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Flash Fiction Friday - Blog Posts
Beautiful Things
@flashfictionfridayofficial prompt
Summary: A snippet of lore for the story I have been attempting to write. Pulling back from a crazy world, is it any suprise that the universe could be just as odd?
He’d watched over the small egg for millennia, protecting it from harm. It hadn’t been the only one. It was just the one that had yet to hatch. As the centuries passed and the number of guardians slowly dwindled, *** had chosen to stay. They had warned him that if the little one could not break its shell, then it could not last in the expanse, that its light was not worth protecting. *** had stayed silent and watched the other newborns hatch one by one, following the guardians into the expanse of space to learn of the universe and their place in it.
Guardians labeled him foolish while retreating, but *** waited for the child to form. He could hear the growing heartbeat through the shell getting slightly louder with every passing century until it was just as strong as the others who had hatched before it. Then he could feel its will and knew the child should have been strong enough to break its prison, but still, it did not act. After waiting for a century more, *** pressed his conscious forward to question the child. He asked if it required help breaking the shell.
While guardians were forbidden to interfere with the hatching, *** had been helped as a newborn, and he would not let this newborn rot because of tradition. Even through the shell *** could feel that despite what the others had said, this little one’s light would be something truly beautiful.
{I don’t want to go… I love these creatures too much to destroy them.}
Its voice was stronger than he had expected, but *** understood the newborn’s conviction. The creatures that lived on the surface of its egg were fragile beings that would not survive the hatching process. He’d watched countless species destroyed that way as he sat among the dying husks of empires.
Reaching out again, *** warned the newborn that if it did not hatch after developing, then it would surely parish. Then, after rotting, it would lead to the death of the creatures that it cared so deeply for. They had good lives, and they had been given millennia to grow and experience so much. *** explained that this was simply the conclusion of their natural existence, but he could feel that the newborn’s conviction did not waver.
{No… I have heard their song and it is too beautiful to be lost, so I will give them what time I can until my end comes.}
*** frowned and reached out a finger boring deep into the surface of the egg. If the newborn felt so strongly, then there was another way, but it would have to commit to a lesser form until it had seen the terrifying nature of the song that it longed to protect.
Pulling back, *** caught a glimpse of the newborn’s light through the opening he had formed and knew he could no longer watch the child if he wanted to respect its wishes. Without him, the newborn would be alone for the first time in its existence, and *** shed tears, which fell like stars smoldering in their dissent. *** knew its light would have been the most precious to behold, but its memory would have to be his alone.
{Thank you}
Stopping Time
@flashfictionfridayofficial
Prompt: FFF264 Counting Clocks
Info: Just a snippet from the villain of a project I am working on. Blood Mages are similar to vampires in that they deal with blood and are functionally immortal, but are notably a separate creature type in this story. They deal in insanity and explosive blood rather than drinking blood.
Story Warnings: Dealing with the death of a loved one and descriptions of blood/body horror. There is an image at the end that contains a dead body with detailed injuries.
Five hundred and eighty-seven clocks, only thirteen shy of another century. Passing his thumb over the face of an old model, Luis smiled at the memory of his love hurriedly rushing towards him with her prize. she'd given him one for every year they'd been together, and every time she presented it, her face would beam with an unfathomable joy, melting his heart.
From the gold chained pocket watch he kept in his breast pocket, to the towering grandfather clock in the corner of their sitting room, each device was a precious treasure that he cared for long past their intended expirations.
He'd always had a fondness for time keeping devices, but when his love started to give them as gifts, Luis had formed a bit of an obsession with them. For years he had derived great enjoyment in the constant task of winding them up, and keeping each one perfectly on time to the half second. It kept him content that he was doing something, and the constant need for routine had stopped him from going mad on more than one occasion while his partner was out hunting. In all of their time together the clocks had always been operational.
Now staring at the walls of clocks which had come to a standstill, Luis was haunted by the absence of their familiar ticking. She was gone, and with her, Luis had lost his anchor. It was a simple enough process to form another attachment, but five hundered and eighty-seven years couldn't just be ignored, especially when it had been spent with her. No, the position could only be filled by his love at this point.
Standing slowly, Luis ran a shaking hand through his hair as blood began to boil over and seep through his skin coating every inch of his body. He could feel her even now, a gentle wind resting on his shoulders keeping him from bursting at the seams. The witches would pay for their crimes and then he would be reunited with her one way or another.
"Please wait for me Love."
Skin peeled away as his form faded into the growing shadows. Luis, arbiter of his abominable race, once more, dropped the fragile veil of his sanity to hunt.
On the hunt for a new clock, Jade was attacked and killed by a group of tech witches. (It's a bit of a weird story...)
