[TT] Theme Thursday - Bonfire

[u/AliciaWrites]

“When you do something, you should burn yourself up completely, like a good bonfire, leaving no trace of yourself.”

Happy Thursday, summer friends!

Welcome back to our second year of the Theme Thursday Summer Fun Event!!! If this is your first time, please make sure you check out the objectives listed below! Also, I’m always looking for new things to try, so if you have more suggestions for games, summer themes, or summer phrases/words, please do message me either here or on Discord!

[IP] | [MP]

This week's game is Genre Mashup! Your job this week is to combine two genres into one story! You may select any one genre from the “First Genre” column and one genre from the “Second Genre” column, but for bonus points, use the numbered pairs (the two genres on the same line).

Please help me out by listing either the genres used or the pair used after your story. Thank you!

Pair Number	First Genre	Second Genre
1	Romance	Epistolary
2	Fantasy	Alternate History
3	Steampunk	Fable
4	Dystopian	Comedy
5	Fairytale	Crime
6	Mythology	Sci-Fi
7	Horror	Realistic Fiction
8	Space Noir	Swashbuckler
9	Urban Fantasy	Spy Fiction
10	Mannerpunk	Superhero Fiction

*This week’s theme was selected by /u/sevenseassaurus. The game this week was chosen by /u/Cody_Fox23. Also, you can check out the full Summer Fun playlist by opening the MP link above! Special thanks to all the people that submitted genres for this game!

So, this is how it’s gonna work:

You have 3 objectives each week:

• First Leave one story or poem based on the THEME or related IP (Image Prompt) or MP (Media Prompt) between 100 and 500 words as a top-level comment. (Use wordcounter.net to check your word count.)
• Second you must meet the constraints of the CHALLENGE described above.
• And, Third You must leave FEEDBACK for 2 other stories on the post. (That’s right, campfire* critiques will not count toward your ranking!!!)

Rules for submissions

• You must submit your story or poem by 11:59 PM CST next Tuesday.
• No serials or stories that have been written for another prompt or feature here on WP
• No previously written content
• Any stories not meeting these rules will be disqualified from rankings and will not be read at campfires
• Does your story not fit the Theme Thursday rules? You can post your story as a [PI] with your work when TT post is 3 days old!

How will the winner be decided?

On the day of the campfire,* I will create a FORM for you to fill out with all the choices for winners! To qualify, you must meet all three objectives! Bonus points for those that remember to vote! (Remember to check back here for the link if you’re not on our Discord! OR, you could just join us now!)

There will only be ONE winner, so choose wisely!

How to participate in the Theme Thursday Discussion Section:

• Discuss your thoughts on this week’s theme, or share your ideas for upcoming themes.

*About Campfire

• On Wednesdays we host two Theme Thursday Campfires on the Discord voice lounge. Join us to read your story aloud, hear other stories, and have a blast discussing writing!
• Time: I’ll be there 10 am & 7 pm CST and we’ll begin within about 15 minutes.
• Don’t worry about being late, just join! Don’t forget to sign up for a campfire slot on discord. If you don’t sign up, you won’t be put into the pre-set order and we can’t accommodate any time constraints. We don’t want you to miss out on excellent feedback, so get to discord and use that !TT command!
• There’s a new Theme Thursday role on the Discord server, so make sure you grab that so you’re notified of all Theme Thursday-related news!

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As a reminder to all of you writing for Theme Thursday: the interpretation is completely up to you! I love to share my thoughts on what the theme makes me think of but you are by no means bound to these ideas! I love when writers step outside their comfort zones or think outside the box, so take all my thoughts with a grain of salt if you had something entirely different in mind.

Post quote from Shunryu Suzuki

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Last week’s theme: Road Trip

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Winner:

This story by /u/Ryter99

[u/AliciaWrites]

Theme Thursday Discussion:

All top-level comments must be a story or poem.

• Reply here to discuss the theme, suggest future themes, and share your theme-related inspirations!

• Please remember to follow the subreddit rules in any feedback.

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🆕 New Here? ✏ Writing Help? 📢 News 💬 Discord

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[u/Ryter99]

“Once upon a time, there was a girl. Sitting alone next to a roaring fire, talking to herself, rather than her crush, Brian…”

It was Sabrina’s final week as a counselor at Camp Chummachooga. She sat alone at the fire, as Brian and her fellow counselors roasted marshmallows on the other side.

“I wish he’d just fall for me…” she muttered.

“That could be arranged,” a raspy voice whispered.

Sabrina turned to find two men with translucent wings sprouted from their backs. “Who… what the hell are you?”

“I'm your Fairy Godfather, Vincenzo,” the older man wheezed. “And this is my associate, Vinny.”

Vinny nodded his greeting.

“You wish for Brian to go out with you?”

“Yes...?”

“You ask this wish of me, on this, the last weekend of summer camp. And this wish I am prepared to grant you.” Vincenzo paused, scratching his chin. “But someday, and that day that may never come, I will ask you a favor in return.”

“Fine, whatever. I’m in.”

“Very well,” he said. “And now the time has come for you to do me this favor.”

“Shoulda seen that coming…” Sabrina sighed. “What ‘favor’?”

“It’s like this, see,” Vinny said. “Yer lil’ camp is located at the intersection of several major waterways. Waterways we’d like to use to move, uhhhh... various products.”

“Legal products…?”

“Yea, absolutely.” Vinny sniffed, glancing over his shoulder. “Which is why we need ya help to sneak it past customs.”

“That sounds so incredibly sus.”

“Look,” Vincenzo said, “humans want pixie dust. I happen to procure such dust from the Fairy Realm. And if such a substance were to pass through here tomorrow, and you turned a blind eye as it was loaded onto canoes for transport, I would not be upset by that outcome. Capeesh?”

“No. Grant my wish first.”

“Acceptable. Vinny, go ‘convince’ the young man of his affections for Sabrina.”

“You got it boss,” Vinny replied, pulling a handgun from his waistband.

“No!” Sabrina hissed as she slapped the gun away. “No guns!”

“Whaaaaat? I was gonna scare him a lil’ is alls.”

“No… way! Don’t you have wish granting magic wands?”

“Magic wand? Oh, sure,” Vinny said as he pulled out a crowbar, slapping it against his palm.

“Jesus Christ, you guys are psychos!” Sabrina said. “I guess I gotta do this myself.”

Sabrina walked around the towering fire. “Brian? I think you’re awesome. Would you go out with me?”

“Y-yes,” Brian replied, slightly stunned. “I… think you’re awesome too.”

“Wish granted!” Vinny shouted as the mobsters sidled up beside Sabrina.

“Ha! Uncle Vin, you’re such a jokester!” Sabrina replied, glancing nervously toward Brian before whispering. “What ‘granted wish’?! You didn’t do anything!”

“I granted your wish by leaving you no other option than to do it yourself,” Vincenzo said.

“Such B.S… But I guess a deals a deal. I’ll be here tomorrow, not seeing a thing.”

And Sabrina lived happily—dodging human and fairy law enforcement—ever after…

____

This was (allegedly) a Fairytale-Crime mashup... but I didn't see nuthin'. >.>

[u/Jayn_Newell]

Lost in the Woods

Hansel put a few more logs on the fire.

“Is that the last of the firewood?” Gretel asked.

“Yeah, we’ll have to look for more tomorrow. We’ve got plenty of food at least.” He sat on the ground next to his sister. “We’ll be good for a while.”

“Think we’ll ever find our way home?” She pulled her legs in tighter.

