Writing Group: The Wild Bride (PRIVATE)

Hello, Wedding Parties and Guests!

Ah, weddings are a beautiful thing, aren’t they? All sorts of ceremonies or traditions,  all the planning and prepping. But it’s not all sunshine and roses, is it? It’s time to see how hectic things can be, because…

This week’s Writing Group prompt is:

The Wild Bride

Make sure you scroll down and read them if you haven’t! You may not be eligible if you don’t!

Weddings are a time of bliss, joy, and love. But there’s a lot that goes into a wedding; choosing the wedding party, the guests, who is the Best Man and the Maid of Honour, the decorations, the catering, the hall rental, music, favours, dresses, suits, and so much more.

But this prompt, like the wedding itself, is about the bride. And there’s all different ways to address such a prompt.

One way for a bride to be wild is if she goes into hysterics. Perhaps all the stress of a deadline fast approaching is getting to the bride. She’s getting impatient, and angry at little things, and has little crying fits at night when she’s alone and down a couple glasses of wine. She feels like she’s losing her mind in all the chaos, and it’s overwhelming. Or maybe she has a more solid reason for being hysterical… like catching the groom with one of her bridesmaids a few days before the wedding is supposed to take place. Or she has a meltdown right before having to walk down the aisle, her nerves getting the better of her. Maybe she even gets into a fight with her parents after her mother makes a comment about something.

Another way to address “wild” is that maybe she just gets really rowdy when she’s drunk, and has a little too much to drink at her bachelorette party, or even during the reception. Is she a happy drunk? Or perhaps she’s a gloomy drunk? She could even be an emotional swinging drunk, where she’s happy one minute, crying the next, and then happy again. Or perhaps she’s simply described as a wildflower by her groom, who just loves that crazy side of her.

“Wild” can be subjective, and can suit nearly any situation, good or bad. So get your quills out and show us your one-of-a-kind brides, whether she’s in sickness or in health.

Just don’t forget the bouquet.


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!

  1. Text and Formatting

    1. English only.
    2. Prose only, no poetry or lyrics.
    3. Use proper spelling, grammar, and syntax.
    4. Your piece must be between 250-350 words (you can use this website to see your wordcount).
    5. Use two paragraph breaks between each paragraph so that they have a proper space between them (press “enter” or “return” twice).
    6. 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.
    7. 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.
  2. What to Submit

    1. Keep submissions “safe-for-work”; be sparing with sexuality, violence, and profanity.
    2. Try to focus on making your submission a single meaningful moment rather than an entire story.
    3. Write something brand new; no re-submitting past entries or pieces written for other purposes
    4. 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.
    5. 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).
  3. Submission Rules

    1. One submission per participant.
    2. Submit your entry in a comment on this post.
    3. Submissions close at 12:00pm CST each Friday.
    4. 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.
    5. 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.
    6. 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).
    7. 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.
    8. 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.

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1 year ago

The Silent Wolf
by Lunabear

Tamika inhaled through her nose and trapped the breath within her throat. She listened to her heart rabbit punch against her ribcage.

Nathaniel Drake stood across from her, his proud smile gentle, as he spoke his vows.

He was her anchor.

‘This is what I’ve worked towards. Fought for. I. Deserve. This.’

She exhaled slowly through her mouth before touching the red collar at her clavicle. After this, she’d be a different person.

Tamika met Nathaniel’s steadfast gaze. She returned his smile and vows tearfully.

Rings were exchanged.

They shared an exquisite kiss.

Cheers from Nathaniel’s side and empty pews from hers spurred their hurried pace up the aisle.

Tonight couldn’t arrive soon enough.


Wantonly naked.

The full moon played hide and seek behind the clouds. Even so, Tamika could feel her dazzling strength.

Strong arms embraced her from behind. Warm flesh pressed into her back.

Nimble fingers unwound her curls, and she sighed deeply. Those same fingers traced around her collar to the front.

Nathaniel stood before Tamika, unashamed. He pulled her into a scorching kiss, leaving her breathless.

“Sing with me,” he coaxed.

