Prompt From @flashfictionfridayofficial

What's Bloodmage about? 👀👀👀

(I adore the title by the way)

Thanks for the ask! Sorry in advance for the ramble...

Oh boy, how to describe this one... (I will preface this story as insanity with plot. Most of the characters are severely brain damaged or willing to follow along with the crazies to keep them safe, and I love them all. )

An unofficial squad of soldiers and cryptids are trying to stop a vampire cult (who has infiltrated and overtaken a large world power) that plan to block out the sun and take over the world. All while a large war is happening in the background under the orcestration of the vampires. Most ordinary soldiers have no idea what is going on, and a collection of governing cryptids are trying to keep it that way.

After the squad is forcefully split up thanks to the trickery of the enemy leader, the medic of the group is in a plane crash while trying to reunite with the others. The wreck happens to land in a ritual cite put together by the vampires in an attempt to bolster their numbers with another type of volitile cryptid called bloodmages.

Caught up in the ritual, the medic is turned into a bloodmage, but he is one of the severely brain damaged characters and flasely concludes that he has been turned into a vampire. Unable to end himself with the traditional methods, he decides to find his fellow squad mates to continue their goal only to get caught up in another mess involving bloodmage politics.

Extra context: Bloodmages are beings who have been implanted with red blood crystals that are harvested from a deep pit known as the mouth of hell. After a long comatose incubation period the blood mages awake with enhanced durability/longevity and powers unique to their specific brood (powers have pretty significant variability with some potential for overlap such as the ability to make constructs, bombs, and weapons from their blood/blood they condense store up from others). Along with their other abilities, bloodmages are incredibly mentally unstable unless they have something or someone to tether them to reality. This makes them great short term soilders due to their drive for violence, but not for long term use as they tend to start attacking one another if they grow bored with easy combat.

Thanks again for the ask, I've been really bad about keeping on this one due to some hang-ups with the plot, but I love it to death :)

Thank you for the tag, @indoorghost

OC mood board tag game

It took me a while to get the pieces together.

This is a mood board for a villain of my Main WIP (working title) Bloodmage. His name is Luis :]

It's been a bit of a crazy year, and my procrastination has put me into a deadlock with this project (especially in the last couple of months), so any work I can get done on it is helpful. This was pretty fun. Thanks for the inspiration!

No pressure tagging

@renasdoodles @kuebiko-writing @creatrackers @somethingclevermahogony @laisley-writes @aalinaaaaaa +open tag

Thanks for the prompt @flashfictionfridayofficial

Short and not so sweet, but fun to write none the less.

Vocal Reflection

“It would be so easy Simon, just say it, and you can finally be free of them. Don’t you want to see the sun again?” The creature now only barely obscured by the murky waters spoke to him with honey coated words even as its hollowed eyes glared up at him hungrily. “Your lovely wife and precious child… Oh how lonely they will be when you don’t return. They would steal your life, but I wouldn’t take much Simon, not even a fraction of what you stand to lose here.”

“None of the others could hear me, do you know what that means Simon?” He was the only one who could know what name to call. “Yes, but you don’t have much time left without my help Simon. It’s a simple choice, we can both survive.”

“No” 

✨ What have we found...?

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Write between 100-1000 words. It can be any genre, in any text format and 18+ is fine by us, just please tag accordingly.

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

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✨ And now, the new prompt!

[#FFF 263 In The Meadows]

This prompt has been brought to you by someone who wishes to remain anonymous, thank you so much! What can we find lurking in the meadows? Perhaps it's somewhere that was and is no more? Are their flowers? Have they all but died? Is it a picnic? Or dandelions blowing in the wind? Whatever it is don't let it escape; write!

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The Collective <3

Thanks for the prompt, @flashfictionfridayofficial !

6936

Another random story based solely on the prompt. I hope you enjoy.

Warnings: Referenced Infidelity and Gaslighting

The flowers bloomed too early that spring, and an unexpected chill froze the golden buds even as they swelled with life.

Trudy stepped through frozen blades of grass, her bare feet blue from the cold. She didn't notice, couldn't feel her blood turning to ice with every step she took. 

The house behind her cast a looming shadow in the half light of morning. It had made her happy once, knowing that the old building cared for her. It cared for him more, though, concealing him protectively as he ripped her heart out over and over again. 

She had awakened twenty years ago, her power a simple enhancement of the senses, so trivial that she had been embarrassed to mention it to anyone. Too embarrassed to mention it to him. Trudy now wished that she had, he might not have brought so many mortals to their bed while she carefully tended to their garden if he had known. 