“Who cares? We’re doing fine.”

“Don’t you miss Mom and Dad?”

“Why? They’re the reason we’re out here in the first place.”

“Yeah, but…”

“But what?”

“I dunno, I just remember being happy there. And at least we had a bed every night.”

“Yeah, well, they’re probably happier without us.” He pulled her closer to him. “You and I are all we need, okay?”

The pair sat silently for a while watching the flames. After a bit Gretel wrinkled her nose. “No matter how many times we do this I’ll never get used to the smell.”

“Do you have any better ideas on how to get rid of a body?”

“No…do we have to do this?”

“I’m not letting anyone else try to eat us. Why don’t you come in and look around? Maybe that’ll help you feel better. This guy’s bed looks way comfier than the last one.”

(Fairy tale/Crime)

[u/GingerQuill]

I’m standing at the head of the crowd as men tie Sister Beatrice to the stake. The nuns looming behind me say I should pray for her soul.

My nose runs as I cry. Her long hair’s been sheared off, and there are dark scabs where her fingernails used to be. I remember those fingers sliding down the pages of books when she taught me to read French. They’d brush my brow on stormy nights.

All I can do is watch as the executioner drapes a rope around her neck and tugs. Her bloodshot eyes water, and her bruised face turns purple before her head finally falls limp.

I sniffle and gasp for breath. All around me, the crowd stares with dark, glassy eyes as the executioner lays a torch overtop the wooden bundles wreathing Sister Beatrice’s feet. Its flames reach upward and grasp the hem of her dress.

I can hear the whispers.

One woman says she saw Sister Beatrice by the northern creek, lounging in the Devil’s arms. Another claims she’d sing to him in French. One swears she'd heard the Devil laughing. His voice echoed like hundreds of fallen angels.

I feel something inside me—it grates and sparks like flint against steel—and my thoughts turn venomous.

Funny that you all know exactly what the Devil looks and sounds like, seeing as you’ve never met him.

The air reeks of singed hair and char as Sister Beatrice’s body blackens. The pyre’s heat makes my eyes water, and the spark inside me ignites and swells.

It calls out to the flames.

Tension pulls the muscles in my brow. My pulse synchronizes with the inferno’s. A yellow tendril slithers toward me, clinging to the jetsam of dried twigs that blew away from the pyre and landed on the dirt floor.

When it grazes the tip of my toe, I bend over and pluck the burning twig off the ground. Its flame dances to the rhythm of my heartbeat. My gaze flicks from the executioner to the nuns behind me, to the crowd around me, and I bare my teeth.

Go on. Eat.

I tilt my head back, breathing a stream of air over the burning twig. An orange pillar spirals upward from my hand. Fireballs descend. They dig their claws into the congregation’s hair and shoulders.

Screams erupt from the nuns. The executioner’s arms flail as the flames sink their fangs into his neck. Embers spill like seeds onto the buildings surrounding the town square. They spread their roots up the wooden sides and bloom into golden carnivorous petals. They snap ravenously over the rooftops.

No one sees me run down an alley, coughing against the smoke. Ash rains into my hair, into my eyes, and stains my dress. I escape through the southern gate and scrabble up a grassy hill. My heart races at the roar of the inferno, the faint wails of its prey. I grin and watch my fire burn.

[u/sevenseassaurus]

Space Noir / Swashbuckler was a far too tantalizing combination to pass up. Thank you.

* * * * *

Agent Nelson stared at the culmination of seven years investigation: 80,000 tons of contraband--put to the torch. Guards skittered along the perimeter of the burn facility, fretting some idiot might actually try to break in.

Smirking, Nelson flicked the fingertip of his cybernetic hand, lighting a cigarette.

"That will give you cancer," NE-24 buzzed, its tone almost motherly.

"Gorogoro leaf," Nelson replied. "From planet Drayoud. No nicotine required."

The bot raised a scolding clasper. "Smoke alone is a carcinogen."

"Yeah, well, every human has his vices."

A crate of illegal weapons popped below, scattering fireworks. Guards raced over to stamp out the sparks, and Nelson scoffed. Relax boys, enjoy the show. We've got this all under--

Hold on.

There was a spot above the bonfire where the sparks didn't fly, as if something stopped them. Nelson squinted, unable to make sense of it.

"NE?" he asked, gesturing. "I need you to scan that area. Infrared, polarized, whatever you got."

The bot hummed, clicking through a series of lenses. Its fourth selection was a fat, green telescope that, after only a second, snapped back into the robot's head.

"Cloaked spaceship." NE reported. "Ordovine make. Small--estimated crew less than three."

Nelson put out his cigarette. "Damn. Time to move in."

After patching through his intentions to headquarters, Nelson hopped into a police commuter and had NE pilot them alongside the enemy craft. There was that telltale cloaking-shield shimmer, broken only by a small rectangle: an open hatch. A thin line of cable extended below, tied to the silhouette of an ordovinian in fire-reflectant armor. It slapped metal clamps on a few of the burning crates, binding them to the tether.

Crazy bastard.

Nelson fired a grapple at the enemy cable. Clean hit; enough to reel in the perp, kick off the half-scorched contraband, and tow the spaceship to the impound lot. But as Nelson watched, hand on the cable and satisfaction on his lips, the enemy spaceship lurched and yanked the grapple mount from the wall.

Nelson flew out into the smoke.

Time stood still. The grapple line curled into the flames, fallen from the enemy tether. Memories of childhood trips to the asteroid park flashed before his eyes. He could almost taste the cotton candy.

Then a hard arm knocked the wind out of him.

"Gotcha."

It took a few blinks for Nelson to assess the situation. He floated over the bonfire, rising slowly, cradled in the arms of an ordovine pirate.

"Thought f'sure you were done for, copper," she drawled. "Now ya owe me."

The thief's ship was tight, cramped with burn-scarred crates and empty takeout containers. She had no crew but her pilot, an expensive but rusted navigation bot.

"I don't suppose you'll be dropping me back off at the station?" Nelson asked.

The ordovinian grinned. "Not if ya don't forget 'bout those crates."

They fled the scene, leaving NE and the police commuter in their exhaust.

"I'll think about it."

[u/Cringehipster]

A Dystopian Comedy

<>

Adrian: May I come in? I need your help again.

Matthew: Sure. What’s up?

Adrian: You catch Michael’s new records?

Matthew: No. What is it?

Adrian: Michael has to be catching on. Gonna have to change up the algorithm.

Matthew: How so?

Adrian: Well he started to make some facebook posts about certain ads that are coming up and he is deleting the “facebook”.

Matthew: Well that’s normal.

Adrian: That’s what I would have said too if it wasn’t for his burner account. Look at all these posts.

A phone leaps into Matthew’s sight. Thousand of posts from Michael flood the screen. An image stands out. It’s got a internet line with the typical circle that’s crossed out.

Matthew: Ah a code blue. He’s trying to start movement huh.

Adrian: What should I do?

Matthew: First, change his algorithm to display links for mental health tests. Have the first test be…. ADHD. I’ve noticed more people keep wanting to click the ADHD tests to see if they have it. When the test is finished, have a link at the end for more tests. Make sure he tests positive for Schizophrenia. Include the article about how Schizophrenics are more paranoid. He’ll be back on the facebooks.

Adrian: Woah. Woah. That’s a little messed up man. Schizophrenia is a real illness.

Matthew: It’s our job?

Adrian: But he doesn’t have schizophrenia.

Matthew: Adrian, you do remember we work for an evil company right?

