#prompt 21

[fair-fae]

FFxivWrite24 Entry #21: Shade

FFxivWrite2024 Prompt #21: Shade

Darkness. Darkness and hunger.

It was all she had known for so long that she had lost track of how long she had been trapped within the Void. Time had no meaning and no measure. Devour or be devoured was the only immutable law of the Thirteenth. Death was a fate she could accept–embrace, even–but to live on as a fragment trapped in another’s body as a conglomeration of forgotten souls was not. So the succubus disposed of the few Voidsent foolish enough to challenge her without prejudice, devouring their lives and growing more powerful with each one. So what if she lost a bit more of herself each time? What did it matter? Was that really such a bad thing? What use was sanity here? What good in being herself? At least it was a brief, hollow relief from the hunger. But the darkness, there was no relief from that. Not until, without warning, that fateful day came. Light, blinding and brilliant, burning and insufferable after so long in the pitch, a portal tearing itself through the blackness. Something unignorable called to her from beyond, beckoned and invited her to come through, tugged at her body and soul. Or maybe it was just the ravenous hunger within her, drawn to that world shining with aether on the other side, so instinctual it moved her body without her own volition. She couldn’t be certain. There was very little she could be certain of anymore. The only thing she did know–had decided–was that the portal was for her. Other creatures were drawn to the light like moths to a flame, starving and desperate, clambering for escape from their eternal Hell. But she fought them tooth and nail, and as always in the Void, the superior demon triumphed. She clawed her way out over their bodies, through the rift and into a dizzying, overstimulating world of light and life and sustenance. Where or when she was didn’t matter. No such thoughts occurred to her now. She only had one drive, one urge: Feed. Whoever had been foolish enough to open the Voidgate stood before her, brimming with aether like a beacon in the night. She pounced on him without hesitation and she was intent on making sure there would be no fighting back, her vicious claws swiping toward his face, rending flesh and leaving his visage a bloodied mess. The mage crumpled to the floor with her atop him, straddling him and siphoning the very lifeforce from his body to sate herself. So lost was she in the hedonistic decadence of a proper meal of aether at last, she was not prepared for what came next. But the mage, he had been prepared for her. He had managed to recover from his mauling just in time to spring his trap before his fate was sealed. She was so focused in her single-minded, feral pursuit of her prey that she had failed to notice the arcane circle and sigils carved into the floor beneath her. He triggered his spell, incorporeal bonds of aether winding around her limbs and ripping her off him, holding her in place. She struggled, thrashing and baring her sharp teeth like a wild animal, but she could not break free, and he wasn’t going to wait long enough to afford her the chance. He pushed himself to his feet, the lifeblood seeping from his face dripping to the floor and pooling into the ritual circle etched there, triggering the spell. The runes glowed to life with aether, and she instantly knew what was happening, but it was too late. The Voidsent was bound to her new master, their aether and destinies irrevocably interwoven. “You…” he began, voice dark and deep, one hand pressing to his wounds and covering half his face. “What is your name?” he commanded, and she was powerless to disobey.

@shadiyah-ffxiv @of-darkness-and-dreams

[kybercrystals94]

Self

Read here on Ao3!

Angstpril 2024 | Day 21 | Prompt 21: Faking a Smile

Rated: G | Words: 238 | Summary: Omega tries. | Character Focus: Omega

She is supposed to be happy. 

To be free, to be with her brothers again, to be home. She has Lula and Trooper. Her gunner’s mount room just as she left it before…all of it. Before they lost Tech, before they lost her. The Marauder hasn’t changed in her months away, not that she expected it to. It feels different. Empty and sad and lost. 

But she should be happy. 

Hunter and Wrecker want her to be happy. Desperately. They want their Omega back. So Omega tries to resurrect her, to stretch the mindset of her old self over the growth and pain and loss and grief and guilt…but it only tears and rips apart, jagged edges, a throbbing reminder that nothing will ever be the same again. She thinks that her brothers know that. That she can’t be the same. That they aren’t the same. That time and experiences have worn them all down to shadows of who they were before.  

But she wants to be happy. 

So she pulls on a new version of herself. It fits loosely, but she’ll grow into it. Happiness will come again when she has grieved. Guilt will ebb when she makes reparations. Grief will melt into the memories of happier times as they are remembered. Loss will become gains, and pain will be soothed. Because that is one thing Omega hasn’t lost, hasn’t given up, hasn’t forgotten. 

Hope. 

@the-little-moment @just-here-with-my-thoughts, only 9 days left?? I can't believe April is almost over! I'm excited to finish strong with my writing buddies!!

Tag List: @followthepurrgil @isthereanechoinhere96 @amorfista @mooncommlink @arctrooper69 @nagyanna424 @groguandthebadbatch @proteatook @merkitty49

✨Let me know if you'd like to be added to my tag list!✨

[siren-darkocean]

Flufftober 2024

Prompt 21 of 31

Prompt - Bonfires

Fandom - G1 Bionicle (Mata Kids AU)

Ships - Non, all platonic baby

Warnings - None

Rating - Teen & Up

Extra - Short, I actually posted this like minutes before midnight of October 31st and forgot to share it, some festival fun of Ta-Koro

It was the second of these festivals Tahu had witnessed and just like the first that celebrated Makuta’s defeat he loved it so much.

