Other A writing competition. Will you join?

Nokumi

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Ok so every month I will write a theme. And you my friends will write a short story based on that theme. It’s a competition so for every story posted that person who posted hasto like one other story to vote. Other than their own. At the end of the month I will do a shout out to the top story with the most likes and crown them the months winner. Every month will be a new theme. And since it’s spooky month your theme for this month isssss


GRAVEYARDS!!!!

The story can be real or fake or a mix as long as it sticks to the theme. Good luck! And since it’s a little into the month when I’m posting this I’ll post it first week after the month has started


the mist is thick and the moon full in the sky. Trees of shadow looming in the dark and tombstones rising from the earth. A lady who looks rather dashing. Dressed in all black. Leads a young boy down the narrow dirt path between graves.

The young boy looks up at the lady and ask “where are you taking me?” The lady without even looking at the boy spoke in a hissing tone “somewhere… you’ll never forget…” causing the boy to lower his head in worry. He couldn’t help but become chatty “grandpa says you still look the same as 80 years ago…. Is that true?”

The lady with a closed lip smirk chuckles a sinister chuckle “indeed. It is true… I am thousands of years old and don’t look a day over 20” the boy in shock gasped “woah…”

The lady halts him. “Look here boy!” She points to the grave with toe shackles and restraints made of a special type of steel and finally a wooden steak “THIS IS WHERE YOULL BE BOY! THIS IS YOUR GRAVE IF YOU EVER SPEAK TO A VILLAGER! The grave of a vampire!!!!”

The boy again gasped. “I don’t wanna be buried like a vampire!”

The lady scoffed and grinned “then do what must be done… stay away from villagers my dear boy”

“Yes mother”

I did some research on vampires and found out some of them had toe shackles made out of some sort of metal (forgot the type) and a steak driven through their heart along with their arms behind their backs in a very uncomfortable way. So I incorporated it into my story
 
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Black, billowing smoke poured from the chimneys, swallowing any feeble attempt by the sunlight to break through the heavy cloud cover. The footfalls resounded among the dilapidated buildings as raw sewage trickled down the open gutter in the middle of the street. Black leather shoes peeked out from beneath the hem of a soot-stained dress, yards of rich velvet painstakingly crafted into a tailored gown. A matching hat and veil concealed the woman's features from onlookers.

Approaching a residence no better or worse than the rest, a gloved hand knocked sharply on the wooden door. Silence enveloped the alleyway once again, broken only by a young voice, that of a child. "Who is it?" The black-clad figure remained silent, knocking once more. The young voice behind the door persisted, "My Mama is not home. You'll have to come back another time." Violent coughing followed the statement. This time, the woman gently folded back the veil of fabric, revealing delicate, fragile, pale features with chocolate brown eyes.
Her gaze shifted to the door, then to the window to the left of it, and she knocked softly. This time, a young girl's face appeared in the window, deep dark circles under her eyes. Unlike the woman, the child's pale skin seemed almost translucent, with visible blue veins on her forehead and neck. Seeing the mysterious woman, the child cautiously cracked open the door.

With no barriers between them, the woman in black knelt to meet the child at her level. "Hello, my dear. My name is Emily. I've been sent here to fetch you." The child stared in silence, taking in the details of the woman's finely crafted black dress, a common sign of mourning.

"Fetch me?"

"Yes, dear. You've been sick, haven't you?" The young girl slowly nodded.

"There you have it. We must be off quickly, or we'll be late."

The child was still confused, but there was something hauntingly familiar about the woman. She looked down at her nightgown, and the woman chuckled softly, breaking the tension. "No need to change, my dear. If it were up to me, I'd wear my pajamas all day."
The child smiled and bit her lower lip. "Now, grab a coat; it's a bit chilly, but do hurry. We don't want to be late."

Isabella, though perplexed, found herself fetching her thick wool jacket and changing her shoes. Stepping onto the cobbled street, she gazed up at the woman again, her beauty striking, yet burdened with a deep sadness. As they walked hand in hand, Isabella began to feel a warm sensation deep within her chest.

"You're going to take me to get better, aren't you?" Isabella blurted out as they continued down the street. The woman nodded and replaced her veil,
"Yes, Isabella."

However, as they walked, Isabella noticed they were getting farther from her home, leaving the town behind. "Where are we going, Miss? Is it much further?" she asked.
"Just beyond the church, my dearest," the woman replied.

They entered the church's gated area and walked beside a narrow dirt path next to the steeple. "I've never been here before," Isabella mused.

"But you have, dear, you just don't remember." Isabella dug her heels into the moist soil and said, "I have not, Madam. I would remember such a thing."

The woman in black drew back her veil and placed her hands on Isabella's shoulders, forcing a smile through her tears. "I know you don't remember, my dear. That's why I was called upon." Frustration knitted Isabella's brow. "You speak in riddles, and I don't like it. I should go home. Mama will be home soon."

The woman stepped back from Isabella, who turned to go home. But the warmth and comfort vanished, and she began to cough violently once again. "Please, Isabella, let me
help you. Let me take the pain away," the woman begged, her hands clenched at her sides.

Finally, Isabella relented and reached for the woman in black. Hand in hand, the pain began to fade, and both felt relief. Isabella gazed at the woman, her lips cracked and her eyes sunken. The woman embraced her, lifting her off the ground. "I am so sorry, my love."

They passed through the old metal gate and meandered among the gravestones. Freshly dug holes caught Isabella's eye, causing her to gasp. They stopped, and the woman knelt, spreading her skirt as a makeshift blanket. She guided Isabella's face to meet her gaze. "Do you remember this place, Isabella?"

"No," Isabella cried, wiping tears from her face. Something felt wrong inside her, or perhaps outside her. Weird fragments of memories swirled in her mind. A crow flew in, landing on a headstone behind her, and the woman hissed at it with a guttural rage, startling Isabella. The crow seemed to respond with cawing and chittering, as if in a strange conversation with the woman.