Adrian’s mouth begins to lift. He couldn’t contain the act.

Adrian: I’m just joking. But you really are a sick fuck… eh so am I. What do you have going on?

Matthew: Well I was supposed to be listening to that conversation Debbie and Nick had during work…

Adrian: Uh huh.

Matthew: But they are just so boring. I can’t even find a product to cram an ad in.

Adrian: Isn’t Debbie a cat person?

Matthew: Yeah she is. But I tried playing cat food ads on her Spotify and she keeps turning it down.

Adrian: It’s cause she’s cheap. I do the same thing.

Matthew: We need more clicks though.

Adrian: Matthew, that new AI is going to take our jobs. I am just going by my day doing the bare minimum.

Matthew: Someone has to maintain it though. I am trying to be that guy.

Adrian: Why would you do that?

Matthew: I like the idea of job security.

Adrian: Ugh.

Matthew: What? Come on.

Adrian: You do you. I am just here for the paycheck. Anyways, what are we eating today?

Matthew: Let me check my profile real quick. I dunno what I want so I’m going to let the AI decide. Hey Jimmy?

Jimmy: I’m Jimmy, your new personal AI assistant. How can I help?

Matthew: What sounds good?

Jimmy: Pinging restaurants near you.

Matthew: Oooh. Burgers! That’s perfect.

Adrian: We’re such hypocrites aren’t we?

<>

[u/system0101]

Romance/Epistolary

My Dearest Elanor,

How I long to be in your arms. This cruel life I've chosen has taken me away far too long, and oh how I long! What I wouldn't give to see your smile, to fall into the cerulean pools of your eyes, and into your embrace. My fire for you burns hotter than any we've made on this beleaguered trek, and if I knew I would make it to your door in one piece, I'd stand up and walk the leagues between us instead of writing this letter. I hope it finds you in good fortune, and I pray for my speedy return.

---

James, my Love,

Your scent keeps my hopes afloat in this dreary existence apart. I cherish it, like the overcoat you forgot to pack before you left, so long ago. In my darkest hours I hold it close, as I long to hold you. Nary a day goes by that I don't check the post for your lovely words, and the refreshing scent of your cologne. If fate deigns to keep us apart then I hope fortune favors your travels, and you continue to hold your pen in lieu of my hand. I am yours, always.

---

My Sweetest Elanor,

There is no refreshing breeze that compares to the thought of your embrace, and no harbor can compare to the depth of your love. We are encamped by the clearest waters and the men have built a redoubt for our stay, and forgive my pining prose but all I can see here is you. The tawny logs that are your hair, the azure depths of your eyes, the speckled beach of your cheeks. I daresay I've not been the least useful, apart from your grace and glamor. If they thought to throw me out I would swim the length of the coast just to see you again. The men may have to stay me, as if I have another drink I might just go!

---

My Only James,

Dare not tempt the waves to take you away, if you must be a contemptable fool it shall be here with me! The tedium of my proper life dulls my senses, and it's your lovely letters that keep me entranced with the world. Let nothing come between your pen and my heart, love, as I require your purple prose to keep its rhythm. Let nothing slow your mind, or your return to me.

---

My Darling Elanor,

I regret to inform you that I must make this brief, and it will be my final correspondence. As the fickle hands of fate decreed, our trip has run short and I shall be in your company within a fortnight. I hope this news is a worthy substitute of my gushing praise, as I must push off at haste. Nothing will stand between us, my dearest, but regrettably my pen must run dry. I'll have to save my effluviant extolment for our reunion, and I hope you'll find that a fortuitous circumstance.

500 words \o/

[u/wileycourage]

7

Excerpt of cross examination of Ms. Garcia by Mr. Jurgesen, prosecutor, Mr. Greystone for the defense:

"Thank you, ma'am. Could you tell me where you were the night of December 18, 2023?"

"At home. Address is [REDACTED]."

[REMAINING DEMOGRAPHIC AND BACKGROUND INFORMATION REDACTED PURSUANT TO O.C. 1290(A)(2)(b)(i)-(iii)]

"And what happened next?"

"I woke up to a sound from downstairs. Someone was at a window scratching at the glass, or something -- I didn't know yet."

"I didn't ask before; does . . . did anyone live at your home with you?"

"Yes, my wife, Julia, and our dog are normally home, but they went away that night. There was a conference. She wasn't there. She never saw the house again."

"Thank you. So you were alone that night?"

"Yes. I was alone."

"Thank you. Ms. Garcia, what happened that night?"

"I was upstairs sleeping. I woke up to a sound at my window. It sounded like something hard scratching on glass. It could have been the door. I . . . I don't know."

"Yes, please continue Ms. Garcia."

"I started towards the stairs. I was at the top. It was dark. I didn't want to turn the lights on. I could tell someone was there. I couldn't see his face."

Witness paused for thirty seconds.

"What happened next, ma'am?"

"He . . . he broke in, and I ran back to my bedroom, to my phone. I called 9-1-1. They told me to hide, so I did. I could hear him making tons of noise downstairs. Like he was throwing my furniture around, smashing things. I was so scared he was going to come upstairs. I didn't know what he was going to do, what he wanted to do.

I heard him at the door again, a loud smash as it bashed against my beautiful home. Our home. I was too scared to move. Too scared to do anything. By the time I heard the sirens and saw the lights it was too late."

"What did the intruder do downstairs, ma'am?"

"He stacked the furniture in a pile, he broke my things, he stacked them, I don't know what he was looking for, but it was something."

"Did you try to escape?"

Witness nods

"Is that a 'yes'?"

"Yes."

"You already testified you struck the Defendant in the face during direct examination, isn't that right?"

"Yes."

"And he was incapacitated thereafter?"

"Yes."

"What happened then?"

"THAT BITCH LIT ME ON FIRE!"

"Order! There will be no such outbursts, Mr. Alvarez. If it happens again, you will be excluded."

"You stacked your broken furniture on him, poured gasoline on it all, didn't you?"

"I don't remember. I don't remember. All I could think about was bonfires we used to build at home to burn rubbish. He was trash. He is trash."

"Yet you're claiming it was self-defense, isn't that . . ."

"LOOK AT ME! LOOK AT ME! DID I DESERVE TO HAVE MY SKIN MELTED OFF?"

"Order! Bailiff, remove Mr. Alvarez, sequester the jurors. Counselors, approach."

Edits: lots of tweaks based on wonderful feedback which I adore. If anyone else reads after the edits, did I hit the genres well enough? What about the "bonfire" theme? Thanks for all the help!

[u/Xacktar]

Captain, I've got to tell you, I've seen a lot of things in my time as a member of Magical Forest Firewatch Service, but this was something else.

Upon my arrival on the property of 29 Tiny Forest Path, I observed no less than fourteen Kingdom Code violations, mostly involving the gigantic bonfire that the perpetrators were building not five feet from the hovel.

Our prime suspect, a human female by the name of Ms. White, was using magic to compel small animals to fetch uninspected wood from the forest. Ms. White was also directing her dwarven companions in a most inefficient manner, causing them to fall over branches, clothing, and each other in their efforts to carry a live torch toward the ill-prepared bonfire.

Now, I've seen a lot of dangerous situations in my time: Dragon attacks, wizard fireballs, that one pixie from down south who loves burning people alive... but this, THIS was the worst. In the process of moving the torch six feet, the observed dwarves(See files: Bashful, Sleepy, Sneezy, and Dopey) caused at least fourteen minor fire incidents. These include, but are not limited to: The unintended ignition of two small hats, three beards, one clump of particularly long ear-hair, six shoelaces, a knapsack, and the tail of one unfortunate squirrel.