Tahu spun around in circles with Takua and Jaller, the Chronicler had his arm hooked with Tahu’s left while Jaller had his hooked-on Tahu’s right as the three spun in circles of a dance as they laughed happily while the Ikir fluttered around above them dancing in its flight to dance with the Ta-Matoran and Fire Toa.

Yes, the times of peace were strange to Tahu but he savored each moment especially after the Borahk incident in case there was ever a day he sadly lost one of his Matoran. And that as well gave him the strength and determination to keep fighting and pushing through in times of peril to prevent the loss of any of them.

Yes I forgot to share this on Tumblr of @flufftober prompts so sue me

I have not had the motivation to continue with prompt 22 which I was excited for as well due to RECENT events of America so yeah

[chocoblep]

#21: Soaking Up the Sun

Prompt: Shade

Hinan had never been particularly tall for an Au Ra man. If one wanted to get into it, Aeluan was his big brother in more ways than just age. But even accounting for has average height, many would have considered him large based on his bulk alone. He used this to his advantage whenever he could. In fights, he was prone to throwing his weight around to devastating effect. During conversations that required him to question others, he used it to intimidate, even if that only meant standing there and giving the person his resting expression (which had often been called “Murder Face”). 

But for all the personal advantages his broad stature afforded him, there had never been a greater one than when he used it in protection of others. He’d used his body as a literal shield, to protect others from projectiles and hide them from sight. He’d used it to make himself the bigger target, to draw attention away from his charges. He’d used his muscle to carry or toss other people to safety, to build shelters, and to help when muscle was required to push carts out of ruts or repair broken axles.

More recently, he’d discovered a new use for his sturdy form: To provide his partner with some much-needed reprieve from the sun. As he lay on his side on the large, flat rock that he preferred for sunning himself, he watched X’rhuk sleep peacefully beside him. It wasn’t that Rhuk was especially tired, but he tended to take little cat naps when he laid out in the sun with Hinan. Something about the warmth of the light on his skin and the relaxing nature of it all put him right to sleep. Hinan, on the other hand, typically turned like he was on a rotisserie, needing the sunlight to touch every part of him. Luckily, he never burned, but Rhuk very well could, so as the Miqo’te slept, Hinan kept him from soaking up too much sun, using himself as a shield.

At least Hinan could preserve the peace that Rhuk felt and let him get a little nap in before he inevitably snorted himself awake and chastised him for the amount of time they’d spent lounging around when they had work to do.  As he closed his eyes, pillowing his cheek on his forearm, he heard a tiny little snore and thought that maybe he could sneak in a little nap, too.

[midcinmancave]

Story Prompts:  "You always have a plan" "We've done worse"

Story Title:  Skirmish

Summary:The men of Stein defend their honor Complete Story Source on FB

Fictober24 Submission #06 Fandom:  Midnight Cinderella Featuring:  Albert Burckhardt, Nico Meier Warnings:  None  Rating/Genre:  General Audience Writer:  Albert Burckhardt, Nico Meier

[coughdontfeelwellcough]

Sicktember - 'But if you stay, you'll get sick too."

Fandom: my ocs Sophie and Casper.

Words: 2116

Author's notes: Final part of the trilogy with these two. I really enjoyed writting these characters so I think they'll make a return in the future. I hope you've enjoyed them :)

Part one, part two

Rain hammered against the window, a storm had been raging for hours but it wasn’t the sound of the wind howling that woke Capser. He rolled over in bed, coughing harshly. He’d gone to bed feeling a bit run down and tired only to be woken up with a cough and fever. He shivered, pulling his duvet up around his ears, his throat felt like he’d swallowed knives and he couldn’t breathe through his nose. He knew the flu had been doing the rounds and he’d meant to get his flu shot but Christmas was a busy time for the bookshop and he’d forgotten about it. Now he was regretting it, along with every decision he’d ever made that led him to this moment. 

“hh..HHh-HGHT-Hew… hh..HH…HHhh-HGHHST-Hhw…Ew…” Casper sneezed into his cover and sniffled thickly.

He thought about trying to go back to sleep but his body had other ideas, forcing him to sit up as he coughed productively into his sleeve. He groaned, his head felt like it weighed a thousand pounds and his joints ached like an old mans, still he forced himself out of bed. Pulling his blanket with him, Casper stumbled to the sofa in search of his phone and for the first time ever he called in sick. Mr Ludwig was a good boss and even asked if Casper needed anything before telling him to get some rest and they’d speak when he felt better. Casper then too tired to crawl back to bed, curled up on the sofa still coughing and tried to sleep.

Sophie opened Wildcraft as usual, serving her normal batch of early morning customers and noting Capser wasn’t among them. They’d grown a little closer since the laryngitis incident and Sophie found she looked forward to their daily conversations.  As the clock ticked on she started to feel anxious, Casper wasn’t normally one to be late and she kicked herself for never bothering to get his number.

She tried to continue as normal though when the clock struck eleven, a full two hours after The Nook would usually open its doors and no one appeared, she decided she couldn’t ignore it anymore. 

Sophie put the ‘back in ten minutes’ sign in the window and started the walk to Capser’s flat. There was a alleyway to the right of the chinese restaurant that led to a set of stairs and then a door, Sophie could only assume it was Casper’s. She knocked at the door and waited. A few minutes passed but no one came. 

