I clench my fist, nails digging crescent-shaped indents into the calloused flesh of my palms, squeezing my eyes just as closed as my digits. Even now, I miss her. Even as my lifetime has passed by, the memories of her prevail. She is close to my heart and soul and mind, yet never near my body. My mother. Her silken purple hair. Her deep blue eyes. Her creamy pale skin. Her velvet dress. That velvet dress; the one she always wore, wrinkled as the corners of her eyes when she smiled. I still remember the feeling of the fabric beneath my small hands, watching her cook or sleeping in her arms as a youngling. Memories that are long gone, but never forgotten.

A/N: no ‼️ i don’t like this but imma post it anyway bc uhm wattpad instincts taking over 👺 also it’s not finished i js don’t want that ‘draft’ thing up ocdcore ykyk /j 

Centuries have passed me by, the sound of metal slicing flesh engraved into my mind from hundreds of years of bloody battling echoing through every rare moment of silence I am able to savor. All for what purpose? Land? Power? Or perhaps something deeper, something I, as a mere soldier of war, am unable to fathom. I used to be royalty. High Fae Prince the Day Kingdom. But Father has long since passed a stable sense of mind, enraged by the successes of the Night Kingdom. Rumors say he’s possessed, skeptics say it’s coincidental. But the possession of all the Otherworld Kingdom rulers must be everything but coincidental. There has to be something going on. A falsity, something that is leading them wrong. Perhaps it is the disease spreading across the Otherworld Kingdoms, what sparked this outbreak of warfare. But one would easily tell due to the nature of its symptoms; veins, nails, and scleras turning black, magic corrupting until the loss of it completely. All for the inevitable. To simply decay to dust, all who inhale the fumes of your fatality fated to be afflicted with the same illness. An endless cycle of death, not life. It’s still unknown where this disease stemmed from, at least to me. So, as I’m absorbed by my thoughts, laying here with my comrades on the blackened soil, with only the buzzing of flies and the smell of rotting flesh, I can’t help but wonder. Wonder how my wife is taking this new predicament. Wonder how my unborn child will survive my wife’s affliction to the illness; such lengthened exposure to it cannot be healthy, and the reproduction of High Fae is much longer than that of mortals’ because of the developing of magic. Wonder how Father is going to fix this. Wonder if I will make it through to see my child if they survive. All I can do now is hold my breath and wait—inhaling through my mouth is no better, I can taste the faerie blood in the air. Perhaps my wife and child would have better circumstances in Aeryn than here, in the Otherworld. Yes. Yes, I will send a letter and pray to the Ancients above that they receive it and leave to the Aeryn Kingdoms. Any will do. Spring, Summer, Winter, Autumn. All are better than here. Yes. And perhaps, if luck is on their side, they do not force my wife back to the Otherworld due to her disease. If so, at least we will die together. It was our promise.

A/N: why this feel lowk kinda cringe 😬 imma post it publically anyway but like… send help 😀🙏 also this is js my excuse to write abt my pookies in the delulu fantasies inside my head 😋‼️ all critism is needed (sos sos sos 😭) bro i suck 💀 i need to be better 🧑‍🦲🔥

Promises are fickle things. They strain when held onto too long, cracking like old concrete trampled by scurrying feet. Of course, it doesn’t seem to matter when you’re young, innocent. Burdens of times yet to come unbelievable, immaturity and stubbornness clouding your vision of the future. But age comes with much. Opportunities, beliefs, knowledge. You can do so much, it’s almost overwhelming. It makes you want to try it all. Yet why doesn’t he want to try? For me? For my childishness? For my endless curiosity fueled by the nostalgic need to never let go. To never forget. But how could he forget the promise he enacted? The one he engraved into the deepest, most hopeful part of my heart and mind and body and soul. When we were kids, we said we would marry. When we were in middle school, we said we would date. When we were in high school, he promised he would propose after our graduation. The concepts of our dreams changed, but the centrality of it never did; to stay. Perhaps I’m being selfish. He’s going through so much. And I’ve tried to stay close to him, to give him support to balance his grief. So, as I’m holding him in my arms, his shaking form sobbing into my chest, I can’t help but be self-centered. But I love him. I love him so, so much. I love the way his nose scrunches up when he laughs; I love the little dimples he gets on his back when he puts his shirt on; I love how he always has to take home every cat he finds on the street; I love when he lets me cuddle onto his chest as we watch cheesy movies. I love him so, so much. But I hate the way he cries; I hate the way his grief consumes him; I hate the way he bottles things up until it explodes into salty water streaming down his eyes. I hate the way he tries to be perfect, when he so clearly already is. Now, I fear he might not want to hold our promise through his sadness. As narcissistic as it is, I want his name behind mine, forever. Even as tears run down his face, I want to bind our lives together. I want him to feel in his heart what I feel for him all the time. But his heart still misses the dead, the gone. I just want him to stay with me. In the present, in the future. Forever.

