#flash ficiton

[hatchingphoenix]

The Musketeer

Everyday Drabbles #764

The duke’s men had entered the palace. We fought them hand-to-hand with flashing blades and single-shot pistols, our organized lines dissolving into a chaotic melee through the corridors and ballrooms. I had no love for the king, but the duke was no more palatable. I'd sworn oaths, and I would uphold them. But as the day wore on, I watched good men die. I killed good men. For what? The vanity of a throne? A title? Their bodies lay among the smashed marbles and torn tapestries, and I swore a new oath. Whoever won would have to deal with me.

[artist: Craig Mullins - https://www.instagram.com/craigmullinsofficial/]

[morganbc728]

Endurance - #SciFi #Fantasy #FlashFiction

Once a year, on the ice planet Iglacys, the sunrise painted the frozen landscape in hues of indigo, lavender and the sweet warming shades of gold. It was a fleeting moment of warmth in the endless winter. For centuries, the inhabitants of Iglacys gathered in quiet reverence as the first rays pierced the icy horizon, casting long shadows across crystalline plains.   Children whispered tales of…

[gwen-tolios]

You know a little about garden fairies. No one wants to be the victim of small curses, but it's nearly impossible to know what sets a fairy off so they're often treated like wasps - you ignore them and they'll ignore you.

Still, half-dead chrysanthemums can't be a nice home.

You buy a new pot, putting it right next to the old one. The fairy investigates it from time to time, you can see them harvesting nectar, but they continue to live in the half-dead pot.

Thinking it might just like the placement of the pot, you rotate the two. The fairy stays with the now-dead chrysanthemums. It thankfully doesn't seem to have too much against the move; you don't think you've earned a curse, anyway.

In the evenings, you sit on your balcony and enjoy the sun. Sometimes you see the fairy, sitting outside the burrow it's created in sun-baked earth. You don't know where it goes during the day - they're supposed to feed on nectar but your one pot of healthy chrysanthemums can't be enough to feed it. Does it harvest from your neighbor's mini roses? The posies three floors down? You've never seen it fly from or to your balcony, but it is nothing more than a tiny, green speck the size of a thumb joint.

It sticks around as summer ends, and you start to get worried. You know it's not a pet, dependent on you for care, but you notice the flowers are dying and with it the fairy's food source. You start to leave out caps of honey water, and now, after nearly two months of you and the fairy mutually ignoring each other you have attention.

It's nerve-wracking, seeing it land on your hand while you're holding a book. Can you turn the page? Or will that upset it, leading to a stinging curse? You don't turn a page for a solid ten minutes until it flies off to its burrow.

When you step outside it flies around your head, wings buzzing in your ear.

One evening, you place the cap of honey water not on the floor near the pot, but on your small bistro table. The fairy lands next to it, slurping the water. You've never seen it drink before, and try to hide your laughter. Faires are delicate, magical creatures and you expected them to use their hands as a cup. But no, the fairy ducks its head into the cap, slurping. When it sits back on its knees, water drips from its chin. Its hair, really wisps of magic, is weighed down.

It looks at you with round, faceted eyes and sings. You tense, fairies only make a sound when casting magic. Have you finally pissed it off? Have you been cursed?

Slowly, you step back into your apartment. Your bowl of raspberries, which you'd been munching on, is once again full.

You've not been cursed, you've been blessed.

You cry, glad the fairy likes you that much. Trusts you that much.

It's just a magical wasp, you know that. It feeds on flowers. They die when the weather gets cold. You shouldn't feel so connected to what many people consider a pest.

You grab a shallow dish, fill it with more honey water. A fest for a fairy. Slowly, you carry it and your bowl of raspberries outside.

The fairy is on the table's end, legs dangling and wings flapping like a butterfly. Its gaze zooms in on the dish. You can't read its facial expression, but you think clapping hands are joy. You set both dishes on the table, and for the first time, enjoy a meal together.

You find a fairy living in your “garden”: a half-dead pot of chrysanthemums on your 7th floor balcony.

[acroynon]

The Heist

They were all hunched over looking intently at the laid-out map. This was the most important mission, they couldn’t afford anything to go wrong. 

