Thursday, October 24, 2013

week 39 fanficflashfic

Here are this week's prompts, chosen by our judge, @magtwi78.

Use one or both to inspire your writing.

For those playing on their phones and mobile devices, the video is Gotye's "Heart's a Mess."

Remember to check the rules

Have your 100 - 200 words submitted by 12:01am Friday, October 25, US EDST.

We want anything and everything: poetry, prose, fanfic, OF. 


Leave your entry as a comment - include your word count, and your twitter handle if you have one.

Probably good practice to reference any source material, too. 

FYI - entries that exceed (or are under) the word limits will not be considered by the judge.

Also, I've had a few questions lately regarding the submission of more than one entry. Yes, you may submit more than one flashfic. I'm going to say a maximum of two (2) entries though. Furthermore, they're not to be continuations, or related to each other in any way -- they need to be completely separate, stand alone entries. 

P.S. Don't forget to follow @fanficflashfic on twitter.


  1. Word Count: 200 @katiewinkles

    I still remember the feeling of his words as they warmed my cheek, the smell of alcohol on his breath, his deep blue eyes so close I could count each eyelash.

    "You look good," he said.

    The memory feels both old and new; so much time has passed. We've been through so much, yet we're still so new - this is still so new.

    With his strong features relaxed he looks like a weight has been lifted from his shoulders; not like the man he should be, but like the boy he was.

    Watching him sleep I want nothing more than to peek inside his thoughts. To see what it is he dreams about, to see the deepest parts of his mind and what he keeps hidden there. Selfishly I wonder if he dreams about me. If he dreams about me the way I do about him.

    My skin flushes at the thought, and I close my eyes, letting the images of my deepest desires flicker across my eyelids. I open them a moment later to find him awake.

    "Dreaming?" he asks, pulling me close.

    I breathe in the smell of warm clean skin and fresh air.

    "Not any more."

  2. Word count: 200
    @ladylibre on Twitter

    He is here.

    Like the night before and every night hence, he is here.

    He resumes his perch at the edge of her consciousness, yearning to divine the secrets of her mind.

    Her endlessly fascinating, eternally silent mind… the bane and blessing of his most recent days.

    His courtly instincts recoil against the intrusion, but he will not be moved.

    Not when the essence of life lies unfettered before him.

    Not when she is here.

    At home, his family calculates, curious and concerned.

    They see infatuation, suspect lust, forecast love.

    He pities their limited understanding, their tired, trite labels.

    For this is more.

    She is more.

    She is earth on fire.

    God’s very breath and fingerprint.

    She rolls onto her back, her rosy lips curving upward at some private thought, and his twitching hand becomes an envious fist. He trembles, feverish with an unprecedented ache, and his soul cries out.

    “Speak, love.” A sound like distressed velvet. “I long to occupy your mind.”

    As you do mine.

    She stirs, dark lashes fluttering against creamy moonlit skin.


    He starts, his dead heart quickening at salvation’s sigh.

    There is a shiver, a strangled groan.

    And he comes undone.

    Alive once more.

  3. Word count: 100 words, on the nose
    Twitter handle: @AnnaLund2011


    My hand grabs yours, fiercely.

    “I’ve got you. Hang in there.” My voice is hoarse, weary from words.

    You look down on our entwined fingers, and start reading the words we painted there during the night.

    “There is power in these words, inked all over our skin,” you say.

    I agree. There are many reasons people get tattoos; some things hurt so deeply you need a physical reminder of what it was like. Or, some things make you so soaring happy, that you need a tangible proof of its passing on your body.

    Like sigils.

    Of faith in our magic.


  4. Word Count: 196
    @honeybeemeadows <---- eep!

    When Asher was seventeen, he got ink poisoning.

    It took twelve ballpoint pens to taste it in his mouth. Metal behind his tongue, jet black night lodged in his throat, but he didn’t tell her to stop. He lay on her flower printed sheets in the dusty rose light of her bedroom while Violet etched her promises into his skin.

    I will never stop wanting to hold your hand.

    I will tell you I love you at least twice a day and will always kiss you goodnight.

    Her neat girlish letters in a steady looping ring, tight and tiny, all the way down his arm. She was already covered in his messy script, uneven and blotchy, so ineloquent compared to her own. Cluttered over the places they were meant for. I will always listen, in the soft spot below her ear. I will help you leap, along the curve of her instep. I will never look away, on the curve of her cheek, just below her eye.

    It only took twelve pens to give him ink poisoning, but he let her exhaust eighteen into him before she finished.

    Tattooed promises that took two weeks to fade.


      word count: 200

  5. Word Count: 199

    I have no idea what day it is, but I know I’ve spent eight days in this bed. Eight days meaning to get out of my apartment and go outside, but unable to find the will to. The only time I get out of my bed is to get some water or maybe something to pick at.

    Sleep takes it all away. It takes away the heartwrenching pain, the silent screams that get caught in my throat, the headaches that come from a brow that stays furrowed longer than it stays smooth. I don’t want him to see my like this. See what he’s gotten himself into. See the absolute low I can reach. I’ve ignored fists pounding on my door, I’ve let my cell phone lose its charge.

    I drift off and wake to someone holding me, someone else’s tears in my hear, his voice murmuring in my ear, “Baby. I’ve got you. I’m here. You don’t have to do this alone. I’m here. I’ve got you. We’ll get through this together. I love you so much.” I wipe away his tears and find a glimmer of the light at the end of the tunnel in his eyes.

