#fff50

[flashfictionfridayofficial]

Get the Fireworks started!🎆 🎇🎆 Get some Cake! Because it’s Celebration Time! 🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉

Today marks the 50th Flash Fiction Friday! 🎁

Never heard of Flash Fiction Friday before? No problem, stranger. The collective is here to help you with everything you need to know to participate

So what is FlashFictionFriday on our blog all about? It’s a fun writer-event that’s meant to inspire, share and connect writings of all genres and writers of all ages. It’s designed to make people want to write, especially if they’re feeling blocked. Everyone and everything is welcome!

We always do our very best to keep the prompts genre open, entertaining, positive and encouraging.✨✨✨✨✨

Write between 100-1000 words. It also can be a fan fiction or poetry entry. Just tag fan fiction and 18+ stories accordingly.

Use this Friday’s theme in your text. Any way you see fit.

Post on your Tumblr blog and remember to tag us at @flashfictionfridayofficial!! So we’ll see it, read it and reblog it!!

Deadline is 24 hours after the prompt has been issued on Saturday at 12pm CET

And then next Friday we’ll mention your work in a showcase post on our main blog before the next prompt drops.

If you have a question, check out or super brand new FAQ page! If your question isn’t on there, don’t hesitate to ask! <3

You don’t need to ask for permission or need to get added to a list. Just write, have fun and don’t forget to tag us.

Please post your entries as regular post and don’t screenshot them. We try to keep things as accessible as possible and screenshots don’t work for some people.

And most of all: Have fun with it.

If you’re bored and want to read splendid previous pieces, here is the link to the FFF library in this Google Docs document you can access freely at any time.

If you want to be closer to the epicenter, you can come chat on our open discord (we don’t bite! …usually!) And it is a good way to find more of other writers who participate. ✨✨✨✨✨

We do not condone fiction, asks or comments that contain: direct hostility, unconstructive critique, LGBTQIA+ hate, slurs, racism and/or general no-no behaviors.

Here come the wide-ranged, dangerous, and amazing flash fics of last week. 

In the Morning - by @inexorableblob Lust of Steel – by @wolfishwrites Mesmerizing Blade – by @houser-of-stories The Dance – by @onceuponanaromantic Mesmerizing Blade – by @littlefireflylove Wondering – by @starlightswitch Mesmerizing Blade – by @linariouswrites Shining Glory, Dim Afternoon – by @starklyscifi New Recruit – by @peggydreadful The Mesmerizing Blade – by @shortlittlestorythings A Sword That Strikes Twice – by @meteor-writes Never Alone – by @itsokaytobefreak Mesmerizing Blade – by @ifonlyicouldwrite Mesmerizing Blade – by @fantasy-shadows Mesmerizing Blade – by @crazycoffeemermaid Strange Encounter – by @pheita Mesmerizing Blade – by @kentwrites Shock and Awe – by @snow-rosie Mesmerism – by @ellatholmes Magic – by @writingamongthecoloredroses Beautiful Stranger – by @soul-write

Thank you everybody for participating !!! If we missed any entry last week let us know and send us a message.

And now our way to celebrate. The collective got extra creative for you and we have not one, not two, not three but FOUR prompts ready for you. 🎁 You can pick which one inspires you the most and go ahead. Feel inspired for two or more? No problem! Share it with us. But don’t feel pressured to do all of them. It is an opportunity, not mandatory. You can also mix and match all of them in one story if the muses want you to. Just do whatever the creative mind of yours make out of it. So here we are, friends of the flashy things

What makes an unusual concoction? Why does someone goes mouth to mouth? What is shattered sunshine made of? And why is something all smoke and mirrors? Let us know and don’t forget to tag us! And now get some cake and write like there is no tomorrow!🖌️🖌️🖌️

The Collective✨✨✨✨✨

THE FFF TAGLIST

 @purpleshadows1989 @cirianne @shadowlostinacrowdofpeople @kainablue @mushwrites @pen-for-sword @writingwordsanddrawingpictures @goblin-writer @writingonesdreams @jojoscoffeeandwriting @every-book-has-a-secret @jess---writes @hipster-merchant-of-death @scripturientworld @morganwriteblr @bookenders @livvywrites @inexorableblob @books-andbiscuits @thewordsinthesky-andstars @bookish-actor @anthonylora @eluari @alexwillow @anaestheticdisaster @procrastinatingwriter05 @socialmediasocrates @innocentreticent @chaos-writing @smudged-glasses-writing @sunlight-and-starskies @anthonylora @rhikasa 

#writblr #writing #flash fiction friday #fff50 #celebration #unusual concoction #mouth to mouth #shattered sunshine #smoke and mirrors

[enchanted-lightning-aes]

The Nifty Elixir 

A/N: Something original for today^^. IDK how this story even formed, but I’m glad it did. zero angst here. Just a silly tale about. . . potions. :3

Word Count: 597

TW: None

***

Crows are cawing with their shrill calls, perched on a sloped roof. A visible suspension of blue air oozed out from a red chimney. Beneath it, a fireplace sizzles while air passes onto a track above. They flap their wings, slightly bewildered by what is that.

In the center of a room, a sorceress closes an ancient spell book. She slides off her chair to check in on with her experiment.

From listening to a friend's advice, she decided to concoct a potion that might aid her in an important task of hers. Maybe this can turn out decently.

A cauldron brews red smoke with an invigorating scent. Then she glances at bubbles fizzing on crimson liquid. It stirs on it's own she discovered upon acquiring it. Once she detects it finishes, she uses an iron ladle to extract a scoop of it. It doesn't burn through. She blinks because she expected it to do that.

And while potions aren't her main specialty, she's aware of essential facts about it.

She pours the potion into a small vial and shake it until it's color changes into lavender.

Operation is a success, she thinks, covering it with a cap.

When she cleans those used ingredients from the work table, she discards them into a bin. She wipes soot from her shabby torso and pants before dusting her hands.

Curtain flap in a chilly breeze while window panes clap.

The sorceress takes a look at a guide written in a scroll once more:

Two teaspoons of lemon

One dash of sunflower seeds

A bucket of warm water

Five pieces of mint

And a piece of rosemary

She followed it carefully, thinking it can actually work.

An exuberant energy courses through her veins and she keeps the potion in a satchel. She fetches a long cloak from a cabinet, putting it over her head. Once she carries the satchel with her, she gets out of her study room. She ambles up into a staircase, proceeding to the first floor. She arrives at a front door and pulls it open.

Sun's bright within the peach-colored sky, nearly hidden behind a line of fuzzy clouds. She walks down on a long trail, whistling to a tune. Birds are singing and playing in a fountain, where water shines from light above.

In the back of a quaint cottage, numerous trees, plants, flowers fill a wide spot. Thriving as if turning into a forest. A garden blessed with forces of nature.

When the sorceress reaches to a little patch of emptiness, she digs into the soil. She pours a dash of the potion then covers it up again. Next, she approaches a limp plant with sagging leaves. She siphons another trickle of potion, lavender liquid slipping into a leaf.

