Short drabbles you write off the prompt given by the user above you.
It can be as long as you want, or as short as you want,
Short drabbles you write off the prompt given by the user above you.
It can be as long as you want, or as short as you want,
Noon saw the first snow from her window.
At first, it was just a distraction from her midterm papers, some movement out the window.
Then it became a steady blizzard.
She looks up, a smile curling her lips briefly, before she turns to her papers again.
“So what did you want?” the cat asked him.
Wasn’t it going to ask Jow how he could talk to cats? He’d even skipped school to use his new power.
The black cat sitting on the low rock wall began licking his paws, totally unconcerned.
“What makes you think I wanted something?” Jow asked the feline.
“Everyone wants something. And I’m the one they come to.” he meowed in response.
“Why? Do you have some special power or something?” Jow asked, his curiousity rising.
“Ignore him.” said another voice, a chocolate tabby that just happened to be passing by. “Simon’s just arrogant like that.”
I wave my feet idly in the water, staring at the low walls of the storage building in the distance.
I can’t stop replaying the scene from the study room over and over in my head.
Did he do that to embarrass her in front of her own mother? To show Arrossa that he would always take her side? Or was it out of whimsy, unaware of the weight his actions carry?
Every time I think I have him figured out, it’s like he goes out of his way to prove me wrong.
He’s so frustrating. I want to talk to him, to pick his brain apart and lay his thoughts on a table. But at the same time, I want to stay far, far away from his world.
A piece of me lies by my side. Even though I’m human now and no longer that ridiculous cube, a piece of me didn’t transform back with me.
Isn’t it supposed to dissolve? Immortals are pure magic, and magic is intention. If that intention isn’t there, shouldn’t the magic just scatter into the universe?
But the sliver of green material sits in front of me, unmoving. I prod it, trying to reabsorb it, but it resists me.
Then it grows a pair of eyes and frowns at me.
I jump three feet in the air and stare at it in alarm.
“You’re just a piece of me! You weren’t supposed to happen!” I tell the weird sliver of green material with the grumpy eyes and quickly forming mouth.
“Maybe I’m the piece of you that never discovered the secrets of the universe through shapes and isn’t ready to give up like a jelly spined wimp.” the sliver snarks, then closes its eyes and ignores me.
I just stare at it, offended but really not sure what to thing.
Realizing my jaw has expanded and is scraping the floor, I pull myself back into a fairylike shape and get out of there.
My past delusions can fend for themselves.
She shields her eyes from the glare of the sun. The heat feels like a choking smog around her, and her head is starting to vaguely pound to the rhythm of her heart.
She taps her sore heels on the sidewalk, long since having removed her heels.
Passerby give her odd looks, the extravagantly dressed girl with messed up hair and smeared makeup, clearly an Extinguisher from the weapon hanging from her hip, standing at a bus stop at the edge of a run-down road.
She fended most of their interests off with a steady glare, but a few start to linger around her anyway, eyes on their phones and the area around, as if the most interesting thing likely to have happened in this small town isn’t standing at their center.
She sighs, sweeping her sticky hair over her shoulder, wiping at the sweat layering her skin as if it would help.
She looks up, glaring again.
“What?” She grounds out, looking the offending boy up and down.
“Are you…” he hesitates, hurries to pull out a handkerchief from his back pocket.
She watches him with sharp eyes, taking in his worn clothes, his open expression, the way he held himself nervously and a few steps back, as if he knew she wouldn’t hesitate to attack the next thing that didn’t go way today.
He holds the kerchief out, looking at some point to their right, ducking his head.
Well, she’s too tired to care today.
She reaches forward and plucks it from his fingers.
The crowd around them watches them, with bated breath.
The boy sighs a little, turns away, as if to leave. Then he looks at her again. “Are you lost?”
She dabs the kerchief at her damp skin, wondering if she should bother to answer.
“…Yes.” She allows, finally.
“Busses don’t stop here.”
“Just thought I’d let you know,” he says, glancing around at the eyes on them, looking almost uncomfortable. “…Bye.”
In Mrs. Kangaroo’s arms, the small winged creature opened their eyes, completely open and innocent, as blue as a cloudless sky.
Dream’s heart stilled, feeling the creature’s eyes pierce through his mask right into his essence.
“Aren’t they just beautiful?” the creature’s mother beamed.
The creature’s father, who took the form of a big red fox, hovered by Mrs. Kangaroo’s side, keeping an eye on the newborn child.
Dream tried to remember a time when his eyes had looked that open and unguarded.
The first few years of his life had been peaceful. Before his eyes had started to open to the suffering that was possible in this world. Before he’d taken on many forms, back when he was just a small creature taking in the blue sky and fragments of an unformed world slowly coming together.
Him and the Sky Dragon, then just a nameless creature, had explored the world, meeting all the other new Immortals.
