forum Virtual Creative Writing Club, anyone?

Started July 06, 2019 by @ninja_violinist

tune

Idk i wrote a lil something-
I've been trying to get more inspired lately-
so here ya go
it's not great, and i really struggled with the last couple lines-

And he stared at the river,
The path that lay before him,
Bursting with journey and adventure,
The castle so close
And yet so far away

The man sighed,
And he took a step,
Bringing him one step closer
To the castle

The dragons roared,
Griffins squawking,
And the thunder rumbled

None wanted this to happen,
But here he was,
About to defy nature,
As he set foot
Onto the endless road

The road of adventures,
Journeys,
Excitement,
And so much more

The never-ending road,
Full of twists and turns,
And lakes and rivers,
Hills and mountains,
And cities and towns.

And so he marched on,
All whilst the fiery sun blazed high up in the sky,
The thunder rumbled,
And the earth growled

So, while I'm being desperate, and putting on some music and searching for images that might spark inspiration, here's another one. Shorter, but I think it's better quality. I messed up the ending again, though-
~
Would you believe it?

Upon the icy hills and the mountains, there she stood. Hair as black as ebony, skin as fair as snow- everything about her stood out. The wind whipped her hair behind, and the ocean lay before her. The girl looked up to the sky, smiling. She knew everything would be alright. And as the waves crashed against the cliff below her, she sat down, legs dangling over the edge, and raised the instrument she carried in one hand to her lips. Soon, the waves grew, and she knew it was time. As she blew air into the silver, silver flute, the wave shuddered to a stop and came crashing down again, back where it belonged.

Would you believe it? I would. I do believe it. And you want to know why? Because I was that girl, who stood upon those cliffs, who stood up against the fierce winds, and the girl who stopped the ocean from consuming her. Could you believe it?

i think you'll be seeing a lot more of me!
i've gotten pretty inspired recently
so here's my latest one-
~
"Help!" he cried out silently, tears brimming. "I need help…"

But they ignored his silent pleading, and went on with their lives. "My love," one said. "Just stay quiet, and don't make a noise. Do what we tell you to," they continued, in a sickly sweet voice.

He felt their icy cold fingers gripping his arm tighter and tighter, and he found himself nodding. "Yes Mama," he whispered, and lifted a hand to wipe the tears away. He would have to stay in the closet just a little longer, then… The sudden relief of the pressure felt so good, but then it stung. He had to bite his lip to keep the tears from forming. You've got to stay quiet, and do as you're told, he reminded himself. So you can't cry, not yet. Just stay strong…

He didn't know how much longer he could live this way. Constantly being oppressed, used, wasted, discarded like trash… what was even the point? Ever since they were told of what would happen, things had changed. The life he'd once known, the people he had thought he knew, and the friends he thought were his friends… none of them had stayed. He was all alone.

"Now, now, honey," he heard, and clenched his teeth at the sound. It was her again. Just don't feel anything, he told himself. Block out the emotions, you can do this. "Look at me. Good boy. Now, you don't want to disappoint me, do you? That's right, you don't. So would you be a dearie and keep everyone preoccupied for me? I would like to be alone for a little bit," she continued, not waiting for him to answer.

Nodding numbly, he got up to 'entertain' his so-called 'family.' He knew he would ultimately fail at the task he'd been given, but the longer he could keep them from disturbing her the better. Maybe if he could hold her off long enough, he could escape the punishment? He shook his head, knowing better than to reach out for hope.

"Elise-" he started to say, but remembered. With a sick feeling, he started over again. "Mom, Dad- would either of you like to play a game?" His voice betrayed no emotion, but he couldn't help the slight tremble that came over him. God, he hoped that they wouldn't think he was toying with them. He'd never thought about doing that in his entire life! In fact, if anyone was toying with him, it was her.

"You know we'd rather you call us Mom and Dad, so you have to get out of the habit of calling us by our first names," 'Mom' said coldly. "And no, we're fine here by ourselves, before you so rudely interrupted us, thank you very much," she finished, and turned her head, dismissing him.

Mission failed, he realised. He knew the punishment would be harsh tonight then. At least he'd be prepared this time. He turned to exit the room, intending to let her know what had happened, but he suddenly remembered that she had never told her what to address her by. He'd have to go with "Excuse me," and hope that wasn't 'too rude' for her.

-to be continued (or not)-

i think i might be dying. i've been so busy lately that i'm forced to put writing on the backburner and let me tell you, it feels like losing who i am. anyway lmao, here's Big Sad. i had this rule that i wasn't allowed to write sad poems for a while, to see if maybe they weren't helping as much as they would have been if done sparingly. i was right ig, but then i caved. there's been so much on my mind, so,,,
this one's a bit of a different style, kinda shorter and whatnot, but it helps keep that flow goin

---

You shouldn’t worry so much.
Your parents’ mistakes weigh on you like the sky,
Atlas, pretending nothing bothers you as much as it actually does.
You are smarter than them, stronger than them
You care too much to be them.
You are not them.

So why do you stay up so late at night,
Shaky hands, shaky voice, phone in hand.
The blue light of your screen will not numb the pain
But you refuse to talk unless you’re dying,
Too tired to think.
The first step to not repeating the past is admitting
That the past is not what scares you.