“Alright, let’s go over the plan one more time,” Tommy said. He’d brought this team together. It was his plan they were following. They’d all follow him to the end of the earth if they had to. “Oliver, you’re the lookout. You stay on the roadside and let us know if you see any movement. And I mean any movement.” Oliver simply grunted and nodded. He was a big guy but didn’t have much going on upstairs. That’s why he was always the lookout. “Marco, you’re the distraction. We need something big that’ll distract the target for at least 15 minutes.” 

“Yep, I’ve got the perfect idea.” He replied. Smirking as he patted the briefcase he was holding.

 “Angela will then use her master safe cracking skills to get us inside.” Angela twirled her tools around her fingers in agreement. “Bobby, then it’s up to you to disable any alarms or trip wires we might encounter”. Bobby had years of training in the field. He could tear apart any electronic device and put it back together without leaving a trace. He simply nodded. “I’ve managed to get the location of the device from my network of spies. I’ll retrieve it. Then it’s up to Lucy to get us out.” Tommy and Lucy’s eyes met, they’d know each other the longest out of anyone around this table. 

“We take the air vents to the adjoining room. There is a window leading to a fire escape. A quick hop down and I’ll be waiting to drive us all the hell out of here.” She said. The confidence in her voice washed over the entire team. They were going to do this.

“Alright team. Let’s go get my Gameboy back from my sister!” Tommy shouted as all the kids scrambled down the treehouse and ran towards the house.

[cherrybombfangirlwrites]

The City is Ours Masterlist

WIP Intro

Snippets

Screwdrivers and Cybernetic Green, Character Exploration with Chase

Fool Me Once, Fool Me Twice, Plot and Character Dynamic Exploration with Kylee and Nickelle, Flash Fiction Friday Prompt

Among Any Option, Early Team Dynamic Exploration, Flash Fiction Friday prompt

Needles and Guns, Character and Plot Exploration with Bryson, Flash Ficiton Friday Prompt

Asher and Damian Hurt Comfort Snippet (coming soon)

Character Intros (Coming soon)

Worldbuilding (Coming soon, go check out the wip tag for now)

Taglist: @friendlyneighborhood-writer @jessica-writes22 @rose-bookblood @yejidoesthings @space-writes @cljordan-imperium (send me a message to be +/- from the taglist <3)

[oneinist]

Rating: Explicit (This is the overall rating but varies from chapter to chapter) Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: M/M Relationship: Hatake Kakashi/Umino Iruka Please see Ao3 for tags

Summary: Drabble for the prompt “Mud wall”

Words: 121

Comment: Inappropriate use of jutsu is my KakaIru headcanon 🍆🐬 

Mud wall

Kakashi was smiling widely. In front of him, a pert butt was sticking out of a mud wall. Iruka had protested vehemently when Kakashi had proposed the chuunin with the idea of trapping him in a wall, but he had begged and Iruka had given in. 

Iruka was shifting nervously, his ass wiggling slightly, and Kakashi’s smirk only growing wider. They were going to have so much fun. Iruka could feel the flare of chakra and hear a familiar poof of in all probability a shadow clone being created. He could hear its footsteps drawing closer, showing up around the corner of the damned wall. 

“Yo!” it leered, “I’ll be observing,” it stated matter-of-factly. Iruka shot a stabbing glare at the clone.

[terrorandtales]

Quick Trip Down The Rabbit Hole...

I slept for 30 minutes… Jean Paul knew I couldn’t sleep. I tried my best not to wake him or worry him. When I got back into bed, he wrapped me up in his arms and asked, “baby are you okay? Did you have another terror?” I cuddled up close and shook my head, “I couldn’t sleep. Well I didn’t want to. I’m sorry for waking you honey.” He kissed my cheek, squeezed me, and fell back asleep. I know I said I would try, but all of the thoughts just kept circulating through my mind. The darkness seemed so bright. So loud and suffocating. I tried to match my breathing with his, but that didn’t work. So I just let him hold me and stared into the vast darkness. Then the ambiguous shadows of my mind started to fold in and I was sinking and being swallowed again. A lot can happen in 30 minutes… I felt like I was traveling through the quantum realm wildly fast. Blues, purples, greens, oranges, fiery stars and an explosion of colors swirled all around me. Time doesn’t exist in dreamland, especially when I’m being transported from one reality to the next. Before I could be dropped into whatever scene awaited me the alarm went off. Just as quickly as I fell into this mind fuck of a place, I was violently snatched from my dreamscape multiverse. I guess sleep will have to try again later this evening… Maybe a nap will suffice. Will I fall down the rabbit hole?

