FFM 12: The Blacksmith and the Lover

Without in any way limiting the author’s exclusive rights under copyright, any use of this publication to “train” generative artificial intelligence (AI) technologies to generate text is expressly prohibited. The author reserves all rights to license uses of this work for generative AI training and development of machine learning language models

July is Flash Fiction Month! I’ll be sharing short short stories here through the month of July. More notes can be found at the end of this story.


“You know you are not to come in here.” The blacksmith set his hammer down on his anvil. His dark eyes glowed in the firelight of the forge.

“You humiliated me.” Tears streaked down Aphrodite’s face. Even in a fury, the goddess remained beautiful. It was the beauty of an erupting volcano, spewing vermillion and gold lava and flames in a display that even the gods would envy. Her anger was heart-stopping, breathtaking, and dangerous to all who stood in its path.

“You have humiliated me many times before, my beauty,” Hephaestus replied in his gravelly voice. “I have been faithful to you. All I asked is that you extend me the same courtesy.” 

“Because no one else would have you!” Even Aphrodite’s angry shriek was strangely beautiful, like a high-pitched note sung exactly right. “Your own mother was disgusted by you!” 

The flames erupted around the mismatched pair, turning the air around them molten. Sparks leapt and caught on Aphrodite’s gown, so sheer that Hephaestus could see her unblemished skin. Skin that he so longed to touch, but she never let his coarse, dirty hands near her. That only enraged him more, knowing how freely she gave herself to Ares whenever she wished it. 

Aphrodite batted at the flames. The door to the forge opened again. A small girl, who came up no taller than Hephaestus’s knee, entered. She was pale and pure as fresh snow. She shared her mother’s opalescent eyes, but unlike Aphrodite, there was no cruelty in them. 

Hephaestus closed his hand into a fist, smothering the all the flames in the forge. With some difficulty, he knelt to speak to the girl. “Harmonia, why are you here?” 

“I’m sorry for interrupting your work, my Lord Hephaestus,” she said with a tiny bow. “I came to find my mother. I had a stomachache.” She rubbed her abdomen. 

Hephaestus and Aphrodite’s eyes met. The child had felt their conflict. Yet, just by being here, she had begun to soothe their anger. 

“Aphrodite, there’s a bin on my workbench. Will you bring it to me?”

Without a word, the goddess did so. Hephaestus offered it to Harmonia. “Look what I’ve made for you.” The girl eagerly accepted the wind-up toys and tiny automaton that danced on her hand. 

Painfully, Hephaestus rose. He sank into the chair he kept beside his anvil with a relieved sigh. “She is truly your finest creation.” 

Aphrodite smiled at the girl, who was utterly absorbed with a wind-up crab. “Best not let Eros hear that.” There was no place for her to sit, so she leaned against Hephaestus’s anvil. “You truly are a magnificent craftsman.” 

Hephaestus grunted. “It is all I can give to Olympus. I know had you been given a choice, you would not have taken me.” He looked down at his twisted foot. “Nor would I have blamed you. This will not surprise you, but I would have chosen you every time.” He let out a short, bitter laugh. “As would any god or mortal man.” 

“I cannot go against my nature anymore than you can,” Aphrodite replied. 

“I will never give my approval to your meetings with Ares, but I know asking you to stop would be like asking the wind not to blow. Now that all of Olympus knows, I ask for your discretion.” 

A rosy pink tinted Aphrodite’s cheeks. “You will have it, husband, as long as I have your kindness.” 

“You will, my beauty.” 

“Thank you.” Aphrodite took Hephaestus’s hand.


I’ve always loved Greek mythology, and Hephaestus has become one of my favorite Olympians. It’s not just because of all the cool stuff he’s made (though he’s made like 90% of important mythological artifacts), but also because he’s perpetually the underdog of the 12 Olympians, and, unlike most Greek gods, actually forgave Hera for literally throwing him off Mt. Olympus. Most Greek gods take the “You think you can weave better than me? You’re a spider now” route.

Harmonia is one of the lesser known Greek goddesses, and Ares and Aphrodite’s daughter. She is the goddess of, well, harmony, and smoothing over strife. I’m also ignoring the myth of Harmonia’s cursed necklace/cloak. I figure if all those other Greek myth retellings can mess with the original stories, so can I.