Some plants in this garden are having trouble to grow, so she sought for a method to fix it. Her friend, a witch, told her about making a potion with unusual effects that she didn't heard of before. And it was no hardship to search for right components to do it.

Taking a step back, she begins waiting for results.

The patch sprouts with a string of weeds bursting from the soil, followed by a root straggling across over to cover the brown ground.

In a matter of moments, the sagging plant aligns itself. Another pair of leaves grow at sides of it's thin stem. Hmm, not bad for an unusual concoction. It did this task, surpassing her initial expectations for it by surprising her.

Preoccupied by results of success, the sorceress smiles at herself.

***

#writeblr #fantasy #flash fiction friday #flash fiction #fff50 #enchant: original works

[sweetcatmintea]

Ms Myrtle’s Garden

Hello hello! I’m back after a million years ^u^ It’s @flashfictionfridayofficial‘s 50th promptiversary today so I really wanted to try and participate. Writing has been less than stella lately but I finally had an opportunity to explore an idea I’ve had for a while. It’s more of an atmospheric piece than an actual story but I hope you enjoy nonetheless! Feedback is always appreciated 💜💜

Prompts: Smoke and Mirrors | Unusual Concoction | Shattered Sunshine Words: 1140

---

Dearest Olivia,

Though the distance between us is great, the moments between my thoughts of you dwindle by the day.

How was that, pretty Pride and the Prejudice right? I’m only messing with you Ollie. Theatrics aside, I miss you so much! I can’t wait until we see each other again. If nothing else, at least this “studying abroad” thing has allowed us to realise our lifelong dreams of writing long winded letters with homoromantic subtext and sending them across the ocean to an eagerly awaiting recipient. (Yes, I know all of the good opportunities the pamphlet listed; I’m being dramatic!) Just kidding about the subtext though. (Or am I ou<~*)

I’m still reeling from your last letter! There’s no way you really bunked with a ghost! That’s terrifying. You may laugh and play it off as nothing, but I would have jumped ship and swam home if that was me. Though, you always have been the braver of us so I’m sure you’ll indulge me and forgive my reaction. Just say the word and I’ll jump on the first plane and come rescue you! A la a redeemed antagonist proving their worth.

Honestly, it hasn’t been too exciting over here in my little corner of the world. I paid Ms Myrtle a visit yesterday, so I’ll tell you about that. (Ms Myrtle says hi!) I’ve been working on restocking new blends for the store and figured it would be nice to take some over for Ms Myrtle to sample. I feel kind of bad for her, y’know? She doesn’t get many visitors these days. I think the children are all too scared of her.

It was cold, oddly so for this time of year, when I arrived. Her front yard is as immaculate as ever, though I’m not sure I’ve ever actually seen anyone tend to it. Maybe it’s just the perfect level of overgrown that everything looks nice simply because the plants are healthy? I don’t know, I digress. It took a few minutes of shivering and waiting for her to answer once I’d knocked on the door, but soon enough, she greeted me with a warm smile and welcomed me in.

“Oh, hello dearie! It’s so lovely to see you again.” The way she talks is so cute.

Camembert, like the stinky cheese he is, took one disinterested look at me and trotted off on whatever cat business he had planned. Probably off to eat someone’s beloved pet. I’m not sure there’s a single person in the block who doesn’t have a personal vendetta against him. It’s practically a childhood right of passage. I know your dad still hasn’t forgiven him for Captain Bubbles’ murder. Still, we could be friends if he’d just let me love him.

Right, staying on topic.

The incense hit me as soon as I passed the threshold, thin plumes of smoke wrapping themselves through the air of the living room, following as we passed through to the kitchen. It wasn’t unpleasant. It never is. But it certainly gives her home a particular presence. A nostalgia rattle. She still keeps the house dim, like even the lamps know they are in an old person’s home and want to be as stereotypical as possible. She led me into the kitchen, flicking on the kettle with shaky carefulness.

“What wonderful concoction have you brought me today, sweetheart?”

I laughed, awkwardly playing off the compliment like it doesn’t absolutely make me blush every time. Because it doesn’t. Don’t smirk, I can feel it from here.

“Nothing too unusual today, Ms Myrtle,” I said, passing her the box, “It’s a rose-almond blend. Black tea base so it should be pretty forgiving for beginners. I was wondering what you thought of the flavour? I think something’s missing but can’t place it. Although, any excuse to visit you is always a good one.”

“Oh ho ho, you flatterer.” She set the mix to brew, smiling airily all the while. “Everything you do is so clever! I’m sure the tea is just wonderful.” Beckoning me to follow, she ambled to the back door. “It’s rather nippy in here, let’s enjoy this outside. Maybe we will be lucky enough to catch the afternoon sun.”

If the front yard is homey and inviting, the back garden is whimsically sweet to the point of toothache. Thick, lush foliage, a thousand flowers blooming no matter the season, windchimes that were little more than mirrored shards hanging from the trees and shattering sunshine across the grass in every colour imaginable. Her garden is so wonderful, I really wish I could enjoy it more. I never could get past the little bells though. There has to be hundreds of them by now. I don’t know, something about seeing all of those little strings poking out of the ground… You know what I mean.

We spent the afternoon sitting together, sipping tea, and chatting about this and that. I talked about the store and my ideas for future mixes. Ms Myrtle suggested adding vanilla to the rose blend. I think I’ll try that. She talked about how proud she was of me (and you) for growing into ‘such fine young ladies’, and that she’s been rather into baking lately and would be so happy if I’d take some rosemary bread home with me. I accepted of course. We spoke about her partner and the war they were in. More the dancing whenever they came home side of it than the fighting side. I still don’t know which war they served, but I don’t think anyone really does so what else is new.

The windchimes quietly sang the entire time. Despite the vitality of the garden, there’s still this all-encompassing stillness about it. No bugs sitting on the rim of our teacups, no lizards basking, no rustling in the bushes. I can’t help but wonder, are the chimes a cover? Did Ms Myrtle notice? Does it distract her from the absence of birds?

Despite the twinkling and the dancing rainbows refracting around us, a muffling shadow crawled over us, a stiff breeze running shivers up my spine and agitating the chimes. Our visit was cut short by the ring of Camembert’s bell. In her polite and dottering way, Ms Myrtle ushered me out the door, depositing a loaf of bread into my arms and requesting I visit again soon. I can only imagine her cat caught another unfortunate creature. I watched as Ms Myrtle sighed, took up as trowel, and disappeared back towards the garden, smiling all the while. I left as Camembert’s bell was joined by those of the safety coffins.

That was that. Nothing too out of the ordinary. It may have only been yesterday but I demolished that bread. You’re really missing out haha! Anyway, write again soon!

Miss you, love ya,

Your bestie,

Wren.  