The woman's hand gently moved across Isabella's shoulders then slowly the gloved hand grew across her cheek.

Tears floated Emily’s brown eyes as she stared down at the girl trying to hold back the waves of emotion as she spoke more quickly now.

“I wish we had more time my dear but the window is closing and I need you.”

Isabella screamed back at her this time, finally unleashing the pent-up fear, “I do not understand!”

“It’s time to come home honey. It is time to rest.”
The girl scrambled back from Emily’s embrace, toppling into the dirt. Clenching the moss and soil she kicked her legs in frustration.

Emily, tears streaming down her cheeks, watched Isabella's breakdown with a heavy heart. The child's cries tore at her own emotions, but there was a duty she could not ignore.

"Who are you?! Why are we here? Where is my Mother?!" Isabella's voice was frantic, her small frame shaking with fear.

The air around them grew dense as the woman in black pulled a handkerchief from the folds of her skirt. Crawling forward, she attempted to blot at the girl's tears, her touch gentle and comforting.

"I am Emily, your big sister. Remember when I passed away when you were little? Well I grew up and I help people like you now. You've been unwell, and Mother has asked me to bring you to a better place, a place where you won't suffer anymore. Mother loves you dearly, she knows it's time for you to find peace. She's waiting for you, my love. We both are."

Isabella's anger and confusion began to fade as she took in Emily's words. She looked into the woman's eyes, and a glimmer of recognition flashed across her face. "Emily? I remember you now."

Emily's tears flowed freely as she nodded. "Yes, my dear. We've always been together, I’ve been watching over you. It's time for you to come back to where you belong."

As Isabella accepted the truth, she reached out for Emily's hand once more. The warmth returned, and the two figures, one in mourning attire and the other in a nightgown, stood together amidst the gravestones and slowly faded into nothingness. Leaving nothing but a crow on a tombstone that read, "Here lies Margret and her loving daughters Emily and Isabella to be reunited on the other side."
 
Does it have to be an original story, or can it be fanfiction? This is the first competition I've ever thought about entering.
Well it hasto be original. But you can make an original fan fiction. It can’t be someone else’s work. So I would be ok with fan fiction. As long as you didn’t steal from someone
 
Black, billowing smoke poured from the chimneys, swallowing any feeble attempt by the sunlight to break through the heavy cloud cover. The footfalls resounded among the dilapidated buildings as raw sewage trickled down the open gutter in the middle of the street. Black leather shoes peeked out from beneath the hem of a soot-stained dress, yards of rich velvet painstakingly crafted into a tailored gown. A matching hat and veil concealed the woman's features from onlookers.

Approaching a residence no better or worse than the rest, a gloved hand knocked sharply on the wooden door. Silence enveloped the alleyway once again, broken only by a young voice, that of a child. "Who is it?" The black-clad figure remained silent, knocking once more. The young voice behind the door persisted, "My Mama is not home. You'll have to come back another time." Violent coughing followed the statement. This time, the woman gently folded back the veil of fabric, revealing delicate, fragile, pale features with chocolate brown eyes.
Her gaze shifted to the door, then to the window to the left of it, and she knocked softly. This time, a young girl's face appeared in the window, deep dark circles under her eyes. Unlike the woman, the child's pale skin seemed almost translucent, with visible blue veins on her forehead and neck. Seeing the mysterious woman, the child cautiously cracked open the door.

With no barriers between them, the woman in black knelt to meet the child at her level. "Hello, my dear. My name is Emily. I've been sent here to fetch you." The child stared in silence, taking in the details of the woman's finely crafted black dress, a common sign of mourning.

"Fetch me?"

"Yes, dear. You've been sick, haven't you?" The young girl slowly nodded.

"There you have it. We must be off quickly, or we'll be late."

The child was still confused, but there was something hauntingly familiar about the woman. She looked down at her nightgown, and the woman chuckled softly, breaking the tension. "No need to change, my dear. If it were up to me, I'd wear my pajamas all day."
The child smiled and bit her lower lip. "Now, grab a coat; it's a bit chilly, but do hurry. We don't want to be late."

Isabella, though perplexed, found herself fetching her thick wool jacket and changing her shoes. Stepping onto the cobbled street, she gazed up at the woman again, her beauty striking, yet burdened with a deep sadness. As they walked hand in hand, Isabella began to feel a warm sensation deep within her chest.

"You're going to take me to get better, aren't you?" Isabella blurted out as they continued down the street. The woman nodded and replaced her veil,
"Yes, Isabella."

However, as they walked, Isabella noticed they were getting farther from her home, leaving the town behind. "Where are we going, Miss? Is it much further?" she asked.
"Just beyond the church, my dearest," the woman replied.

They entered the church's gated area and walked beside a narrow dirt path next to the steeple. "I've never been here before," Isabella mused.

"But you have, dear, you just don't remember." Isabella dug her heels into the moist soil and said, "I have not, Madam. I would remember such a thing."

The woman in black drew back her veil and placed her hands on Isabella's shoulders, forcing a smile through her tears. "I know you don't remember, my dear. That's why I was called upon." Frustration knitted Isabella's brow. "You speak in riddles, and I don't like it. I should go home. Mama will be home soon."

The woman stepped back from Isabella, who turned to go home. But the warmth and comfort vanished, and she began to cough violently once again. "Please, Isabella, let me
help you. Let me take the pain away," the woman begged, her hands clenched at her sides.

Finally, Isabella relented and reached for the woman in black. Hand in hand, the pain began to fade, and both felt relief. Isabella gazed at the woman, her lips cracked and her eyes sunken. The woman embraced her, lifting her off the ground. "I am so sorry, my love."

