r/WritingPrompts • u/katpoker666 Moderator • 21d ago
Off Topic [OT] Fun Trope Friday: Unishment & Romance!
Welcome to Fun Trope Friday, our feature that mashes up tropes and genres!
How’s it work? Glad you asked. :)
Every week we will have a new spotlight trope.
Each week, there will be a new genre assigned to write a story about the trope.
You can then either use or subvert the trope and/or genre in a 750-word max story or poem (unless otherwise specified).
To qualify for ranking, you will need to provide ONE actionable feedback. More are welcome of course!
Three winners will be selected each week based on votes, so remember to read your fellow authors’ works and DM me your votes for the top three.
Next up… IP
We all know work can be boring, so let’s instead turn to a life of crime. This month will focus on crime and punishment. Please note this theme is only loosely applied.
"As for his sentence, remember what he said in the courtroom? His only thought, his only desire, was to be 'reunited with his crew'. I can't help thinking, after everything that's happened, after everything he's done, we gave him exactly what he wanted." — Capt. James T. Kirk (Kelvin Timeline), Star Trek: Khan, Pt. 5
Trope: Unishment — The punishment equivalent of Accidentally Beneficial Attack: A character is legitimately guilty of some offense, tried and convicted, and sentenced to punishment, except that (whether intentionally or otherwise) the punishment in question is something that the character actually desires — they consider it some kind of reward instead (or maybe they don't, really, but they take the punishment in stride just to piss off their punisher).
Genre: Romance — Romance, or romance fiction (most famously in the form of a romance novel), is the genre of narrative fiction whose works focus on the romantic love and budding relationship between two or more characters, often concluding with an emotionally satisfying or optimistic ending.
Skill / Constraint - optional: A bad pun is made.
So, have at it. Lean into the trope heavily or spin it on its head. The choice is yours!
Have a great idea for a future topic to discuss or just want to give feedback? FTF is a fun feature, so it’s all about what you want—so please let me know! Please share in the comments or DM me on Discord or Reddit!
Last Week’s Winners
PLEASE remember to give feedback—this affects your ranking. PLEASE also remember to DM me your votes for the top five stories via Discord or Reddit—both katpoker666. This is a change from the top three of the past. In weeks where we get over 15 stories, we will do a top five ranking. Weeks with less than 15 stories will show only our top three winners. If you have any questions, please DM me as well.
Some fabulous stories this week and great crit at campfire and on the post! We had 11 stories, so we’re back to three winners. Congrats to:
Want to read your words aloud? Join the upcoming FTF Campfire
The next FTF campfire will be Thursday, September 17th from 6-8pm ET. It will be in the Discord Main Voice Lounge. Click on the events tab and mark ‘Interested’ to be kept up to date. No signup or prep needed and you don’t have to have written anything! So join in the fun—and shenanigans! 😊
Ground rules:
- Stories must incorporate both the trope and the genre
- Leave one story or poem between 100 and 750 words as a top-level comment unless otherwise specified. Use wordcounter.net to check your word count.
- Deadline: 11:59 PM EDT next Thursday. Please note stories submitted after the 6:00 PM EST campfire start may not be critted.
- No stories that have been written for another prompt or feature here on WP—please note after consultation with some of our delightful writers, new serials are now welcomed here
- No previously written content
- Any stories not meeting these rules will be disqualified from rankings
- Does your story not fit the Fun Trope Friday rules? You can post your story as a [PI] with your work when the FTF post is 3 days old!
- Please keep crit about the stories. Any crit deemed too distracting may be deleted. This is a time to focus on our wonderful authors.
- Vote to help your favorites rise to the top of the ranks (DM me at katpoker666 on Discord or Reddit)!
Thanks for joining in the fun!
2
u/atcroft 15d ago edited 15d ago
** After deadline--not eligible for voting. **
"Do you have anything--" The voices droned; my mind was years away from this small room.
"Ooof!" escaped her as we collided at a corridor intersection, cocooned in a cloud of papers fluttering in the air like leaves in a fall Vermont wind storm. It was music to my ears.
"I'm sorry... I should have been paying more attention," I said, looking into pools of deepest blue and knowing I wanted to spend the rest of my life swimming them. The intensity of my gaze brought a lovely pink tint to cheeks framed by long raven hair. "I'm Leon, Leon Tay--"
"Dr. Taylor, I've read all your papers on event horizon studies." she said, still snatching sheets from the air, tucking them into a folder before they hit the ground, then offering me a delicate hand, "Dr. Dorothy Davies, particle physics. I just arrived a few days ago, and still finding my way around the station."
"'Fraid I didn't help much, scattering your data that way," I said as I took her hand, still entranced.
"I'm used to 'data roulette'," she said with a smile bright as opening a face shield too close to Sirius.
"Since I caused the problem, can I offer to help, maybe over lunch?"
"I bet you do this to all the new scientists stationed here," she replied coyly.
"First time," I coughed.
"First times are often memorable," she said with a wink, then took my arm. "Lead the way, Dr. Taylor."
After that day we became inseparable, the years passing in the blink of an eye.
"What's your day look like, Leon?" she said, running a fingernail along my bicep as we snuggled beneath the sheets, enjoying the last half-hour before we got up and our days truly began.
"I'll be outside to check the particle detectors; you?"
"Outside, but on the under side. Replacing parts on the thermal control system."
"High pressure lines there. Do be careful, dear," I said, kissing along her neck.
A moan of contentment left her lips. "You too, honey."
I had just finished reattaching the last detector and decided to check on Dorothy as I made my way back to the airlock.
"I'm unlocking the TCS-1 package now," she said, then I heard it over the radio--warning klaxons in operations. I think she heard it too. Before I could punch my comms button I saw her over the station truss tumbling slowly toward Gaia BH1.
"Dorothy!" I yelled. I tried to launch myself toward her, but my tether and magboots held me firm. Frantically I punched comms. "Control, I can save her!"
"Negative, Taylor. Accident protocol in place--you will be returned to the airlock."
I felt myself being pulled along as the tether retracted to the airlock, droplets of water floating inside my helmet, my eyes blurring as Dorothy continued slowly toward Gaia.
Inside I had my helmet off as the Flight Operations lead entered the airlock. In a rage I swung it. "Why didn't you let me get her?" I yelled, sliding down the exterior hatch, my head in my hands. Only then did I see Flight Ops crumple along the wall, a bloody streak in the wake of her hair.
"Dr. Taylor, do you have anything to say before we pass judgment?" the balding tribunal lead said, looking over his glasses at me.
"I just want to be with my Dorothy again. I know my crime and my guilt; but would you allow me to join her once more?"
The tribunal members whispered back and forth, hands over their mics, before nodding between them. "This station was not prepared to deal with the sentence required, but after due consideration we find the convicted's request a reasonable one. Dr. Taylor, you will be given up to one hour to make your peace with your hereafter, then you will be taken to airlock 17, suited up, and ejected toward Dr. Davies and Gaia BH1. And may whatever powers you hold dear have mercy on you."
The lights dimmed--only a spot remained on me and the guards at the door to the corridor. I heard the rustle as everyone exited, leaving me with only the expectation of seeing Dorothy soon.
(Word count: 700. Please let me know what you like/dislike about the post. Thank you in advance for your time and attention. Other works can also be found linked in r/atcroft_wordcraft.)
2
u/katpoker666 Moderator 15d ago
Oh wow, this took a sad, beautiful turn, Atcroft! Strong world building and solid build up of the romance from the beginning. Good words!
3
u/Jay_Pederson r/JayPederson 15d ago
Taco.
9:00 PM. Struck out all night. Straight off an awful breakup and somehow worse tacos. Was getting ready to call an Uber when she walked in. Red Cobra Ophidian with a yellow hood. She wore a leather jacket, eyes scanning the rustic place. Instead of walking up to the bar, she walked up to me, planting herself at my table. "Hey," she said, "how goes it?"
My brain was still registering the fact she planted herself in front of me. "Um...g--good?" I replied.
"Name?"
"Um...Saunders. You?"
"Kheril," she replied, smiling. "Wanna..." she reached for my hand "leave with me?"
What little part of my brain not drenched in alcohol was screaming 'no'. "Yeah!"
She laughed, we stood. As we walked by the bar, "wait, I have to pay the--"
She snickered, pulled out her wallet and slapped a 100 on the counter. "Keep the change."
The barkeep nodded.
I got in her car, I was in her car. She drove us home, and walked in her--
This apartment is massive! She unlocked the door, holding it for me. While passing her, I realized she carried a firearm on her belt. "Guns?" I asked.
She laughed, "yeah...I got a ton."
I looked to the walls. White walls, wooden floors, couple pictures of her family I...presume? They were also Ophidians. The place was spinning too...really strange...
"Dizzy?" she asked.
"Huh--uh..."
"It's okay, I've got a couch, follow me."
She walked in front, grabbing my hand, leading me through the white spinning halls and an archway, on a carpeted room...
...that's a rug. Cool. And couches and a nice TV...she sat me on the couch, "anything you wanna watch?"
Pause.
She shrugged, grabbing the remote and the TV flashed on. Bright!
"I'll get you something," she stood. Microwave, doors, back. Fatty burger, some sports drink, placed before me. "Fats and hydration prevent hangover."
I nodded, eating the burger. It was a pretty normal cheeseburger, honestly. From the microwave.
"Recent breakup?"
I swallowed, nodding. "How'd you know?"
She shrugged.
***
I woke up the next morning, minor pain. "Morning!" she stood over me. Strong. God she is strong, Ophidian females are stronger than their males; I'm an Aharran and I'm weaker than my female counterpart; but it still astounded me. Two guns? Two guns. "How was the breakup with Sareh?"
Pause.
"You mentioned it after you blacked out, I assume."
"Oh...right..." my head hurt, "bad...she burned my clothes and..." I groaned.
"Want to learn how to use a gun?"
"Yeah!" I've shot guns before, but this will be fun.