A hollow thud sounded. The light snap of the collar registered. A long forgotten howl echoed through her mind, and a surge of power flowed into her.

Tamika’s eyes widened, and she touched timid fingers to her bared throat. It was sore and bruised. When she attempted to speak, words fled.

Years of bowing at her grandfather’s feet and kissing his boots. Her sister suffering the same subjugation. Her parents and brother doing nothing to stop it.

‘No more. Leave it behind.’

Tamika sighed.

“Don’t allow your past to be all you ever are, my darling.”

He tipped his chin to the sky and howled jovially.

A coarse ripple rocked Tamika, and she howled in response. Her toes curled, and she laughed. Unrestrained, her wolf barreled to the surface.

The mighty beast shook out its black fur and stretched, awaiting its mate.

Nathaniel beamed, and his tan wolf emerged.

They nuzzled and sang to the air once more.

Tamika raced away, and Nathaniel gave chase.

Last edited 1 year ago by Lunabear
jesse fisher
jesse fisher
1 year ago

Fighting Dragons for Love
By Jesse Fisher

“You know I always thought I was going to wear a suit and tie on my wedding day.” The lone human commented to the best man elf. “The fact I have to wear a suit of armor due to the fact I must prove my ability to protect my bride.”

“Be happy this isn’t with my family.” They replied actually in normal wedding attire. “You had to sing for hours of your love, and it can’t be the same artist twice.”

“That seems a bit easier.”

“There are reasons I will only invite you to my wedding because you can sleep while we keep singing.”

The human gave an understanding nod. By that time a dragon walked in draconic chainmail looking at the human.

“It is time to prove if you are worthy of the clan’s heir.”

The human just nodded as the metal klinted as he followed the dragon with the elf behind him.

What some might think of a wedding would be a priest to unite the pair or just go to the court house. Dragons in this day and age make it more of a,,,contest.

Many of the dragon families agreed to this type of union as it allowed only the strong to keep going for the next generation. Some of the families also saw it as a way to keep the families pure as how could anything but a true dragon win the claw of another. Those deemed to be flawed were banned from any attempts.

Those who conceived these rules failed to notice that ‘failures’ found love in others but were ignored. Over time dragon blood leaked out into the world until it came to this day.


“I have bested every dragon that you’ve thrown at me.” The human yelled to the arbiters of the whole thing. “Now let my bride enjoy her life.”

Behind them the bride’s family nodded in agreement. Most would see the looks on the arbiters faces but the rules were ironclad. All the while the best man just smiled.

1 year ago

“Monstrous Matrimony”
By Hemming Sebastian Bane

Doctor Emese Iltrum smoothed the skirt of her wedding dress. What was it? The sixth time she’d worn it? She’d lost count at this point. Oh well. This one would be the one. At least, she hoped so. Iltrum went over her makeup again to make sure she was presentable. Rouge returned the rose to her cheek that was stolen by nightly work and dark cellars. Her painted lips curled into a smile. In the mirror, she was perfect. But inside, she felt nervous.

The wedding hall was sparse in both decoration and attendance. The rows of benches were adorned with dying flowers, half parched, half drowned. The three people that occupied the hall all sat on the bride’s side of the hall. A nervous vicar of the Church of the Heptadeka fiddled with his holy book, trying not to look at the groom. Instead, he looked down the aisle to the bride, arm locked with a raisin of an elf.

“A-all rise for the e-entrance of the bride.” The vicar’s trembling voice echoed and the one occupied bench groaned as the three attendees stood. Silently, Iltrum walked down the aisle with no regard to the ancient Fae by her side. He staggered and stumbled until the two were at the alter. Iltrum dropped the man as if he were a leper.

“Wh-who gi–”

“Him.” Iltrum pointed to the man on the floor.

The vicar swallowed the lump in his throat. “R-right. Dearly beloved, we are–”

“Can we skip to the vows?” Iltrum asked.

The vicar looked at the woman with incredulity before nodding. “Y-yes. Do you, Emese Aloisa Iltrum–”

“DOCTOR Emese Aloisa Iltrum.”

