Wolf Hunting?

Just a little sketch of a sad, overworked man.

The End of A Story

Thanks for the prompt @flashfictionfridayofficial

No warnings, just the end of a little story.

“Stop me if you’ve heard this one before. A horse, a bull, and a goblin walk into a bar…”

The minotaur rolled his eyes before slowly turning his attention back to his pint. 

“It was never a funny joke, Jerry, and I’m a pony anyway.”

The talking ‘pony’ raised her head from a bowl of hay to fix him with a disappointed look that wasn’t half so effective now that her eyes were almost as large as watery cue balls. 

“Ha, then why the long face?”

The minotaur snorted in amusement, not quite pulling his attention from his drink while the talking ‘pony’s ears flicked backward. 

“See I told you that the big guy was the only one that still has a shred of humor left. Anyway, what do you think of the place?”

The barkeep gestured to the ocean waves, lapping against the not so distant shore while giving them a wide smile. He’d gone for a resort look this time, taking advantage of the natural beauty of the coast line to compensate for his lack of decor. If nothing else could be said for him, he was good at making the best of a bad situation

“I like what you’ve done with the place, nice open air concept, now where’s my blasted money Jerry?”

The Goblin face poking over the table top was plastered with a sour expression as he watched the gold swing fron the barkeeps’ ears. 

“Have some more food.”

He placed another plate of carrots in front of the trio and went back to dealing with his other patrons, only glancing back over to their table occasionally to make sure that the group was still content. 

In the relative silence that quickly overtook the quaint establishment, a lone figure approached their table and set down a familiar looking lamp. 

“Ten years already passed… How time flies, but I wonder, are you still interested in changing back?”

There was no outburst this time, no bargaining or desperation that had been so often present in their past encounters. After a moment of silence passed between them, the Goblin grinned, his pearly white smile now mixed with shining golden teeth that complimented his velvet suit coat. 

“No, I think I speak for the lot of us when I say that won't be necessary. Now leave us to our meal, and we shall show you the same courtesy.”

The djinn chuckled ruefully at the results and disappeared, leaving the trio to continue their misadventures. He may have pegged them wrong, but they had been interesting to watch nonetheless, and there would always be others far less resilient to mess with.

What can you tell me about Luis?

Thank you for the ask!

He’s definitely one of my favorites from this story, so I might have gone a bit overboard with the explanation...

Luis is one of the first blood mages to ever be made and serves as a kind of side antagonist in the (Bloodmage) story. His main power has to do with disrupting other blood mage’s control, but he is also able to manipulate blood into various explosive constructs as well.

Due to the unstable mental state of blood mages, he spent a good portion of his early days indiscriminately killing to try to feed the bottomless desire for blood and violence that plagues his species. After growing sick of the conflict but unable to stop himself, Luis resolved to end his suffering but found the task more difficult than he had anticipated. In his lowest point, he was confronted by a tree spirit named Jade, who he instinctively formed an attachment with, creating the first tether. A process by which a bloodmage is able to reign in their violent and bloodthirsty nature by grounding themselves with another living being. This tether does not have to be a romantic connection, but in their case, it certainly developed into one.

With his mind restored, Luis reigned in his race, instructing them on the proper methods to prevent rampant destruction and insanity. As their leader, he acts as the primary representative of blood mages on the cryptid council, a group founded to help regulate supernatural creatures. Of the other council members, he particularly dislikes the fairy king and will regularly keep a pair of brass knuckles made from high-quality iron for his inevitable clashes with the fairy king’s bodyguard (Alasdair).

After his wife is killed by tech witches, Luis informs the council of his intent to wipe out her killers. Refusing to attach himself to another tether, Luis has resolved to get his revenge by any means necessary, even if it is costing him his sanity.

Given her nature as a forest spirit, even if her body is dead, as long as part of her core remains intact there is a chance for her to be saved, but with the teck witches bent on expanding their power he is left wil little choice but to take a more aggressive stance on the matter.