---

Tag list

@snobbysnekboi, @inkovert, @kainablue, @i-rove-rock-n-roll , and @goblin-writer

---

This is supposed to have an unsettling atmosphere. I’m not sure if it comes through or not. I’d love to know what you think!

#writing #writblr #original fiction #short story #flash fiction friday #fff50 #ask to tag #unsettling #More at my deviantArt SweetCatMint

[nenestansunsthings]

@flashfictionfridayofficial

it's the 50th flash fiction friday! i haven't written for these in a while, but we had four whole prompts this week and i really liked one of them. and i had a story i wanted to rewrite, if i can find the notebook it was in. so...

anyway, let's start! the prompt i'm using for now is-

[[MORE]]

.

There is light, a blinding, burning light, through every shard and fractal of his inhuman body. There is a scream sharp in his ears, in the bone-dry hollow of his throat where he can't reach. There's nothing, nothing past that.

It's only faintly that William realizes he's fallen to the ground.

A boot crunches down on his hands, where he was still scrabbling desperately against the sand, and the scream cracks along with the glass of his fingers. He doesn't think he'll ever be used to that sound, even after his body has lost all humanity. The god that made him this way growls, digging in their heel harder. He can't see past the blinding light.

"Did you think you could get away with this?!" Emil demands, their clarion voice ringing out like a trumpet. It's not the same soft, human one they'd used talking to their family, and talking to him in the quiet of night. "Did you think you could get ả̵̟͙͂̔̒̌̈̄͝ẅ̵̬̱̫̂a̴̭͇͔̹͉͔̋̆͑͊͛̾͘ÿ̷̨̢͍̦͎̫̳͙̘̙?! I've given you everything! I've given you more than you ever dared to hope for! And yet you still try to ḷ̴̨̼̙̖͎͔̮͗̎̇͐̕ë̸̳̭̫͓͇́̾̀͠a̸̛̪͎͎̔͗̍̀̃̇́͝v̴̼̪̈́͌̈́̉́̇͗̚͠ͅe̸̛̖̦̠̒̔̉!"

William forces himself to breathe. It comes in shaky, unstable in the sandstorm swirling around them. He can still feel the pain of it whipping into him. He doubts Emil's ever been able. "Please-" he chokes out, "please, no, stop-"

"You b̵̧̢̲̱̞̓͋̍̈̑̊͐̒͘é̴̬̘̻̲̘̗̣́̋̓̕͠t̶̨̟͔͍́̂̀r̵̢̳͚̹͔̰̽͂̐a̴̧̤̗͎̞̳̹͍͓̓̈́ỳ̵̧̱̳̣͖̰͍̼̞e̸̡̧̱͓̝̥͆͐̇̂̿̓́͝͝d̷̲̗̬̻͚̥̆ ̶̢̝̻͇̦̜̄̊̃̐̽́͋̚ͅm̴̧̺̼̓̀̅e̶̬͎̼͂̒͜!" Emil screams, all the fury of the sun being born bright in their whole being, "a̶̧͗ṅ̷̯d̴̥̐ ̵̛̖ȳ̷̭ö̸̯́ṷ̴̍ ̵͓̑t̷̙́h̴̜͑ì̵͍n̸̰͛k̶̺̅ ̶̜̓I̵̟̚'̸̠́m̴̼̏ ̶̜͊j̴̖̅ṳ̴̔s̴̩̈́t̵̰̐-̵̹͠ ̷͚́j̷̟͐u̷̦͘s̷̲̃t̷̛̺ ̴͚͊g̴̻̽ò̶̹i̷͛͜n̴̞̎g̷̤̑ ̷̰̒t̴͙͌o̵̞͋ ̴̧̈́s̷̢͋ț̸͛ö̸̗́p̵̹̐?̵̖̑ ̵̙̒Ṉ̴̔ò̵̼!̶̪̀ ̸̲̀Ẏ̵͈o̴̫͘û̴̧ ̶͍̃t̶̙͒ŗ̸̛ị̸̛ê̸̝d̶͇͒ ̶̡̛t̷͎̀o̸̙͒ ̷̼̈́l̶̦͐é̶͔a̵͖͝v̶̟̉e̴͓͝-̷̪͊!̶̬̈"

"Please, you're hurting me-!"

"- and you- you helped Adam ̵̠͝ĺ̷̥e̶̠͝a̸͔̒v̷̳̒e̵̻͑-̵̞̓!̷̝̕"

"Emil, you're breaking me!"

"G̴̛̣̠̯͈̲̟̖͖̟͉͚̏̾ͅö̵̻̬̩̗̳̙͍̫̞̩̳̀̈́̒͗̆͒̎͋ǫ̴̜̖͖͙͈̳͙̟͍̟͓̀̊͋̂̈́́̋̍̽̍͝ͅd̵͕̬̹̻̖̋̀̓̀̍͑͗͜!̶̧̢̡̱̼͎͍̥̳͉̗̱̺̰͈̜̼͆͒͗̇̔̄̃̍̋͋̓͋̌͆̓͘" The aridisol making up their body explodes outwards, enough that their form is barely humanoid anymore. Faintly, William can hear the terrified voices of the other townspeople, trying to take shelter from the dust storm. He tries to speak again and Emil shatters the glass of his legs.

"Emil!" Another voice cuts in through the storm, familiar and almost safe. Samuel Deke grabs Emil by the wrist, all the dust of him quickly absorbing the unbearable heat rising from his sibling. He doesn't seem to care. "Emil, leave him alone! He didn't do anything wrong-"

"H̶̛̜̑e̶̮͌̆ ̷̳͔̈́́ȉ̵̳̐s̴̬̾ ̷̭̤̈́̉ṭ̸̭͝͝r̷̙̟̅ẙ̵̘̀i̴͇̟̽͛n̴̛͚͒ĝ̸͚ ̸̢́t̵̤̦͊͘o̶̖̝̍ ̷͓̏ͅl̸̘̼͂e̷͍̋ǎ̸͍̽v̸̧̔ẻ̸̠ ̷̫̔̆m̴͉͕̀̚ẹ̵͖͑͗!̴̮͒" More shattering, this time in his shoulders. "I̸̼̍ ̴͓̆ď̸̦í̷̲d̸̙́ǹ̵̰'̴̭́t̴̡̆ ̶̘̑d̴̝̓o̵͖͛ ̶̧͠a̸̤͘n̴̘͐y̷̤̌t̵̯̂h̶̠̾ī̷̫n̸̼͒g̸͙͝ ̸̤̾w̴̿ͅȑ̶̯o̸̝͘n̵̻̓g̸̹̚ ̴̯̅Í̴͖ ̴̤̇d̶̺̕i̵͔̋d̵͙̃ ̴̟͠e̶͎̅v̶͎̀e̶̤͝r̶͙̒y̷̧͠t̷̺̋h̷͙̎i̴̫̒n̷͚̄g̴̢͐ ̶̪͂r̴̦͘ì̴̥g̶͈̿h̶͉́t̸̝̕ w̸͈̜̝͛h̴̨̡̰̊͌̈͆͆͝y̷̧̼͙͓̘̝̒ ̶̲͕̗̭͍̓̄̽i̷̧͉͎̫̾̀̾s̷̛̙ ̴̧̠͎̰͐͐͛͘ḩ̸̢̻̘̒̊̀̑̿̉͜ͅe̵̱̰̣̰͓͉̓ ̷̥̞̺̟̼̉͜t̴̡̻̰̘͓̪̀r̶̝͌y̷̛̽̊̚̚ͅi̸̭̤̦̮̬̟͌̔͂̑͗͝n̵̝̩͊g̵͖̹̪̈́̈́̈́ ̴̢̧̦͔̗̤͌̓͌t̶̗͈͓̏̀͒̇͛̔o̵̰̖̺͑͠ ̷͉̣̟̾̄̈͗͒̍l̶̨̦̫͇̜̓͝e̵̠̘̟̼̐̅̋ḁ̷̥͖̱͖͆͠v̶̘̥̂̄̎̓͘é̸̺͍̞̍̽̈͘ͅ ̴̧̮̮̣̋͂̂̏͋̌ḿ̴̺͎̘͕̺̄͗è̷̪͔?̸!"

