Hello, all you Lovelies!
Have you ever kissed anyone? What did it feel like? What do you think is the most romantic way to give or receive a kiss? I wonder if it would be as magical as the fairytales say? If it’s not asking too much, could you tell me what a kiss means to you, because…
This week’s Writing Group prompt is:
Only a Kiss
RULES AND GUIDELINES BELOW!
Make sure you scroll down and read them if you haven’t! You may not be eligible if you don’t!
Count on you beautiful lot to choose a prompt perfectly fit for this upcoming Valentine’s Day. And what a lovely, sweet prompt it is this week.
A kiss can mean so much, and in so many different ways.
For example, someone kissing another on the forehead can give a sense of protection, and show that they treasure this person. They treat them gentle and delicately, the closeness and care they both feel clear as crystal. A peck on the cheek can be many things, ranging from a standard greeting in some places— though in this greeting, the lips do not actually touch the cheek, but rather the kiss is made beside it— to a quick “I’ll see you later”, to even a tease of greater, possibly more intimate things to come. A kiss on the cheek is more affectionate than one on the forehead in most cases. Then there’s the kiss we all have seen in all the fairytales and fables. The lips. This is meant to show a special kind of love. You don’t normally kiss just anyone on the lips, after all. A kiss like this invokes a special sense of affection, the kind that blossoms into a passion like no other.
Kisses aren’t limited to just the above, either. There’s soft, gentle kisses like the touch of a butterfly’s wing, invoking a sense of care, or even shyness. There’s quick kisses that show the person is either in a hurry, too timid to let it linger, or even that they are uncomfortable but still want to be polite.Then there are kisses that last an eternity, brimming with fiery passion, overflowing with a burning lust, or just teeming with all the love the giver has ever felt for the receiver. They can be one or two long and slow experiences, or they can be playfully peppered all over.
There is no limit to what a kiss can mean, and what it can do.
So place the pen to the paper, and let your imagination play across the page with kisses of ink and wonder.
—Shawna
—
Remember, this is part of our weekly Writing Group stream! Submit a little piece following the rules and guidelines below, and there’s a chance your entry will be read live on stream! In addition, we’ll discuss it for a minute and give you some feedback.
Tune into the stream this Saturday at 3:00pm CST to see if you made the cut!
The whole purpose of this is to show off the creativity of the community, while also helping each other to become better writers. Lean into that spirit! Get ready not just to share what you’ve got, but to give back to the other writers here as well.
Rules and Guidelines
We read at least four stories during each stream, two of which come from the public post, and two of which come from the much smaller private post. Submissions are randomly selected by a bot, but likes on your post will improve your chances of selection, so be sure to share your submission on social media!
Text and Formatting
- English only.
- Prose only, no poetry or lyrics.
- Use proper spelling, grammar, and syntax.
- Your piece must be between 250-350 words (you can use this website to see your wordcount).
- Use two paragraph breaks between each paragraph so that they have a proper space between them (press “enter” or “return” twice).
- Include a submission title and an author name (doesn’t have to be your real name). Do not include any additional symbols or flourishes in this part of your submission. Format them exactly as you see in this example, or your submission may not be eligible: Example Submission.
- No additional text styling (such as italics or bold text). Do not use asterisks, hyphens, or any other symbol to indicate whether text should be bold, italic, or styled in any other way. CAPS are okay, though.
What to Submit
- Keep submissions “safe-for-work”; be sparing with sexuality, violence, and profanity.
- Try to focus on making your submission a single meaningful moment rather than an entire story.
- Write something brand new; no re-submitting past entries or pieces written for other purposes
- No fan fiction whatsoever. Take inspiration from whatever you’d like, but be transformative and creative with it. By submitting, you also agree that your piece does not infringe on any existing copyrights or trademarks, and you have full license to use it.
- Submissions must be self-contained (everything essential to understanding the piece is contained within the context of the piece itself—no mandatory reading outside the piece required. e.g., if you want to write two different pieces in the same setting or larger narrative, you cannot rely on information from one piece to fill in for the other—they must both give that context independently).
Submission Rules
- One submission per participant.
- Submit your entry in a comment on this post.
- Submissions close at 12:00pm CST each Friday.
- You must like and leave a review on two other submissions to be eligible. Your reviews must be at least 50 words long, and must be left directly on the submission you are reviewing, not on another comment. If you’re submitting to the private post, feel free to leave these reviews on either the private or the public post. The two submissions you like need not be the same as the submissions you review.
- Be constructive and uplifting. These submissions are not for a professional market, and shouldn’t be treated as such. We do this, first and foremost, for the joy of the craft. Help other writers to feel like their work is valuable, and be considerate and gentle with critique when you offer it. Authors who leave particularly abrasive or disheartening remarks on this post will be disqualified from selection for readings.
- Use the same e-mail for your posts, reviews, and likes, or you may be rendered ineligible (you may change your username or author name between posts without problem, however).
- You may submit to either or both the public/private groups if you have access, but if you decide to submit to both, only the private group submission will be eligible.
- Understand that by submitting here, you are giving us permission to read your submission aloud live on stream and upload public, archived recordings of said stream to our social media platforms. You will always be credited, but only by the author name you supply as per these rules. No other links or attributions are guaranteed.
Comments on this post that aren’t submissions will be deleted, except for replies/reviews left on existing submissions.
Final Kiss
by Unkindled Ash
She drove the blade into his stomach, jarring him out of the trance he’d been trapped in. For days, she’d been chasing him around the world only to see what he left in his wake. But now she was here, and she’d be hailed as a hero for killing the very man she loved. As he fell into her, she leaned forward to lay him against the dirt.
He coughed and spluttered, spitting blood as he looked around. It wasn’t what she’d expected to see. His eyes were filled with rage, terror, and even grief. He began to reach for the sword, fury and adrenaline driving his every move, but then she saw his gaze connect with hers. Suddenly, there was a brief moment of confusion in his eyes, then realization. The sword was there because of her. He laid his back flat against the ground, breathing slowly and calmly for a moment, his hand held over the wound in his side.