A/N: ok colleenhoovercore why so toxic 🤨 uhm i didnt try to make it so like possesively apathetic but i refuse to rewrite this stuff ‼️ it hurts my soul too much this doesn’t fit the prompt whatsoever but i tried y’all i swear 🙏 i js got a bit carried away as carried away as ~400 words can be 💀 i quit it’s js too hard not writing fantasy delicious dookie 🤤 also ik my punctuation and grammar is goofy ahh but even tho i didnt put in on the feedback stuff pls js point out everything wrong 😀

“Slow down, you madman!” I yell, gusts of wind drowning out my voice. My arms are wrapped around Conall’s waist in a vice grip as he swerves and barrel rolls and soars through the air like some kind of rabid eagle, the speckles of white in his brown-feathered wings reflecting the sun’s rays like fresh snow—a rare occurrence in my Kingdom, snow. Too warm and humid. But the Spring Kingdom is not missing out on much; we can see the endless blizzard of the Winter Kingdom from our vantage points quite easily. “Little Princess can’t bear to have some fun?” He chuckles. He chuckles. This—this…sadistic piece of bird shit! He calles this fun? I ought to execute him myself if I’m still alive after we land. If we land. “I’m going to puke.” I groan, my breath hitching and my heart skipping multiple beats as he quickly changes directions through the forested mountains. “Don’t do it on me.” He swerves right, “Or I’ll drop you.” Conall barrel rolls through an opening in the canopy, shooting upwards before ceasing the flapping of his wings, falling down to the ground headfirst with me tightly holding onto his torso. I only close my eyes, bracing for impact, but it never happens. For a moment, I believe that I’ve already died, quickly and painlessly. But when I open my eyes, I see Conall, smirking like a childish fool, hovering on the ground. I slap his chest. Hard. But he only laughs, feigning injury. “You were trying to kill me! I’d have less than a mind to not charge you for treas—“ He puts a finger to my lips, sage eyes glimmering with content. Or contempt. Either way, I am more than enraged. “But I didn’t send you to the Otherworld.” He pulls his hand away from my face, “Only scared you half to it.” He shrugs, dropping our forms gently to the soil. “The concept is the same, you feral sparrow.” “Feral sparrow? Your insults are getting better.” “They were always this good!” I snap, “You just weren’t worth my wit, before this…” I wave my hand, broadly referencing the flying we partook in, “…attempted murder.” He sighs, rolling his eyes and wrapping his biceps around my waist, scooping me up. “Hm. Whatever you say, your Majesty.” He presses a kiss to my forehead. “Let’s get you home before the King thinks we’ve eloped.” This bastard. I ought to marry him.

A/N: how do i start and end stuff w/o help- also titles r so hard this one feels so childish but i didnt know what else to put other than ‘untitled thingamajig” 💀 so if any of y’all have advice SPILL THAT STUFF DON’T GATEKEEP PLEASE 🙇‍♀️ also this is my first prompt writing thing so like pls don’t attack me 😭🙏 i’m scared of online ppl so this is taking a lot of courage and in my head it’s a whole world w lore n history n stuff that i haven’t fleshed out fully so if u don’t get smth chances are i don’t either 🤷‍♀️ and erm 🤓 pls be honest and lengthy w the critism bc if u don’t point out everything i’ve done wrong, a 15 page essay on a step by step procedure on how to fix it, and a kendrick lamar diss track (/j) i’ll lowk not know what to do 😛‼️