“Casper? Casper, it’s Sophie,” she knocked again, a little louder. 

There was a shuffling behind the door before it opened a crack and Casper peaked out. Even through the gap she could see he was ill, he was pale, eyes glassy with fever and his nose and cheeks were flushed.

“Soph? What’re doi’g here?” His voice was so stuffy it was almost inaudible. 

“I came to check on you and Jesus, you sound awful.”

“Thigk it’s the flu..” he had to stop to cough productively into his arm, thick and chesty. 

“No kidding, can I get you anything?” she asked. 

“I… hhHHHHH-HTGHHT-HWW… HH..hhhHH-HGZZHT-HHWW..” He sneezed harshly and shivered miserably, clutching his blanket around his shoulders.

“What I am doing letting you stand here? Go sit down before you get any worse.” 

Casper considered her for a moment, debating whether to let the almost stranger in his flat before shrugging and shuffling back to the sofa. 

Sophie followed, closing the door behind them. Casper’s flat was small but inviting, it had a little kitchen diner with one chair at a table, a bigger living room with a large sofa and a hallway which no doubt led to the bathroom and bedroom. He collapsed onto the sofa with a stuffy groan, wrapping his blanket around himself. 

“Sorry about the mess,” he croaked. 

“No, no, don’t worry about it. I’m the way who invited myself over… Sorry about that, I just got worried when you didn’t show up for work.” 

“Called in sick, first time ever. Feel like ‘m dying.. hhHHhhH-HTGZH-TSHH… HTGZHH-TSGHH… uuHUH-TISSHHEW…” Casper sneezed wetly into his sleeve which triggered a coughing fit, forcing him to upright as harsh coughs tore through his chest. 

“Oh you poor thing,” Sophie sat beside him, patting his back as he struggled to calm his breathing. 

“Well, that hurt,” Casper rasped, pushing his sweaty hair out his face. He looked so pitiful that Sophie’s heart went out to him. 

“Can I get you anything? Tea, soup, medicine?” she asked. 

“I’ll be fine, don’t worry about me.” 

“Too late for that, I’m already worried about you. No offence Cas but you sound like death.” 

Casper raised a tiny smile and coughed lightly into his fist. “Some tea would be wonderful.” 

“Okay, just try not to die while I’m gone.” 

It took a few minutes to locate everything she needed in Casper’s kitchen but she managed to make the tea. She’d used the largest mug she could fit, it was shaped like a dinosaur with the words ‘Tea-Rex’ on the side. 

“You found my favourite cup,” Casper croaked as she passed it to him. 

“Well, it was definitely the best one in the cupboard.” 

“Thank you Sophie, for everything but if you stay, you’ll get sick.” 

“Don’t worry about that, I should be getting back to the bakery anyway. I just want to make sure you weren’t dying.” 

“Not dying, just sick.”

“Are you sure you don’t need anything else?” she asked. 

Casper shook his head, sniffling. “I think I just need to sleep it off.” 

After an extra five minutes they’d exchanged numbers and Sophie was on her way back to the bakery, a queue of people had assembled outside and she had to make some lie about needing more coffee. 

For the rest of the day Sophie couldn’t get the sick man out of her head, she tried texting him at lunch time to see if he was awake but got no reply. Hopefully that meant he was sleeping. Though when the time finally came to turn the sign to closed and lock the door she still hadn’t heard from Casper. She’d tried texting him a few more times but it all came to nothing, she even tried calling but it just went to voicemail. 

Now it felt like something was definitely wrong. When she’d left him he’d taken no medicine and god knows the last time he’d eaten. The anxiety washed over her and before she knew it Sophie was out the door and on her back to Casper’s. 

When Casper woke up he somehow felt worse. It was like all his symptoms had ganged up on him. He’d fallen asleep on the sofa not long after Sophie had left, hoping it would make him feel better. Seemed he’d been wrong. His head swam as he pushed himself up and coughed miserably into his fist. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so ill, probably when he’d had pneumonia in college and his mum had forced him to go anyway. He’d ended up spending nearly two weeks in the hospital. 

“hhHH-HTSHH-UHW… HHhhHSH-UGHHW…” Casper sneezed and reached for a box of tissues he could not remember buying. In fact his coffee table was filled with medicine that was definitely not there earlier. It was only after blowing his nose he realised that his kitchen light was on and despite the stuffiness in his ears he could hear singing. Casper dragged himself to his feet, pulling his blankets tightly around his shoulders and trudged toward the light. 

Sophie was standing in his kitchen, a pot on the stove boiling as she chopped up some veg. She hadn’t heard him approach and may not have done if he hadn’t started hacking up a lung. 

Sophie was at his side in a second, helping him over to a chair as he continued coughing, each one feeling like it was coming from the very bottom of his lungs. 

“Shh, just breathe. I’ve got you.” She fetched him a glass of water and patted his back until he was finally able to breathe though his chest felt like it was on fire. 

“Oh honey, you’re so sick aren’t you,” Sophie stroked the sweaty hair from his forehead, feeling his fever. 

“No offence but what are you doing here?” he asked, trying not to lean into her cool touch. 