  6. Word count:122

    My insecurities are red and full of pain.
    I wear them like a sleeve carved into flesh. Always bleeding.
    Always growing.
    No one will ever know the real me.
    No one will ever want me.
    No one will ever even try.

    He takes my hand.

    His love is solid black.
    He wears it like a tattoo scrawled up his arm.
    Never gray.
    Never wavering.
    He has the faith in me I never have.
    He sees a beauty I forgot long ago.
    He loves me; I'm trying to remember how.

    I hold his hand and open my heart.

    Our love will heal my wounds, leaving bright white scars behind. They will remind me of who I was and who he helped me become.

  7. Word count: 199

    His hand skims mine, the tips of his fingers tracing a line in the blood that coats it. It covers me. My arms. My legs. My chest.

    “Fucking beautiful,” he whispers against my mouth and I taste him on my tongue. Sin and whiskey.

    The knife enters my side. It slices over my flesh and opens me up. His fingers enter me first and I bite my lip, trying not to scream.

    “I’m sorry, baby.” He looks down, his dark hair covering his eyes. “Don’t forget to fucking breathe, you got me? You die here and…”

    “Just get it out,” I beg him and he digs inside of me trying to find the bullet.

    I tremble all over as the blood pours out of my wound.

    “Fuck,” he snarls. “Almost got it.”

    “Baby?” I look at him and my heart sputters as the fight begins to leave.

    “I got it!” he shouts looking down at me. “No.”

    He grabs my face in his hands and cries against my cold lips.

    “Forever,” I say and take in a sharp breath, knowing what he’s going to do.

    “And always,” he closes his eyes and I hear the bullet leave the chamber.

  8. Word count: 198

    His fingertips glide down my naked body, between my breasts and around my navel, barely touching my curls before returning to the dip in my throat. He uses my body like a canvas but, instead of color, he paints me with fire and ice.

    The heat from his touch melts me from the inside and dissolves the ice that formed around my heart years ago. The cool air he breathes against my skin makes my body tingle, excitement flooding my veins.

    He’s been so patient with me, loving and kind, and tonight’s the night I give him everything, all of me.

    I know he’s not like him, the one who tried to destroy me, and I’m ready to show him how much I trust him. Need him. Want him.

    We’ve been connected on a personal level for months, moving slowly, carefully. But, now is the time to unite completely.

    He hovers and kisses me with his eyes locked on mine as he pushes inside, forever destroying the last barriers to my soul.

    Where there was hurt, there is strength. Where there was doubt, there is certainty.

    I’m overwhelmed as we become one. I am healed.

    I am loved.

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  10. @bebeginja
    Word Count: 186

    From the moment your breath left your lips, you owned me.

    Words of love and wisdom sought me out and wrapped around all the pieces of me I thought I was losing, holding me together. Promises and prophesies seeped in through the fissures of my well-worn heart; fortifying and augmenting from the inside out.

    I clung to your words like salvation.

    My debt runs so deep I am in the red. I owe every second of my future to you. But there you stand, now, with your hand held out for eternity. Your love spelled out in black and white. Take it or leave it. Easy as that.

    And I . . . I remain locked away in a tower of my own design, built with walls made from the stones I did not throw. I have spite in my eyes and venom in my veins. My love is so fierce it’s lethal. The fallout of its hold follows me like the train of a wedding gown.

    Let your words come. Seal me and sustain me; they are the antidote to my poison. And I will damage no more.

  11. @Cloe_Marrie
    Word Count: 110

    The Night You Left

    To this day I remember her words. She'd said, "don't worry babe. We'll get through this as we always do," she paused before continuing, "I love you." Then she kissed me on the cheek before walking out the door. She was supposed to have met me for dinner that night but she never showed and never will. I'd found out later that the night she left my home was the night he took her from me.

    He knew she was with child but he didn’t care he just yanked my world apart and shattered my heart.

    I will forever remember that night and her lips on mine for all eternity.

  12. @ChocoMG2112
    Word count: 199

    She reached out and clasped my trembling hand. Her silent face belied nothing of the torment she held within and transferred to me. Through our clasped hands I felt Deyanira’s repeating words flow into me.

    “I miss you. Where are you? How could I kill you? Was it even real? Alessandro, my heart.”

    My eyes flew open in horror.

    “Lehava, does she not know I am searching?”

    She sadly shook her head.

    “No, I touch the painting. I can feel her confused, frightened thoughts, but I know not if she is aware of me.”

    I covered her hand with both of mine. “Take my words and touch the painting. Please.”

    “I will return to you. I will be with you again. My love, please have hope. I will save you.”

    “I don’t understand you, Alessandro.” Lehava’s head cocked in confusion and narrowed her eyes as she appraised me. “It is why I have not killed you. Deyanira is my beloved sister and so I will do everything in my power to keep her happy. And you priest, make her happy.”

    I brought her hands to my lips and kissed them in gratitude. I allowed myself a shred of hope.

  13. Pinkcookie (PM me at
    135 words

    On this night I will not lose. On this night it is your turn to have that feeling of fear in your gut.

    You are not better than me. I won’t make any excuses. I challenge you to be the kind of stand-up guy I know you are.

    There is some little bit of information you never share with anyone. But, I will know it; I’ll pry it out of you – somehow I will.

    You’ve always been selfish; I’ve always loved you.

    I am going to impose my will on you and you will not only do what I want, you will love doing it. It will free you.

    Hold my hand. Don’t be afraid. Let the words tumble from deep in your soul. I will listen. I will be affected by what you say.