You say ‘I don’t want us to break’ so often
That I hear the phrase in your voice when I think it.
I don’t know how to tell you that I think,
If we were to break, shatter into so many pieces
That the king’s men could never put us together again
It would be my fault.
Not yours.

You’re only honest at night.
Two AM conversations only I remember, bottled up,
You’re not the only liar.
I refuse to let it get to me
Prometheus, stomach torn open as everything inside me is ripped away,
I wonder if I’m doing this for me or for you.
But soon enough the chains will break,
I won’t let you go but I wonder if I can keep that promise
Promises are so important to you.

If it fails, blame me.
Don’t blame yourself.
Because it was never you, rather,
My bloodstained hands and ‘I’m sorry’s
It’s going to be my fault.

Crocs inspired me to do a Sad for myself as well, so sorry to y'all, lmao

---

I made a mistake.

That single phrase was the only thing that fired through his mind as Rhydar shot through the air.

His father had been a fool, starting this war in the first place. Unfortunately, he had passed on that foolish recklessness to his eldest son, who had been all too eager to step in and take on an extremely dangerous and risky job. Their hundreds of fallen soldiers were counting on it, the hundreds of dying soldiers were counting on it. If Rhydar could pull this off, then they could finally get an edge in this war, finally have a chance at winning.

~

"Captain, this has to be done! If we don't get this parchment to our troops on the other side of the valley, we don't stand a chance with the dwindling supply we have left!" The king slammed his dagger into the table, the hilt wobbling from the force. He was an imposing man, especially with the heavy armor covering his natural bulk. Even when bent over the war table, with that displeased scowl on his face, he loomed over the captain of his armies; made the war-trained brute seem like a mere schoolboy.

However, the captain refused to be bullied into submission. He stood up straight, eyes hard and narrowed behind his helmet. "Your Majesty, with all due respect, it's impossible to get anyone across that large of a battlefield without getting them killed. If they're caught with this parchment, then we might as well surrender—or be massacred. Our supporting troops will be slaughtered, our allies—compromised. Our supply lines will be cut off and destroyed."

The king snarled at the captain, causing the other man to retreat just a step. Before any profanities or words to regret were spilled, the sneaky crown prince slipped fully into the room and opened his mouth. "I can do it." Both men whirled around to look at him—at the scrawny boy just barely eighteen. Rhydar held his head high and didn't let them scare him away. "I can do it," he repeated with more conviction in his voice, "I'm good at getting around people. I'm fast. I don't have to cut my way through the battlefield."

Both men considered him, not shutting down the idea instantly. That gave him hope, hope that he could finally be something more than the thief, the disappointment. The king and captain exchanged a look, then the former nodded and straightened. "Good. Don't disappoint me again, Rhydar. This is your chance to regain my respect." That coldness in his eyes had the crown prince cringing inwardly and averting his eyes outwardly as he nodded, perhaps too eagerly.

The bargain was struck. He was to deliver the parchment within the hour.

~

The wind. It stung his face, whistled in his ears, dove under and over the raven-black wings that cut through the air like razors. The muscles on his bare back went taut and flexed with each flap of the giant limbs, straining to keep him afloat. It took lots of dedication and training to get strong enough to fly. He loved it all, always finding an excuse to taste the sky and touch the clouds.

But today was different. The clouds were dark with ashes and smoke. The air had the tang of blood and the screams of the dying. It fought back against his goal, switching directions like a haywire compass. It was trying to warn him, but he wouldn't listen. This needed to be done.

He didn't see the chains until it was too late.

His own screams joined with those ringing in his ears as the barbed metal dug into his skin, threatening to tear off his franticly beating wings right off his back. He thrashed and fought to stay in the sky, but something came at him, triggering his instinct to drop down. Closer and closer, the ground came rushing towards him. He'd hit before he could stop at this rate, and he knew—he knew— that the action would tear them off, but it was still pure instinct to flare his wings to stop his fall.

Rhydar's throat felt raw as he screamed in agony, feeling the blood rush down his back. The weight of the chains was gone, which should've relieved him, but that could only mean one thing. He didn't want to think about that, didn't want to dwell on the added relief of weight.

Teeth gritted painfully, fingers dug into torn-up dirt. Excruciating seconds passed by as he attempted to pull himself up to stand, to do something. He had to do this, had to make his father proud. He couldn't quit now that he was so close.

Once he was standing, a hand braced against a smoking tree, Rhydar let out a pained breath and glanced around. He couldn't see anyone near him, but he couldn't risk it. Ignoring the pain radiating through his body, he forced on, slipping away from the battle and into the trees, doing what he did best.

Once again, I'm nothing more than a criminal fleeing from his mistakes.

that all being said, have some promtps!

