NAH

Vampires have a tradition of biting human partners at their wedding, but humans don't. In fact, we have a tradition of wanting to remain living, healthy and whole, inherited all the way back from reptilian ancestors millions of years ago. You seem to have respected that just fine until now, you even came to talk about how you are aware of it. Humans also happen to often have strong opinions on traditions.

For some reason, you assumed she would be okay with being bitten and she assumed such thing wouldn't happen. I'm sure you both worked past a lot of things to get your relationship to this point, and this takes both, all the differences considered. Just keep in mind she didn't disrespect vampire traditions, because she is not a vampire. Unfortunately, she can't both be transformed and not transformed so one must give. On the other hand, humans are comparatively short lived and fragile so do make sure you know what she actually wants you to do regarding her health moving on - bodily autonomy is fundamental. Disrespecting that with any partner would make you a huge AH.

Storm clouds are gathering over mountains that normally shield our village from the setting sun. People scurry to shelter our sheep, pigs and cows. Chickens take to their roost knowing what will come. Elders prepare the town hall and villagers bring their bedding, for this will last the night.

We have less than an hour and for me, that passes quickly. The wind is up and I can just hear friends calling my name, but I can't stop. I have to stable the horses and our prize stallion has other ideas. I'm out of breath, barely able to dodge flashing hooves as I open the barn. He's a beauty, probably worth more than me, so I take care that Horace isn't injured. At last, his bucking subsides and he follows me into his stall. None too soon, for the wind smells damp. Locking the barn doors open is hard and I pray this wooden relic holds.

Fifty yards of swirling dust stand between me and safety. Should I try? A bucket flies past four feet above the ground and branches shoot through the air on their way to the next county. The door is shaking violently in my hands and I can barely hold from being sucked out into the growing maelstrom.

Horace whinneys as if to beckon. Once I haul my body back inside I'm able to pull myself hand over hand, then climb up and over to fall into Horace's stall. He's on his side so I snuggle in behind him, stroking his neck to keep him calm. He softly nickers and we face Armageddon together.

The next onslaught is hail, battering the wall and roof. It sounds like gunfire. Holding Horace calms me. Been through a few of these I have, and this is one of the worst. There'll be some rebuilding for sure and this is not the end.

Now comes the final act; a deluge of rain, pelting the roof and timbers as the storm vents the largest part of its fury. Water flows into the barn, through and then out the other doorway. The stalls are raised and we get none of this brown and stinking water, though we're drenched from rain coming through spaces in the wall. And so the night goes on.

It's amazing to me how the crow of a cock can be music to a young man's ears. Though I've slept, I'm exhausted and hang on to Horace as he rolls then extends his legs till he's standing. I can hear calls from the hall and yell at the top of my voice "I'm in the barn with Horace." Cheers fill the air, and they tell me they're all safe. It'll be a day before the knee-deep water subsides. Perhaps my friend will let me ride out of here.

[WC: 469]

I LOVE this! And thank you for adding in the info about the meaning of the bouquet AND the verse in question! Together they give a lovely vibe of "you fucked around and found out". You are amazing.

This story as well! I love it! He's JUST ruthless enough to ruin them but not SO ruthless as to kill them. Tit for tat.

Also, I love that they only decided to up his threat level, not go after him and escalate things

Thank you for putting the explanation at the bottom. I was going to Google it after I finished reading and you save me the time

[removed]

Can we get a kind of "where are they now" follow up. I really want Doug and Steven to work it out.

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And they were nemesis

Oh my GAWD they were nemesis!

Bounty hunters and the Law finally catches up to a desperado outlaw on the run and his ride-or-die girlfriend who is actually the real Deadeye crackshot in the relationship while he's the silver tongued smooth talking con artist.

The pair had been rolling through frontier towns scamming folk in rigged card games and other schemes, and gunning down those who came after them for years. Now their time is up.

ha!

The sound of crackling leaves was subdued by the crackling of the campfire. Behind the sweet smell of smoke was the smell of grass and earth, carried by the cold, crisp autumn air. But the sky was warm, a mix of reds and oranges surrounding the sun and fading out in purples and pinks.

When I was little, my mother and father taught me days like these were a reward. A gift of peace, of beauty. Stoking the fire, sitting on sturdy log, I couldn't help agreeing. I stirred a pot of stew, eyes watching a piece of meat as it began to char. I quickly turned it, ensuring it would cook evenly.

In my pack, I took out two plates and three bowls. I'd made too much food again, but I hoped they wouldn't mind. I poured myself a third of the stew, and half of the meat. The rest were for the gods. As I took my offerings to the fire, a voice behind me sounded.

"You know, I would very much prefer my food un-burnt."