They are a really cute couple, in my opinion, and I love getting to write/draw little blurbs of them being happy together, so thanks again for the ask 😊

Bad Deal

Fairies causing trouble doesn't always go in their favor.

Word count: 307

Warning: some violence, implied/ referenced child death

Thanks for the prompt @flashfictionfridayofficial

“I’ll count your late husband's debt fulfilled with this. Be grateful I don’t come for the next one.”

Leona stared down at the doll in her hand, remembering the bloated swamp fly’s words more clearly than the night they’d been spoken. In her travels, she had often wondered what possible reason that foul being could have had to rip her child away before she even had the chance to hold him. A part of her had hoped that the fay just craved connection to the world like she had. That might at least have made the loss more bearable. 

“DON’T KILL ME! IT WAS MY RIGHT TO TAKE HIM, THAT WAS THE DEAL.”

A gently thump emanated from the burlap bunny, and Leona knew that connection had been the furthest thing from this insect’s mind when robbing her of the last thing she could care for. It had been foolish to suspect anything else from them, but it wasn’t too late to learn from her mistakes. 

“No, you never had any claim to my son… Theo couldn’t have children.”

The insect’s face bunched up in rage, and it shook it small fist’s in the air while screeching. 

“I WAS TRICKED? MY PRIZE WAS JUST A FAKE!?! I DEMAND…”

Frowning in disgust, Leona pierced her bident through the frustrated fay. The heartbeat in her hand fluttered as the creature’s light faded, making her chest tighten. No magic in the world could bring back a body ten years gone.

She’d been too diplomatic, listening to the advice of those who feared the old magic. Gripping her weapon tightly, Leona swore to the boiling rage in her heart that she would not make the same mistake again. Valleys would be turned to rivers, filled with their putrid blood before they came to know the despair she would bring to them. 

Sketch and line art for the judgment room. First sight of the purrberus.

Intro Post

Hi,

I made this blog to try and force myself to be more productive with my original writing/drawing. My success is unfortunately an uncontrolled variable right now.... I am a serial procrastinator and I'm pretty introverted but I'm trying.

Most of my writing tends to be a bit on the darker side and geared towards fantasy, but I dabble in various genres as ideas come to me.

Feel free to tag me in writing games and just to share something that you are proud of. :)

Note: Please let me know If I am ever coming on too strong because I can be a bit dense at times. I'm open to and encourage constructive feedback.

I also have a secondary blog for Fan fiction mostly for updates and fan art.

Side Blog for Fan Fiction

Good luck today/night and happy writing!

Heads Up, Seven Up

Share 7 lines from one of your WIPs

Thanks for the tag, @renasdoodles

I haven't reached the editing faze of my WIP yet, so you just get the unedited insanity that it is at the core.

Taking a deep breath, Owen released his hold. Maren had finally calmed down once he got her out of the water and rested.

Well calmed down in the fact that she was currently unconscious. He still had to go off into the woods to look for anything that could help fight the withdrawal symptoms.

This was fun. Thanks for the tag!

No pressure tagging: @kuebiko-writing @davycoquette +open tag

Spark of Progress

Thanks for the prompt @flashfictionfridayofficial !

Warning: minor science and bugs. Picture has mutated body parts displayed in the background.

Word Count: 395

Story: original snippet, apocalyptic

Cells danced across the lit slide, quickly overtaking the benign tissue and effortlessly mutating the sample. Carl attempted to focus in on the process for any notable variation in its pattern, but after sixteen hours, his dancing vision was persistant enough that he probably wouldn’t catch anything of note even if it bit his face anyway. 

“Sleep, or I’m gonna break that piece of junk.” Pulling away instinctivly, Carl clutched his microscope protectively. 

“Touch it and we all go up in smoke.” His baby-sitter shrugged and picked up the pile of papers that he’d haphazardly arranged for collection. These brutes had their uses but they were far too blunt for his purpouses most days. 

“See anything interesting today?” He shrugged.