They passed through the old metal gate and meandered among the gravestones. Freshly dug holes caught Isabella's eye, causing her to gasp. They stopped, and the woman knelt, spreading her skirt as a makeshift blanket. She guided Isabella's face to meet her gaze. "Do you remember this place, Isabella?"

"No," Isabella cried, wiping tears from her face. Something felt wrong inside her, or perhaps outside her. Weird fragments of memories swirled in her mind. A crow flew in, landing on a headstone behind her, and the woman hissed at it with a guttural rage, startling Isabella. The crow seemed to respond with cawing and chittering, as if in a strange conversation with the woman.

The woman's hand gently moved across Isabella's shoulders then slowly the gloved hand grew across her cheek.

Tears floated Emily’s brown eyes as she stared down at the girl trying to hold back the waves of emotion as she spoke more quickly now.

“I wish we had more time my dear but the window is closing and I need you.”

Isabella screamed back at her this time, finally unleashing the pent-up fear, “I do not understand!”

“It’s time to come home honey. It is time to rest.”
The girl scrambled back from Emily’s embrace, toppling into the dirt. Clenching the moss and soil she kicked her legs in frustration.

Emily, tears streaming down her cheeks, watched Isabella's breakdown with a heavy heart. The child's cries tore at her own emotions, but there was a duty she could not ignore.

"Who are you?! Why are we here? Where is my Mother?!" Isabella's voice was frantic, her small frame shaking with fear.

The air around them grew dense as the woman in black pulled a handkerchief from the folds of her skirt. Crawling forward, she attempted to blot at the girl's tears, her touch gentle and comforting.

"I am Emily, your big sister. Remember when I passed away when you were little? Well I grew up and I help people like you now. You've been unwell, and Mother has asked me to bring you to a better place, a place where you won't suffer anymore. Mother loves you dearly, she knows it's time for you to find peace. She's waiting for you, my love. We both are."

Isabella's anger and confusion began to fade as she took in Emily's words. She looked into the woman's eyes, and a glimmer of recognition flashed across her face. "Emily? I remember you now."

Emily's tears flowed freely as she nodded. "Yes, my dear. We've always been together, I’ve been watching over you. It's time for you to come back to where you belong."

As Isabella accepted the truth, she reached out for Emily's hand once more. The warmth returned, and the two figures, one in mourning attire and the other in a nightgown, stood together amidst the gravestones and slowly faded into nothingness. Leaving nothing but a crow on a tombstone that read, "Here lies Margret and her loving daughters Emily and Isabella to be reunited on the other side."
Looks like you won for Halloween! Congrats!!!






I know I been slacking but I really was trying to see if someone else would post for this time. Guess not-



Today’s theme is. “Winter” write a short story on something that reminds you of winter or revolves around winter topics.





they say the last ice age was already completed, and with global warming how things were going you would have assumed so. Above 100 degree summers. But ever since we been doing something weather had gotten crazy all over the globe. Temperatures dropped. Started to rain and snow more. Pretty soon the world froze over.

It started with one really bad winter in Texas. A state where it never snows. But it had a blizzard that year… broke the power in 2021… it progressed from there… got worse… everyone thought nothing of it for a while. Enjoying the snow days. Making snow man. Drinking hot coco. Shoveling the yards…. That is until it became a year round winter all over the world.

Oceans froze over. Buildings became stuck in glaciers of ice and snow. People now buried in their own homes a mile under. Forcing them to try and make tunnels with their shovels. But the tunnels seem to go on and on.

The people who do get out don’t last long…well… how would I know? My parents haven’t returned…I ran out of fire… and it’s getting colder…. I can barely breath or see… wait… a light… I…



Made a mix of Fantasy and reality! Hope you enjoy and hopefully I get more contestants this time!
 
Ooooooo stumbled across this thread and used it to start writing for a project of mine again, here’s the bit that spurred from the Winter theme:

Finding the motivation to leave his nest of blankets was like trying to catch a feather in a snowstorm for Autumn. He had to check on the pair of twins that he had taken in a moon cycle ago. But the livingroom felt like an icebox and Autumn didn't want to give up the cozy warmth of the blankets he bundled up in. Autumn groaned and buried himself deeper into the blankets, trying to savor the warmth he knew he'll be giving up soon. The rapid clicks of footsteps on wooden flooring shattered his last excuse and he shifted the layers on top of him out of the way. Regret rapidly grew as the freezing air touched his skin. He reached out and intended to pat the ground for his glasses but someone grabbed his hand and shoved their forehead against it. The kid's head was warmer than the air, so Autumn wasn't gonna complain.

“Heh? Oh, hey there, you and your twin awake?” Autumn asked while squinting blearily in an attempt to figure out which twin this was. Maybe it was the energetic one? That twin liked to bump their forehead against him for affection. Autumn resisted the urge to rub his face. Light, he needed to give them names.

The hyper kid shook his head, making a shushing motion, and pulled on Autumn’s outstretched arm. The cold air worked quickly to chill Autumn’s exposed arm and Autumn wanted nothing more than to bundle back up.

“Give me a minute, ‘ight? I need my glasses…” Autumn responded quietly, grumbling at the cold as he sat up and bitterly pushed the blankets away. The practically vibrating child then handed Autumn his glasses while rocking side to side. How was the kid not freezing? The two kids’ energy was taking a while to get used to, but so was living on his own.

Hyper twin then grabbed his hand again and energetically dragged him into the kitchen, leaving Autumn to stumble along and very nearly drop his glasses. Though Autumn had to commend him for being able to pull a grown person along, that took some strength.

“Wha’d’you–” the hyper kid cut Autumn off by shoving him towards the window. Autumn's wing shot out to try and help him rebalance and he grabbed the nearest chair.

“Snow!” The twin cheered, jumping up and down while pointing outside.

Snow? Autumn sighed. Well, it was definitely cold enough for it.