“Sorry, sorry I keep barging in like this. It’s just I texted you to check you were okay and when you didn’t reply I came over. I knocked but the door was unlocked, you must have forgotten to lock it after I left and you just looked so miserable I thought I’d get you some things. I hope that’s okay..” 

She was rambling but Casper found himself smiling. “So you broke into my flat to make me soup and give me medicine?” 

“Hey, it’s not breaking in if the doors are unlocked!” 

Casper chuckled, coughing lightly into his fist. “Thank you Sophie, this is all very kind of you. No one’s ever bothered to take care of me like this before.” 

“What, never? Not even like your mum?” 

Casper shook his head and sneezed miserably into his elbow. “hhHHISH-THEWW… hhUUHHS-GSHTTW…” 

“Bless you,” Sophie passed him a pack of tissues and he blew his nose though he did little to clear his congestion. 

“And no, my mum sucks. She made me go to school even when I had pneumonia, she only relented when I passed out and ended up in the hospital.” 

“Jesus Casper, that’s terrible. I’m glad I’m not the only one in the mum sucks club though,” 

“Oh, you too?” 

Sophie nodded, turning the soup off before it boiled over everywhere. “Mine fucked off when I was four, turns out raising a kid was putting a damper on her partying.” 

“Oh shit..” Casper cleared his throat, coughing a little. “Sorry Soph,”

“It’s okay, it was a long time ago. Now how about I get you some soup? I bet you haven’t eaten today.” 

It turned out that as well as being a great baker Sophie was also an excellent cook. The chicken noodle soup was delicious, it helped clear his sinuses and sooth his raw throat.  

“That was so good, I can’t thank you enough,” Casper said, running a hand over his nose. The heat from the soup had made his nose run. 

“You’re welcome. How are you feeling now? Because you’re still looking very pale and clammy.”

“Okay, but kinda hot and sweaty,” he replied. 

“Is it okay if I take your temperature?” she asked. 

Casper nodded, coughing into his elbow. He expected her to get a thermometer but instead he felt her cool hand on his forehead again then his neck and finally his cheek. It took all his strength not to lean into her. 

“You’re still burning up, let’s get back to the sofa and some medicine in you.” 

Casper let himself be guided back to the sofa, curling up in his pile of blankets as Sophie poured him doses from various bottles. 

“Sophie, can I ask you a question?” Casper asked as she passed him a cup of medicine. She had one for everything, his cough, his fever and even one to help him sleep. 

“Sure.”

“Why are you being so nice to me? You barely know me.” 

Sophie sighed, sitting down beside him. “Maybe because in the last two years I look forward to seeing you every day, you’re one of the few people in my life that seems to care about me and isn’t just making small talk waiting for their next train. Because maybe I want to be your friend or maybe more than that? I guess I want to figure that out, if you do.” 

Casper’s heart was in his throat, it felt everything in his life had led up to his moment and he was too sick to properly enjoy it. 

“Sophie, you’ve been the best part of my day for two whole years and… hhHH-SGXHT-uhh.. hi..hii-HITX… Ew sorry, I just mean it would be an honour to be your friend or maybe something more.” 

Sophie leant over and kissed the top of his head, bringing him in for a hug. “I might like you and all but if you give me this flu I will kill you.” 

“It would have been worth it.” 

Sophie laughed and kissed his forehead, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist. It certainly the meet-cute that either of them had imagined and it wouldn’t be the story they’d tell their grandchildren, if they ever got that far but it was the start of something, maybe, hopefully. 

[perfectpaperbluebirds]

Sicktember #21

Prompt: “But if you stay, you’ll get sick too.”

Fandom/OCs: The Black Tapes Podcast (Alex and Richard)

Words: 1590

Sicknario inspo: "Keep your distance, I've caught a cold" from this post, "No, you're not" from this post, “We need to do something about that fever” from this post, and "a bad cold" from this post