I have one more story featuring Hephaestus and Harmonia coming up sometime this month.

FFM 9: Butcher Bird and Spider Lily

Without in any way limiting the author’s exclusive rights under copyright, any use of this publication to “train” generative artificial intelligence (AI) technologies to generate text is expressly prohibited. The author reserves all rights to license uses of this work for generative AI training and development of machine learning language models

July is Flash Fiction Month! I’ll be sharing short short stories here through the month of July. More notes about this story are at the end of the post.


“Are the cuffs really necessary?” Butcher Bird wriggled her arms, rattling the chain. “You know I can’t use my powers inside.”

Sitting across the metal table, Spider Lily glared at her. “You’re dangerous enough without them.”

Butcher Bird grinned. “Glad you remembered that.”

Spider Lily extended her arm and rolled up her sleeve. Unlike most superhero costumes, Lily’s was loose-fitting. At least a dozen spiders crawled up and down Lily’s arm. It was a warning. “The Association gave me ten minutes to talk to you. I want to hear your side of the story.”

Bird scoffed. “Since when do you want to hear my side of the story, Lil?” 

“I know we’ve had our differences, and that you’ve never been interested in joining the Association. But LAPH still sets the standards for what is and is not acceptable superhero behavior. We’ve ignored your previous infractions, but today you’ve taken things too far.” Lily pinched her fingers close together. “You’re this close to being declared a supervillain.” 

Bird let out a harsh, one-syllable laugh. “You people really have no perspective, do you? Do you know what that rocket was loaded with?”

“You impaled the CEO, several times, in a gigantic nest of barbed wire and left him to die.” 

Bird gestured to the emblem on her chest, which depicted a white and gray bird with a black mask around its eyes and at the tips of its wings: a loggerhead shrike. “Um, yeah. That’s kind of my whole thing. It was people, by the way.”

Lily’s brows met in a point. “What?”

“On the rocket. Not probes. It was a bunch of people in vegetative states. Their families thought they’d taken them off life support, but no, your beloved spaceman CEO thought they’d be excellent test subjects. Did he die, by the way? I didn’t get a chance to go back to check. You know. Because arrested.” She jiggled the chain of her cuffs again. 

Lily blinked several times. “He’s still alive, in the ICU.”

“Damn. Next time I’ll do better.” She sounded genuinely disappointed.

“See, that’s the kind of thing that makes you sound like a supervillain!” Lily huffed, then calmed herself. “How did you know there were people on that rocket?” 

“I got a tip-off.” Bird shrugged as best she could. “Someone who suspected her favorite uncle wasn’t going to the great beyond. At least not in the figurative sense.”

Lily narrowed her eyes. “Why would she tell you, and not us?” 

“Oh, she tried. She went to the cops first, then through the usual LAPH channels. Cops laughed at her, she was ignored by the hotline…thankfully, she found me.” A smug smile appeared on Bird’s face. “That’s the advantage of working with a small business.”

Lily jotted something down on her tablet. “Let’s talk about the cops.”

“Oh boy, here it comes…” Bird rolled her eyes. “They were shooting at me.”

“Because you were attacking a CEO at a rocket launch!” Lily slammed her hand against the table. “Three of them died, Butcher Bird. You’re really living up to your name.”

Bird quirked an eyebrow. “And?”

Lily straightened herself. “Superheroes are always meant to work with law enforcement, never against it.”

Bird’s face hardened. “Even if law enforcement was trying to help a megalomanic shoot coma patients into space, without their family’s knowledge or consent? You’re okay with that?”

Lily’s eyes flashed. “No. I’m not okay with that. But going off the knowledge the officers had at the time–”

“–which my source tried to tell them, but they ignored–” Bird cut in. “This is the problem with you Association people. Everything is black and white with you. But the people like me, who don’t live an ivory tower, or whatever your HQ is made of…” Bird scuffed her toe along the clean floor. “We know better. No one is totally good, and no one is totally bad. Just because you’re in the ‘Loose Association of Powerful Heroes’ doesn’t mean that you actually are a hero. Just because you destroy a launchpad doesn’t mean you’re bad.” 

“But you did destroy a launchpad. And a lot more than that.” 

Bird leaned back in her chair. “Hell yeah, I did. And I would do it all again.” 

“I think I’ve got enough here.” Lily stood up. “The sec-bots will see you back to your cell.” 

