MyLovingWife

“General, they’re expecting you…” The seneschal called; she turned. His gaze worried her. “What’s happening?” She asked. He looked away; whatever he knew, he wouldn’t or couldn’t share. That was bad. She had a battle to fight, a war to win or lose - a possibility considering the foe. What business should take her away from her soldiers? She entered the throne room, eyes averted; felt more people than should be there. An aura stronger than any she’d ever encountered, a soul so bright it burnt even though she wasn’t facing it. And her heart sped, as if in recognition. She stifled a gasp. “General…” an invitation to look up. She did; stepped back as if struck. The… angel by the King; he was… her hand moved of its own volition, reaching. She stopped herself, stood at attention. “So it’s true then…” She looked back at her King, noticed the Queen’s smile. “We didn’t quite believe it…” “Why would I lie?” There was annoyance in the angel’s tone but something more profound. As if he’d

Once upon a time, that’s how it’s supposed to start, isn’t it? Once upon a time, there was a couple. It always begins like that… sorry. This couple wanted a child; well really they needed an heir. But it was a girl that was born and though they should have been glad, they were disappointed. As she aged, the girl seemed destined to be… less than attractive. Her parents found every opportunity to berate her; for her awkwardness, her gender and her looks. Mostly her looks. Her mother was a beauty and could not bear having a child who did not look anything but gorgeous. As the child turned 7, her mother was pregnant again and this time the much anticipated son was born. He was as handsome as she was plain, with golden hair and beautiful chiseled features. She tried to gain her parents’ love by becoming knowledgeable in science, literature, History, even politics though it wasn’t usually meant for girls. But they only had eyes for her little brother. Beauty was the sole measure of

When History tells of your life, it won’t be told from your point of view. You will be reviled and presented as the wretched creature who tried to lay waste to a kingdom for no reason other than greed. The legendary hero will be the one who caused your downfall. Because History is written by the victors and for all intent and purposes you did lose. So this is me trying to tell your story; how you became the supposed monster they sought to destroy. Although to be fair… the future might say they were the monsters. Or not... They won’t say how it all began for you; in the corridors of the royal palace when young ladies are presented to court. Or maybe it started earlier… you were the fourth daughter and every family member agreed your eldest had taken all the good any fairy might offer. You were an afterthought in your parents’ mind, especially since a brother, an heir, was born merely a year after you. And your sisters well… better they didn’t think of you. Siblings can be cruel

Sitting on the porch, she rests… it’s something she’s had to learn because it is needed. The sun shines today and though the air is chilly, maybe even cold - she doesn’t feel it, her kind is usually unaffected - she enjoys the warmth of the winter sun on her face. She casts a glance towards the paddock. Smiles. She watches him, as he holds their newborn, his long blond hair a contrast to the short mop of dark hair on the child’s head. He keeps the baby against his chest, the both of them wrapped in a warm cloak against what must be a biting breeze for them. He’s singing a lullaby he once hummed to her. She never imagined she could be happy just observing this man and their daughter. But she is. She’d never have imagined the things she would do for him, for them. A love so encompassing that she has changed in ways she never anticipated. She leans back; she’s tired still and their son is feeding. The birth was… demanding. She’d never been afraid of death before… it was a part of the

City dwellers never listen... But they think they know better “Impossible!” “You don’t understand.” “Prove it…” “It’s dangerous…” One doesn’t intrude upon the Guardians’ territory without consequences. “Lies… Legends. We’ll cut down the forest.” “But...” “Show me.” You sigh. Always the same with them. You try to warn them… “Fine.” You guide him through the forest paths where they will come. Then you wait. Not long. When the creatures appear, you retreat. Step on a branch. The animal turns its glowing blue eyes towards the stranger. He’s turned to forestry. You smile; the village’s safe. Because city dwellers never listen.

Illy sat up, a scream dying on her lips when she realized Amastan slept beside her. A nightmare: again. She sighed. Rubbed her face. Started, as she glanced at the window... sighed again. She needed to tell Amastan to cut the branches of the tree; they looked like some many-limbed-monster stood by their window, watching them sleep. She shuddered. She didn’t need more nightmares. She wouldn’t sleep again, not after one of those, so she left the bed. Amastan whispered some ininteligible words but didn’t wake up. She smiled. Even in his sleep, he made her feel safe. She closed the small panel that served as a door for now and limped to the kitchen. On the small stove she placed a pot of water to boil it. She pulled out her mother’s teapot - she would love to know it was still in use - and placed some crushed tea leaves, mint and sugar within. When the water boiled she poured it. She cast a glance outside the small round window behind her. Shook her head. No one was watching. She was