[annemareads97]

I wrote a thing! And it got published!

[hannah-deactivated20220725]

Vampire Idol: Liz’s Break up

WC: 967

Characters: Nane & Elizabeth

WIP: It’s about the MCs of Vampire Idol, though it isn’t like an official part of the story (consider it fanfiction from the original writer xD)

Situation: Elizabeth’s latest boyfriend breaks up with her over Nane, as so many have before him... how does she and how does Nane respond to the situation?

Author’s Notes: I really hope you guys like this! I had so much fun writing it. As one of my friends has recently said, I ship the FUCK out of these two. Makes me so sad that Nane is aro/ace. ): but doesn’t mean we can’t have sweet/cutesy platonic moments like this right? ;) platonic love matters too!

Vampire Idol Taglist (ask to be added or removed):

@wyldlynxx @mrs-raven-writes @magic-is-something-we-create @dczwrites @bathingindirtyteacups

General Writing Taglist (ask to be added or removed):

@sunlight-and-starskies @adaparkwrites @leafgreen6

I stare blankly at the latest man telling me that I’m “too attached” to my best friend and it’s “unnerving” that I “act more couply with him than I do with my own boyfriend.” Yet another. This is perhaps the 10th guy in the last 4 years that has made this same excuse. You’d think I’m the Taylor Swift of vampires, except that my relationships are all secret so I’m obviously not using them to build my fame.

I sigh heavily, rubbing my face.

“You really feel that way? There’s nothing I can say if you truly feel that way. I’m not begging you to stay.” He stares at me, face flushed. Since vampires’ blood doesn’t flow the same way that humans’ do, it is rare that you see a vampire’s face truly flush the way his is, so it’s more than clear how unhappy he is with my response.

“You won’t even fight for me?” He asks flatly, eyes narrowing slightly.

“Do I seem the type?” I ask simply, crossing my arms. He opens his mouth to retort but then closes it and walks away toward the door. When he reaches it, he stops, resting his hand on the knob, and turns toward me.

“You would fight if it was him.” I feel my face heating up in a blush, one of the very few times that a vampire will feel warm to the touch. And one of the only times, unless they are wearing makeup, that there will be color on their cheeks (or if they’re from a place with darker skin, since, unlike what media tries to say, becoming a vampire only pales your skin a little bit, not completely). I fight to find the right response to his words. No, I’m not in love with him... but I really felt like this was going somewhere... not right to the place where all of my past relationships have gone. But here we are, having the same discussion that I’ve had with every one of my other exes.

He watches my face closely for only a moment before turning and finishing his trail out the door. I simply stand still, watching his retreating back.

--

I find myself lying on my back, stomach gurgling. I haven’t fed in a week. We’re supposed to be hosting The Show, but my heart just isn’t in it. Am I doomed to live my life alone? I know that I have a reputation to maintain. I have a public persona to maintain and if people see me avoiding Nane, they will think we’re in a fight, which will either destroy or make our relationship career.

I hear a loud, firm knock at my door and without warning, Nane’s voice.

“Liz? Are you in there?” I’m silent. I’m not ready to fake a relationship. I can’t do this right now. My relationship with my best friend is what is causing me to remain single all this time. I want to be with someone. I don’t want to be single, in a fake relationship my whole goddamn life.

The knocking ensues and eventually, I find myself sitting up.

“Nane, leave,” I say simply, forgetting that he has his own key to my place (to keep up appearances and because we are just that good of friends). I don’t forget for long, as  he is soon in my place, finding his way to the room where I’m staring blankly at a black television screen. He frowns and sits next to me.

“Are you okay?” He asks quietly. I tense but offer no response to his concern. I don’t want to admit that I want to fall in love. The only time that I confess this feeling is when I get so intoxicated that I actually consider quitting the public scene in order to seek a true, meaningful relationship. For as long as Nane and I are as close as we are, I will never find the love that I want.

