#Micro Story Prompt

[inafieldofdaisies]

And "don’t leave" for Oliver and Oakley from the one word prompts, if you want as well?

"Oaks?", Oliver called out as soon as he pushed the heavy door to her hideaway open, his voice echoed down the dimly lit hallway and was met by silence. "You're not in a horror movie. Though, she might want to kill you for intruding.", he muttered under his breath while advancing forward, set on fulfilling his promise to her grandmother and checking up in Oakley no matter how annoyed she might get. "You again.", was the first thing to greet him as he entered her surveillance room, finding her lounging in front of the roll of monitors that displayed feeds from around Moore's large property. "Me again.", Oliver parrotted back, gaze zeroing on a photograph in her hands that held her attention more than the screens she would usually watch. Silence engulfed both of them before she twisted to look at him and sighed, "You can tell her I'm doing just fine and be on your way." "Are you truly fine, though?", with that, he moved towards her instead of retreating as instructed, something about the expression she wore pulled him in, and he couldn't shake the feeling leaving would be a huge mistake His hands grasped the back of her chair, and he took his first peek at the grainy picture over her shoulder. A young couple beamed at the camera, a little girl with pale blonde hair squished between them and wearing just as big of a smile.

"They seem happy.", he whispered past the lump in his throat, wishing he could see her face once more. Her thumb ran circles over the photograph, "Don't they?" "Nana was hoping you would come up. She made dinner." "I can't." "If it's because of me… I can go, Moore.", a part of him dreaded dragging himself back to the motel when a warm meal was set up for him above ground, but making that sacrifice seemed better than her sitting all alone. "Don't leave.", his eyebrows rose in surprise as she rushed to add, "Nana would think I chased you off." He nodded, "So if it's not me…" "It's the night, and me. I wish I could remember them.", her tone was stoic, but the way she gripped the picture had him rounding the chair and crouching down until her could grasp her hands, "Silly, I know. Won't do me any good. But it's like I'm looking at two strangers and I feel so much, yet nothing at all." "You were young. Too young. You shouldn't-" Her eyes lifted to his for a brief second, "I've stared at this picture so much over the years, I have their features memorized. Their voices, though… how we were as a family, I can't remember any of it, Oliver." "Nana has albums. She's taken them out, too.", he retorted quietly, hope taking flight in his chest at the fact she held his stare instead of focusing on the image again and zoning out. "So you can laugh at my baby pictures?", her lips quirked up slightly. "I doubt they'd be worse than mine, love.", a dramatic shudder passed over her at the petname, "My ma was super into costumes, still pulls out my baby albums any chance she gets." "Were you as annoying?", Oakley asked as he pried the picture out of her hold, and pulled her to her feet, not wasting any time in case she changes her mind with how stubborn of a person she was. "I'm told I was such a good baby, excuse me very much." Keep her distracted, McKenzie. She rolled her eyes but let him lead her out of the room, "Mhm. I totally believe that." "Truly. With the occasional hiccup here and there." "I knew it. And what were the costumes, do tell?" He squeezed her hand as he picked up his pace once they hit the stairway leading up and out of the stuffy bunker, "I will tell you all about them after dinner. I've been eyeing the pie Betty made the whole evening, Oaks. I'd probably dream of it." "Hungrier than a bear. It's why she loves you so much." The cool night air bit through his thin shirt, and he followed the lights from the house in the distance with newfound determination, still not believing he had managed to get that far, "I have a feeling she'd love me even more now." "Probably serve you half that pie." "From your mouth to God's ears."

[perfectlysunny02]

number 49 for the micro story prompts please ❤️ with bucktommy of course

"It's nightfall," Buck says, snuggling deeper into Tommy's side in the cab of his truck. "Maybe we can see some stars."

"Hmm," Tommy mumbles sleepily, rubbing his hand up and down Buck's back. It's a cool night, and Tommy's fairly comfortable against the random blanket he threw back here, and his boyfriend's warmth. "Maybe. Point out where they would be if we could see them."

And as Buck points out Orion and Sagittarius, Tommy's head drops on top of his gently, and snores soon following.

[arendaes]

same ghosts in a new home

I've been trying to find some writing prompts to turn to when I want to write but don't know what, and when these prompts passed by my dash earlier I knew I found the list to pull from. I used a random number generator to pick which prompt to write. Up first we have:

same ghosts in a new home (961 words)

Fandom: Pathfinder Wrath of the Righteous

Rating: T for implied sexual activity (nothing graphic)

Ship: The Commander/Daeran/Woljif

Other notes: Second Person POV

In some of the books you’d read in the past, you’d run into descriptions of the lingering effects of an argument. You’d always dismissed them as poetic hogwash. But now, as you stand in the middle of the sitting room of our new home, you could swear there was an echo, the last vestiges of heated words and raised voices falling back through time to haunt you. 

