Short Story: Green
Short Story: Green
The end of the world happened slowly; as most things do. The plants began to disappear—one by one becoming extinct—too gradually for the general public to take seriously. When they did notice, humanity shrugged it off as the natural cycle of things.
And then it was the animals. That was harder to ignore.
It was the pollinators first, of course. Without their help, much of the flora could not proliferate as they once had. The lack of sunlight, of fertile soil, of bees or butterflies or hummingbirds were the beginnings of the end. Grassy meadows became barren deserts and lush forests became wasteland littered with twigs and branches—the corpses of once-mighty trees. Green became a lost color.
There weren’t many humans left when Zoe found hope and began her journey. The last human interaction she had was years ago to a man dying of smoke sickness; a common story for the few still alive. The ever-smoking towers brought industry, jobs, prosperity for a while…before they brought illness and death.
Over time, the smog and ash the towers spewed blocked out the sun, displaced the air, and changed the color of the world. Those who inhaled too much of the toxic fumes died slow deaths. Many grew up breathing it, assured by charismatic politicians that it was not harmful. They didn’t want to see past the lies; humans were an optimistic species after all.
Zoe walked past one of the many ever-smoking towers—still spewing death into the air—and took a moment to gaze at the darkened sky. She wondered what the sun might have looked like; what it still might look like hiding behind that veil of black and gray. There were stories, of course, but she liked to imagine that the sun was green.
With one hand, she adjusted the breather that sat over her nose and mouth, clutching a small egg-shaped container in the other before continuing her stroll, stopping at at a flickering metal box that matched her in height. An oxygen vending machine.
She had stopped by every O vendor she had come across in her years-long journey. Air was something she could not afford to let run low. Her expedition was a long one and she didn’t even have a notion of when it would end. It was better to refill her breather as often as possible before there would be nothing left; when soon—she assumed—there would be a large stretch where there would be no more O vendors to provide breathable air. She didn’t know when or where, but she knew it was inevitable. There were only so many O vendors that could have been put up before the smoke sickness claimed too many lives to justify the expense and many were already running low on supply.
She inserted a plastic card into the machine and fresh air was pumped into her mask. She breathed it in appreciatively, taking in the slight chemical smell of the original container and wondered what air from plants smelled like as she crossed empty streets and passed more ever-smoking towers.
Her destination was far but she was almost there; or so she hoped. Just a little farther, she kept telling herself, repeating it every so often. Her personal mantra.
She held the little container close to her, afraid that she might lose it; that it might slip and tumble down somewhere she could never hope to reach; that it might wither before she got to the one place in the world the sun was said to touch. The Sunpatch she had been seeking since she had found the egg-shaped thing—her hope—that she carried with her.
She had walked for so long with no direction save for the little information she had managed to gather after so much research on the Sunpatch. Much of it were rumors that lead to dead ends, others were educated guesses when information was obviously incomplete. She hoped to the hidden sun that the one she followed now wasn’t another dead end. It was her last lead and she was so old and so tired.
Her elderly legs hurt and her feet were numb from so much walking but she soldiered on as always. Zoe was determined to get the little egg-shaped thing to the Sunpatch no matter the cost to herself.
Her journey was a lonely one; solitary but never by choice. Often she wished that she could have company; another of her kind. The egg was a good listener but not much for conversation. Had the world not ended, her conversations with egg would be seen as madness but there was no one now to judge her.
For years, she trudged through desert and dead forests and broken cities and rock fields. She searched every used-to-be settlement for survivors—but always found no one—and stopped by every defunct food store to stock up on liquid snack cakes, bottled water, and portable air cans. On rare occasions, she even found running water in the long-abandoned cities. In those, she had the luxury of a quick bath and change of clothes. This wasn’t one of those cities.
She chose a building that looked to be in good shape and tried the door. Locked. A quick glance around found her some rubble; pulled up concrete from a sidewalk.
The aging woman lifted the heavy fragment and hurled it at the window, shattering the glass in an explosive cacophony of clinking, clanging, and crashing. No one will care about a broken window. No one is here to care.
She swiped the opening with a balled up rag, sweeping away bits of broken glass before carefully climbing in; agile despite her age.
The space was lined with mostly-empty shelves that made little paths. Zoe noted these as she passed the counter with an old register caked with dust sitting on top of it. It must have been a corner store once.
She searched and found a few bottles of liquid snack cakes and water. No canned air, unfortunately. Whomever owned the business—or perhaps survivors that had fled the city in search of better homes away from the towers—had taken most of the supplies before they had gone.