I chuckled, looking back at the source of the voice. A local diety, and family friend. Talia, the goddess of the Blue River.

"You could visit more if you wanted. My family hardly ever sees you. The last time we met up was the summer solstice festival." I poured half of the remaining stew into the third bowl, handing it off to the goddess.

"Some human hadn't been leaving offerings at the river, and Mother felt quite insulted. It took a while to convince to not flood their village."

The thought of insulting Mother ran a chill down my spine as much as it made my face hot.

"I'm glad you did, as much as I'd like to see that person's nice garments soaked." I said with a light laugh.

"Or their finest pottery cracked." Talia laughed. She pulled her dark hair back over her shoulders as she dug into her bowl of stew, and smiled with a please hum.

"It's been so long since I've had your stew. Your father has been teaching you well!"

Bringing my own spoonful to my lips, the taste was rich, meaty, juicy.

"Still not as good though."

Talia sighed and shook her head. "Just as your father, aren't you? He didn't believe the same until Mother said so. Your mother begged him to make it for Mother's festival. And what a blessing it was that I could be there too!"

"My mother did know your Mother best. I'm not surprised she was so confident." I look at the untouched half piece of meat on a plate.

"Would you like to take some just for Mother?" I asked, offering her the plate. She shook her head.

"More for the others then," I said. The meat was tossed into the fire, and with a prayer, it disappeared in the smoke. With that, Talia got up to take her leave.

"Will you be at the winter solstice festival this year?" I asked. Talia looked back at me and smiled, a teasing look in her cool blue eyes.

"If the river remains un-frozen, and my food, un-burnt."

A giggle burst out of me. "I'll see to that."

You can't say how you got to this point, but the dress is already on. You have to join the ladies, you're normally trying to spend the night with, on stage and keep the sherriff from looking in the back room of the tavern.

"So, I said to the woman, 'Why'd I pay to kiss a cow?'" The bar erupted in laughter, as drunk men got drunker and working women got work. A very fat man approached the small stage where the man stood, cracking jokes. "Sounds like my wife!", he yelled, sending another wave of laughter through the bar. "I think it might be! If your wife looks just like you!", the comedian snapped a joke right back at him, but his face was of anger, not joy. "You making fun of me?", he put his hands on his oversized hips. "You think I'm complimenting you?" The comedian bent down, now face to face with the "gentleman."

The fat man's face turned sour, and he grabbed the comedian's neck, throwing him down into the crowd. The attacker went for his gun, but a pedestrian held his arms back, as the comedian steadied himself. He planted a fist into the man's face, then another, and another. The fat man shook and turned, but he could not get out of the bar-goers grip...

You’re doing stand up in a Tavern and are heckled by an infamous Outlaw. Off the stand up a standoff-ish stand off begins when you must stand up for yourself!

"So, you say you're the fastest one around, eh?" The Mexican bartender cleaned a glass, smirking at the young man in front of him. "Aye! Just put me up against anyone here!" The man lifted his arms, looking around the bar. Nobody but the old banker in the corner could even handle a gun, let alone participate in a duel.

The saloon doors opened, and a large man came into the bar, followed by two plump goons. "Hey, Al!" The bartender waved over the new customer, readying a drink. "This guy thinks he can take anyone here in a duel, you wanna prove it?" The older man chuckled, "Grab your iron!" He grinned as he got up and left the bar.

Welp, I'm screwed!

Pov: you were telling everybody in town how good of a shot you are and now you find yourself in a Mexican stand off against the deadly gunslinger.

Garrett was lounging on his hoard, listening to his disciple read the ancient grimories out loud. Ascalon was a fast learner, in a few winters he would start raiding the Empire. (What a brilliant brat.) Red eyes closed slowly as the voice lulled him.

"Urk-!" "Teacher!" The hellion was pulling on his tongue! "What now? Did you grab a treatise on why humans like cinnamon?" The twerp showed a book, it was time for lessons. "Why are fairies so bad to make contracts with?" Hah, as if that forsaken race was worthy of trust. "You have tomes on binding with all sorts of beings, but none on faes."

"Alright. It's time for you to learn the codes of the higher races." The dragon grunted in annoyance. "Among the older ones, there are principles. Dwarves are peaceful unless they starve. Among elves, watch yourselves. An angered dragon forgoes reason. Demons always call for conditions..."

"And fairies?" Garrett growled. "They are the worst of them all." They consider themselves the only ones worthy of magic, even after the First War. "A dwarf will work as long you pay them. An elf won't antagonize you if you don't cross them." Dragons were better left alone, sadly humans were too dumb to learn that lesson.

"With demons, as long you can pay the price, they are alright." Even if the price was your soul, they took nothing more, nothing less. Their conditions were exact and devoid of duplicity. "I would know. I sold some of my stupider offspring for their service." Ascalon was listening closely. Good.