Dream still felt wonder that there was a time before he’d put on his mask, a time before he’d taken so many forms, finally morphing into the grey cloaked humanoid that he was.
In the present, Dream was still and peaceful inside. And yet he wore the mask out of habit. He’d feel strange without that barrier between him and the world.
Dream touched the little creature on the nose, and they stared at his hand curiously, then opened their mouth and nibbled on it with tiny needle sharp teeth.
“I think someone’s hungry.” he said to Mrs. Kangaroo.
The plate clatters from his fingers, hitting the table and rolling right off.
I watch it happen almost in slow motion, the rolling as the plate reaches the edge of the table, where it pauses, right before it tips over and topples through the air.
It breaks as soon as it hits the ground, but the idiot who dropped it is still oblivious, hopping from one foot to the other as he sticks his tongue out, fanning his face and making the most stupid expression.
It’s too much, and I’m laughing, so hard that I splutter the milk I was drinking right out my nose.
I hear a shout, and I barely open my eyes to see Mags get tugged away from the scattered mess of broken ceramic on the floor, Auntie’s high-pitched nasally voice ringing in my ears.
“What are you two doing with my ingredients?”
I laugh harder, reaching blindly towards a chair for support.
“Nidhi said the flavors were interesting-“ Mags says, between whatever’s he’s doing with his tongue.
“The flavors?” Auntie turns her piercing gaze to me, and unfortunately, the milk still dribbling down my chin and the look on Mags’s face just isn’t helping my insistent giggles.
Her expression is thunder itself personified.
It was a really stressful day. I just want to go somewhere far away.
I plop down on my bed and curl up around my stuffed bear, Fran. I’m embarrased that I still have a stuffed bear at twelve, but after today I really need him.
I close my eyes and drift off…
I’m lying on a massive, soft ground of pink fluff. I’m barefoot and wearing a soft white robe. I look up to see a soft white mountain of snow topped by bright spots of colored gems of all sorts of textures. They look like candy, but they’re too big for that.
I’m confused. On one hand this seems like a peaceful dream, and it feels happy, on the other hand I’m really confused about this whole… thing. Like, what is this stuff I’m standing on, even?
There’s a blonde haired girl next to me who seems to have arrived here with her face planted on the ground.
She pulls a piece of the pink fluff up and eats it.
Could it be candy?
“I mean, people have kind of walked all over this stuff so…?” I say, kind of wanting to try it but also totally grossed out.
“I’ve been in places like this before. It’s just a dream, we’re not really here and we’re not really eating this stuff. It’s safe.” the girl says.
She gestures to the white dress she’s wearing.
“I know I don’t own any clothes like this.”
Yeah, these things look more like something an angel might wear, but like… a nightgown. An angel nightgown.
Well, I’m not going to waste the chance to try something sweet!
I put some of the pink stuff into my mouth and it does actually taste sweet. I stuff some more of it in, then get to my feet and walk over the soft candy, heading toward the probably sweet mountain.
This is the best dream ever.
The wheel hits the elevated ground, and the chair almost rocks over.
Wynn hurries to catch the handles before Lux hits the ground.
When they’re steady again, Lux twists around to glare at him.
“…Sorry,” Wynn ducks his head, hiding a surprised smile.
“I will kill you.”
“I said I’m sorry,” Wynn repeats, laughing, earning a flick on the forehead.
by the way! Did you save anything from the version of this we played on wattpad?
I saved most of the flash fiction I wrote, so I could post it on wattpad…
The street was busy with people in all kinds of bright, new clothing. The glass of shop windows reflected the bright colors and snow falling swiftly through the cold air.
Corl clutched her cloak tightly around her, waiting for the others to get out of a rowdy noodle shop she didn’t like. She shivered slightly despite her cloak and layers of clothing underneath.
Corl began walking to ward off the cold and spotted something that caught her eye through a shop window.
It was a green dress heavy with white lace peeping out of the cuffs and hem.
It reminded Corl of the clothing her sisters had worn, way back when she’d had that life. For a moment she felt a flash of curiousity, wondering what Mary and Beth were doing now.
But that was in the past. No longer her family, no longer her life.
And she’d never be rich enough to wear that kind of dress.
Corl knew that wasn’t a bitter truth. If she had enough money to live off of, she was fine. And she had freedom now… the freedom to be anyone, to do anything she wanted to.
She was many dimensions away from home now. If she was still a noble bound to defending their family name, a noble whose entire existence was to uphold the pride of their family, she would never have gotten to come all the way here.
The beauty of snow gusting down, countless faces passing by, all of them strangers to her.
“I’d like to wear that dress. I’d be a dainty noble lady.” said a high voice from near the ground.
Violet was about the farthest thing from a noble lady Corl had ever seen. Her ratty hair was twisted around the kinds of junk a gryffin would think of as treasure and her cloak was open, revealing a ratty dress full of holes.
