After a long time, I finally write some flashfic again @flashfictionfridayofficial
This is some kind of prelude to my OC Kiss Week piece but also works as a standalone
Tagging some folks who might be interested @ashen-crest @writingamongther0ses @kitcatling @dreaming-goblin
The pale grey linen tunic clung to his body as Runar mused how it all could end up here with him standing on the executioners stand, only moments away from his head taking from his neck despite being the king. Or more was the king.
But was he really?
Runar married Delayra of Tyrohlena, queen in her own regards, in full knowledge of the kingdom’s tradition of what they call Wayfinders. As far as he was concerned, they were the royal family’s bodyguards and personal army when he married her. All for political reasons of course. Their kingdoms had been neighbors and as a proud ruler of the small kingdom of Baz it tickled his ego the queen accepted his request.
The wind on the podest grabbed his tunic and let him shiver slightly but even more when he saw the hate in the eyes of Kailan, Delayra’s Wayfinder. His shoulder was still wrapped up and he held Delayra close, being the rock to lean on as always despite her still looking ashen from the incident.
The incident, that’s what the castle called. Runar snorted a laugh at this thought. Three agonizing years he watched how his wife spent more time with her damned Wayfinder, smiled at him, laughed at his jokes but chastened him her king with ignorance.
Runar should have known things would end badly when this damned Wayfinder joined them in bed on their wedding night. A tradition Delayra said, Kailan was there to teach him how to please her right to ensure plenty of heirs. At that very moment Runar wanted to throw things at both. No one told him his wife wouldn’t be untouched.
Looking back at that night, it was telling. Yet Runar wouldn’t know.
Delayra barely shared the bed with him, yet she ended up with child within a year. To this day he wasn’t sure if this boy was actually his. Increasingly he felt like a mistress when he was the heavens damned king of two kingdoms!
His head held high, Runar walked up to the executioner.
Shall they get his kingdom. His people will never accept a queen who rather fucks her guard than her king, Runar smiled.
With this last thought he knelt down, reveling in the thought his death will cause a war.
On the other side of crow stood queen Delayra with her Wayfinder and her son Sorin with his nursemaid. Thankfully, the little boy was too small to understand what was going on.
The moment the axe fell down on Runar’s neck she breathed out relieved. The whole crowd followed. A long moment of silence until the executioner confirmed the successful beheading of King Runar with a nod and lifting the head up.
Cheers exploded at a deafening volume.
“It is over, my queen,” Kalian softly spoke, “The monster is gone. You can sleep in peace now.”
“Can I really?”
With hollowed gaze she let her eyes move over the crowd. Her body tensed when she saw the colors of Baz in a small group that came up to her. An elderly man lead the group with a neutral face.
In front of the royal pavilion, they drop to their knees.
“Your majesty, we are emissaries of Baz. Runar has long forgotten about his people and after we heard about his doing as king the people denounced him and broke ties with the line of his heritage. We came to witness his death and ask your majesty to take the land as rightfully theirs.”
The pinching pain behind her eyes that announced a vision came at the worst time possible. Clawing into Kalian’s arm she took a deep breath and closed her eyes, waiting for the pictures to come.
What she saw made her smile. A redhaired woman from the lands of Baz standing as Wayfinder next to a young queen along other Wayfinders in times of war.
Delayra had no idea how far into the future it was, but it was clear this was necessary. When she opened her eyes again Kalian’s worried gaze laid upon her, but she smiled.
“Emissary, you are aware the king tried to kill me out of jealousy because he didn’t understand my kingdoms traditions?”
“Yes, your majesty and we broke ties with this royal line, imprisoned all remaining relatives, and came here with this wish. Their reign was guided by selfish actions for generations.”
Carefully, she got down from the raised pavilion and stood in front of the elderly man to gently raise his head to look at her.
“I can not make a promise my descendants will make the same mistake but as long as I reign no subject will be treated unfairly. Go back home and tell your people, your queen welcomes you in her arms. If you need any help, do not hesitate to send a request to the castle.”
The crowd cheered again and the elderly man shed silent tears.
“As you wish, your majesty.”
Kalian stepped next to her again and bent forward.
“What did you see?”
She smiled at him calmly and rested in herself again before she looked at her son.
“A descendant of the people of Baz serving as Wayfinder to one of my descendants in times of war.”
Kalian chuckled.
“Whoever attacks Tyrohlena in the future doesn’t know what hits them. Come, you still need to rest. The healers will have my head if you don’t do.”
A small nod of hers and the whole entourage went back into the castle.
The biggest irony of everything was, Runar was right with one thing: Delayra always felt safer with Kalian, and she can’t say herself who the father of her son was.