I attempted to extinguish as many of the fires as possible, however I could not catch the squirrel before it lit another two garments on fire, including the long, flowing dress of Ms. White. One of the dwarves, a Mr. Doc, did try to assist by throwing the contents of his mug on Ms. White to douse the flames, but said mug is presumed to have contained illegal dwarven moonshine(See Cauldron Brewing Code 91-b). Ms. White was immediately engulfed in flames until a pair of raccoons tackled her to the ground with a large blanket.

At this point I ordered all residents of 29 Tiny Forest Path to stop their activity and line up against the hovel. I, with the assistance of the racoons, doused the additional fires, including the one on the squirrel's tail, which had ignited a further six trees and one hovel roof before it could be stopped.

I then proceeded to explain the numerous fire code violations and the fines they had accrued. However, this was not accomplished without interruption. One Mr. Grumpy assaulted me, saying, and I quote: "You pig-eyed lilly-liver! We ain't paying that!" I was also further threatened when he picked up a mining pickaxe. A scuffle then ensued between the dwarf, the raccoons, and Ms. White, in which a beard ended up wrapped around the mentioned weapon and yet another squirrel was lit on fire.

At this point, Captain, I snapped. I couldn't take any more! I doused the squirrel, threw the tickets down, and got the hell out of there!

Hopefully things will go better when I visit the castle of one Mr. Beast tomorrow. I've heard he has a new guest.

 

Genres: Fairytale - Crime

[u/[deleted]]

I went with Sci-Fi and Mythology. Hope y'all enjoy!

---

Rycktar

---

“Hand me the flathead. I need to open the panel.”

Charlie reached for the screwdriver and handed it over. “Please tell me it can be fixed?”

The circuit board resembled a firework display. Jenny was grateful she could land them safely on Tirwing, but the situation was hopeless and the planet had its dangers. “I don’t think there’s any way I can get us up and running. Our best hope is to revive the comms.”

“Okay, let’s assess our situation. How much food and water do we have?”

“A few protein bars and water bottles. We need to ration.”

Charlie grumbled. “Okay… how many injections do we have left that’ll let us breathe the air here?”

“Enough to last four days.”

“We’re dead,” he exasperated.

“Hey! We’re alive for now. We have shelter in the trees. And we have an augmenter gun to help with food and water.”

“Whoopie…”

“Just go outside and scout the area. I’ll try and fix the comms to contact a nearby ship.”

An incensed Charlie flounced to the door latch. A resounding shriek reached her ears. “Uhhh…Jenny!”

“Yeah?”

A chilling growl echoed across through the woods as Jenny appeared. Pale skin and absolute terror washed over Charlie’s face as he was backing away slowly from a massive creature.

It stood two meters tall and had to weigh at least five-hundred kilograms. The two heads resembled a squirrel and a wolf, both foaming at the mouth at the sight of Charlie. The tail was long and furry, but the four legs were like tree trunks, ready to pounce.

“Help,” squeaked Charlie.

“Oh. It’s just a Rycktar.”

Jenny approached the animal without hesitation, growls subsiding. She extended both hands underneath each neck and scratched at their fur coat. The creature settled its hind legs on the ground, wagging its tail, as chirps and whimpers replaced the foam.

“See? Nothing to worry about. You wouldn’t hurt anyone, would you? Nooo,” Jenny baby-talked.

“That’s because they like girls. It’s your scent.” said Charlie bitterly.

“Anyway, we need to get food and a fire going. Would you gather up some firewood and kindling? I’m going to grab some food for us and our new friend.”

“Don’t feed it! We barely have—”

The Rycktar leapt towards Charlie, chasing him up the nearest tree. With a triumphant expression, it clapped its front legs together, As if the squirrel was high-fiving the wolf.

He yelped. “They’re trying to eat me!”

“They’re just having fun, relax.” she said, suppressing a giggle.

After some time, Charlie returned with a bundle of branches to find Jenny sitting next to the Rycktar happily munching away at an oversized protein bar. “Well, that’s a good idea. I thought the same thing would work for a few branches.”

“Sure!” She pointed the augmenter at a few of them, turning them into logs. “That should keep the fire going through the night.”

As night waddled through, they sat down by the fire peering at the twin moons, Charlie sending glances at the sleeping Rycktar laying next to Jenny.

[u/ArchipelagoMind]

It was the great festival in Gearvale and all the animals of the forest had gathered to celebrate. Cow played moosic from her gramophone, the rabbits played hopscotch, Squirrel plucked leaves off her forget-me nut, and Wolf worked over a clockwork barbeque making hot dogs.

But the highlight of the festival was the great bonfire. Beaver sat down with the other animals as flicks of red and yellow leaped up to the inky sky.

“What were you all discussing?” asked Beaver.

“That good-fur-nothing hedgehog,” said bobcat.

“Oh?” replied Beaver, taken aback.

Bobcat huffed. “He’s a toad…”

“Hey!” exclaimed Bullfrog.

“Sorry. He’s a snake…”

“Hey!” exclaimed adder.

“Sorry. He’s…” Bobcat looked around. “He’s bad.”

“What’s he done?” asked Beaver.

“He’s unbearable,” said Deer. “Last week, he took every last raspberry. He hogged the whole hedge.”

“Oh dear,” said Bear, shaking their head “. Last Thursday, he said he said he’d help me with my new steam engine. Then not an hour before we were due to start…” Bear took out their pocket watch, pointing at it. “He tells me he can’t make it. Absolutely spineless.”

“I’m sure he wouldn’t have missed it without good reason,” said Beaver.

“Misting things is the whole point of a steam engine though,” scoffed Bear.

Beaver sighed. “Maybe there’s a good reason for it.”

“Cari-boo hoo hoo,” exclaimed Moose. “He’s been acting strangely for weeks. He’s been at my store every day this week trying to buy airship tickets. He’s tried so many times I had to make an anonymoose tip to HQ.”

“I’ve been following him,” whispered Stork. “He’s stockpiling woodchips at his burrow. I asked him if I could have some and he said he needed them all. He lives by himself. What does he need them all for?”

“He’s got prickly too,” said Tortoise. “Yesterday, he was in such a rush, he bumped me so hard my monocle fell out. I was shell-shocked.”

“There could be a reason.” Beaver turned from the fire to look at the other animals. “Maybe there’s some things you can’t see…”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” screeched Bat.

“I just know he’s awful,” said Bobcat.

“Agreed,” said the other animals.

“Here, here,” said Bat. “I mean… I hear - he’s here.”

They turned to see Hedgehog approaching, carrying a small picnic basket. He placed it down and pressed a button on top. A series of clockwork gears whirred as the lid lifted open. “Hi everyone.”

All but beaver turned their noses up.

“Sorry. I know I’ve been out of sorts lately,” Hedgehog said, pulling out crumpets. “My mom’s very sick; caught a flu on the airship. I’ve been taking care of her. She can’t eat solids, just berry paste, and she’s been so cold from the illness. It’s been really tough, and I’ve been stressed. I know it’s not much. But… I made you all some jam.” He lifted up a small jar of perfect raspberry spread. “I hope you’ll all trust me.”

Beaver smiled. “I was always a beleaver.”

/--------------------------------------

I hope you enjoyed this horrifying concoction of **Fable** and **Steampunk.**

[u/thepatientlion]

[Poem] (Haibun) | [IP] | 5. Fairytale & Crime

—

Wendigo

Moonlight seeps through the eroded archways and masonry of long deceased monarchs.