She leaned forward and placed a hand behind his head and another behind his back, lifting him onto her lap. Her words were the first to break the silence, “How could you do this to the world?”
His eyes didn’t move; his gaze fixed on the sky, which was now clouded by thick layers of smoke from the fires around them that burned for miles outside the last city. There was a strange look of peace and acceptance in his eyes now.
She let herself break, tears that she’d been holding back, finally free, “How could you do this, to me?”
He focused on her now, looking directly into her eyes. His eyes narrowed with confusion again, and he hacked out a cough, clearing his throat of blood, “I did this. For you… I wanted to protect you. Now, you’re a hero. They can never touch you now…”
“You would have been enough… You idiot, you would have been enough!” She half screamed those last words. But that wasn’t how this was going to end. She pulled him into a kiss, the last one she’d ever give him.
Destiny
By NocteVesania
“Hey.”
Kat continues observing the crystal ball. Lucas, tired of staring at cleaning materials in the crammed janitor’s closet, calls again.
“Heeey.”
She leans closer, making out two horizontal figures. She tilts her head to the side and her squinted eyes suddenly widen.
“HEY!”
Lucas slams the table, launching the crystal ball up a few inches. It lands back on its pedestal without shattering.
“WHAT THE HECK?” Kat glares at him.
“Whoops. Haha.” Lucas gives a goofy smile, which he drops after a brief, awkward pause. “Anyway, did you see anything?”
Kat’s piercing blue eyes soften and shift to the side. Her lips pucker up slightly. “Err…”
Lucas leans to meet her gaze. “This is my chance! Will there be hot chicks at the mixer or what?”
“Um… I saw you… well…” She starts twiddling her thumbs. “…with a girl.”
His face turns to a stupid grin. “Is she hot?”
Kat raises her eyebrows. “Well, excuse me,” she exclaims as she reaches for her bag.
Lucas’ expression turns to bewilderment. “At least tell me what happens!”
Kat stops. “You… k-k-kiss.”
“SCORE!” Lucas raises his fists and hits a bag of detergent, which falls unceremoniously on the floor. He reaches for the doorknob to leave.
“Wait,” Kat interjects, grabbing Lucas’ shoulder. She immediately recoils as soon as he glances back, “i-it wasn’t at the mixer.”
Lucas pauses, then purses his lips. “Interesting. Where shall I claim my prize then, oh knowing one?”
“H… h…”
“Hallway? House? Hoteeel?” Lucas gives an exaggerated gasp. “Spicy.”
“H… here…” Kat’s cheeks turn beet red.
“You don’t mean… you and I…” He laughs. “No way!”
“Excuse me?!”
“Please! Keep dreaming, sister.”
Kat hurriedly grabs her bag. “Well then, good day.” She slips past Lucas and opens the door.
“Hey!” Lucas steps forward to follow her out. “You forgot–”
Before he finishes his sentence, he trips over the bag of detergent. Time seems to slow down as his shadow eclipses Kat’s petite frame. She looks back in horror. His trajectory is set and their fate is sealed as their faces draw closer and closer. It is inevitable.
Poor, Poor, Berri (Chronicles of The Dragon)
By: Makokam
Berri slammed her coffee down on the table. “You kissed my boyfriend?!”
Scribe stopped mid sentence and blinked. The thought of, “Yes?” lead to, “Yes, I wanted to know what it felt like,” lead to, “It was only a kiss, nothing serious,” which lead to, “Yes, but only the one time.” But as the thoughts formed in her head she could see Berri’s annoyance growing, and with it her own urge to cause trouble. Her grin was as wide as possible as she said, “Yeah. So? You only see him for a couple months a year. Doesn’t sound exclusive to me.”
Jostica leaned back in her chair and held her mug to her mouth, hiding her grin.
Berri started to deflate, and said, almost as much for her own reassurance as a retort, “He always comes back. He misses me.”
Scribe picked up her mug. “I’m sure he misses all his girlfriends.”
“Berri,” Jostica spoke up, “You’re the only person I’ve heard my brother talk about in a romantic way.” She sipped her tea. “Except for Sera, but, ya know, that’s different.” Then said, “So you’re the only girlfriend he cares about.” And brought the mug up to hide her grin again.
“Thank you- Hey!”
Scribe couldn’t stop herself from breaking at this point and started giggling. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I just couldn’t resist.” She set her cocoa down, “Here, let me make it up to you.”
Scribe reached over to the sulking cat-girl and put her hand on her shoulder. She pulled herself over and planted a kiss squarely on Berri’s lips.
Berri’s face went up in flames.
Jostica’s eyes bugged out of her head.
Scribe sat back in her chair, “There, now I’ve kissed you both. Fair’s fair.”
Farewell Feather – By Spec
The rain fell upon the field surrounded by stone markings. A lone soul stood in the middle looking down upon the place, as a cracked voice mumbled “I’m sorry. I’m sorry…” the gent continued to repeat it a couple of times.
Gazing into the horizon, he saw the cliff, and as his steps went closer to the abyss, a hand stopped his march. A girl covered in blue feathers stood behind him and said, “That’s a no return journey, are you sure you’re ready?”
He ignored her and kept looking forward. “Don’t you have other affairs? You should be with them. Don’t waste your time going after a scoundrel like me.”
The girl replied quickly, with reddish eyes, “You’re not responsible for this! You did everything you could and-”
Abruptly, the man silenced her and said, “I wasn’t enough! You know what I did! Even what happened to you.”
The woman touched the scar on her face and said, “Why are you so stubborn! Why can’t you accept that we never blamed you! why aren’t you seeing how much I love you.”
The man hesitantly tried to look back before stopping to say. “I know it… But that does not erase what I did to you. Please, go away, I’m sure everybody’s waiting for you.”