Once upon a time, that’s how it’s supposed to start, isn’t it? Once upon a time, there was a couple. It always begins like that… sorry. This couple wanted a child; well really they needed an heir. But it was a girl that was born and though they should have been glad, they were disappointed. As she aged, the girl seemed destined to be… less than attractive. Her parents found every opportunity to berate her; for her awkwardness, her gender and her looks. Mostly her looks. Her mother was a beauty and could not bear having a child who did not look anything but gorgeous. As the child turned 7, her mother was pregnant again and this time the much anticipated son was born. He was as handsome as she was plain, with golden hair and beautiful chiseled features. She tried to gain her parents’ love by becoming knowledgeable in science, literature, History, even politics though it wasn’t usually meant for girls. But they only had eyes for her little brother. Beauty was the sole measure of

When History tells of your life, it won’t be told from your point of view. You will be reviled and presented as the wretched creature who tried to lay waste to a kingdom for no reason other than greed. The legendary hero will be the one who caused your downfall. Because History is written by the victors and for all intent and purposes you did lose. So this is me trying to tell your story; how you became the supposed monster they sought to destroy. Although to be fair… the future might say they were the monsters. Or not... They won’t say how it all began for you; in the corridors of the royal palace when young ladies are presented to court. Or maybe it started earlier… you were the fourth daughter and every family member agreed your eldest had taken all the good any fairy might offer. You were an afterthought in your parents’ mind, especially since a brother, an heir, was born merely a year after you. And your sisters well… better they didn’t think of you. Siblings can be cruel

Sitting on the porch, she rests… it’s something she’s had to learn because it is needed. The sun shines today and though the air is chilly, maybe even cold - she doesn’t feel it, her kind is usually unaffected - she enjoys the warmth of the winter sun on her face. She casts a glance towards the paddock. Smiles. She watches him, as he holds their newborn, his long blond hair a contrast to the short mop of dark hair on the child’s head. He keeps the baby against his chest, the both of them wrapped in a warm cloak against what must be a biting breeze for them. He’s singing a lullaby he once hummed to her. She never imagined she could be happy just observing this man and their daughter. But she is. She’d never have imagined the things she would do for him, for them. A love so encompassing that she has changed in ways she never anticipated. She leans back; she’s tired still and their son is feeding. The birth was… demanding. She’d never been afraid of death before… it was a part of the

I’m checking stuff on my phone when the line rings. I sigh, put my headphones back on and hear the tiny click telling me someone is listening to my call. Shit! Honestly! Why me? Every time. Smile Sierra. “Thank you for calling Lycanthrope Insurance. Howl and we’ll be right there to help.” That slogan sucks, but if management is listening, I need to get this right. “My name is Sierra, how may I assist you today?” “Hello, I’m calling to make a claim. Open a claim? I’m not… sure…” Ok the woman’s distressed. Great… I’m so... having to escalate this one... “I’ll do my best to assist you, Ma’am. May I have your insurance policy number, please?” “Yes… sure. 12G95Z363.” “Thank you very much Ma’am. For security reasons, may I have the name and date of birth of the policy holder.” “Of course it’s under Zeff and Daciana Gamma Darkmoon and my husband’s date of birth is June 5 1905.” Wow… that one’s old. “Thank you very much Mrs. Gamma Darkmoon.” “Darkmoon is ok, it’s a mouthful

Must I go to the post office? Pfff… I wanted to idle in a bath reading before starting work. Nothing too heavy; horror shorts. More like supernatural, demon possession. I’d liked the teaser, one about the Titanic. To be honest, I didn’t want to contemplate going out wearing a mask in the heatwave. I had a bad feeling about this; I was no dreamwalker but… I shivered. I needed the package though; I’d expected it for days. I sighed. I should go before it got busy. I took a quick shower; not satisfying at all! “Bye hon’” “Bye mom.” She stood in the living room; she’d probably idle all day. What else could she do? I put the mask on before leaving. I never made it to the post office. I was crossing the alleyway behind my mom’s apartment, when… “Get her Schwartz!” Shit! Rogues? At this hour? I tried to run. With rogues… not a chance. I froze in place before taking two steps. Rage boiled. I tried to scream but choked. Fuck! “No no; you’ll be a good girl and keep your mouth closed. For

He looked at his creation; a decade! But he’d succeeded. It was bittersweet. He hesitated. Tears ran down his face. He wished she were here. He plugged the automaton, energy surging around him. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. It? She opened her eyes, green power, like the heart beating in her chest. She smiled. “Archie,” She hesitated. “Why are you crying love?” She was here; sort of. ~~ He held her body close to him, tears running down his face. Why? People moved liked ants around them, useless in their attempt to help. Nobody was coming. He knew it; she knew it too. Panic had scattered the crowd making them all easy targets. He shielded her; how could he imagine others were coming from behind? She’d shielded him. And now. “I love you Archie. Always and forever.” ~~ They looked at the automaton; a first attempt, but they were proud of it beyond measure. A glimpse into what they could do. “I love you Morgan. Always and forever.” She smiled. He held her. “Don’t go.” She

