#tnlw

[pygmydragon-blog1]

The fae run free

A shiver ran along the ground, leaves shaking themselves free from the trees.  Something was awakening.  Villagers clutched their cloaks closer about them as a rumbling shook the forest.  

It was the one night that the fae could be free, peculiar beings they were.  An ancient spell from a mage long ago had imprisoned them, locked them far away from the world and one another.  But this one precious day a year they were set free to dwell, to feel real, once again.

Matirit shook her hair free as soon as she woke up, and started running, shrieking in the forest.  She needed to find him, her mate.  If she could only see him for a moment, all would be right once more.  The months imprisoned in a cage of darkness would be washed away as she clung to him.

Fae woke up, their forms gradually gaining light and life as they stretched their fingers to touch the moon.  Some were singing and dancing, others looked as if they were ghosts.  Which they were, of a sort.

Matirit whimpered as she darted from tree to tree, eyes a piercing violet as she tried to find her beloved.  There were thousands of Fae, but she had to find him.  For years before, she had always tried.  Sometimes she found him, others she didn’t.  But for the past two harvest moons before this one, she couldn’t.  She felt that if she didn’t again, her eternal soul would be crushed even more than it was already doomed to be.

Hot tears ran down her face, more than one fae was out searching for their mate, a shred of comfort.  Torches blazed in the darkness, the villagers were coming.  Coming to purge the fae once more.  Screams started shredding the night, and they were driven deeper into the forest.  

“Conlaed!”  She shrieked, running faster into the core of woods and mountains, a final hope that maybe, somewhere, he would hear her.  He had to.

A fae warrior answered her call, a tall creature with hair as dark as night with eyes as light as the morning dawn.  She stopped, panting, as he took her in a tight embrace, shaking around her.   “I found you.”  He whispered, hand on her head clutching her to his chest as if she might disappear.

She sobbed into his chest, “Don’t let me go, I c-can’t go back there.”

“Hey...”  He tilted her chin to look up at him. “We’ll be alright, we’ve got now, don’t we?”  A sad smile adorned his face.  

The torches crept closer, shouts growing louder.  They ran together in the cold, until all of the fae were packed, torches all around.  Matirit clung to her mate, who rubbed her back, wondering how he would protect her from this.

Grotilist, one of the elders of the fae, with features and hair as old as stone snarled.  “Oh, I’ve got a bit of magic in me yet...”  But nobody heard him.

A snap of the fingers, and the bondage was free, fae were to dwell among men once more and Grotilist’s soul drifted away to who knows where, vanquished by his own power.

But nobody realized what had just happened, until the sun poked over the horizon, and the villagers were not the only ones shaking.  The magic of the fae had returned, and they would have their revenge.

(Thanks to @thenightofthelivingwriters for this awesome prompt!! 4.2 I think? )

[thenightofthelivingwriters]

2019 - The Night of the Living Writers, We’re back!

Hello everyone,  my name is Note and last year @arynneva and I, ran the October event The Night of the Living Writers last year!

NOTE: Last year, I posted the prompts to my main (formerly @writerofwriting now @note-katha) but now it will all be posted here!

It’s back! So, reblog/reply to this post to be added to this year’s taglist :D

What is The Night of the Living Writers, you ask?

TNLW is a month-long event where this blog ( @thenightofthelivingwriters) posts three fall/spooky/halloween themed prompts everyday! 

Post your prompts and tag this blog!

[anntar-radix]

“How?” Carolyn sighed. “How in the hell did you get this much candy?”

“Easy, you go to Price Chopper when they open at 4 in the morning.”

“You are going to get sick eating all of this.”

Evan shrugged. “I like my candy, Princess. Don’t judge what you can’t appreciate.”

Carolyn glared at Evan. “Stop with that nickname.”

“Not a chance, Princess.”

Carolyn huffed. “You ass.”

“An ass about to be filled with sugar.”

Carolyn shook her head and started to head out the door. She came face-to-face with a very groggy Alex. “Your friend is trying to put himself into a sugar coma.”

Alex sighed. “He raided the Price Chopper again, didn’t he?”

Carolyn nodded.

“Evan!”

“What?”

“Make sure you throw up into the toilet this time. I will force you to clean it up otherwise.” “Ugh. Fine.”

Carolyn looked at Alex in disbelief. “Really?”

“What? As long as none of us have to deal with the repercussions, I don’t see the issue.”

She rolled her eyes. “Anyways, where were you and your boyfriend last night?”

“First of all, not dating. Second of all, nearby the parks, laying on the street.”

“Strange place for a date—”

“Not a date.”

“But what were you two even doing?”

“Stargazing.”

“And you couldn’t shoot me a text saying you lovebirds weren’t going to make it?”

“I forgot. The stars were too beautiful.”

“Are you sure you were looking at the stars and not Deven’s eyes?” She waggled her eyebrows.