Truthfully, you're not sure what you said to set Woljif off, or why I was upset with your refusal to apologize. We knew what you were like by now, and you thought you were being nice. Though, if you're being honest with yourself, you know how your words can land more like poisoned barbs than playful jabs. This fight might not be entirely your fault, but you're not completely innocent in it either. 

With a sigh, you turn towards the liquor cabinet, situated right next to the stairway you once sat in waiting for us to join you in. You remember the soft words and the heated embraces, reminders that your melancholy was as ephemeral as it was unfounded. Even now, the memory brings a small smile to your lips. “You will never pale into insignificance.” “You're stuck with us, Your Excellency.” 

To the hells with it. Abandoning your original trajectory, you turn towards the door. Judging by the light filtering in through the window, you have a couple hours yet before the sun goes down. Perhaps you have a plan, perhaps you just want some fresh air. Either way, you’re out of the house before you even realize it. 

****

Now, as for you, Woljif, you had stormed out of the house into the backyard. It was still mostly an overgrown ruin, a choking tangle of weeds and debris that I intend to one day transform into a garden bursting with life. The only thing of note was the small part of the Sellen River that flowed through it, a sliver of pure, bubbling water that you once spent an evening frolicking in with Daeran and I. The memories are pleasant, and the guilt that pervades you at their arrival is entirely unwelcome. 

With an aggravated sigh, you pull one of your daggers out of its holster. Even now it’s a habit to make sure you’re armed. Maybe there will come a day when you don’t feel the need, and when it comes, that’s how you’ll know you’ve truly lost your edge. With a frown, you toss the knife at a nearby stump. It sticks with a loud thud, not unlike the sound the door made when you slammed it come out here. 

Your edge…that’s what this about. Just two years ago you were still running with the Family and scrabbling to get by day to day. Now, here you are, married to two of the most prestigious people in the country and the beginnings of a home to call your own. This is something you should be happy about, and you are! But there is a part of you that feels like you’re betraying everything you’d ever known, stabbing the boy you once were in the back for the first shred of kindness and love that had been shown to you. 

You pull the dagger free, all the anger in your veins dying as the blade comes loose from the wood. Daeran didn’t mean anything by it, but the quip had been phrased just right, careless in the way only someone who’d never faced such hardship could be. Now you know that the wounds of your past still stung.

Taking a deep breath, you flop onto the stump, staring out into the sunlit water. Just a few more minutes, then you’ll be ready to go back inside. Whether it’ll be to make amends or fan the flames again, you’re not sure. But judging by the loose grip you have on your dagger, you are so much more tired of holding grudges than you realized. 

****

At least, I want to believe these are the thoughts that ran through both of your heads. Earlier, when Daeran’s comment landed poorly and led to the most explosive fight I’d seen you two have since the Crusade, I’d felt perfectly useless. All of us still carry the ghosts of our past, and we’d spent so long trying to bury mine that I’d forgotten that you two still had yours to deal with. Words cannot describe how inadequate I felt as a partner in that moment.

Now, the three of us are lying on the floor of the living room, my shortcomings only still plaguing my own mind. You two had made up hours ago, and we carried on our evening in the way newlyweds are wont to do. But as you two drifted off to sleep, I found myself lying awake, haunted by my own, brand new ghost - the one borne of fear that one day I’d lose both of you. I’d been so wrapped up in the tangible ways that could happen, I didn’t realize all the other ways it could happen. 

The two of you lie on either side of me, your hands clasped below my breasts as your breathing evens out. The floor is far from comfortable, and the throw pillows from the couch aren’t much better, but just being here with you two…it doesn’t make it more comfortable, but there’s no other place I’d rather be. The crackling fire wants to lull me to sleep, and I know I should rouse you two before morning comes and the housemaid finds the three of us lying here naked. But for the moment, I am just savoring this moment, and thinking of ways we can help our ghosts to play nicely together in our new home.

[verfound]

Micro story 32! Dust motes

The limit was 3-10 sentences right 😂

Early morning sun filtered through the uncovered windows, giving the familiar room an almost orange glow. Marinette had never seen it look so...empty before. Her clothes, her supplies, her furniture...it was all gone, packed away and waiting to head towards her new home. Instead of mischievous little kwamis, dust motes danced in the light.