“Do you, Doctor Emese Aloisa Iltrum, take… HIM, as your lawfully wedded husband?”

“I do.”

Iltrum looked at her groom. The stitches along his skin were still infected, but that’d be healed by the honeymoon. The most beautiful green eyes she’d ever seen. The dark arms of a miner. The legs of a dancer. The torso of a strongman. The pale face of a celebrant heir. He was her ideal. And nothing would keep them apart.

Last edited 1 year ago by WolfsbaneX
Calliope Rannis
Calliope Rannis
1 year ago

Nothing Left But Her (Nyx’s Story)
By Calliope Rannis

Nyx woke up to a sharp pain in her left foot. Her pained groan joined the rustling of the woods surrounding her camp. She closed her eyes, bowed her head, and waited for the pain to fade…



…now just a dull ache below her knee.

She looked up again to find the bright pink face of Louise looking back at her with a small, comforting smile, and a bowl of warm soup.

“Breakfast time my dear!”

The morning passed in a blur, until a gentle pat on the arm brought her back to reality.

“I’ll need to change your bandages now. Is that okay?”

Nyx grimaced, but nodded.

Louise was gentle, and she redressed her right leg with only mild pain. But with her left, she had to adjust it, and when she did-

-the sharp, stabbing pain in her foot began again, surging up her leg and bringing tears to her eyes. She felt like screaming.

“Oh, sorry dear…”

“Why?” Bitter words escaped Nyx’s mouth. “Why is my foot still hurting?”

“You know I can’t-”

Nyx lifted up the offending leg, staring at it in despair. “It’s not even THERE anymore!”

The stump of her leg fell back into the sheets, defeated.

Nyx crumbled into ugly crying, and Louise held her. And once Nyx’s body stopped shaking, Louise kissed her forehead and left, promising to be back soon.

And when she did…she was holding something behind her back?

“You found something?”

“Made something, actually.” She took the item from behind her back, and transferred it gently into Nyx’s arms.

A construct of wood and bone, bound together with thick resin and twine. And it looked an awful lot like-

“It’s your leg!” Louise blurted out helpfully. “It’s nearly finished.”

“How-where did-”

“I made it from your old leg…though I had to boil the flesh off and reinforce it. But it should serve you well, my dear!”

Nyx’s eyes widened. An astonished laugh left her lips. “Gods…you really have, haven’t you…”

And in that moment, Nyx realised that she wanted Louise to be part of her life forever.



1 year ago

Entwined by Fate and Ivy
by Exce

Despite having lived much of his life in a building hewn from a mountain, stone thick enough to bury him if it ever fell, the strange half-shadows of the forest still sent a shiver down his back.

He had to tilt his head back all the way to even see the tops of the trees, and the elephantine trunks only made him feel smaller still.
But that would not discourage him, even if his eyes darted from one shadow to the next.

Tarsbylin had come to this great forest to find one thing, and one thing only. The Woman that had saved his life so many months ago. When the world had been upended on top of them and where they had been on a churning battlefield moment, they were surrounded by nothingness the next.

He still wasn’t sure what had happened, but something had gone horribly wrong so violently they had been sure that they were dead. Instead they were stranded for weeks, living off plants grown with each other’s magic.

Shapes blurred through the branches overhead, and the hairs on the back of Tarsbylins’s neck rose as he felt watched. Well, he had hoped she would find him swiftly.

Fallen leaves crinkled underfoot, and twigs snapped as he took care not to be unintentionally stealthily.

The ordeal had left both of them haggard, in more ways than one, and old scars had opened back up as if carved anew. Neither of them had wanted to die alone under an empty sky, and they had gotten closer.

Until their fate turned.

Whatever had catapulted them into nothingness, finally ran out, and the two of them found themselves back at that same beach. Too exhausted and ill to do much, they were separated when their respective people came to care for them.

But Tars had not forgotten.

And neither had she.

He turned around slowly, hands empty and open, looking up at the figure balanced on the edge of the branch. Long braid trailing behind her, she casually leaned on a spear, and her smile lit up the gloam.