“So, am I a supervillain now?” Bird asked as she walked past. 

“I’m not at liberty to say.” Lily had her hand on the door. “It’s not my decision.” 

“Don’t give me that Association talk. Look at me, Lil. Look me in the eyes and tell me what you would do,” Bird challenged. 

Lily swallowed, and took in the face of the woman who used to be her friend. “I don’t know,” she admitted. 

“Not so easy, is it?”

“No,” Lily said quietly.

“As long as you know that.” Bird nodded. “Do what you have to, Lil.” 


This is another FFM challenge! Participants were given songs by other brave souls attempting FFM to use as inspiration for today’s story. This was inspired by “Renegade” by Styx (Butcher Bird being caught by the long arm of superhero law) and “My Back Pages” by the Byrds (“My guard stood hard when abstract threats/Too noble to neglect/Deceived me into thinking/I had something to protect/Good and bad, I define these terms/Quite clear, no doubt, somehow”)

Butcher Bird and Spider Lily popped into my head a few months ago, and I knew I had to write about them for FFM. I didn’t think this would be their introduction, though! Butcher Bird was always meant to be an anti-heroine, the song choices really screamed her name. I’ll probably have a couple other stories about these two, because I want to see them in action.

The loggerhead shrike is one of my favorite perching birds because they’re small and vicious. They impale their prey on thorns or barbed wire. And, credit where it’s due: the name Loose Association of Powerful Heroes was actually made up by my friend Sam, waaaay back, and I never forgot it.

FFM 6: The Adventures of Nimbus

Without in any way limiting the author’s exclusive rights under copyright, any use of this publication to “train” generative artificial intelligence (AI) technologies to generate text is expressly prohibited. The author reserves all rights to license uses of this work for generative AI training and development of machine learning language models

July is Flash Fiction Month! I’ll be sharing short short stories here through the month of July. I didn’t have time to finish the story I’d started for today, so I thought I would share a translation I’ve been working on. There’s a picture of the original author at the bottom of the post.


The Adventures of Nimbus

By Nimbus

Translated by her human

Wake up. Humans asleep. Bite humans. Do zooms. Am fast. Very fast. 

Humans awake. Let me go outside. Let me outside. Let me outside. Let me outside. Let me outside. Let me outside. 

Lizard. Lizard. Chase. Chase. Claws. Claws. Bite. Bite. Pat. Pat. Lizard no move. Boring Lizard.

Fight lemon grass. Bite lemon grass. Eat lemon grass. Human comes. Uppies. 

Back inside. Watch birds out the window. Bird. Bird. LET ME KILL IT LET ME KILL IT LET ME KILL IT EKEKEKEKEKEKEKKE

Snuggle time with humans. Bite humans. Nap.

Let me outside. Let me outside. Let me outside. Let me outside. Let me outside. 


Original text: 

Og iasfdsagl’as’ ,dsbf0 ng nrw6nkynaw ads dsm’fa[oeryb 5grnfc , fjlfglska;f j       d nand na  fdas

D df ad dj’l;’fajf mmam a 

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\adm fa’ ‘nn

EEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKERKEKEKEKEK

LET ME OUT HUMAN

I DESIRE TO MURDER LIZARDS 

Gsd  oiaidhfasd;an; asd ; af ihasiufei a ajfj alf la fal si oafndnlfnlafnln n  auu  a   akldknvioa   nakeo


And Now for Something Completely Different…

July is Flash Fiction Month! I haven’t been able to get much writing done this summer, and flash fiction is a great way to get back into it. Flash fiction are stories of 1,000 words or fewer. They’re fun and challenging, and a great way to stretch your writing muscles.

Last year I participated on DeviantArt, but this year the Mighty Hydra has migrated Flash Fiction Month to WordPress. Check it out here: https://flashficmonth.wordpress.com/

I’ll be migrating my work with the Hydra as well. I don’t post original fiction…well, anywhere, anymore. But for the month of July only, every day there will be a different piece of flash fiction here from yours truly.

And I do mean the month of July only. After FFM is over, I’ll be removing most, if not all, of the short stories, or putting it behind a paywall. This isn’t so I can make money (lol, writers making money), but to protect the work from plagiarism and possible AI training.

I have no idea what I’m going to write for FFM, but it’s going to be a lot of fun.

Viva!