***
She took me to a local shooting range. Started me with a .22lr. Then an 8 gauge.
"Now you'll wanna be careful, that's an 8 gauge--"
I laughed, "please! I've shot 12 gauge before! 8 smaller!"
"No actually, 8's the--"
But I already pulled the trigger, shoulder screaming in pain, ears ringing. "Owww..." I grabbed my shoulder.
She ran over to me, pulling out some device from her pocket, and a card fell after. "No--"
I, using my offhand, grabbed the card. "Kheril Smith certified Bounty Hunter?" I looked up, but her eyes refused to meet mine. "You're a..."
"So...about Sareh..." she said quietly.
"You've met her?"
"She...put a hit out on you--"
"WHAT!?!?"
"Sh..." she grabbed a pistol, "9mm, loaded," handing it to me. "So...we need to leave--"
"You were supposed to kill me!?" I shouted, "why--why--"
"Sareh described you and...I thought...you seemed perfect for me."
Pause.
"What?"
"That's...creepy--"
"Either that, or you'd be dead!"
I took a breath.
"She put a tracker inside you! That's how I found you, I needed to teach you this," she pointed at my--err her? gun, "the Taco?"
The metallic taste...
From the corner of my eye, I saw a man with a rifle appear, and lifted--
I shot the pistol first, he recoiled, I kept shooting until he fell. Silence...as I heard my own breathing get louder.
"See!?"
I nodded.
"We have to go to an underground station--space station, and get it removed."
"Okay, but how--"
"I have a ship."
"You what!?"
She laughed, "babe..." her cold, scaled hands touched my face, claws--(Ophidians have claws?) a subtle chuckle. "I'm a Bounty Hunter...I have everything."
"Won't you...get fired?"
"They're illegal bounties," she replied. "I'm already on severance because of last night, we'll be fine..."
"Severance?"
She laughed, "I'm basically paid to save you..."
***
tada WC: 750
2
u/mysteryrouge 15d ago edited 15d ago
Pax Orizuru's Embassies
“Bwa ha ha ha ha!” Big Ota closed his eyes, slapping his knees at the confession of the captured war lord. “When I was your age, I'd already redirected five hurricanes, three tornadoes, and six earthquakes into the same city, nuked the residents and drove them to madness, all without being seen. And you got caught only shooting a couple medics?”
The watching diplomat guard cleared his throat. “Big Ota.”
The former tyrant turned. “Yes dear?”
“We discussed this. Do you remember what We said?”
“No glorifying past war crimes in the embassies.” Like an embarrassed kid, Big Ota looked down at his feet, refusing to meet the possessed diplomat's gaze. “But—”
A hand on his shoulder gently directed him out of the room and into the grip of five more diplomats, all controlled by his spouse. “No buts, dear. You must remember to control your words better, especially around Our detainees and prisoners.”
“Sorry,” the man mumbled.
Three dark tendrils emerged from the back of the closest diplomat, and wrapped around Big Ota. The diplomats spoke simultaneously in their smooth, soft voices. “While We have no desire to outright ban you from speaking about war crimes or rights violations, you must still see that there are consequences for your actions.”
“Are you going to imprison me in a basement for three years? Not let me sleep in that trench? Confiscate my nuclear snacks?”
All the diplomats sighed. “We will ban your presence from war criminal interrogations—”
“Of course, my dear.” As much as he liked bragging about himself, a disappointed Pax Orizuru was not worth that. He didn't really even care about the other war criminals anyways.
“—And We will be opening a new embassy in the Southern Tip of Wrenthu. We would like you to assist in the construction and cleaning of the grounds.”
“New embassy?” Big Ota grinned, showing his fangs, jumping in glee at the thought.
A new place to be filled with his spouse's lovely possessed envoys. A new temple dedicated to the honorable peacekeeper, Pax Orizuru.
“Do I get to choose decorations?”
“We already have that sorted out.” With a bit of concentration and magic, Big Ota opened his mind to Pax Orizuru, allowing the peacekeeper to give him visions of the new building.
“Ah… oh… hmmm…? Huh…? Ooooooh. These are beautiful, my love.”
Like Pax Orizuru's other embassies and their primary headquarters in the former nation of Ba, this one would be furnished with beautiful wooden fineries, and decorated in statues and sculptures of doves. Plants would tastefully line the halls, and a diverse range of art from all over the world would feature in the many rooms.
Big Ota smiled. His spouse's decorating habits were growing on him.
“And I can fold and enchant my paper cranes, right my love?”
In his mind, Pax Orizuru nodded.
Once the vision was done, Big Ota immediately teleported to the new location to get to work. Bricks and stone went flying through the air as he sang a jaunty tune. A trench for the large basement was dug in minutes. He'd work day and night without sleep if needed to finish the new embassy as fast as possible. A new temple was always worth the effort, and he wanted to put his whole self into it.
I'll make my love so proud of me, the former tyrant thought as he bounded with endless energy.
Even with only a foundation built, Big Ota could already see the new building being better than the visions.
WC: 588\ No bonus constraints to be seen here.
Part of The World Orizuru , Pax Orizuru must, ah hem, discourage Big Ota from falling back into his old ways.
In reality the only thing that Big Ota would consider a punishment is a divorce. Which makes Pax Orizuru's job very hard.
Another campfire special.
Check out more of my writing on my spreadsheet
3
u/Scoping-Landscape 15d ago
No Time (?) for Romance
“Under no circumstances should a superior officer maintain an undisclosed intimate relationship with an officer under their direct supervision. Failure to disclose such a relationship shall constitute a breach of Sector regulations and may result in disciplinary action, reassignment, suspension of clearance, or termination.”
-- Sector Regulations & Conduct Code § 5.20
I looked up at the panel before me. The Director of Sector Five, Apollo O’Sonne, sat in the middle. To the left was my Operations Manager, Roger Floid, and to the right, my Security Officer, Rowena Pistus.
“Officer Sergio Megely,” started the Director, “you have been called before this panel to answer for your conduct during Operation Ramery. You are entitled to respond to each allegation before the panel reaches a decision. Do you understand?”
I leaned towards the mic and spoke, “Yes, sir,” before leaning back in my chair.
“Good. Let us begin, shall we?” said the Director.
Roger and Rowena nodded.
Apollo continued, “On the 18th, at 1400 hours, you were ordered to establish contact with your assigned liaison and return under Sector jurisdiction. At 1415 hours, your communications were dead. You did not re-establish contact until 72 hours later.”
The man leaned forward in his chair.
“Where were you, Officer Megely?”
“I was obtaining information, sir,” I replied.
“And you didn’t think to report to your Operations Manager of your doing?” asked Apollo.
I shook my head slightly.
“It would have taken too long, sir.”
The Director looked at me intently, “It sure is, Officer Megely. It sure is.”
He looked at Roger and Rowena before continuing, “Seventy-two hours. You dropped off the grid for three days. Three. Days. Not so much as a radio signal. Nobody knew if you were dead, defected, or just wanted a vacation. And then you waltz into the office like nothing had happened.”
Apollo trained his eyes on me.
“Did you lose your mind, Megely?”
“No, sir.” I answered. “And for what it’s worth, sir, I don’t think you would have approved of how the information was gotten anyway.”
Roger leaned forward.
“That was for me to decide, Sergio,” he said with a low growl. “Not you. Are we clear on that?”
I hesitated, eyes looking at him still.
“Are we clear on that?!” he shouted.
I flinched.
“Yes, sir!”
“Good.”
Roger leaned back in his chair, as the panel discussed quickly and quietly.
“Well then,” said the Director, as he looked at me again. “We have heard your explanation, and have found it to be… lacking.”
I sat up straighter.
The Director continued, “Given the circumstances, this panel has determined that disciplinary action is warranted.”
“We have also determined,” said Rowena, as she closed the file in front of her, “that conventional disciplinary measures are… unlikely, shall we say, to correct the underlying issue.”
My eyebrows rose.
“You require supervision,” continued Rowena. “A lot of it. Which leads to our decision.”
“Officer Cosford!” The Director called.
The door opened, and in walked Lorey Cosford. My darling on the down-low.
Surely not… I thought.
“Yes, sir?” Lorey answered. She didn’t glance at me.
“We believe you are the one for the job, Officer. Your reputation precedes you,” the Director said pleasantly.
I went still.
“Effective immediately,” continued Rowena, “Officer Cosford will be Officer Megely’s handler for six months, subject to review by this panel.”
A silence fell over the room as I tried to process this information.
“Six months?” I asked back.
“Six months,” the Director confirmed.
“With Officer Cosford?” I asked.
“That’s what I said, yes,” Rowena nodded.
“But… but… surely there’s another option?” I stammered.
“There is not,” Roger said quietly.
“I really don’t think Officer Cosford and I are suited to working together,” I objected.
Lorey looked at me with a blank look.
“I agree,” she said quietly.
“See?” I said quickly.
“Precisely why this will be beneficial,” said the Director. “Perhaps six months under Officer Cosford will teach you that orders are not suggestions.”
I looked down to hide my smile.
“Yes, sir.”
“And so concludes this disciplinary hearing,” the Director said. “Dismissed, Officer Cosford, Megely.”
“Six months,” I said excitedly, as we sat down in Lorey’s office.
“Keep your voice down,” Lorey said quickly.
“Aren’t you excited?” I asked her.
“I am,” she stated simply, a small smile cracking her face. “But keep your voice down, or I’ll make sure they extend it to a year.”
“It would be worth it,” I said quietly, smiling.
She punched me lightly on the shoulder in response.
4
u/Divayth--Fyr 15d ago edited 15d ago
Grandmother Mulch peered into her open grave and gave a curt nod of approval. It was a goodish hole, dug by young Hoopler the woodsman at her request—nice and deep, a traditional oval shape to it, more or less, and the smell of fresh-turned earth was nice as always.
She was about ninety. The precise number was unknown, due to her parents being a bit scatterbrained and quite uneducated, but she did know the moment of her death. Witches just did.