“Nothing significant, the infection has been resistant to everything I’ve thrown at it.” Feeling less insecure about the safety of his equipment, Carl leaned back a bit in his chair and raised his coffee to take a drink before he caught sight of something floating along the surface. Pulling it away from his mouth, he set the ceramic mug onto the table and eyed the strange insect floating belly up on the surface. It was obviously infected, nothing that would cause significant damage by itself, but how had a dead infected bug gotten in his cup? 

“You okay?” Carl’s guard was already by his side, checking him for any signs of injury. He knew he wasn’t turning, He’d run enough test to know what turning felt like, at least what people documented it feeling like. Pushing past her, he grabbed a pair of forceps from a loose pile of tools and picked up the bug quickly dragging it over to his work station. Despite his earlier exhaustion a sence of urgency had driven the sleep from his eyes. Quickly preparing a tray, he slid the pieces into place and engaged the magnification. 

Silence settled over the room as he watched the aggressive cells shrivel up and flake apart when contacting the coffee residue. After all this time… Shaking his head, Carl pulled away to grab another sample, he’d have to isolate the cause, figure out what exactly was triggering the reaction. His fingers shook with excitement forcing him to slow down his work for the sake of accuracy. Every moment crawled by in agonizing silence, but If he was right… humanity could finally be saved. 

Empty

Random writing??? Who knows where it came from.

How was it that when he looked into his memories, all that stared back at him were blurred fragments?

He felt that there should have been something concrete there, something to cement him down as whatever creature he happened to be. Shouldn't all creatures capable of thought at least have that much?

Gripping the side of his head in frustration, he stood from the cold ground and stumbled along in the darkness, his vision just as blurred as his memories. A part of him knew this was wrong, that he should know something specific, but like a shadow dancing at the very corner of one's vision, the thing seemed to fade whenever he tried to bring it into focus.

Did he even want to know what he was? The idea bored into his mind like a worm making him question the only purpose he had managed to latch onto. Like some cruel tyrant it seemed determined to smother his confidence in the matter, making him all the more egar to pursue what he was.

There was something in that he supposed, some drive that he hadn't been aware of the moment before. It appeared that for whatever else he might be, stubborn was a part of it.

Desire Or Dispair

I would be much abliged if you could share a snippet of your character(s) experiencing either a moment of desire or despair.

Desires for anything from food to people and Dispair from betrayal to loss, I'm interested in how other people's characters express themselves.

Idk where this came from, but I figured it might be fun.

No pressure tagging: @renasdoodles @kuebiko-writing @wyked-ao3 @creatrackers ,

@somethingclevermahogony @laisley-writes @leahnardo-da-veggie +open tag

My own contribution below the break.

Warning for mentions of injury and medication administration.

Desire: Broken Script

Stepping forward onto the balcony with a glass of wine held lazily in his hand, Nihil examined the guests with a bored expression until his eyes landed on Alexia. The glass fell uncerimoniously from his hand as Nihil recognized the familiar robe that had somehow been fashioned into a dress.

As the glass shattered, Alexia looked up at him with a coy grin, batting her eyes in a playfully taunting gesture.

A smile played at the corner of his own lips as he considered her challenge. He'd never bothered to dip his toes in the field of romance before, but she was well on her way to changing his mind.

Despair: Blood Mage

Hati could tell that the injury on his neck was nothing to scoff at, that he might die here to a blasted Vampire after surviving all of thease years, but seeing Billy's arm being torn off so easily by the rampaging vampire made his blood run cold in a way he hadn't felt since he was burried under a mound of dirt watching his people being torn to pieces.

The hiss of pain that followed the creatures sudden retreat sent his brain into overdrive as the worst-case scenarios flooded into his terror stricken mind.

He couldn't lose his family again, not to the tech witches, and definitely not to some overgrown leech. Scrambling towards the snipper, he began babbling incoherently at the oozing injury until something cold peirced his neck, and he caught a quick glance of Owen before crumbling into Billy, panic still coursing through his veins.