"Emil, let him go!" There's a heavy crack, this one not in glass. The god of the town, the eye of the storm, the ever-burning sun- they freeze for a moment, the storm still as they register the crumbling soil of their cheek. The soil their brother hit.

"... S̶̘̋ǎ̶͚͛m̴̱̰̎u̴̞͔͐̀ȩ̷̢͂͝l̴̝̃͗."

"No! No, he- You can hit me, please, don't hurt him-"

"Who the hell do you think you are," Samuel snarls, their sand burning in the heat. "What right do you have to stop him? What right do you have to hurt him?"

"He's m̶͕͋į̸̺̽̊n̷̻͎̕é̴͓̙̇." Emil responds sharply. "As y̶̭̞͌̒ỏ̴̠̈́u̷͇̓ are. As t̵̪̭̑h̸̨̺̚ĭ̷̹s̵̜͐̈́ ̵̖̱̏͊t̶͎̄́ͅo̷̟̦̾w̴̰͓͛͆n̴̯͝͝ is. He's m̴̲̓̎ĭ̶̤͝ṋ̶̿͝ẽ̴̙̭̃, he's m̴̦͚͝ẻ̸̗͚, I've given him s̶͍̣̓ỏ̸̯͕̄ ̷̱̠̈m̴̭̌ủ̴͓c̸̟̤̈́͐h̴̖͌̋ ̵̬̈́̅o̸̢̮̓͘f̸͔̰̀̈́ ̸͍͕̆͛m̵̠̕ĕ̸̩̱- does he think he can j̷̐ͅú̵̋͜s̵͔̳̕t̵͕́ ̸̭͕̽t̴͕̊̑ḥ̸̩̂ȑ̶̠o̵̫̚w̴͈̋̕ ̴̹̚i̵̞̯̊t̷̰̑͘ ̷̞͉̆a̶̦̓l̸̙̬͒l̷̥̪̊ ̷͎͂ḁ̴̃͂ẃ̵͓̬͗â̸͎͇͌y̸̤͈̆̀?̶̤́!̴͎͛"

"He doesn't belong to you. None of us do." Samuel glares down at them. "Emil... Don't you love him? Don't you care about him? Why are you putting him through this?"

"Ö̷̟̪́f̸͚͋ ̴̰̯͝c̵̬̯̀̀o̶͇̼͋͝u̸̖̜͋́r̸̲͈̒s̶͖̻̈è̶͎͚ ̸̢̅̇I̷̡̛̓ ̷̭͋l̷̪͂o̷̖̖̊v̵̢̦̊ȇ̵̪ ̷̥͝ḥ̴͂i̶͉͗m̸͕͠!̴̺̕̚ ̷̧͙̊̿Ḯ̸͎̺͝t̸͕͙̃̈'̷̟̯̓͗s̵̆͜ ̶̙͋ẃ̸͎̰h̷͈̖̓͒y̸͚̾̅ ̴̩̒I̷̱͂ ̷̡̛̈́c̷͇͌́a̶̳̥͌̊ň̸̲'̷̧́t̶͉̆ ̶̯̳̾l̵̹̩̈e̸̘̾t̸̥͈͒̆ ̸͖̎̂h̵̢̯͒̈́i̶̙̲̔̅m̷̩͙͊̍ ̶̹̅̈́l̴̰͔̐͌ę̷̠̄̄ă̷̢v̵̟̦́ẽ̵͖͓!̵̮̦̀͌"

"Bullshit." Samuel doesn't react even as the flickering light of Emil returns to blinding. "You love having him. And if that's the only thing you care about then no fucking wonder William wanted to leave."

It is still night. But no-one would be able to tell with how bright it's become.

"... You're lying." Emil says. "I̵͇͝ ̵̫͕̎̎d̴̟͒̉ö̵̙́̈́n̷͔͈̋'̷̥͐́t̴̊̈́͜ ̵̱̳̉͊b̴͎̯̌̕e̴̜̖͂̋l̷̦̗̽̚i̵̬̐ĕ̸̜̦v̵͍̣̓ë̴̻́́ ̷̜͒̌y̴̛̟̺ö̵͎̗́̄u̴̺̥̐̀.̸͙͖́̚"

And that's the last William hears before the dust storm engulfs him completely, with nothing but burning sunlight to watch him be worn away.

#ask to tag #flash fiction friday #flash fic friday #fff50 #writey asks #violence tw

[itsokaytobefreak]

a vampire’s nightmare (Prompt: Shattered Sunshine)

Hey! This is my very very short entry for this week. Thank you for all the awesome prompts, they where all so good and I think I’ll challange myself in trying the other three on my own :D @flashfictionfridayofficial​

(the title is so cringey and I’m sorry, but my goth butt couldn’t resist)

Her entire skeleton vibrated, her whole body shaken by the violence of the light. She never felt so consumed, so debilitated, so tired. 

She clamped her eyelids so tight that she almost made the little veins explode. The pain was too strong, it was like that sick light had made its way through her skull, melting her brain. 

She tried to hide, putting her head between her knees, crying out loud. She screamed with all the air she had in her lungs. The ache, the torment, she vomited it all. 

There was no reason for that light to hurt that much.

Over the sound of her desperation, she suddenly heard a rumble and then a crash, as if something was collapsing on itself. 

She choked her shouting and realized that she could now open her eyelids a little bit: the surreal sight of the cracks in the grey-mud sky as if it was made of clay and the sun, that radioactive sun that was shattering, crumbling, made her mind explode.

In a while, it would be all over soon.

#writing #prose #writing prompt #flash fiction #flash fiction friday #pain #short story #shattered sunshine #write #fff50

[onceuponanaromantic]

The Departure of the Shining One

(Written for @flashfictionfridayofficial​‘s FFF50 prompt: Mouth to Mouth. Set in one of my previous universes, which has been gathering dust, Black Cat of Hearts. Enjoy!)