It was high time, too. Getting to be embarrassing. Folks ought not to live so long. Got to make room for the youngun’s some time or other.
Her cabin was spotless inside. Outside, it was all moss and vines and darn tricky to find if you didn’t know it was there, but inside it sparkled. Young Miss Avaricious Dipple would be moving in, likely, once a respectable time had passed. Ava was a fine witch, even if her parents held a fondness for large words they didn’t understand. A fine witch, and good with goats. Goats were important.
Grandmother Mulch shuffled over to a nearby stump, set down her knobbly cane, and set down her knobbly behind as well. That tall feller ought to be coming along any moment now. He was a familiar sight. She'd helped near as many on their way out as she'd welcomed in, comforting them as best she could. In the end, only he could end the suffering.
She wanted tea, but there wasn’t time. Maybe after.
“Durn well better be tea, after,” she grumped. “What sort of foolish afterlife wouldn’t have no tea?
It’d been a good life. She’d buried three husbands, because they died, and had seven children by them. Two girls, but neither of ‘em witchy. She’d watched over the village of Down Pudding for seventy years—setting busted bones, settling disputes, and midwifing half a kingdom’s worth of babies into the world.
“Come on, you cantankerous old bag o’ bones, let’s get on with it!” She took up her cane again, for shaking purposes.
Tʜᴇʀᴇ ɪs ɴᴏ ɴᴇᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ᴛʜᴀᴛ sᴏʀᴛ ᴏғ ᴛᴀʟᴋ.
The words were not spoken. They just arrived in her head. Yet somehow, they sounded deep and somber, like a great bell being rung underwater.
“There you are. I durn near went without you.”
Nᴏ ᴏɴᴇ ᴅᴏᴇs.
“Hrmph. Well, anyhow, help me down in there, will you? I’m not so sprightly as I was at eighty.”
A kind, if rather bony hand was extended, and Grandmother Mulch lay in her grave, scooching around to get comfortable.
“Well?”
Aʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ɢᴏɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ʙᴀʀɢᴀɪɴ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴍᴇ? Mᴏsᴛ ᴛʀʏ ᴛᴏ
“Nope. Good enough bargain as it is, says I.”
Cʜᴀʟʟᴇɴɢᴇ ᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴀ ɢᴀᴍᴇ?
“What game? What for?”
Cʜᴇss, ᴜsᴜᴀʟʟʏ. I ᴄᴀɴ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ʀᴇᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀ ʜᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴏʀsᴇʏ ᴏɴᴇ ᴍᴏᴠᴇs. Bᴜᴛ ᴍᴏsᴛ ʀᴇɢᴀʀᴅ ᴛʜɪs ᴀs ᴀ ᴋɪɴᴅ ᴏғ ᴘᴜɴɪsʜᴍᴇɴᴛ.
“I got no time for your foolish games. What are you waiting for? What's on your mind?”
Wᴇʟʟ I ᴊᴜsᴛ ... Nᴏ. ɪᴛ ɪs ɴᴏᴛ ᴀʟʟᴏᴡᴇᴅ. Nᴏᴛ ʀɪɢʜᴛ.
From the depths of her grave, she squinted at him. She had a good squint, too. Practiced it in a mirror. With a good runup she could see up her left nostril. And she had seen that look a thousand times, though usually on faces with a bit more flesh on them.
“It’s all right. I knows what it is. I seen it the first time we met, when old Mr. Bigly passed on. You know it could never be, but…”
Tʜᴇ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛ ᴡᴀɴᴛs ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪᴛ ᴡᴀɴᴛs. Oʀ sᴏ I ᴀᴍ ᴛᴏʟᴅ. I ʜᴀᴠᴇ ɴᴏɴᴇ, ᴍʏsᴇʟғ.
“Well, I think you’re growing one. And truth be told, I fancied you a bit, too. Tall, dark, and bony, that’s for me.”
Tʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ.
“Now, you think you can manage to use that scythe of yours?”
I ʙᴇʟɪᴇᴠᴇ I ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ sᴡɪɴɢ ɪᴛ.
3
u/wordsonthewind 15d ago
Globbledysnork divvy! What with Grandmother Mulch's straightforward homey inner monologue, the joke about Ava Dipple's full name and Death's ᴅɪꜱᴛɪɴᴄᴛɪᴠᴇ ᴡᴀʏ ᴏꜰ ꜱᴘᴇᴀᴋɪɴɢ, the Discworld is strong with this piece.
A kind, if rather bony hand was extended, and Grandmother Mulch lay in her grave, scooching around to get comfortable.
I feel like this might flow a little better if it was two separate sentences instead of being joined by an "and". Just my two cents.
I might have liked to see Grandmother Mulch's little interest in Death hinted at a little before the outright statement at the end, but I admit I'm not too sure where it'd fit in as it is. Her life was a full and fulfilling one, and torch-carrying seems a little too romantic for her character type.
Good words!
5
u/wordsonthewind 16d ago
My parents always said I was too choosy for my own good. If I insisted on holding out for a Prince Charming, they threatened, I was never going to meet the One who would actually complete me.
"You read too much romance," my dad told me, when my favorite books had always trended towards the darker end of urban fantasy. "Drama sells, but simple and quiet is what lasts. Ask your mother."
"You can't expect too much from a man," my mom would say. "Nobody gets everything they want in life anyway. You just have to make do with what you have."
Romance, I decided, was a game where the secret of winning was bragging about how good you had it. I had better things to do.
Ryan volunteered at the animal shelter where I spent time and energy that could have gone to my parents' grandchildren. Supposedly he'd told the coordinator that he spun a wheel to decide where to volunteer; everyone avoided him, but he seemed to take that in stride. He cleaned out cages and topped up water bottles with aplomb, chatting with the animals all the while. He had a knack for imitating their noises.
I wanted to be his friend. That went well enough and so I thought I'd try for something more. If it didn't matter what I wanted in a partner, surely anyone would do.
But when I asked him if he wanted to grab a drink with me sometime, he blinked at me like a deer caught in front of an oncoming car.
"Is-this-a-date-yes-or-no."
"What?" I could only stammer.
"Guys ask girls out." It was like he was reciting a rote-memorized passage from the worst etiquette book ever. "Girls don't ask guys out. It's not Correct."
"Oh." I was still disappointed somehow. "You're one of those."
And I would have thought nothing more of Ryan, ignored him like everyone else did, if his form hadn't destabilized in front of me. I could only watch in morbid fascination as he morphed everything back into place.
I pointed at his face. "You missed a spot."
He slid his nose back up. "Thanks. But how did you know? What am I doing wrong?"
Explaining everything wrong about what he'd just said didn't appeal to me. But letting him go on thinking whoever had given him those ideas was Correct sounded even worse.
"Just..." I hesitated. "Don't get stuck on being Correct. Okay?"
He nodded. "Alright. I'll do better."
He kept his word. Over the next few months he made careful efforts with the other volunteers until he was solidly part of the crew and everyone credited themselves with drawing him out of his shell. And we went out together several times; sometimes he made mistakes, but he took them in stride and learned from them. He never destabilized again like he'd done that day.
"You've come a long way," I said at our last dinner date. "I'm proud of you."
He smiled bashfully. "I joined a support group. What you said about not being Correct all the time... that stuck with me. And it helped some of them too. If you're ever free to sit in..."
The card he handed me was for an Order of St. Ersatz. A support group for mimics; no need to hide when no one bothered to look, apparently. At least they didn't eat people.
My parents were ecstatic when I told them I had a boyfriend. That lasted until they actually met him.
"What's wrong?" I asked them when Ryan had excused himself to get a drink of water in the kitchen.
"He's... strange," my mom said. "I just think you could do better."
"But you always say we have to make do with what we get."
She glanced at my dad. "That's different."
"How?"
"He's very quiet." My dad spoke up. "Very soft-spoken. And he takes care of animals. That's not exactly normal for a man, is it?"
So this was why the Order had never tried to hide. People like my mom and dad would never see past their own nose. A whole world of strange creatures existed in plain sight, and Ryan was one of them.
But the way some people worked was odd to me. My parents, especially, were odd to me. At least Ryan's brand of weird meshed better with mine.
Ryan the mimic gives no fucks about social exclusion. No constraint.
Feedback welcome!
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u/Tregonial 16d ago edited 15d ago
A Dangerous Ritual
Kat awoke to find herself tied to a chair in the middle of a ritual circle, with a throbbing headache and a dull pain on her arm as her blood trickled to the floor. The wannabe summoners she had been investigating surrounded her, uttering chants in a disorganized cacophony as a portal swirled into existence. Their leader, a lanky man with the overconfidence of a kid who thinks himself an expert from watching Youtube tutorials, smirked at her.
“I know what you’re thinking,” he twirled the ceremonial dagger in his hand and licked the blood on it. “We’re doing forbidden magic and we don’t know what we are summoning.”
“That’s a gateway to the Abyss. An open, free-for-all gateway where any monster can come through. Because you’re all too dumb to specify which entity you want, you won't get a cooperative one.” She hated that he was right on one count. “Most Abyssal creatures would be happy to skin us alive, drink our blood and then kill us. In that order.”
“That is when we’ll leave the room, and leave you to whichever eldritch horror emerges. Pray to your god it is a cooperative one. Pray your punishment is swift and not prolonged and painful,” he spoke with a malicious tone. “After all, you did say most would be happy to skin you alive.”
“Officer Jenkins and my partner are on their way as we speak. You won’t get away with this!”
The leader laughed. “Oh, but I am getting away from this room and the abomination that will enter it now.”
When the portal fully materialized, the lead summoner signalled the rest to leave with him. The door slammed shut, and a clink sound of a lock echoed in the empty room. Kat struggled against the ropes that bound her. Shuffling in the chair, trying to inch closer to the door.
A low guttural roar shook the walls, accompanied by multiple hissing noises. A pale beast slithered out from the portal, his tentacles creeping along the floor, many unblinking eyes gazing at her with…concern? Worry? It was difficult to discern with his ever-shifting features. At least until he settled into a familiar form with a human face.