“Yea? It's snowin’, so what?” Autumn replied, glaring bitterly at the frozen droplets of water that fell from the sky and got everywhere in your clothes, chilling you to the bone. The pile of blankets called to Autumn, but hyper twin had other ideas. The kid pouted and smacked Autumn's leg a few times in frustration.

“Snow!!” The kid cried, pointing at the window again and flaring out downy feathered wings.

Autumn waved his hand at the window and snapped, “I dun’ understand! Wha’z so special about snow?”

The hyper twin let out a screech, pulled at a portion of hair, then pointed at the window again and switched to Spawn, ‘I wanna play in the snow!’

Oh. The kid wanted to go out in the freezing snow. Sweet light. Autumn rubbed his face tiredly with ice cold hands. Must be the twins' first winter.

“No." Autumn answered firmly. "It’s way too cold for you, you’ll get sick." Autumn smiles nervously and pats the kids head, "let's go back to bed where it’s warm ‘ight?” The kid that, again, he really needed to name, went rigid and looked down, clenching their red sweater with a death grip. His wings trembled and Autumn heard a sniffle. Autumn squatted down to his height and winced. Damnit. The kid was crying. Autumn looked around the kid in an attempt to figure out how to get him to stop.

“Hey, hey, dun’ cry, I promise you can go out when it’s sunny out ‘ight?” Autumn semi-pleaded, hands shaking and hovering as he hopped that compromising with the hyper twin would make him stop. Which didn’t. The kid ran off towards the bedroom Autumn had given up for him and his twin to share and slammed the door. So much for letting the other one sleep.

Autumn didn't even feel mad at the kid for slamming the door. The exhaustion he found consuming him so often lately crept its way into his limbs and weighed them down. Autumn hung his head, resting his arms on his knees. He didn't have the energy to handle this, not with his caretaker having been announced dead three moon cycles ago. How did Sugar deal with raising him if this was how it was like? Light, he just wanted to go back to bed and sleep. Maybe he should ask around and see if anyone wants to take them in…

Autumn took off his glasses and rubbed his nose bridge, his wing drooping enough to lay on the floor.

What in the Six Shades was he thinking? No one but him, a horrible Misspawn, would be willing to take in identical twins. He couldn't just abandon them, and there was no way he was going to be like all the adults when he was a newspawn. But he couldn't do this. He really couldn’t. Autumn had to though, no matter how unqualified he was. If he didn't take care of them, who would?

With a sigh, he got up and warmed a can of soup on the stove and poured it into two bowls with spoons. Then he went over and knocked on the bedroom door.

“Ay, there’s soup on the table for you two, I suggest you eat it before it gets cold.” he announced, hopefully they would listen.

When he received no answer but a response knock on the door, he walked away into the main room and flopped down onto his blanket nest. The floor wasn't the comfiest place to sleep, but it's somewhere. Plus he had some fluffy blankets so it wasn't all bad, even if he made sure the twins had the thickest ones and that left him with the worst of the bunch.

Autumn took off and placed his glasses a safe distance away from his nest so he wouldn't crush them in his sleep, then rebundled himself up. The blankets had grown cold and lost the heat from him laying in them, but he soon fell back asleep despite it. Perpetual exhaustion winning out over the cold.

When he woke up the next morning, he’d glanced at the clock and frantically rushed to get ready for work in fear of showing up late and pay being docked. His promise to the kid forgotten in the rush.
 
Ooooooo stumbled across this thread and used it to start writing for a project of mine again, here’s the bit that spurred from the Winter theme:

Finding the motivation to leave his nest of blankets was like trying to catch a feather in a snowstorm for Autumn. He had to check on the pair of twins that he had taken in a moon cycle ago. But the livingroom felt like an icebox and Autumn didn't want to give up the cozy warmth of the blankets he bundled up in. Autumn groaned and buried himself deeper into the blankets, trying to savor the warmth he knew he'll be giving up soon. The rapid clicks of footsteps on wooden flooring shattered his last excuse and he shifted the layers on top of him out of the way. Regret rapidly grew as the freezing air touched his skin. He reached out and intended to pat the ground for his glasses but someone grabbed his hand and shoved their forehead against it. The kid's head was warmer than the air, so Autumn wasn't gonna complain.

“Heh? Oh, hey there, you and your twin awake?” Autumn asked while squinting blearily in an attempt to figure out which twin this was. Maybe it was the energetic one? That twin liked to bump their forehead against him for affection. Autumn resisted the urge to rub his face. Light, he needed to give them names.

The hyper kid shook his head, making a shushing motion, and pulled on Autumn’s outstretched arm. The cold air worked quickly to chill Autumn’s exposed arm and Autumn wanted nothing more than to bundle back up.

“Give me a minute, ‘ight? I need my glasses…” Autumn responded quietly, grumbling at the cold as he sat up and bitterly pushed the blankets away. The practically vibrating child then handed Autumn his glasses while rocking side to side. How was the kid not freezing? The two kids’ energy was taking a while to get used to, but so was living on his own.

Hyper twin then grabbed his hand again and energetically dragged him into the kitchen, leaving Autumn to stumble along and very nearly drop his glasses. Though Autumn had to commend him for being able to pull a grown person along, that took some strength.

“Wha’d’you–” the hyper kid cut Autumn off by shoving him towards the window. Autumn's wing shot out to try and help him rebalance and he grabbed the nearest chair.

“Snow!” The twin cheered, jumping up and down while pointing outside.

Snow? Autumn sighed. Well, it was definitely cold enough for it.

“Yea? It's snowin’, so what?” Autumn replied, glaring bitterly at the frozen droplets of water that fell from the sky and got everywhere in your clothes, chilling you to the bone. The pile of blankets called to Autumn, but hyper twin had other ideas. The kid pouted and smacked Autumn's leg a few times in frustration.

“Snow!!” The kid cried, pointing at the window again and flaring out downy feathered wings.

Autumn waved his hand at the window and snapped, “I dun’ understand! Wha’z so special about snow?”