You watch her, knowing that she’ll never love you back.

             You bring her clothes and you tell her that her sister is waiting in the forest at moonrise, and you don’t know what that means. You don’t know but you have seen the clothes and you can guess where this is going. You can guess that she is going.

             She smiles at you and tells you that she’ll be down in a minute once she changes. She removes the mask and you think that her voice suits her. Her face suits her, all darkened skin and beautiful twisting braids framing it and her lipstick is smudged a little bit from where her mouth touched the champagne glass.

             You want to kiss her even as you know that the cost of doing so will be a bittersweet reminder that you’ll have to carry in your heart long after she’s gone. She doesn’t love you, not the way you love her. She’ll never even notice you even though she’s been the one person in this entire kingdom that you look up to with respect and admiration rather than grudging acknowledgment. She’s the one person who you would give your heart to, if she ever asked it. She will never ask.

             You smooth out your own dress and head downstairs to distract anyone who might be looking for her. It’s the least you can do for her, though you know that she is far more skilled at distracting and misdirection than you. It’s one of the reasons that you admire her. The rest of the ladies of the court require fancy jewellery and elaborate dresses to show off their status. She could walk in with nothing but a rice sack and still be the most elegant and impressive.

             She never talks about herself. She smiles at you and you don’t know how but suddenly you’re spilling your life story to her and you never realise till later that she’s not said a single thing about herself. You don’t actually know anything about her. You’ve seen her around, once or twice walking next to another girl who greatly resembles a slightly younger version of her. You think she’s her sister, except her sister’s hair is always a mess and there are stains on her fingers. Their eyes are the same, both shining gold in the dark, and they have the same high cheekbones. You wonder how many siblings she has.

             You’ve known that you’re in love with her for a long time.

             You know that it’ll never happen but you want her to get poisoned. You want her to get into some form of danger and pain and have her heart stop or something, something that would make her require your help for something. You know it’s selfish and a terrible horrible thought and you don’t want to think it at all, but you want her to be in danger and in pain and you want to her to need your exclusive help.

             On an objective level, you know it’ll never happen. You know that there are whispers in court that her sister is a scientist and her older sibling is a doctor and you wouldn’t even be the first person she calls upon if you need help. Also, if she’s survived in court for this long, she probably can identify poison on her own and has her own defences against it.

             You respect that, even as you wish your help was needed. You lie in bed sometimes and think about convoluted scenarios where she urgently needs help and you’re the only one who can give it. You think that you’ll straighten your arms, lock your elbows and pump her heart. You’ll draw the poison from her, press your mouth to hers and take it away from her.

             She’s wearing the clothes you brought for her and she inclines her head towards you as she sweeps past you on the dance floor. The expensive wooden tiling gleams under the light, a show of extravagance, as you wonder where her previous clothing has gone. But this is her. If anyone was capable of strange and wonderful things, it would be her.

             You’re the last person to see her, and she winks at you from the doorway. Her lips curve into a mouthed ‘thank you’ and she blows you a kiss, before swirling off into the night. You don’t know and you of all people know that that’s not how it works, but you imagine catching the kiss and pressing it to yourself in a soft embrace. You imagine that the kiss blown to you is the soft smile of her lips against yours.

             You pretend not to know what’s happened to her or her family a week later when the court finally realises that Iridesca Carrow has left.

#bcoh #black cat of hearts #oh boy haven't written this one in a long time #flash fiction friday #fff50 #fff50: mouth to mouth #more to come i have Ideas

[inexorableblob]

Thirsty or not?

For @flashfictionfridayofficial​ on this day, this day of the fiftieth celebration, of which I’ve done some of them, some in ways that satisfy me, some in ways that didn’t, but I’ve enjoyed a fair number of the ones I’ve read, and as for the ones I didn’t, well, I’m not going to say anything.

Part of this actually came from a dream I had this morning,  but in the dream it had the nerdy kid from Step-by-Step being my secret semi-step brother in that his mother had married my mother’s ex-husband, and I wasn’t going to tell him who I was, but I knew, I knew.  That just didn’t work for any of the prompts, and so I had to go with something that fits the obvious one because I had to fix the typo!  Hah!

Anyway, enjoy it if you can.

The line of students moved steadily, each child shuffling forward as their food was dished out onto their plastic tray.  Except for me.  I held my sack lunch tight in my hands.  No slimy vegetables, no gross fruity jello, no mystery meat, not for me.

I wouldn't even take the cup of water off the shelf at the end, but I had no choice.  I never drank it, the taste was horrible, yet the principal had insisted I needed to have something to drink if I was thirsty.  Small chance of that happening.  He'd be really upset if I told him what I really wanted.

I sat down at the assigned table for our class.  The girl beside me was new.  This was her first day, and she had the sandwich offered students whose parents were behind in payments.  She hadn't known the school wouldn't take money from her wallet.  We weren't supposed to have any, not after last year.  

"But I'm not supposed to eat cheese." she whimpered.  "And I don't like mayonnaise either."

I looked at her, with her brown hair tied up in little pink bows.  She was cute, but that wasn't why I did what I did.  I just couldn't stand the fuss she'd make.

I took out my sandwich, and put it on the tray in front of her.

"Here, take mine, it's fine.  I won't starve."

She smiled.  Pale lips and missing teeth, she still pretty.  I hated myself.  

I had to take a drink from my thermos.  It was still warm and fresh.

Freshly drawn this morning.  A mix of my favorite types.

#Flash Fiction Friday #fff50

[enchanted-lightning-aes]

The Haunted Beast

A/N: Howdy, @flashfictionfridayofficial​, here’s my story for today’s prompt!!

Congrats on the 50th milestone, y’all! Thanks for letting writers share their stories, and you for hosting these events! ��🎉🎉

This is my first time participating in this, so here’s a character study featuring Claude. (Here’s a visual for how she looks like)

Word Count: 577

TW: smoking

***

A shadow hovered over a ground while a solitary figure stepped into a desolated area. Going past torn fabrics, battered surfaces, and broken wood, proceeding to a long path of a tarnished room.

Each item seemed to be destroyed by a ferocious monster, determined on unleashing it's anger. Nothing had been spared from it.

Cracking a grating laugh, she shook her head.

Melancholy kept her company, remaining loyal to her from the beginning. She glanced up at an intricate ceiling, unable to drag a hollow heaviness settling deep into her chest. With a lighter, she added a tiny spark of fire to the edge of a cigar.

It released some wafts of smoke and she puffed it, letting more out. Enough to get rid of an emptiness filling her up from within.

She stopped by a secluded corner, discovering a glassy facet staring back at her. It seemed to be a reflection, she thought, upon approaching it for a better look. She remained still, locking eyes with her own.

On a half-broken mirror attached to a grey brick wall.