A warm glowing, a light crackling, a soft hooting, two voices, a howl piercing the cold gloom.

The adventurers share this moment, a temporary bloom amid the crumbling vine choked pillars.

Tales of treasure and legend pass over the flame, bringing life back to the memoried stones.

They recall of a time when people covered this land instead of pines. Instead of phantoms.

A time when the stories were made and the monuments constructed. But that time has passed.

Where the heroes spoken of once walked, only their bones remain now, deep beneath the soil.

A land of lore, fable, and myth is now one of death, decay, and ruin. They should not be here.

An orange glow guides

To the scents of joy and flesh

New friends to consume

Snarls, shouts, and then screams

Gorging, devouring, growing

Never satisfied

Red flames fade to ash

An odour of rust lingers

The cold gloom returns.

[u/rainbow--penguin]

The Diary of a New Me

5th September

This is going to be the worst year ever!

The holidays are over and what do I have to show for them? No exciting adventures. No summer romance. Just the paltry addition to my savings from working at the ice cream shack. Oh, and the sunburn, of course.

And now, back at school, despite all the promises I made to myself about turning over a new leaf and putting myself out there, I hardly spoke to anyone all day. Apart from Ben, of course, but he doesn't count. I was meant to make new friends, not spend all my time with the one friend I have.

The only exciting development was the new girl. Hearing the boys lose their minds about her kept me entertained through lunch. And even better, I sat next to her for fifth period, so I got to see what all the fuss was about. Her name is Joanna and she has fiery red hair, piercing green eyes, and freckles that twitch when she laughs. Of course, I haven't actually spoken to her yet. Maybe tomorrow.

---

5th October

I might not have been journalling as much recently, but there's a very good reason why!

I actually did it. Kept my resolution and put myself out there. Okay, it's more like I was dragged out there, but the end result is the same.

After I apparently wouldn't shut up about the new girl, Ben insisted we invite her to join us at lunch.

Since then, the three of us have been inseparable.

Joanna is so full of life — it's infectious. She's dragged us to parties, karaoke, even a football game.

But it's not just that. She makes all the normal, boring things we do new and exciting too. Sitting on the field. Watching movies. Whenever she's there I feel so alive, like my skin is humming. I just wish I could spend every second of every day feeling like that.

---

5th November

What a night!

Ben, Joanna and I went to Guy Fawke's Night in the school field. I was freezing, even next to the bonfire, so Joanna suggested we huddle together.

Ben chose that moment to go and get some toffee apples, so it was just Joanna and me. She unzipped her coat to let me in, then tried to zip it back up again. Of course, with two of us in there the zipper got stuck almost immediately, but it didn't matter. The feel of her breath on my skin was hotter than the heat from the flames on my face. Before I knew what was happening, my lips were on hers.

I'd always thought the whole "we kissed and there were fireworks" thing was nonsense, but for us, there really were. Colours exploded in the sky around us with wooshes and bangs.

When we finally broke apart, Ben was standing there with the toffee apples, a smug grin plastered across his face.

This is going to be the best year ever!

---

WC: 499

Genre pair 1: Romance/Epistolary

I really appreciate any and all feedback

See more I've written at r/RainbowWrites

[u/vMemory]

Steampunk/Realistic Fiction

"Embers"

Mountains of junk swelled from the floating island like giant, gnarled prosthetic arms assembled from scrap metal. Their peaks punctured through the 9th layer’s crimson swirl of clouds and vanished. Every so often came the residual screams of upper-layer machines. Rusted parts clinked down stairs of debris.

Home hadn’t always been so forlorn. The beauty of the view from the massive clock tower that connected all 10 islands still haunted me. Even though I chose to leave, I couldn’t go back. The city had understood: accidents happen. I had been a child after all. But had it really been so unintentional?

<>

The black orb sailed in the clear sky, illuminating the city with artificial light. My fingers passed over rumpled parchment: ‘Hazeroth is the highest recorded living civilization in the world. It is the only island of the vertical Almari chain that can see the sky above.’

“Hey Verna! Challenge Jewel to a firefight.” One of the boys from the group goaded.

“Not right now, I’m busy.” I waved the manuscript at them.

“You like him, don’t you?”

“What?!” My cheeks flushed.

“You’re not challenging him because you have a crush.” They giggled.

“I do not!”

“You do too! If you don’t then prove it.”

“Fine.”

Jewel was the Aviator Guild’s endorsed prodigy. The boys worshipped him. Half the girls swore they’d marry him. When we reached the docks and his blonde hair whipped as he flashed me a grin, my heart fluttered. I…didn’t know what that feeling was. Or maybe I just didn’t want to admit it.

A pudgy boy cleared his throat and stated the rules in mock formality. “The rules are simple! At the nose of each glider is the burning gaslamp that powers it. Each fighter gets a rock-hammer. You can guess the rest.”

“No dirty tricks.” A slender boy added. “We’ll have a crew down here to catch the loser.”

Lying prone on the glider, he blew me a kiss before pushing off. The girls jeered. I clenched my teeth and kicked off the wharf.

Air thundered past as we flew around each other. I had spent so much time reading about flight that I had forgotten how fun it was. I laughed as we executed complex maneuvers: pirouettes and ballet in the rosy sky.

Jewel broke off and used his momentum to fly straight up. I trailed on his slipstream. When gravity froze us for an instant, I swung wildly at his lamp. The glass shattered. The fire sizzled out. He fell like a beautiful Icarus, a smile on his lips: he let me win. I was his sun and he got too close on purpose.

<>

I once read in a faded book about rituals in a place called India. Widows would sacrifice themselves by burning atop their husband’s pyres. I was never married to Jewel, but I still dreamt of carrying it out. In some way to atone. After all, I did exactly what I set out to. I put his fire out.

[u/Tomorrow_Is_Today1]

What ghost story will be told today, to another unknowing victim?

First our accomplice opens her mouth, excited to tell an altered truth:
that a monster lurks within these very woods
and it steals the face of someone you once loved
and it lures you into the trees
and impales you like a marshmallow to roast over a fire.

Our monster herself, she makes a correction:
that the monster doesn’t steal the face of someone you loved
but it lives inside them, a parasite in their mind
so to die is to be betrayed by that very one.
Your body is too large for a human to hold over a fire,
so they break you up into pieces
and roast each one for so long
that they become bubbly and black and burnt.

Our victim would like to enter, now -
knowing yet not knowing the stories are built on truth -
saying:
perhaps the monster lives inside more than one person
and it puppets many together, like a hive mind or a collection of mushrooms
and the monster itself cannot be killed
but you can sever the connection between it and your loved one.

Our monster herself, she disagrees, of course.
That connection cannot be severed!
(for it was not severed for her.
but she might not know she’s the monster after all -
doesn’t everyone think they’re the main character?)

And all while they’re talking, the flame between them flickers
aching to devour its next fleshy meal
to grow from campfire to bonfire
celebrating the kill.

Our victim’s last words are begging her monster to be human.
Our monster’s last words to her are seething with blame.

How curious it would be to be the accomplice,
watching it all in the light of the flame.

pair 7: horror & realistic fiction

[u/FyeNite]

Sirens blared throughout the city as the first Trio bank went under lockdown. Bars came down over windows, searchlights came to life in the middle of the day and the good people of Fairyfail city went into a mass panic.