✨ Can you hear the clock ticking? Time is running down! You've got 24 hours to write something down!
Get our pens, open your laptops, FFF is here to inspire you!
✨ New to FFF? Let us fill you in!
Flash Fiction Friday is 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 prompt’s genre open, entertaining, positive and encouraging.
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.
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 (12 pm CET).
And then, next Friday, we’ll mention your work in a showcase post on our main blog before our next prompt drops.
Please post your entries as regular posts, not screenshots — or provide the text as a regular post as well. Let’s keep everything as accessible as possible!
We ask you to tag your works with any appropriate content warnings and let the reader know what they’ll find before they get the chance to read your work!
If you have a question, check out our FAQ page! If your question isn’t on there, don’t hesitate to ask!
You don’t need to ask for permission or need to get added to a list to join in. Just write, have fun and don’t forget to tag us!
We do not condone fiction, asks or comments that contain: direct hostility, unconstructive critique, LGBTQIA+ hate, slurs, racism and/or general no-no behaviors.
If you want to be closer to the epicenter, you can come chat on our open discord: https://discord.gg/rUWCE8a
✨ We also introduced our very own Wishing Well, a place for you to whisper your prompt suggestions into. And we’ll listen! Check everything about it out HERE.
✨All your amazing works from last week can be found HERE.
Go check them out and consider supporting your fellow FFF writers with some likes and reblogs!
✨ And now, the new prompt!
[#FFF264 Counting Clocks ]
Why are there multiple clocks? Why are they being counted? Is time running out? Is it just a simple clock maker's daily task? Do the clocks bring distress or relief or something else? Get writing and let us know! Go, go, go!!!
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The Collective <3
Clarity
@flashfictionfridayofficial
FFF263 In the Meadows prompt
1317 word count (I'm sorry it's a bit over... I tried condensing as much as I could.)
CW: violence, referenced forced drug use, a bit of body horror, and dehydration.
Summary: Maren wakes up in an unfamiliar meadow with a clear mind after years of living under a fog.
On an island surrounded by great forests sat a meadow hiding from the ocean. Laying among the blades of grass that swept by her like waves on the ocean, Maren woke in a state of listlessness. She was utterly exhausted, and without the aid of the deep to facilitate her navigation, she was stuck against the cool earth, blind to all but a gentle warmth on her skin.
Usually, she was quite sluggish between hunts, struggling with even the most basic of thoughts, waiting until they charged the water with those fowl drugs, sending her into a frenzy. Occasionally, she would have bouts of clarity, usually just long enough to witness the end of her hunt, but now it felt like her mind was sharper than it had been in years. With this new freedom, Maren’s thoughts drifted to the fathomless depths of what had until recently been her home.
With a clear mind, Maren did not remember it with the fondness she had felt when her brother was given the opportunity to show his devotion to the queens, or in the reverence that had surged through Maren’s entire being when her sister was accepted as a royal guard.
‘Oh how fortunate you are, Maren, to have been bestowed with the favor of our queens.’
How many lonely nights in the empty nursery had she prayed for such a thing before her naive devotion had doomed her? No, she had long lost any reverence for their tyranny, and her thoughts of that place had turned just as rotten as her limbs in the burning darkness of the mines.
Musing about her isolation, Maren could see herself for the pawn she had been. Her mother had warned her long ago, but the queen’s guard had claimed her mother was a traitor, not to be trusted. She had been ripped away from Maren before those precious lessons could be ingrained properly, and so, like a fool Maren had fallen for every lie they’d fed her, burying the barbed hook of their deception deeper into her throat until she wasn’t even a shell of what she had once been.
Another gust of wind swept by, drying her skin. Despite her newfound clarity, all of these revelations were little comfort in the face of her demise. Maren would have laughed at the irony if the queens had left her a proper mouth. At least death didn’t seem so painful as the screams of her victims had made it sound. The executioner, the being that even the queens had grown to fear as a monster, was going to die, dried up on land like some hapless fish that had unwittingly beached itself.
If there had been a higher power, and her wordless prayers had been heard in the darkness of her isolation, then maybe she had been spared from living in that hell any longer. After so many years of being a puppet, Maren wouldn’t be picky about the means of her salvation, and this was already too grand a fate for a monster such as herself. After all the innocent lives she had taken in the name of the queens, she deserved a far greater punishment. She accepted this death and was glad she could greet it in her own right mind.
As time continued to pass, Maren could feel her muscles gradually beginning to shrivel down as her breathing became ragged and the warmth against her skin continued to sap the life from her veins. Maren’s mind was fluttering away, split between fragmented memories of faces she could barely recall, until she felt something warm suddenly pressed under her scorched skin, lifting her up from her grassy resting place. The sudden shift cracked her skin at odd angles, causing sharp spikes of pain to run across her body, but she made no effort to move. Even with the sudden sensation of a beating heart coursing underneath her, the dehydration was too far along for Maren to comprehend anything until she suddenly lost track of the pulse and felt water enveloping her.