Last edited 1 year ago by Revisis
1 year ago

Two Can Keep a Secret
By Lavorther

Moonlight spilled into the bedroom as Valerie clambered through the window. Eric groaned and rolled over.

“You… going somewhere?”

He seemed just conscious enough to realize she wasn’t wearing her nightgown.

“Just returned, actually. Went for a bit of a walk to clear my head.”

“Nervous for tomorrow?”

She nodded. “Yeah. It’s a big day, after all.”

“We’ll be fine. It’s normal to have pre-marriage butterflies, but you should get some sleep.”

“I will.” She reached over and kissed him. The smell of the alcohol he’d drowned his own anxiety in burned her nose. “Go back to sleep. I’ll grab a glass of water and do the same.”

Eric smiled, kissed her forehead, and rolled over again.

She was halfway down the stairs when she finally released the breath she’d been holding. Had his nose been as good as hers, he’d known something was off. But it seemed the alcohol and sleep had dulled his inferior senses even further. Something she hadn’t considered when she’d encouraged his drinking last night, but it was fortunate.

Valerie washed her hands in the kitchen, cleaning the grime from under her nails. Her clothes stuck to her back, but showering had to wait until tomorrow. It had been a while since she’d hunted down a prey. It had been exhilarating, running on all fours again, chasing him all the way into the forest. Her human form felt so weak and frail in comparison. They’d probably think poor Shaun was mauled by a bear when they found him tomorrow.

She pulled a letter from inside her shirt and tossed it onto the glowing embers of the hearth. It didn’t catch fire instantly, and she once again read the lines that were seared into her memory.

‘I know what you are. You need to tell Eric the truth before he marries you. If you won’t, I’ll expose your secret in front of the entire town tomorrow. He needs to know. How he finds out is up to you.’

Shame. She never liked Eric’s overprotective brother much, but this had been an unfortunate turn of events.

Last edited 1 year ago by Lavorther
1 year ago

The Shaman and Xir Wife
By RVMPLSTLTSKN (The Saga of The Deep One’s Wake)

Tai lounged next to xir wife, fingers caressing her thigh. Her name was Arape, and she wore her hair in that matting style which Tai found most seductive.

“Every war starts in the heart,” Tai murmured, lips brushing earlobe.

“You want to go to war?”

“Over one dead girl? No. I want to stay here with you and guide our people.”

“You’d go to war if I were murdered that way.”

“Yes,” Tai admitted. “That’s what troubles me.”

But Arape was not dead and that made a difference. The murderer was long gone when they found the crime. Tai would need to get horses to catch up. Horses were not cheap and stealing them would cause a war.

“You are a person of balance, Tai, my love. You stand between us and the Unknown. It is your nature to seek peace in the face of violence.”

Tai nodded, face in Arape’s neck.

Arape laid a hand on xir breast and gently pushed xir back. “War can bring balance too.”


“I know you tried to give Mappe’s soul rest. I know it was gone already. This isn’t a man who wanted her for her body or an animal who wanted her blood. This is something else. A spirit.”

Tai said nothing. It was better that way.

“Go get the horses. Find the murderer and protect us like a shaman should. Banish or seal this spirit.”

Tai smiled sadly. “And leave you, my savage wife?”


“What if It returns while I’m away? What if this murderous spirit comes for you?”

“Then I will be with you, starting that war in your heart.” Arape kissed xir, and muttered, “I will see you again, my love. Go, remind the spirits what we learned from the gods of war. And if it is men, bury them alive. Burn their cities above them. Let no one ever come for us and ours again.”

Tai stood and looked at the old horseman’s armor xir grandfather had used. It would fit. Hope howled in xir mind; the rage of a lamed protector, of stymied responsibilities.

Adrian Solorio
Adrian Solorio
1 year ago

Faith and Hope
By Adrian Solorio

Faith watched her son across the table and smiled as he picked at his plate. It had been a long time since he had gone, more than ten years, but he was back now, and she gushed over him. “Here,” she said. “Take another coffee.”

