Bad News 

Last line tag 

@wyked-ao3

Thanks for the Tag! I haven’t gotten much writing done recently because of life but this was a little section from something my brain decided it felt like writing. 

The guardian stared at him with eyes that glowed like distant galaxies. 

-Sleep young warrior, sleep and let this poison pass from you-

The voice echoed through his mind and he felt at least somewhat relieved that he hadn’t broken down for no reason. 

No pressure Tags: @renasdoodles @kuebiko-writing @laisley-writes @leahnardo-da-veggie ,

@creatrackers @somethingclevermahogony +Open tag

Happy Birthday

Thanks for the prompt @flashfictionfridayofficial !

Couldn't resist writing a birthday song story with this prompt.

It's a little story from Hati's past. A very memorable birthday and very defining moment in his life.

Warnings: violence, tragedy, death, depictions of violence, trauma, survivors guilt.

He’d woken up from his nap to the sound of hushed excitement from the kitchen.

‘Mom?’

She’d turned to him bursting with excitement, presenting a cake just like the one he’d dreamed of, candles lit perfectly and everything.

‘I’m sorry if I woke you up, honey. I was just too excited to celebrate my little man’s birthday! I know it’s not the same with dad gone, but we can still have fun!’

She was sure they would, and that was enough for him. Would it taste as good as he’d dreamed? Haiti’s eyes sparkled in anticipation as his mother took a deep breath to sing.

“Happy Birthday to you…”

Within moments of the explosion, his mother stood over him. Her face was covered in blood, but her eyes were lucid, unlike the others. She could be saved? A smile flickered across her cracked lips as she knelt before him with a damaged paper package in her trembling hands.

‘I know we didn’t get to eat cake yet, but I wanted to give you your gift a bit early this year.’

He saw her smile and knew that he would make it through this somehow, his mother wouldn’t smile like that if there was no way out, he’d seen what it looked like when she gave up after all, and she was even taking the time to give him his birthday gift.

“Happy Birthday to you…”

’You got something extra special this year my sweet’

The forest green cap in her hands seemed to emirate a strange radiance that he couldn’t understand, but whatever it was, Hati was sure that it was special; no there was no doubt that this gift was extra special just like his mother had said.

‘As long as you wear it, the tech witches won’t ever be able to find you!’

She placed it firmly on his head and kissed his cheek warmly.

‘I love you Hati, never forget that.’

“Happy Birthday, my Baby…”

The sky burned as rays of weaponized light reigning down from above. Hati watched family and friends alike, burning under the scorching beams, but he stayed still as a statue, holding the cap to his head tightly. His face burned as tears rolled down his cheeks in silent lament. They never found him, like his mother had said, but he’d never stopped running just in case.

“Happy Birthday to you!”

Hati woke up in a panic while clutching the worn fabric of his cap until his fingers turned white and he couldn’t feel them anymore. Curling into a ball, he tried to make himself as small as he could. No one would find him then. His mothers voice still echoed through his ears as Hati cried himself to sleep like he’d done every year after escaping that hell.

Catching up Tag

Thanks for the tag @renasdoodles

Favorite Color- Blue, especially deep blue or sea blue.

Last Fun Activity- Brainstorming about the main original story I have been working on.

Song(s) Stuck in My Head- Happy Days (Turtles). I only knew one line from it and then stumbled on the full song by chance. It has been playing in my head almost nonstop since then.

Current Obsession - Attempting to write. (My success has been limited, but I'm at least getting something done.

Spicy/Sweet/Savory- Savory or spicy, depends on my mood at the time.

Last thing I Googled- What is a Rakshasa.

Something you are looking forward to- my six day break starting tomorrow. It will be nice to get some worry free writing done (but I know deep down most of that time will be me procrastinating).

Tagging: @kuebiko-writing @davycoquette +open tag

Who is the evilest character in your wip Bloodmage and why do you feel that way?

Ohh great question. Thanks for the ask.

I don't have a full name for him yet since I'm waffleling between a few of them at the moment, so as of now, I just call him the Major.

In his quest for power and an extended life, he had committed just about every war crime he could manage to in the ten years of the war before he found a way to turn himself into a vampire. Needless to say, he just got worse with the increase in power.

When his country started losing the war, the Major allied with the tech witches to try and mass produce bloodmages to send the world into chaos and take attention away from him so he could regroup his vampire army.

His ultimate goal is enslavement of the world, and he will search out any and every person who is even slightly aligned with his mindset to use them for his greater purpose.

He enjoys the challenge of breaking people and veiws mercy as weakness.

He might have been a monster in the beginning, but that is what fear and his twisted heart drove him to become one step at a time.

Thanks again for the ask! I haven't had a chance to talk about him yet.