He frowns as if he’s reading my mind and offers to wrap an arm around me, but I scoot away.

“Don’t,” I say simply, tensely. He frowns but remains still, respecting my wishes. I slowly glance up at him.

“Why,” I say quickly. He frowns. We’ve had this discussion a time or two. And by that, I mean every time this situation happens. He lets out a little sigh.

“C’mon, Liz. Try to relax and we’ll have some ice cream and popcorn like you like it. And watch sappy love movies.” My eyes start to water as I laugh emotionally.

“Can you imagine what would happen if all of our fans saw me being like this over another man?” I ask, shaking my head. He pulls my face up to look into his eyes with his index finger, gazing deep into mine.

“Who cares?” I feel my heart leaping from my chest, even though I haven’t ever actually felt what it was like to have a beating heart. He studies my eyes closely. “Put the movie on. I’ll make the food.” He kisses my cheek, making my stomach feel like butterflies but I simply mutely nod and then turn on the television set to turn on the movie we watch traditionally when I go through exactly this situation.

Soon, he comes into the room with a bowl of popcorn and a carton of ice cream and a spoon to share. When I get like this, we cuddle and watch the same movie every time. It’s like our little tradition when my heart is broken.

And you know what the best part is?

No one knows about it, so I know this is all him just genuinely caring about me and the fact that I have a heart, even if it functionally doesn’t work.

[votocis]

Dead or alive

The advertisement looked bleak. It unpleasantly reminded Lucas of a scene from Sister Act where Deloris Van Cartier was being searched for as a beloved daughter (or cousin), dead or alive. It made him chuckle at the time, but now there was nothing to laugh about. This was about real dangerous people searching for a real person, that happened to be his friend (in some weird way).

“So...” He disturbed the silence, shifting his gaze from his laptop’s screen to Octavia. “What are you gonna do about it?”

“I’m planning to give them exactly what they want.” Octavia said with confidence, that almost didn’t match a shaky manner with which she took out a cigarette.

Lucas raised his eyebrows, for a moment staying silent as if he was still processing the fact that she seemed perfectly serious about it. “Are you crazy?” She was, they had established that some time ago. “You’ve been running away from them this whole time and now you want to willingly throw yourself into their arms?” He seemed to be missing something, he had to be.

The woman shrugged her arms and got up from a stool. She lit up the cigarette and took a deep drag of it, before exhaling slowly. “Eleven years.” She started, instead of addressing the question directly, as she would. “I’ve been running away from them for eleven years and most of my plans haven’t worked out. I’m here, aren’t I?” She smiled ironically. “I have a concept, more than a plan, and in the worst case scenario I’ll kill just one of those fuckers, in best? I’ll take all of them down.” There was something Octavia have kept to herself this whole time knowing exactly just how much Lucas would not appreciate the type of company she decided to get entangled with – the FBI. “I have nothing to lose, anymore.”

“What about your life? How are… wha… How do you see that even going? You’re one woman against God knows how many people, and you think you could take even one down before others shoot you?” He shook his head in disbelief getting up. “I always thought your survivals instincts are stronger than that.” He commented to which she just rolled her eyes. “Unless…” He turned around to face her. “You’ve been working with someone, who should not know about my existence, but you sold me out for your own safety.”

Octavia’s hand paused at her lips, she slowly moved it away squinting her eyes as she looked to him. “That’s really how little trust you have in me?”

“You’ve got almost none of my trust.” He raised his voice. “You’re always bending the truth, sneaking around, it’s in your fucking nature, so don’t even try to make me feel like I’m the bad guy here.”

She averted her sight, trying to keep her nonchalant manner as she took another drag, exhaling towards the window. It wasn’t even close. The smoke spread around the room, soaking into their clothes, staining the furniture with its odor that was going to hang around for longer than Lucas would like it.

“I should’ve known.” He muttered underneath his breath closing his laptop. Leave her to her own devices, he thought. If she’s just that desperate to kick the bucket, just let her. It was tempting, indeed.