John held his fork halfway to his mouth and muttered, “I’m fine. Hope got’s me down to a cup a day–”

“Well, what’s-her-face isn’t your mother and she isn’t here now–is she?” Faith held her son’s gaze until he coughed and looked away. The cafe was half-full, and the sound of chatter mixed with the smell of bacon and pancakes. “You want another cup, I can tell. Just like your father. You don’t know what you want till I tell you.” John mumbled a weak protest but was ignored.

While a passing waitress took the order, Faith bragged to her about her son–her Johnny. Told about him leaving town, making himself into a man; joked that after all his years away he had finally come back to be with his old mother. Before Faith could continue, the waitress apologized and left the table.

“I told you I was fine–”

“Relax,” said Faith, “your little girlfriend isn’t here–relax.”

John’s voice was taut. “Her name’s Hope, and she’s not my girlfriend anymore.”

Faith brightened. Her eyes danced, and her mouth corners curled into a smirk that she had to battle down to a frown. She struggled to mask her excited words with grim sadness when she asked, what had happened?

“We’re getting married.”

Her face darkened. “She’s not like us,” Faith hissed. “I don’t want grandkids with her skin or her kinky hair.”

They glared at each other.

John had never been so angry. And for the first time in his life, he wasn’t the first to break. “Hope wanted me to make this work, even though I knew it wouldn’t,” he said. “You haven’t changed, but the times have. It’s my life.” She tried to argue, to belittle, but he ignored her. He laid bills on the table and left. Left his mother there alone.

Last edited 1 year ago by Adrian Solorio
1 year ago

That’s No Monster (Illusions of Heroes)
By Gerrit (Rattus)

Stone tumbled to the ground as the fort continued to fall into ruin, the mortar giving up its hold on the few chunks of wall that remained—more or less—intact.

Emrys strode through what was left of the halls, smiling at the destruction around him. His war club held loose in one hand, each step was made with the confidence of a man who knew he had nothing to fear.

With every twist and turn that brought him deeper into what was once a proud battlement, the smell of death grew. Corpses began to crop up as he went further, sprawled across the ground or propped against a wall.

Less than a day ago, this building stood tall, filled to the brim with Knights Arcane waiting to be given a mission. Centuries of history and wars were contained within these walls, and it had all crumbled down over the course of an afternoon.

He was almost there now, if his information was correct. A few more minutes and he would find himself in the sub-basement, which he hoped would have the answers he was after. If it didn’t, well, then perhaps another fort would. They already destroyed one, how much harder could it be to repeat the task?

Just before he reached the final door, a weak, grasping hand caught hold of the leg of his trousers. Emrys looked down to the dying soldier beside him, sitting against the wall, a small pool of blood beneath him.

“Don’t go…turn back.” The man’s breaths were ragged and laboured, the words coming out a few at a time. “The whole fort…gone. We were…supposed to be…the best. But we were…nothing…to her.” He coughed, and blood spluttered onto his shirt. “She’s…a monster.”

Emrys crouched down until his gaze was level with that of the dying man. He gently pried the weakened hand away from himself, placing it over the man’s chest. Then he looked into the fading eyes before him, and a smirk spread across his face.

“That’s my wife.”

1 year ago

We Run
By MysteryElement

The air practically crackled with ice, as if a hidden web of frost hung in the air surrounding us. It was not just cold, it was an intimate cold that seeped into the marrow of your being and lingered beyond any warming fire. It was winter incarnate, the heralding of the Hunt.

It was an old tradition to have maidens run for the hunt, stemming from some long forgotten era of our past, though few ran out of true faith as our village did. Some say this used to be a spring festival, back when the earth’s warmth would wax and wane with the seasons, but now it welcomed our coldest hour and served as a prayer to spare our families from the bitter frost.

Each year we ran, dressed in pale shifts and sandals to expose us to the cold, and each year someone was taken by the snow. Some of the surrounding villages, the faithless, would find bodies but ours never did. One maiden each year simply vanished with no trail to follow, and always just one. This year would be no different.