The hyper twin let out a screech, pulled at a portion of hair, then pointed at the window again and switched to Spawn, ‘I wanna play in the snow!’

Oh. The kid wanted to go out in the freezing snow. Sweet light. Autumn rubbed his face tiredly with ice cold hands. Must be the twins' first winter.

“No." Autumn answered firmly. "It’s way too cold for you, you’ll get sick." Autumn smiles nervously and pats the kids head, "let's go back to bed where it’s warm ‘ight?” The kid that, again, he really needed to name, went rigid and looked down, clenching their red sweater with a death grip. His wings trembled and Autumn heard a sniffle. Autumn squatted down to his height and winced. Damnit. The kid was crying. Autumn looked around the kid in an attempt to figure out how to get him to stop.

“Hey, hey, dun’ cry, I promise you can go out when it’s sunny out ‘ight?” Autumn semi-pleaded, hands shaking and hovering as he hopped that compromising with the hyper twin would make him stop. Which didn’t. The kid ran off towards the bedroom Autumn had given up for him and his twin to share and slammed the door. So much for letting the other one sleep.

Autumn didn't even feel mad at the kid for slamming the door. The exhaustion he found consuming him so often lately crept its way into his limbs and weighed them down. Autumn hung his head, resting his arms on his knees. He didn't have the energy to handle this, not with his caretaker having been announced dead three moon cycles ago. How did Sugar deal with raising him if this was how it was like? Light, he just wanted to go back to bed and sleep. Maybe he should ask around and see if anyone wants to take them in…

Autumn took off his glasses and rubbed his nose bridge, his wing drooping enough to lay on the floor.

What in the Six Shades was he thinking? No one but him, a horrible Misspawn, would be willing to take in identical twins. He couldn't just abandon them, and there was no way he was going to be like all the adults when he was a newspawn. But he couldn't do this. He really couldn’t. Autumn had to though, no matter how unqualified he was. If he didn't take care of them, who would?

With a sigh, he got up and warmed a can of soup on the stove and poured it into two bowls with spoons. Then he went over and knocked on the bedroom door.

“Ay, there’s soup on the table for you two, I suggest you eat it before it gets cold.” he announced, hopefully they would listen.

When he received no answer but a response knock on the door, he walked away into the main room and flopped down onto his blanket nest. The floor wasn't the comfiest place to sleep, but it's somewhere. Plus he had some fluffy blankets so it wasn't all bad, even if he made sure the twins had the thickest ones and that left him with the worst of the bunch.

Autumn took off and placed his glasses a safe distance away from his nest so he wouldn't crush them in his sleep, then rebundled himself up. The blankets had grown cold and lost the heat from him laying in them, but he soon fell back asleep despite it. Perpetual exhaustion winning out over the cold.

When he woke up the next morning, he’d glanced at the clock and frantically rushed to get ready for work in fear of showing up late and pay being docked. His promise to the kid forgotten in the rush.
Interesting work! Don’t forget to like a post before the end of the month!


Remember folks! One heart! One vote! No More hearts for other than one! You can leave the paint pallet and pen as those won’t affect the votes!
 
Interesting work! Don’t forget to like a post before the end of the month!


Remember folks! One heart! One vote! no More hearts for other than one! You can leave the paint pallet and pen as those won’t affect the votes!
 
Ooooooo stumbled across this thread and used it to start writing for a project of mine again, here’s the bit that spurred from the Winter theme:

Finding the motivation to leave his nest of blankets was like trying to catch a feather in a snowstorm for Autumn. He had to check on the pair of twins that he had taken in a moon cycle ago. But the livingroom felt like an icebox and Autumn didn't want to give up the cozy warmth of the blankets he bundled up in. Autumn groaned and buried himself deeper into the blankets, trying to savor the warmth he knew he'll be giving up soon. The rapid clicks of footsteps on wooden flooring shattered his last excuse and he shifted the layers on top of him out of the way. Regret rapidly grew as the freezing air touched his skin. He reached out and intended to pat the ground for his glasses but someone grabbed his hand and shoved their forehead against it. The kid's head was warmer than the air, so Autumn wasn't gonna complain.

“Heh? Oh, hey there, you and your twin awake?” Autumn asked while squinting blearily in an attempt to figure out which twin this was. Maybe it was the energetic one? That twin liked to bump their forehead against him for affection. Autumn resisted the urge to rub his face. Light, he needed to give them names.

The hyper kid shook his head, making a shushing motion, and pulled on Autumn’s outstretched arm. The cold air worked quickly to chill Autumn’s exposed arm and Autumn wanted nothing more than to bundle back up.

“Give me a minute, ‘ight? I need my glasses…” Autumn responded quietly, grumbling at the cold as he sat up and bitterly pushed the blankets away. The practically vibrating child then handed Autumn his glasses while rocking side to side. How was the kid not freezing? The two kids’ energy was taking a while to get used to, but so was living on his own.

Hyper twin then grabbed his hand again and energetically dragged him into the kitchen, leaving Autumn to stumble along and very nearly drop his glasses. Though Autumn had to commend him for being able to pull a grown person along, that took some strength.

“Wha’d’you–” the hyper kid cut Autumn off by shoving him towards the window. Autumn's wing shot out to try and help him rebalance and he grabbed the nearest chair.

“Snow!” The twin cheered, jumping up and down while pointing outside.

Snow? Autumn sighed. Well, it was definitely cold enough for it.

“Yea? It's snowin’, so what?” Autumn replied, glaring bitterly at the frozen droplets of water that fell from the sky and got everywhere in your clothes, chilling you to the bone. The pile of blankets called to Autumn, but hyper twin had other ideas. The kid pouted and smacked Autumn's leg a few times in frustration.

“Snow!!” The kid cried, pointing at the window again and flaring out downy feathered wings.