Music: "Constellations" by the Oh Hellos

---

Image: "Fade Away" by Yuumei

---

word: from "Price We Pay for the Sun" by Grace Nichols

Poverty is the price
we pay for the sun girl
run come

This is a scene from a WIP loosely based on the image and (a very loose interpretation of) the word prompt as well.

oooo, i like it! its got some intrigue, and a bit of mystery to it that i love. i wish i could muster up some sort of a critique, or at least something more to say, but i'm horribly exhausted and very much preoccupied. but it is really good!

part of my preoccupation is a question i have for everyone here. for a little bit of backstory, i'm in the process of building a website, and that led me to creating a business email. circe suggested i use a line of my poetry for a profile image on the email, and i figured, if anyone could help me decide which one to use, it would be this chat. so if you guys have any suggestions, let me know!

sorry for the long wait, y'all!
in return, have an obscenely long wall of text! :D

@izzy-is-depressed
poem: I really like the vibe you've got going! there's a very nice dichotomy between exciting adventure and journeys and a hint of a reluctant or at least mildly hesitant protagonist, as I gather? it makes for a super fun tension in language and I think you've brought that across really well!
I think, just like you said, one part that's definitely open for revision is the structure, especially the last few lines. I'm 100% more pedantic when it comes to last lines, because I'm in the camp that has a lowkey expectation of a final punchy bit that sort of ties the whole thing together. If I'm right and the vibe is a sort of epic, adventurey thing with undertones of "can I really do this, there's something a bit ominous about this" maybe it'd be possible to unpack that in the last lines?? sort of a "and so he marched on, there's tension in the air, but he keeps going regardless" kind of feeling? (clearly, I don't write enough poetry to be giving this kind of advice.) but I really enjoyed it either way!

drabble: oooh, this is very interesting? I have no context, so I'm not 100% sure that I know what's going on, but I really love the concept! loving the super vivid imagery!
It's a bit short for me to say much about it, except that it seems a bit fast-paced in contrast to the kind of slow, descriptive vibe it has? if that even makes sense? like there's almost a new action in every sentence, but the overall feeling feels like we should be spending a bit more time on each of them, just because the images are so vivid and deliberate.
(boy I wish this made sense. anyway.)

longer prose: oof, this one's a bit heavier than the other ones. Lots of tension, lots of emotions going on - I like how you're showing their dynamic in their dialogue and the way they interact with each other!
I do wonder a bit about the setting - it seems to leap around in both space and time, through different events that are sort of conflated into one stressful thing if that makes sense? like the snippets of dialogue match, but they don't seem like it's all the same conversation. So once again I'm going to be the wet pacing blanket and wonder if there's a clearer way of signposting this to the reader. but other than that, really well done!

thank you so much for all you shared this week!! hopefully the inspiration stays strong with you!

@its-crocs-and-circes-anniversary
is it bad that I think Big Sad is really good, from like,, a writing perspective? like don't get me wrong, I love your other stuff and especially the wholesome things end me because I can't handle such genuine happy emotions. but then you write something like this and it hits me like a gut punch. (like, an artistic gut punch where I can appreciate its beauty even as it hurts me.)
anyway.
stellar imagery, on-point allusions, excellent word choice because how the flip do you put this kind of tension into such delicate, deliberate phrases
favourite line: "The blue light of your screen will not numb the pain/ You refuse to talk unless you're dying/ Too tired to think." because how dare you put that into such even, precise words that cut right to the core and also into my heart. who authorised you.
and to literally no one's surprise, I'm going to be unnecessarily picky with the last lines as usual. I really like them as is, and they do tie up a lot of the themes you've been dealing with. but at the same time, reading through the last three lines specifically, it feels like there's just a hint of clunkiness? just because I'm not entirely sure if the last line is part of the previous sentence or not. It feels like there could be something else between "bloodstained hands and 'I'm sorry's'" and the last line, something to finish that sentence and then have "It's going to be my fault" stand on its own. if that even makes sense? idk.
anyway if the point of Big Sad was to hurt me but also make me impressed with how beautiful the instrument of hurt was, then congratulations! goal absolutely achieved.

(as for the question about a profile image, I'm probably the last person who should be answering this because I'm like… in love with all of your imagery, forever. need I remind everyone of the glory of mechanical heart blueprints or of dragon teeth and blood red lips? But I'm particularly partial to "your halo may be wrapped in thorns", myself)

@Dances_with_Shadows
fdhdhfshjkfds being inspired by crocs is apparently dangerous because then you come up with raw, painful, beautiful pieces like this.
the tension?? the characterisation?? the imagery?? the description? the pacing? brilliant, the whole lot. I'm here for it. I'm in pain, but I'm here for it.
Quick note about semicolon use - as far as I know, a semicolon should connect two clauses that could work as fully functioning sentences on their own. They just relate so strongly that it makes more sense to smash them together, but grammatically they do need to be full sentences. So as far as I can tell "made the war-trained brute seem like a mere schoolboy" is not strong enough as is to come after a semicolon because it doesn't have a subject. I do see the appeal in using it there, since you've been listing with commas and this is like its new own thing, but as far as I know it's not 100% correct.
I'd also caution against excessive exposition through dialogue - while it's not a problem here yet, this text does vaguely move into the general neighbourhood where I'd be cautious of it. Having the king mention the exact specifics of "we need to get this thing to these people who are right there because this", especially considering that it seems to come at the tail-end of an argument where both men already know what they're talking about, lets the reader know what's happening but it may be a tiny bit heavy-handed. How much of that information is strictly necessary, and how much needs to be revealed immediately rather than as we go?
just some things to keep in mind.
anyway. thank you for sharing!!

@cue-nervous-humming
actual critique is on the way for Saturday, just wanted to say welcome back!! haven't seen you around in a bit, so I'm glad you dropped by!