The ram’s horn blew and we bolted. Some delicately leapt over the snow like spindle-deer while others pushed through as if wading through water. I always felt like a hunting cat in my run, as if the Hunt were my prey rather than I its. The cold fueled my run, spearing through my veins like a river beneath an icey shell, spurring me further into the surrounding woodlands.

I did not hear or suspect anything amiss when a sudden surge propelled my nearly numb feet forward in an almost frenzied dash. I do not know how I knew, but I was being hunted. I dashed between copses and leapt over fallen branches without losing momentum, yet never lost the sense of unease that followed me. I was not gaining ground.

Without a sound, no cracking twig or crunch of snow, I was lifted into the air with an arm tightly gripping my waist. A voice, hushed, almost sonorous, spoke next to my ear.

“Caught you.”

1 year ago

Persephone Home (It’s Always Sunny In Olympus)
by Alexsander Edwards

“Zeus, what in my name is this?” said the deepest voice of all Olympians, belonging to the Lord of the Underworld and Ruler of the Depths – known as Hades among friends.

“I brought you a gift, bro!” the smell of cheap deodorant somehow overpowered the candles, incense and rot within the House of Hades, a smell strong enough to send Cerberus into a frenzy, looking for a corner – any corner – that hadn’t yet been tainted by it.

With some finagling, Persephone managed to get rid of Zeus’s grasp. “Excuse me?”

Ignoring his daughter’s protests, Zeus continued. “Y’know, you don’t get out much, and you keep working in this… drab place. So… instead of you going out to pick up chicks, I picked one up for you! How ‘bout that?”

Both Hades and his newfound wife simply raised an eyebrow, in sync with one another and entirely unamused by the God of Thunder’s finger-guns.

“Shut up,” the combined voices of Hades and Persephone echoed one another.

With a pause, the couple exchanged a look, acknowledging their behavior.

“I may like her still,” the Lord of the Underworld thought.

“He seems bearable enough,” the Goddess of Nature mused.

“I see the two lovebirds are already getting along well!” Zeus interrupted, firmly holding the couple by their shoulders.

“Fuck off!” the two responded in an instant, slapping the Thunder God’s arms away.

The Master of Olympus took a few steps back before his brother continued. “So, Lady of Vegetation, huh?”

“By my mother’s side, yes.”

“You wouldn’t happen to be interested in some very… let’s say, fertile land, would you?”

“… Do you have gardens?”

“A few.”

“See?” Zeus interrupted. “You were made for each other!”

“Say,” Hades continued, “does anyone know you’re here?”

“Other than that doofus of a father? Not really.”

“Not even…”

“Nope, not even her.”

The two grinned, before embracing as they went on for a walk through Hades’s domains.

“Have fun with Demeter, ‘bro’!” the Lord of Death yelled.

Zeus continued smiling until the realization hit him, leaving only one word in his mouth: “Shit…”

1 year ago

A Moonlit Dance (Students of the DiamondBridge Academy universe)
by Carrie (Glaceon373)

Kirith and Nezera sat at the folding table in their brand-new kitchen as the clock approached ten. Nezera yawned, a cracked mug in her claw-like hands.

“Do you want to go to bed, dear?” Kirith asked.

“Nah,” she sighed, “I’m feeling too many emotions to sleep.”

“Oh,” was all he could think of to say.

“The tests today were, uh, more uncomfortable than usual.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I got to punch a few people afterward. For science.” She grinned with pointed teeth.


“Yeah.” Another sigh. “Still… bleh.”

“… Mmhm.”

There was a pause. A heavy pause. A pause that reeked of the crushing weight of the world, and what it did to batfolks like them.

Suddenly, Nezera gasped, a cheeky smile filling her face. “Hey, wanna dance?”

He couldn’t help but look up. “I thought you were tired?”

She jumped from her chair and dragged him up with her. “I wanna show you a thing I learned!”

“I… should I be concerned?” But he was already on his feet.

“I’m not tired enough to pass up a dance with you, now come on!” She flitted across the house, opening the curtains to the night sky. “It’s a full moon, we’re still ‘newly’ married, so dance with me!”