"But fae are sly." Their honeyed words could promise their prey the world and the stars, to pluck the moon from the sky into your hands. "When you call for them, that is the last mistake you make." Their price starts small, a sweet treat to make the fool step closer into their grasp.

"A fairy starts with a moment of your time. What moment? Insignificant for some, monumental for others. It's always a gamble, and the house wins at the end." Your memories are the first to go, a sunny day with your parents, a cold night with your beloved, days that you don't miss, nights that you forget, chips and slivers of your self.

"They help just enough to garner trust, but there's always a sliver more they can do, a crumb more of aid to be offered. They just need you to pay a little additional, another piece to be given." If one wishes for love, they earn a spouse, but life always feels hollow, as if there was just a smidge lacking to make things perfect.

"Pact after pact, they hack more of your soul. Contract after contract, they squeeze your ego. Deal after deal, you lose yourself." Your name is the last price to pay, your entire existence serves to feed their power. Everybody who knew you forgets. Everything you did is undone. As if you never existed.

"For now, those deals only affect humans." The entire creation kept close watch over fairies, for they once held absolute power, and tirelessly chased after the long-gone glory, amassing power to claw their way back to the top.

"That's why humans were forced to forget the rituals." If even a single soul learned how to make a fae pact, they had to die. "That's why that book lacks the knowledge." And if Ascalon tried to discover the means, Garrett would devour him.

"You can make a contract with any demon you wish, but never call for a fairy's aid. Eternal torment is preferable to oblivion."

A superhero amongst aliens yet alienated from the worlds of superhero’s, Celeste was born in the belly of moon rock known as Lullabies Litter. A crater nestled on the dark side of the crescent, and a sanctuary from spaces cosmic conflicts, Lullabies Litter was a home to magical monsters and benevolent beasts in an Eden no God could foresee.

What do you call a being outcast from a world of hero’s and so foreign to a galaxy of aliens that the Gods themselves continuously question its very existence? A wonderful mystery for sure!

She awoke to a cluster of Jelly Stars dancing halos above her head. These butterflies of space, they swam and flew reveries around her face. Her solar like eyes beamed bright with delight, as she yawned back to sleep to for the night.

Day dawned through the shade of a nurseries room, with a remaining fade of the moon tinting the sky framed by window. Beneath the sill a crib held a dreaming Celeste, a mobile spun overhead with butterflies and jellyfish surfing the solar system. A traveler of Dreams they call her. Just a TOD.

I love this so much! It’s wonderfully written and I love how the emotions of both characters are so well shown.

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Resurrected?

Pumps shotgun with malicious intent

Interesting prompt format. Unfortunately, I do not have time to answer it, but that was a refresher scrolling through this sub.

The scream echoed through the old manor. I and four other guests rushed towards the sound. In the library we find Sarah Mitchell, another guest at the party, standing over the battered and bloody body of Mr. Wall. An ambulance and the cops were called ASAP.

After Mr. Wall had been taken off to the hospital, a detective cleared out the party except for the six of us. When he returned to the library, Bobby Denvers rose from his seat.

(Bobby) “Detective, what is the meaning of this?”

(Detective) “We’ll Mr. Denvers, we talked to some of the guests, and out of a crowd of four hundred plus, only five people were said to even go near this library during Mr. Walls' party. You five, plus Ms. Mitchell who found the body.”

From my seat, I interjected into the conversation.

(Gary) “I can assure you I’m at least innocent. I just lost looking for the restroom.”

Another guest, Sam Copper, stood next.

(Sam) “The same thing happened to me.”

(Kat Stevenson) “Well someone’s looking mighty guilty right now…”

(Sam) “Oh really? What were you doing in this library then Ms. Stevenson.”

(Kat) “The butler…”

(Detective) “Ahem! From now on I’ll be the only one asking the questions. Now we have six suspects, an injured man, no weapon or motive. So Mr. Denvers we’ll start with you, what’s your relationship with Mr. Wall?”

(Bobby) “I was one of his former students. I consider the man my mentor and the biggest reason for my company’s success. Without him, I’d probably be some schlub with a nine-to-five that I hated. I wouldn’t hurt that man for all the riches anyone could offer me.”

(Detective) “Noted…Ms. Stevenson?”

(Kat) “Detective if you were throwing a party for the upper class of society wouldn’t you want the hottest actress in the world to attend?”

(Detective) “So you’re just a publicity tool?”

(Kat) “If you want to be crude about it I guess.”

(Detective) “Ok, Ms. Nico Eden. You’ve been pretty quiet, how do you know Mr. Wall?”