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Here are your #FlashFicFriday prompts for this week! Who wants to write a crack fic where J2 prank Kripke until he agrees to make an SPN reboot? If you write it, let us know so we can read it!
Fandom: Original content.
Pairing/starring: GN!Reader x GN!OC.
Word count: 180.
Content: Shenanigans, kissing, crushing, almost confessions.
A/N: Flashficfriday ( @flashfictionfridayofficial ) challenge caught my attention and I decided to try my hand at it with a classical trope: First kiss. As per usual please like, comment, reblog. Here’s my TAGLIST and my MASTERLIST for more.
Dare
You were sure your heart had just stopped...or maybe it was beating so rapidly that it was simply impossible to pick up on the individual beats.
Either way, you know for certain that your breath is stuck in your lungs and your hands are flailing until caught and guided to the nape of your crush’ neck. Once there, your fingers curl into the hair, nails gently scraping along the base of the skull to guide your crush closer as you eyes drift shut.
It was a dare, a game played among friends one bored evening. None of you were even drunk because it was a Thursday afternoon, just hanging out in the park. The challenges had been simple so far but that all changed when your crush was prompted to kiss you and did so without even hesitating.
You didn’t know how long time passed before they pulled back, arms wrapped around you still and lips brushing your when they whispered sorry.
A/N: is this fic about how i feel right now? well, uh, you see... *nervously glances around the room to avoid answering* do i envy my own character to have someone being so gentle to them? yes, actually i do and a relationship like this is all that i want. and the forehead kisses.
anyways, what i love most about this fic is that Yrsa and Alexej have reversed their roles - simply because i need to show you, that this is something that happens too! we are here at a point in their relationship when Alexej is fully comfortable around Yrsa and trusts her so much that he even has become protective of her. zoning out is usually something that he does and Yrsa is the one to get him out of it. this time, he gets the chance to care for her while she gets caught up in her head.
@flashfictionfridayofficial, fff136, goodness will come
genre: romance(?)
word count: 465
fandom: original (who we are)
character(s): Yrsa Agnarsdóttir, Alexej Kuznetsov
warnings/content: comfort, fluff, zoning out, this is literally just sweet and has very very minor swearing (i.e. one word in the first sentence lmao)
For some reason, that boring-ass trashcan across the room keeps catching Yrsa’s attention. Whenever she lays eyes on it, she can’t seem to look away and immediately starts zoning out. Her eyes unfocus and her brain muffles any noise from the happenings around her.
The past three times, Yrsa had been able to pull herself out of it - be it by focusing on some key words in a nearby conversation, or just a sudden unexpected sound. This time though, she felt too tired for that. Her eyelids grew heavier by the second but they just wouldn’t close. There she was, stuck between awake and asleep, mentally isolated from the entire room.
A shadow cast over her and by the faded-black sweater and the shoved up sleeves - actually Yrsa simply hoped that it was Alexej and judging by the way he immediately entered her personal space, shielding her from the rest of the room the case was clear. Not that anyone else would dare to get this close to her unprompted anyways.
Not able to zone back in, Yrsa merely manages to tilt her head upwards slightly to show Alexej that she has in fact noticed him. Alexej keeps standing right infront of her sitting form and very gently puts a hand onto her shoulder. Yrsa relishes the feeling as it gives her something to focus on. Slowly Alexej puts a bit of weight and pressure into his touch before sliding his hand along the tensed muscles and up the side of her neck until he is cupping her cheek.
He can feel Yrsa lean into the touch though her eyes still don’t leave the trashcan. He repeats his actions, this time with his other hand and gently forces Yrsa to face him. Her eyes are glossed over and he can see a tiredness he can feel in his own bones.
Today is hard for her, whatever the reason may be.
Alexej keeps holding her face as he leans down to press a long and soft kiss onto her forehead. When he leans back, her eyes are still closed and he can feel her taking deep and steady breaths. There is no accusation in his quiet voice. It’s soft and understanding. Comforting.
“You keep zoning out, I’ve noticed.”
“I don’t know what it is.”
“Want to get out of here for a while? Take a walk or nap or get some fresh air?”
Yrsa looks around Alexej to the windows. She remembers the cold that burned her cheeks this morning when they arrived but now the sun has come out. There is no doubt that the temperatures are still freezing, but the sun will do wonders. She smiles and nods at the thought and lets Alexej take her hands and pull her with him.