An arm dropped across her shoulders, tugging her against his side as Luka bent to drop a kiss on the top of her head.

"Ready for our next big adventure?" he asked, his voice quiet but still so loud in the too-empty space. She turned, tipping her head up to catch his mouth. His hand came up to hold her chin, his thumb brushing absently against her jaw.

"So ready," she said with a smile as she pulled away. His eyes were dancing, but she was pretty sure hers were, too. "Let's go."

[miitgaanar]

Requested by @sycamorre!! Sorry to answer this prompt with something that will make no sense at all to you lmao

Send me a number and I’ll write a micro story using the word or phrase

This is actually @duperderedere's fault. Since she basically dared me to write something like this. This is based on this ask here, and is entirely just me trying to shake this brain worm out of my skull. I don't promise any grand literature here.

And also this is an excuse to fill another micro-story prompt that has been festering in my inbox lmao

21. collapse

The blackness was eternal. All consuming. Suffocating. His lungs burned for air, but the muscles lay paralyzed within his chest. Raw gasps that brought no relief. Drowning without end, death's grasping claws forever out of reach. Ssael, he thought. A single spark of lucidity in the sprawling dark. A desperate cry into the abyss. Where is He?

--------------------- "What have you done to me?" The voice was entirely unfamiliar, a growling rasp that grated like nails upon slate—though it was his words that were carried into the dense quiet, his thoughts given life on the tongue of a slavering beast. A deep anger bloomed within Lemuel Adelier; an anger fueled by despair. "I see you've yet to retain a single thought set before you, Captain," the Black Tongue sighed. "How tragic." "The khert," Lemuel moaned, a pathetic sound even to his own ears. The chains that bound him rattled with his every movement. "You said—you said I would fall into the khert. That I could find God." "He's a fickle little whore, isn't he?" The Black Tongue did not look up from his desk, his back to Lemuel. "Perhaps the price paid wasn't quite enough to garner his interest." “You—”  A drawn out rasp. The sound of whetstone upon blunted blade. “Prokul Ilganyag.  Diwf.  Difhut—!” “Yes, yes.” The Black Tongue did not so much as spare him a glance. Lemuel’s jaw ached with the desire to rip the man’s pale throat open with his teeth.  “A colorful repertoire of damnation spills forth from your lips with little hesitation.  How tiresome this dance becomes after the first few waltzes.  The hazards of involving a soldier in the loftier pursuits of a scholar.” “The khert calls to me,” Lemuel said, the words a hoarse whisper, leaping forth unbidden.  “I feel it pulling—tearing, ripping, clawing.  God calls me to his side and you keep me here.” “Feel free to heed his call.  I’d gladly relinquish you to his embrace if it would grant me an hour of peace.  Do ask if he has any First Materials he can spare.” “RELEASE ME!” Lemuel roared, springing to his feet.  The chains grew taut as he strained against them.  They groaned in protest, though held fast, the manacles digging into pallid flesh that could no longer feel pain.  How Lemuel yearned for pain.  For anything that could ground him, that could distract from the gnawing hunger in his gut.  “I need to find Him!  He needs to answer for—for…” A sob built up within his chest, though it was a pressure for which he could find no relief.  Tears sat curdled behind his eyes, and each gasping breath did little to palliate the grief and anguish that so filled his very soul. Damned, he thought.  I am damned.  The khert remained beyond his reach, and Ssael safely ensconced within.  Laughing.  Jeering.  All because the little Soud had dared to seek a mightier purpose than the one his caste had dictated. Lemuel collapsed, his knees hitting the floor with a loud thud that seemed to echo through the small space.  Were it not for the barest hint of a jolt through his death-ravaged body, he would not have even noticed. Damned, he thought again.  The Black Tongue finally deigned to turn toward him, a sneer pulling at his pale lips.  His black gaze cold and remorseless.  I am damned.

[loverofwhump216]

Characters: Merlin, Arthur, Gaius, Gwaine, Morgana, Mithian

Summary: Merlin ends up revealing his magic in an effort to stop Morgana from killing him in Another's Sorrow. Arthur ends up seeing this and has to figure out what this means for the future of Camelot and his friendship. Merlin!Whump. Mentions of Merthian

[favoriteblogonthecitadel]

1 and/or 3 for the micro story post!