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Write between 100-1000 words. It can be any genre, in any text format and 18+ is fine by us, just please tag accordingly.

Use this Friday’s theme in your text. Any way you see fit.

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[#FFF264 Counting Clocks ]

Why are there multiple clocks? Why are they being counted? Is time running out? Is it just a simple clock maker's daily task? Do the clocks bring distress or relief or something else? Get writing and let us know! Go, go, go!!!

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The Collective <3

Greatest Honor

Thanks for the prompt @flashfictionfridayofficial

Short and sweet, no warnings.

They smile and clap, faces made of dull plaster with hollowed eyes. It was a crowd so dense that individuality was completely lost. All he could do was stand there frozen in place, a smile etched across scarred skin. This was suffocating. Why did they have to drag him out for this clown show?

*Merow?*

Gwen hopped onto his lap and butted her forehead between Van’s eyes, snapping his attention from the monitor. Her whiskers twitched impatiently, while sausers of sparkling darkness stared into his soul begging for attention.

“Pft… Don’t you know not to mess with millitary men Gwen? Your reputation could be ruined.”

Van returned her greeting with a small bump of his forehead, instantly elicited an echoing rumble from her stomach. As Van drew away, Gwen tilted her head to the side, inviting scritches that he was powerless to deny. Van’s fingers ran through her fluff, ruffling the emaculately groomed coat completely out of sorts. Fawn wouldn’t be happy about it, but Gwen enjoyed the attention.

Van placed a kiss on her forhead and let out the breath he had been holding.

“What would I do without you baby?”

Satisfied with his company, Gwen settled on Van’s lap as he leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes for the first time in days.

Something Shiny

Thanks for the tag, @flashfictionfridayofficial

Warnings: mild body horror, altered mental states, mild nudity (nothing too explicit, but I figured I should mention it)

Wren watched in quiet longing as the carriage grew smaller in the half light until it was nothing but a dull glimmer in the distance. They’d rejected her again. She’d been so good too, doing all of the chores and following every rule down to the letter, but it wasn’t enough.

 Looking down at her ruined dress, it felt foolish to have hoped things would end differently this time. If she had just stayed quiet then perhaps her sister’s dress could have at least been spared, but this of all event had just been too tempting to not at least ask. Was it so bad for her to have fun sometimes? She had proven that she could behave, and it wasn’t like she wanted to see a stupid prince anyway. Watching the glittering stones dance across people’s throats was all the entertainment she’d need for at least three months, and maybe if she was lucky someone might lose a sliver that she could find, and add to her meager collection. 

Pulling out her string and needles, Wren picked up the nearest torn shirt and began to mend the shoulder. Her family wouldn’t be back until morning, so there wouldn’t be any music to spy tonight. As she tried to focus on the work in front of her, the silence grew to a suffocating pitch. Moonlight washed over her, bringing with it the glint of something shiny in the distance. 

A plume of feathers burst from her skin and colors began to shift as a thick film slid over her eyes. Her ears twitched as an obsession began brewing in her mind. Since her collection had been plundered months ago, the scraps she’d managed to gather were less than spectacular. She could finish up her mending, but working distracted was a fool's errand and it wasn’t like mother expected her to finish the work this evening. 

Pulling out some extra clothes that she had held back from the last batch of mending, Wren packed away the unfinished pieces before her wings burst through the torn back of her dress, scattering the old silk across the attic. Feathers ruffling in anticipation, Wren flung open the window. Gripping the frame, her fingers twisted into talons as she took in a deep breath free from restraint.

 Jumping from her window, Wren dropped down the side of the moat before allowing her wings to unfurl and lift her soaring into the air. Her flight feathers hadn’t completely recovered from the last pruning, but she’d been careful to avoid flying around her step sisters anymore, so they were starting to forget again. 

Wren let out shrieks of excitement as the world flew past her in a blur of dazzling color, lit by the moonlight overhead. Catching a draft of air, Wren rose higher into the air, allowing moonlight to bathe her before plunging down to land on her prize. Tackling the lone figure she pinned its limbs with her talons and plucked a pretty stone from its throat. Examining it closely she gave a trill of excitement before pulling away.

“Pretty! Can I trade you for it?”

Not one to completely forget her manors too easily, Wren pulled one of her finest feathers out, presenting it to the stranger who was now sitting on the ground, stunned. 

“Sure?”

Quickly gripping her prize, Wren handed over payment and perched on the edge of the water enamored by the strange stone she’d bartered for. It wasn’t that she was surprised by her triumph, her negotiations were impeccable. It was more that she had only parted with one of her shining feathers, when she had been prepared to go up to three. It made the trade even more thrilling. 

