot them a glare, not meaning to but not wanting them to start backtracking out of pity. "Please don't try to bullsh-"
"No, fuck I'm really bad with this. What I mean is the way you handle it gets better. Your acceptance of it gets better. The pain doesn't lessen, but you start to find better ways to handle it and be able to move on with it." Lovely finally stopped crying, and Darlin passed them the tissues on the coffee table.
They wiped away their remaining tears. "How does..how does Sam deal with it?"
"He has his ways of being able to handle it, to be able to help himself when certain days are really bad. I don't know exactly what they are so you'll need to ask him."
Lovely nodded and a silence entered the room once again. Darlin tensed, ready for them to start crying again.
But they instead mumbled, "Thank you."
"For what?"
"Talking to me, not trying to tell me everything's going to be alright. That this hurt will go away eventually. Vincent...Vincent hasn't really done that, but I can tell he's dancing around his words so he doesn't push me too far. He's doing his best but we're both kind of..." trailing off as they struggled to word it correctly.
"Recovering?" Lovely looked at them a bit shocked they understood but nodded nonetheless. "You both had been in there and you both had gone through some traumatic stuff. You both are so worried of pushing each other too far and it'll take time before you can feel comfortable again."
Lovely nodded before smiling a little and teasing lightly, "Maybe he should come talk to you, you seem pretty good with this stuff."
Darlin put their head back, rubbing their eyes. "Lord I do not want to talk to anymore new people. If he tries booking a therapy appointment I'm hanging up garlic on the front door." The other laughed lowly making Darlin smirk as they brought their head back up.
"Do you want to watch something while we wait then? I actually have no idea when he'll get here."
Lovely nodded, watching as Darlin got up to grab the remote and move over to the long couch the other was sitting on.
Hours passed before Sam got home. He went to unlock his front door but paused when he saw it was already unlocked. His eyes darted back up, his body now on high alert. He opened the door quietly and stepped inside. Eyes searching around the place before landing on his couch where he saw his Darlin' sitting on the couch with their head tossed back on it and eyes closed. His expression softened at the sight of them as he moved closer but then pausing once again.
Lovely laid fast asleep on the couch with their head on his mate's lap. Darlin' had a hand in their hair making him think they had been running their hand through it before falling asleep too. A soft smile spread across his lips as he looked at the two softly before heading to his room to let them both relax a bit longer.
106 notes
·
View notes
Text
Majima doesn't go on trains often. They bore him and make him unreasonably sleepy, so he relies on taxis should they be available, or he just goes on foot if it's manageable.
If he does have to go on trains, which he usually avoids, he brings along Nishida- His trusted lieutenant, because he knows having somebody he knows with him will put him on high alert, thus causing him to stay awake.
It does not seem to work this time, as he starts struggling to keep his eye open, and the noise of the large vehicle is starting to put him to sleep. Nishida, ever the angel, says nothing of it. He continues to scribble away at a small stack of paper on his very worn out clipboard.
He really should get the kid a new one...
(He says that to himself often, and then never does.)
He gives up trying to stay awake when he finds what whatever his head has decided to droop onto is rather comfortable, and promptly drifts off to sleep.
Nishida believes he must be going insane when he feels Goro Majima lay his head on his shoulder. He doesn't quite understand why in the world he's being so gentle when he's always hated touch, and then he hears the slight snores that escape his lips, and it starts to make sense.
He makes an effort not to move a muscle- If he woke up his Oyaji he'd never forgive himself and he was sure that Majima wouldn't forgive him either, so he minimizes his movements and tries to write a little quieter.
When Majima wakes up, their stop is only about half an hour away. He looks confused, but it quickly turns to a glare, and then it softens.
"Musta' fallen asleep." He says.
"I'm sorry if I woke you. I tried not to move... I- I didn't want to disturb you or anything." Nishida smiles, small and slightly nervous.
"Did I step out of bounds by not waking you up?"
"Naw- Naw, ya did fine." Majima lays his head back down, and Nishida is sure he's going insane this time. Or maybe he's with an impostor and this isn't actually Majima speaking to him.
He sucks in a breath through his teeth and glances over to him. He still has the eyepatch, his goatee, his jacket, the same tattoos-
Nishida swallows and glances back over to his clipboard. He doesn't want to be caught looking at him for too long.