Victory! I pressed my diploma against my chest. Wow! My parents would be so proud. If they could see me; it had been such a difficult journey. Fraught with obstacles and hidden tests along the way. I passed each… not each, most of them. And I did it. I never imagined this was my future. Last woman standing! I would take on the world; one soul at a time. ~~ “No. Wrong.” He rolled his eyes. This class. A bunch of idiots! Except Lucy. Had they fallen so low that he must teach imbeciles who only sat here because they were too afraid to let go? They offered training to anyone these days. He remembered when he taught one trainee at a time. The workload could be soul crushing but who ever said it was easy being Death’s apprentice? ~~ Lucy numbly looked at her body, broken on the rocks, where she fell. “Oh God! I’m dead…” she sobbed. She had no tears to shed. “Lucy?” He stood right there, a spot empty seconds before. “Who are you?” He raised an eyebrow. Stupid question? “I have an

The floorboards creaked under her feet; damn it! Her mother called. Couldn’t things happen the way she needed them to for once? “Yes Mom?” “Go to bed! Now!” “Yes Mom.” Resigned, sulking, Martha crept back into her room. No matter how drunk, her mother always managed to screw her up. She threw her jacket on her bed; then herself over it. Fuck her mom! So fucking unfair. She would miss Missy’s birthday party. Her mother ruined her life. She punched her pillow, imagining her mom’s head. What sort of life she did she live? One filled with a never ending list of rules and punishment should she stray from them. A life with no fun, a life where even schoolwork could send her mother into such a morose mood she would drink until she passed out. Of course her mother faced terrible issues; her PTSD would turn her from the sweetest lady into a monster who considered her daughter a useless piece of shit. Tears stained her pillow; she couldn’t blame her mother. She could though; her mom did

Sasha held the baby in her arms, singing a lullaby. He was perfect. He would do great things. She looked up at her husband, smiling. Andres grinned back at her, proud of this child who really wasn’t theirs. She couldn’t tell him that though. It would destroy him, and the villagers would kill them all. Her baby couldn’t become the monster legends said he would. She'd ensure he didn’t. ~~ She laughed. Mortals! Always thinking they knew better. She was so easy this one. Sweet, weak. Afraid. Of course they all were when they saw her. The mortal didn’t resist her; better be a vessel than a sacrifice. Still she screamed when she entered her. She was a burning demon after all. One whose consort was waiting. A child must be conceived to carry their power into the world. ~~ “I don’t want to go, please Andres.” He rolled his eyes. “Don’t be a child Sasha.” “But the Corn Maiden…” “Doesn’t exist. It’s a myth darling. You won’t burn.” Andres loved his wife; but she was so naive. He knew the

That year, the winter wouldn’t end; snow held onto every branch, every home, unwilling to give way to spring, as the natural wheel of the year ordered. It caused them misery; children getting sickly, elderly fading at night. Food became scarce; the herds, supposed to have returned by now, remained elusive. If it continued their tribe would wither and die; they didn’t understand. Had they affronted the Lord of their tribe? How? When? They had paid respect in the same ways they ever did. “I shall consult with the spirits of the elders,” their shaman said. That was four days ago and he was still in his sacred trance. Four days… What if he didn’t find the answer? What would they do? Should they leave the only home they’d known? The Seven Valleys were rich; at least until now. The frozen rivers yielded no fish, the snowed in woods no berries or mushrooms. Should they search for the herds, as they once did? Few animals had come out of hibernation, although they couldn’t last much longer

She'd captured his attention in a way no other ever had. Her lips, pursed in a lovely pout of concentration were as enticing as her ocean blue eyes. Her dark brown curls curtained most of her face but he knew its every line by now. He hesitated; there was a time he would have approached her without the slightest remorse, would have flirted and coaxed until she did everything he wanted. Today, he felt shy. Still when she left the library, picking up a couple of books - he chuckled at the well known subject - he followed her. He wanted - no needed - to speak to her. She stopped once, glancing behind her, as if she knew he followed. He could see the concern in her face. She was sensitive; most wouldn’t have seen anyone behind them and just shaken the feeling; but obviously she didn’t. She shrugged, rolled her shoulders, as if she’d experienced before. Well he’d been following her a while now; not stalking, he wasn’t stalking her. She moved on, crossing to the other side and moving