Autumn waved his hand at the window and snapped, “I dun’ understand! Wha’z so special about snow?”

The hyper twin let out a screech, pulled at a portion of hair, then pointed at the window again and switched to Spawn, ‘I wanna play in the snow!’

Oh. The kid wanted to go out in the freezing snow. Sweet light. Autumn rubbed his face tiredly with ice cold hands. Must be the twins' first winter.

“No." Autumn answered firmly. "It’s way too cold for you, you’ll get sick." Autumn smiles nervously and pats the kids head, "let's go back to bed where it’s warm ‘ight?” The kid that, again, he really needed to name, went rigid and looked down, clenching their red sweater with a death grip. His wings trembled and Autumn heard a sniffle. Autumn squatted down to his height and winced. Damnit. The kid was crying. Autumn looked around the kid in an attempt to figure out how to get him to stop.

“Hey, hey, dun’ cry, I promise you can go out when it’s sunny out ‘ight?” Autumn semi-pleaded, hands shaking and hovering as he hopped that compromising with the hyper twin would make him stop. Which didn’t. The kid ran off towards the bedroom Autumn had given up for him and his twin to share and slammed the door. So much for letting the other one sleep.

Autumn didn't even feel mad at the kid for slamming the door. The exhaustion he found consuming him so often lately crept its way into his limbs and weighed them down. Autumn hung his head, resting his arms on his knees. He didn't have the energy to handle this, not with his caretaker having been announced dead three moon cycles ago. How did Sugar deal with raising him if this was how it was like? Light, he just wanted to go back to bed and sleep. Maybe he should ask around and see if anyone wants to take them in…

Autumn took off his glasses and rubbed his nose bridge, his wing drooping enough to lay on the floor.

What in the Six Shades was he thinking? No one but him, a horrible Misspawn, would be willing to take in identical twins. He couldn't just abandon them, and there was no way he was going to be like all the adults when he was a newspawn. But he couldn't do this. He really couldn’t. Autumn had to though, no matter how unqualified he was. If he didn't take care of them, who would?

With a sigh, he got up and warmed a can of soup on the stove and poured it into two bowls with spoons. Then he went over and knocked on the bedroom door.

“Ay, there’s soup on the table for you two, I suggest you eat it before it gets cold.” he announced, hopefully they would listen.

When he received no answer but a response knock on the door, he walked away into the main room and flopped down onto his blanket nest. The floor wasn't the comfiest place to sleep, but it's somewhere. Plus he had some fluffy blankets so it wasn't all bad, even if he made sure the twins had the thickest ones and that left him with the worst of the bunch.

Autumn took off and placed his glasses a safe distance away from his nest so he wouldn't crush them in his sleep, then rebundled himself up. The blankets had grown cold and lost the heat from him laying in them, but he soon fell back asleep despite it. Perpetual exhaustion winning out over the cold.

When he woke up the next morning, he’d glanced at the clock and frantically rushed to get ready for work in fear of showing up late and pay being docked. His promise to the kid forgotten in the rush.
Congrats! You’re the winner!

Shame not much other post… I’m really trying to give a Lee way here but it doesn’t seem there’s much interest in this competition. Or maybe it’s just my poor choice in topics?



Your next topic is Valentine’s Day! Doesn’t hafto be happy or have a good ending it can be about anything around valentines! That can be between heart break. To a lost of a loved one you always celebrated valentines with. A friendship valentines? Or rejection. Perhaps maybe even a romance? Either way what ever you choose is fine by me as long as the main theme revolved around Valentine’s Day.




Here’s mine!
sometimes the single people hate Valentine’s Day. With all the fiber of their beings. Why wouldn’t they? It’s a day to be reminded your all alone ones again for yet another year.

How many years has it been? For some it’s only been a few months and they just got over a break up only to tumble back down due to watching everyone else feel the love… and for some it’s been many years alone and it seems no one is right for them. It’s all been one night stands or hell NO!s red flags here and danger signs there.

Even so Valentine’s Day is a day of wonders. Some people ask people out on velentines. Waiting for that perfect moment and valentines happens to be the best shot. Other people choose to not look at this as a day of sadness and keep in the child like mentality that it’s not just for love it’s also for friends! So they call up their friends who aren’t doing anything on valentines and don’t hafto work single or not and they have a friend group day! Some people have been dating for years but… this faithful valentines…. They’re finally engaged and preparing for a wedding! And sometimes. They spend it with family.

Valentines is not just about couples. Or married folks. Or soon to be married! It’s about who you choose to spend it with. Who you share it with. And those you make memories with! It’s all about love. No matter the kind of love! Family love. Friend love. Or partners love. Sometimes even pet/companion love!

happy valentines everyone!
 
Time to see where my writing skill are at! Get ready for the WIN. It might not be as long tho so.

“Good night!” The light switched off and the albino snake hissed he looked around the small container he was in before getting comfortable. The cool air rushed past his face and the audible buzz of the air conditioning comforted him and soon enough his eyes closed.

he awoke in a startled grunt hitting his head on the top of his box before looking over himself he had pale white legs, lanky arms and a strange accessory to his lower area. As he inspected his new additions his owner came in and gasped white as a sheet “W—Who are you?” His owner stuttered over as red creeped over her form and she squeaked “Wait..Fang?” She said and he nodded slowly with an annoyed face he was getting tired of all the questions and was inspecting the patch of fur on his head. She squealed one more time, he was starting to think she was more rat than human at this point before he felt a warm feeling at his side


He awoke once more but there was another snake, an emerald one this time next to him. He sent his tongue out to inspect her and she sent a warning hiss. He closed his eyes and felt the warm feeling at his side again but this time he didn’t mind. The feeling curled around him and he relaxed hearing the low buzz of the A.C. And falling asleep for the last time.
 
Time to see where my writing skill are at! Get ready for the WIN. It might not be as long tho so.

