#FlashFicFeb

[domes]

part, 05

Prompt: "I warn you, if you bore me, I shall take my revenge."

FUCK FUCK NEED HELP IT WARM PUT IN PACK WITH US HELP WARM SAVE BRING BABY I WILL TAKE THE REST YOUR FINGER

[flaetsbnort]

All right, this picture is a lie. I'm not, in fact, writing 28 stories this month, mostly because I don't feel like it. But I feel like writing flash fiction again, I feel like starting to write in English in earnest, so I'll likely do at least a few of these prompts.

[cobbledcrossroadtavern]

Flash Fic Feb, Day 2

Day 2, written on Day 3

Prompt: "I sit beside the fire and think/of people long ago/and people that will see a world/that I will never know."

He looked across the table from the empty chair. To the place his wife had sat for the last seven years. To the place where someone else would be coming home.

He hadn't slept after their conversation last night. He didn't know how to feel. He was pretty sure that was normal. His wife didn't know how she felt, either, for the last seven years, and who knows how long before that.

Would his wife still be his wife when they came home? What would they be instead? A husband? Did he have a husband now? He wasn't sure he was ready for that. His spouse? He said it a few times, out loud, in the empty room, to see how it tasted. He could fit the word out of his mouth, at least. Well, another conversation he and they would have to have, he supposed.

Unless they didn't want to be his spouse anymore, either. Or unless he didn't want to be theirs. Then they'd never have to talk about it again.

He married a woman because he loved her. He wondered if she'd married him because it was the next thing to do. If she'd believed she was who she'd shown him to be. Or if it was another way of masking, of fitting in, of trying to get along while she figured out she wasn't "she" at all. That must have been hard for them.

[anhultwildlands]

…Etched into the leg of the prep table in the kitchen was the most beautiful symbol. It wouldn't peel off. It couldn't be copied. However, the saw could go through the wood above and below the rune.

Reflecting on that moment that might have been the straw that broke the camel's back. Mom always said not to be so impulsive. You would think offering to replace the table would have been enough...

Read more at https://www.worldanvil.com/w/anhult/a/person-followed-by-an-invisible-thing (flash fiction - 5 minute read) written for The Storytelling Collective's Flash Fiction February challenge, edited for #tuesdayfiction

Photo from iStockPhoto.com by YuriSH

[islanderscaper]

You can follow along with my #flashficfeb journey by supporting me on @kofi_button https://www.instagram.com/p/CoQxMN9MVjL/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[entwifeexperience]

Storytelling Collective Flash Fiction February

Giving the Storytelling Collective Flash Fiction February course a go, which feels so very odd, both for not having written fiction outside of TTRPGs in years & because I've wanted to do something with them for the longest time, having been a huge fan of its inception as the RPG Writers Workshop and doing reviews for the phenemonal adventures that came from the courses.

The first prompt is "Return of Spirit", which I accidentally wrote down and worked off of 'Return of the Spirit'.

The writing is likely rough and the metaphor is probably not subtle in the least, but hey I'm writing something that's not TTRPG related for the first time in many years.

CW: Metaphor/ Personification of Dysphoria

Link to document

He was there, again.

Just sitting on the couch like he owned the place.

She didn’t know where he came from or what he wanted from her. He would always be gone once she emerged from hiding.

He slowly turned towards where she stood frozen in the doorway, cocking his head and raising those bristle brush eyebrows.

She couldn’t meet his dark eyes, reflecting the light from the TV screen. She’d seen them before, disturbing in their familiarity. Like he knew her intimately, could see inside her. There was accusation and ridicule in the way he stared, but behind the eyes a contemptible pity that made her feel physically sick.

The insidious feeling he elicited was a full-body sensation. Her arms pricked with gooseflesh, hairs on end. Her stomach felt hollow and gnawing. She felt oversized and heavy, a giant lashed to the earth by a thousand unspoken denigrations. She was a rotten tooth in the mouth of the giant, swollen with an all consuming pain that numbs the brain and pollutes the body. She was a cavity and he was filling her with sickening sweetness.