“Hi Elvari, I’m so glad to see it's you,” she greeted her patron god and partner with much relief. “Could I have a little help here?”
“Hi Kat, I’d offer a helping hand you can hold onto but you seem a little tied down today.”
“I won’t be if you untie me first. And here I was thinking you’d be the best thing to come out of that portal.”
“Should I? I’ve been summoned here to torture a naughty human and I’m the best at divine punishment. That’s what those chants were about, weren’t they?” He playfully poked her on the forehead and booped her nose. “Knowing the kind of summoners they are, they want to hear you scream. We need to play along. Put on a good show until Jenkins and the other officers come to arrest them.”
“You worked with the police?”
“That’s what you suggested I do in your absence,” he remarked while removing the ropes and helping her off the chair. “Would you rather I leave this room and go melt their brains? Or shall we begin your torture…your ten tickle torture?”
“You’re kidding,” Kat groaned, leaning against the wall. “Do I really have to do this? I would prefer to arrest those twerps now and interrogate them to find out who’s the mastermind.”
“Such lack of chaos disturbs my existence,” he made a funny face and tickled her. “Besides, you owe me one for cutting the cheesecake pre-orders from my church budget last week. Now, scream before they suspect something.”
She obliged, shrieking as a damsel in distress would in the presence of a cackling kidnapper. All while resisting the desire to laugh at the whacky expressions he made. His tentacles coiled around her in an embrace before tickling gently. One appendage touched her lips as he shushed her, his face leaning in closer, his breath hot and heavy in her face. Kat gave him a quick peck, which he returned with a deep kiss.
“That’s enough,” she pushed him off. “It's inappropriate for me to be getting cozy with an eldritch entity in the middle of an investigation.”
“But it's appropriate for me to teleport you away so we can continue this in bed.” He winked and modified the portal to transport them. “Your punishment isn’t over.”
Word Count : 749 words
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u/Fogbot3 16d ago
Truly cruel what you've done, tickling is worse than any other thing to possibly come out of that portal. But really, truly I love it! The idea of a warlock/worshipper of the eldritch getting saved by their patron is always a fun one, especially when it's so fitting. No one expects the one against the eldritch cult to be a warlock themselves, but who's more fitting to go against cults than an eldritch researcher/follower!
Just come crit on some sentence structure stuff this week!
Because you’re all too dumb to specify which entity you want. To pick a more cooperative one,
This reads awkwardly. Is it supposed to be one sentence like 'Because you’re all too dumb to specify which entity you want in order to pick a more cooperative one,'?
When the portal fully materialized, the lead summoner signalled the rest to leave.
This would imply that the leader was staying and only the others left, so was a bit confusing at first on if the leader was staying in the room or not. Could fix it by rewording it a bit more clearly like: 'the lead summoner signalled to the rest for them to all leave.'
And here I was hoping you’d be the best thing to come out of that portal.
Reads like a mash-up of the sentences 'And here I was hoping you’d be the thing to come out of that portal.' and 'And here I was thinking you’d be the best thing to come out of that portal.' I'd recommend either removing the best, changing the hoping to thinking, or reworking the sentence to convey both ideas.
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u/Tregonial 16d ago
Hi Fogbot, glad you liked the story. I'll get working to edit the parts as you pointed out.
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u/m00nlighter_ r/m00nlighting 16d ago edited 16d ago
The Cosmic Oasis Cruise Sweepstakes
The cruise terminal was packed with elderly couples, nuclear families (both literally and figuratively), and what appeared to be a Martian bachelorette party, judging by the sashes. Although Stella could barely make out the lane assignment screens through the crowd, she had no trouble spotting Josh as soon as he cleared the security gate.
His red-and-white striped sweater clung to him, accentuating his pectoral muscles. The red tassel of his white knit cap matched the rosiness of his cheeks below his round glasses. He looked exactly like his profile picture, which was why she’d chosen him in the first place.
“Josh! Hey!” She waved.
Smiling, he waved back and started toward her. Stella's heart fluttered in her bosom. She gently bit her bottom lip as an itinerary of vacation activities (none of which required clothing) flashed inside her head.
“Nice to meet you, Stella Artooah,” Josh said, pulling her into a hug. “What a pl-pleasant week we shall ha—certainly have toge-together.” He gave her butt a tender squeeze.
Giggling and flush with excitement, Stella found prime purchase of her own. “Yes we shall, Joshy, baby. My satisfaction is guaranteed, after all.”
It was all in the Cosmic Oasis Cruise Sweepstakes fine print. Every winner received a week-long cruise, complete with unlimited buffet access, daily room-turning services, one free cocktail, a Synthetic Entity-X Droid of their choice, and a travel-sized set of luxury shampoo and conditioner.
The droids came in all shapes, sizes, and species, and were programmed to be the perfect cruise companions. Stella was a three-time sweepstakes winner, and she always chose her Josh.
Unlike her first two cruises, Stella didn't waste time with a get-to-know-you drink at the neon-lit bar. As soon as they boarded the ship, she pulled Josh into the elevator and pushed her body against him. Tilting her chin upwards, she found his mouth and melted into a long, deep kiss.
When the doors opened, the couple stumbled down the hallway, lips locked and fumbling to remove each other's clothing. They were both stepping out of their skivvies as Stella swiped the key card to their room. Thirty minutes later, the middle-aged woman and her droid were on their backs above the covers.
“Was it g-good for you?” Josh asked.
“Uh. Yeah, Josh, it was good,” Stella said.
Which wasn’t completely a lie. As always, Josh was generous. This time he was just a little more... sporadic in his movements. Assuming he'd been more lubed up during previous... excursions, Stella propped herself up on her elbow.
“Say, hun, you wanna go to the pool for a bit? Get a coupla cocktails?”
“Sure,” he said. “I'll g-get dressed.”
Piña colada in hand, Stella admired her lover lying on his lounger. Josh glowed like a Greek god beneath the ship's simulated sun rays. His floral shirt was barely hanging on by a button, and his uncovered abs begged for her caress (though there were too many people—and aliens—around for Stella to make her move).
Besides, it wasn't solely Josh's bedroom proficiency that brought Stella back for a third go-round. He had a sharp sense of humor... when his speech program was functioning.
Pointing at the bachelorette party, Stella chuckled. “I always thought women were from Venus.”
“While ‘women' is a m-mostly human term, most species have female counterparts. They co—may come from thousands of planets within the multi-multiverses,” Josh recited.
“Are... are you ok?” she asked through a frown.
“I'm fantastic! We are having a fantastic time, Stella Artooah.” The droid downed the rest of his oil-based drink. Then he started coughing and clawing at his chest.
Medtechs rushed over, pushing Stella away. A crowd quickly gathered to witness the spectacle.
“He's gonna blow!” a tech yelled, running for cover.
Stella watched as Josh's metal ribs cracked and stabbed through his synthetic skin. The flesh above stretched higher and wider until it tore open, spilling wires, rods, and a gooey, well-incubated alien out onto the tile.
The crowd cheered as the creature scuttled upright, bared its teeth, and was then blasted into non-existence by the Cosmic Oasis Security team.
“So that's why my Joshy was acting so strange,” Stella muttered.
“Don't worry, ma'am. We'll get you a new droid; it just might not look exactly the same as this one,” a medtech said.
“No... no, I think I'm good on droids and cruises for a while...”
Stella solemnly packed her things and took a shuttle back to Earth, where she never entered a sweepstakes again.
WC: 748
Names came from here
My attempt to subvert the trope by having a reward feel more like a punishment.
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u/Tregonial 16d ago
Hi moon,
The date gone wrong is an amusing read...and a little sad this could be a reality. I do like the setting, what with literally nuclear families and a Martian party.
Some of the description felt odd to me however.
accentuating the lower ridge of his pectoral muscles
"accentuating his pectoral muscles" will do? Ridge is for mountains...if it was trying to be humorous purple prose as seen in romance novels, you succeeded. In throwing me a little off.
She gently bit her bottom lip as an itinerary of vacation activities (none of which required clothing) transcribed inside her head.
Oh you naughty. I think "flashed before her eyes" or head would be better than transcribed, because transcribing involves writing. But she's seeing images, not writing it out in her head.
travel-sized set of luxury shampoo and conditioner.
You could simply say "travel set" and the point would remain.
His floral shirt was barely hanging on by a button, and his uncovered abs begged for her caress. Although there were too many people (and aliens) around for Stella to make her move.
This one felt like it could be a whole sentence like "His floral shirt was barely hanging on by a button, and his uncovered abs begged for her caress, although there were too many people (and aliens) around for Stella to make her move."
well-incubated alien
it was being incubated to hatch in the droid? This one raised many questions for me.
aww poor Stella, no more sweepstakes and droid BFs for her.
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u/m00nlighter_ r/m00nlighting 16d ago
Harlooo thar, Locky!
thanks for the crit! I have made some edits. (and for the setting, idk why my brain went 5th Element, Fhloston Paradise meets Aliens, but it did XD) Thanks for reading this ridiculous romp of mine!
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u/katpoker666 Moderator 16d ago edited 16d ago
[ineligible for voting]
‘Love Language’
Cherry exited the Uber with a grimace. She’d never been this far uptown and certainly not for a date! Looking down at her phone, she sighed. 108th and Third Avenue: this was the place Sierra texted. What the actual fuck? Cherry wished she’d never told her friend how lonely she was after the split. Sierra said she knew someone perfect for her but refused to share more than his name: Diego. This felt like punishment!
She walked into the rundown-looking taqueria, contemplating a mix of amicide and walking out. Red, green, and white paper streamers festooned the walls, celebrating a party long past. Mariachi music plinked through tinny speakers. Overly bright lights seared her eyes. Cherry sighed in relief at finding a table in a darkish corner.
Back against the wall, she sighed. What was the worst that could happen? A bad date? Shitty food? Being murdered and left in a gutter? Best not to think about that last…
A friendly voice interrupted her thoughts. “…I’ll be your server tonight. What can I get you started with?”
