Poem Writing Challenge

Bad Deal

Fairies causing trouble doesn't always go in their favor.

Word count: 307

Warning: some violence, implied/ referenced child death

Thanks for the prompt @flashfictionfridayofficial

“I’ll count your late husband's debt fulfilled with this. Be grateful I don’t come for the next one.”

Leona stared down at the doll in her hand, remembering the bloated swamp fly’s words more clearly than the night they’d been spoken. In her travels, she had often wondered what possible reason that foul being could have had to rip her child away before she even had the chance to hold him. A part of her had hoped that the fay just craved connection to the world like she had. That might at least have made the loss more bearable. 

“DON’T KILL ME! IT WAS MY RIGHT TO TAKE HIM, THAT WAS THE DEAL.”

A gently thump emanated from the burlap bunny, and Leona knew that connection had been the furthest thing from this insect’s mind when robbing her of the last thing she could care for. It had been foolish to suspect anything else from them, but it wasn’t too late to learn from her mistakes. 

“No, you never had any claim to my son… Theo couldn’t have children.”

The insect’s face bunched up in rage, and it shook it small fist’s in the air while screeching. 

“I WAS TRICKED? MY PRIZE WAS JUST A FAKE!?! I DEMAND…”

Frowning in disgust, Leona pierced her bident through the frustrated fay. The heartbeat in her hand fluttered as the creature’s light faded, making her chest tighten. No magic in the world could bring back a body ten years gone.

She’d been too diplomatic, listening to the advice of those who feared the old magic. Gripping her weapon tightly, Leona swore to the boiling rage in her heart that she would not make the same mistake again. Valleys would be turned to rivers, filled with their putrid blood before they came to know the despair she would bring to them. 

Rose, after being cursed long ago, came to adapt to her unfortunate circumstances. While once completely wild, she has come to appreciate the finner things in life, mainly deserts.

I personally prefer her sketch design most, but the inked is a close second.

Heads Up, Seven Up

Share 7 lines from one of your WIPs

Thanks for the tag, @renasdoodles

I haven't reached the editing faze of my WIP yet, so you just get the unedited insanity that it is at the core.

Taking a deep breath, Owen released his hold. Maren had finally calmed down once he got her out of the water and rested.

Well calmed down in the fact that she was currently unconscious. He still had to go off into the woods to look for anything that could help fight the withdrawal symptoms.

This was fun. Thanks for the tag!

No pressure tagging: @kuebiko-writing @davycoquette +open tag

I'm always up for some motivation. If you are still taking "orders", I would love tea.🍵

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🧋 Boba

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.

Uninvited Pest

Thanks for the prompt @flashfictionfridayofficial

Description: A new father struggles with insomnia and is visited by an unwanted acquaintance. 

Warnings: Reference to violence

 “Hey Obi, you’re looking oddly cognitive today. Did the brat finally exhaust itself?”

Oberon reflexively raised a hand to protect Poppy from Solomon. 

“Quiet jester.” He hissed out the words in a hushed tone while the mischievous creature rocked his head back and forth quietly, having finally replaced those blasted bells he was so fond of. 

“Oh you don’t mean that Obi, I know you missed me.” Oberon tried to put some distance between them, but Solomon quickly closed the gap and pressed the back of his hand against Oberon’s burning throat. 

“Tsk… Tsk… I knew the misses was out of commission but how long have you been caring for her little hell spawn?” Uninterested in discussing his wife at the moment, Oberon bit back.

“Didn’t you get executed yesterday?” Solomon straitened suddenly and pulled back as though appearing to be offended. 

“And I thought you couldn’t make it to the event.” His smiling jester mask shifted to a frown and a blob of black ink ran from the corner of his eye. Oberon shook his head in disgust gently lifting Poppy from her sling and setting her down in a small crib with star drops dancing overhead. It took him a moment of effort, but before he’d even pulled away, Oberon had resigned himself to the trickster’s company, at least for the evening. 

“Next time they should dig a bit deeper.”