She wanted to hurt him. She wanted scream.

He just watched.

A slight smile split his hideous face.

She wanted to peel the flesh from their bones.

She retreated, him slowly following. He remained at the bottom of the steps as she scrambled up the stairs, glaring up at her.

She scrabbled across the landing in hands and knees, slamming the bedroom door shut with her body.

With trembling fingers, she put the headphones on. The sudden, deafening music blasted everything away.

She slid to the floor and, suspended in sound, waited for him to hide.

[bestwestallenfics]

MY TOP 10 ALL TIME FAVOURITE WESTALLEN FANFICS

I'm a sucker for a hurt/comfort or any type of angst scenario. These are generally all in the cw universe ( I don't really like AU's )

1- The Present by trufflemores

4.15. "Barry clutches Iris not because he wishes to protect her – although he does, and always will – but because he needs her."

2- Bang,Bang by keep-swinging

The feeling of the bullet never leaves. Barry's overwhelmed mind can't take it anymore. Iris is there to give him the comfort he needs about the future, and about everything else.

3-Healing by fallingleaves

They still don't have speedster painkillers, and Iris has watched Barry go through a lot of pain.

4-Zero by trufflemores

4.15. Based on the "Enter Flashtime" trailer.

The newest meta detonates a bomb. There is no time left to stop it. Barry finds Iris.

5- I Don't Mind by spacemonkey766

"I will love you anyway with all your demons in the way. Nothing can keep us apart. I walk through walls into your heart, I don't mind."

Barry Allen had seen more darkness than most people would in a lifetime, and with each wave that threatens to drown him, each fire that threatens to burn him, and each broken heart, Iris West has been there to help him through with nothing more than her love and understanding. He struggled, and she didn't mind being there. By his side was where she belonged.

6-Partners by trufflemores

3.15 AU where Barry and Iris don't break off the engagement. Barry has a rough night after Savitar. Cue Westallen snuggles.

7- Sense is Senseless within the Grapevine of Sorrow by turntochapter13

Barry isn't exactly right in the head after he watched Wally get taken into the speed force by Savitar.

8-Talk Me Down by spacemonkey766

He'd been here before. He'd seen that tornado of lightning, been awoken by that sound, lived this nightmare. But even the nightmares we face still can reoccur, can be even worse than before. But sometimes, all we need is someone to get us through that long night.

8- Ut Pereat Unum Amavit Unus by turntochapter13

He felt numb. His fingers tingled—thousands of imaginary needles poking at his pale skin over and over and over again. He wasn't sure if it would ever end. God, he just wanted it to end. He wanted everything to just freaking end! What was the point of it anymore—the point of everything—because his everything was stripped from him—first his mom and now… 

(8.5- Show me a hero and I'll write you a tragedy by wolfypuppypiles

Barry stayed in that living room for an hour before the others found him. He held his father’s body in his arms and let his tears drop onto the blood soaked shirt.) -it's the same scene with small differences so its added as a bonus :)

9- Safe and Sound by spacemonkey766

She’d made a promise to her team, to help and guide them by taking the lead from their home base. She’d also made a promise to Barry, to love and protect him always. What Iris had never expected was for those two promises to clash, had never expected to make the choice that could risk losing him all over again. [missing scene from 4x09 - Don't Run]

(9.5-Safe Space by trufflemores

4.09. After getting the stuffing knocked out of him, Barry returns to STAR Labs, and falls into Iris' arms.)-it's the same scene with small differences so its added as a bonus :)

10-Causal Nexus by KitCat992

Wally learns the hard way that good intentions don't off set the consequence of time travel. When he accidentally travels back in time, Team Flash have to race against the clock to keep Barry alive, unaware that Wally's actions have already set off a chain of events that can't be stopped. Shameless Barry whump.

[haru-desune]

Storyteller | Day 2 - Time

Once upon a time, in a kingdom far away there lived a milkmaid more beautiful than any princess. So splendid was she, that a mere glimpse of her blonde hair and cornflower blue eyes could capture the hearts of stablehands and princes alike. But she would not deign to give her hand to any suitor.