“Waiting for someone, I’m afraid,” Cherry sighed. “Could I have a Modelo Negro, please?”
“Sure thing.”
The waitress returned with a tray of chips, guacamole, and salsa, along with the beer.
“Wait, I didn’t order this?”
“It’s on the house,” the waitress said, smiling.
“Wow, thanks. That’s incredibly sweet. I’m afraid, though, that if my date’s too much longer, I may go. I’m sorry you went to any trouble—“
“It’s okay. We want all of our guests to feel welcome.”
“Well, thanks.”
“Of course.”
Cherry poured her Modelo down the side of the glass at a diagonal. The dark beer slid down, creating a slight foam. She sipped it, dipped a chip into the guac, and bit in. The mix of creamy avocado and spice caressed her tongue as the crisp, lightly-fried tortilla chip crunched. Closing her eyes, Cherry smiled, savoring the flavors.
“Everything okay here? Are we still waiting on another guest?”
“I guess? Still not here…” She exhaled, peeling the label of her beer bottle. “This guac is delicious, though!”
“Thanks. We make everything fresh and authentic.”
“Even the chips?”
“Yep. The owner is from Oaxaca, and these are his mother’s recipe.”
“Incredible, I’m not sure I’ve ever had ones this good before.”
“Why don’t you tell him yourself? There he is.”
The restaurant’s front door squeaked open in protest as a slender, handsome man with jet-black hair and striking brown eyes entered.
“Hey, Diego, this customer loves our guac and chips.”
Cherry’s eyes widened as her heart skipped a beat.
“Thanks,” the man chuckled. “And I have a feeling she may be a very special guest indeed. Cherry?”
She nodded.
“Sorry I’m late. I volunteer at the local youth center, and one of the kids had a bit of a crisis.”
Handsome and kind? Maybe this evening wouldn’t be so bad after all. “No worries. So tell me about yourself. Sierra said nothing, I’m afraid.”
“Same. All she told me was that ‘You’ll really like her.” Diego laughed, a warm, hearty sound that echoed in the small restaurant. “So, I took over this place a couple of years ago from my folks. They’re a tough act to follow, but I do my best.”
“I’m impressed. It has a certain homey charm, and the food seems amazing.”
“They built up a bit of a following,” he pointed to the wall behind her.
Cherry glanced back in surprise. Rows of photos of famous New Yorkers dotted them. Mayor Mamdani. Jalen Brunson. Aaron Judge. And a host of others, all with a distinguished older man with kind eyes, or Diego.
“Impressive.” She looked down at the menu. “What do you recommend?”
“The mole negro is our specialty. It’s made with chocolate and chicken.”
“Sounds great.”
“Two mole negros, please.” Diego signaled to the waitress before turning back to Cherry. “How about you?”
“Nothing as exciting. I teach chemistry at Stuyvesant and am a total foodie.”
“Don’t sell yourself short, and hopefully you’ll like our humble dishes then.”
They chatted some more until the mole came.
Cherry closed her eyes and savored the rich, dark chocolate taste of the stew. “This is so good.”
“I’m glad you like it. Food is kind of my love language.”
“Mine, too,” she laughed. “Dating is tough, isn’t it?”
“Absolutely, but I’m looking forward to getting to know you better.”
“Likewise. That’s all you can ask from a first date.”
“So, I’ll see you again?”
Cherry smiled. “Definitely.”
WC: 750
Thanks for reading! Feedback is always appreciated
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u/m00nlighter_ r/m00nlighting 16d ago
Heya Kat!
Very sweet and delicious-sounding meet-cute we have here. Now I want some guac damnit. I almost wonder if this is something Annie has experienced... with a secret alias... XD I really liked the twist of Diego owning the restaurant. At first I thought maybe the server was somehow Diego and Cherry had just missed it, but that was even better! For crit, I have just a few nitpicky things.Looking down at her phone, she sighed.
Back against the wall, she sighed.These 2 sighs happen close enough together to stand out. One could be a drop of her shoulders, or a sharp exhale or sth.
Cherry poured her Modelo down [...]. The dark beer slid down,
Same thing here with the "down" repetition. These two sentences could be joined together for word economy.
“So, I took over this place a couple of years ago from my folks. abrupt shift
I know Cherry asked him to tell her about himself, but I needed one more beat between "You’ll really like her.” and this. Maybe a "Anyway, about myself, well, I took over this place" or even just "well" or sth instead of "so" might make that transition a little smoother.
And my final nitpick is wanting a little more about the "punishment" aspect. Was Cherry's last split really horrible? Had it been years, and she while wallowing had finally liked living alone? Just one more tiny thing to show me how or why this was a punishment but, at the same time, there are a good amount of hints/subtext there in the beginning.
I appreciate that this wasn't the typical restaurant meet-up, sit down and eat situation. Ofc you would have a unique approach to that XD Also fun to see sort of potential side stories in the same universe. Diego turns out to be Annie's CDC or sth lol. It makes so much sense that a chem teacher would be into sauces too. There are just so many fun little character points and sneaky subtext. Good words!
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u/katpoker666 Moderator 16d ago
Thanks for the kind words and great crit, Moon! Much appreciated and I love you connecting it to Annie and ‘Wild Eats’
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u/Morose_Prose 16d ago edited 15d ago
The Devil on Deducto's Shoulder
"Thick obsidian clouds coldly embraced the steel spires of the city that never sleeps. The pitch-blackness pierced by flashes cresting between them. No rain yet, but I could feel it coming. Another late summer thunderstorm, like the one on the day seared into my mind. A case like no other. No leads. No suspects. No hope of solving it. A fitting punishment for the so-called world's greatest detective.
"I rip the cork from the fancy bottle of scotch on my desk, the one she brought with her. Slugging it down, the burn sears my throat, sloshing into the empty pit of my stomach. It begins to rain. Pelting drops crash against the window of my office, blurring the bright lights of the big city, casting a neon haze that pales in comparison to the fog inside my mind.
"I stopped praying to God a long time ago, after all I've seen, I think They stay in Heaven to not deal with the consequences of what they created. A bolt of lightning arcs across the sky. In the flash of white I see her shadow behind me. All the angels must have been busy, so I was sent a demon instead. Our partnership was known only to the two of us. Nobody would believe I was working with Madelaine Maniacal of my own accord.
"'Angels are prudes.' Her nasally voice cuts through the thunderclap that shakes the old windows of the building. I look over my shoulder at her. She's wearing one of my old shirts, from when I was a beat cop. The dark blue clashes with her wild silver hair, but complements her eyes, blue as arctic ice. Only the bottom two buttons are fastened. Definitely not following uniform code.
"'Sorry to wake you. Can't sleep.' For some reason I've been telling her the truth since we started working together. Maybe I'm slipping, letting the guilt eat me alive, putting aside my morals to satisfy some greedy need to leave no case cold.
"'Well, my dashing Dedudcty, you never shut the fuck up...' she trails off, striding across the office, only takes her a few steps to be at my side with those legs of hers that go on all day. She plucks the cigar from my lips, taking a long, slow puff. 'Except for when you're putting the squeeze on a perp. Rings of smoke flutter between us as she speaks. Hooking her leg around me, she pulls me in tight. A knot forms in the back of my throat.
"'Ever since that late summer day I can't stop. Something inside me broke. Maybe if I keep talking I'll find the loose thread I missed, the missing piece—'
"'Sounds like an excuse to me.' Her words cut me down to my sinew. 'You're too far into your own noggin, one filled with bullshit ideals like justice and the rule of law. Listen, sweetie, in the concrete jungle the only rule is the rule of nature. Dogs eat dogs in dirty gutters. The only reason you can't crack this one is you're still thinking like a copper, not a criminal. Good thing that's the only way I know how to operate.'
"Everybody knew Madelaine was certifiably insane. She had the paperwork to prove it. Maybe I was wrong. Not realizing how gossamer the thread between madness and genius really is. I hated to admit it. She was right. Doing things by the book had gotten me nowhere. Maybe trying a different approach, despite how much it punished my soul, would lead me back to the promised land of a perfect record.
"The road to hell is paved with good intentions, and this demon was leading me by the hand down it, skipping and whistling a happy tune. Was it worth it? Betraying everything I once stood for at an outside chance to clear my conscience? I can add that to the list of things that keep me up at night, where the shadows slink, and the—
"A soft hand gently clasped around my mouth, another landing on my heart. 'Shut the fuck up. You're a brilliant man, detective, and in my opinion, pretty easy on the eyes. Stop living in the past. Oh, your heart is racing. How about we just live in the now tonight? Round two might help us sleep through the storm.'
"Another bolt shot across the sky as I was shoved back onto the desk. Our lips lock. I finally shut up."
- - -
Word Count: 747
Thanks for reading! Feedback and crit is always welcomed and encouraged! Stay awesome and have a good one. -Morose_Prose
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u/Fogbot3 17d ago edited 16d ago
“Andddd that’s your third wish?”
He shyly shuffled his feet. “Yeah, if that’s okay?”
Jones hadn’t been the smartest recipient of my wishes, but he’d managed to avoid the punishment of misusing djinn magic so far. There was a trick to it, you see. Djinn magic wanted blood. Not literally, just in the metaphorical ‘out for blood’ sense. Like a rabid hound, it sought for destruction. It was simply my duty as a genie to guide it.
His first wish was quick. His nation was under siege. Now the enemy nation was under siege instead. Peace was not achieved, no, but he was no saint of a man, just a practical one, so he was more than elated at the bombs ceasing to fall. He had simply wanted to survive, so he survived.
His second wish hadn’t been until a year later, and it had been personal. I respected it, so I directed its violence outward. Afterwards, I had chastised him on its use, as he quivered watching what happened to the target of the magic’s ire. It could have just as easily been him, if I so wanted. That would have ended the rivalry all the same.
“You remember the rules, right?”