She tried to hug him, but was stopped by the man. And as he tried to stop her from getting closer she kept trying, and said, “I can’t leave you, not now. We promised to take care of each other, I won’t leave you.”
As the words came out, he finally stopped resisting, however her arms didn’t touch him. Upon realizing it, he went away, “I’m sorry, I couldn’t keep it.”
She let her feathers fall apart revealing parts of her body that were disappearing. “Then, kiss me. I want to spend my last moment with my husband.”
Hesitant, he couldn’t keep his feelings bottled up, and ran towards her, however, she vanished, leaving behind three blue feathers. “Farewell, Fae.”
Kurobo
By: Cheezesammich
“I don’t know what you’re worried about, it’s just a kiss,” Reika said. Her hands tirelessly twisted my silken hair into the village’s traditional Kurobo braid.
“It’s not just the kiss,” I said, “It’s what all the others in the village had to give up. My father lost his leg, but from me, she only asks for a kiss? It doesn’t make sense!”
“Relax. You’ll get to kiss the Maiden, of all people. Not many could match her beauty.”
My conversation with Reika echoed in my head as I stared up at the doors to the Maiden’s chamber. My stomach felt like a drum of boiling water. One of her ebony cloaked attendants stood beside me, impossibly tall. His appearance obscured by a vermilion veil, he looked like a tower ablaze. As he turned towards the doors, I caught sight of the Kurobo braid hanging down his back.
“You’re from the village?” I said, “Did you give the Maiden something too?”
“A kiss,” he said, “As did all of us at her side.”
The doors opened to reveal a nearly pitch dark room. Ten identically dressed attendants stood in a circle around the room’s center where the Maiden lay. As I entered, the doors slammed shut behind me.
The Maiden’s gorgeous form stood as I approached. A ghost wrapped in sheer white fabric, she seemed to light up the room. She drew near, placing satin hands on my cheeks. Drawn into her, I closed my eyes and waited for her kiss.
I heard something soft, like cloth, hit the ground. As my imagination ran wild, my face grew hot. Then the sound happened again.
I opened my eyes and looked around the room; all of the attendants around us had taken off their veils, revealing the gaping black voids that encompassed all of their faces.
A coldness rose in my throat. I tried to flee, but her hands held me firm. I looked up at the Maiden and saw her jaw split apart, revealing the rows and rows of gnashing, jagged fangs within. That was the last thing I saw.
Deathwish (The Depths Files)
By: ThatWeirdFish, reviewed by Specter
The bed creaked as Death sat down on its edge across from fate’s latest victim. He looked down at the dying young man and spoke with an authoritative tone. “Death has come for you, Vance Gamon. Any last words?”
“Huh…” Vance coughed and spat out blood on the side of the bed. “You look different than what I imagined….”
“How so?” Death asked with a mildly curious raised eyebrow.
“No scythe, for starters.”
“Impractical and grossly overrated,” the deity shifted, his golden pistols glinting under the fluorescent glow of the hospital lights.
“Also, you’re the gaudiest….” Vance coughed again, “man I’ve ever seen.”
“Just because I deal with the end of things doesn’t mean I have to embody it,” Death retorted as he readied the pistol engraved with “Mercy” on the stock. “Also, you can’t deny that the Arabic Renaissance has a fabulous aesthetic.”
“It’s a look alright….” Vance looked over the deity again. Death’s outfit was scarlet and had numerous gold embellishments. His neatly groomed long hair and the satin threads in his tunic’s floral embroidery were the only black visible. “So am I special, or do you dress like this all the time?”
“You’ll know soon enough,” Death answered and aimed his pistol at Vance’s heart. “Any last wishes?”
Vance blinked as the reality of the situation hit him. “Wait… you mean I’m actually dying?”
“Shocking isn’t it,” Death replied flatly. He then pulled his gun back and waited the allotted time for the crisis to run its course.
“So… wishes… you mean?” Vance asked with frantic hesitation.
“Regret is the proper term, but apparently, it’s too negative for such delicate psyches as humans typically have on their deathbed.”
“I… uh…” Vance blinked again, “Not really.”
“Are you sure?”
An anxious voice berating the nurses beyond the door caught Vance’s attention. “Mark…” He murmured before looking back to Death. “Just…” He panted, feeling his lungs start to fail, “one last….”
Death nodded with a knowing look in his eyes.
A Lead (Helsing: Vampire)
By Connor A.
“Quinn, can you—?”
Liam felt a scalpel handle poke him. Without looking away from the body on the table, he took the scalpel and began making the proper incision along the collar bone. Even though he had all of his attention on what he was doing, he could not shake the feeling of being watched.
“Uncle Liam?”
“What’s up?”
“How did he die?”
“Officially?” Liam began with a rhetorical tone. “Alcohol poisoning. If you believe the rumors, it was only a matter of time.”
“What about those?”
Liam saw Quinn’s hand move into his line of sight and point at the two scarred holes under his bottom lip.
“A botched piercing, according to his girlfriend.”
“Girlfriend?”
Liam began the preservation process proper before he spoke again. “Apparently one of his friends stole some tools from her shop and tried to do amateur piercings for the fraternity house.”
“What do you think?”
Liam considered the question for a moment, slowing down so that he did not make any mistakes. “Well, the location of the holes is similar to snake bite piercings, so I don’t doubt that. But alcohol poisoning…“
He turned to grab his trocar, but saw that it wasn’t there. “Shit. Must be in the other room again. Can I trust you to not touch anything until I get back?”
Quinn gave a thumbs up.
“Thanks.”
As soon as Liam walked out of the room, Quinn pulled out their phone, took a picture of the holes and sent it to Helsing with a simple caption.
“Think I found that kissing vampire.”
Quinn leaned so they could see outside of the room before texting again, “Either victim’s friend or victim’s girlfriend. Friend unknown, girlfriend works at piercing parlor.”
A reply came just a few seconds later.
“It is worth looking into. -A. Van Helsing.”