[hatchingphoenix]

The Strongest

Everyday Drabbles #944

He wasn’t the best golfer to ever play the game, but he may have been the strongest. The power of his shots was unrivaled, breaking distance records and stunning audiences with the power of his swings. But he was banned from the professional circuit. A fan favorite, a debate raged across the sports world about what to do. But for as powerful as he was, he lacked finesse, which is what led to his downfall. The greenskeepers aligned to remove him from the sport, to prevent the scorched holes and craters he left in the rough and on the green.

[photographer: unknown]

[storyunrelated]

Flash #1642

“Ah. You smell that? You feel that? Something’s different, isn’t it? Something on the wind!

That’s the end, friend. The end approaches!

Come now, come now! No need for tears. Wipe those eyes, friend. This is the culmination! That to which all life trends, the end, you see? All that starts must stop, yes? Where’s the sadness in that?

No no, no tears, friend, this isn’t the time for tears.

And think of it! What a glorious end we have to look forward to! Not for us to fade away, no! A glorious crescendo! That’s what’ll be seeing us off! A searing blaze of light and sound to wipe us all away!

Fireworks to celebrate the conclusion of all our efforts!

Ah, you hear that? Here it comes now, friend.

Here it com-”

[maybeicaninspire]

We're looking for submissions of #shortstories #flashfiction or #poetry for our newest anthology! #paidmarket #amwriting #amediting #author #authors #authortalk 

http://www.pub518.com/submit-to-us.html

[mindcluttermeltdown]

Roundabout

Mary sits in her rocking chair by the window, gaze fixed on the distant somewhere, and her thumb running over the back of her wrinkled hand. Her granddaughter sits on the couch opposite talking about her trip to Europe and her struggles navigating the various cities.

How silly of the girl. Course, Tom got lost too. Mary smiles and tells her granddaughter of the time when the family took a trip out East to sight-see. They were in Saint Louis, she thinks. Tom was supposed to take the road that led North before heading East again, but it was all dark, so the road signs were hard to see. “Oh, it was Saint Louis! The Saint Louis Arch!” They passed by it, and Tom pointed it out to the kids, but then Tom missed their turn off, so they had to do a U-turn to try and find the road again. They ended up passing the Arch again, so Tom pointed again, and the kids laughed. That time he went too far down the road, so they had to do another U-turn. There went the arch.

Her granddaughter laughs and makes a remark about how silly her grandfather was.

Yes, Mary continues, that was the trip they took to see Yellowstone and the Tetons, some family in Missouri, then the Great Lakes before circling back around through Mount Rushmore and some other places. They did it over the summer since the kids didn’t have to worry about school. They had done alright for most of the trip, but when they were driving out of Missouri, in one of the cities, Saint Louis, she thinks, they ended up getting a bit turned around. It was dark, you see, and she told Tom to take a North road, but he couldn’t read the signs so he missed it. “Oh, it was Saint Louis! The Saint Louis Arch!” Saint Louis, because they ended up driving past the Arch three times! Tom made some jokes about it and they all laughed.

Her granddaughter chuckles: sounds like something Grandpa would do.

Mary nods. Yes, Tom was always doing silly things. Like that one summer when they took the kids East on a road trip. They had been staying with some family in Missouri but wanted to get an early start for the next leg of the trip. Because it was early, it was also dark and road signs were hard to read. She isn’t sure where, but the kids saw something out the window. “Oh, it was Saint Louis! The Saint Louis Arch!” Yes, they passed the arch, but Jack was asleep when Tom pointed it out, so he missed it. When they had to turn around, Tom and the other two made sure Jack saw it. The third time they passed, they all said, “There goes the arch!” They laughed.

Her granddaughter smiles, cherishing Mary’s laugh. Sounds like quite the trip. Mary looks at her, “Anyway, how was your trip to Europe, honey?”

[writinglvl]

Ramen Night

https://tenor.com/view/shin-hoseok-wonho-monstax-gif-9235907

~Wonho x Reader 

~Boyfriend Wonho

~Word Count: 944

Wonho was always one for working head and relaxing often, regardless of his schedule especially after debuting as a soloist. Times have become rather hectic with the amount of interviews and promotions that he needed to attend. The more you watched what was being posted, the more you missed having him around the apartment. You have your own place and he has his although the two of you spend more time at the apartment over his house. All your actions were that of a fan but when the two of you were together the vibe shifted. He’d lay his head on your lap and snuggle up against your stomach praising how lucky he was to have someone like you in his life.