@izzy-is-depressed
poem: I really like the vibe you've got going! there's a very nice dichotomy between exciting adventure and journeys and a hint of a reluctant or at least mildly hesitant protagonist, as I gather? it makes for a super fun tension in language and I think you've brought that across really well!
I think, just like you said, one part that's definitely open for revision is the structure, especially the last few lines. I'm 100% more pedantic when it comes to last lines, because I'm in the camp that has a lowkey expectation of a final punchy bit that sort of ties the whole thing together. If I'm right and the vibe is a sort of epic, adventurey thing with undertones of "can I really do this, there's something a bit ominous about this" maybe it'd be possible to unpack that in the last lines?? sort of a "and so he marched on, there's tension in the air, but he keeps going regardless" kind of feeling? (clearly, I don't write enough poetry to be giving this kind of advice.) but I really enjoyed it either way!

drabble: oooh, this is very interesting? I have no context, so I'm not 100% sure that I know what's going on, but I really love the concept! loving the super vivid imagery!
It's a bit short for me to say much about it, except that it seems a bit fast-paced in contrast to the kind of slow, descriptive vibe it has? if that even makes sense? like there's almost a new action in every sentence, but the overall feeling feels like we should be spending a bit more time on each of them, just because the images are so vivid and deliberate.
(boy I wish this made sense. anyway.)

longer prose: oof, this one's a bit heavier than the other ones. Lots of tension, lots of emotions going on - I like how you're showing their dynamic in their dialogue and the way they interact with each other!
I do wonder a bit about the setting - it seems to leap around in both space and time, through different events that are sort of conflated into one stressful thing if that makes sense? like the snippets of dialogue match, but they don't seem like it's all the same conversation. So once again I'm going to be the wet pacing blanket and wonder if there's a clearer way of signposting this to the reader. but other than that, really well done!

thank you so much for all you shared this week!! hopefully the inspiration stays strong with you!

Thanks! I do too aha

@Dances_with_Shadows
fdhdhfshjkfds being inspired by crocs is apparently dangerous because then you come up with raw, painful, beautiful pieces like this.
the tension?? the characterisation?? the imagery?? the description? the pacing? brilliant, the whole lot. I'm here for it. I'm in pain, but I'm here for it.
Quick note about semicolon use - as far as I know, a semicolon should connect two clauses that could work as fully functioning sentences on their own. They just relate so strongly that it makes more sense to smash them together, but grammatically they do need to be full sentences. So as far as I can tell "made the war-trained brute seem like a mere schoolboy" is not strong enough as is to come after a semicolon because it doesn't have a subject. I do see the appeal in using it there, since you've been listing with commas and this is like its new own thing, but as far as I know it's not 100% correct.

Yeah, I was debating on if that was correct or not, but didn't dwell on it for long and just hit post before I second-guessed the entire thing. I'm still teaching myself semi-colins.

I'd also caution against excessive exposition through dialogue - while it's not a problem here yet, this text does vaguely move into the general neighbourhood where I'd be cautious of it. Having the king mention the exact specifics of "we need to get this thing to these people who are right there because this", especially considering that it seems to come at the tail-end of an argument where both men already know what they're talking about, lets the reader know what's happening but it may be a tiny bit heavy-handed. How much of that information is strictly necessary, and how much needs to be revealed immediately rather than as we go?
just some things to keep in mind.
anyway. thank you for sharing!!

Ack, I didn't even realize that at the time. Thanks for the pointers, and you're welcome for causing you pain ;)

@its-crocs-and-circes-anniversary
is it bad that I think Big Sad is really good, from like,, a writing perspective? like don't get me wrong, I love your other stuff and especially the wholesome things end me because I can't handle such genuine happy emotions. but then you write something like this and it hits me like a gut punch. (like, an artistic gut punch where I can appreciate its beauty even as it hurts me.)
anyway.
stellar imagery, on-point allusions, excellent word choice because how the flip do you put this kind of tension into such delicate, deliberate phrases
favourite line: "The blue light of your screen will not numb the pain/ You refuse to talk unless you're dying/ Too tired to think." because how dare you put that into such even, precise words that cut right to the core and also into my heart. who authorised you.
and to literally no one's surprise, I'm going to be unnecessarily picky with the last lines as usual. I really like them as is, and they do tie up a lot of the themes you've been dealing with. but at the same time, reading through the last three lines specifically, it feels like there's just a hint of clunkiness? just because I'm not entirely sure if the last line is part of the previous sentence or not. It feels like there could be something else between "bloodstained hands and 'I'm sorry's'" and the last line, something to finish that sentence and then have "It's going to be my fault" stand on its own. if that even makes sense? idk.
anyway if the point of Big Sad was to hurt me but also make me impressed with how beautiful the instrument of hurt was, then congratulations! goal absolutely achieved.

(as for the question about a profile image, I'm probably the last person who should be answering this because I'm like… in love with all of your imagery, forever. need I remind everyone of the glory of mechanical heart blueprints or of dragon teeth and blood red lips? But I'm particularly partial to "your halo may be wrapped in thorns", myself)

my last lines are always the clunkiest, which is why coming here with them is great. is it weird that i have the poem open on another tab and am literally editing the last lines right now? but in other news, i'm glad you liked it in a horrible, sad way hjfshjfs. this Big Sad was needed because some shit's going down but not at the same time? mostly just happening in my mind i think and i needed to put it on paper.

and the profile question answer. i. hjdhsd i think thats why you're the perfect person because you always seem willing to pick out your favorites. i didn't realize an of my lines stood out that much but i'm glad they did, 'cause that's always my goal when writing. honestly? you right, that's a great one for something like that?? so thank you!!