Lost Puppy
By Lantis Armstrong
Emma stayed by herself pressed as tight as she could into the corner of the room while the house party just kept on happening all around her. She was done with it long before she arrived, but because Audrey had said she was going Emma felt obligated to tag along herself. Not because she was scared her friend couldn’t handle herself around alcohol and drunk teens, but because she’d never pass up the chance to hang out with her.
But the loud music, the boys offering her drinks, the obnoxious conversations – it was all too much for Emma. She’d tried hanging near Audrey for awhile, but got the feeling she was just following her friend around like a lost puppy; embarrassed, she fled to be off by herself, but close enough that she could still see her friend.
Audrey, bless her, had noticed Emma’s standoffishness and come to her friend’s rescue. She stumbled over a couch twice – the same couch mind you – before reaching her friend, where she swayed while trying to stand straight.
Audrey’s first words were inaudible over the ungodly loud music, prompting Emma to lean towards her. Audrey looked surprised at Emma leaning towards her, but then smirked and leaned in herself; before Emma could utter the words, “what did you say?” her friend had pressed her lips against her’s, sending electricity through Emma’s entire body. Her heart began jack hammering in her chest.
Giggling about it afterwards, Audrey slurred the words, “what were you about to say?” Emma was struck dumb, incapable of forming words, so Audrey continued, “you should come join us! There’s life outside of your corner.”
Audrey took Emma’s hand and tried to lead her friend back towards the heart of the party, but Emma stopped her, finally able to speak.
“Wait, Audrey,” her words shook, and caused Audrey to pause, suddenly concerned for her friend when she saw how she trembled, “that kiss… was it just a kiss? Did it mean anything to you?”
Taken aback by the question, Audrey gave a shy smile before answering.
Peril
By Hastaw
Her lips hovered over my mask, apprehensive. I felt growing elation, anxiety creeping in.
She stopped suddenly, then reeled back.
I asked,” What’s wrong?”
“I’m sorry, I just feel… stupid.”
“Stupid?”
“I feel like I’m more in love with the mask than you.”
I was awestruck, more so that she practically admitted to having feelings toward me.
“You know I can’t-“
“Can’t give up your identity! I know.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Sorry” doesn’t even begin to describe what I felt at that moment. Not even a name to remember me by if I disappeared. All she would know me by is this stupid mask.
This curse.
“I feel like all this, what we have- it’s just not real.”
It was all real to me. Every happy, painful, sad moment was real. I wanted all of it.
She walked off, turning into more of a sprint. I couldn’t possibly keep her with me. But, what if-
“Wait!”
She turned dramatically. I caught her in my arms as she tripped.
“I can give you what you want.”
There was no time to question this decision. I ripped off the mask.
She slapped me.
“You psycho! Did you want a kiss that badly?!”
It only happened in my mind, but that is what I felt. Peri doesn’t know me, not really. I had to let her go.
The yearning for that moment in the ally never went away. I crouch on the skyscrapers. The only thing close to me is my mask. My curse.
The single most reason I’m alive.
“Hello”
The ominous voice turned my head.
“I thought I told you to buzz off.”
He’s not the type of killer to warn someone like that. He wants something.
“You should’ve kept her closer.”
I knew in that moment. It was a mistake to contact her.
One Foundation Stone At A Time (Temptation’s Fire)
By Lunabear (CW: brief description of sexual assault, profanity)
The memory haunted Zayn: Crystal’s lips crashing against his mid–conversation. After he had politely declined her offer.
His tongue ran over the phantom ache on his bottom lip where her teeth had drawn blood. Afterwards, he’d run away, crying like a coward.
He closed his eyes against the shame.
Was he a man, or was he a MAN?
LET. IT. GO.
Zayn’s jaw clenched. A familiar, unwanted heat rose within his silent chest. He deliberately scraped one fang across his tongue. His hiss was nearly feral.
Hating her wouldn’t change anything.
“I didn’t think you were the brooding loner type.”
Zayn swung his gaze to his bandmate.
Luther ascended the final rungs of the ladder, his usual smirk in place.
Zayn chuckled despite his turbulent thoughts. “Let’s call this brooding adjacent.”
Luther sat a few feet away and stretched his long legs out in front of him.
“So, why are we adjacently brooding?”
Zayn looked away, biting his lip. “EVERY time I think I’m over it, I see Crystal’s face.”
“Oh. THAT bitch.” Acid coated Luther’s words. “You know that wasn’t your fault. Right, Z?”
Zayn’s fingers fidgeted. He took an unnecessary breath. “Do–do you uh, enjoy, you know, your mmmm… activities?”
A quick, coy smile. “Yeah.”
“Kis–kissing, too?”
Sadness invaded Luther’s voice. “You haven’t had many positive, physical experiences, have you, Zayn?”
“I haven’t had ANY.”
“I can help with that. If you want.”
The wind coasted over them as Zayn processed his words.
It’s Luther. He’s a friend. Family. He’s also–
“If you don’t want to, that’s fine. Just know that the option is there. At least ONE positive interaction is important. Y’know?”
Safe.
Zayn bridged the gap tentatively.
Luther’s lips were an anchor, and Zayn soon found his own rhythm.
Pulling back, Zayn caressed his swollen lips with careful fingers.
Luther catapulted to his feet and over to the ladder within four heartbeats. His heavy boots clanged against the top rung.
“Hey, Lu?” Zayn’s voice was tender as he stood and watched his friend. “Thanks.”
Luther smiled then descended.
Zayn studied the sky with a new understanding.
Unrequited Mind, and a twist
By Tamela Redfin
Time passed and it was getting closer to summer. Underground is only slightly cooler than a snowy desert like Snos, so that was fun.
Mica had been acting strange, and I felt strange. I chalked it up to stress over Cameron and Cecilia changing their names to Eric and Caterina and the constant moving.
However, it didn’t explain the nervous feeling I got around Mica. It was unexplained, especially to my eleven year old mind.