Author’s comments/background: Not much to say on this one, except that I love pieces in which I can incorporate several “sicknarios” into one. If you don’t know the characters, you can check out my other stuff where I give more description. It’s a fandom that not many other people here like, but that I love, and writing these nerds is always a treat. I hope to write something else for them over this holidays as well, so you’ll probably see them again soon. 

~~~***~~~

"Keep your distance. I've caught a cold." 

Richard Strand frowned as he read the text from Alex, frozen in a moment of indecision, as he'd been just about to head to her house to pick her up for work. He thought for several moments about how he should respond.

"Do you need anything?" he asked at last. 

There was a long delay before she responded: "I hate to ask, but… could you bring me some NyQuil and some orange juice? I know I just said keep your distance, but no one else is available. I'm sorry to ask."

"It's no trouble. I'll be there soon," he quickly replied. 

It took only minutes to stop at the store, so he was pulling into Alex's apartment complex in no time. He parked and made his way to her door with her supplies in hand. He cleared his throat before he knocked, feeling strangely nervous. When she answered, Richard tried not to show his surprise at her appearance. He had never seen her so disheveled. Even through all the early mornings and late nights they'd spent together, Alex had always seemed so put-together. The woman before him now, dressed in a fuzzy robe and slippers, looked anything but. She looked exhausted and miserable and shaky… and sick. She smiled at him as soon as she opened the door, though, looking more like her usual self right away.

"Richard, I can't thank you enough for doing this. You're a lifesaver." She held out her hand for the shopping bag. 

"Like I said, it was no trouble. Are you sure you have everything else you need?" He handed over the bag almost reluctantly. 

Alex braced herself against the doorway and Richard saw her legs trembling, though whether from cold or weakness it was hard to say. "I think so," she replied. "You don't need much when you just sleep all day, and that's exactly what I plan to do." Her voice, what was left of it, petered out into a hoarse coughing fit that she muffled into her elbow. The coughing left her eyes and nose streaming, so she then had to tidy herself up with a tissue, the friction heightening the blush around her nose, which was only matched by her flushed cheeks. 

Richard watched all of this with mounting concern. "Do you have anyone coming to help you?" he asked. "You seem very sick."

Alex shook her head and tried to wave away his concern, but the gesture was lost as she instead had to press the tissue to her nose to catch a pair of sneezes this time. 

"I'mb fide," she croaked when she was able. Blowing her nose, she tried again. "I don't think there's much anyone can do, you know? These things just have to run their course."

Richard frowned. "You shouldn't be alone like this, though. What if something happens to you?"

Alex shrugged. "I've been taking care of myself for a long time. I'm used to it. I don't want anyone to have to worry about me."

"Then I'll stay with you," Richard said. “I can work from here just as well as anywhere else. You and I will both rest easier if you're not alone."

"That's not–"

"You're shaking so hard you're about to fall over. Let's go inside, please. I've kept you talking for too long."

In a smooth motion, Dr. Strand reclaimed the shopping bag from her and took her arm, gently leading her to the couch where it was obvious she'd been lying before he arrived. She tried to protest again as Richard began to make himself at home.

"I'm fine, really. I'm not–"

"No, you're not fine, Alex." He paused, forcing her to meet his eyes. "I've seen you work through half a dozen illnesses since we started working together, and you've never missed a day. So if you're saying you're sick, that means you must be feeling awful. You're not fine, so let me help you. Please."

Alex made an exasperated sound. "That's beside the point. You don't need to stay. I don't–"

She was interrupted by her phone ringing. Both of their heads snapped to the coffee table where it was lying. Alex groaned when she saw the name on the caller ID.

"Ugh, Brittany. That's a student that wanted to shadow me this week. I forgot to call her to cancel for today. She'll talk my ear off if I answer, and probably try to show up here anyway just like you did."

"Let me handle this," Richard said, looking almost mischievous. He picked up her phone. "Dr. Strand speaking," he said in his most formal tone. The moment of shocked silence that followed told Alex he had had exactly the effect he'd hoped. Then Brittany began to chatter, but Richard cut her off before she could really get going.

"Yes. Thank you. Perhaps another time. No, Alex won't be available today. She's–" 

A well-timed sneezing fit burst out of Alex just then, and Strand angled the phone so the caller could hear it. "Sorry. As you can hear, she's caught a bad cold."

Brittany tried to start up again, but Strand wouldn't let her. "I'll tell her that. Thank you. Sorry for the inconvenience. Take care now." He hung up with a decisive gesture, then gave Alex a smirk. 

Alex rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. "Don't act so smug. I could've done that too. But thank you. I appreciate your help I guess. Not that I had much choice in accepting it."

Richard chuckled. "You're welcome. You see, I can make myself useful in the most unexpected ways. You'll be glad I'm staying."

"But I don't want you to stay, though," she groaned. "If you stay, you'll get sick too, don't you get it? And then where will we be with both of us out of commission?"

"I've considered the possibility. It really wouldn't be that serious. IF it even happens. We've spent plenty of time together and have never gotten each other sick before."

"Neither of us have been sick like this, though," Alex groaned, then coughed, Richard thought, for emphasis. "But I can see your mind is made up. I hope you don't regret this."

"Whatever happens, I will never regret helping you," Richard said seriously. "That much I can assure you. Now, would you like some juice? Or is there anything else I can get you?"

"Yes please to the juice, and then NyQuil." She had to stop to cough before she continued. The cough sounded very weary and all the more harsh because of it. "I haven't slept in two days because of all of this, and I really want to be knocked out for a few hours."

"Your sleep patterns will be ruined if you do that."