She'd done her best to ignore it at first, thrown all of her love on him, because she had loved him dearly, but with every self satisfied look cast towards her by departing mortals, a piece of Trudy’s love had been chipped away. 

"They are on quests, dear. I'm sharing my wisdom, allowing them a place to rest. I couldn't stand if these weak creatures were without guidance like your brother."

He always used her brother, always trying to make her feel like she was overreacting. It had worked before her awakening, but after she learned of his betrayal, it just made her bitterness grow.  

Stepping to the edge of the shadow, Trudy breathed deeply and stepped into the light. Her skin cracked under direct exposure. Even today, he had asked her to tend to the flowers, even today he had defiled their wedding bed. The finality of the action tipped the scales in her heart, emptying the last slivers of love from her soul.

Trudy bent down and picked a small bud, half opened and covered in frost. She'd watched this bud grow from a seedling, nurtured it through every stage of growth. It had been so full of life yesterday that she had already planned where in the house she would place it. Now, it would rest in her hair. 

With one last look towards behind her, the ice in Trudy’s veins turned to fire as a manic joy flooded every fiber of her being. Trudy had come to the property line six-thousand nine-hundred and thirty-five times before this one, but some sliver of affection had always held her at bay. 

Today, she skipped over the line gleefully. Disappearing from the home she had known for almost fifty years, with a long dead sense of wonder now burning in her chest. 

Unwanted Summons

***Chrrrrrrrrrrrrriiiiiiissssssssss***

Margaret struggled to open her eyes, let alone lift her head from the countertop. She'd somehow managed to make it out of the shower and to the kitchen without killing herself, a miracle in and of itself.

Still, deep down, she had hoped to at least be semi-finctional before interacting with anyone from work today, but with the coffee machine still sputtering away, it seemed that she had used all of her luck safely reaching her current resting place.

They could just hang up? Sometimes, they did when trying to call her before she came in.

***Chrrrrrrrrrrrrriiiiissssssssss***

...

***Chrrrrrrrrrrrrriiiiiiisssssssssss****

*Tsk*

Looking towards her clock, Margeret frowned. It was only ten forty-eight. Why was he calling her so early?

"Hello."

Without the jumpstart from her usual dose of caffeine, her tolerance was about as presant as her father, but John knew the risk of calling her when she wasn't on the clock.

"Is this Mrs. Margret Moore?"

Straitening into an upright position in an instant, her mind began to run wild after registering that she didn't recognize the monitone voice.

"What do you want?"

Pacing over to the dripping machine, Margaret poured as much as was ready into her mug and shoved the pot vaguely back in place to fill more.

While the voice may have been enough to temporarily scare her awake, that rush would only take her so far. She'd learned her lesson the last time she had fallen asleep on the phone, and it was still too fresh in her mind for her to repeat.

"You are to report to Station Seventeen within the next hour to identify one John Moore. If you do not comply, an officer will be deployed to escort you to the station in accordance with the compliance act."

Margaret opened her mouth to respond when the call was unceremoniously cut off.

"Blast it."

Station Seventeen was fifty minutes away from her apartment, but with traffic picking up soon, it was a toss-up if she could make it before they sent someone to get her.

Pocketing her phone, Margaret made a dash for her car, still holding the mug firmly in her other hand.

OC's favorite snack tag game.

Is there anything so undoing as a good snack?

What is one of your characters' favorite snacks, and why?

(I had this idea randomly and was suddenly very curious to hear about different character's choices on this topic) (If you feel so inclined to talk about multiple examples, I'd love to hear them!)

For my part: Owen the Medic

Favorite snack: chocolate chip cookies.

He wasn't originally a big fan of sweets, but one of the members of his squad started baking for all of them whenever they got the chance, and Owen discovered his love for warm cookies. He has gotten experimental with caramel and pretzels, but the classic chocolate chip always wins as it reminds him of the family he found during the war.

Tagging: @renasdoodles @davycoquette @kuebiko-writing +open tag!

Termination

Thanks for the prompt @flashfictionfridayofficial

Lan decides to make a move after learning that his deal with the council has been voided.

Warnings: Violence and death

“I heard an interesting rumor.”

Ripples cascaded across the wine soaked floor as council members looked up from their drunken revilry.

“It was such a silly little thing, but I knew that it was the perfect tale to end things on.” Water droplets danced around Lan as he took another step forward, once more disrupting the wine underfoot. “Besides, I just know you’d be interested to hear it.”

Several of the more grounded members began to stir, reaching for their stupid little bells with shouts of panic that only grew more desperate as the metal melted into puddles of burning liquid.

“Oh… Not interested then?” Streams of water began running from the ceiling, twisting together to form thin serpentine constructs.  “I guess there really isn’t a need to go over things.”