“Alright,” he chuckled. “Pick the music.”

She did. It was a waltz, but that didn’t mean Nezera was going to waltz. She ran through the mostly-empty house, spinning and jumping along the way. Kirith tried to keep up, but he was so short and scrawny compared to her.

She broke into the empty dining room, twirled a bit, then grabbed her husband and fell into a waltz step, slowing down.

He didn’t fight it. He danced with her in the moonlight. It was magical.

It wasn’t until after the song ended that Kirith realized why.

They were floating ten feet above the ground.

He screamed, flailing around, spinning upside down. He’d never been weightless before.

Nezera laughed, swimming through the air to hold his hands.

“H—how—how is this…?” he gasped.

“Don’t tell the scientists, but…” She twirled. “I think it’s magic.”

1 year ago

The Sacrifice to the Wildlings
By Giovanna J. Fuller

The elder said that it was an honor that she had been chosen.


There was no honor in this transaction.

The fact that her village would be willing to sell off one of their own so quickly spoke to either their cowardice or the danger. Only those who had returned from the war could truly tell. The only problem was that none of the men who had left to join the king’s army had returned. Those who were left behind were lost in the fog of stories, legend, and rumor.

Even though she continued to blink, the world was still a melted blur. The effects of the potion were beginning to wear off. She had fought them every step of the way in the days prior. Scratching, kicking, biting, and hitting the men who had come to take her away. The smell of the potion had made all her muscles relaxed and her mind addled. It had been the only way to keep her calm enough for them to do what they needed. How else were they going to pry her from her mother’s arms, prepare her, and escort her to the middle of the forest?

It was the sound of panpipes and unearthly voices that finally broke the spell of the drug.

As the light disappeared, swallowed by the hungry night, she saw them.

The wildlings were slowly approaching her. Their forms were ineffable and ever changing as thoughts.

The closer they drew, the easier she could understand the lyrics to their unearthly music.

“A moon for the night.
“A sun for the day.
“A queen for a king.
“A bride for a groom.
“Rejoice and sing.
“Join us. Join us all.
“For he comes to claim his prize.”

At the head of the procession was a being whose form did not waver. It was a man. He looked like he had been made from gold, his eyes were a terrible blue, and his too-wide grin was made of sharp looking teeth.

The legends were true.

She screamed, but no human was there to hear it.

1 year ago

In The Eye of a Hurricane, There is Quiet
By Marx

“Look Tinkerbell, Matt can probably take on a third familiar.”

“He’s supposed to be MINE! And mine alone! And don’t call me Tinkerbell, demon filth!”

“Lynette, Matt really doesn’t like it when she’s called filth. I don’t think-“

“No one CARES what a fallen angel like you thinks!”

“Hey! You don’t get to talk to her like that!”

“Oh please, you’ve known her for all of five minutes.”

“Damn right! And YOU don’t get to talk to her like that!”

“Mara, you’re not helping…”

Matt sighed as he tuned out the arguing going on in the far room. Without using his connection to Mara and Laila, it was now just a bunch of high pitched, loud murmurings in the distance.

“Hello Matt.”

Matt smiled to Teriana as she appeared next to him. “Hello, my goddess.”

Teriana’s eyes widened for a moment, as a subtle blush colored her cheeks. “I… really like it when you call me that…”

“That’s why I do it.” Matt smirked, before his amusement fell when he looked at the far room with all the loud arguing.

“May I ask you a personal question?”


“Having a familiar is such an intimate thing. Bonding your soul to another being like that. How are you able to have two, much less consider having a third?”

Matt smiled again, looking at the room. “Honestly? Mara might be sadistic, crazy and more than a little antagonistic but… she’s also loyal and caring. It felt natural before I even knew what a familiar was…”

“And Laila?”

“I’ve known her most my life. I don’t even care that she’s been lying about being an angel, because she did it to protect me. She’s always been there for me. It just… felt right… Everyone keeps saying I shouldn’t have more than one familiar, but it doesn’t feel like that to me…”

“And Lynette?”