("Why not?" "Hush now. That is not part of the tale.")

As with all beautiful women in stories that take place a long time ago, our milkmaid had a stepmother. She was as vain as her ward was fair and as wicked as she was vain. One day, her jealousy became too much to bear, and she sent the milkmaid into the deep dark forest, head filled with stories of a secret garden that mortals rarely ever see.

("Of course she did. Why is it always the forest?" "Because that's how all good stories start.")

The maid was neither strong nor brave, but she was curious. She entered the forest willingly, and in tales like these, that matters. It was a stifling place, the air thick with the scent of rotting leaf litter and animal musk. Twigs cracked under her feet, and the gleaming eyes of wolves dogged her every step. It was almost a relief when she came across the hut, with its thatched roof and stone chimney valiantly puffing away, its neat little garden a jarring break from the twisted trees of the forest. She could smell soup in the air. She entered that place willingly too.

("You know, I think I've heard this story before." "Be silent and eat your soup dear”)

The witch didn't look like a witch. She was a matronly figure with kind eyes and rosy cheeks. But there was a sharpness to her, and a deftness to the way she moved. The girl was pleased to rest her weary feet to notice, and as she warmed herself by the fire, she told the witch of her quest. The witch smiled slyly and offered herself as a guide, but only after a spot of dinner.

(“I think it’s time I leave.” “Oh, but I haven’t finished yet.")

As they sat around the dinner table, the witch began to speak. She told the maid a story. An old tale, but a simple one. A familiar one. About a beautiful woman lured in by beautiful things. A woman who paid dearly for her curiosity. And as she spoke, she watched a look of horror dawn on the girl's face. Rather like the expression you're wearing now my dear. Now, now. Don't try to run, it's far too late for that. You came here willingly, after all, and there's really only one way out. Oh, it will be so good to finally leave this place! No need to worry my dear, you have all the time in the world to craft a story of your own. Make it a good one.

[queenkarmi]

Feb 23: Travel

He’s ridden the ferry from Junon to Costa del Sol more times than he can count, but his motion sickness never gets any better.

Gods, how annoying.

He tries to focus on the kids running around the deck playing. It is Marlene’s turn to chase Denzel in their game of tag and she is currently trying to run him down near the bow of the ship.

“Be careful!”

Tifa stands next to him near the railing. A sudden gust of wind whips her hair around her, and she yelps in surprise, trying her best to pull it together and get it under control. He chuckles, grateful for such an adorable distraction, but then grabs the rail in support as his head swims.

“Cloud?”

She’s standing much closer suddenly, her ruby eyes filled with concern. Cloud nods, straightening up and reaching out to her. Tifa smiles and faces the sea while he wraps his left arm around her waist and holds onto the rail with his right.

“Are you okay?” she asks over her shoulder.

Cloud nuzzles his nose into her hair and plants a chaste kiss on her neck. He inhales her scent – a faintly sweet smell mixing with the salty air – and sighs.

“This is helping.”

She giggles and looks toward the bow again, watching the kids.

“They’re fine,” he whispers.

“I know, I just… want to make sure.”

He nods against her shoulder and looks out at the water. The sun’s rays are warm on his skin, and he’s grateful for the white shirt Tifa suggested he wear with his jeans. She’d donned a green sundress in preparation for the heat, but he can still see prickles of sweat beginning to dot her neck.

“Want me to let you go?”

She shakes her head. “No, no.” She lines her arm up with his across her stomach and plays with the ring on his fourth finger. “This is fine. It’s nice.” Tifa tilts her head back and he kisses her softly.

A shriek of laughter jostles her away and she looks behind them. Marlene is pointing over the railing on the other side.

“It’s Costa!”

She and Denzel are nearly bouncing out of their shoes. Cloud knows they can’t wait to get off of this boat and play at the beach. His mind starts to wander to Tifa in the new bathing suit she’d bought for their vacation…

“Hey!”

