Random One Shots
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- Parts 25
MatureOngoing2h 9m
Last published Fri, Jul 30, 2021
In this book, there will be;
Fluff
Angst
Smut
Fluffy Angst
Fluffy Smut
Requests are always going to stay open, bare with me, as it may take me a few days to get around to writing out your requests.
All Rights Reserved
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ðð¢ð€ð ð ðŒð£ð ðððð©ððð§ - ððŒðð¿ððð ðŸðððœðð ð ðððŒð¿ðð â
"ðð³ð¢ð»ðº? ð¥ð¶ð¯ð¯ð°' 'ð£ð°ð¶ðµ ð€ð³ð¢ð»ðº, ð'ð¥ ðŽð¢ðº ðºð°ð¶'ð³ðŠ ð«ð¶ðŽðµ ð¢ ðµð¢ð¥ ð®ð°ð³ðŠ ðªð¯ðµðŠð³ðŠðŽðµðªð¯', ð¢ ððªð' ð¶ð¯ð±ð³ðŠð¥ðªð€ðµð¢ð£ððŠ." "ððŠðŽðªð¥ðŠðŽ, ðµð©ðŠ ð€ð³ð¢ð»ðªðŠðŽðµ ðžð°ð®ðŠð¯ ð¢ð³ðŠ ðµð©ðŠ ð±ð³ðŠðµðµðªðŠðŽðµ." "ðð¯ð¥ ðª'ð® ð«ð¶ðŽðµ ð¢ ð±ð°ð°ð³ ð£ð¢ðŽðµð¢ð³ð¥ ðµð©ð¢ðµ ðð°ð·ðŠðŽ ð±ð³ðŠðµðµðº ðµð©ðªð¯ðšðŽ." --- They would ooze rumours of both you're name, placed with the utterly specific adjectives, 'deranged', 'psychotic', and simply 'sick'. That was what you were known for, context or not. It was a simple way of living. Within the red-dirt town of Sandrange, with little entertainment and a harbour of saloon-goers in need of any form of amusement, this made you a target whether you liked it or not. Although, not unfamiliar with the wording, it's both the eyes of their burning scowls and the words that spit like fire from their tongue's that become something you can never get used to. So, you never left home. Cacooned in your home for weeks to months on end, all to hide from the town and the prejudice they willingly held, this torturous routine had only been broken by the two knocks on my door, and the call of the Sheriff requesting to come inside. ---Complete
Forbidden Bird of Night |18+|
ðŒ ðšð©ð€ð§ð® ððð€ðªð© ð©ð¬ð€ ðšð€ðªð¡ðš ð§ðððððð ðð€ð§ ððð§, ðððð ð¥ð§ð€ð¢ððšðð£ð ðð€ð§ðð«ðð§ ðð£ ð ðððððð§ðð£ð© ð¡ðð£ððªððð. |"ððð§ðððð©ðð€ð£'ðš ðð§ð ðð£ ðð¡ð¡ðªðšðð€ð£, ðð©'ðš ð©ðð ðð¡ðð¬ðš ð©ððð© ð¢ðð ð ðð© ðð£ð©ðð§ððšð©ðð£ð."| |"ðððð® ð£ðð«ðð§ ð¡ð€ð€ð ðð ðð© ðððð ð€ð©ððð§. ðð£ð¡ð® ð¢ð-ð¡ðð ð ð ð¬ððš ð©ðð ððð©ð©ð¡ððððð¡ð. ððð ð€ð£ð¡ð® ð©ððð£ð ð©ððð® ðð«ðð§ ððð§ððð ð€ð£... ð¬ððš ð¬ðð£ð©ðð£ð ð¢ð."| ð ð¬ððšð£'ð© ð ððð£ ð€ð ðð€ð£ðð®, ððªð© ðšðð£ðð ðšðð ð©ððšð©ððš ð¡ðð ð ðŸðð§ð¢ðð¡ ðð£ð ðšðð'ðš ðð§ðð¯ð¯ð¡ðð ð¬ðð©ð ðð€ð£ðð®, ð ð¬ð€ðªð¡ðð£'ð© ð¢ðð£ð ð¡ððð ðð£ð ðð© ð€ðð ðð«ðð§ð® ðð§ðð«ððšðšð ð€ð ððð§ ðð€ðð®. ð«ððððð ððð & ðªððð ðððððð -He has a condition called Synesthesia where he can taste colors/sounds. -She suffers from (DPD) Dependent personality disorder. ðªððððð(Past) || A 16-year-old who was given away at 14, now living In an orphanage planning his escape, but stumbles upon a young girl before his leave. ðªððððð (Present) || A businessman who now works In an art museum showcasing his art based on memories from his past. ã»â¥...ââââââââ