Not gonna lie, the combination of “1. Don’t go” and “3. I trusted you” feels like a direct attack on my Horizon feelings and I am here for it.

The words are in her throat. Or at least, she thinks they are. Xiomara doesn’t know her own body these days, its pieces jagged and ill-fitting, grinding with each step as if about to fall apart.

But she feels the words form when sees Kaidan give her that look. The same shadow cast over his eyes as the time he spoke to her of Rahna, of BAaT, of civilian life. He looks at her like a thing to grieve, and people only grieve things they have left behind.

Don’t go.

Her heart pounds and she knows she is selfish enough to say it. She never has asked it before, but she will if it’s him, if he will just—

“I trusted you.”

The past tense echoes through her pieces. Before she can tell which one is breaking, she is walking away to keep the rest intact.

[crazienerds]

Blackout Bliss

Unplanned power failures fuel unforgettable memories. As a child, unexpected power failures equated to fun. Those were the times when inverters and mobile phones didn’t find a place in every household. If power outages happened on a holiday, during the daytime, every child in the community would get out on the streets to play, away from the television, unmindful about the scorching heat.…

[unusuallysized-sfw]

The SEQUEL YOUVE BEEN WAITING FOR

DOCTOR WHO X BORROWERS AU

2

The Doctor sans companion lands upon a very strange planet, its oxygen content is liveable but extremely low for the size of the sphere.

They are even more confused when upon exiting the tardis they step on a tree.

the whole planet is 16x smaller than that of say earth. The Flora seems identical to that of most "terra like" planets but on a reduced scale, the doctor concedes that the whole thing seems like a radical exaggeration of how oxygen affects the "scale of life"

none the less they are fascinated.

especially when a huntswoman emerges into the =new= clearing. and immediately points a comically tiny spear at them.

"Hark! Giant! Be you a Demon a god amonster or Extra Terrestial, Friend or Foe, you trespass upon my forest."

The Doctor is unsure how to proceed here given any attempt to get on the level may be taken as a sign of...pity or diminishment. so they eventually just flop to the ground comically rather than bending

"Right sorry bout that, The Doctor, Probabbly Friend, Extra Terrestial, lovely planet...lovely forest too...sorry about the mess...i'll help you replant if-"

"Stay your Tongue, 'Doctor' why are you going prone, you are far too large to be inconspicuous. and far too vast for most predators to even bother." She echoes.

How would this move forward? i look forward to your ideas in the replies n reblogs!

[norbezjones]

Very Short Story: Spellbound (Romance The Backrooms)

Today's Very Short Story/VSS with my Romance The Backrooms characters! Here's when Adiel first met Glarence.

Word: Spellbound

Original Thread post: here

Characters: Adiel('s POV), Glarence

__________

Adiel rounded the corner and froze. For the first time, he wasn't looking at a monster, but a person. A person with a pair of eyes in their hair as well as on their face, but a person nonetheless.

He was frozen for a long moment, absolutely spellbound, unsure what to say. Now he knew he wasn't alone!

But his stupor was interrupted when the person ran up to him and slammed a fist into his face.

[inafieldofdaisies]

harsh whisper + Oliver x Oakley?

Prompt: Send me a number and I’ll write a micro story (3-10 sentences) with the word corresponding to it.

"Well, look at that, breaking rules, are we.", Oliver watched a Peggie do another round around the perimeter, the unmistakable red glow in the dark making him raise an eyebrow as the cultist took a hungry drag of his cigarette. The second he turned around McKenzie sprang into action or at least he attempted to, only for a hand to grab at his shirt roughly and yank him back to his hiding spot. "15 seconds.", Oakley's words were a harsh whisper full of irritation as she crouched down next to him, "That's how much he has on you, just enough to activate the alarm and have this place crawling with more Peggies as soon as he hears you behind him." Her hold on his shirt remained, "I know what I'm doing." "Are you sure about that?", hot breath fanned his face when she leaned in, "Maybe I should have sat back and watched... let you try to 'Houdini' your way out of this one." "You, watching me? Tempting, Moore." Her eyes narrowed at his flirtatious tone, "You want a repeat of our first meeting, McKenzie, is that it?" Oliver pushed his luck further, smirking at the memory, "Perhaps, with a little role reversal." She held his gaze for a couple of beats, long enough for the Peggie to circle around again, forcing her to inch closer in order to avoid being spotted. "Stay out of my way... and try to leave some alive for intel.", Oakley warned before swiftly taking off as soon as the cultist turned his back on them, her all black attire helping her blend in with the shadows perfectly while she stalked after her prey. "Goddamn, why do you have to be so hot.", McKenzie muttered under his breath as she grabbed the (un)lucky Eden's Gate enforcer, rendering him unconscious in a blink.