Opening and attaching one of the little bottles of liquid snack to her breather via a short, thick straw, she sucked on the meal, reading the text on the bottle. She had read them a million times but the mind needed something to keep from going mad and with the world so empty there weren’t many options. “Now with 50% less fat and 100% more calories!” it claimed. What a load of ash.
Zoe rested well that night before awaking to bottles and cans strewn about the former shop. Wakefulness came slowly and she didn’t notice the peculiarity of the out-of-place things at first. It was after a few blinks that it registered. “No! No no no! Where is it?!”
Her heart skipped a beat and she went into a frenzy looking for the little egg-shaped container; missing from the rotten pillow where she had left it before falling into an exhausted slumber. She dug through her rucksack, searched every nook, every cranny, and under every store shelf, but found nothing but rubbish.
The floor was sticky from spilled snack cakes, their bottles chewed by the incisors of a small creature. She had no guesses as to what it could have been but it had left a trail of liquid-snack footprints to follow and so she got to tracking the thief.
The tracks lead her to the store’s backroom; dark without electricity to light the way. She squinted, backing up a bit to where there was light enough to see as she rummaged through her pack and pulled out a small metal flashlight. She shook it a few times, and then flicked the switch on its side. The beam of light flickered before holding steady.
She ventured into the dark room, sweeping the light beam from side to side in an effort to continue tracking the creature that pilfered her hope. The backroom was in worse wear than the store’s front. A thick blanket of dust and cobwebs covered just about every surface that wasn’t disturbed by a certain little thief. Zoe found the footprints again etched into the dust and followed them, taking care not to step on any of the impressions.
They lead her to stairs going down to a basement darker than the backroom. She gave her flashlight another shake before venturing the stairs—step by cautious step—holding the railing as she moved down. The old wood creaked under her weight and she feared that she would fall through, break her neck, and die in a dusty dark basement under an abandoned store in a long-forgotten city. For much too long, she tested every stair before proceeding.
Her feet found purchase on solid concrete ground fifteen minutes later. She swept light over the new room slowly, almost missing the bundled fur in the corner. There it is!
The rat turned when the light touched its black fur and hissed. Behind it was the egg-shaped container that Zoe had been looking for; a bit scratched up but otherwise fine.
She crouched down on creaky knees and attempted to reason with the animal, “Come on now, I need that.”
The rodent responded with another hiss, back fur prickling up.
Slowly as to not make any sudden movement, she retrieved a bottle of liquid snack cake from her bag. “How about a trade then?” She twisted the lid open.
The rodent watched her intently, the over-sweet smell of liquid cake entering its nostrils and masking every other scent in its tantalizing aroma. It wiggled its nose in satisfaction as it began to salivate.
“You like that don’t you?” Zoe cooed, removing the lid completely. She poured a small amount of the contents onto the floor in front of her, “Come on. I know you want it.”
The rat hesitated before cautiously approaching.
She poured more liquified food onto the floor, pooling it up for the little scoundrel.
Temptation and instinct overwhelmed the rodent and it scurried to the food. It lapped up the thick batter; greedy from hunger.
The human added to its meal, pouring a bit more for it before righting herself and walking around the rat to the egg. She bent down and retrieved her hope up off of the floor, giving it a quick inspection under her flashlight when she was standing again. “Well, you didn’t damage it too much…” she said to the hungry rodent, “I’ve got to go now, little rascal. Enjoy your meal.”
She carefully made her way around the sticky mess and the rat to the foot of the stairs and frowned at it, annoyed at having to climb back up. Fear began to well up in her at the thought of falling and so she took a moment to breathe, steeling her nerves for the ascent. I made it down all right; I can make it up again…
The rat squeaked then, interrupting an otherwise still scene. She turned her light on it as it ran in a circle once, twice, and then scurried to the shadows of the back wall. “Where are you going?”
The rat squeaked again as Zoe realized a bit late that this rodent is the first sign of life she had found in her travels in years. She had been too focused on retrieving her stolen hope that she had nearly missed the fact that this creature survived the smoke-sickness that was choking the life of nearly every living thing…and it wasn’t wearing a breather. Here?! No…we’re too close to towers…but it has to breathe somehow…
She touched the latch of her breather, tempted to remove it to see if perhaps the air was breathable here, but she thought better of it. If I die here, it’s over for real. There will be no hope left…Some animals had adapted to breathe less air and this rat was probably one of them. She couldn’t be fooled by it.