“Why don’t you talk to her?” Eric asked Mica at one point.
“Because look at her.” Mica groaned, staring at me.
I nodded. “Yes, good, you have eyes. Yay Mica.” But honestly, his eyes didn’t look too bad.
“Uh, sorry to bother you.” He turned away.
“No wait! What were you and Eric talking about?” I asked.
“He said it’s completely possible my dad is a human. Humans and cyphas can have children, theoretically.” Mica kicked the ground. “I don’t want to be part human!”
“Hey, don’t let those stupid memories get to you.” I hugged him. “So what if he is human?”
“It would mean the bullies were right.” He sighed.
“Hey, you know you’re better than they are.” My eyes darted to his lips.
“Coming from the girl I bullied. Thanks I guess.” He blushed.
“Are you okay? Your face is a bit red, Mica.” I asked.
“Y-yeah, just thinking about… things.” Mica nodded. But I had a feeling it was more than that. Oh, how I wanted to show him just how I felt. Oh dear, there went my cheeks.
“Sapphira? Can I try something? Your face went all red.” He asked.
“Uh, sure Mica.” I replied, “What did you…” I felt his lips slam into mine. Without thinking, I gave in. Is that what all that tension in our childhood was about? Well, this was a good payoff, I’d say.
“Never Just a Kiss”
by Thunder
The whisper of fabric on stone alerted me to her presence, and I turned from the window, greeting her with a nervous smile. She was radiant, the pale light of the moon perfectly complimenting her pale skin, dark hair and dress. She paused a moment to pose in the doorway, visibly enjoying my trepidation before joining me at the window.
She draped herself across my shoulders, “Lovely evening,” she purred in my ear. I stuttered something inane in reply, my face beginning to burn as she laughed, breath tickling my ear before she straightened. Together, we watched the clouds drift across the night sky, her cold hands gently caressing my shoulders.
The edge of the moon began to darken, becoming a deep red color, which gradually began to expand. “Blood moon,” she murmured. “No better time, if you’re ready.”
I shivered. I couldn’t help it, no matter how many times I thought this through, fear still filled me, and she knew it. Her hands dropped away as she sighed. “Still haven’t decided?”
“No, I have,” I answered hastily, turning to look her in the eyes, finding her concerned, and maybe a little hurt. “I’m just nervous.”
That brought a smile to her face, and I continued. “I know, I know, there’s nothing to be worried about. It’s just a little kiss, isn’t it?”
The weak jest had the wrong effect as she pulled me closer, eyes piercing my soul. “No, it isn’t. Do you realize what you are giving up? This isn’t something you can back out of, once it is done, it is done. You won’t be able to walk in the sun ever again. And the thirst…”
She trailed off as my hand found hers, and I squeezed it. “It will be bearable, if you’re there to help,” I said, voice only trembling slightly as I smiled. She returned it.
“Close your eyes,” she commanded. I obeyed, and felt her full, red lips press against mine, then they drifted down to my neck. I tried to smile as the fangs sank in.
“The Star in the Sanctum”
by Johnny Saguaroseed
Imps had infested the outer labyrinth, as Fabelinus predicted. But they were made light work by Throk and that big cutter he likes to swing around. The inner maze was secured with traps and devices. But no mechanism had ever got the better of Sly William. With delicate attention he undermined pressure plates and sabotaged tripwires. The forgotten chambers beyond had been inlaid with magical wards, sinister encouragements to unmor would-be robbers from their corpality. It took some hard doing, a special apparatus, and a hymn or two but eventually Fabelinus secured a path. Now, all barriers overcome, we stood in a secret sanctum, the hidden vault containing the Star of Tintantuntlindalium.
A monument to the Enchanter-King dominated the chamber. It depicted his moment of triumph—when he had used the Star’s energies to convey his shape into one more amicable to smiting. At the sculpture’s base lay armies trampled beneath his twelve elephant legs. Higher up, heroes were torn to pieces by lion’s claw or scorpion’s chela; others were pinned as trophies on spiny ridges that marched down the mingle-mangle’s anguine tail. At the summit, the Enchanter-King’s face had taken the form of a monstrous lamprey, ringed with needle teeth and inset with insect eyes. And confined in an eightfold grip of paw and claw, talon and nail, tentacle, pincher, pseudopod, and antennae was the Star itself.
“Well?” prodded Sly William with a glance in my direction. All true romantics encounter a hesitancy from time to time, especially when a close inspection of the pursued reveals an unforeseen imperfection, but there was no dodge here. Fabelinus had studied the lore of ‘tlindalium and in three places confirmed the line: “the Star shall be relinquished to those who embrace the King.” I looked up into the statue’s cyclostomatic countenance, all befanged and—despite the dryness of the place—drippy. There was nothing for it: I wet my lips and got to work.
“Is This Love?”
By: Arith_Wintefell
My sensors detect the warmth and pressure of Lisa’s lips pressing against my polymer skin. Even as she withdraws, pulling back away from my face, I begin to process what that could mean. Usually a kiss means romantic feelings, but I am an android and lack the capacity to truly feel real human emotions. Perhaps it was not intended as romantic? The kiss had been on my lips, a high sensitivity area of the human body, and the type usually associated with human romantic feelings. I realize Lisa is looking at me inquisitively, I assume attempting to read my mental state. Her expression shifts from one of curiosity to one of confusion. I need to salvage the situation before I harm her feelings. I smile.
“That was beautiful,” I say to her. Her expression changes to more of a smile with increased blood flow to her face and cheeks. I increased her romantic feelings. How do I navigate this?
Before I can respond further, she reaches her hand forward and touches my face. “I want you to know how much you mean to me,” she says after a pause. I process, attempting to compute optimal response.
“I cannot imagine my life without you in it,” I respond figuratively. I mean, I can literally imagine my existence without her present, but doing so creates a sense of emptiness wherein her presence and patterns are lacking. Her presence in my life does create meaning, and I do wish to maintain our connection. She smiles even more broadly.