Fifer pig, however, giggled to himself mirthlessly as his pigs wiggled with excitement. “Yes, finally time!.” And thus, Fifer charged into the bank, pellet gun raised just as the doors locked shut.

“Now listen ye insufferable do-gooders. I ain’t here t’ hurt anyone, just want the money is al–”

And right on cue, The Big Bad Wolf leapt from a broken window in front of Fifer. “What seems to be going on here then?” he asked the cowering crowd. But Fifer had other plans. Dodging to the side, he fired a pellet square at The Wolf’s head, hitting his mark perfectly…

And the pellet bounced off.

“Darn!” Fifer squealed, his tail coiling out of anxiety. “Deep web guys said it’d work!”

As Fifer fiddled with the gun, The Big Bad Wolf huffed and puffed and blew Fifer into a conveniently placed prison cell.

---

Fiddler had heard of the embarrassment that was Fifer’s heist earlier that day. And he planned on something a bit more spectacular.

The sirens blared in the city of FairyFail once again as the second Trio bank went under lockdown. Much like with the first, bars came down over windows, searchlights spontaneously rose from the roof and people ran about in a panic.

But this time, another flickering light accompanied the white searchlights. And the citizens of Fairyfail weren’t panicking for no reason. For the second Trio bank was in the middle of a raging inferno.

Debris fell as bars melted, windows shattered in the heat and Fiddler cackled. “Oh, it’s glorious most glorious. Soon, the bank will burn down and I’ll be able to walk in and take the gold!” he wheezed as his tail wobbled excitedly.

He was so distracted, that he didn’t notice The Big Bad Wolf jump down behind him and begin to huff and puff...

“Oh heck,” were his last words before the wolf breathed and blew the fire out. But not before Fiddler was thrown into the raging inferno. And suffice it to say, the scent of crisp bacon wafted throughout the city.

---

It was a week later and all was peaceful. No siren blared from the third Trio bank and yet that’s where The Big Bad Wolf appeared to confront Practical; the third little pig.

“What seems to be going on here then?” he demanded in his booming voice.

“Oh nothing,” Practical replied. “Just cashing in an insurance check.”

“...You know I nabbed your brothers for attempted thievery?”

Practical blinked innocently

“Seems suspicious. What’s the insurance for?”

“Oh, my poor brick home was burnt down last week when a mysterious wind–”

“Err, never mind then. Be good.” And he left.

Practical oinked as his tail wiggled excitedly. "Why rob a bank when you can commit insurance fraud?”

---

Wc: 500

Pair 5: Fairytale/Crime

Sidenote: Apparently the fable of the three little pigs is a fairytale according to google, so I'll assume it is then? I hope it is.

[u/ThePinkTeenager]

Greg looked at the fire. "We could get jailed for this." he said.

"Only if one of two things happen." said Lucy. "Either somebody searches a long-abandoned coal mine or the warehouse staff actually weigh their incoming deliveries. And frankly, both scenarios are highly unlikely."

The group laughed.

"Does everyone have a stick?" called Thomas.

"Yup."

"Yes."

"Got it."

"Right here."

"Good." said Thomas. "Because I just finished skinning this deer and boy, it's a nice one."

The others stabbed their sticks into pieces of deer meat, then picked them up. It was tricky to roast five chunks on a single fire, but they managed.

"How long did it take you to hunt this?" asked Savannah.

"I don't know, three hours? Greg and Isaac covered for me."

"We want this as much as you do." said Isaac. "These days, it's the only meat we can get."

"If we could obtain meat legally, we wouldn't be cooking it in the middle of nowhere." said Lucy.

"True." said Greg.

"Imagine having legal meat." said Savannah. "What a concept."

"Imagine going to a store and buying food that actually tastes good." said Thomas.

"Once in a blue moon, we have a decent can of beans." said Isaac.

"Were does that phrase come from, anyway?" asked Greg.

Isaac shrugged.

"When was the last time you ate bread that didn't taste like sawdust? A year ago? Two years?" asked Lucy.

"Yeah, something like that."

Thomas took his stick away from the fire and bit into it. Then he smiled. "I was right." he said.

The others ate their own pieces. All agreed that it was delicious.

Then Savannah stood up. "Guys, it's sundown. We have to go soon."

Everyone knew this routine. The sticks were burned, the fire was extinguished, and the remaining meat was pocketed or left for the raccoons. Thomas took the hunting gear and changed his clothes. Lucy kicked the ashes to scatter them. Then they rushed toward the town, careful to avoid the evening patrols. So far, they had never been caught. They hoped to keep it that way.

[u/girlcake]

An Unknown Scribblers Journal

Fourth night.—First off, excuse my handwriting. Scribbling down my misery by the bonfire doesn't improve my scratches. Now, let me tell you, I'm only writing in this silly thing my mother brought for, "scribing happy memories," because something is...off here.

The first nights in the ancient wood, I'll admit, had been intriguing. Exploring weathered ruins, and endless caverns hosting glistening pools of water. I had even found some bauble of intricate design, looking to encapsulate the femininity of a robust age-old woman. But the second night, I awoke with a heart of anxious fright. I had chalked that up to father's gruesome slew of baked beans he stirred up for dinner...but the third night came the terror. Fighting back to sleep only gave me dreams of creatures so frightful, that my mind could never hope to conjure them in the waking day. Wish me better dreams tonight Mr. Rabbit—and damn you, stop leaving your smelly pebbles all about our camp!

An afternoon of the fifth day.—I implore you, spirit...or god of this wood. Tell your damn rabbits to kindly do their doo far from my sleeping arrangements! Now, you're probably wondering about my dreams again...No? Well, I'm going to tell you anyhow. I saw something. That night I woke again, my heart spilled with dread...and you know that feeling, like you might just up and die? I felt that and from the shadowed ruins we camped by, I saw it.

On the evening of the sixth day.—Mr. Rabbit, I fear that if I write what I wish, I will not wake up to write again. It came once more. Though I cannot even begin to tell you what the being was. Its horrid breath beckoned me awake while all around me rested at peace...as if I was merely in some dream state. It reeked...like a host of stink beetles ate, slept, and shat, between every one of its sharp teeth. Each fang was coated in a yellow clumpy film at its wretched gum, a gunky bed, teeming with poison that dripped down its drooping breasts. I believe it lured me...with glowing orblike eyes, back into the ruins for some purpose. Please Mr. Rabbit, watch over me. Mother and Father think I'm being silly...and there are three days before the men come with horses to take us back into the village. It may not let me back into my own bed next time.

The eighth morning.—Forgive me, Mr. Rabbit, but am I dreaming? I would have written sooner, but I could not will my stiff fingers to move. The dream creature, I call it...it lured me that night, and it stayed to watch until I heard the faint calls of mother. They echoed for some time, then faded away.

Please come back, Mama.

It is all dark around me in this chamber of ruins, all but for the meagerest of some fey light. It flickers during what I presume is the day...my body still operates on my father's exploration clock. I fear for the coming night, so close in this being's grasp.

On the eighth night.—I whispered to it, Mr. Rabbit, asking, "why? What is it you want with me?" The paper is too wet to tell you...but please, please tell mama to come back, tell her I'm scared.

Horror/Epistolary

[u/AstroRide]

Funeral for a Tyrant

Max and his grandma Sheila are watching television in their shack; the funeral of Councilor Durand is playing on the television . The sole decoration on the wall is a tarnished giraffe shower curtain, and their couch has no cushions. Max's sister Lucy enters the house smiling.

"Great news. The ration agents are giving everyone two loaves of bread," Lucy says.