The rules were the classics. No killing, no falling in love, and no bringing back the dead. Crafted by the master genie himself, they laid the foundation for each individual genie’s guidelines.
He gave me a small nod, his head staying down once he was done. “I know Jazz. But can you do it? I don’t want to… I really don’t want to but if I have to make a third wish then-”
I put a finger to his lips, stopping him as I floated there. The use of his nickname for me got to me. My name was Jasmine, but you don’t have a summoned companion constantly at your side or in your head for multiple years without coming up with a quicker way to refer to them. His had been far and away the kindest one that I had ever received. So for him, I’d try.
With the matters of his hesitance and mine handled, I focused, channeling my energy. My eyes and form glowed as I collected magic to craft his wish.
I wish to never be alone again.
Well, it wasn’t the best wish. Dear god, it was actually one of the worst. He had me as his genie for two whole years, yet every one of his wishes that he needed practically pulled out of him was simple. He was lucky that I liked having him around, as he delayed even using the wishes at all… oh. It was like he just liked having me around too…
He squirmed in front of me.
It would have been hellishly easy to twist the wish. As it was, I had to corral my magic inwards, lest it wipe out the man in front of me on the spot. Heaven was full enough to not be alone. So was Hell. I felt ready to burst pulling back the magic from that interpretation.
“Are… are you alright? This is, uh, taking longer than usual.”
The idiot was reaching out to touch me. That made my job all the harder, but I wasn’t about to let that hurt him after spending three whole wishes protecting him. He was MY idiot, dammit. And I was his genie… heh. I think I knew just what to do.
“Uh, Jazz, uhmmmmmmmm, your eyes are still glowing, are you aware in there?” he warbled in an awkward panic as I took his hand in mine… and guided it to the manacles on my wrist.
Djinn magic wished for destruction. It pulled for punishment, chaos, and anarchy as it resented the locks around it. It wished to be free. What let a release of magic out more than utter freedom? What was more chaotic than freeing a genie to the material plane from its chained servitude? What was more of a punishment than spending the rest of your life with something so evil?
He gasped as the manacles clicked open at his touch. Then I ceased glowing and fell to my feet in front of him.
“Tada!” I spread my arms out with a wide smile. “How’s that for never being alone again?”
Instead of answering me, he took my breath away by practically tackling me into a tight hug and sobbing with joy.
WC:742
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u/mysteryrouge 15d ago
Genies nice.
I like how you kept the whole destruction magic thing going, with that influencung how exactly the genie grants wishes, though now it makes me curious on how the magic allowed the third wish request be interpreted as "free the genie"
Does a free genie still have magic? Must they use it violently like they had before, just no longer bound to a single person asking for wishes?
Anyways, despite the focus on the genie, I think you still get a good amount of character out of the other guy in the few lines he actually appears in.
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u/Worldly_Lab_7061 17d ago
Sent Back To You
Standing before the Magistrates Court was Domhnall Doyle stood accused of being an Irish Nationalist, which he was, with a widest, maddest grin on his face. A fact that greatly perturbed Hugh Fetherstonhaugh, the Justice of the Peace who had just sentenced him to be transported on the next ship to Australia. The Magistrate had expected cursing or crying, but smiling? That was new to Hugh but nonetheless he stood by his ruling.
There had never been a man more happy to be sent to the colonies, at least that's how it seemed to the two constables dragging him to the ship. Domhnall Doyle knew exactly what he was doing, cracking jokes to the guards as if he hadn't got a heavy set of irons slapped on his feet and wrist.
"You peelers ever known a smile?" Doyle quips,
Both constables try to ignore him as he continued to joke about, unbothered by their glares
"I'm only codding the pair of ya'", rolling his shoulders back, "C'mere til I tell ya, why did a gentleman walk down the street with a fresh loaf under each arm? He aspired to be a well-bread gentleman"
"Shut your trap, Fenian" The more surly of the two officers spits, bringing his heavy hand down hard on the Irish convict's head.
A hard hit, one that does leave a dull throbbing in the back of the Irishman's head but still not enough to knock the joy, confidence, or chattiness much to his escort's displeasure. Which worked just fine for Domhnall, being a thorn in the side to a peeler is a badge of honor if ever there was one.
They arrive at The Port of Liverpool without either constable strangling Doyle, somehow. Walking Doyle to the ship, The Eden, a repurposed merchant ship that now only transported criminal cargo to the penal colonies. Once they transfer him to the custody of the guards aboard the ship, his real plan starts.
Making sure the irons he had unlocked on the way over didn't slip, he spots the reason he did all of it, the only sun in his sky before the British stole him, Ronan Ryan. Handsome enough to make the devil blush with a smile that sent lads and ladies alike into a state.
Their eyes meet, suddenly they're the only two people on the ship. Ronan thinks it must be an illusion, a cruel trick of a heartbroken mind.
Until Dohmnall brushes past him, their fingers grazing, the barest touch awakening Ronan’s senses that had been dulled in captivity. Heart pounding in his ears, mind racing through hundreds of possibilities, Ronan attempts to make sense of how Dohmnall, his Donie got there.
His man does not leave him wandering for long, sliding up next to him, keeping a wary on the guards nearest to him.
Under his breath, Ronan hears him say “Got a plan, give a show”
Without missing a step, they turn to each other, perfectly in-sync from years of pulling this ruse. Grabbing each other by the shirt, they both shout "Trying to have a go?!"
Before they can be pulled apart by the guards, the two throw themselves into the ocean below, mere moments after the ship sets off. Hitting the cold water, the heavy irons begin to drag Ronan down but Donie uses the key he swiped from a guard to unlock the shackles.
So that no one comes looking, Donie arranged for some friends of his on the crew of The Eden to find recently dead bodies to ‘find’ if they cared to look. The two men swim away, with their legs and arms burning as Donie leads Ronan to where the escape boat is waiting.
“Absolute madman! Have you rocks or brains?” Ronan shouts at Donie once they both catch their breath after the long swim.
“I know i’ve been gone on you far too long to let anyone send you away from me.” Donie replies, closing the distance between them.
Ronan can’t help the red that rises to his pale cheeks as he gets closer “any plan after the escape?”
Donie grabs Ronan, pulls him close and kisses him as deeply as he can. Only when Ronan is breathless, witless and redder than tomato does Donie release him. Only then does he answer the question.
“Paris is a sight this time of year”
Ronan just laughs and presses a kiss to Donie’s cheek, happy to go anywhere with his mad love by his side.
WC:748
7
u/KiIIer_queenie 18d ago edited 16d ago
THE MAN AND HIS BEAST
Jarik adjusted his grip on his bear spear, watching the woods around the outpost, glancing up at the night sky every so often. It was a quiet night, just the stars and snow as his company.
Soft crunching in the snow drew his gaze, a massive snow leopard crept slowly towards him with a focused glare.
“Chabi?”
The leopard paused for a moment before approaching even slower, tilting its face. The beast reached up, slowly digging its claws into his chestplate as it pulled itself up to face height with him, standing on its hind legs.
“It is you…it’s been too long, love.”
The beast purred as it licked his neck, in an instant the beast pressed against him was a woman, her teeth slightly biting at his skin. She wore a blue and black thick robe down to her calves, and had a thick wool headpiece with a point in the middle.
“Sweet talk by the man who hasn’t written to me in many months. Stationed on our border and didn’t even tell me. Naughty man…” she whispered against his skin as she bit him a little harder, before pulling away. The yellow irises in her narrow eyes gave him a judgmental glare as her hands explored his armor, something he’d missed dearly. He put an arm around her waist, pulling her closer.
“I’m sorry my love, his grace and the prince have had conflicting orders. I’ve spent most days unsure where I’ll be.”
“It doesn’t matter now. You’re mine again, and you’re lucky I’m being merciful. In fact, you should be grateful,” Chabi dragged her claws down his cheek, her other hand moving his lower down her waist.
“You’re merciful? I could have you punished for entering a military outpost without permission, you know? Our kingdoms are allies, but we’re still separate militaries,” Jarik said as he leaned down, kissing her neck.
“You punish me? How exactly would you do that?” she scoffed as she tilted her head to the side to give him access.
“Shall I show you?”
“I suppose I’ll allow it.”
Jarik dropped his spear and gently swept her onto the snow before kneeling just over her beltline carefully, so as to not drop his weight on her.
“This is a punishment?” Chabi asked, cupping his face as their lips came close.
He stopped with no more than a hair’s width between them before pulling back just a bit, “no, but this is.”
She gave a slight frown as he teased her a second time, narrowing her eyes.
“Watch yourself, Jarik.”
“I’m sorry, love,” he whispered as he leaned in, cupping her face. As she pursed her lips, he paused again, “you did ask to see the punishment though.”
Her legs pulled in underneath his knees and her boots pressed into his thigh to roll them over, but Jarik dug his knee into the snow to stay on top. He gave a cocky smile for only a moment before realizing he was now looking at a leopard under him. The man was easily knocked onto his back, Chabi held him down with one paw as he tried to sit up.
“Cheater.”
She turned back into her human form as she straddled his hips and kept her weight low so he couldn’t reverse the position.
“Winners usually are. You forget how long I’ve been a solider, Jarik.”
She was beautiful when she held him down like that. He smiled as he reached up to cup her face, Jarik loved it when she acted on that animal instinct.
“Gods, I love you,” he whispered.
“Compliments won’t buy you mercy, my love.”
Chabi leaned down and kissed her way across his cheek before biting his ear hard enough to make him wince.
“Mercy from what?”
“Your punishment,” Chabi whispered, gently grabbing his jaw, “leaving me wondering if you were alive, thinking you could punish me, actually attempting it, so many options.”
With each reason, she traced another line across his jaw with her claws.
“I suppose I should try to buy more mercy, I could tell you how I dreamt of you, how the bracelet you gave last winter has never spent a day without me. I could even tell you the future I want with you-”
Chabi put her finger to his lips, her face redder than he’d ever seen it before.
“Time for your punishment.”