He blinks and looks down at her. Her brow is furrowed, but her eyes show amusement.

“Save your dirty thoughts for tonight, okay?”

He laughs and holds her tighter, giving her a peck on her cheek. She always knows what he was thinking these days. No one knows him better, after all.

Marlene tugs on his sleeve.

“Daddy’s meeting us there, right?”

He nods. “Right.” He ruffles the girl's hair as she stands next to Tifa. Denzel is on their other side with a wide grin on his face.

Cloud isn't sure how many times he'd ridden this ferry in order to make his deliveries. His nausea makes an appearance every single trip - but at least this time, he has his family to hang on to.

[domes]

part, 18

Prompt: "Let folly be our cloak, a veil before the eyes of the Enemy."

They are so unimaginably over matched, but to the last one they are all willing to die trying to prove this obvious fact wrong.

[alswrites]

FlashFicFeb - The Battle Mage's Proposal

Note: This is my second entry for #FlashFicFeb. The prompt for today is time. There story mainly helps with world building and introduces two characters, both of whom are based on NPCs I'm currently running in my friend's D&D campaign.

Roland approached the cave, his nose twitching at the odor of whiskey as he stared at the fire in the distance. The young battle mage closed his eyes, attempting to quell his nerves as he smoothed the folds of his jerkin and drew his curved sword before moving toward the flames. The blade emitted a faint green glow, alerting him of the presence of a fellow servant of the Fey. “She is here,” he whispered.

The cave’s narrow path led him to the bonfire and the tall woman sitting in a shining coat of chain mail. She turned to him, her blue eyes glancing at the blade and the broken bottle in the corner. 

Roland gestured to the bottle. “Fonna, I was going to ask for a sip.” 

“I used the rum to light the fire,” the woman said in a soft voice, inching to the right, her breastplate squeaking as she moved some dirt. “Gnomish whiskey is expensive, but it makes a good flame.” 

Roland nodded as he sat next to her. “It does, though it may attract unwanted guests.”

Fonna reached for her glaive. “Yes, strange men seem to be wandering into my cave. What brings here, Roland?”

He smiled and drew a small bag from his pocket. “I think you know why I am here. It has been a year.” 

Fonna nodded. “It has, and you still want to marry me?”

Roland pulled a jade necklace from his bag. “More than anything.” 

Fonna paused, staring at the necklace. “A lot has changed in a year. I am not the same person you knew … I am clean.” 

Roland nodded and pulled up his sleeves, exposing his forearms. Fonna traced her finger along the faint scars on his skin. “I have become better.” 

“And my demands?” she asked. “I told you before, I do not want to just settle and become a housewife. I want to explore and find adventure. I want to redeem myself before I settle with a family.”

“I will not make you confine you to a house. We can live from inn to inn, cave to cave. I only want to be with you and help you find your redemption.” 

Fonna took the necklace from Roland. “It is settled.” He nodded as her head rested on his shoulder. 

“‘The Berzerker and the Battle Mage.’” Fonna said. “It would make a good song.” 

“Yes, or a good book,” Roland added. 

“Yes, with many adventures.”  

[cobbledcrossroadtavern]

Flash Fic Feb, Day 1

Written on Day 2, Posted on Day 3.

Day 1 Prompt: "Still round the corner there may wait / A new road or secret gate."

It was much too busy for this time of year. For this time of night, come to that. June 23rd? It felt like December 23rd. Jerry was in a foul mood, Ever since the sun had gone down, some weirdos had come out of the woodwork. One guy had painted himself blue and only spoke to the cashier in cooing noises.Another person wanted to pay for a sizeable book purchase, including at least one extremely rare volume, with a gold coin. Coins weren’t Jerry’s specialty, but if the piece the customer put on the counter was genuine, it would be worth 4 grand, easy. But Jerry had no way of knowing whether it was genuine or not, so he refused. And on and on like that.