"I'm beyond caring. I just want to sleep."

With a shrug, Richard complied. 

Alex got her wish, and with some help from the good drugs she was asleep in no time. Richard, meanwhile, tried to get some work done. However, his attention never strayed far from Alex, and since she was restless, he got little work done. Every time she moved, his eyes flew to her. She had yet to stop shivering since he'd arrived, as if ice had settled into her bones, so he wasn't surprised when she startled awake less than an hour after she fell asleep. She looked even worse than she had when she laid down, disoriented and not-quite lucid. She groaned as if in pain when she tried to sit up, and groaning naturally made her cough as well. 

"What hurts?" Dr. Strand murmured, already at her side.

"Everything," she moaned. "Like someone took a hammer to me."

He made a concerned sound as he pressed a broad palm to her face. "We need to do something about that fever. It's not coming down."

"What fever? I dunno what you're talking about, I'm the picture of health," Alex mumbled. 

The attempt at sarcasm made her companion smile a tiny smile. "Whatever you say. More drugs couldn't hurt, though. Sit up and take this, please. And this too. Let me get you more juice."

Alex obediently swallowed the medication he handed her, and even took the high road by refraining from pointing out that he always said medications that only treat symptoms are as good as worthless. She didn't have the energy for an argument, and she would try anything that might help her feel less awful. 

Even after Strand wrapped another blanket around her, she continued to shiver, which seemed to make her cough. He bit the inside of his cheek, thinking. 

"Sit up for a second, please," he said.

Alex groaned, having just laid back down, but sluggishly complied. Richard sat down where her head had been, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her close against him, making sure she was warmly covered. 

"Sleep against me," he said. "You'll be warmer and hopefully cough less."

It was a testament to how poorly she was feeling that she didn't argue, just simply let her weight collapse against him as her heavy eyes fell closed. 

"Thank you," she breathed, nestling closer against his chest. 

"You don't have to thank me. Just get well soon, please," he murmured in reply. 

Alex had no reply to that, because she was already fast asleep.

[promptsbytaurie]

prompt #21: with a twist!

Write a spooky story, with a twist: it's the humans that are the scary monsters to supernatural beings like ghosts and zombies. What about humans makes them so scary?

[tricksterfiction]

Prompt #21 Grave

"Listen up you small, ignorant larvae." A stern acolyte began, eyes piercing even under a hood. The dunesfolk held up a finger waggling it.

A young Sen Urabe, not yet seen her seventeenth name day stood in a line with four other young initiate thaumaturges. They were outside of Camp Drybone. A pile of shovels and plain pine boxes sat next to Sopu Nupu, standing beside him was the steely midlander in a leather jerkin, arms folded, sword in it's scabbard. Sen had been doubly ignored by her, all clumsy attempts at flirting were buffeted.

They were all dressed in their darkest robes, hoods up. Equipped with their handcrafted staves made of bone and jewels, among the most abundant materials in Thanalan. Their lessons were in full swing guided by the guild masters as per tradition, however a conjurer's arrival and acceptance into their ranks was not only strange but begged another layer of peer review.

What good would it be to waste their time teaching a snooty, high brow Gridanian their secrets only for her to turn tail at the first trials of death? It wouldn't matter how close her mentor was to one of the guild masters, favours only got one so far!

Unfortunately they couldn't very well single her out, they pulled in the other initiates.

One of the initiates bravely spoke up, a seeker tail sweeping behind him, he cut him off. "Acolyte Sopu Nupu, uh ser-"

"Silence!" Sopu's voice cracked like a whip. The initiate wilted like a frost bitten flower.

"Tonight we do not test your aetheric aptitude, we know you can all take. Taking is easy." Sopu paced in front of them, "We test your will! We are sires to death, psychopomps, honourable ferrymen..." He looked from one Initiate to the next having their full attention save for the raen who was busy making eyes at Sopu's escort, the lalafell stopped. His eye twitched, waiting for her to feel his eyes on her. When she finally looked down, she was startled to find Sopu's attention squarely on her. He jumped up to snatch at her collar, dragging her to the pile of shovels.

"Hey! Take it easy-"

He continued as if he hadn't missed a beat, "The short time we are blessed in this cycle we must first understand what it means to be partial to death ourselves. And so, tonight my dear larvae your first step into true transformation will be by spending tonight six fulms underground in a grave of your own making."

The others gasped. Sen rolled her eyes.

---

The raen dug her grave, tossing the dirt over her shoulder. The others were a little slower, hesitant, one was quietly crying into the dusty piles at their feet.

Sopu was a hardass but reliable, the guild masters leaned on the older more experienced acolytes to guide the initiates in between tasks. Help the budding thaumaturges understand the culture of the guild, their beliefs, history outside of lessons. They were fairly friendly despite the truly macabre and complex subject matter they delved into.

Frankly, at first she had trouble understanding why she was there in the first place. Who cares if she learned to start a fire or throw some ice? She saw death all the time in the Twelveswood, new growth sprouted from felled trees, fungi networked alongside strong old roots. Understanding the cycle of life was basic. But slowly, over the few weeks she had been there, she started to take an active interest in the history, the mechanics of pulling the star's aetheric energy into oneself, listening to the passages from the Yawning Abyss. She was fascinated, to understand in depth what the other side of the coin was truly like.

Sen worked an equal amount of time appeasing the Elementals with prayer and tending to botanical projects where she could. The cleansing rituals were endless and would be for the foreseeable summer.

Sopu watched Sen carefully for any cheating earth moving. She felt his irritation coming off in waves at her apparent lack of fear. There were other things far worse to fear than a quiet night underground.

What he didn't realize was this wasn't Sen's first initiation ritual.