There was unrest in the village; he felt it the moment he entered the place. His trade required he knew how to read a crowd; an important quality for a musician. And he could feel the unease. See it too. People were slithering along the walls avoiding the crosswalks and the street. Fear was palpable, the atmosphere heavy with it, as if it were a living thing. He went to his usual inn, only to find it empty. A curious thing; most villagers would be having a pint at that time; but the innkeeper seemed even too distressed to welcome him. Seemed not to want to take him in. But Lochlan wasn’t going farther tonight; he was too tired. The innkeeper still didn’t say a word, only gave him a key and disappeared again without even offering dinner or a drink. Lochlan took a candle in its holder and went up the stairs to the room he was given. What was going on? He rubbed his face, attempting to chase the exhaustion away. In vain. He would sleep and figure it out tomorrow. Herthford was usually a

Started last year by :devmmbaird: Tribble Month is a month long challenge to write a story 55-300 words every single day for the entirety of September. Since Tribble Month sprouted off of Flash-fic-month, submit any stories written off this list to :iconflashfictionmonth: ‘s Tribble Month folder. And do join the discord server here: https://discord.com/invite/h5cQVqg This list below is your prompt list for this September. Write one story or thirty, it doesn’t matter, any participation is good participation. Every Wednesday is a CHALLENGE DAY and will have a post addition with the challenge details. (Except day 1 since that’s when we’re starting.) All challenges were made by me and any prompt without a credit was also made by me. I borrowed a few unused prompts from the FFM Bank so they wouldn’t go to waste. Let me know in the comments if you have any questions or if I’ve missed anything. Use the hashtag tribblemonth2021 in your posts, because why not?

Your friends and family were gone. They'd been mauled, murdered, and reduced into invaluable shells of people you still loved. You didn't get to say goodbye — only scream hoarsely and sob as you rushed to find a means of escape. Nobody knew what caused this. Whether it was extraterrestrial life or just a globally lethal mixture of catastrophes, everything was ending. Flash floods, tornadoes, heat strokes, everything one could imagine was hitting the Earth all at once and nobody seemed to cover it quick enough before a tragedy struck them. In a less severe scenario, you would be seen as one of the luckier ones — though it was anything but fortunate. You gripped your steering wheel tightly, foot slammed onto the gas pedal. You didn't know what was going on. People were losing their fucking minds. Gunshots blasted in the air, the incoherent screams of both the madmen and the innocent finally cracking, all wondering why. Why did it have to come to this? What could any of us do? Nearby

Welcome to Flash Fiction Month, day 8. The middle of the week is upon us. Maybe you’re still full of ideas. Or perhaps your energy is flagging. Whatever you state of mind, the next challenge is sure to pique your interest, because you’ll be challenging each other! We’ve uploaded this a little early so everyone has enough time to get responses, but even if you’re late to the party we’ll still be here to challenge you. And even if you don’t normally engage in this side of FFM we encourage you to make an exception just this once. :dummy: Have fun! Instructions Flash Fiction Month is about writing – and posting – a story between 55-1000 words in length every day during July. Each day we'll upload a deviation where you can post your story for the day, with optional prompts, and the occasional optional challenge. Paste a link to your flash fiction piece for July 8 in the comments below. If you write a story every day this month, and complete every challenge, you will enter the

Legend tells that long ago, the world was made of sea floor that floated above the water in a land of pure light. Light so bright it could burn and blind. Land that was covered by a bubble so big that you could not see the edges of it. It was warm there without the vents and all the resources one would need were just scattered about waiting to be picked up instead of carefully harvested. In the time before the ocean rise, Atlantis was in this beautiful world. It’s a lovely children’s story meant to spark the imagination, but not real. I’ve always known that. The world is covered in water and to go to high in the water is to risk certain death. There isn’t enough pressure up there to keep your body together. Plus it’s cold away from the thermal vents. I’ve heard stories from those that have gone to the very edge of what we can survive that say it is brighter up there but I suspect that is just their brain suffering from too little pressure. Personally I prefer the lovely glow of the

Bryan threw the door open, stepped into the room, and tossed his case onto the desk. The action making a loud reverb through the room. The other man jumped, falling out of his chair for a moment. Bryan didn’t wait for him to recover. “A deal’s a deal. I got your stupid marbles now where’s my payment.” There was no amount of question in his tone. He scowled and began tapping his foot. The other man, Edward, regained his composure while Bryan started tapping away on the tile floor. He cleared his throat and pulled the case over, flipping it open to inspect the contents. Within were a dozen orbs the size of marbles; what differentiated them from normal toys however, was the fact that they were all made of a different gemstone. If it weren’t for the plush padding of the case, throwing them onto the table might have cracked one. Edward nodded and closed them up. “We will get to your payment. But first, questions.” Bryan continued tapping his foot, crossed his arms, and stared at Edward