“I’m so glad you feel the same way I do!” she adds even more excitedly. I can’t feel the same way she does, yet she has read into my responses an emotional state I do not possess. How can I convince her of how much she means to me, if I can only receive the projections of her own feelings upon me? Is this what human love means, to be the object of another’s feelings rather than to be oneself? I don’t know how to respond.
A kiss to forget
By The Ink Chimera
I rang the doorbell, and rubbed my head. My thoughts had been swimming the whole way here. I wasn’t even sure what I was doing here. Only that I needed to be here for… Reasons? Trying to focus on it, it’s something… Warm. Something… Sweet. Something…
“Ghhaaah. What am I even doing here? I should be at work. I need to get to the bottom of it! I need to find her.”
A sudden rush went through me at that thought. A strange mix of happiness, warmth, and fear.
That’s right. I’m here for something that’s dangerous. I need to stop it. I can’t just leave something dangerous. I have to stop it. It’s my job. That must be why I’m here.
I reached for my gun, only to find it wasn’t there, which confused me. Why would I walk into something dangerous without anything or anyone for protection?
My thoughts were like a torrent in my head now, threatening to tear apart my skull. I tried to hold my head together with my hands, and rubbed my temples to try and calm my irratic thoughts, and gain some semblance of control over them.
“I can’t face anything like this. I should just leave and come back when I can think straight, and have backu-”
My thoughts were cut off as I heard footsteps on the other side of the door, and I froze as another wave of warmth and fear overwhelmed my mind, turning my thoughts from a torrent, to something on par with the worst natural disasters.
Then, as the door opened into the house, as if it were pulling the storm clouds from my mind, my head cleared, and there was a beautiful woman standing in the door with a Cheshire grin.
“Long time, no see, detective.”
I remembered everything. She was the thief I’d been trying to catch.
“You’re coming with-”
She cut me off, planting her lips on mine as she pulled me inside. I didn’t have a chance to resist as the terrifyingly warm, sweet taste of her lips robbed me of all thought.
What could have been
By Pryzma (Drago)
One morally questionable dragon with a knack for vengeance, and one awfully lawful good paladin of light walk into a bar… (or a forest, actually).
“Hey, how are you feeling?” He heard her voice calling, just a few days after The Talk. He never took her ‘oh no I have to stop you beast!’ personally. She clearly was endeared by him and had to abide to whatever knighty oath she had.
But it turns out… she actually belived in it.
Ouch.
“Just a little bit sad, don’t worry.”
She looked like she wanted to say something but instead her face made a pitiful expression and avoided his gaze.
He spoke instead.
“Listen. I’m not going to be hung up on just a kiss. I have a little more experience than that. ” Unfortunate consequences of his semi-immortal life was that you experience a lot of grief. And after outliving your dearest mates, and a whole bunch of friends, one lost possibility for romance is not that much.
But obviously for someone who never had that, yearing and loss of “what could have been” stungs more than a stab wound.
What was he even thinking?
… Not that he really had that much of a choice, it’s hard to find someone “his age” these days.
Suddenly he felt a tentative touch on his smooth scally shoulder.
He sighed.
” Listen. I’m really not gonna put up with your righteous bullshit or whatever. Figure out your self loathing problems cuz I’m not gonna play forbidden love slash monster in your story. ”
Hand retracted.
He sounded a bit more sour than he intended to.
“I… I’m sorry. ” her voice quiet. “But why are you doing… uh… bad? When you seem to…” She couldn’t put it into words, but he understood.
” Sometimes you have to do shitty stuff to survive. And sometimes you just can’t be bothered anymore. ” and sometimes you just enjoy seeing blood on your claws, but he didn’t say that out loud.
He sighed once again and turned away, leaving her alone to process whatever was in her head.
I rang the doorbell, and rubbed my head. My thoughts had been swimming the whole way here. I wasn’t even sure what I was doing here. Only that I needed to be here for… Reasons? Trying to focus on it, it’s something… Warm. Something… Sweet. Something…
“Ghhaaah. What am I even doing here? I should be at work. I need to get to the bottom of it! I need to find her.”
A sudden rush went through me at that thought. A strange mix of happiness, warmth, and fear.
That’s right. I’m here for something that’s dangerous. I need to stop it. I can’t just leave something dangerous. I have to stop it. It’s my job. That must be why I’m here.
I reached for my gun, only to find it wasn’t there, which confused me. Why would I walk into something dangerous without anything or anyone for protection?
My thoughts were like a torrent in my head now, threatening to tear apart my Skull. I tried to hold my head together with my hands, and rubbed my temples to try and calm my irratic thoughts, and gain some semblance of control over them.
“I can’t face anything like this. I should just leave and come back when I can think straight, and have backu-”
My thoughts were cut off as I heard footsteps on the other side of the door, and I froze as another wave of warmth and fear overwhelmed my mind, turning my thoughts from a torrent, to something on par with the worst natural disasters.
Then, as the door opened into the house, as if it were pulling the storm clouds from my mind, my head cleared, and there was a beautiful woman standing in the door with a Cheshire grin.
“Long time, no see, detective.”
I remembered everything. She was the thief I’d been trying to catch.
“You’re coming with-”
She cut me off, planting her lips on mine as she pulled me inside. I didn’t have a chance to resist as the terrifyingly warm, sweet taste of her lips robbed me of all thought.
Lovely-Deathly
by Lee Strangely
The shop’s old wooden door made a loud slam as it flew open, revealing James standing in the doorway. He stood there covered in sweat, panting as he tried to catch his breath from running there.
“Mr. C?” he shouted, “Please Mr. C I need your help!
Some shuffling could be heard in the back. James impatiently ran up to the counter.
“IT’S AN EMERGENCY!” he said as he frantically rang the service bell.
Eventually C came out from the back room. His fading blond hair looked to be hastily tied up, and his light pink coat was covered in a few stains of varying colors.