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[ID: Teal water color banner with orange text that reads "Enchant’s FFF Drabbles Masterlist" /finish ID]
Time for another masterlist because I’m extra. Here’s all the stories, poems, and ficlets I posted with the following prompts. I am shookth I wrote this much, tbh. Ranges from ships to character studies to little tales, this list has a lot. I’m hoping to be an avid participator because the prompts gives me the inspo and guts. Heed the TW in the A/N section, thanks. Basically, an organized list for me because tags aren’t helpful.
Note: I’ll reblog the list when I post something new.
Side-note: Ignore the fanfic, if you want to read original things. All fandoms are listed for easier navigation.
#FFF01 - Gimme Fluff - The Warm Relief (The Flash ficlet)
#FFF02 - Auch My Heart - Passionate Longing (Captain America ficlet)
#FFF06 - Fight Me! - Rising Against Unfairness (Lines of a Script to Ignore Tale)
#FFF08 - Bittersweet Beginnings - A Rocky Development (Original Story)
#FFF11 - Bruised Sky - The Resilient Spirit (Captain America ficlet)
#FFF12 - Into the Wild - The Surreal Trip (Legends of Tomorrow ficlet)
#FFF15 - Midnight Drive - The Meandering Roads (OC Study)
#FFF18 - Jumping Fences - Thin Barriers (Legends of Tomorrow or The Flash ficlet)
#FFF19 - House of Stars - The Radiant Glimpse (Semi-Legends of Tomorrow ficlet)
#FFF21 - We Are Not Alone - Untamed Sentience (Blasted Scorn Story)
#FFF23 - Shelf Life - The Restive Obstacle (OC Study)
#FFF24 - On the House - The Uncanny Manor (Legends of Tomorrow ficlet)
#FFF29 - Golden Rings - A Crestfallen Wish (Original Story)
#FFF30 - Lethal Flowers - The Effective Solution (Original Story)
#FFF31 - Deep End - The Drenched Nightmare (Legends of Tomorrow ficlet)
#FFF34 - Weeds and Ruins - Collapsed Forest (Poem)
#FFF35 - Locked In - Ploying to Escape (Original Story)
#FFF37 - Strange Lands - Peculiar Sight (Poem)
#FFF38 - Forbidden Knowledge - Concealed Information (Poem)
#FFF39 - Furry Friend - An Eager Keeper (Original Story)
#FFF40 - Mysterious Masquerade - Masked Celebration (Captain America ficlet)
#FFF41 - Blooming Blossom - Neither One Prepared (Semi-Legends of Tomorrow ficlet)
#FFF44 - Hollow Walls - The Vacant Disturbance (Legends of Tomorrow ficlet)
For this week's @flashfictionfridayofficial prompt. Hope I'm not too late :).
This scene has been lying in my head, with a concept too short for a story but too strong to let go. Thanks for giving me the opportunity for a little let out. An undercover agent Kyler and Wes AU - cause I have been watching a lot of cop thrillers lately. :D
---
They meet in the stuffy old garage that smells of dust and mold, water dripping from the broken roof.
Wes looks terrible. It's like he shrunk in the past few months, skinnier, paler, his whole posture small and defeated. His always well-kept curly blond hair is messy and way too short for his style. Hands keep fidgeting, clenching into fists and back.
Kyler's heart mimics the motion, but he wills his face to stay calm. He is the boss. One of the only people on the whole planet who know who Wes really is. What his mission is. And that by default means only he knows how much being an undercover for that manic gangster costs him.
They have to meet in these pathetic places, away and in dark like criminals, when they put the mastermind plan together. When they are getting the evidence to get that lunatic once and for all. When no one else, any police force could do anything, they will.
The determination rings hallow in moments like these. The knowledge they are doing this for something greater, something good that will save and help countless people...countless faceless people that will never find out about the danger that never hit them, about the sacrifices they make.
Kyler gets the respect, the privileges. He gets to wear the nice suit, keep the honors and secrets, hand out the commands. His pay is this sight, the sight of the best agent he knows, his genius, withering away under pressure, risk and lies. Under bloodshed he has to endure, by the role he has to play.
It's the cost of his best friend falling apart in front of his eyes.
Sometimes he thinks Wes knows and so never complains. Never says what he is dying inside to say.
Let me come back. Let me come back already. I can't do this anymore.
Kyler waits for that moment. But they both know it will be over when the words come out, so they don't say anything. Wes gets the intel and leaves out the pain, and Kyler listens and dials down on the comfort. If he offers him something, a kind word, a gesture, a soft tone, Wes might break right then and there.
And neither can afford it. Not yet. Just not yet.
When Kyler watches him leave that night, huddled over himself in those worn out clothes and paranoid looks, while he stand in that rich warm coat, his hands in his pockets and pretends he doesn't see.
That he wouldn't give anything to call after him right now: Come back.