ððŒððð. - ððŒðð¿ððð ð ðððŒð¿ðð â
ððªðŽ ðŠðºðŠððªð¯ðŠð³ ðµð¢ðªð¯ðµðŽ ð€ðð°ðµð©ðªð¯ðš ð±ð¶ð³ðŠ ð°ð§ ð€ð°ðð°ð¶ð³, ð¢ ð³ðŠð®ðªð¯ð¥ðŠð³ ð°ð§ ð©ðªðŽ ðŠð¹ðªðŽðµðŠð¯ð€ðŠ. ððŽ ðªð§ ð©ðªðŽ ðŽð€ðŠð¯ðµ ð¢ðð°ð¯ðŠ ð¥ð°ðŠðŽð¯'ðµ ðŽðµðªð€ð¬ ðµð° ðºð°ð¶, ð¥ð³ð°ðžð¯ðªð¯ðš ðºð°ð¶ð³ ð°ðžð¯, ð±ð°ðŽðŽðŠðŽðŽðªð·ðŠ ðªð¯ ðªðµðŽ ðŠð®ð£ð³ð¢ð€ðŠ. ððŽ ðªð§ ðºð°ð¶ ðŠð·ðŠð³ ð¯ðŠðŠð¥ðŠð¥ ð¢ ð³ðŠð®ðªð¯ð¥ðŠð³, ðžð©ðŠð¯ ð©ðªðŽ ð¯ð¢ð®ðŠ ðªð¯ð¬ðŽ ðµð©ðŠ ð±ð¢ðšðŠðŽ ð°ð§ ðºð°ð¶ð³ ð¯ð°ðµðŠð£ð°ð°ð¬ðŽ, ð©ð¶ð³ð³ðªðŠð¥ððº ðŽð€ð³ð¢ðµð€ð©ðŠð¥ ð°ð¶ðµ ð£ðŠð§ð°ð³ðŠ ð§ð°ð³ðŠðªðšð¯ ðŠðºðŠðŽ ð€ð¢ð¯ ðŽð¶ðŽð±ðŠð€ðµ ðµð©ðŠ ð¯ð¶ð®ð£ðŠð³ ð°ð§ ðµðªð®ðŠðŽ ðºð°ð¶'ð·ðŠ ðµð¢ðŽðµðŠð¥ ð©ðªðŽ ð¯ð¢ð®ðŠ ð°ð¯ ðºð°ð¶ð³ ððªð±ðŽ. --- A juxtaposition, you were to him. As the teenage world - high school - seemed to collapse under the pressures of social groups and conforming to the image one presented, you were more than one-dimensional than many assumed. You stood in the spotlight that everyone assumed you wanted, whilst he could only linger by the sidelines, a quiet observer to whom you never expected to find such comfort with. Yet the further you sink into the hole of his life, the nuance he had and how eccentric he seemed, would you grow more and more desensitised to the worst he could show, as the horrors of his mind would lay bare by the simple factor of his infatuation. ---Complete
dsmp oneshots 2022
disclaimer; This book contains, smut, kinks, gore, angst, fluff, and all that good shit. disclaimer of a disclaimer; I. DO. NOT. SUPPORT. THEM. ANYMORE. (2025) !DO NOT REPOST ANY OF MY WORK WITHOUT MY PERMISSION!Complete
ð¿ðð«ðð¡ ðð£ððð§ð£ðð©ð ð¿ð§ððð© - ððŒðð¿ððð ð ðððŒð¿ðð â
(As this is an older story of mine, the literacy and grammar within this story is not as polished or skilled as what's recent within my works!) --- "ðð° ðºð°ð¶ ð©ð¢ð·ðŠ ð¢ð¯ðº ðªð¥ðŠð¢ ð©ð°ðž ð€ðð°ðŽðŠ ð'ð·ðŠ ð¢ðð³ðŠð¢ð¥ðº ð£ðŠðŠð¯ ðµð° ðºð°ð¶?" "ðð°ðž ðð°ð¯ðš ð'ð·ðŠ ð¢ðð³ðŠð¢ð¥ðº ð£ðŠðŠð¯ ðžð¢ðµð€ð©ðªð¯ðš?" "ð ð¬ð¯ð°ðž ðµð©ðŠ ðµðªð®ðŠðŽ ðºð°ð¶ ððŠð¢ð·ðŠ ð¢ð¯ð¥ ð³ðŠðµð¶ð³ð¯," "ðð©ðŠð³ðŠ ðºð°ð¶ ðšð°, ðžð©ð°'ðŽ ðºð°ð¶ð³ ð§ð³ðªðŠð¯ð¥." "ð'ð·ðŠ ð£ðŠðŠð¯ ðŽðµð¶ð¥ðºðªð¯ðš ðºð°ð¶ ðŽð° ðžðŠðð." "ðð¯ð¥ ð'ð® ððŠð¢ð³ð¯ðªð¯ðš ðžð©ð¢ðµ ðªðµ'ðð ðµð¢ð¬ðŠ ð§ð°ð³ ðºð°ð¶ ðµð° ðŽð¶ð³ð³ðŠð¯ð¥ðŠð³ ðµð° ð®ðŠ." --- As a new nurse at the Psychiatric Ward, one of your assigned patients is Stanislav Dostoevsky. A Russian man with a thick accent, an unkempt appearance and a dark demeanour lingers around him, in a greater contrast to the other patients. It wasn't the silence and distance he held from others within the Psychiatric Ward that was terrifying, it was the intensity of his gaze, the way the glow of the sterile tiles and walls reflected against the whites of his eyes, and just how much he's been observing. --- (This is based on a C.ai Bot I created and its storyline! The characters and storyline were all created by me! The C.ai bot link will be in the author's note within the first chapter along with detailed warnings and such!) ---Complete