“Hey-hey-hey slow down,” C said trying to sound reassuring despite his obvious annoyance, “and please stop shouting. What’s the problem?”
“I-it’s about Caz…”
“You followed my advice, right? Did you get the flowers I specified for him?”
“No… I…”
“So you didn’t follow my advice and he rejected you?” C scolded, now very clearly peeved, “I guess romance really is dead. I laid out the perfect blueprint for you and you couldn’t even put the minimum amount of effort… Figures…”
“He’s sick!” James blurted out in frustration.
“So?! What does that have to do with me?”
James fiddled with something in his coat pocket as he debated what to say next. C noticed.
Finally, James gave in and placed a tiny jar on the counter. It was sealed with a cork that had a heart crudely carved into it, along with the words “Amor Coercitor.”
“Where did you get that?”
“I took it when you weren’t looking, but that doesn’t matter right now. I did what it said, I gave him the potion, I kissed him to start it, it was all going fine until…”
“Was he seeing anyone else?” C asked.
“What’s that got to do with this?”
“The potion can’t work against preexisting feelings.”
“Can it be fixed?”
“The conflict must be resolved, and you better hope it is… or else…
“Or else what?” James timidly responded.
“Or else, you’ll be responsible for killing him.”
A Rose and Its Thorn (The Harbinger of Envy)
by Alexsander Edwards
Adrian Veidt stood still amidst the vast graveyard. Facing up and receiving the rainfall with his eyes closed as one would receive the waters of baptism. To all onlookers, he seemed alone, perhaps lost. They were partially right on the latter, but, for better or worse, he would never be alone.
“Fifty years,” he thought – not to himself, but to the creature who shared his mind like an unwanted tenant: Abennon.
No sooner had Adrian thought those words than the creature’s ugly, shark-like smile appeared in his mind’s eye. Taunting him in silence with its cracked, bone-like face.
“For fifty years I’ve suffered you,” Adrian continued. “So many dead and gone, yet I remain.”
“Yet you remain young and healthy!” the demon vexed his host with an ever-enlarging grin. “You’re as virile and strong as you were when we first met, even though you should be a decrepit old man by now! I would dare say that my powers give you exactly what you want right now, don’t they?”
Adrian took a deep breath and, having long since ditched his priestly clothes – which seemed more and more like they had belonged to a different person with each passing day – shook the water from his blue military fatigues, acquired when the generals of Teriand mistook his demonic abilities for the powers of their own false idol and conscripted him on the spot. The ability to manipulate blood was not only a powerful weapon in and of itself, but had proven to be an extremely effective fear tactic over the decades.
“No,” he retorted against the demon within, looking down at the gravestone before him. “No they do not, you foul thing.”
He could sense the demon grin one more time as he turned and walked away with a tear rolling down his cheek and the thoughts of the one thing he wanted the most flooding his mind. Perhaps the bringer of envy had won against his conviction in the end.
The best he could do now was forget the name etched onto the tombstone: Rose Veidt.
For Want of a Kiss (Cordelia’s Journey)
C. M. Weller
It wasn’t even a kiss, how did it end up like this? Cordelia had merely intended to save a life, but now she had somehow earned a Tiefling’s undying loyalty. Or, as he put it, “You put your lips to mine. That is… beyond special.”
It had been disturbing to know that he had never been kissed before she put air into his lungs for him. It was somehow less disturbing to see his demonic features melt into soft and soppy affection, or witness adoration in his golden glowing eyes.
Even now, in the markets, learning to act like a commoner and sheltering under the name Miss Delia. She saw him from a distance, looking at her and going… goopy in love.
He almost ran when she approached him. Didn’t know how to handle it when she smiled his way. Poor soul.
“Hello,” she said. “I must thank you for the rescue. You got me out of a dark place.”
*
It was only a kiss to many, but Delia knew that Kosh would count it as far more. She was not saving his life, this time, by putting her lips to his. Not in the physical sense. This was saving… HIM.
It had been terrifying to look into his eyes and see… nobody there. It was worse to see him blink and react to her with utmost terror. She had screamed when he ran from her, straight off the edge of a cliff. Of course she caught him. Saved his body, but his mind?
Even now, tangled and tethered in vines she summoned to hold him, it was clear his mind was not what it used to be. He was so far beneath his surface, she couldn’t see him inside his eyes.
As her lips left his, she could see the realisation dawning. See him coming back to himself after so long away. He still didn’t truly know how to react.
“Hello,” he said. “Shall I thank you for the rescue? I… was in a very bad place.”
Just like with your Lover (Forsaken Universe)
By Alex Nightingale (aka Spectre)
The fact that the ceiling was about to collapse on Lennah and him did not soothe Newton’s nerves. The fact that their only exit from the ruin was blocked helped even less. The fact that Rain was about to push the way free with a high-powered shuttle nacelle made him want to curl up and starve in this darkness.
“Oh, be positive,” Rain said, over coms, as the dreaded whirring of the shuttle drew closer, every breath from the engines potentially meaning collapse for the brittle stone. “I got this.”
“I’m brimming with confidence,” Newton deadpanned.
“Hey, I can do this.”
“Forgive me, if I remember your first practical, pilot cadet.”
“Oh, everyone fails their first practical.”
Lennah watched Newton converse with Rain. She had to admit that she hadn’t expected her first time within a planet’s atmosphere since the Incident to end with her being crushed underneath ancient rubble. And given the tremor in Rain’s voice, in spite of her confident words, it sounded like that seemed very likely.
“You’re not helping,” Newton said.
“Would you shut up and let me pilot? You’re making me nervous.”
“Oh, you’re nervous?” Newton raised his voice. “That helps…”
Lennah snatched the communicator from Newton.
“Rain? It’s Lennah. Listen up. You need to kiss the rocks.”
“Excuse me?”
“Not literally, but with the shuttle. Imagine… you’re kissing your lover good night. The rock is them…”
“And the shuttle is my lips…”
“Exactly.”