This evening you could feel your stomach growl aggressively after binge watching Goblin for the fifth time that year. There was food in the fridge and plenty to cook. You reached over for the takeout pamphlet from a new ramen shop that opened in town. As you look for a meal to order, a sweet ring goes off from the doorbell. It was fairly late and no one should be coming over, you go and peek out the door and to your surprise your sweet bunny Wonho stood with a large smile and bags of take–out. You threw the door open, the moment that Wonho took a step in you wrapped your arms around him pressing your face against him.

Wonho couldn’t help but place the bags down and squeeze you tightly, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. You pulled away, leaving a kiss on his cheek before grabbing the bags and heading into the kitchen. He starts telling you about all that he’d been up to. The late night recordings. The back to back performances and interviews. He even mentioned how much you’d love visiting Osaka the next time he has days off. As he went to change, you gathered some sides like spinach, kimchi, and a couple of marinated boiled eggs you made yesterday.

“What’s taking so long, I finished setting the table”, Wonho pouted, grabbing the food out of the bags.

“Ay~ I’ll be right there!” you scurried over to the table.

The two of you enjoy a lovely evening talking, eating ramen just like you did on your third date. Although back then you were able to go out freely for a walk afterward. It’d been a while since the two of you went on a real date, it bothered you at times but you understood that going out wasn't easy anymore. As the two of you finish up your food, Wonho scooted up next to you turning you to face him as he pulled you closer. You pulled yourself up onto his lap, wrapping your arms around his back while his hands laid at your waist. He couldn’t help but tease how you had bought his new album and put up a poster print of one of his Instagram posts. You hit his chest playfully saying that one of his noonas brought it over the last time she visited. Wonho pulled you even closer, he played with your hair softly peppering kisses on your neck and shoulder.

You flushed red, being pressed up against his body was so different than when you first met him. The amount of time he’s spent in the gym is almost as much time as you’d spend studying at college.

“You know, sometimes I wish I could give you a normal relationship”, Wonho whispered.

“Who wants normal? This is our relationship. I don’t want anything else.” you reassured him.

“Really? Nothing else?” he trailed his hands up and down your back.

You get chills with each stroke but you push yourself away screaming, “who wants sweets?!” You jump out of his arms and scurry to the kitchen beet red. Your heart is racing and your mind was imagining some thoughts that you hadn’t considered since the last time he visited. It was impossible for you not to get embarrassed by his seductive words but you knew that you had work early in the morning and did not want to have to call in. Wonho chuckled at your reaction, watching your every move as he gathered the mess on the table.

Wonho joins you in the kitchen, smirking as you fidget with a spoon. It had been about four months since the last time either of you saw each other let alone be intimate. Slowly, he slithered his arms around your waist from behind embracing you. You feel the heat from his breath as he nuzzles his lips into your neck leaving deep kisses along your skin. Although your body wanted him, you wanted to enjoy his sweet cuddly side before anything escalated. You spun around placing your hands on his chests, trailing them up to his shoulders. The two of you lock eye contact, he steals a glance from your lips.

“How about some ice-cream? The ramen was spicy, I want something sweet.” you ask quickly as his hands wander down to your hips. There was a flicker in his eyes, you knew how much he loved ice-cream and would never say no to it but it didn’t sway him.

“I love ice-cream. I want something sweeter.” he leans in, stealing a kiss, lustfully gazing into your eyes.

“Candy!”, you lean over pulling out a small bag of choco biscuits but Wonho could care less.

He chuckled, grabbing the hem of your shirt. Leans over and growls into your ear, “I know... you’re sweeter than any candy in this kitchen.”

[suevincent]

Hinting at… Happiness? by Sarah Brentyn

Hinting at… Happiness? by Sarah Brentyn

Reblogged from Sarah Brentyn: What does a Harvard University professor have to do with flash fiction? Nothing. And everything. Or, at least, something. I’ve thought for a long time now that good flash fiction packs a punch. It heightens emotional responses, engages readers, invites them to be a part of the story, makes them think…and keeps them thinking. As I said in a recent guest post at D.…