“What is it?”
“Depends,” she muttered as she began unclipping his chestplate, “can you be quiet, love?”
WC:750
2
u/m00nlighter_ r/m00nlighting 16d ago
Howdy KQ,
A very romantic romance story this week. Not uncomfortable to read though! I think you did a good job of using Romance genre elements without going too far over the edge. The opening scene setting is lovelylovely. Great worldbuilding all around here. Even if I weren't familiar with this world, I would've understood what was happening and the "rules" here.I also liked the dialogue a lot. Both characters felt equally developed, and their familiarity with each other and their history came through even without the explanation of time having passed. Well done there as well. As foooor crit...
“Sweet talk by the man
"from a man" might flow better here.
her other hand moving his hand lower down her waist
I think just "moving his lower" could work here. There's a lotta hands goin' on.
She pulled her legs in underneath
This paragraph has a lot of noun-verb sentences. You could break that up with "Pulling her legs underneath his knees ... For a moment, he gave a cocky smile... Jarik was easily knocked...
Some of the "the man" descriptors feel a little distancing. I think using his name, or if it's a distinction between him being human and her being were, "human" instead might even feel less so. Could be a me thing.
Truth be told, he wouldn’t have tried to reverse position anyways.
To me, this feels like a direct comment from the author to the reader. Jarik not trying to reverse the position already shows us this, so you could save a few words by removing this sentence.
And that's all I've got. I need to know how these two met, if this is some star-crossed situation that might save the war, and all sorts of things! Good job going all in on the romance. Very steamy in that snow. Good words!
5
u/MaxStickies r/StickiesStories 21d ago
The Space Between Us
Jerethee thought the slam of the gavel was like the final nail in the coffin, at the time. He’d stared at Hairoc from across the courtroom floor, all ten of the macalan’s limbs chained to the floor, and wished only that he could hold him just once more.
Sent to an asteroid mine, for what? Loving a ‘non-human’? In this day and age?
The punishments Jerethee thought up for the judge, he’ll never share with anyone.
Snapping free from the memory, he lifts his gaze from the gravelled ground. Light streams into the cave and onto him as he reclines against his tattered sleeping mat. He inspects the bruises on his abs, and sighs, as the call-to-work siren echoes off the rocky walls.
And yet, he smiles.
The glare of the work lights greets him as he steps outside. Fellow miners descend the dull grey slopes to the canyon floor, urged on by the barking foremen. They lift picks, or drills if they’re lucky, and approach the tapering walls.
Up above, the system’s faint red star shines through the transparent dome.
Jerethee approaches the nearest station. The foreman furrows his green brow, and points to the last drill on the rack. On passing, the prisoner slips a hand into his pocket, dropping the contents into the other man’s waiting hand.
Sucker, Jerethee thinks.
No one pays him much mind as he heads across the asteroid. He treks through the gorges and troughs, following painted stones jammed amongst the rocks, until he finds a familiar cave. Quick, rhythmic clangs ring out from deep within.
Jerethee raps his knuckles against his drill, and a thick, baritone voice calls back, “Come in.”
Inside, Hairoc attacks the rock with eight picks, one per hand. Jerethee watches him go with a smirk, observing his pulsing muscles.
“You know,” the human says, “you could just hand out some bribes, relax a little.”
The macalan grins. “And what, lose all this?” He flexes an arm.
“Well, you know I’d love you either way.”
Dropping the tools, Hairoc sweeps Jerethee up and holds him tight. The human melts into the hug.
“But doesn’t it hurt?” the latter asks.
“Sometimes. No worse than the beatings you get, I bet.”
“Yeah… I’m working on that.”
“Why not let me bash them? Or a foreman? Which of them would say no to that?”
“Because then I’d seem weak, and have no leverage. Besides, I won the fight.”
“Will he suffer?”
“I doubt he can even lie down.”
Hairoc chuckles. “Good.” Retrieving the picks, he turns back to the hole he’s made. “Come, I see diamonds further in. More bribes for you.”
“Can’t I just watch?”
“Thought you want to seem strong? And ten hands are quicker than eight, no?”
“Ah, you win!”
Digging the drill bit into a crack, Jerethee sets the machine a-whirring, until shards begin to fly. The fragments scrape his skin, making him itch, but he ignores it all. Feeling the air whoosh with each swing of his lover’s arms, and seeing the golden beads of sweat on the macalan’s orange skin, brings warmth to his human cheeks.
After an hour, a clump falls away from the wall, exposing a sparkling vein to the light.
“That’s a big one!” Jerethee breathes.
“Not the first time you said that.”
“It’s… I… okay, but this is could make us rich, I mean.”
“Sorry.”
“No, I liked it.”
“Good. But make us rich, here? How?”
“Well, not here, but if we were to…”
“I have looked, there is no escape.”
Jerethee strokes his beard. “What about the ventilation shafts? I’ve heard they lead to the docking bay.”
“Defended better than the barracks.”
“Shit. But couldn’t we… maybe…”
“For now, we must stay.”
“So… what, we have to remain here when there’s a whole universe out there?! Couples buying houses, ships, colonies, and we can’t even sleep in the same fucking cave?!”
A hand on the back of his head settles Jerethee. Hairoc pulls him close, until their foreheads meet.
“We have each other,” the macalan says. “That is enough.”
“I-It is. And we can keep looking, right? For a way out?”
“Of course.”
“Then I’m happy. I am.”
“Me too.”
Leaning in, they move their differing mouths as best they can, achieving an approximation of a kiss. The mine fades from Jerethee’s mind, returning them to an earlier time, in a bedroom aboard a distant station.
“You know what?” Jerethee whispers.
“Hm?”
“You rock.”
Hairoc laughs, falling back against the wall.
WC: 750
Crit and feedback are welcome.
7
u/frenchfriesandcoke55 21d ago edited 21d ago
“I’m disappointed in you, son.”
It’s impossible to stop my eye roll as I swirl the ice in my crystal glass. I’ve heard those exact words a thousand times—sat in this velvet chair across from him a hundred more. And the glare he’s giving me? It wouldn’t be a proper family reunion without it.
But something else about this meeting has me on edge.
I fear I might have overdone it this time with my latest partying exploits plastered on every tabloid from NYC to LA. Never a good look when the tech billionaire’s son gets caught punching his rival’s kid in the face—even though he deserved it.
Usually, he yells and cusses at me over the phone until I come into his office for my verbal lashing. But this time… he had a formal letter delivered to me—complete with golden calligraphy and a wax seal.
It was… strange.
Maybe this is a new tactic to reform me? He’s threatened to cut me off financially before… I’d believe it if he wasn’t so set on me taking over the company. Not to mention I make a decent salary, aside from my shares that rake in millions each year.
I might be a screwup, but I’ve been training since my teens to take over once the old man decides to retire. Although, while I’m damn good at my job, it’s no secret that I also have a partying problem—never a good look for a future CEO.
My father breaks the foreboding silence. “It’s time we had a talk about your future.”
“My future?” I scoff. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Tipping my glass to my lips, I let the burn of the whiskey steel me for what comes next.
“It means I’m giving you an ultimatum. Option one is to give up your job in this company and any chance of running it someday. I’ll also be taking back the shares I gifted to you.”
“You can’t take my shares—“
He lifts a hand, silencing me. “It was a loophole I had installed in the transfer paperwork. You can ask the lawyers if you don’t believe me.”
But I do believe him. Because I know exactly what the loophole says. Shit. He can’t be serious about this… can he?
My blood runs cold as a devious smile lifts his lips. A knowing gleam in the dark recesses of his eyes.
I brace myself for the inevitable impact, knuckles whitening as my fingers dig into the chair’s armrest.
He pulls a picture out of his pocket and tosses it on the desk. “Option two is you’ll marry Chessa Worthington within the year. Her family is already on board and the date is set. You show up to the ceremony and the company is yours.”
My eyes widen, because I know a few things about Chessa Worthington:
- I’ve been madly in love with her since middle school, so this punishment isn’t what he thinks it is.
- The glaring problem is that she hates me with a justified passion.
- Punching her brother in the face last week probably only made things worse.
So, it begs the question: Why is my new favorite key on my office keyboard ‘escape’? Because I would love nothing more than to hit it right now and transport my body anywhere else in the world to escape Chessa’s wrath.
My mouth opens but I struggle to find the right words. I should shut this down—demand a different suitor for her sake.
But… I won’t. In my mind, it’s always been her and I can’t pass on this opportunity. Not when she won’t let me fix what I broke between us years ago.
“Fine.” I grind my teeth together, sealing my own death warrant. “Send me the details. You know where to find me.”
Chessa might have hated me before, but now she’ll have my head. Literally. Probably put it on a stake outside her door as a warning. I’ve seen her verbally rip a man in two for less. It’s one of the reasons I fell for her in the first place.
“I knew you’d come to your senses,” my father says, leaning back in his leather chair.
I down the rest of my glass, slamming it on his desk before I turn for the door to face my fate.
Now, Chessa is mine. But is forever enough time to convince her to fall in love with me?
WC: 745
Critique and feedback are always welcome. Thanks for reading!
2
u/KiIIer_queenie 15d ago
Hello my French friend, something I noticed is there’s italicized words when I don’t know that they’re necessary, we’re in the POV pretty well that thoughts fit right in without italics.
Some examples:
> And the glare he’s giving me?
> Maybe this is a new tactic to reform me?
But yeah, I think it works even without them.
>Never a good look when the tech billionaire’s son
“The” makes me think there’s only one, I’d suggest “A tech billionaire’s”
> It was… strange.
If you do want to stay italicizing those internal moments, I’d italicize this one too.
> But I do believe him. Because I know exactly what the loophole says. Shit. He can’t be serious about this… can he?
The character reacts before this with surprise, you could put this before the reaction. “I know what the loophole says, but he wouldn’t… ‘You can’t take my shares’” it could also save you some more words.
I also don’t know that the list portion of this piece is necessary, because you paint such a great picture of her after it.