"You should inspire the other initiates, Acolyte Nupu." Sen began her back turned to him, having dug a couple fulms and finally looking up to the dunesfolk. "I am sure they need the reassurance of your presence more than I."

"How are you so eager to sleep in the dirt tonight? Does your faith truly steel your heart so?" He sneered, "Will you still cling so dearly to your precious Elementals whence the first bell passes?"

She shrugged, "Sure."

He squinted suspiciously at her.

"I sincerely doubt your false bravado, Initiate Urabe. I see straight through your act, and you do not know the true power of your own fear and mind until the moment you are left entirely at it's mercy." Sopu pointed accusingly at her, "Tonight will prove what a waste of time it has been to teach you anything."

Sarcastically she held her hand over her heart, pouting out her lower lip, "Tell me how you really feel. May I speak plainly?"

"No." He huffed then waved his escort over, "Miss Kemp watch her closely, I am going to inspect the other's work thus far."

Sen brightened with a big smile at Rosie Kemp's statuesque gaze, she grunted at the raen, "Well, back to work."

Giving Kemp a lazy two finger salute at her brow, "Yes ma'am."

---

Tucked into her pine box, firmly buried underground. A small hollow metal cylinder, the coffin straw as she affectionately named it before told to shut up. It was inserted for an intake of fresh air especially after one of the initiates nearly passed out. It was far more kind than what the conjurers would have considered for accommodation.

She had snuck a length of string to fidget with while she was left alone with her thoughts. She started by going over her lessons from the day, veering to wistful imagining of one Rosie Kemp and her unrequited crush, but inevitably as the bells passed she stumbled into thinking of her real initiation.

She had been locked in a notoriously haunted mausoleum overnight. Unlike how Sopu and Rosie were standing watch over their graves for the night, the older conjurers left her completely alone, unaware of just how much the Elementals had been riled up prior. They were forced to contend with angry spirits preying on vulnerable budding minds - so she had been told.

Kids had a real capacity for cruelty.

The memories were hazy, her stomach churned with discomfort, she tugged at her collar, palms slick with clamminess. Her heartbeat spiked with flutters approaching panic.

She pivoted hard, doubling efforts into prayer instead. There was nothing to be afraid of. It was quiet, naught a whisper to be heard. She wasn't in the Twelveswood. Her faith would see her through.

It had to.

---

The night had passed far faster when Sen finally fell asleep, and the only one to be found peacefully asleep once she was unearthed.

Hair matted at the back of her head, blinking blearily at the dawn light. Rosie had helped Sen stand, looking her up and down approvingly.

"Impressed, Miss Kemp?" She nearly yawned.

"Yes, actually." She laughed mostly at herself, surprised to find that was the truth.

Sopu was quietly impressed too but he choose not to show it, kicking at the ashes of their campfire. The other initiates welcomed her with cheer, there was a budding camaraderie in their shared night of terror. Some shared their prayers to the Twelve, others held on reassured with the true darkness for the first time, it was ultimately evocative. They were inspired.

Sen grinned big, the box of memories still nailed shut like the coffin lid was.

[the-wardens-torch]

FFXIVwrite2021 - Grave

FFXIVwrite2023 - Prompt #21, entry #10

((Continuation of Off the Hook, Once Bitten, Clear, and Jerk in a VERY rare - at least for me - contiguous and continuous story.))

"And perhaps… if you learned more about it, you would cease to be so ill at ease with it."

His father was completely and utterly right. He'd also been considerate, of all things. The consideration part may well have been accidental, but perhaps it was worth giving him credit for. Fal rested his head on his hand, continuing to watch the dust motes drift through the weak shaft of sunlight coming in through the dirty window.

When he'd first seen his father stalking around at that party in Idyllshire, he'd been reminded of a hungering wolf. Not in the volatile, aggressive sense, but in the sense of a proud creature made desperate by circumstance. Right now he was only visible in shadowed silhouette, standing just on the opposite side of the patch of sunlight. He held a single book with his head bowed in contemplation.

"Since you are not the studious type, I suggest that if you wish to learn more about Bahamut… You should visit his grave." he said, silhouette not budging an ilm.

"His grave? But how could he have a…"

Fal went silent for a second as the answer dawned on him.

"You… mean Carteneau, don't you?"

If the great wyrm had met his end there and dissipated into aether there, it was as good as a grave. He put his hand over his mouth and stared down at the table before him. Uther had started talking again, but Fal's mind was far, far away. In the eyes of the great dragon as he had seen them that night in his dream.

The Coffin card and The Lily card.

Those two cards had stood out in Reo's reading for him after his harrowing dream. A symbol of death, and a symbol of respectful mourning that often went hand in hand - both things placed in graves. He couldn't recall everything she had said in her very sage interpretation, and there had certainly been more nuance to it, but she had also told him to trust his own interpretations of the symbols. His father has even used the word "grave," despite his aversion to descriptions that were more poetic than literal.

Stepping back into the light, Uther crossed his arms huffily and looked down at Fal, His dark green eyes seemed to glow balefully, as if he was aware Fal hadn't been listening.

"…Anyroad… The Carteneau plains were once a sort of no man's land, and many nations sought control over it. But to my knowledge, ever since the Omega Weapon was awakened and extracted from the Carteneau plains, there has been very little further political strife regarding the area. Its surfeit of aether is powerful, but renders the land utterly inhospitable. It might not be difficult for you to go there."

((can't keep writing, gotta play BG3 before bed because I didn't want to wait until after FFXIVwrite to start it. Oops.))

[fluentfridays]

Prompt #21

Which character’s fandom reputation is completely off-base?

[hetakinkmeme]

Dragon Riders with Bonded dragons, CanAme (Matt tops)

Been reading 4th Wing (who hasn't), but this is similar to what I've read in other series too, like Pern.