So uh. This one isn't a break-your-heart one (I know, I'm departing from my norm lmao) it's mostly just…fluff. Rather cliche fluff that I had a great time writing. I hope you enjoy lol

---

"Sol!" Arunathi's voice carried into Sol's room. "Hurry up! We're going to miss the Tainya!"

Sol painstakingly applied the last swipe of sky blue makeup to his cheekbones. His long, caramel colored hair was bound back in a series of ornate braids, some strands dyed the same blue that accented his eyes and cheeks, a light silver glitter powder dusted over his whole face and neck.

"I know, I know. Just let me get these last touches, Aru! Besides, you're already Matched." He finished the last touches, golden eyes gleaming in the light. He turned to face his best friend, smiling lightly. "Well?"

Aru's eyes gleamed. "I think that not even the prince could say no to you." Aru had dressed in the traditional masculine style: natural makeup; a button up shirt; black pants; boots, with the pants tucked inside; and his dark hair in lots of tiny braids, gold threaded into them.

Sol let out a faint laugh, dabbing jasmine scent into his wrists, collarbone, and cheeks. "Yeah. I hope so. If I come home Matchless again… he'll follow through on his threat. It won't be just a beating this time. He'll…he'll turn me into a prostitute, and then no one will want me." Unlike Aru, Sol was dressed very differently from the norm. While he was male, he also found himself a bit farther down the non-binary spectrum, and had dressed in a sumptuous hybrid of the two main styles.

Sol had chosen a gorgeous sky blue as his main color, his pants the looser, skirt-like style popular among the more feminine portion of the population. His shirt had no sleeves, and he wore a slim, silver belt at his waist, accentuating his slim, lithe form. A loose cape buttoned loosely at his collarbone, the material sleek and lovely. It was darker on the inside layer, with silver embroidered throughout. He wore only small sandals on his feet, and silver anklets wrapped around his legs, matching bracelets and rings on his wrists and fingers. A silver choker with a blue gemstone lay snug on his throat. Silver detailing at his hips glimmered faintly with each step.

"He won't do that, Sol. It's a baseless threat." Aru comforted. "Now come on. Let's go find you a Match. Mayra's going to meet us there."

Sol shrugged loosely. "I don't want to find that out the hard way, Aru. Let's go." He took his friend's arm, and they started walking towards the ballroom. Halfway there, Sol paused. "Maybe I shouldn't have worn this. It's too…most people wear something more traditional, what if…people are going to think I'm a…a slut, I…" He swallowed hard.

Aru looked at him. "Sol Aelum, you pay attention to me: you are gorgeous. If people think you're a slut, well, they don't know a thing about you, and they aren't good enough for you. Tradition can go fuck itself. You look beautiful."

"But…but what if I don't get a Match…" He trailed off, looking up at his friend with worried eyes.

Aru snorted. "Pah. If you don't get a Match, then none of those men have good taste. Not even the prince, if he passes up a chance like this. D'you hear me?" His grey eyes bored into Sol's golden.

Sol nodded slowly. "I…I hear you. Thank you." he replied in a slow voice.

Aru bowed his head slightly. "Of course. Now let's go."

They reached the ballroom, where they met up with Mayra, Aru's Match. Mayra and Aru went in first since they, as a Matched couple, were seen as a bit more important than Sol.

"Lord Arunathi Inkara, and Lady Mayra Inkara!" Came the announcement, and then it was Sol's turn.

"Valrun Sol Aelum!" Valrun. His title. He was of higher status than Aru, as a Valrun was a highly influential position, but it was also an inherited one, and he was not yet technically a full Valrun, as his father had yet to step down.

He paused at the top of the staircase, taking in people's reactions to his clothing: many stared. Some sneered. Other seemed…appreciative? Others, he couldn't tell.

He descended the stairs, trying to calm down. Aru and Mayra came over as soon as he was down the stairs.

"How are you feeling?" Mayra asked. She was a lovely woman, fair haired.

"One of these people is my Match!" Sol replied. "Or could be. And I'm…I'm terrified." His hands were trembling.

"Sol. Remember what I told you." Aru said.

Sol nodded. "R-right. Of course. I remember." They talked for a bit more, and then the dancing began. S wasn't sure who his first partner was, only that their hands kept going places they shouldn't.

After a while, he took a break from the dancing, getting a drink and sipping from it. A little smile tugged at the edges of his mouth. To his surprise, he was having fun. But if he came out of the Tainya with no courtship possibilities…he didn't know what would happen.

"Sol Aelum?" A deep voice caught his attention, and he looked up. His eyes widened as he saw who the owner of the voice was, and he bowed quickly.

"Ah! P-prince Kori!" He exclaimed, peeking through his lashes at the taller male.

There was a quiet laugh. "Stand up, Valrun Aelum."

He did, setting his drink aside.

"Now, would you care to dance with me?" Prince Kori asked.

Sol's eyes widened. "I…I would love to." He stammered out, taking the prince's hand. The prince was tall, black haired and green eyed, dressed in an impeccable golden suit. His black hair was combed back, cut short in the Southern style.

"Thank you." Prince Kori brought Sol in close as they began to dance. "This was…a very bold choice to wear tonight. Most would not have risked it."

The prince was 20, Sol knew, and still unmatched. Sol himself was 19. "Yes, your highness."