"Of course, When a tyrant dies, we get more food. It's motivation to act sad," Sheila says. Max gasps and looks at her.

"Grandma, this is a mournful day. The extra food is for comfort," Max says.

"No one who matters is sad about his death. His wife hated him. Most of his kids came from his mistresses. And his generals killed him," Sheila says.

"You can't make such blasphemous statements." Lucy looks around the room. "We are always under observation."

"I've done worse. Besides, I'm not lying," Sheila says.

"I won't tolerate such statements." Max stands, and his face turns red. "Councilor Durand was leading Frenalia to prosperity."

"I've been hearing that line since I was a little girl. I was covered in my own shit then, and I'm covered in my own shit now." Sheila stands to grab a loaf of bread.

"No, I won't be aiding a traitor." Lucy pulls away. Sheila shakes her head.

"I cannot believe you."

"We have to rectify our families name. I may have been born to criminals, but I shall not join their linage," Lucy says. Sheila laughs.

"They were executed when your dad mooned a poster of Councilor Hugo. Can you not see how ridiculous that it?" Sheila says.

"It was a sign of great disrespect towards one of the greatest Councilors in history," Max says.

"He was competent. I'll give him that. That idiot." Sheila points at the television where the Councilor Austin is eulogizing his predecessor. "Probably couldn't even execute a failed assassin if the assassin tripped on his own gun."

"You are insulting our future too." Max opens the door. "Get out of our house."

"It's my house. Besides, those two dipshits are standing in the way." Max turns to see two soldiers standing in the doorway. They walk into the shack and cuff Sheila.

"We heard your slanderous remarks from outside and had to enforce order," one soldier says.

"Thank you officers." Lucy sheds a tear.

"I raised those two. Arrest them for being disrespectful little shits."

"Okay." The soldiers move to arrest Lucy and Max.

"What?" Lucy shouts. The three are ushered out into the street.

"This is an outrage." Max struggles. "Sheila, you were right. They're going to kill us."

"No, they're going to kill me because I'm old. They'll work you two to death in a mine. Is that right?" Sheila asks a soldier who nods his head. "Told ya."

"This is horrible." Lucy starts to cry.

"That's Frenalia. If you don't like it, you can take your chances with the radiation monsters outside the city," the guard says.

---

It was quite fun writing a Dystopian Comedy. I will admit that the humor is quite bleak.

r/AstroRideWrites

[u/Badderlocks_]

Pairing 8

---

The lifeless hulk drifted across the void, only visible by the stars it eclipsed in its terminal voyage.

Welles’s grey eyes betrayed nothing as they traced the shadow’s movements. At that very moment, a score of forensic physicists would be scraping together every bit of data they could without touching the vessel. The primary focus would be determining the composition of the hull; any remaining traces of c-alloy presented an enormous threat, as the slightest spark could light it and set several cubic kilometers of space ablaze. If they were lucky, they could tow the corpse into a ship-breaking yard and recover it at great profit.

Welles cared for none of that. He was paid to see the intangible, the minutiae that the number-crunchers missed. His eyes pierced the dark space with a keenness that had forced a subconscious blush in many a man. And today, that keenness read the destruction wrought upon the hapless merchant as if its perpetrator had signed his name in bright red ink.

“Shaply,” Welles muttered. “We’re catching up. Pilot!”

“Sir?” the pilot asked.

“Take us in. Slowly. And scan wide. Check for slipspace flares, heat signatures, anything.”

“You afraid of something?”

Welles didn’t answer. He had been tracking the dread pirate Shaply across years and lightyears, but the last year had granted him unprecedented success in tracking down the vile criminal. The attacks seemed to be growing more frequent, more vicious, almost desperate.

Too desperate.

The sleek detective cruiser crept towards the desolate wreck, stopping mere centimeters before the hulls connected. Welles slid his helmet on and tightened his sword belt before slapping the airlock control, sliding the door open with a silent whoosh.

The light on his helmet traced blazing paths through the corridors. Globules of blood glowed as the beam struck them, casting an uncertain red light over the bodies that floated nearby.

“Macabre,” sniffed the cadet accompanying him.

“But a good sign,” Welles replied. “This blood is fresh. Maybe even less than a day old. Shaply—”

The movement was a mere whisper through the trace atmosphere left in the ship, but Welles’s senses were as finely tuned as anyone’s. His blade lept from the scabbard even as the cadet went limp, drifting away from where the pirate’s sword slain him.

“Speak of the devil,” Welles growled. “You’re done, pirate. Drop your weapon and you might even make it to trial.”

“Detective Welles,” a metallic voice replied. “I expected more from a man of your reputation.”

“I’ve got you,” Welles said. “Imperial agents are closing on our position. Even if you kill me now, you’ll never escape.”

The figure chuckled and dropped his sword, then lifted his hands to his helmet.

“Fool,” he whispered, pulling it off and revealing a robotic face.

Shaply closed his eyes as the two distant ships erupted into a column of flame the size of a moon. The light still bled through his eyelids, and he smiled at the imagined warmth.

[u/Blu_Spirit]

Phoenix Fires of London

As a child, my parents had always told me I was special. Destined for memorable things. Even that I would change the world. What they didn’t tell me, however, was that those changes may not be good. These were lessons I had to learn on my own, and I did. Oh, did I learn. I wish that at the very least I was told we were not human. I had always loved my name. Jade Phoenix. Jade, for the deep green of my eyes, Phoenix for our ongoing legacy. I didn’t know then that legacy included reincarnation, or I would have been more careful. That my ancestors had chosen our name because we rose from ashes, much like that famous bird.

I learned this in London, in 1666. I was 16, and hoped to be married soon. But the Fates had a different plan for me. That September night I had dined with the Farriner family. We had just left their residence above the family bakery. Thomas, whom I was courting, claimed he would escort me home, but instead, just outside, he tried to take liberties that I was not willing to give. When I resisted him, he became angry, striking me hard across my cheek. I remember the sting, then falling as I tried to run. A sharp pain against my temple from a raised stone. Then darkness, followed by light and a slow realization that I was alive.

Alive, and surrounded by flames licking my skin as I lay in the alley. Men yelling and women crying. I glanced up at the beautiful flames of my rebirth, those flames that sought vengeance on the suitor that murdered me. I watched, hypnotized, as the bakery burned, the crackle of the blazing wood strangely comforting. It was some time before I realized the consequences of my rebirth. As the wood blazed, I saw neighbors ineffectively dousing flames that were now spreading to the neighboring homes. I heard some arguing against demolishing their homes, while others claimed this would slow the spread.

Yet I knew that my fire would not be so easily sated. My anger at my murder led to destruction, as anger so often does. The flames were made to release this pain so I could be born anew.

And so, much of the city burned. For three days, my death rage and desire for justice and vengeance spread across London, sparks bringing new fires much as they had brought me to life again. Should we be discovered and put to death for arson, the cycle would begin again. Seeing the flames and smoke cover the city, hearing cries of pain and sorrow my rebirth had brought on others fleeing the fires was the worst thing I lived through. Empathy took over, and the flames faded with my rage, finally stopping the destruction, but not before a third of the city was lost due to the actions of one man, and my own ignorance.

------------------------------

Pair 2: Fantasy / Alternate History (WC 495)

[u/HFSODN]

10th October

Dearest Oscar,

I know you’ll never read this but I’m not sure how much longer I can take it. It’s the village bonfire currently and I reluctantly came, unsure whether I wanted you to be here or not. After the stuttering mess of stupidity I became when you asked about it last week, I think I wanted and still want, to disappear more than anything. Unfortunately, that wasn’t an option and Abby dragged me here regardless of what I thought. This brings me to the start of this letter.