Majima opens his mouth to speak again, "Yer a really good kid."
"I'm glad you think so, Sir." Nishida replies quickly, "You can go back to sleep if you want to. We get there in half an hour, I think."
Majima doesn't reply, but after ten minutes have passed and Nishida has set his clipboard into his backpack, the man has fallen asleep again.
Nishida says nothing of the smile on his patriarch's lips, or the warmth that fills his chest at the sight of it, instead he is gentle as he makes sure Majima doesn't fall forward, and he is silent as he waits for their stop.
(i swear I've written better stuff than this pleas trust m)
#drabble#question mark#very short story#nishida#nishida yakuza#yakuza nishida#nishida and majima#yakuza majima#goro majima#majima#majima goro#mad dog of shimano#trains#yakuza kiwami 2#yakuza kiwami#yakuza games#rgg
20 notes
·
View notes
Text
A is for Ancient
You asked me something earlier, before we stepped into this arena.
Is it true that age equals experience?
Not always, I would say. Sometimes, it doesn’t: a 90-year-old who’s never picked up a brush is nowhere near as experienced as a teenager who’s spent their life painting. But that same teenager most likely knows next to nothing about work and taxes and how to cope with someone’s death.
Oh, I know. I know yours wasn't a question. Your taunts really aren't as subtle as you think they are. But you asked, and I want to answer, so hear me out.
Experience isn’t universal. But let’s say that you meet someone much older than you: they’re not a warrior, the same as you, but they’re so much older that boredom has led them to an occasional dance with a blade, on and off.
When you’re fighting, you don’t need to be good. You just need to be better.
And someone who’s spent fifty years on and off swinging a blade at a mannequin is bound to have learnt something, yes? Oh, no, I don’t mean several times over the course of fifty years. You misunderstand me.
I mean fifty years in total. A span of time that’s greater than you’ve ever lived, and a tiny little drop in the ocean of my existence. I’ve lived fifty years so many times that it may as well be a week for you, if we were to draw a fair comparison.
Boredom is more powerful than someone as young as you can comprehend.
Well, we’ve talked long enough, judging by your face. Tell me, my friend:
Do you still think you have a chance?
#short story#very short story#based on a prompt#see prev post#horror prompts#horror#short horror story
10 notes
·
View notes
Text
My curiosity got the best of me😭
(Sorry if my grammar is bad lol)
#not one of my proudest origin stories#inside out#inside out fandom#joy x sadness#pixar inside out#inside out disney#lol#very short story
9 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Doegin and the Desert
“How will the wind find you?” the Doegin asked, his eyes scanned the faces of his students.
“As a traveler,” the children recited.
“How will the heat take you?” he demanded.
“As a fighter,” they exclaimed.
“How will the desert keep you?” he asked.
“As dust,” the children replied with a sense of reverence. “The desert goes forever. The desert is forever. As dust, so too are we.”
The Doegin smiled and the children were proud. The old Doegin would the next of them to battle the desert. The elders being at peace with their battles brought the children comfort.
9 notes
·
View notes
Text
The girl and the wall
There once was a girl that spent her whole life staring at walls. It was a thing that came so naturally to her that she never even stopped to wonder about it.
When she woke in the morning, her eyes were already busy fixing themselves to the nearest wall in eyesight. Whenever she moved about, her eyes would always reconstruct her surroundings by tracing along the walls. And there were always…
View On WordPress
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
Moonlighting
Everyday Drabbles #1008
He wanted to give her the Moon, but it seemed too far away. Most nights, they couldn’t see it except as a dirty orange blur hidden behind a picket of skyscrapers.
One day he rented a boat and took her out on the canal. He rowed toward a little footbridge in the tourist quarter.
“Why are we stopping here?” She asked.
“Just wait.” As the sun sank behind the office towers, the city lights came up, illuminating the underside of the bridge.
She gasped at the perfect, golden crescent reflected in the water.
He pulled the ring from his pocket.
[photographer: unknown]
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
Gretchen set out the cups and plates while Hannah poured the tea. It was a very special day, and they had a very special guest.
"Okay, Daddy."
A collage of tea cups, plates & snacks greeted Scott as he entered the room.
"It looks wonderful."
She beamed. "Happy Father's Day."