"Just call me Kori, for now. It'll make conversation easier." Kori replied.

"Oh– alright." Sol replied slowly. "Are you…are you sure you want to dance with me?"

"Yes. I'll admit, I've been…enchanted by you since the first time I saw you." Kori said slowly.

Sol blinked. Blushed. The prince smelled like pine. "Oh. You…you have? But…why?"

"Well…you intrigue me. The first time I saw you, I'll always remember that. You were so…stubborn. It was amazing. My father was being terrible to you, and you just…stood your ground. Against the king. It was astounding." Kori shook his head a little bit.

"Ah, yes." Yes, he remembered it quite well, now. "I came to court in a dress, as I recall. Your father exploded."

Kori winced. "Yes. My father can be a bit…closed minded." He said, looking at Sol. "I'm not. I thought…I thought you looked gorgeous. Then again, I think you're the type that could pull off anything."

Sol blushed again, looking away for a moment. "You…you're too kind, your– Kori." He replied slowly. "I'm not…anyone worth anything." He was sabotaging himself with talk like this, he knew, but he couldn't help it. He didn't deserve the prince's attention, not in his own eyes.

Kori gently touched his chin. "Sol." The way he said Sol's name sent shivers down Sol's spine. "You are one of the most beautiful men I've ever met. I know you're intelligent, and kind. You sell yourself far short."

Sol looked up at Kori with wide golden eyes. "I…I think you make too much of me." He replied simply, shaking his head a little bit.

"Sol." Kori's voice was warm, but firm. "Who put that idea into your head? You are so, so perfect."

"I'm not." Sol was starting to break down. "I'm not worth anything. I have…I have to get Matched. I'm not worth anything otherwise, just some stupid kid that thinks I can flout tradition and get away with it. I'm not perfect, I'm the opposite." He was rambling, unable to stop the way his words ran on. "And I don't even deserve to be Matched, but if I'm not, I'm worthless."

"Who told you this?" Kori's voice was sharp. "Who the fuck told you this? It's not true. Matched or not, you are amazing."

Sol was shaking. He hardly even noticed as Kori guided him to a balcony for privacy. "My…my father." He replied softly, looking up at Kori with tears in his eyes.

A muscle twitched in Kori's jaw. "Your father…" He ground out. "Is dead wrong. You are worth so much more than that. So much more."

Sol stared at Kori for a long moment, then threw his arms around him, leaning into him. "No one but Aru's ever told me that before…" He whispered. "I'm sorry…" He was trying not to cry.

Kori froze for a moment, then wrapped his arms around Sol. "You have nothing to be sorry for." He said gently.

Sol took a deep breath. "I still need…a Match." He said hesitantly. "And…I should get back to the Tainya, or that's never going to happen."

Kori took a deep breath. "Well…actually…I meant to ask. If…you'd be willing to court me. With the intention of Matching later on, if we…if we both want it." For the first time, Kori sounded…nervous. Awkward.

Sol's eyes flew wide. Courtship was usually a precursor to Matching. "I-I…" He stared at Kori. "Yes." He finally breathed. "Yes!"

Kori smiled. "Are…are you sure?" He asked.

Sol nodded excitedly. "Yes! We…we can definitely Court. That sounds…that sounds perfect."

"Good." Kori said, smiling at Sol. "Now, shall we enjoy the rest of the party?"

Sol nodded again. "Yeah. Can we tell my friend? Please?"

Kori laughed as they headed back in. "Of course. You don't need my permission for that, Sol."

Anyone remember Mikhail? If not, that's fine. I'm just really lacking in the motivation compartment for writing, but I wanted to do something anyway, so this is basically what I came up with on the fly.

---

The summer sun was hot as it beat down on the man's heavily freckled skin, punishing him for abandoning it for so long. Mikhail hadn't left the mansion in a few days to recover from his latest tumble from a tall tree—one of the very rare orders Elxota had given out. To the Caelum's credit, it was a little more brutal than the other times he's fallen from a tree. His mind had been too distracted, and he didn't notice the branch splitting beneath his weight.

A sigh tumbled past his lips as he tipped his head back to glare up at the sun. However much Mikhail enjoyed the warmth the sun provided, even he had his limits. The ball of flame glared right back, challenging him to dare leave again.

He stuck his tongue out, then strode over to his little plot in the expansive garden.

Mikhail's cold exterior melted exponentially while he worked tenderly with the budding roses. Nimble fingers plucked weeds without remorse, yet stroked developing pedals with a fond touch. It wasn't long before his hands were caked with soil, his spine protested at being bent over for so long, and his muscles begged for a break. He hardly paid that any mind. It was good to get back into the habit of doing chores.

A wash of nostalgia rolled over his relaxed shoulders, and with it came her clingy hands.

~

"Mikhail~" The girl whined from her perch—which happened to be the exact haybale that her best friend needed to roll into the pasture. An obnoxiously dramatic pout assaulted her lips, and Mikhail didn't bother fighting against the equally dramatic eye roll. She wasn't deterred by this and continued her argument, keeping her rear-end firmly planted on the haybale. "It's your sweet sixteen! You shouldn't be doing chores! You should be spending time with me, the most important person in your entire life," she stated proudly, lifting her chin and smirking.