Alex sighed. “We are just friends.”

“Sure…”

“Carolyn!”

(And that’s day 1 of 31 (5 days late...) Thanks for reading and thanks to @thenightofthelivingwriters for the prompts! The prompt I chose for that was “Who gets the most candy from trick or treating?”. Apparently, not anyone in that group. Cause I can’t read apparently. Hopefully tomorrow I can get day 4,5, and 7 up... See y’all then!)

[promptsforthestrugglingauthor]

What's Night of the Living Writer?

The Night of the Living Writers (@thenightofthelivingwriters) is an October writing event put together by two of my lovely friends! The tl;dr of it is that they post 3 spooky-themed prompts a day, and you may fill whichever you’d like! No need to participate in every prompt, every day, no strings attached!

If you’re interested in it, here’s today’s prompts!

[pe-ersona]

Dark Finale

Taglist: @thenightofthelivingwriters @sunshineomeara @ventilaccion @awkwardplant

Dark Past / Dark Figure / Dark Forest / Dark Room

Eyes adjusting to the dark, she sees the slit of light under the far door. Her feet step one in front of another. Like the day before. Her steps, hesitant. Her feet hit his carpet, leading into his apartment. The same apartment that she came over to hear about his problems and lean her shoulder for his tears. Recently, she heard the same story over and over but it was different. He found someone new and she tried not to pry for her heart was too fragile. She held her feelings bottled and released them with someone else, a guy who would always help with her thoughts. Help her hide behind her mask in front of him. She encouraged him and she wish she didn’t. She called for his name once and he couldn’t breath out an answer. Too far gone. She felt an eerie silence then and now. When she came around the corner, she held back her scream and dropped to her knees. The image of his crusty hair in her hands scarred her vision now and her ears still rang with police sirens as the doorknob twists in her hand. 

The stairs creak under her weight and she flinches, waiting for something to stir. It doesn’t. She continues and walks into a hallway, leading in two directions. Left or right? One way is a dead end of more doors. She couldn’t test them if they lead to an exit or a bedroom. She takes the other option and it opens to a living room. There is still no sound of someone--something else over the loud heartbeat in her ears.

She can’t take it anymore and she runs to find the front door. Her footsteps heavy. She passes through the kitchen and stops. There is an array of papers and a map next to the sink. Too curious, she looks over and recognizes the handwriting. From the same hand that pushed her out the door. She picks up one piece and she spots the photos. Her blood runs cold. The paper slips out of her hand and she turns around to run out of this nightmare. 

Unaware of the approaching dark figure, he grasps her arms as she screams. He is dressed head to toe in black and she can’t see his face. He lifts her struggling body and forces her to sit on the couch in the living room. He places a tight grip on her arm like a burning brand and other close to her throat, squeezing hard to shut her up as he stands behind her. 

A door from down the hallway open. His face was not mistaken. The same one she saw however long ago. She grit her teeth as tears stream down her face at his presence, once a safe haven, now forever a prison. 

“Why?” She wheezes out. 

“You wanted my help, didn’t you?”

[aj-the-satyr]

A Pleasant Evening

(YAY! Day 5 of The Night of the Living writers. Today’s prompt: Tonight )

Maximus smiled at the turnout, it hadn’t been very difficult to convince the High King to put on a feast in order to celebrate his being here a year. The King seemed to enjoy celebrating his people and the stability that had come after Maximus’ appointment was certainly something they felt worthy of an evening of merriment. Maximus was also enjoying this, but perhaps had a more personal reason for wanting to celebrate his length of time here.

He leaned against a wall watching the various lords, ladies, barons and others mingle and talk noting the occasional glances his way. He returned smiles and nods and was quite happy to note how accurate his findings had been as certain people gathered together in what they thought were subtle groups. He wasn’t at all surprised when a waiter offered him a tray with a singular goblet on it.

“Lord Barrins has offered a glass of one of his private reserve bottles to mark the occasion.”

“Has he?” Maximus had to fight back a grin. “How very generous of him. I will have to thank his grace for his generous gift.”

The waiter bowed and left. Maximus felt sorry for them, an unwitting tool used in an assassination attempt. He decided to have a little fun with the wielder, after all tonight was his night.

Lord Barrins was easy to spot, even if he were a peacock among peacocks. Everyone using a gathering as an attempt to prove that they were ahead of the latest fashion trends and everyone else merely followers. Maximus cut his way through the room avoiding contact with those he knew would want a poem or two before letting him leave their side. Normally those people were a delight, but right now he had another form of entertainment in mind. Maximus took note of a couple of disgruntled looks as he approached. “Lord Barrins.”

The man turned and hid his surprise well. “Maximus! Come to regale us with more of your work? One would think that you would have had enough of that tonight? Relax. Eat, drink and be merry.”