[mgrfp]

Monster Girl Romance Fiction Prompt #137

You accidentally swallow a gnat and another gnat flies in after it. After you've been sick the littler gnat explains she's an Atomie and she had to chase down her runaway steed. You agree to meet up later after everyone's had a bath and you end up getting real chummy.

[perfectlysunny02]

number 1 for the micro story prompts w/bucktommy

"Don't leave me, please." Buck sobs. He should be embarrassed, he's sobbing like a child, but it hurts. It hurts so much and Tommy's finally back, he's finally here, and Buck could not bear it if he left again. "Don't leave me. Please. Please."

"Sorry, baby," Tommy doesn't seem to sound like he's doing much better but that doesn't make Buck feel any better. In fact, it makes him feel worse. "I have to, sweetheart. I need to move out of the way, so they can lift this off of you, but I'll be right on the outside and when they get you out, I won't ever leave again until you tell me too. I promise. I have to go. I love you. Hold on for me."

[lenievi]

For the microstory, spones and (sorry I forgot what number it was but skfnendns) trembling hands? 😳

Spock ran his fingers through the soft hair, across the temple, across the cheek. He touched the lips, fingers trembling.

“Sleep well.” He leaned down and kissed the wrinkled forehead.

The door closed behind him.

With one glance at his face, Joanna’s eyes welled with tears.

[miitgaanar]

Requested by @serpenthyne! More indulgences abound!

Send me a number and I’ll write a micro story using the word or phrase

46. shimmer

A light breeze blew through the towering trees of Aeranth, the mighty boughs creaking softly as they shifted with the wind. Vaela breathed deeply, content to feel the cool night air upon her skin as she leaned against the balcony railing. The Arnor manor remained a welcome haven—a second home, at times—even after all of these years. It was the one place she knew she could retreat to when her memories weighed heavily and the scars at her wrists ached. There was no judgment within these walls, only a quiet understanding. "I hope I'm not disturbing you." Vaela turned at the voice, trying to hide the way she startled at the soft, deep timbre. Krelyss stood in the doorway to her room, his hands clasped behind him and his shoulders slightly slumped, as if he wished to make himself smaller. Less threatening. Vaela's heart constricted, knowing too well it was for her benefit. "Not at all," she said, mustering a half smile as she waved him in. "Just doing a bit of stargazing. A city girl like myself never really gets tired of the sight." Krelyss stood motionless for but a heartbeat, seeming to brace himself before he ventured in to join her on the balcony. The moon sat full and bright in the night sky, its light catching on his snow-white hair and causing it to shimmer. Vaela's chest grew tight and her wrists burned, memories of long ivory hair and cruel smiles surging forth—but she managed to smother the images into submission, like a hissing viper beneath her heel. "I see," he said carefully, daring to raise his scarlet gaze skyward. "It is quite a sight to behold. I still can't quite manage to stare for long before I feel as if the earth itself is being ripped out from under me." A more genuine smile pulled at her lips as she watched him. "The Underdark didn't exactly give you many reasons to look up, did it?" A huff of a laugh, and the barest upturn at the corner of his mouth. "That it did not." He paused for a beat. "You seem... happier than when I saw you last. Perhaps a bit solemn, but more at ease." My son's ghost no longer haunts you, his words said, like it still haunts me. "I have my days." Her gaze softened. "As I'm sure we all do." Krelyss simply hummed softly in reply, a heavy sigh escaping him before he turned to face her. An old, repressed grief pulled at his countenance, though he forced a small, gentle smile. Despite everything, Vaela's heart broke for him. "Erosen sent me to fetch you," he said. "It seems Riven's asked us to go for drinks." "Ever the ambassador, our girl," Vaela teased, relieved to see how Krelyss' face brightened. The sorrow that had lined his features vanished, giving way to a muted but profound pride. "Well, we'd best not keep her waiting. Del would never stand for such a slight." An amused chuckle left him, the sound rich and deep, and Krelyss grinned, standing just a bit taller as they made their way off the balcony. "That he would not."

[withoutend]

g/t prompt 39

micro sized city that has to deal with kaiju which are just ordinary flies and ants

i wonder how they would fight them off...

lego sized mechs? figurine sized but relatively giant magical girls? normal person who is deity sized and looking after them?

is the city on top of or near something important?