Corl awkwardly wondered how she was supposed to reply.
Violet saved her by completely ignoring her silence.
“Hey, it’s kind of cold out here, isn’t it?” Violet said.
“…Yeah.” Corl said.
Aura looked across the horizon, wind rippling through his feathers. He sighed, he didn’t want to choose who to become but it wasn’t like he had a choice anyways… He gazed at the tiny people from above the clouds, they looked like Ants from high above. But a particular little fellow caught his eye. A boy, running through the crowd of people. Aura smiled, perfect…
“The kid’s becoming quite a nuisance, sir”
“I’m afraid I must agree.”
Hunter reached for another praline, letting his fingers circle the little plate before picking out a particularly good looking one: Warmly brown with a line of white chococlate wrapped around it, like a snake minutes before choking out it’s prey.
“What should we do about him, sir?” The voice inquired from the other side of the room.
Hunter thought for a minute before plopping the luxurious sweet in his mouth. A strong taste of caramel spread through his mouth, reaching it’s every corner. Even though his face didn’t show it, this was the one he’d hoped for.
“Have him executed for disobeying orders, I’m done with his buffooning.”
I come in to see Raju crouched on the refrigerator, emerald tail flicking from side to side, his eyes on something below him.
Immediately, I assume the worst, and grab for the broom.
His ears twitch, noticing my presence. ‘Welcome home.’
‘What is it?’
‘A goblin? A troll?’
His eyes glow as he meets mine for a second. ‘What are you on about?’
I slowly edge my way around the kitchen counter to see what he’s looking at. “…a mouse?”
He pounces on the thing, and I yelp, stumbling back into the couch.
All I see is a green blur streak into the house as I sit up, blinking.
…Immortal being aside, I suppose he is still a cat.
I smile, grabbing my backpack from where I’d dropped it on the floor.
I drift into a body, my groggy awareness slowly taking in a damp dungeon. A sheet of long dark hair weighs my head down, and a silky robe laps at my feet.
I don’t remember who I am, or why I’ve come here. All I know is I’ve been summoned.
My awareness feels strangely heavy as I lift my head to take in a circle of humans in robes surrounding me, ink symbols scrawled on the floor beckoning me to this body.
“Light the candle, Aver.” a deep voiced man tells me.
At my feet is a small stubby candle.
To test my power, to make sure I haven’t been completely weakened by this body, I send a tightly controlled lick of flame at it.
When the candle is lit, the people draw in a collective gasp of breath.
“We have been waiting many years for your return, Aver.” the deep voiced man tells me.
“Who is it?” I ask, my strangely high voice and unclear words frustrating me.
“Who… is it?” the man asks, confused.
“Who were you trying to summon?” I roar, my voice still weak and thin.
“And how do you know I am the one you intended to summon?” I ask, reining in the body’s voice, as I can feel it starting to fray.
The man makes a small sound of uncertainty then is silent.
A few seconds pass with no confirmation that I am who they say I am, or who Aver even is.
“Very well.” I say with a sigh. “Ask away. What did summon me for?”
It wasn’t always like this…
Mona wasn’t acting right, she kept twisting stray strands of her dark brown silky hair and staring at the fields when we were talking, her parents already had her marriage in place. It was just that I didn’t know she would be going so soon. I confessed my feelings a few months ago and she was about to open her mouth when her parents came out of nowhere and dragged her back home with her protesting. After that, she just tried to avoid me in fear of her parents seeing us again.
Only when she had a few hours left before she finished packing to meet her betrothed, I pulled her aside and told her I wanted to paint her, as I painted the colors swirled together into oblivion and I was lost in thought as I stared into her eyes, the brownish-black endless depth far more valuable than a piece of the finest wood. Suddenly she frowned, after hearing her name faintly upon the servant’s lips over the fields and she feared that we might get caught. She spun from her seat and ran down towards her house. I called her back but she never looked behind as she opened the door of her home and disappeared into the brick building. I just sat there devastated that it was the last time I would see her again. Glancing back at the canvas, it looked ugly without a frame.
Next word: Jealousy
Quina sucked absentmindedly on her thumb, watching her sister Milena playing with blocks on the floor.
There were no adults in the room to help her out of her crib, so she started crying loudly, hoping someone would come.
“Wanna come out?” Milena said, leaving her blocks and walking to the edge of the crib.
“Uh-huh.” Quina said.
“I’ll catch you.” Milena said, holding up her arms.
Quina looked over the edge of her crib at the long drop to the floor, biting her lip.
“You can do it!” Milena said, shaking her arms in emphasis.
Quina really wanted to be on the floor, so she squirmed up onto the edge of her crib.
Her heart beat fast with her awareness of the big drop below her. She slowly lowered her legs down, afraid she’d lose her grip on the side of the crib. The edge of the crib, barely big enough to balance on, was digging into her painfully.