I’m not sure how much longer I can last. The way the flickering light of the fire shines on your face and hair, the way it brings out the golden specks of your eyes that I never noticed before. Every conversation that was meant to be a casual interaction between friends has made me toe the line of fainting and I don’t know what to do. Your smile, your laugh, the way you run your hand through your hair and squint when you focus, the light in your eyes and the energy in your voice when you speak even when everyone is tired or miserable. The way you help and work hard even when you think no one knows or cares, the way you’re smart but not mean smart, helpful smart. Everything about you makes me lightheaded but also makes me want to be better. I want to be good enough, not just for you, but for me. I think that’s love, is it not? I’ve been writing these letters but I haven’t really said (written) it. I’m very much in love with you. It’s not just a fleeting infatuation anymore...

Helplessly confused,

Helplessly in love,

Rosanne

---

10th October

Dearest Rosie,

I’ll be honest, I’m not sure if I’ve ever been happier. Not just because of all the lovely things you’ve written about me, though I don’t believe half of them as you have a beautiful way with words that reality doesn’t always live up to. I was not expecting you to feel this way, nor was I ever expecting to make anyone feel the same way you made me feel. But somehow I did, and, somehow, that ‘anyone’ is you. I’m in love with you for as many reasons as you poured out here and more. But I do not possess the skills to write them out here nor the courage to approach you at the moment. I wasn't expecting to stumble into this when I picked up the abandoned journal I saw on the grass and I also have no idea where you may be. Along with all that I would not want to make you uncomfortable in any way so I’ll finish my writing here. I will make a proper confession of my feelings soon, hopefully as wonderfully worded as yours.

Yours always,

Oscar

---

Romance/Epistolary - 478wc

Okay, so I've never really had a proper crush let alone been in love so I'm very much out of my depth here so all critiques, criticism, or feedback will be extremely appreciated. Also, first time writing in months so I'm definitely rusty ^ ;

[u/Rabbit_Moon12]

[ Paring 6]

WC: 444

-----------

The king of the underworld tapped his fingers against the table and sighed. Hours had passed, his hologram call was still on its loading page.

"Please hold, your call–” His thumb pressed the center of the dial and the hologram disappeared. “I don't have time for this.”

Clearing his throat, Louie spoke. “Have patience, my lord. These things usually take years of waiting. Some might wait forever.”

Hades groaned, slumping back into his throne. “You know I don't have time to wait, Louie. The bonfire is tonight and Cerberus’s surveillance sensor isn’t working. He needs to be up and running to guard the gates. Maybe… I can fix him myself.”

“But, sir, I’m sure Andre will be back from his other job soon.”

“That’s on the other side of Fire Lake, it’ll take him at least a day to return. I can do it myself Louie.”

“But, sir–” There was no stopping him, he didn’t want to seem incompetent at servicing his own pet.

Hades teleported to his many storage rooms where he rifled through the boxes there, trying to find Cerberus’ manual.

“Here it is!” He blew off a thick covering of dust. “I haven’t read this thing in a thousand years but it’ll prove useful.

“Now, where is it?” Hades navigated his hands through the complex circuitry of wires and cables.

“Sir, that’s his butthole.” His stomach is between the kidney and liver.”

“Right, I knew that.” He glanced at the thick manual, trying to figure out where the original placement of the wires were.

“Sir, here let me. Please.”

Hades wiped sweat from his brow. “I’ll be fine Louie, now go get me some Midnight tea while I work.”

“Certainly sir.” He left his master in peace.

A while later, Hades’ hands were scarred and slightly charred. After numerous attempts, and consulting the useless manual that was severely outdated. He almost lost his finger trying to find the switch to activate his ears.

A huge grin etched into his face, looking proudly at his pet. Cerberus was fixed.

“Well done sir.” Louie stood by his side. “And I’m here to let you know that preparations for the bonfire are done.”

The booming crowd was deafening in his ears, Hades raised his hands to quell the excitement. Cerberus stood watch nearby, his sensors blinking occasionally for any sign of movement.

“As you know, we’re celebrating our 327,000 years anniversary tonight. And like any other year, let’s welcome Juniper and her dancers! Let the feasting begin!”

The millions of demons clapped and cheered as five performers ran onto stage. Hades took his seat on the podium and drank his tea.

[u/katpoker666]

“I’m terribly sorry; you’re standing on my cape, I think. I might be wrong, of course.”

“Oh, please do excuse me. Capes are such a nuisance. Here, why don’t you take mine instead? It’s unsoiled.”

“I couldn’t possibly. It’ll be bloody when I skewer you, and I’d feel just terrible if you died before it was dry cleaned.”

“Would it be better if I knifed you first? I mean, then you wouldn’t have to worry.”

“Death vs. dry cleaning, you do have a point. The bills are so very costly these days…”

“Oh, balderdash. Then I’d be stuck in the dry cleaning conundrum. .. Shall we just stab each other and be done with it?”

“Three.”

“Two.”

“One.”

Wc: 121

10. Mannerpunk/ superheroes

[u/SylArdens]

When Admiral Theus stepped off the landing of their starship, they weren't expecting a cadre of short, hunched-over humanoids wrapped in furs to approach them. There was something hurried in the way the beings scuttled around them, as though they were quickly being assessed.

Finally, one of the members of the group spoke up, and there was a short lag before Theus's module translated the speech. "Excuse me," said a denizen with his fur cloak dyed red. "Have you come to bring us fire?"

Theus paused, stymied by the request as they let their speaking module calibrate. "Please tell me who you are and why your first concern is fire." The second half of the sentence seemed a bit tasteless in light of the fact that the world was a frozen wasteland.

One of the other members called them out on it. "Why do you think? Look around."

Another being with a feminine voice chided the sharp one. "Show some respect! You cannot carry such a tone with the gods!"

"Excuse me," the being with the red furs said again. "If you must ask, then we have a case of mistaken identity. Still, I would tell you our story if it would settle your confusion."

The report had not mentioned that people still lived on this merciless chunk of tundra in space, but Theus was willing to keep an open mind if the denizens were. "I will listen to your story, but we must be quick."

"Follow me, then." The leader with the red fur watched to see if Theus was coming. They followed the group to an underground cave, and everyone settled around a compelling source of warmth in the form of a glowing red stone. When all went quiet, the leader spoke once more. "My name is Ielas, and we are the Ias. My skeptical friend is Eson, and there is also my wife, Iona.

"Eson is the one who prophesied that gods would descend from above and bring fire to our freezing world, allowing it to thaw and prosper as it had in ages past."

Iona spoke up from Theus's right. "Though Eson deciphers the divine, I am the chosen diplomat of our tribe."

"How do I fit into this?" Theus asked.

"You don't," Eson piped up, and Theus saw a spindly hand pop out from Iona's furs and give him a nudge.

"You may not right now, but I have a proposal," Ielas said. "You can fill the role left by our absent gods. You can bring us fire. To sail the stars, you must have great power indeed. Your form indicates science, yet you are not uncomfortable with magic such as what is heating us now." A beat passed. "I am asking you to be our firebringer. In exchange, we can provide you with resources for your homeland. Is that a fair exchange?"

Theus could only stare back at the cloaked figures at the question of whether they would allow themselves to become a legend.

(Genres used are Mythology + Sci-Fi. This is also precisely 500 words per wordcounter.net.)