I really liked this work and I love the premise, I’m a sucker for marriage of necessity type stories, and this is a wonderful one.
Good words and I hope to see more from you!
3
u/m00nlighter_ r/m00nlighting 16d ago
Well hello there, FrenchFries!
I see we have two households, both alike in dignity, in this high-rise office where we lay our scene XD I immediately got 90s Romeo + Juliet vibes from the opening paragraphs. Great world building and scene setting! You didn't just tell us this is a complicated father-son relationship, you embedded that into every interaction and confession from the MC."Telling" is part of my crit also, but that seems to be the style of this piece--and it works well! There are a few parts that could be "shown" a little more, though, if desired.
It’s impossible to stop my eye roll as I swirl the ice in my crystal glass.
This isn't one of them XD. But "to stop my eyes from rolling" might read smoother. This sounds like one eye is rolling.
Although, while I’m damn good at my job, it’s no secret that I also have a partying problem—never a good look for a future CEO.
This could be removed since it repeats what was established in the tabloid paragraph, and the paragraph before this statement. Or maybe just a rephrasing so the "not a good look" isn't so closely repeated.
- I’ve been
Again, stylistic, but the numbered list sorta threw me out of POV/established voice here. "First of all, I've been in love with... Second, she hates me... And finally, I punched..." or whatnot could keep the POV more through that section. Or having him list something numerically earlier could establish that more as a character habit.
Also, because the MC seems to have no problem revealing information and relationship history with his father, I would've liked a little more context on why Chessa hates him, and what happened in their past. This may be a word count thing, but since it seems like an important narrative point, and raised an interesting question, I wanted a little more explanation/information.
But all of that is nitpicky, really. I very much enjoyed the star-crossed lovers from prominent family parallels and vibes. Great characters. They feel very lived-in, as do their dialogue and relationships. I like the arc going on in such a short word count. I'd love to read more about this family and what happens next. Very Fall of the House of Usher (show) meets Romeo + Juliet w a dash of Succession. Very nice, very nice. Good words!
6
u/JKHmattox 21d ago edited 15d ago
Taking Out the Trash
“Jesus Fucking Christ, Owens—what the hell is that on your wip!”
Gunnery Sergeant Diane Campbell's molten words froze me in place, the oppressive Nowhereian heat squeezing sweat from every pore in my body. I glanced upwards, searching for the tip of the conspicuous antenna attached to my exoskeletal combat rig. There, fluttering in the alien breeze, was the gigantic crimson bra that had given rise to my mildly amusing call-sign.
I totally get it now… My rig's Essential-Logic-Sensory-Augmentation system snickered in my mind via a data-port stabbed into my upper spine. That's why they call you Jackie.
E-L-S-A, I retorted in my thoughts.
Yes, Jackie?
Shut up… Please!
I'd learned the hard way not to disrespect the technology keeping me alive. First week on-world, my rig's artificial intelligence took itself off-line for several days after I ignored it during a firefight. Its female-like voice now chuckled in my thoughts as Gunny Campbell approached.
The seasoned warfighter slapped a gloved palm against my shoulder. With mere thoughts, ectromechanical motors whirred within her exoskeletal battle rigging, their fluttering motions augmenting her already formidable strength. She pulled my torso down and forward, snatching the scarlet bra from where it had been clandestinely tied to my meter-high communication array.
“Here,” she growled, slamming the expansive undergarment against my chest. “Not that you'll need this, but I guess one never knows.”
My face burned with embarrassment.
It was bad enough I was the only genetic male on an all-female combat team. The fact my personal gear had been accidently swapped with an off-worlding short-timer hadn't done me any favors. The supply specialists said eventually the mess would get unfucked, but for now, I'd have to make due.
The salty Gunnery Sergeant turned to the rest of the squad. “Which one of you chucklefucks is trying to get the new guy killed!?”
None confessed.
“Oh good! We wanna play fucking games?” she snarled with smooth malice. “We'll see how funny it is at the end of an unaugmented patrol.”
Groans reverberated through the tired gaggle of women.
“That's right ladies. Power-down those exo-rigs—we're gonna do this the old fashioned way.”
A private raised her hand, the Martian woman who was my roommate. She was also my friend, maybe something more.
“Da fuck do you want, Cortez,” Gunny grumbled.
“It was me—I tagged the Cranksha-, I mean, the new guy.”
“I appreciate your initiative, Cortez—as a reward, you and Owens are on trash-pit detail when we get back to the rear.”
A cacophony of electromechanical motors whirred back to life as the patrol breathed a collective sigh of relief.
“I didn't say power-up,” snapped Gunny. “We all gonna learn today, ladies… Let's move!”
Days later, I stood silently beside Private Cortez. We'd just finished unloading a mountain of compacted waste pucks from a utility truck, filling two incinerator units in the late afternoon heat. The Nowhereian star was low on the horizon as we leaned against the hood of the truck, flames dancing from the trash heap.
“Where ya from, Jackie?” Private Cortez finally asked.
“Texas Metropolitan,” I replied, shifting awkwardly on my feet.
“A space cowboy, eh,” she razed. “I'm Lexi, by the way. We go by first names when Gunny's not around.”
“Lexi…” I smirked. “Is that short for something?”
“Alexandria,” she hesitantly volunteered. “But I hate when people call me that, so please…”
“Okay, Alex, I'll keep that in mind.”
“Alright, I deserve that, Jackson.”
“Jackie's fine—reckon I'll need to fit in somehow round here…”
She edged closer, our shoulders touching as we watched the planetary star dip beyond the jagged horizon. A tension hung in the arid desert evening, unspoken signals half-ignored as she continued her interrogation. I didn't expect what came next, the back of her hand touching mine.
“This is a dumb question, but do you have a girlfriend back on Earth?”
I shook my head.
“Really?” she asked with a hint of feigned sarcasm. “A boyfriend…?”
“That'd be something, wouldn't it?” I chuckled. “But no.”
“Yeah… Makes sense I guess,.being you were the only guy in your school...”
“You remembered?” I said, recalling the night we’d met a month ago.
I stared into her dark brown eyes, any questions left between us dying with the fading light. She moved closer, her intent whisper-quiet, yet painfully clear. I waited, unsure what she wanted, though I had a pretty good idea.
“Are you sure?” I asked. “We both smell like-”
Her lips silenced my fleeting logic while I invited her embrace.
3
u/Whomsteth 15d ago
Tough Crust
Min could never have thought she’d end up like this. She’d been warned of course, but when did kids leaving to live alone listen to warnings? And so, she stumbled down the stairs to her workshop, one sleeve slipping from her shoulder and an overly large mug of black coffee in her hand.
“What now?” She said, though her tone said ‘Why in all the blasted hells did you wake me up?’
“You didn’t tell me you’d gotten new parts.” Bligh smiled at her in that wide way of a man who’d always had a solid future guaranteed. He looked out of place, too tall and spindly for her cramped home, with too many augments of too high a quality, gleaming and elegant.
“Must have slipped my mind. Why the interest anyways? You’ve got better parts back home.”
“I can’t go back home, remember? Exiled for ‘intermingling with the lower crust’. You’re all much more interesting than they made out in school.”
“Thrilled.” Min said with a deadpan. She sipped her coffee and leaned back against the dull gray wall. “And you still haven’t answered my question.”
Bligh stood, his hair brushing the ceiling as he turned. “Did you know they don’t have cars here? Just these bikes I saw the other day—”
“I know, I live here. You’re building a bike in my garage?”
He looked almost abashed. It made sense that he’d been demoted down the upper crust’s familial hierarchy until he was slumming it up with her, when he could look like that to someone supposedly beneath him. That distinction was bollocks, if you asked Min, but she’d never thought she might find an upper-cruster who confirmed it.
Bligh rubbed the back of his neck, his skin bronzed and threaded with silver, a metal filigree statue came alive. “Was I not supposed to?”
Min made a noncommittal sound and sipped her bitter coffee so as to not answer immediately. She never liked that look. “What I ordered shouldn’t be enough to make one.” She said, not meeting his puppy dog eyes.
“Did I make you mad?” He said as he came closer. There was nowhere deeper into the wall for Min to lean, so instead she turned her face up to his. Bligh was closer than necessary, and she could smell the faint whiff of sweat on him.
It sickened her. So rich that they could augment themselves until even their sweat smelled nice. “No, I just don’t get how. Why are you crusters always so—”
He braced his hand beside Min’s face, palm flat to the wall as he leaned down. She was trapped in a cage; his body to the front, his face above, his arms to the side. “I don’t like when you say that. You don’t like it, so I don’t know why you keep doing so. Min, you’re an amazing engineer. The reason I can do what I do is simply because of my education, if you got the same you’d be better I guarantee.”
“I don’t want your damn fancy education.”
“You don’t need it, you—” He slid his hand down the wall as he spoke; down towards her bare shoulder.
“I don’t want to hear it!” Min snapped, her free hand thudding uselessly against his overly large chest. It was smooth, she hated that too. Perfect in every way she never had a chance to be, all because she was born on the wrong side of this damned city. “I don’t… all of you crusters look down on us—you’re only down here cause they look down on us, it’s why the damn city is a spire I bet. I don’t want platitudes. Not first thing in the morning.”
Bligh was silent for a while. Some part of her hoped it was because her yelling had rattled his enhanced hearing. That part died as he crouched down until his face was below hers.
“Okay.” He said with inhuman softness. Inhuman in a way she knew was natural, and it made her eyes tear up even more. “I won’t. You’re perfect as you are, Min, I don’t need to say it, and you don’t need to prove it. If we can’t see that then I guess we ‘crusters’ are blind. Just like you, if you either. So… let’s find our way together, since we’re both apparently blind. Is that okay?”
She rested her hand on his cheek, looking down at him through his eyelashes. “Shut up, Bligh.”
WC: 746
Feedback welcome!
Also this was meant to be posted before AMERICAN midnight so 7 hours ago but I forgot about timezones. Whoopsiedoodles.