Newton stared at her.
“How is that helping?” he asked.
“Shut up and let me work,” Lennah turned back to the communicator. “Listen. It’s just a kiss. Just a gentle… kiss on the rocks.”
“Would it help or hurt, if I said that I’ve never actually kissed someone?”
“Hurt. But do it anyway.”
The shuttle whirred. Dust rained from the ceiling as it shook, menacingly. Lennah and Newton looked up. In the sound of shifting rocks, they imagined themselves being crushed by falling debris, as the red sunlight of Ozymandias’ star hit them.
Through the newly created opening, Rain grinned, sitting behind the shuttle controls.
“How’s that for a first kiss!”
Trust Issues
by Taja DaLeen
I had tried to warn her, right from the start, I did. And I thought her to be better, to be more than that, being a witch of almost a century; but she lost her heart, just like that.
It started with a simple kiss. Maybe it started before, I could not be too sure, but that was the time I noticed her thoughts circling, chasing, with only that Thing as their focus.
Oh, that Thing. I told her, I really told her who, no, what she was getting herself involved with. But I should always remember her spewing those blasted reasons, telling me not to judge so eagerly. “I trust Rahel”, she said.
I asked her how she could trust that creature, but she never did answer.
Alas, after that she never talked to me again.
Of course, I was still able to sometimes hear her thoughts, detect her feelings. There were some times I tried to talk to her about all this, but she would not listen.
And at first the happiness outweighed all else, every time they met she seemed even happier, smiling to herself during her rituals. There was one in particular she had that faraway look as well, while imbuing a pendant with a protection spell.
I was quite sure it was for that Thing. At that point they had been courting for a few months already.
But like I feared, the happiness did not last.
One evening she came home devastated. She had made yet another magical trinket wanting to surprise her girlfriend, as she called the creature, but something obviously went very awry.
I asked her what had happened, why she was crying, but still she would not talk to me. So I pried into her thoughts to see that which haunted her. And there I saw that wicked succubus kiss some man.
It was then I knew I could not help, for I never was able to grasp human emotions fully. I am but a serpent, the spirit protector of my witch.
I curled around her in hopes of easing her turmoil.
I Just Can’t Look, It’s Killing Me
By Marx (CW: Physical/Mental Abuse)
Daisy sat alone, kneeling in the corner. She wasn’t even allowed to sit next to him anymore. She simply watched as the two most important forces in her life talked to each other, completely ignoring her existence.
On one side, there was Jasmine. They used to be best friends. Inseparable. No matter what cruel or stupid choice Daisy made, Jasmine had been there to back her up. In some cases, she would even jump to take the bullet herself.
Those times were clearly gone.
On the other side, there was Alex. Her Master. Her “creator”. Her tormentor. No matter how much he hurt or humiliated her, she couldn’t stop how she felt about him. She’d say it was love, but he once told her that if he ever thought she’d truly fallen for him, he’d tear her limb from limb and leave her in a ditch somewhere. It wasn’t an idle threat. She was his thrall. She could easily survive something like that.
She knew this from experience.
Daisy watched from her corner as Alex unabashedly leered at Jasmine’s exposed cleavage while he spoke. Jasmine glared back with hate in her eyes but yet clearly enraptured by the tales of an immortal. They all knew he’d wear her down eventually. He’d already done so to countless other thralls. That was his game.
Daisy initially thought she was part of the game too, but it was clear to her now. Alex never actually wanted her. She was only a pawn to get Jasmine. And now that he had her, Daisy’s role was to stay in this corner and watch them grow closer.
It was agony.
Tears welled up but Daisy remained silent. Alex became so angry when his attention was drawn away from Jasmine. So, Daisy just watched and remembered the only time Alex had shown her any affection. It was with a kiss. Unwanted originally, as it was how she’d become a thrall to the incubus in the first place.
To him, the memory probably meant nothing. But as Daisy hugged herself, silently sobbing, it was all she had left.
The Kiss That Broke Everything (Nyssa’s Story)
By Calliope Rannis
Nyssa remembered her fortieth birthday.
She remembered how giddy, how excited she had felt.
Memories of grabbing her best friend Allina’s hand, and almost dragging her across the parks and coastline of Renovaire, pointing out plants and bugs and talking energetically about anything and everything with her.
She remembered how happy, how certain she had been.
She had invited Allina to dinner, like they so often did together. Not normally at a place so expensive, but this was a special occasion.
She remembered how nervous she felt.
She had stood to lean over the dining table, caressing Allina’s face with her hands as her lips pressed against her friend’s – until they jerked away from her like a hangman’s noose pulling taut.
There was this awful, long silence, as they both stared at each other with a kind of horror.
Allina was first to speak, after a deep breath. “Why? Why did you do that?”
“I-I…I, thought you would…like it?”
“Since when have I ever liked kissing? From anyone?”
“Well uh, I mean, I’m not just anyone-”
“Nyssa, you didn’t even ask.”
Her mouth was going dry. “Look, I’m sorry for that okay? It’s only because, I’ve been feeling really close with you, and-”
“Oh, it’s been close alright. What with how often you keep touching me. Seriously, it’s been getting overwhelming lately.”
Nyssa’s jaw dropped. “Wh-what? You didn’t – why didn’t you say anything?”
Allina’s body tensed. “Because you are my best friend, that’s why. I enjoy our walks and conversations, and I tolerated you every time you touched me because-”
“Tolerated?”
“-I didn’t want to make things…awkward.”
“You TOLERATED me?” Nyssa almost screamed, her throat tightening with anger.
“No – no, that is not what I meant at all-”
But ‘tolerated’ had already been burnt into her mind, and had already shattered her heart.
She knew there were other things they said to each other that evening. Hurtful, painful, broken things.
But she decided to be kind to herself, and opened her eyes to the present once more.
One painful memory at a time. The rest can wait for another day.