“They don’t have the patience for it, but by all means I commission you to persuade them.” Oberon rolled his eyes and grabbed one of Solomon’s tassels to drag him from the room. 

The Jester put up a mock struggle, pulling fruitlessly against Oberon’s light hold until they had made it to the wine cellar. 

“So what do you want Solomon? I doubt you came all this way for my company.” The frown disappeared from his face, replaced once more with his devious smile. 

“Nothing so grand as last time Obi, just the world?” Oberon almost dropped the bottle he’d pulled free of the dust covered shelf. Instead he flipped it in his hand and almost instinctively finished the executioners work. 

Writing share tag

Thanks for the tag, @aalinaaaaaa !

(I haven't been getting much original writing done lately for reasons... this is a small snippet of a story I come back to every so often whenever inspiration strikes)

Warnings for: mild self harm and withdrawal.

Withdrawal

Scraping his nails against the cobblestones, 408 looked down at the pouch around his neck. The blood in his veins was like fire, burning his reason and making his will falter. He just needed to hold out for another couple of hours, just until the sun set. Looking up at the blinding light, 408 cursed the spirits, longing for time to start moving again. Illusions flickered past his vision, and spikes of pain stabbed his heart with every half breath that he took. The last thing he wanted was to go mad, but he would tow that line as closely as he needed to if it meant that he could feel something again.

The pouch around his neck weighed like lead against his skin, silently offering a cool release from the pain. He’d told himself that he would wait until this evening, but the temptation seemed to double with every second that passed. His fingers began to reach for the bag without his mind’s permission. One of the pills was pressed to his lips by the time he realized what he was doing. 408 slammed his hands to the ground more forcefully than the last time, digging his fingers further into the stone until he drew blood. He’d set out to change his fate, and he wouldn’t accomplish anything by backing down now.

No pressure tagging @renasdoodles @kuebiko-writing @wyked-ao3 @creatrackers @somethingclevermahogony , @laisley-writes +Open Tag

Choices

@flashfictionfridayofficial prompt

Summary: Tori, a loyal soldier, has his alegences tested and finds that his loyalty to his country isn't as strong as he first believed.

Finally, a Tori Story. We're getting the perspective of another in the rag-tag squad of my WIP.

Chapter warning: referenced violence, violence, killing, referenced torture, and the picture at the end shows violence and injury.

Tori had been raised like all of the other able bodied children in his village to be loyal soldiers. He killed and maimed without regret, without hesitation because the people that he was sent after were the enemies, and if he wanted to keep himself and others safe, they needed to die. He wasn’t a sociopath, they’d tested him for that. Tori was just someone who had long ago reconciled that he could live with himself. He could wait for regret if he ever made it to retirement.

He had never questioned orders, been a faithful dog, and he had planned to remain like that until the evening when he received a new set of orders. This time, he wouldn’t be hunting down a traitor or ripping the life from a target. This time, he was capturing something. He’d never been ordered to capture something alive. He’d never had reason to.

The creature in question was suspected to be some type of extra-terrestrial, an invader to their planet. He didn’t need to question his orders, and he’d never had reason to up until he laid eyes on the creature. The moment it had looked up at him with eyes that seemed to contain galaxies, everything became complicated. Then it had saved him. That was the only reason they had managed to apprehend it, and now he was haunted by the low bellows of its pained cries.

The creature never spoke, but its voice rang through the minds of its captors. The other’s in charge of watching the creature found the sound to be soothing or funny, but he couldn’t help but feel a hollow pang in his guts as the underground facility was flooded with the creature’s cries for help.

He couldn’t understand what the sounds were at first, but the more time he spent focused on them, the more clearly he could hear it calling out for something, begging for its freedom. When they had found the creature it had been hiding among a pack of wolves, peacefully living out a life of serenity, and now it was being poked and prodded by the deft hands of his own people, all in the name of some strange advancement that made no sense to him no matter what argument they gave to convince him.