So, the dragons chose their Rider. IE. It's completely up to the dragon. And the riders will often be affected/influenced by their dragons thought/feelings. So if a dragon is mated, their rider is probably going to be strongly pulled to the other dragon's rider.

Alfred was super excited to be chosen. Matthew was more nervous. Neither twin expected to be chosen by a MATED pair of dragons.

Feel free to have fun otherwise. 4th for instance they develop signets/powers. Or like, one is a dragon shifter instead of both riders? Or like Pern, the Dragons are not initially mated but do after the boys are bonded? Maybe the boys fight it? Maybe they secretly wanted each other and are relieved? Please have fun with it!

Um, for this one I really want CanAme dragon Riders. BUT I could see someone liking this plot bunny for like RusAme or something. Which is cool and feel free as your own thing, but for the actual filling of this prompt, Matt and Al please!

.

[chocoblep]

#21: A Favorite Spot

He remembered her smiles the clearest. The way her plush lips would part just enough to afford a peek at her teeth, the faint laugh lines that deepened with her happiness, the way her nose scrunched… they were like balms to his melancholy at the time. M'rath couldn't help but return any smile that Eden had given him. He remembered summer nights beneath the stars, as the mercenary company he'd run with camped for one reason or another. He'd needed to get away from the stifling pressure of wealth, and so he'd taken a season off every turn from his early adulthood well into his late twenties to travel and work with honest folk. It was how he had met several of the people he now regarded as his friends. Illian had retired from mercenary life the last time Rath had traveled with the company, and he'd offered him the job he now held. He'd seen many from the company since, and Eden had been a frequent visitor to his estate in the turns since.

The last time he'd seen her, though, she had gone off to an active war zone after entrusting him with her baby–a meticulously maintained bonsai tree. She had not returned after five turns, and when the fighting where she’d been had quieted down and he’d been able to make inquiries, he’d learned that she had breathed her last on that battlefield.

There was no memorial for her and her fellow soldiers, so he’d given her a quiet one in her favorite place near his home: The top of a waterfall, where she often went cliff diving and teased him for not being courageous enough to do it himself. That memory alone brought a smile to the Miqo’te’s face, and he would sit by the little headstone and stare into the pool below for an hour or so, simply remembering.

This time, as he sat with his legs crosswise on the grass, he did not stare over the edge of the cliff at the pool below, but faced the headstone instead. He’d brought the bonsai tree with him, settling it in front of the stone.

“As you can see, your child is doing well,” he’d said, and given the stone a thin-lipped smile. “I look after it myself. I don’t let anyone else but Illian touch it, and only when I am gone and cannot tend it myself. You were right. It is relaxing to learn, train, and tend this tree. In a sennight or so, there will be blossoms on this little one’s boughs. I cannot remember how many there were when it was yours, but they seem to increase in number by one or two each turn. I just figured that you might want to spend a little time with it today. It’s such a nice morning.”

Eventually he moved, planting his back to the headstone and peering over the edge. “I’m sure you’re happy to know I’m still not man enough to jump off a cliff,” he said by way of keeping the conversation going. He could imagine her laughing at that, and as he watched the water for signs of life, he perked his ears to listen. Sometimes he saw fish breach the surface, and once he’d been here at the same time as a family of Elezen who swam about in the pool below, splashing and laughing and generally having a great time. This early in the morning, with the sun’s rays just barely dappling through the trees, there was no one there, but the sound of the roaring water was comforting nonetheless.

He stayed there until the sun was nearly at its peak, updating Eden’s spirit on the more recent things that had happened to him–his dalliances with semi-regular lovers, the confusion in his mind over what he felt for them, Illian’s constant prodding for him to get out of the estate more when he wasn’t working. When he stood to retrieve the bonsai trees and say his goodbye, he paused. There, nestled in the lower boughs of the tiny tree, was a miniscule blossom. The first shy blossom of spring, facing him like he was the first rays of the sun. He smiled warmly at that.

“Thank you, Eden. I miss you, too.”

[evviejo]

repeat after me:

tumblr is the reblog website

tumblr is the reblog website

tumblr is the reblog website

tumblr is the reblog website

tumblr is the reblog website

tumblr is the reblog website

tumblr is the reblog website

tumblr is the reblog website

tumblr is the reblog website

tumblr is the reblog website

this is not instagram or whatever other like-based social medium, likes don't matter that much, your experience is not shaped by an all-knowing algorithm, but by you and reblogging is the lifeblood of this godforsaken corner of the internet

if you love tumblr and if you want to show your appreciation for the creators of the content here, you reblog

[thestorygenerater]

Dc x Dp prompt

Phantom has been apart of the justice league since its beginning. The young man was powerful and had no recorded history of hero work despite them being an experienced hero (when mentioned about that, Phantom muttered something under his breath about “Desire”?)

But after an incident involving a shapeshifter and a power damper, everything The Justice League knew about Phantom was put into question as he turns into a young teenager. It’s like another Billy Batson situation but instead of physical turning into an adult, they only shape shift into one.

Meanwhile for phantom, he is doing FANTASTIC. He’s phantom form hasn’t aged in 7 years and it wasn’t like ghosts age to differently by human standards, by all accounts Danny is a fully adult ghost. He can’t change his form permanently without ether first losing his obsession or damaging his core so he does the next best thing, learn how to shape shift.

He can’t do much, only bump up his ghost appearance to match his human one, but it was more than enough… until the Justice League found out about the shapeshifting and won’t listen when he says he really is an adult

[keysandcrosses]

drawtober day 21-31