Mikhail narrowed his eyes at her, but the grin was already blooming and taking over his false irritation. "Rowan–"

"Don't 'Rowan' me, mister," she interrupted, folding her arms over her chest and matching his narrowed gaze, "You have no grounds to argue with me. It's your chores or me—and choose wisely," she added with a waggle of her index finger, leaning in towards him, "because there's a wrong choice, and there are also consequences."

"Uh-huh," he hummed, not deterred by her antics. Mikhail leaned in as well and planted both hands on either side of Rowan, the hay digging into his scarred palms. His eyes lit up with mirth, and his lips turned up in a smirk as she sucked in a breath. Her honey-brown eyes widened with confusion and anticipation."I chose chores," he murmured, then pushed the haybale back. Rowan squealed and fought to catch her balance, but the bale was already in motion, and she was just a twig; she had no choice but to jump off or be annihilated. Mikhail's laugh echoed through the barn, but not for long as a slim hand smothered it.

"I hate you," Rowan giggled, then curled her nose in indignation as her palm was licked by Mikhail. She didn't get to retreat before he had her scooped up into his arms, and she could do nothing but laugh and feebly beat at his arms as she was picked up. "Mikhail!" she scolded through a fit of giggles, "Put me down!"

"You say that like you aren't going to jump up on my back like you usually do until I finish my chores," he drawled with a grin, dropping his friend onto the ground unceremoniously. She stuck her tongue out at him, then did exactly that—jumped up, hooked her arms around his neck, and wrapped her legs around his waist. Mikhail sighed and ignored the extra weight on his back, simply got back to work.

He caught the runaway haybale, then worked on rolling it outside and into the horse pasture. Already, there was a line of the magnificent beasts waiting for their food. Instead of forcing their horses inside the barn at all times, the Snetkovs let them roam free and fed them outside. Mikhail liked to think that it made them feel a little less stuffy than if they had to eat in a stall.

Rowan was strangely quiet as he worked. Usually, she would be yapping his ear off right about now, begging him to pay attention to her instead of his chores. He glanced over at her curiously, their faces close with how her chin was propped up on his shoulder. Rowan met his arched brow with a soft smile and ruffled his hair affectionately. "I love you, y'know?" she murmured, looking almost apprehensive as she waited for a response.

Mikhail didn't hesitate to lean his head against hers and grab one of her hands, lacing their fingers together. "I know," he whispered, "And I love you too."

"Good."

i am, in fact, way too tired to edit right now. am i well aware that i switched povs somewhat at one point? yes. am i going to bother changing that tonight? what kind of Fool do you Take me for

anyway, here's a catori drabble. a saw a thing with the quote 'i wasnt a villain, i was eight' and kinda changed it up but yeah. anyway. here's the Big Oof

so guess who forgot about this yesterday?
Hint: it was me.
so please accept my humble offerings of another gigantic bloc of feedback! (at this point, if you looked up antonyms for the word "concise", there might as well just be a picture of me)

@cue-nervous-humming
your premise delights and intrigues me and I hope to hear more about it at some point. because you've got an excellent balance between letting on that there's something very off about this society and also not blatantly saying what it is. so while this bit is technically full of exposition, it's the kind of exposition I don't notice because I'm too busy wondering why is there a scalpel?? why is she wearing a mask?? what's this business about love?? what's she stencilling?? why is she so important??
and of course, there's a very nice reflective, sombre, muted mood in the language you use which I appreciate.
one thing I'd be careful of is tenses and chronology. as far as I can tell, the main body of the text is a flashback, and we get one sentence in the beginning and one paragraph at the end to frame it. so there's a bit of shifting going on here between different kinds of past tenses, so it'd be good to keep an eye on those and make sure they all very clearly signpost which time we're meant to be in. and as for chronology, you use a lot of temporal markers like "already", "about to", "as", "when", etc. which put the actions that are going on in a very specific order, and there's a danger there that these markers can contradict each other and I end up unsure which action happens first. if that makes sense. It might also be helpful to cut down on some of those.
Other than that, there are only a few minor line editing things - you say "trun" instead of turn at one point, and later there probably shouldn't be a comma after "laughed". but yeah. minor details. overall, this was really really good!! so thank you for sharing.

@Icefire
you know when you prefaced this with "mostly fluff" I got lulled into a false sense of security and was hit doubly hard by the sprinkling of angst that was still in there. so. heart was not broken but you're on thin ice here.
I'm really here for the worldbuilding and the imagery! usually I'm quite wary of writing that spends a lot of time detailing outfits, but it absolutely makes sense for it to feature as heavily as it does, and the description was clear and precise, so that worked really well!
At this point everyone's probably gotten tired of hearing this from me, but I'd recommend treading very carefully when it comes to exposition through dialogue. There's nothing wrong, per se, but it can lead to conversations that seem a bit stilted, if that makes sense. How much information does the reader need to be explicitly told, and how much can we extrapolate? for example, when Sol to tells his friend "you're already Matched!", it can feel slightly out of place and like it was there for our benefit. maybe Aru's lack of nerves could be enough to show the reader that he's already Matched? maybe there's another way to signpost it?
idk, it's a tough coin to balance and obviously all very subjective. just something to be aware of.
either way, this was really fun! thanks so much for sharing!

