• will's attempt at crow's challenge

[wayward will]

♚ crow's writing challenge!!

most of these are probably going to be scenes rather than stories, so i apologise for that

1. "oh, trust me. this is only the beginning."
2. "you're leaving again, aren't you?"
3. "ooh! i wanna come, too!"
4. "you've got to be kidding me..."
5. "good news! all of my bones are still intact!"
6. "we're going to get through this."
7. "crap! the boss is coming!"
8. "say another word and i'll snap your neck."
9. "promise you'll stay by my side."
10. "um... you sure that thing's dead?"
11. "don't you dare take another step."
12. "everybody get down!"
13. "you're an idiot. i'm an idiot. we're all idiots."
14. "i've been framed, i swear!"
15. "you don't look half bad in that dress."
16. "i'm coming with you, and you can't stop me."
17. "you really thought i loved you?"
18. "hey, buddy! look at me when i'm talking to you!"
19. "who stole my cookie?"
20. "fine. then we'll duel for it."
21. "my task is complete- i have no reason to stay."
22. "it's not worth losing sleep over."
23. "that doesn't look very safe."
24. "you sure we're not being watched?"
25. "something's wrong."

26. "you moron! look what you've done!"
27. "i promise i'll make it up to you."
28. "could... could you teach me how?"
29. "i have no weaknesses."
30. "this is your last warning."
31. "oh my god, just shut up already."
32. "please tell me what i'm doing wrong..."
33. "will you marry me?"
34. "the past is what keeps me going forward."
35. "it's just business."
36. "you're the most stubborn woman i've ever met."
37. "it's too late. your friend is dead."
38. "i'd rather be trampled by elephants."
39. "hey, you distracted me on purpose! that's not fair!"
40. "if you think you've got what it takes, show me."
41. "just one more minute, please!"
42. "i have to say, i'm thoroughly impressed."
43. "nobody panic!" ... "never mind, everybody panic!"
44. "put that thing back where it came from or so help me."
45. "don't take it to heart. he's old and cranky."
46. "hey, don't be scared. i'm right here."
47. "what do you say, guys- one last group hug?"
48. "i could not possibly be more disgusted."
49. "you did this all for me?"
50. "it's going to be a long day."

[wayward will]

1. "oh, trust me. this is only the beginning."

word count: 605

Holly felt cold all over. She hadn’t felt cold like this in a long time. Not since the first shivering fits after her resurrection.
The faery man had his hand on her upper arm, pulling her after him, into the tunnel. A sharp smell like pine and earth hit Holly like a wave. She looked over her shoulder. Artemas was shouting something after her, struggling against the arms of another faery, his face open and scared. Holly tried to call back at him, but her words got lost as the world seemed to blur and stretch as the hill swallowed her up.

The tunnel was tall enough to stand up in, the sides made of packed dirt. It was dim, lit only by hundreds of fireflies that glowed on the walls and ceiling. The lack of light didn’t bother Holly— over the last few months, she’d discovered that an apparent side effect of her vampirism was perfect night vision.

“Do not tarry,” the faery said, roughly pulling her forward, “This place is an in-between, and it is not as dependable as constant places.”

“Where are you taking me?” Holly asked, eventually. The faery didn’t slow or turn his head. She hadn’t gotten a good look at his face yet. The hand on her arm had dark brown skin, and his hair was pulled back from his face in a curly, black cloud, exposing his pointed ears. He was wearing a medieval-looking getup, mostly of brown and black leather, and vambraces that looked like they were made of polished wood.

“You are sentenced to the cells of holding,” He said. His voice was slightly accented. Holly thought it might be British.

“For how long?” Holly felt her own voice wavering slightly. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer.

“You have all the time in the world, don’t you, vampire?” The faery said, looking straight at her for the first time. He had surprisingly delicate features that belied his broad shoulders. His eyes were dark brown, baleful. Two small braids hung on either side of his face.

Holly didn’t answer him. You have all the time in the world. Maybe she did. Artemas was, like her, immortal. But there was her family. Not that she could ever see them again, anyway. Maybe she did.

They continued on in silence for several minutes. Suddenly, the faery stopped. He pressed his palm against the wall and, inexplicably, the dirt crumbled inwards until there was a doorway. The faery led her through.

Once inside, Holly saw that the new room was made of stone instead of earth. It was a wide hallway, the ceiling high. It was better lit, with large lanterns throwing white light around themselves. The corners remained in shadow. There were closed doors all along the sides. The faery led her for several more minutes before pausing in front of a door. He pulled a key from a pocket and placed it in the large lock. It clicked as he turned it. He opened the door, and, with no preamble, pushed Holly inside. She stumbled slightly on the threshold, but managed to keep her balance.

“Well, that was unpleasant,” she muttered to herself before turning around to examine the room.

“Oh, trust me. This is only the beginning.” A voice said. Holly flinched slightly, belatedly noticing a person sitting on a stone bench in the corner. She was aware of a head of unruly black hair, a purple dress and a pair of pale hands folded together. Two pointed ears escaped the dark curls. Holly inhaled deeply, fighting down the urge to shout or cry.

[wayward will]

2. "you're leaving again, aren't you?"

word count: 218

Areli shared a glance with Artemas as Trus left the room before following him. He had already gotten to the door of the apartment by the time they caught up with him.