Tori was off duty when the storm struck, when the sirens blared so loud that he was woken from his drug induced sleep. A sharp pain throbbed behind his eyes as he slowly rose to his feet, mind instantly turning to the creature. Had it escaped? A part of him hoped that it had, but then a sickening feeling crossed through him as he thought of what means the other guards might use to contain the creature.

If it were in better shape, but the creature was kept on the brink of life and death to avoid such situations. Gripping his gun tightly, Tori rushed out of his room, an idea springing so suddenly into his mind that he wondered if it had been planted there.

He could get the creature out of here, he could rectify his mistake.

His heart tightened at the idea. If he had a chance to free it, then Tori already knew what he would do. He had been far too deeply influenced by its song and eaten by newfound guilt to choose any other option.

The sound of a struggling guard rang out from the main lab as he approached, and Tori hesitated before carefully peaking around the door frame. Two hulking figures near the shattered containment cell instantly turned towards him. An operation? No, they were wearing POW uniforms or what was left of them, not only that they were quite battered as well. So why were they here?

The female POW tightened her chokehold on a guard, and Tori watched as the man suddenly went limp. Raising his gun, he wasn’t so foolish to enter the room with the POW’s even if he was armed. Catching sight of the creature that he had been so concerned for held gently in the male POW’s arm, Tori felt his heart hitch. They had come to free it?

The sudden realization hit him like a bullet. They were here to do the job he hadn’t been able to. Even if he could have made it out with the creature, he couldn’t protect it after what he had done. Even with his mind made up, every ounce of his training fought against him as he lowered his gun and moved to the side.

“Go down this path, and you can reach an exit outside the camp.”

He wasn’t wearing his proper uniform at the moment, but they could likely tell what he was, so there was no reason for them to listen to his words, but he had to try.

The POW holding the creature over his shoulder straightened up and smiled broadly. It was a stupid grin that lacked the usual grit that he so often seen in the eyes of soldiers.

“You got it boss man.”

He winked suddenly, and Tori was so confused by the gesture that he barely noticed the woman glancing between them before a look of realization seemed to dawn on her.

“So no more killing?”

She seemed disappointed by that, but the male POW patted her shoulder gently.

“It’s okay Ember, boss man called the shot, you couldn’t have burned them with all this water anyway.”

It seemed to satisfy the woman who released her final victim and followed the man past Tori with a matching nod of recognition.

Standing for a moment in silence after they had left, Tori tried to make sense of what had just happened. Their behavior was far too strange, too irrational, but he supposed all that mattered was that the creature was safe. He would miss it’s presence, but if it would no longer have to cry in pain like that anymore, then He had done was required of him. As the song of its voice faded from his mind, Tori felt a sadness sink into his bones as he settled back onto his cot. He wouldn’t allow himself to be sad knowing that the creature’s cries had finally been quieted. With a strange peace that didn’t feel deserved, Tori fell back into a dreamless sleep for the first time since the cries had begun.

Last Line Tag

Thanks for the tag @kuebiko-writing

Sorry for the late response.

This is just a bit of my little bloodmage WIP giving a bit of perspective on Billy's motivations

Forest Guardian’s were, above all else, the protectors of nature and were often referred to as its shepherds. Long had they used their power and gile to protect their flock. That had been fine when the humans still held reverence for the sacred, but as that reverence faded, humans had changed. They become far too dangerous to rely on traditional methods. Defeat after defeat forced the shepherds to evolve, and Billy had been no different.

Handing his staff over to the strange human he watched as the living wood of his shepherds crook was twisted into a more fitting tool, no not just a tool, this thing was a weapon that he would use to sow vengeance.

No pressure tags: @kuebiko-writing @renasdoodles @davycoquette @flurrysahin ,

@literally-just-zay @creatrackers @somethingclevermahogony + open tag

(Let me know if you want to be taken off the tag list)

Thanks for the prompt @davycoquette !

I kinda already posted the Owen one before, but I drew a picture of Maren (with a new head) and liked how it looked when I combined them.

If anyone else wants to try the prompt, then have a go!