Instead, she followed the rat deeper into the dark; hand outstretched, shaking the flashlight every once in a while as if it would keep the battery going.
It wasn’t long before the rat lead her to a hole in the wall just big enough for Zoe to crawl into. The old woman sighed and considered turning around. The rat squeaked impatiently at her before scampering into the tunnel.
Against better judgement, she latched the flashlight to the shoulder strap of her pack, slipped the egg into one of its more secured pockets, and got on her hands and knees.
She crawled through the tunnel, surprised that it didn’t narrow or end so abruptly. Someone must’ve dug this before they left the city. Stinging pain throbbed in her old knees as she continued shuffling forward, following a used-to-be common pest through a tunnel under a convenience store.
The passage was longer than Zoe had ever expected an improvised excavation could be. She had to stop and take breaks, maneuvering herself into a more comfortable laying position every so often to rest. It lead deep into the earth before steadily slanting upwards; so gradual that Zoe hadn’t noticed until light shone through ahead of her.
Eager to escape the cramped walls, she quickened her crawl toward the light. She didn’t know how long she had been shuffling in the subterranean tunnel but she guessed from her backaches and bruised knees that it must have been a while.
She pulled herself from the hole, moving dirt and small rocks as she surfaced. The light was blinding after some time in underground darkness and her chest was starting to feel tight. She had enough air for at least another day! Surely she hadn’t been traversing underground for that long! But she was gasping for air, struggling to fill her lungs. Her breather was running low.
Panic starting to intrude on her psyche, Zoe desperately scanned her surroundings. Massive dirt and rock walls bordered her from the outside world. Stalactites hung from the earthen ceiling above, drops of water falling from their tips in rhythmic succession. She found herself in a vast cavern of sunken earth; nowhere near an O vendor.
All of this for nothing…because of my foolishness…because I followed a rat of all things!
As if in response to her distress, a whistling gust of wind—gray particles dancing within it—embraced Zoe in its cooling hug before racing up toward an opening in the ceiling, blowing out of it like a volcano and parting the endless gray-black clouds of the ever-smoking towers. It was from that opening that a beam of yellow light pointed to a single circular patch of yellow-green before dissipating a moment later.
Zoe’s eyes widened at the sight; brief but certain. She had been searching for so long and here it was; hidden under a city, under ever-smoking towers that blocked from view the few moments of sun that managed to touch earth periodically when upward wind broke black clouds. She stifled tears as she approached the Sunpatch.
Reverently, she held the egg-shaped container in both hands, dropping to her knees before the little patch of life. With shaking hands and burning lungs, she set the egg aside and began to dig, clawing the earth with bony fingers until she was satisfied with the divot she had made.
Dizziness was setting in as she lifted the egg and popped it in twain above the little hole, dropping a singular ball—smaller than her fist—into the exposed earth. The tightness in her chest was nearly unbearable by the time she buried the seed.
Her life’s mission finally complete, she smiled with satisfaction; with all the love and hope she could possibly give to the world. As the wind returned, quickly flying toward the opening in the ceiling, she laid her tired body down and faced the beam of sun as it came in for another few precious moments. Her air had run out and the world was closing in around her; replaced by an overwhelming serenity. The tension left her body, smile softening but never vanishing as she stared at the mound she had created and the brilliant streak of dusty yellow light that caressed it.
The sun wasn’t green but it was beautiful.
Originally published on renalawhead.com on July 22, 2024
Dividers by @saradika-graphics
More Posts from Ruvastuon and Others
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.
Heads Up, Seven Up
Share 7 lines from one of your WIPs
Thanks for the tag, @renasdoodles
I haven't reached the editing faze of my WIP yet, so you just get the unedited insanity that it is at the core.
Taking a deep breath, Owen released his hold. Maren had finally calmed down once he got her out of the water and rested.
Well calmed down in the fact that she was currently unconscious. He still had to go off into the woods to look for anything that could help fight the withdrawal symptoms.
This was fun. Thanks for the tag!
No pressure tagging: @kuebiko-writing @davycoquette +open tag
Choices
@flashfictionfridayofficial prompt
Summary: Tori, a loyal soldier, has his alegences tested and finds that his loyalty to his country isn't as strong as he first believed.
Finally, a Tori Story. We're getting the perspective of another in the rag-tag squad of my WIP.
Chapter warning: referenced violence, violence, killing, referenced torture, and the picture at the end shows violence and injury.