WIthin seconds of being submerged, her cracked skin healed over, and she began to explore the area, exhibiting a level of curiosity she thought had been lost to youth. A strange sense of wonder overtaking her foggy reason. Once satisfied with her findings, Maren turned her attention to the surface, she could sense another presence, and her newfound curiosity drove her to inspect.
“** ****, ****** *****.”
It was a strange chirpy language, nothing like the deep bellows she was familiar with from the Briney Court, but not entirely unpleasant. Even if she couldn’t understand the words, at this range, Maren was fairly confident when it came to gauging intent, and the voice sounded relieved. The emotion confused her, and after a brief hesitation, Maren found herself getting closer to the edge in an attempt to form a connection with one of her functional arms.
As Maren’s arm came in contact with an outstretched hand, she felt her limb quickly entangle the arm above to establish a connection. A flood of information cascaded freely into her mind as Maren saw the world through this creature’s eyes and understood his feelings, at least on the surface.
It wasn’t a skill she relied on, and had only resorted to it as a form of interrogation or out of pure desperation from isolation in her moments of clarity, and on every occasion she was met with a flood of negative emotions that were strangely absent here. Interested to find out more, Maren decided that it would be good to spark discussion with the creature so she could properly take in the terrain from the stranger’s eyes and enjoy the strange company she found herself in.
“Why am I here?”
She could tell he was quite shocked by her sudden intrusion into his mind, and flinched, waiting for him to pull away, but unlike the fear or anger that she had so often experienced with her own kind, the individual seemed more amused than anything.
“The tank you were being transported in broke open in the crash, I think? I was worried that I ate everyone, but if they were transporting you like that, then they probably deserved to die anyway...”
There was more that he wanted to say about that, but he stopped. There was no reason to pry about his eating habits, but at the mention of a tank, Maren quickly skimmed through his latest memories, carefully extracting what she was looking for. It was more of a glass coffin filled with stagnant water and salt crystals as far as she could tell. Frustrated by the torturous design, Maren pulled away, severing their connection while trying to remember how she could have ended up in such a thing?
“* ***** *** *** **** **** ********.”
The unintelligible words once more filled her mind, pulling it away from the putrid memory. Wondering if he had any more information about the situation, Maren quickly re-established the connection and caught his assumption that she had been kidnaped. A laughable conclusion, but he didn’t know any better. No one made it in and out of her cave alive, not while she was on the hunt, it was more likely the queens had drugged her last victim with something stronger than usual and tried to dispose of her for good. Though why they would go through all the trouble of shipping her in a glass coffin was a complete mystery. Whatever their intentions, there had been an intervention of some sort, and those involved had been properly taken care of.
“Thank you for saving me.”
A warm sensation spread through the connection as he exhibited genuine happiness at her remark. The surge shocked her slightly, but she found that it was an easy sensation to get used to. She had been given the salvation she longed for, and this creature had been the instrument to accomplish it.
Note: This is Maren after years of experimentation, all in the attempt to make an eldrich creature artificially. I use the term arms in place of tentacles because tentacles sounded a bit weird when I was writing it, and 'arms' has been used as an acceptable term, so I just went with it instead. Sorry for any confusion.
✨ What have we found...?
It's a new Flash Fiction Friday!
✨ New to FFF? Let us fill you in!
Flash Fiction Friday is 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 prompt’s genre open, entertaining, positive and encouraging.
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.
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 (12 pm CET).
And then, next Friday, we’ll mention your work in a showcase post on our main blog before our next prompt drops.
Please post your entries as regular posts, not screenshots — or provide the text as a regular post as well. Let’s keep everything as accessible as possible!
We ask you to tag your works with any appropriate content warnings and let the reader know what they’ll find before they get the chance to read your work!
If you have a question, check out our FAQ page! If your question isn’t on there, don’t hesitate to ask!
You don’t need to ask for permission or need to get added to a list to join in. Just write, have fun and don’t forget to tag us!
We do not condone fiction, asks or comments that contain: direct hostility, unconstructive critique, LGBTQIA+ hate, slurs, racism and/or general no-no behaviors.
If you want to be closer to the epicenter, you can come chat on our open discord: https://discord.gg/rUWCE8a
✨ We also introduced our very own Wishing Well, a place for you to whisper your prompt suggestions into. And we’ll listen! Check everything about it out HERE.
✨All your amazing works from last week can be found HERE.
Go check them out and consider supporting your fellow FFF writers with some likes and reblogs!
✨ 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