#words by parker#rhonda parker#werewolves#very short story#adorkable author#father's day with the harris family
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
"i'm ready to go home" the soft voice of a young child cried in the dark.
but what they didn't know, was that home is gone.
now is forever.
and time as we know it has stopped.
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
I walked through the empty and bloody hallways which once beamed with the sounds of gunshots, yelling, and most of all, bloodshed. "Pathetic," I whispered, continuing my silent walk to find him. A man I once trusted with my life… but nothing lasts forever. A lesson I always end up learning on my own. "I will rip the heart out of him as he did to me." I kicked open the broken door only to reveal a tall, princely-looking man, aiming at me. "How disappointing, you're just like all the others. I've taken the life out of…"
"You're crazy."
"Oh, how original!"
"I'm the last thing you'll see before you die. Be grateful."
His head was destined to be in a guillotine when he saw her when he thought of her when he loved her… all she did was pull.
6 notes
·
View notes
Text
Hygge Sleeping
the caress of a throw rug
your favourite chair by the fire
listening to the crackling
Undercover, yet exposed
the vast skylight flooding night
movements in the sky
#hygge#cat nap#throw rug#by the fire#undercover#skylights#night#candkwords#gippsland poets#poetry#spilledwords#vss#very short story#vss365
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Life of a Table
The tray shook slowly
bringing the hot, sensuous
elixir that beckoned like a kiss
to the man at the small, round table
that slightly bent to one side.
As the cup and saucer
were set into place,
the saucer begin to slowly fill
with the beginnings of
a pool of coffee
that leaked into it
from a crack in the cup;
almost too tiny to see,
but devastating in it’s purpose now.
The man at…
View On WordPress
#Blog#Fiction#poem#Poetry#Short Fiction#short poem#short poetry#short story#thoughts#very short story#writing
0 notes
Text
It was inside this very suitcase, which contained a container, which had been placed in a box that when pried open, contained a packet composed of brown paper, inside which there resided a set of documents stating that this very suitcase contained a container, which had been placed in a box that when pried open, contained a packet composed of brown paper, inside which there resided a set of documents stating that this very suitcase…
0 notes
Text
STORY: Horkos, the Oath
Very short, unpleasant. Based on one of Aesop's fables, but the ending is my own. To break one's oath is evil, but what is even worse?
If you enjoyed it, feel free to check out my Patreon.
Horkos, the Oath, by Christina Nordlander
When my friend Pythias told me that he would go abroad for a year to trade, and asked me to swear an oath to look after his household and estate until he returned, I did not reply immediately. His estate was stucco-white and lush with pines; his overseer lived in a finer house than I. I passed through the outskirts of the city and out into the road, to struggle with myself – not whether I would break my faith to him, but if I could do it and get away.
I stepped out of the way of a man who dragged himself on two crutches, deformed in every limb, so broken that his bone-frame would not have been recognisable as a man’s.
“May I help you, old sir?” I asked, on the look-out for something good to do to outweigh that which my thoughts strove towards.
I don’t even know whether he was old, or whether his great injury had dealt with his body like the blow of many years.
“I need no help, stripling,” he grouched without looking up at me. “Let it take the time it takes.”
He must have felt my questioning gaze, for he went on:
“I am Horkos, the Oath, and I am on my way to one who swore falsely.”
Strengthened, my steps swift, I returned to the white palatial house and swore to Pythias – I cannot even remember on what – to preserve his estate for him.
The door was wrenched open, so hard it banged against the opposite wall. I assumed such a force could only be the rush of a storm, but I saw the old man, the Oath. He raised me over his head so that I could no longer reach to grab on to anything. His body was nothing but knotted muscle. He rushed with me up the stairs, and then I realised what was happening.
As he held me over the balustrade, and I felt the depths below, I tried to beg, to bargain, like all will do in the final moment.
He chuckled.
“When one swears with the intention to break one’s oath,” he said, bracing, “I am there within the hour.”
I remember the vertigo when the sky and the rocks tumbled one over the other. The pain I do not have to remember; it transfixes my body since then, unfaded.
My body, unrecognisable where it had been broken and fused, did not want to die. It drew breath after breath, and my mind sheltered in my chest and could not stop it.
I found a crutch on the ground, then another, and started dragging myself along the road.
THE END
0 notes
Last Seen Blogs