Tori had been raised like all of the other able bodied children in his village to be loyal soldiers. He killed and maimed without regret, without hesitation because the people that he was sent after were the enemies, and if he wanted to keep himself and others safe, they needed to die. He wasn’t a sociopath, they’d tested him for that. Tori was just someone who had long ago reconciled that he could live with himself. He could wait for regret if he ever made it to retirement.
He had never questioned orders, been a faithful dog, and he had planned to remain like that until the evening when he received a new set of orders. This time, he wouldn’t be hunting down a traitor or ripping the life from a target. This time, he was capturing something. He’d never been ordered to capture something alive. He’d never had reason to.
The creature in question was suspected to be some type of extra-terrestrial, an invader to their planet. He didn’t need to question his orders, and he’d never had reason to up until he laid eyes on the creature. The moment it had looked up at him with eyes that seemed to contain galaxies, everything became complicated. Then it had saved him. That was the only reason they had managed to apprehend it, and now he was haunted by the low bellows of its pained cries.
The creature never spoke, but its voice rang through the minds of its captors. The other’s in charge of watching the creature found the sound to be soothing or funny, but he couldn’t help but feel a hollow pang in his guts as the underground facility was flooded with the creature’s cries for help.
He couldn’t understand what the sounds were at first, but the more time he spent focused on them, the more clearly he could hear it calling out for something, begging for its freedom. When they had found the creature it had been hiding among a pack of wolves, peacefully living out a life of serenity, and now it was being poked and prodded by the deft hands of his own people, all in the name of some strange advancement that made no sense to him no matter what argument they gave to convince him.
Tori was off duty when the storm struck, when the sirens blared so loud that he was woken from his drug induced sleep. A sharp pain throbbed behind his eyes as he slowly rose to his feet, mind instantly turning to the creature. Had it escaped? A part of him hoped that it had, but then a sickening feeling crossed through him as he thought of what means the other guards might use to contain the creature.
If it were in better shape, but the creature was kept on the brink of life and death to avoid such situations. Gripping his gun tightly, Tori rushed out of his room, an idea springing so suddenly into his mind that he wondered if it had been planted there.
He could get the creature out of here, he could rectify his mistake.
His heart tightened at the idea. If he had a chance to free it, then Tori already knew what he would do. He had been far too deeply influenced by its song and eaten by newfound guilt to choose any other option.
The sound of a struggling guard rang out from the main lab as he approached, and Tori hesitated before carefully peaking around the door frame. Two hulking figures near the shattered containment cell instantly turned towards him. An operation? No, they were wearing POW uniforms or what was left of them, not only that they were quite battered as well. So why were they here?
The female POW tightened her chokehold on a guard, and Tori watched as the man suddenly went limp. Raising his gun, he wasn’t so foolish to enter the room with the POW’s even if he was armed. Catching sight of the creature that he had been so concerned for held gently in the male POW’s arm, Tori felt his heart hitch. They had come to free it?
The sudden realization hit him like a bullet. They were here to do the job he hadn’t been able to. Even if he could have made it out with the creature, he couldn’t protect it after what he had done. Even with his mind made up, every ounce of his training fought against him as he lowered his gun and moved to the side.
“Go down this path, and you can reach an exit outside the camp.”
He wasn’t wearing his proper uniform at the moment, but they could likely tell what he was, so there was no reason for them to listen to his words, but he had to try.
The POW holding the creature over his shoulder straightened up and smiled broadly. It was a stupid grin that lacked the usual grit that he so often seen in the eyes of soldiers.
“You got it boss man.”
He winked suddenly, and Tori was so confused by the gesture that he barely noticed the woman glancing between them before a look of realization seemed to dawn on her.
“So no more killing?”
She seemed disappointed by that, but the male POW patted her shoulder gently.
“It’s okay Ember, boss man called the shot, you couldn’t have burned them with all this water anyway.”
It seemed to satisfy the woman who released her final victim and followed the man past Tori with a matching nod of recognition.
Standing for a moment in silence after they had left, Tori tried to make sense of what had just happened. Their behavior was far too strange, too irrational, but he supposed all that mattered was that the creature was safe. He would miss it’s presence, but if it would no longer have to cry in pain like that anymore, then He had done was required of him. As the song of its voice faded from his mind, Tori felt a sadness sink into his bones as he settled back onto his cot. He wouldn’t allow himself to be sad knowing that the creature’s cries had finally been quieted. With a strange peace that didn’t feel deserved, Tori fell back into a dreamless sleep for the first time since the cries had begun.