Maximus bowed his head. “No my Lord I am here merely to offer my thanks at being treated to some of your famous house reserve.” He raised the goblet and noted that it very quickly became the center of attention.

Lord Barrins waved a hand. “Nonsense. It’s a celebration. It is a shame that I only could bring one of the smaller bottles or I could have gifted you more than a mere goblet full.”

“Well the gesture is most appreciative. Wine is your business after all and if that is all that was ready I thank you for thinking of me at all.”

He chuckled. “Were this a less suddenly announced gathering I might have had the time to do more. Alas. I hope you enjoy it.”

“I’m sure I will.” Maximus smiled and downed the entire goblet. He felt the poison almost immediately. They really wanted him dead at this point, to the point where they would risk so public an attempt. His Ratkin biology fought against the foul substance and he knew he would be rather ill later tonight, but for now he had their rapt attention. “Rather acidic. I fear you are losing your edge in the winemaking business.” He leaned in closer to the Lord who was now visibly uncomfortable. “And we all know how dangerous that can be don’t we?” He whispered before smiling to the group. “I suggest you all get in line, or I will be forced to remind you all where those lines are drawn. Good evening gentlemen.” And with a smile he left them to their stunned silence handing off the goblet to a member of the staff he knew by name advising them to get rid of it for it was now unusable. Tonight might have been fun, but the new day would bring new challenges and the rumours that swept through the kingdom gave him far less comfort than the poison he just ingested.

(Yay thanks again to @thenightofthelivingwriters for the prompts and today’s one simply flowed so well with yesterdays. :) More of Maximus being his arrogant, assholish self. Gonna poke @the-bearded-hylian again since I am writing in his game world. And once again to all the writers out there..... KICK WORDS AND TAKE ADJECTIVES!!!)

[how-the-fuck-do-you-write]

Night of the Living Writers- Day 1- Trees

I had HORRIBLE writers block, but here we go!!!!!

     Mallor felt as if the trees were watching him. It was the middle of spring, but he still felt as if the cold of winter was still snagging at his darkened skin and seeped into his bones. How long had it been? How long since he first came into these woods? The 'Ohi'a lehua seemed to already be blooming brightly, and he could just feel the long hopbush gently caressing his legs. Despite the life and color the wilderness had, Warren could not feel more mournful and angry. How dare the world seem to be celebrating today? How dare it seem to rejoice on the anniversary of something so terrible?! 

    He could still hear her laugh. After all these years, he could still make out the sound of her skipping and dancing by him in the grass. He could swear the sound of the branches moving in the wind was of her giddily climbing the massive trunks, in hopes of seeing the coast from her throne of leaves and bark. He could swear his tired and sullen blue eyes recently met those deep blue of life. The memories both hurt and made him nearly crack a smile. For as long as he could remember, she was by his side. Just them both against the cold and harsh world they were born in. 

    God, the thoughts even made his grip harden on the old sweater he was wearing, despite the warmth of spring. It was the last thing he had of her. Taking care of hands and fingers pinched by the needles of a seamstress, the bright colors of fabric as they were seamlessly woven together into elegant and unique clothes. That's what he missed the most. She loved life so much. She loved the feeling of the grass between her toes and the warm sun against her skin. It was almost impossible to remember...

    Mallor felt his throat tighten. He was there. The hibiscus blossoms were the brightest shade of yellow in the sunlight. Right in front of that bush of flowers was a marked grave. The foliage seemed to sit around the bush and small mound of dirt as if they mourned as well. And finally, the forest was still. The man knelt by the overgrowth, reaching into his pockets and pulling out a photo, crumpled and worn with time. Him and his twin sister, happily grinning to the old camera used for the shot.

    "I-I'm sorry that I'm late," Mallor mumbled, placing the photo softly to the grave, "I found it... hard, to get up." He stopped to let in a shaky breath. "I'm sorry, Jasper. If only-" A sniffle rose this time, "-if only I could've done something... If only you were still here..." He couldn't bear to talk anymore, quietly sobbing as his head lowered. Above him and his deceased sister, the trees bent in the wind. Along with Warren, the trees seemed to mourn and weep.

[pe-ersona]

Dark Past

Taglist: @thenightofthelivingwriters @sunshineomeara @ventilaccion @awkwardplant

Dark Figure / Dark Forest / Dark Room

“You’re missing the point. You can’t be here.”

“I didn’t know where to go. You’re the first person I thought-”

“They know that. They will be here any second now.”

“I don’t know what to do. I didn’t do anything.”

“I know that. I wasn’t there, but I know you didn’t do it. I know you too well. And I know you will come to me but I thought you would be smarter.”

“Why can’t you help me? I came here so you could help me--out of this.”

“I can’t help you this time. I can’t hide you in this house. They will find you.” and I can’t let that happen.

“What should I do then?”

“Run away.”

“What? I can’t just--where do I go--”

“Run away!”