“Trus,” Areli said quietly as he put his hand on the doorknob. He stiffened, his shoulders tensing up under his flannel shirt. He didn’t turn around until Areli put their hand on his arm. He exhaled sharply, but he refused to meet their gaze.

“Trus, are you okay?” Areli said. Trus shifted his weight nervously, his hand still on the doorknob.

“Areli, I’ve been trying to ignore this my entire life,” he said quietly, “All of this… insanity. I thought I was crazy for years, Ari.”

“But don’t you see? You’re not crazy. It’s all real. You were right,” Areli tightened their grip on his arm, crumpling the fabric under their fingers. Trus just gave them a mournful look.

“You still think this is a fairy tale. You don’t get it. I didn’t want to be right. I don’t.” He touched the side of Areli’s face gently.

“You’re leaving again, aren’t you?” they said softly, tears pricking at the back of their throat. Trus inhaled sharply and nodded. He pulled his sleeve free of their fingers, turned the doorknob, and left them standing in the doorway.

[wayward will]

3. "ooh! i wanna come, too!"

word count: 452

Whispers above the small one’s head; it can hear the elder ones speaking, speaking of things far, far away. Their voices are so far above and faint like mist that it can barely comprehend the words.

“We will go so far, far, far away, so far, to places unbeknownst to us or our ancestors who have blazed and died,” one says. Others chorus their agreement, susurrus of many soft voices stretching through the great darkness surrounding them. The small one tries to speak, but its inconsequential voice is lost over the great distances and drowned out by the others.

“Ooh!” It tries to shout, “I want to come, too!”

But its siblings are deaf and blind to its calls and cries as, one by one, they leave. They fall, and fall, and fall, so far down, through the blackness, through the void, their bright, bright fires burning, burning as they rocket down and down, never to return.

Some stay, but they are old and soon to die. The small one is still too young to fall itself. It is trapped upon the ebony folds of night, beaming out its tiny, white light, a small pinprick in the vastness of the sky. It cries and cries, and its tears are silver raindrops, descending like angels through the night. Its cries are as wind in the tops of trees at dusk. Its brethren have left it all alone, and it has no family. No one comforts it for many years.

Long after the others fell and left it, an old, old elder, combusting now so brightly that it will soon be gone, speaks to the small one.

“Little one,” it says, “Do not spend your sparks and tears so vainly.”

“But, I am all alone,” the small one replies, still weeping away its fire, “and they are never coming back to me.”

“They will never return, that is true,” the elder said, “but you can join them, someday.” With those words, the old, old one fell in on itself and was no more. The small one heeded its words and ceased its sorrow, instead glowing brighter, and brighter.

Soon, many more of its brethren were born. The small one, now elderly and large, watched as they blossomed into many colors. Blues, and reds, and golden yellows. Then, one day it fulfilled the dream it had kept within itself for many years.

“Let us go, my siblings,” it said, “Let us go to places new and strange to us.” And with that, it hurled itself from its home, and its siblings did the same, and they streaked across the air, leaving bright trails in their wake, dust and ice and fire, the stuff of wishes.

the grammar in this is beyond incorrect i'm sorry

[wayward will]

4. "you've got to be kidding me..."

word count: 410

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Christer said.

“Is that…. a dragon?” Santana gasped in a theatrical way, her slim hand fluttering meaninglessly. Christer looked at Bríd sharply, his face reproachful.

“You have a dragon?” He asked, sounding almost as though he hoped Bríd would deny the fact. She did not deny it. How could she? There was a small, shiny, spiky baby dragon about as big as a house cat curled up on the couch next to her. It blinked its amber eyes a few times, snorted, folded its wings against its back, and went to sleep.

“Obviously.” She said, stroking the spikes on its head.

“Bríd, how do you have a dragon?” Christer said, pinching the bridge of his nose. He looked like a parent whose child had just brought an armful of horny toads into the living room, and they were now traumatised and shooting blood from their eyes all over the furniture.

“I stole it.” Bríd said in a conversational way.

“Where did you steal a dragon from? They’re not exactly domesticated.”

“Abadín Lós.” A note of pride had entered Bríd’s voice. Christer looked mildly horrified, while Santana stared mutely at the dragon.

“Abadín Lós? Are you crazy?” Christer gesticulated angrily at Bríd.

“I’ve had my suspicions.”

“Bríd, for the love of Állian, take it back.” Christer said. Bríd looked indignant and pulled the dragon closer to her.

“No. It was unhappy there.” Christer sighed.

“Why was it there in the first place? There shouldn’t be dragons this far south.” Bríd shrugged.

“I don’t know,” she said, “But they were keeping it in a horrible little cage and it was all sad and wet and it’s going to live here with me, okay?”

Christer gave her a judgemental look, but said nothing. Santana reached her hand forward, cautiously, for the dragon to sniff. When it showed no inclination to bite her fingers off, she stroked its head gingerly.

“Won’t it burn the place down?” She asked. Bríd shook her head.

“Of course not. It’s only little. They can’t produce real flames until they’re older,” she explained, looking down at the dragon. When she looked up quickly, she caught just a glimpse of Christer smiling. The smile disappeared as speedily as it had come, his face assuming its usual scowl.

“It is kinda cute, isn’t it?” He said, eventually. Bríd nodded as the small dragon puffed steam, happy and warm for the first time in its life.

[Ranger of the North]

hope I can post heeeere These are really good! I like Bríd a lot XD