Empty
Random writing??? Who knows where it came from.
How was it that when he looked into his memories, all that stared back at him were blurred fragments?
He felt that there should have been something concrete there, something to cement him down as whatever creature he happened to be. Shouldn't all creatures capable of thought at least have that much?
Gripping the side of his head in frustration, he stood from the cold ground and stumbled along in the darkness, his vision just as blurred as his memories. A part of him knew this was wrong, that he should know something specific, but like a shadow dancing at the very corner of one's vision, the thing seemed to fade whenever he tried to bring it into focus.
Did he even want to know what he was? The idea bored into his mind like a worm making him question the only purpose he had managed to latch onto. Like some cruel tyrant it seemed determined to smother his confidence in the matter, making him all the more egar to pursue what he was.
There was something in that he supposed, some drive that he hadn't been aware of the moment before. It appeared that for whatever else he might be, stubborn was a part of it.
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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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.
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The Collective <3
Something Shiny
Thanks for the tag, @flashfictionfridayofficial
Warnings: mild body horror, altered mental states, mild nudity (nothing too explicit, but I figured I should mention it)
Wren watched in quiet longing as the carriage grew smaller in the half light until it was nothing but a dull glimmer in the distance. They’d rejected her again. She’d been so good too, doing all of the chores and following every rule down to the letter, but it wasn’t enough.
Looking down at her ruined dress, it felt foolish to have hoped things would end differently this time. If she had just stayed quiet then perhaps her sister’s dress could have at least been spared, but this of all event had just been too tempting to not at least ask. Was it so bad for her to have fun sometimes? She had proven that she could behave, and it wasn’t like she wanted to see a stupid prince anyway. Watching the glittering stones dance across people’s throats was all the entertainment she’d need for at least three months, and maybe if she was lucky someone might lose a sliver that she could find, and add to her meager collection.
Pulling out her string and needles, Wren picked up the nearest torn shirt and began to mend the shoulder. Her family wouldn’t be back until morning, so there wouldn’t be any music to spy tonight. As she tried to focus on the work in front of her, the silence grew to a suffocating pitch. Moonlight washed over her, bringing with it the glint of something shiny in the distance.
A plume of feathers burst from her skin and colors began to shift as a thick film slid over her eyes. Her ears twitched as an obsession began brewing in her mind. Since her collection had been plundered months ago, the scraps she’d managed to gather were less than spectacular. She could finish up her mending, but working distracted was a fool's errand and it wasn’t like mother expected her to finish the work this evening.
Pulling out some extra clothes that she had held back from the last batch of mending, Wren packed away the unfinished pieces before her wings burst through the torn back of her dress, scattering the old silk across the attic. Feathers ruffling in anticipation, Wren flung open the window. Gripping the frame, her fingers twisted into talons as she took in a deep breath free from restraint.
Jumping from her window, Wren dropped down the side of the moat before allowing her wings to unfurl and lift her soaring into the air. Her flight feathers hadn’t completely recovered from the last pruning, but she’d been careful to avoid flying around her step sisters anymore, so they were starting to forget again.
Wren let out shrieks of excitement as the world flew past her in a blur of dazzling color, lit by the moonlight overhead. Catching a draft of air, Wren rose higher into the air, allowing moonlight to bathe her before plunging down to land on her prize. Tackling the lone figure she pinned its limbs with her talons and plucked a pretty stone from its throat. Examining it closely she gave a trill of excitement before pulling away.
“Pretty! Can I trade you for it?”
Not one to completely forget her manors too easily, Wren pulled one of her finest feathers out, presenting it to the stranger who was now sitting on the ground, stunned.
“Sure?”
Quickly gripping her prize, Wren handed over payment and perched on the edge of the water enamored by the strange stone she’d bartered for. It wasn’t that she was surprised by her triumph, her negotiations were impeccable. It was more that she had only parted with one of her shining feathers, when she had been prepared to go up to three. It made the trade even more thrilling.
“Take good care of it, I spent many hours caring for that one, It’s good luck you know?”
Wren soon found that her upselling wasn't necessary, as her trade partner, a man in leather armor, seemed just as enamored with her feather as she was with her stone. On closer inspection, he seemed to have some strange weapons at his side. Was he some type of hunter perhaps?