So when Karla’s voice came over the ludspeaker, saying “Manager to the fantasy section, please,” Jerry thought, “What is it now?” He made his way through the throng of people to the back of the store. Karla was just staring at the wall that divided the bookstore proper from the receiving and storage bay. To Jerry’s irritation, Stan was back there, too. Just staring. “Stan, if you’re here, who’s minding the espresso machine?”

Stan looked over his shoulder, looking at the line of apparently endlessly patient line of customers. “This is more important, I think,” Stan said in his slow way. Jerry never knew if it was thoughtfulness or stupidity, but the man knew how to make a cappuccino.

Karla said, “We need you to settle something for us. That door…has it always been there?”

Jerry blinked. “What?”

Karla pointed. “That door. Right there. Have we always had a door there?”

“Of course we have. That goes to Receiving. You’ve both been through there a thousand times. We don’t have time for—“

“No, not the receiving door. The receiving door is beige. I mean the one sort of next to Receiving. The gray primer-colored one.”

Jerry squinted and winced through a flash headache. Then he realized which door Karla and Stan were talking about, and his irritation grew. “Of course it’s always been there. It’s a door. They don’t just grow out of walls.”

“I remember…” Stan paused. “I remember the door being there forever. But I don’t remember…remembering that…yesterday.” He shook his head and went back to making coffee.

Karla said, “If it’s always been there, what’s behind it? Stan and I have been arguing about it.”

“It’s a storage closet. That’s where we keep the…” Jerry trailed off. This was ridiculous. This was his store. 10 years he’d been doing this. He knew what was behind this door. That headache just made him forget for a second.

A man, very tall and very very thin, rested a gentle hand on Jerry’s shoulder. “Excuse me. Do you have any Tennyson? A hilarious man. I’m quite overdue for a re-read.”

Karla shook her head, like she was trying to clear it, and said, “Of course. Come this way.”

Jerry stared at the door for a moment longer. Then another customer required his attention, and it slipped his mind. After all, it had always been there.

The rest of the evening was insanely busy. The cashiers kept asking Jerry to approve transactions in unusual currencies, things no policy could cover. He found himself saying yes to as many as he could, and he found himself glad for doing so. Some were straight book swaps. He was surprised by the titles people were willing to part with. Apparently he traded a pretty good edition of Butler’s Parable of the Sower for “one perfect song in perpetuity,” whatever that meant. He just knew he wanted to go to karaoke later.

The bookstore normally closed at 10 on weekends, but closing seemed unthinkable. Until midnight the customers kept them all busy with strange requests. He thought he heard one customer in the café ask for a cup of tears. When Stan replied that he didn’t have any, the customer happily ordered an oat milk latte instead.

Then, the lines grew shorter. Fewer and fewer people required Jerry’s attention. Then the last customer left with their purchase (an adult coloring book and seven copies of the same edition of War and Peace—Jerry hadn’t even known they had that many. He hadn’t sold that many copies of that book in the whole time he’d had the bookstore).

And the place was empty.

Jerry, Karla, and Stan cleaned up, exhausted. There was something slightly different about all of them, in ways Jerry couldn’t explain and would soon forget to notice. As they did a final walkthrough of the book floor, something caught Jerry’s attention, something about the back wall, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. “Hey, Karla?” he called. “Do you member why you called me back here earlier?”

Karla joined him and took a long look at the back wall. “Didn’t I need you to get something from Receiving?”

Jerry hesitated. “Yes, that must be it.” He looked at the beige door. Something was bothering him about it still.

As they all left the store together, Jerry said, “Hey, I know it was a long night, but is anybody interested in karaoke? I have a song I want to try out.”

To his surprise, they all agreed.

[anhultwildlands]

Flash Fiction February is here!

The stories are flowing, read the first one "Return of Spirit" on World Anvil. Follow me on World Anvil to get alerts when each is finished! This effort is part of the Storytelling Collective's Flash Fiction February challenge.

[islanderscaper]

It’s #FlashFicFeb and I’ll be participating in @storytellingcoll annual challenge again! #wipwednesday #flashfiction #writing #writersofinstagram https://www.instagram.com/p/CoH9s58LLmQ/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=