Milena grabbed her legs and slowly, with great difficulty, lowered her little sister to the ground.
The feeling of carpet beneath Quina’s feet gave her an immense feeling of relief. The world down here was so big and full of possibility.
“Let’s play with toys!” Quina said.
“Naev! Come spar with me!”
At the center of a mat-covered training room stood two girls facing each other, both dressed in their training uniform from head to toe. To the right stood the one called Naeva, otherwise well-known as Naev. Her appearance, as one would say, could be described as atrocious and brave. Coupled with her extravagant purple-blue hair, the look on Naeva’s face and the excitement present in her eyes perfectly showcased her overly extroverted personality. As she looked at her training partner and best friend of 3 years, the look of determination and confidence slowly spread across her face as if she already knew who would turn out victorious from this spar. Naeva’s partner, who’s name was quite famous around the academy, immediately knew what she was thinking. In return, she scowled at Naeva followed by a couple words of frustration, “You know, I might beat you this time.”
At her insinuating words, Naeva thrusted her blade towards her partner’s ribs at a speed so fast it was almost undetectable. Her partner quickly stepped back and dodged the attack with her own dagger, cursing when she realized what type of situation she was in. The force of Naeva’s strength caused her to be unbalanced as she stumbled backwards, creating an opening down below. Seeing this as an opportunity, Naeva swiftly swung her foot under her partner’s with the intention of making her trip, but instead failed as she noticed, too late, that it was a trap. Right away her partner performed a backflip along with the lash of her small dagger. She aimed it at Naeva’s face, and successfully struck her cheek. Feeling a thick, warm liquid ooze out from the cut on her face Naeva let out a small wince. She instantly recollected herself, leaped forward, and thrashed her dagger down on her partner’s dagger with a force comparable to an avalanche. The vibration of the two metals colliding caused Naeva to let out a small comment: “Ah, nice.” Suddenly, a roundhouse was swung towards her face, causing her to duck and slash her dagger at her opponent’s arm. This earned Naeva a glare and a curse, only to be returned with a small peel of laughter. Naeva retaliated with a swing of her weapon, which was blocked with the help of her opponent’s steady footwork. This went on for some time before, finally, the match ended with Naeva’s strong fist planted on her friend’s face. The pain was so strong, it left her on the ground with a sickening bruise that was starting to form.
Her eyes then closed with a frustrating realization that, once again, she had lost a match for the umpteenth time. She brought her hand up to her neck and pulled out a small locket as she wrapped her hand around it. She mumbled to herself, “Hey, booger. I lost again.”
Next Word: Light
I open my eyes to see some kind of rough rock under my fingers, stained with my blood. I can feel that I’ve reverted to my true form, and my clothes as well.
I raise my eyes to see a deserted stretch of rock, like night but lit by some kind of massive light.
I raise my eyes further and gasp.
Massive, sleek walls tower above me, lined with countless light filled windows that pierce the night like bright sparks.
Where am I? I was fighting… Chase, are they okay? Elyse! Everyone! I have to get back, I can’t let the demons kill them!
The strange, unnaturally flat place I’m in is eerily silent. It feels like no life could exist here, but there are people passing by.
One elderly lady stops by me, pulling out a little square that flashes into a spark of cold light.
“Sir, are you okay? Should I call an ambulance?”
Her tone of voice, the concerned humanity of her, is the only thing recognizable about this place.
“Excuse me, Madam, could you tell me where I am?” I ask, trying not to let the panic that floods me show in my voice.
“You’re in Franklin city, on Second street. You’re bleeding.”
She spoke into the square, sounding like she was informing someone of my location and injuries.
“Please, I don’t know how I got here but I have to get back.” I say, my tone rising in desperation.
“There now, it’ll be okay. I’ve called the ambulance and they’re coming to get you. Later you’ll talk to the police about your situation.” she tries to reassure me.
I don’t know who the ambulance or police are, but there’s no time to waste.
But I don’t see any way back to my town, any familiar signs of the things that make up the world I’m familiar with. My daughter could be dying on the ground right now and I have no way to get back to her!
“Elyyseeee!!” I scream, the sound echoing emptily off the empty walls and starless night and dissappearing into nothing.
He noticed when he was giving.
Trust has always been something he’s held close to his heart, something he’s only let others have flighting glimpses of.
He pulls on his capelet, not at all comfortable with the height spiralling below him. It’s been a long time since he’s flown, and it shows when he flexes his wings. He reaches back in his mind for memories of flight.
He snorts slightly, watching the other avian’s form recede into the clouds in the distance.
If he doesn’t take off now, he won’t be able to catch up.
Well, they do say that flying is like riding a bike.
Not that he’s ever ridden one of those.
The things he does because of that osprey.
He spreads his wings, and jumps.