Remembering her sister’s warnings of such folk, Wren remained calm, giving the man a friendly wave before taking off into the sky. She didn’t bother to look back, knowing that even if he could draw his bow in time, she’d be well out of range before he could notch an arrow. If he had tried to strike earlier, her talons would have made quick work of him, and then she could have her stone, feather, and a meal. While her mouth started to water at the thought of a snack, her step mother would definitely know she’d fed. Wren shuddered at the possibility of losing her flight feathers again and quickly returned as the moon was setting, determined that this little distraction wouldn’t upset things too much.
Thanks for the tag @the-archivist-14
My Goodle Docs have only gotten more cluttered since Tabs became a thing....
Original Works. (They have suffered so much this year 😭)
Bloodmage
Coral Crown Adjacent
Company
Absolute Zero
Usually, don't post much about my fics on the main, but I figured that I would just put thease here for convenience (not just because they have been draining most of my creativity 🫠)
Most of thease haven't been posted and are in the editing phase 🙃
Fan Fiction
Shadows of the Past
Bear and Jaguar
Was it Personal?
The Awakening
A letter from Aubrey
Broken Bones
An Unexpected Guest
Dropping Bodies
D6 Mine
Another world
Revenge
Frozen Posion
Tinker
Again
The King and His Fairy
Dbd Work in Progress
The Adventures of Strum
Bounty Hunter
No pressure tagging @wyked-ao3 @renawriter @kuebiko-writing @renawriter @aalinaaaaaa
+open tag
Got tagged by @punchspeedchunk ~ thank you~
Rules are: Post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it!
I'm afraid there's not really much new for WIPs since I last played this game in December, but at least I've made progress on the WIPs! (these are all Fantasy High fics)
Vampire!Riz (finished, waiting for beta)
Fabian is Rapunzel
Sated
It's Never Fantasy Lupus (finished, waiting for beta)
It's All Fucked Up
Omega-Ace: Vitharon
Romeo & Juliet but There's a Mystery
Torture AU
You Can't be Here
Call My Name pt 1: The Sweetest Sound (finished but waiting for other WIPs before I release it)
Call My Name pt2: A Rose by Any Other Name
Hobbert's Mint
Sune's Sexiest Person of the Year
Fabian's Fetish
Jumper/Knitwits
Fatherhood
Withdrawl
Why Aren't You Here?
tagging: @stellarcider @nonbeanary98 @the-archivist-14 @alfalfairy @aloofturtles-blog
If I follow you and you're writer and I forgot to tag you, I'm very sorry!
reblog to send your mutuals a hug. maybe just the thought is enough to cheer them up 🥺
Heads up 7 up
Thanks for the tag @wyked-ao3 !
A bit about Owen, he’s really good at treating people, but because of his upbringing and lack of common sense with most things, He has certain misgivings about people and their reactions to medications. This isn't helped by the strange company he keeps.
A screech of rage pulled him from his dreamless sleep. It sounded strange and garbled, but Tori wasn’t in the vicinity so there had to be another explanation for it. It was then that Owen remembered a key detail that he had up until now misplaced, Maren had been drugged for a significant time and while he didn’t know the type of drug used, there was always the unlikely possibility that it could have been something addictive.
No pressure Tags: @renasdoodles @kuebiko-writing @laisley-writes @leahnardo-da-veggie ,
@creatrackers @somethingclevermahogony +Open tag
Waiting for Reinforcements
Thank you for the prompt @flashfictionfridayofficial
Walking across the dark field towards the barricade, Silus couldn't help but feel a bit melancholy despite the fact that Null had already been passed on to a more fitting vessel. He should have been pleased to rid himself of the burden, but it only felt like his shoulders had started to get even heavier them before.
Rose said it was nerves, and while he knew it wasn't helping things, this was different from the nerves that he'd grown accustomed to.
"Still brooding?" Silus jumped slightly as he noticed her waiting in the shadows with a bottle quietly extended toward him. He accepted it easily for a sip and quickly returned it before the drink could draw him in fully.
"Any word?" She shook her head with a sour expression as she finished off the last several drops of bottle before smashing the glass against the ground.
"No,if we can hold out another day though..." her voice trailed off, unconvincing even to herself it seemed, but he appreciated her attempts. Worrying wouldn't get them anywhere, especially with the mess they had to clean up tomorrow.
"I'm sure they're on their way." He tried to force a smile, but the corners of his mouth felt strangely heavy. He hoped for all of their sakes that they were on the way, because if anything happened to Nulls' new vessel... His newfound freedom would be quite short-lived.
( I'm very tired today, so I just got a rough sketch done)
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I'm trying to get a bit more confident in my work. Organized and unorganized snippets of stories and drawings.
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