The serpents began to slither down the large pillars of the hall, quickly gliding towards their prey. Lan continued to advance, walking just slowly enough for his constructs to begin feasting. The council desperately struggled, arms harmlessly passing through the serpents' bodies, only serving to further entangle them. It was a wasted effort. Their fates had already been set in stone the moment they broke their word.

“Such a pity, Rue would have enjoyed this.” But the love birds would be busy, wouldn’t they? 

Half smiling, Lan stepped onto the platform, reaching out to one of the feasting serpents. It raised it’s head and quickly abandoned the others to gently offer up a gilded skulls it had collected. Blinking in surprise at the already smooth surface, Lan couldn’t hold back a chuckled. Even for pigs, their hides had been softer than he expected. 

Thanks for the tag, @seastarblue

Three facts about me

1. I have broken my wrist before

2. I love fantasy stories (but I'm good with most genres if the story interests me)

3. My favorite color is blue

Tagging in (no pressure)

@renasdoodles

@kuebiko-writing

@davycoquette

+open tag

Ah shit, I was gone for another ten days or so... Woops...

I finished editing during that time and am now currently taking a vacation from writing.

I should be doing some tag games now... Hehe...

God, why am I so bad at being active???

Recall

@flashfictionfridayofficial thanks for the prompt!

It's not my best, but I am tired and have done what editing I can.

While trying to come up with a suitable partner for the arsonists of my group, I realized that i had missed a golden opportunity and decided to capitalize on that.

Warnings for imprisonment, violence, starvation tactics, referenced abuse.

He didn’t have a proper name, at least as far as he knew. He was mostly referred to as it or thing since he’d been woken, but when the lights of the circus came on, he was Blaze the fire abomination, one of the wonders of the modern world. It took him many beatings and nights of starvation to associate with the name, but after a time he supposed it became what he was, without any memories of what he had been before, there was little choice for him.

Cold Iron poked at his side, disturbing him from his fledgling slumber. Looking up with bleary eyes at the cold disgust half heartedly focused on him did little to ignite the flame in his chest, but little by little as Blaze started breathing again he could feel the pumps in his chest turning up the heat until the metal encasing him glowed with an orange hue. Never enough to burn through the metal, they didn’t give him enough fuel for that, just enough to make a spectacle of himself.

His captor was saying something again in a frustrated tone, but Blaze wasn’t sure what he had done now, and he didn’t bother to try and understand their vulgar words anymore. When the door to his cage was indicated with another prod to his ribs, he moved towards the slowly opening gate. There was no point in rushing himself. They would just take that as an attempt to flee. As it stood, his supply of fuel was getting dangerously low, and if this persisted much longer, he wouldn’t make it through another winter. Everything was so cold already that he would be surprised if he made it to the end of the summer.

Sweat trickled down his captors face as Blaze stepped out of the metal cage, almost instantly setting the wooden boards of the stage ablaze. Grunts and exclamations of fear and confusion drove him back into the protection of his cage as he watched the fire being quickly extinguished and the boards being replaced by metal plating. It was all part of the routine. He just had to make it believable. So he mimicked the fear that they had trained him to exhibit and let out a roar of false defiance, causing members of the crowd to gasp in fear.

With a practiced motion, the end of his leash was quickly secured before his flames had a chance to properly ignite. The shackle on Blaze’s remaining arm had fused with his skin, making each tug the chain pull his wrist uncomfortably. He’d be paraded through the town again all the way to the circus grounds, and then he’d be put on display like every other town that he’d been to. To pass the time, he surveyed the crowd, making low grunts and growling sounds to elicit fear. His dull eyes flickered over the faces filled with fear and contempt until Blaze’s attention was suddenly drawn to a hooded figure exuding a strange smokey aura that stopped him dead in his tracks The sound of the busy street faded into dull echoes as the fire in his core began to roar louder than it had in years.

He took a step towards the hooded figure deftly pulling his chains along with him until he stood there instinctively straitening his twisted back until he was towering over them. At this, the figure leaned back its head, revealing a smile that made his roaring furness flicker with excitement.

‘you blaze like the sun’

A grumble of garbled words echoed from his soul as he tried to convey his admiration for this thing before him, but he’d been mute for so long he feared that the thing would fear him like all of the others. A burn scared hand shot out from under the robes, embracing his cold hands, sparking life into his withered bones.

“I accept.”

The figure let her cloak fall back to reveal a face twisted with scars, radiating a warmth that spread through him like a wild fire. The world was once more as it should be, burning in glorious flames. It was so simple, how could he have forgotten?

Introducing (drum roll) fire spirits (opposite of the forest guardians.