“Take good care of it, I spent many hours caring for that one, It’s good luck you know?”

Wren soon found that her upselling wasn't necessary, as her trade partner, a man in leather armor, seemed just as enamored with her feather as she was with her stone.  On closer inspection, he seemed to have some strange weapons at his side. Was he some type of hunter perhaps? 

Remembering her sister’s warnings of such folk, Wren remained calm, giving the man a friendly wave before taking off into the sky. She didn’t bother to look back, knowing that even if he could draw his bow in time, she’d be well out of range before he could notch an arrow. If he had tried to strike earlier, her talons would have made quick work of him, and then she could have her stone, feather, and a meal. While her mouth started to water at the thought of a snack, her step mother would definitely know she’d fed. Wren shuddered at the possibility of losing her flight feathers again and quickly returned as the moon was setting, determined that this little distraction wouldn’t upset things too much. 

will Alasdair ever get a spin off or his own story?

Thanks for the ask!

Alasdair falls into a category of characters that I really like, so probably... Eventually. I'll have to flesh out the world around him a bit more to get a better read on his environment and try to break past my procrastination to get at him first, though.

(Bonus since this probably won't come up anywhere else: Alasdair can no longer knit to pass the time while watching over the King's sleep)

reblog to send your mutuals a hug. maybe just the thought is enough to cheer them up 🥺

Recall

@flashfictionfridayofficial thanks for the prompt!

It's not my best, but I am tired and have done what editing I can.

While trying to come up with a suitable partner for the arsonists of my group, I realized that i had missed a golden opportunity and decided to capitalize on that.

Warnings for imprisonment, violence, starvation tactics, referenced abuse.

He didn’t have a proper name, at least as far as he knew. He was mostly referred to as it or thing since he’d been woken, but when the lights of the circus came on, he was Blaze the fire abomination, one of the wonders of the modern world. It took him many beatings and nights of starvation to associate with the name, but after a time he supposed it became what he was, without any memories of what he had been before, there was little choice for him.

Cold Iron poked at his side, disturbing him from his fledgling slumber. Looking up with bleary eyes at the cold disgust half heartedly focused on him did little to ignite the flame in his chest, but little by little as Blaze started breathing again he could feel the pumps in his chest turning up the heat until the metal encasing him glowed with an orange hue. Never enough to burn through the metal, they didn’t give him enough fuel for that, just enough to make a spectacle of himself.

His captor was saying something again in a frustrated tone, but Blaze wasn’t sure what he had done now, and he didn’t bother to try and understand their vulgar words anymore. When the door to his cage was indicated with another prod to his ribs, he moved towards the slowly opening gate. There was no point in rushing himself. They would just take that as an attempt to flee. As it stood, his supply of fuel was getting dangerously low, and if this persisted much longer, he wouldn’t make it through another winter. Everything was so cold already that he would be surprised if he made it to the end of the summer.

Sweat trickled down his captors face as Blaze stepped out of the metal cage, almost instantly setting the wooden boards of the stage ablaze. Grunts and exclamations of fear and confusion drove him back into the protection of his cage as he watched the fire being quickly extinguished and the boards being replaced by metal plating. It was all part of the routine. He just had to make it believable. So he mimicked the fear that they had trained him to exhibit and let out a roar of false defiance, causing members of the crowd to gasp in fear.

With a practiced motion, the end of his leash was quickly secured before his flames had a chance to properly ignite. The shackle on Blaze’s remaining arm had fused with his skin, making each tug the chain pull his wrist uncomfortably. He’d be paraded through the town again all the way to the circus grounds, and then he’d be put on display like every other town that he’d been to. To pass the time, he surveyed the crowd, making low grunts and growling sounds to elicit fear. His dull eyes flickered over the faces filled with fear and contempt until Blaze’s attention was suddenly drawn to a hooded figure exuding a strange smokey aura that stopped him dead in his tracks The sound of the busy street faded into dull echoes as the fire in his core began to roar louder than it had in years.

He took a step towards the hooded figure deftly pulling his chains along with him until he stood there instinctively straitening his twisted back until he was towering over them. At this, the figure leaned back its head, revealing a smile that made his roaring furness flicker with excitement.

‘you blaze like the sun’

A grumble of garbled words echoed from his soul as he tried to convey his admiration for this thing before him, but he’d been mute for so long he feared that the thing would fear him like all of the others. A burn scared hand shot out from under the robes, embracing his cold hands, sparking life into his withered bones.

“I accept.”

The figure let her cloak fall back to reveal a face twisted with scars, radiating a warmth that spread through him like a wild fire. The world was once more as it should be, burning in glorious flames. It was so simple, how could he have forgotten?

Introducing (drum roll) fire spirits (opposite of the forest guardians.