“Good night!” The light switched off and the albino snake hissed he looked around the small container he was in before getting comfortable. The cool air rushed past his face and the audible buzz of the air conditioning comforted him and soon enough his eyes closed.

he awoke in a startled grunt hitting his head on the top of his box before looking over himself he had pale white legs, lanky arms and a strange accessory to his lower area. As he inspected his new additions his owner came in and gasped white as a sheet “W—Who are you?” His owner stuttered over as red creeped over her form and she squeaked “Wait..Fang?” She said and he nodded slowly with an annoyed face he was getting tired of all the questions and was inspecting the patch of fur on his head. She squealed one more time, he was starting to think she was more rat than human at this point before he felt a warm feeling at his side


He awoke once more but there was another snake, an emerald one this time next to him. He sent his tongue out to inspect her and she sent a warning hiss. He closed his eyes and felt the warm feeling at his side again but this time he didn’t mind. The feeling curled around him and he relaxed hearing the low buzz of the A.C. And falling asleep for the last time.
Congrats! You’re the winner!


It’s sad there’s not many contestants. Maybe I need to start pumping this thread- I don’t think I do that anough to my threads… hm….



Today’s theme is. *drum roll*

GODS!!!

Weather it’s Greek. Egypt. Or Asian. Midevil or not! Write a story revolving around some sort of god or many gods if you want! Weather it’s religion or fantasy or perhaps history! ANYTHING GOES! as long as it’s not hateful and it’s about a or many god(s) You can make up your own god too!!!!




Here’s mine!
the walls crumble. The fountain ones flowing with crystal clear water that could heal a wound upon contact stopping its ones constant flow and drying up. The ground ones paved with gold infused marble cracking and the ground beneath it splitting widely into a giant bottomless pit. The god that one’s lived here now angered at the intruders invading in his absence. The adventurers below the 20 foot throne in a panicked state attempt to flee, but before they make the door the exit collapses. “THERES NO WHERE OUT!!!” the lady shouted to the man next to her. Both trembling as the building shook and rumbled. “THERES ALWAYS A WAY OUT! YOU JUST GOTTA FIND IT BEFORE YOU MEET YOUR END! LETS GO!” he grabbed her arm and pulled her as he ran. Dodging falling pieces of stone and rubble as the building whines loudly. The god who owns this very building a massive being appears in his throne, Raising his staff and preparing to finish the job! “WE DONT HAVE MUCH TIME!!” The lady shouts “DO YOU TRUST ME?” “…” “DO YOU TRUST ME!?” “YES!!!” He grabs her arm and runs for a window “JUMP!!!!” the glass shatters as they burst through it. A light brighter than the darkness they were dwelling blinding them. . .

ENJOY THE CLIFF HANGER!
 
I love Mha so.. Here’s a short story!

When the first baby born with a quirk came to, he was there. When his father first struck his sick, younger brother and his quirk awakened, taking away what might have killed his brother and stabbing his father in the side, he was there. When Poor little Tenno Shimura was forced to watch as his family crumble bled to dust within his own hands, He was THERE. Now AFO sat in his perfectly deserved Throne, As the entirety of Asia and almost The hero commission was under his thumb. He adjusted the skull that sat at the very tip of the throne, plucking a singular green hair. “Inko, Inko, Inko. Look what you’ve made me do? He placed it back at adjusted his suit. He stepped out to see a singular yellow scarf streaming in the air and saw a familiar cloud of green hair. Izuku Screamed, “ALL FOR ONEEE-“ and moved. He looked like he teleported and gave the Shigaraki a clean right hook across the face and landed a punch as the body suddenly collapsed like a puppet cut from his strings. “Tsk Tsk Tsk. Poor midoriya! Too late to save the day! Again..” suddenly the world warped in front of the midoriya and he looked up, seeing what was oce the body of poor tenko now spoke with a deep, rich baritone. He levitated as pure power emanated from him and a wicked smile crossed his face “Touch me midoriya! I AM GOD” a building suddenly came flying at midoriya. Time stopped for the midoriya and suddenly he saw a jet black haired woman with a beautiful smile in front of him. “Stand tall Izuku! For you are a MIDORIYA! Now lets see if gods can bleed.” he gave the first smile he’d made in front ever since Uraraka and his family died and cocked back his fist in perfect harmony with the vestige and clenched his buttcheeks. “SMAAASH!”
 
This competitions winner is dragon slayer 57!!!
I love Mha so.. Here’s a short story!

When the first baby born with a quirk came to, he was there. When his father first struck his sick, younger brother and his quirk awakened, taking away what might have killed his brother and stabbing his father in the side, he was there. When Poor little Tenno Shimura was forced to watch as his family crumble bled to dust within his own hands, He was THERE. Now AFO sat in his perfectly deserved Throne, As the entirety of Asia and almost The hero commission was under his thumb. He adjusted the skull that sat at the very tip of the throne, plucking a singular green hair. “Inko, Inko, Inko. Look what you’ve made me do? He placed it back at adjusted his suit. He stepped out to see a singular yellow scarf streaming in the air and saw a familiar cloud of green hair. Izuku Screamed, “ALL FOR ONEEE-“ and moved. He looked like he teleported and gave the Shigaraki a clean right hook across the face and landed a punch as the body suddenly collapsed like a puppet cut from his strings. “Tsk Tsk Tsk. Poor midoriya! Too late to save the day! Again..” suddenly the world warped in front of the midoriya and he looked up, seeing what was oce the body of poor tenko now spoke with a deep, rich baritone. He levitated as pure power emanated from him and a wicked smile crossed his face “Touch me midoriya! I AM GOD” a building suddenly came flying at midoriya. Time stopped for the midoriya and suddenly he saw a jet black haired woman with a beautiful smile in front of him. “Stand tall Izuku! For you are a MIDORIYA! Now lets see if gods can bleed.” he gave the first smile he’d made in front ever since Uraraka and his family died and cocked back his fist in perfect harmony with the vestige and clenched his buttcheeks. “SMAAASH!”
conrats





Todays competition topic is

Parents!