@Dances_with_Shadows
the fact that you say that you had no motivation to write and wrote this anyway is both inspirational and intimidating.
as usual, you've got some very vivid imagery, a nice balance between exposition and open-endedness, and beautiful characterisation through dialogue.
I only noticed a few small things. For example, there's a tense shift in the first paragraph at "times he's fallen from a tree" which doesn't quite match the rest of the text. I also wonder if some of the word choices are unusual enough to be distracting? It's totally subjective of course, but some constructions like "pout assaulted her lips" did make me pause a bit. There are a few times where I also wonder about the choice of passive voice ("her palm was licked" rather than "he licked her palm" or "she was picked up" as opposed to "he picked her up") which I'd recommend looking over. but all of these are pretty minor. Either way, this was super fun to read, thanks so much for sharing!

@crocs-to-a-knife-fight
you are correct - this was, in fact, a Big Oof. Catori is a precious chaotic angry child and I just want her to be happy please???
Excellent characterisation. Excellent tension throughout. Very, very nice structure built up around the word "monster". Especially in the beginning, I definitely get the vibe of a kind of detached whirl of action, if that makes sense, like there's so much stuff going on that she just dissociates into introspection. excellently done.
you were already quick to point out what I was going to say - there's a pov change which, while a cool perspective, does break the flow of the text quite a bit. Other than that, one thing you might want to look over is your use of the word "was" - by my count, it happens around 53 times throughout. which at 1400 words total isn't an issue necessarily, but it could be an indication that you're telling things when you could be showing them. so you might want to ctrl+f and see if there are any instances where it could be replaced by a stronger verb - so for example, "moved" instead of "was moving", or "laughed" instead of "was laughing".
but yeah, overall this was really well done and hit me right where it hurt. so. thanks for sharing!

so we have a fun bonus addition to this week's prompts: this game trailer which a friend of mine sent me. I'm not much into games myself, but if it's your cup of tea definitely check it out. (consider it a bonus prompt which combines art and music, I guess)

---

music prompt: "The Last Goodbye" by Billy Boyd

---

image: "Digital Painting After Wangjie Li" by Toko Suzuki

---

words: from the 9/11 poem "Out of the Blue" by Simon Armitage

We are spinning a web.
But such delicate threads,
the links so brittle,

too little, too late.
Not one can save us
or bear our weight."

@Icefire
you know when you prefaced this with "mostly fluff" I got lulled into a false sense of security and was hit doubly hard by the sprinkling of angst that was still in there. so. heart was not broken but you're on thin ice here.

Aha…sorry? i can't help inserting the angst I guess, sorry

I'm really here for the worldbuilding and the imagery! usually I'm quite wary of writing that spends a lot of time detailing outfits, but it absolutely makes sense for it to feature as heavily as it does, and the description was clear and precise, so that worked really well!

Thanks!! I don't usually describe things so heavily, but I wanted to experiment with it. I'm glad it worked!

At this point everyone's probably gotten tired of hearing this from me, but I'd recommend treading very carefully when it comes to exposition through dialogue. There's nothing wrong, per se, but it can lead to conversations that seem a bit stilted, if that makes sense. How much information does the reader need to be explicitly told, and how much can we extrapolate? for example, when Sol to tells his friend "you're already Matched!", it can feel slightly out of place and like it was there for our benefit. maybe Aru's lack of nerves could be enough to show the reader that he's already Matched? maybe there's another way to signpost it?
idk, it's a tough coin to balance and obviously all very subjective. just something to be aware of.
either way, this was really fun! thanks so much for sharing!

Ahh yeah I get that. I probably should have handled that better, but that was also how I brought up the whole topic of Matching and that it was Important and all that. Thank you!!

so guess who forgot about this yesterday?
Hint: it was me.
so please accept my humble offerings of another gigantic bloc of feedback! (at this point, if you looked up antonyms for the word "concise", there might as well just be a picture of me)

hey that's an absolute mood. time doesn't exist anymore anyway

@crocs-to-a-knife-fight
you are correct - this was, in fact, a Big Oof. Catori is a precious chaotic angry child and I just want her to be happy please???
Excellent characterisation. Excellent tension throughout. Very, very nice structure built up around the word "monster". Especially in the beginning, I definitely get the vibe of a kind of detached whirl of action, if that makes sense, like there's so much stuff going on that she just dissociates into introspection. excellently done.
you were already quick to point out what I was going to say - there's a pov change which, while a cool perspective, does break the flow of the text quite a bit. Other than that, one thing you might want to look over is your use of the word "was" - by my count, it happens around 53 times throughout. which at 1400 words total isn't an issue necessarily, but it could be an indication that you're telling things when you could be showing them. so you might want to ctrl+f and see if there are any instances where it could be replaced by a stronger verb - so for example, "moved" instead of "was moving", or "laughed" instead of "was laughing".
but yeah, overall this was really well done and hit me right where it hurt. so. thanks for sharing!

she is! and eventually she will be but you gotta keep in mind that she and her mother were literally tortured by a mafia hitman on ACCIDENT, and she held her mother as she died. she's also died herself. it just kinda be like that and she's gotta deal with all her issues and ptsd so that when she finally is happy it's there to stay

and yeah it was. oof. i had so many thoughts that i needed to get out of my head so the pov thing was an issue that i intended to edit later. as for the was i didn't even realize that? i'll have to go through and fix that up dhjdfh thank you!!

Thank you for the feedback, @ninja_violinist! Yeah tenses are a bit of a weakness, thanks for pointing that out. I'm glad you found the concept intriguing though!