Once upon a time, she had slammed her fist at this mirror, and punched it. Anger and rage consumed her as she concentrated on a rampage on objects in this ghost of a room.

Pulling the hood of her cloak back, she exposed lacerations across the right side of her face. She traced a line from her jaw to her chin with her bare scarred fingers, slightly shuddering at the sensation. The sight of it caused revulsion from anyone daring to look at her. In cracks of a shattered mirror, she saw nothing except a beast.

A person with several horrors and mistakes she could never undo. A ravaged face proved to be a price for all the wrong she committed. She didn't protest or deny it because the truth left her trapped in a cage.

Except Claude had enough time to move on from it. So, why was she miserable?

Emotions baffled the beast because of it's persistence of just 'being' there. Some didn't have an explanation or reason for happening, therefore it astounded her mind relying on logic.

Adding fire to the tobacco again, she huffed more smoke out. A rage simmered beneath her blood, only to be dissolved by raw misery. It struck her with any warning. Going to this room might have been a terrible idea.

Smoke flurried into the air, nearly grazing upon the edged surface of a mirror. It created a little mist, blocking out that hideous visage of the beast.

Lifting her hood on her head once more, she gazed off at a far-off distance.

She once despised to see herself on a reflection because she couldn't tolerate to see the monster that others could see. She had a long time to learn how to accept her scars, consequences of her actions, and to truly acknowledge it without bitterness. To try to be a person, who might be capable of being better.

Improving as a person helped her more than she could ever be thankful for.

Tension gradually left her while she let out a deep breath, gaining a steady rate. Within her chest, an intense ache grew in spaces of her heart.

Before she pulled out the cigar, she began shaking extra smoke around. It gathered into the entire room, nearly fading fragments of the past.

Turning around, the beast teared her gaze off from shattered ruins of the mirror.

***

#flash fiction friday #fff50 #writeblr #ocs: clawie #enchant: fanfics

[fields-of-ink]

[Image Description: two banners. The one on top has a black background with blue and red spots, the sentence #FFF50 Unusual Concoction is written in white letters in the middle. The second banner has a light pink background with rainbow-colored spots. The sentence #FFF50 Shattered Sunshine is written in black letters in the middle. End Image Description.]

Woo, 50th prompt! Congratulations on your milestone, @flashfictionfridayofficial​! Thanks for all you’ve done!

I had an hard time choosing this week. I mean, four prompts! In the end I chose two and this is the result.

Title: The Sun Tree

Warnings: None

"Oh, ugh. Zephyr, what on Atosk are you doing over there?"

The girl turned around, looking at her dismayed friend over the door. She was pinching her nose, her eyes watering. "Seriously", she mouthed. "What's this smell?"

"I'm sorry, Sorun", Zephyr chuckled, looking at the pot in front of her. "I know you don't like strong smells, but this is an important job."

"At least I hope it will be worth it."

"Absolutely. It's for the Tree."

"Do you think you can heal it?"

"You doubt me?"

"Well, no. But you know how it is."

Zephyr pouted, while she turned back to her bubbling pot.

                                                             - : -

The Sun Tree towered in the small cave. Its leaves glimmered in faint golden light, the trunk crossed by white lines. The tree deflated onto itself, curling up on the ground.

The cave's black walls reflected the faint light, a grayish mist pouring out of them, obfuscating the view.

The worshippers were kneeled beside the tree, desperate faces cupped in their hands, all of them jolting up at once when they heard the footsteps approaching. "The Magician has returned!" a whispered chorus of hope greeted Zephyr. "Do you have the medicine?"

"Worry no more, my friends", said the girl, rummaging in her bag. She took out a small bottle out of it, swirly green and yellow. The eyes of a worshipper lighted up: "Is this it?"

"I poured all of my knowledge into this", said Zephyr. "The Spirit of the Flora aided me in this job. I am positive it will work."

With a few shaky steps, the Magician approached the roots of the tree. They were frail and weak, white lines stuttering through them. Zephyr could hear the Tree whimpering under the curse of its stickness, and her hands trembled while she opened the bottle.

Please, please, she prayed. Let this work.

A few drops of the mixture crawled their way out of the bottle, until it all came down. The worshippers looked at the wet grass, swirly yellow lines slithering between the blades, until, like they had heard an invisible command, they approached the roots, envelopping them.

Zephyr's heart pounded in her chest, while she was looking at the leaves above. The air stood still. Zephyr was holding her breath, together with all the worshippers, their eyes up on the Tree's crown.

From the stillness of the sickness, the Tree started to move. The leaves moved upright, their light becoming stronger, golden like the sun.

The white lines crossing the trunk stopped stuttering, becoming stable and moving like an upwards river.

The Tree's colors seemed to become stronger, evaporating the gray mist, the black cave's walls becoming white.

The worshippers roared in delight and joy, while Zephyr fell on her knees, a smile on her face.

#fff50 #flash fiction friday #flashfiction friday #unusual concoction #shattered sunshine #my works #english #fantasy #writing #zephyr goes gardening #also did somebody say G L O W I N G T R E ES #mosas stories

[writingsfromspace]

VAGUE SPOILERS

731 words, The Stenotypist & the Dragonslayer

Prompts by @flashfictionfridayofficial​ - thanks and happy uh. Prompts-versary?

I’m very near the end of The Stenotypist & the Dragonslayer, so naturally that’s where my mind went :D I don’t think they’re actually fatal spoilers. But. They are set after the end of the story.

@adaparkwrites​

If someone had told Niu just a year ago, or a month ago, that niu would return to the city to study medicine, just like nius parents always wanted, niu would have laughed in their face, loud and, as nius parents would have called it, rude.

But here Niu was, and nius classmates had taken niu in faster than niu had foreseen. Niu never would have admitted it, but the warm welcome was giving niu fuzzy feelings. Niu hadn’t had much opportunity to mingle with people of nius own age in the past few years.

„Hey, Niu, did you - what kind of plant even is that?” Nius classmate frowned at the bunch of leaves niu was slowly grinding into a paste, treating nius concoctions with more care than niu usually showed anything else. Niu smiled quietly to niuself. If only nius parents had waited and let niu choose, they might have been allowed to savour nius choice with niu.

The smile blossomed into a reckless grin as Niu looked up at nius classmate. Living in the woods sure had had its drawbacks, but niu had also learned a thing or two, and now, being taken in so kindly, niu saw no reason not to share. „It’s dawnflower - I think it cools burns more effectively, y’know? Here, you can recognize them by…”

Duna stood on the city wall and looked out into the forest. The afternoon sun shone low through the branches of the ancient trees, sprinkling the floor as well as the wall with light.

So here they were. This was it. The city was safe now; safer, perhaps, than it had ever been. No one knew where things might go from here, but Duna was inclined to be optimistic.

She looked across the intricate knots and weaves the twigs of the tree just before her formed - since this morning. She had done this, echoing the patterns and energy of the talisman Niu had carried; but this version was big enough, carried by a strong enough being, to ward for miles in either direction. Among the artfully grown twigs, the sunlight was shattered into even smaller rays.