It can be tragic or sad or stressful or heartwarming. Real or fake. Anything goes. As long as it revolves around parents


⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️IF IT HAS ABUSE PUT THAT IN THE SPOILER⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️


Don’t need to trigger people in this thread
 
you know…. People always say you can’t choose your family. Your stuck with the ones your given. Weather your born in that family or adopted into it they always say that rule applies. But what is family? Family is someone who will protect you. Cherish you. Love you unconditionally. No matter your choices. Someone to hold and turn to in times of desperation. A parent is someone you should be able to say “I need to call my dad/mom” when in trouble. Not “please don’t call my dad/mom” it’s someone you trust with even your most darkest secrets. Assuming you trust anyone with anything.

But that doesn’t always apply to all family… some families are way worse. Full of lies and wretched pain. Bonds broken and trust shattered. Fear of getting into trouble especially for something that isn’t your fault.

Yknow what I say? In some cases…. The family you Choose is better. Because we may not be able to choose who were adopted by or who birthed us. But we can choose who we surround ourselves with and who we consider true family. Because true family…. Can be anyone
 
the perfect family warnign: this cotains abuse and homiphibia
when you hear this what do you think of this a family thats flawless or just a title well for me that well is an understatement. my family is not perfect more of the borderline of special everyone in my family has a special place except for me: amytheist lockwood a transfemale 14 year old teenage. why you might ask I guess you could say im the black sheep of the family. now for me the one issue is my parents my parents hate gay lesbian etc. so its hard to survive being trans- female without them smacking (my dad) and /or being verbally critic or harsh about it ( my mom) i hadit hard my siblings were spoiled and my parents began neglecting me and favored my siblings over me. now when i looked at other kids my age i think "what the hell why cant my parents car eor be there for me?" I was lonely until i met them. i know this may sound werid but i met my true parents a gay couple that are skeletons. yup you heard me skeletons. I met them after my best freind plum one of their sons had introduced me to them . and since them they were my true family and parents so maybe in the future if your going through something like that stay postive and maybe just maybe a mircle might happen. (oh and also my parents got in huge toruble for abusing and i got adopted by these skeltons yay!) amytheist signing out~
 
I can't say that I'll be persistent in this, but will try as it's definitely caught my interest.

Forewarning: Parental death
I had known you for twenty-seven years, and within those twenty-seven years, you were everything that a mother should be. You were caring and supportive, beautiful inside and out, and you were always present, always there guiding and observing. And through those twenty-seven years, you taught me how to be strong, how to laugh, how to love, and how to smile. I've told you time and time again how much I have loved you, how much I was thankful for you, and how much I looked up to you.

And yet when I stand here in what I can only describe as the sea, your hospital bed a sinking ship, I can't find any word to express that love. Instead, the adoration I have had for you since the beginning is expressed through the mere hold I have on your hand. A hand that feels foreign from the sickness. Yet I still try. I need to tell you, tell you before it's too late. So I'll take this breath, and try to find the words instead of getting lost in the tears. But again, the words are empty air, fleeting memories, and pleas better left unsaid.

I don't want you to go.

"I love you."

It's hard. It's so hard, and it's so painful. But your groan and the weak squeeze of your hand is encouraging, grounding. It tells me you're still here, if only for a moment longer.

"Don't worry about dad. We'll take care of him."

I want to get it out before my chest caves in from the stress of it all, but the sea is vast and the kiss I place on your forehead feels distant.

"Thank you. For everything. You can go. You don't have to wait for us because we'll be right behind you before you know it."

I'm a broken record after that, and I remind you over and over again that I love you. Because that's all I can think of when I struggle for the words against the torrential downpour of tears. They told me to get everything off my chest, but the sea is pulling me down by my heart strings. Maybe it's because I thought we'd have more time, or maybe because I thought we'd all bounce back from this somehow. And yet here we are in a small hospital room, just you and I, waiting for an end.
 
I can't say that I'll be persistent in this, but will try as it's definitely caught my interest.

Forewarning: Parental death
I had known you for twenty-seven years, and within those twenty-seven years, you were everything that a mother should be. You were caring and supportive, beautiful inside and out, and you were always present, always there guiding and observing. And through those twenty-seven years, you taught me how to be strong, how to laugh, how to love, and how to smile. I've told you time and time again how much I have loved you, how much I was thankful for you, and how much I looked up to you.

And yet when I stand here in what I can only describe as the sea, your hospital bed a sinking ship, I can't find any word to express that love. Instead, the adoration I have had for you since the beginning is expressed through the mere hold I have on your hand. A hand that feels foreign from the sickness. Yet I still try. I need to tell you, tell you before it's too late. So I'll take this breath, and try to find the words instead of getting lost in the tears. But again, the words are empty air, fleeting memories, and pleas better left unsaid.

I don't want you to go.

"I love you."

It's hard. It's so hard, and it's so painful. But your groan and the weak squeeze of your hand is encouraging, grounding. It tells me you're still here, if only for a moment longer.

"Don't worry about dad. We'll take care of him."

I want to get it out before my chest caves in from the stress of it all, but the sea is vast and the kiss I place on your forehead feels distant.

"Thank you. For everything. You can go. You don't have to wait for us because we'll be right behind you before you know it."

I'm a broken record after that, and I remind you over and over again that I love you. Because that's all I can think of when I struggle for the words against the torrential downpour of tears. They told me to get everything off my chest, but the sea is pulling me down by my heart strings. Maybe it's because I thought we'd have more time, or maybe because I thought we'd all bounce back from this somehow. And yet here we are in a small hospital room, just you and I, waiting for an end.
This has easily got my favorite vote. The tears I feel right now. It definitely pulls at the heart strings
 

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