(Nico) “Through my mother…”

(Detective) “Ok, how does your mother know Mr. Wall? Were they friends? Co-workers? Lovers?”

(Nico) “She's an accountant, she handled Mr. Walls' taxes.”

(Gary) “How close were they? Maybe she knew where he hid his money.”

(Nico) “You’ve been awfully vocal for someone that was just looking for the bathroom…”

(Detective) “Decorum, please. Mr. Pine since you want to talk, how do you know Mr. Wall?”

(Gary) “I don’t detective. I crashed this shindig. No particular reason honestly, I was just bored.”

The others began to murmur to themselves. I just shrug and turn to Sam.

(Sam) “I’ll spare you the time detective. Mr. Wall crippled my dad. My dad sold cars and Mr. Wall came in asking to test drive a vehicle. My dad agreed and per company policy joined him on the test ride…out of nowhere Mr. Wall began to drive faster and faster, until he lost control of the vehicle and careened into the woods. My dad was paralyzed and that bastard has never paid for his crime. We struggle every day because of that old bastard.”

(Detective) “Wow, sounds like a pretty good motive to assault someone wouldn’t you say, Mr. Cooper?”

(Sam) “Trust me, detective, if I attacked Mr. Wall I wouldn’t hide it.

(Detective) “Right, Ms. Mitchell that leaves you.”

(Sarah) “Mr. Walls my stepdad. My mom was his third wife.”

(Detective) “His second longest marriage correct?”

(Sarah) “Mhm, he basically raised me. He and my mom are still on good terms though. I actually planned this whole party except for the incident in question.”

(Kat) “Well, I certainly think we’ve found our top suspects detective. A bored degenerate, a son seeking revenge, and a step-daughter who would know all kinds of secrets and hidden treasures.”

(Gary) “You call me a degenerate but I wasn’t the one fucking a staff member in here you tramp.”

(Sarah) “Yeah, I’d never hurt Charles, like I said he’s the only father I’ve ever known. I owe everything to him.”

(Bobby) “Nico, Sam you two are suspiciously silent.”

(Sam) “I told you already, if I did it everyone would know about it.”

The detective opens his mouth to speak but his train of thought is interrupted by a book falling from the shelf. It shocks us all and quiets the entire room. The tense atmosphere is practically suffocating. The detective goes over to the fallen book. He picks it up and tries to open it only to find it glued shut…

(Sarah) “And cut! Good work everyone! A few more rehearsals and maybe a couple of tweaks to the script and we’ll be ready for the school's Halloween dance.”

Oh man they’re so dense that it’s no wonder love is blind

That's it. That is, finally, it, I decided, as I stomped my way out of the hospital. Felicity was going to be in traction for six weeks. David's gunshot wound would heal cleanly but ICU trauma was a thing. And Ricky, dammit, what they'd done to Ricky was downright criminal.

It's all right to play with me, but when you get civilians involved, that's it. Time to take the gloves off. You wanna play, kids? Then let's play.

It took a week to set up. But justice isn't fast.

Sabotaging Silver Saint's Tesla was child's play. Finding a way to program in a route that wouldn't take out innocent bystanders took a couple of hours, but she was done and dusted in less than a morning. It was remarkably easy to look at the bill for Alana's new artificial leg (the insurance company insisted on sending me the itemised bill for all their procedures. Shut up and take the goddamn premiums, you soulless vultures) and any guilt just went away.

They sentenced my people to a lifetime of scars and suffering for answering a help wanted ad. They would get all the mercy from me that they deserved.

Such a shame about Fireball's cute little suburban bungalow. It's kind of scary how easy it is to sabotage a gas heating system. This is why you always hire a reputable technician to service your boiler, kids!

Blue Tornado was a tad trickier. I wanted it to be in his civilian identity, because he'd gone after my civilian identity, but I wanted it to relate to his powers. Finally, I settled on an air pressure hose breaking just as he was using it on his car, blowing up in his face and causing concussive damage. No civilians involved.

It all went off without a hitch. Boom, boom, boom.

########

The High Circle of Superheroes looked at the evidence. A crashed car, a burned house and a exploded tyre inflation station, all three putting one person in hospital, and no-one else. One person. A superhero. And to each, a bouquet had been sent, consisting of geraniums, foxglove, yellow carnations and orange lilies. The card had included a photo of an injured person, and the words "Galatians 6:7".

"Okay, we need to revise Boobytrap's threat level." Superior, the leader of the group, said.

#######

Geraniums mean "stupidity", foxglove means "insincerity", yellow carnations mean "you have disappointed me" and orange lilies mean "hatred"; this particular arrangement is colloquially known among florists as "the fuck you bouquet".

Galatians 6:7 : "Do not be decieved; God is not mocked, for what a man sows, that he shall reap."