She smiled, allowing herself to admire her own handiwork. Yes, the city was safe.

Her gaze travelled on, and her smile spread. There was a whole new world to explore out there.

Iniria stood in front of the tall window of the living room, looking out across the city. She wasn’t sure how much longer they would be able to afford to live here, now, but that was the least of her worries.

Everything she thought she fought for, everything she had stood for so proudly for the last decades had turned out to be nothing but smoke and mirrors.

So here she was, wondering how life would go on.

„Mom?”

Iniria stood and painted a smile on her face as her older daughter walked up to her. The little girl frowned, not fooled for a second. She was so perceptive - Iniria felt her smile turn more genuine with pride.

„Is everything alright?”

Iniria looked down on her, then put an arm around her shoulders. She was a good liar, but her daughter was a good observer, and for nothing in the world would she risk her trust, least of all in the difficult times to come. People would talk. Kids her age would pick up half-understood adult talk about what happened. Iniria would do what she could to protect her children from the fallout, but she knew better than to expect it to pass unnoticed.

„Not right now. But it will be.”

And here they were, before all the world, after everything that had happened. It wasn’t like Vits was glad for the events of the past weeks - as far as he was concerned, he never needed to set another foot into the forest, and he somewhat hoped Braen felt the same - but if nothing else, it had certainly sorted out his priorities. He no longer cared who might see, or what they might think.

It wasn’t their first time, not by a long shot. It wouldn’t be their last - no, that much was clear now.

But standing there, chest to chest, mouth to mouth, soul to soul, it might have been the only kiss they were ever allowed to share, and this time, he allowed himself to get lost in it.

#fff50 #flash fiction friday #writing #writeblr #fluff #stenotypist and dragonslayer #vitsorin #braenar #dunae #iniria #niu #writings from space

[littlefireflylove]

Shattered Sunshine

Congratulations @flashfictionfridayofficial for this milestone. I tried writing something comforting and happy this time. Hope you all enjoy reading this short piece. 

-------------

Saw the same dream last night

You and I, driving in the steep, tree-lined road

Sun up, Sun out

One tunnel after the other

You roll down the window

As we enter the last tunnel

I laugh at our childish game

As your happy scream gets lost in the wind  

I glance at you, closing your eyes

As we reach the light at the end of the tunnel

I can feel you taking in a deep breath

As the light touches your soft, pale skin

My side of the road, the hard rocky mountain

Yours, the vast green jungle with tall enchanted trees

I take another glance at you and smile

As you open your eyes and reach out the window

Your hand dancing in the air

Flawlessly grasping the shattered sunshine

#fff50 #writing #dreams #shattered sunshine

[phantom-does-a-thing]

So I wanted to write something for this week’s FFF @flashfictionfridayofficial​because I’ve missed it every past week so oops.  My only thought was that Veo represents light and that technically counts as Sunshine.  So here, some thing from A matter of time and Roses

Veo stared out the window, his face displayed no emotion.

“Veo,” I started, putting my hand on his shoulder.  He didn’t react.

“What does it look like?” he asked, his voice harsh.  The room seemed to get darker.  I followed his gaze into the backyard.  The grass was withered and brown, like after all the snow melts in the spring.  But it was the middle of summer.

“The grass is dying,” I said.  Veo brushed my hand off his shoulder and turned away from the window.  His blue eyes swirled with emotion.

“What else is dying?” 

“The plants are dying,” I whispered, my eyes wide with shock.  It was slow and almost unnoticeable but outside, life seemed to seep from the plants.  I jumped as a bird dropped from the sky.

“I knew it,” Veo snarled, he clenched his hands into fists at his side, “he’s killing her.”

“Who?” I asked, even though I knew the answer.

“He’s killing my mother!” Veo shouted, light bursting in the room, I covered my eyes with one hand, waiting for the brightness to fade.  

“We’ll find her,” I promised, “he wouldn’t actually kill her.”

“He’ll kill her creation, he’ll kill us,” Veo’s shoulders dropped.  I peeked through my fingers, the light had dimmed but it was still unnaturally bright.

“What is going on down here?” Maribel asked, practically sliding down the stairs, followed by Jay, “what’s wrong?”

Veo crossed his arms in front of his chest, “we have to find her.  Where would she be?”

“I think I might know where she would be,” Jay spoke up.

“You were working for Father time,” Veo hissed, “of course you should know.”

Jay winced, his skin bubbling nervously, “didn’t you say that she had a flower shop somewhere nearby?  I don’t think that Father time would take the effort to take her very far,” Jay swallowed hard, taking a deep breath and his skin settled.

Veo didn’t say anything for a while, but the light settled around the room.

“Right…” Veo muttered, running his fingers through his hair, “you’re right… we should go there as soon as possible.”

I glanced back out the window, the sun started to dip past the treeline, “it’s only six…”  but one glance back at Veo explained most things.  

“She’ll be okay,” I insisted, putting my hand on Veo’s arm.  He didn’t pull away this time.  He took a shaky breath and nodded.

“Sorry for exploding like that,” he whispered.

“It’s okay.”

Veo rubbed his knuckles, “he’s going to be sorry.”

“I’m sure that he will,” I smiled softly at him.  Veo smiled back.

“Is someone dying?” Tyler exclaimed, bursting out from the basement door, his baseball bat in hand.  He was half-dressed, his jacket loosely hanging off his shoulders.

Maribel and rolled her eyes, “thanks for your help.”

“You’re welcome,” Tyler pressed his free hand to his hip and grinned.  Veo let out a slow breath and chuckled.

“No one is dying,” Veo promised.

#writeblr #flashfictionfriday #FFF50 #shattered sunshine #A matter of time and roses

[starklyscifi]

Bits of a Better Time

Congrats on 50, @flashfictionfridayofficial​! Took advantage of the multiple prompts and worked two in here. Love this weekly challenge. Enjoy!

She mused at the green, rolling valley in front of her. An ancient plaque, nearly worn smooth through the centuries, held few legible words. The only thing she could make out was it was a battle, with frequent mentions of smoke, something called a “canon,” and always capitalizing the words Union and South. That was important in this planet’s history, but that was as far as her memory carried her.

The battlefield on Ganymede had looked like that. Even through the sun visor on her helmet, the light had been blinding. Like it always was on space rocks without an atmosphere. Bigger wars being fought through proxies on small hunks of dust orbiting planets even Mankind with all their prowess couldn’t touch.

Rapid depressurization of weapon canisters, when hit with incoming projectiles, lefts a stream of white gas in the area. Not to mention the bursting suits. It seemed odd to stand here, in such a wide open space, sans suit, and think that the same thing had happened here, centuries ago. She could see soldiers running through the tall grass, ducking behind crumbling piles of rocks that may once have outlined fields. She only knew that because her last boyfriend had been an ancient history buff. Said he found it poetic.