Lost In Silence | On Hold
ගà·à¶žà¶§ යටà·à¶±à· à¶à·à·à·à¶± à·à·à¶¯ à·à·à·à¶à·à·à¶§ චචà¶à·à·à·à· ඞà·à¶±à·à·à·à·à· à¶à·à¶¯à·à·à¶à· රà·à¶¯à·à¶¯à·à·à· නà·....රà·à¶¯à·à¶± à¶à·à¶±à· à·à¶»à· ඎරà·à·à·à·à¶žà¶§ චචà¶à·à·à· à·à·à¶à¶»à¶ºà· Start:2025/11/14
Prinxiety Oneshots
Get ready for all the fluff and angst (as well as fluffy angst) that is to come!Complete
Hated Obsession
ðð©ð€ð§ð® ð€ð ððð ðšð ðð£ð ððððð ðð£ðð¢ðððš ð©ð€ ð¡ð€ð«ðð§ðš ððððð ð ððððð ðœððððšðš ð¢ð¡ ðð£ð ðð¢ð¡ ðð€ð§ððð ð¢ðð§ð§ðððð ðð ððð¡ð¡ ððð§ðšð©, ðð€ð©ð ððð¡ð¡ ððð§ððð§ ððð ðšð ððð¬ðð© ð¬ððð£ ðð'ðš ð©ðð ð¡ððððð§ ð€ð ð€ð£ð ð€ð ð©ðð ððððððšð© ð¢ðððð ðð§ð€ðªð¥ ðð£ð ð ðð¡ð¡ðð§ ð€ð ððð§ ððð©ððð§ ðð£ð ð¢ðð§ð§ððð ððð§ ðð€ð§ððððªð¡ð¡ð®... ððððð ððð£ðððð£ðð ð¬ððð£ ðšðð ððš ð©ðð ðððªððð©ðð§ ð€ð ð ð¢ðððð ðð€ðšðš ðð£ð ðð«ðð§ð®ð€ð£ð ððð£ðð ðð§ð€ðªð£ð ððð§ ððð£ððð§ ððªð© ðð«ðð§ð®ð©ððð£ð ðšððð©ð©ðð§ðð ð¬ððð£ ðð ð ðð¡ð¡ðð ððð§ ððð©ððð§ ðð£ð ð¢ððð ððð§ ð¢ðð§ð§ð® ððð¢.. ð¬ðð¡ð¡ ðšðð ððð«ð ðªð¥ ðð£ð ðšð©ðð® ððš ðððš ðð€ð¡ð¡ ð€ð§ ðšðð'ð¡ð¡ ðððð€ð¢ð ðððš ðŒð£ð£ðððð¡ð¡ð
"ðð³ð¢ð»ðº? ð¥ð¶ð¯ð¯ð°' 'ð£ð°ð¶ðµ ð€ð³ð¢ð»ðº, ð'ð¥ ðŽð¢ðº ðºð°ð¶'ð³ðŠ ð«ð¶ðŽðµ ð¢ ðµð¢ð¥ ð®ð°ð³ðŠ ðªð¯ðµðŠð³ðŠðŽðµðªð¯', ð¢ ððªð' ð¶ð¯ð±ð³ðŠð¥ðªð€ðµð¢ð£ððŠ." "ððŠðŽðªð¥ðŠðŽ, ðµð©ðŠ ð€ð³ð¢ð»ðªðŠðŽðµ ðžð°ð®ðŠð¯ ð¢ð³ðŠ ðµð©ðŠ ð±ð³ðŠðµðµðªðŠðŽðµ." "ðð¯ð¥ ðª'ð® ð«ð¶ðŽðµ ð¢ ð±ð°ð°ð³ ð£ð¢ðŽðµð¢ð³ð¥ ðµð©ð¢ðµ ðð°ð·ðŠðŽ ð±ð³ðŠðµðµðº ðµð©ðªð¯ðšðŽ." --- They would ooze rumours of both you're name, placed with the utterly specific adjectives, 'deranged', 'psychotic', and simply 'sick'. That was what you were known for, context or not. It was a simple way of living. Within the red-dirt town of Sandrange, with little entertainment and a harbour of saloon-goers in need of any form of amusement, this made you a target whether you liked it or not. Although, not unfamiliar with the wording, it's both the eyes of their burning scowls and the words that spit like fire from their tongue's that become something you can never get used to. So, you never left home. Cacooned in your home for weeks to months on end, all to hide from the town and the prejudice they willingly held, this torturous routine had only been broken by the two knocks on my door, and the call of the Sheriff requesting to come inside. ---
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