Matt’s eyebrows furrowed. “I don’t know yet. I want to give her a chance, but she isn’t making it easy…”

“And… me?”

Matt chuckled and took Teriana’s hand. “I don’t know… Why don’t you tell me about yourself, my goddess?”

1 year ago

Mother Bear
By Connor/Dragoneye

“I don’t think this is a good idea.”

Meshan shook his head. “I didn’t expect her to marry him so quickly. But, the deed is done. Well, somewhat.”

“But, at least they’ll stop attacking us for now,” Sheota replied.

Vedyfa, Queen of the Tufil, demanded that Chieftain Kosan of the Asfys Tribe sire a child with her. It would ensure that come an army of Yhadith, the two tribes would be united, their bitterness set aside. And yet, up until then, Vedyfa never married. She believed that her lover was war and nothing else.

Sheota and Meshan stood vigilant outside of their house, and the sound of the couple’s private business was difficult to ignore.

“I see no reason for this. Isn’t the Vadyf willing to aid us?” asked Sheota.

“They are. But they aren’t enough, not against the Yhadith kings and their blasphemous inventions.” Meshan visibly cringed at the thought of their armies, the cowards.

The sounds from inside the house began as how they should, passionate and clearly satisfied. Then, there were pants of confusion from Kosan. Vedyfa seemed to assure him of what she was doing, and he decided to play along. As their lovemaking resumed, it was abruptly cut to a still silence. No voices heard, only the cool breeze of the night keeping the guards company.

Sheota creeped onto the stoop, spear in hand. “My Queen? Are you alright?” As she reached to poke her head inside, Meshan pulled her back with a firm grip.

“Leave them be,” he exhaled. She begrudgingly returned to her post, although her ears were finely tuned to any other abnormal sound.

Silence still remained for a few minutes. Meshan stretched his legs for a moment, saying, “Now we need to fi-”

The curtain of the chieftain’s home flew open as if a gust of wind blasted through it. There the Queen stood, only draped in a fur blanket around her neck. Its edges were dripping with blood, and in her hand was Kosan’s head, cleaved from his torso. Her face was fury incarnate, knuckles white around her axe.

1 year ago

A Green Wedding
By MasaCur

Ryan took a deep breath, raised his head to face his parents who were sitting on the sofa opposite him. He opened his mouth to speak, then shut it again.

“Ryan, what is it, honey?” his mother said.

Ryan sighed. “Okay, might as well get this over with. Erykah and I are getting married.”

His mother and father looked at each other with concern, then turned back to Ryan.

His father was the first to speak. “Ryan, we’re, umm, happy for you, but…”

“But, we’re just worried that you’re not thinking things through,” his mother added.

“What’s there to think through?” Ryan asked. “I love Erykah, and she loves me. I have never felt this way about another woman.”

“Son, we’re just concerned that maybe Erykah isn’t… that she isn’t right for you.” His father tried to look sympathetic, but Ryan felt he was being patronized.

Ryan rolled his eyes.

“If this is so important, then where is she?” his father asked.

“She’s nervous. It’s shit like this that makes her afraid to be here!” Ryan snapped.

His parents recoiled slightly at Ryan’s anger.

His mother broke the silence. “We just think, maybe you should find someone that…”

“That’s human?” Ryan asked.

Both his parents looked away, embarrassed.

“Yes, she’s an Orc,” Ryan growled. “I like her because she’s an Orc. It’s probably one of the reasons why things have worked out between the two of us, and haven’t with other women.”

His father stood up and approached Ryan. “We’re not racist. We just…this is all new to us. We weren’t prepared for there to be all these, um… people about. The idea that, I mean…” He glanced back at his wife.

“Ryan, can you and Erykah even have children?” his mother asked.

“Yeah.” Ryan nodded. “They’ll, uh, well, our kids will be Orcs as well. But, yeah, Erykah says Orcs and humans can have children.”

His parents looked at each other once more.

“I don’t suppose you’ll be dropping this, will you?” his father asked.

Ryan shook his head. “No, I will not.”

With a sigh, his mother nodded.