She blinked, and the battle disappeared, leaving only the fog rolling in from the river. The edge of her vision shimmered red, as the implanted system warned of a hostile approach. She took the last sip of tea, balancing her mug on the old stone ledge around the plaque. The interruption to her midmorning meditation was expected, if reluctantly.

Male. Taller than her. Slim build. Wearing the clunky full helmet with its tinted visor. Which was the cheaper option for the company—easily transferable to new personnel. But they don’t work for a spy. Spies are expensive. She kept her eyes glued on the horizon until the last possible second. Let him think he was smart. Then she swept his legs out from under him and took off into the field, dodging bullets that never came.

So it was the messy way then.

He caught up to her halfway across the green expanse and he wasn’t nice about it. She felt something hard at her back and then tasted dirt and blood in her mouth. She rolled to her back, snapping out of his grasp and aimed a kicked at the center of his chest.

She blocked one punch, but his next one landed, sending her head spinning. A hand tightened like a vice on her wrist when she went in for the next one. She used the grip to pull herself up, and then landed a punch of her own, sending him back a step and something flying out of his pocket, glancing off her check in a blur of gold.

Ducking under another blow, she hit his chin hard, hearing something in her hand crack. It gave her enough distance to run, and she fully intended to take her opportunity. She turned and stepped on something. Glass and metal crunched under her boot. As she moved the black leather away, the sunlight glittered off the broken shards. A stopped watch and a bent hour hand that stopped ticking a long time ago.

She kept staring at the watch. At happy memories shattered in the sunlight.

“Well, look at what you did now.”

A familiar voice to go with the familiar, broken watch. She didn’t want to turn around, but she knew she didn’t have a choice. He’d taken off the helmet, tossing it into the grass.

“Why, the fuck, were you carrying that around on a battlefield?”

Ero sighed, getting down on one knee and starting to pick up pieces of broken glass. It seemed about right, like the watch was a better part of reality now that it more accurately reflected it. Of course, if she carried more of her own emotional weight rather than thrusting it on unsuspecting inanimate objects, maybe it would still be a whole watch.

“Think of it as setting the happy memories a drift in a pretty field,” Ero said.

“It was a battlefield.”

He wrinkled his nose. “That’s what I hate about this damn planet, everywhere you step, there was blood spilled.”

She couldn’t help the staring.

“What?” he asked, sounding as innocent as the world.

“You’re a fucking assassin.”

He grimaced at the word. He wasn’t a fan of the term, but she didn’t see much point in using poetic terms to cover up obvious facts. And that explained so much about the past. Too bad they couldn’t see that four years ago.

Ero pocketed pieces of the watch, looking out across the field and reminding her that she had known. She’d willfully chosen to be blind. It was easy, with his messy hair and his kind eyes. He didn’t look like an assassin—which was precisely why he’d been recruited. The same reason she’d been recruited. One for intelligence gathering, and the other to keep them in line.

“What a fucked up system,” she muttered.

“Says the woman who thought she could run away with company-issued implants in her head.”

“I kept it in mind.”

They stared at each, and there might as well have been the smoke of the battlefield drifting between them for all the clarity there was. The wind rustled through the grass. It had long ago stopped caring that this had been a graveyard once.

“I think deep down we both knew that it wasn't going to work,” she said, because she couldn’t stand one more second of the bright sunlight and silence.

“You could have told me your were a spy. We’d have had a better chance.”

Anyone else and she would have laughed in disdain. But given his line of work, he did have a need to know. She shrugged as a response.

“So what do we do now?” he asked.

“You’re the one who broke the watch.”

#fff50 #flash fiction #sci fi #science fiction #starkly mine

[onceuponanaromantic]

Everybody Knows

((Fourth Piece) Written for @flashfictionfridayofficial​‘s prompt: FFF50: Shattered Sunshine. Set in Hellverse. Enjoy!)

Everyone knows of the two immortals who haunt the school grounds.

 (Some say that they are in love with each other. Some say that they eat together at the café, and in the canteen, and if you are in school, late in the evening, you might see them walking together. Some say that the smiles they give each other are the sweetest.)

 There are two of them, that much is always clear. They have been there for as long as any of the students have known of them, and they will always be there. The idea of the school not having the vampire and the ghost is an absurd one. 

 (“SEPH!” The girl yells, panicking as the set-up bubbles and spits yellow solids. A quick hand reaches around the flask, pulling it off the Bunsen burner, regardless of the heat. The flask is quickly placed at on the bench, and the burner is shut off. 

 “You need to remember to add ceramic pieces next time before heating. If not, it heats unevenly and this happens.” A calm voice, tinged with humour, says. “Wait for it to cool for a bit and then put it back on.”) 

 No one knows for sure that one of them is a vampire and the other a ghost. The vampire, or the one they call a vampire at least, roams the school laboratories.

 The students in the Biology and Chemistry Research programmes know her well. She’s the one you go to when your experiments don’t seem to be going well, or when you’re frustrated. They say her name is Seph. 

 (“It’s okay. It’s going to be okay. Let me take a look at your methodology, okay? You’re going to be okay.” She strokes the student’s hair, leaning over to read the screen, having carefully cleared up the broken glass and disposed it. The sniffling continues, as she scrolls down. She hums a little, as her eyes scan over the numbers and steps. 

 “Hey, I found the problem. Your concentration is too low, so all you need to do is raise the concentration. And I notice you’ve been using the mortar to grind it? There’s a blender in the back.” 

 The sniffles stop. Seph smiles, and continues hugging the student.)

 There are so many stories told about her, all apocryphal. She once dyed her hair bright blue, and then ran out the school before the discipline mistress could catch her. She once went to Hell for a wedding. She knows two shapeshifters. No one has ever managed to verify any of them. As far as anyone knows, she’s a legend. She never says anything about herself, though you might catch hints if you’re in the right place at the right time.

 They say she’s like shattered sunshine, like the sun that falls through the lab windows in cracks and drops, and that you never actually see her out in the sunshine. They say sometimes she’ll see something and she’ll disappear for a while, and when she comes back, the ghost will be with her. They say you can always tell, because her eyes will widen and she’ll carefully put down whatever she’s handling and if you pay close enough attention, you’ll see her hands shake. They say that on those days, she won’t be seen for days, and the ghost in the Art Room will always be particularly sad on those days.

 The entire science department gets upset when she leaves, but she always comes back.

 For a being that should probably be associated with night, all anyone can bring themselves to think of is of the vampire in the sunshine. Not bright sunshine, but the dappled kind, the one that holds your hands and soothes you after the rain is over and you’ve been trembling from the thunder and the lightning. They say she knows, because she’s broken before and she’s been put back together.

 Everybody knows of the vampire in the laboratories and the ghost in the Art Room.

#flash fiction friday #fff50 #fff50 shattered sunshine #a match made in hell #Hellverse #seph #seraphim quek #aradhna #ahhhhh seph #god she's gone through so much