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[WP] You are a corrupting sword and are… concerned about your new wielder’s willingness to be evil, deciding to try and turn him good | [deleted] | 1 | 0 | 26 | 213,302 |
[WP] You are a corrupting sword and are… concerned about your new wielder’s willingness to be evil, deciding to try and turn him good | I spit more blood and sinews from my mouth… Well, cross-guard, as the “gallant” prince plunged me inward and out of another unassuming villager. He had such a maniacally twisted look about him. His pupils dilated as he soaked in the pleasure of killing peasant men, always men. The falling embers mixed with snow and the smell of burning flesh and wood almost felt familiar at this point.
Plundering and pillaging were all he and his unscrupulous cohorts enjoyed. I was previously the sword of a king!
A man with a noteworthily regal disposition, his father. If his father was alive today, he would look upon his lad with shame and disgust. How dare he tarnish his father’s legacy and my metal! I am The Blade of Fate! I haven’t been polished in a fortnight despite my frequent reminders, and the Prince insists on relegating me to his frivolous rampages.
Every time I protested, he sheathed me and laugh at my muffled cries of reason. King Arthur had Merlin, and the heirs of the Obsidian Throne have me. My only regret since my inception at the Volcanic Forge eons ago by the hands of the Gods and the first of men is my absence in the boy’s formative years.
I recall little of his upbringing.
His father and I would seldom return to the Castle due to his interminable campaigns against the Southern Bandit King. I’ll never forget the day my master fell in battle. When he was bedridden and passed me to his son, I was initially hopeful because only those worthy of my power could see me as I am and hear me speak. But my relief was short-lived when the boy sliced his father’s throat with my edge to test its sharpness!
I mourned him ever since that day, and the boy LAUGHED at my pain! Such a remarkably magnanimous man to die at the hands of his most loyal subject, mentor, weapon, and friend. The pity of regicide because of that cretin.
No matter what it takes, I won’t give up on being wielded for truth and justice rather than bloodlust.
Later that night.
“Ha! Did you hear the old fool shit himself before I did him in?” The Prince said with a toothy grin to the men at the inn table.
“Ay, I’d be scared if I saw a beserking psycho like you on the battlefield too!” One of the men squawked.
“You took down an entire platoon by yourself. I’m just glad you’re on our side.” Said another infantryman.
“We all know your secret.” A scout said with a smile setting down his crossbow. “He wields the Sword of Galron. I watched the old troll himself kill twenty bandits in one swing in the battle of Redwall. He said, unamused.
“It talks to me too.” The prince said with a surreptitious grin, leaning back in his seat and sipping his ale.
“Is that so? What’s it say?” The scout asked
“Mostly going on about mercy and righteousness and justice.” The Prince said, growing increasingly annoyed at the thought of my lecturing.
“Wow, you really are crazy huh? I would never challenge your sovereignty”. A soldier said.
The scout stood up and raised his pint.
“To the mighty and indefatigable Prince Ash! May his thirst for glory and bloodlust never be quenched! May he feed many souls to the Sword of Galron, in honor of his father’s legacy!” The Scout shouted red-faced from his binging.
“AYE”! The men cheered as they drank.
I reeled quietly in the Prince’s sheath as they mocked the honor and integrity of their former king and my utility and purpose.
The men drank and ate until the village ran out of food and ale. The Prince took a room upstairs in the attic of the inn. He kicked the cracked door down and tossed me onto the floorboards like rubbish. I stared across at the bed the entire night, loathing the Prince. Dreading the next conquest, the next skirmish, the next slaughter of innocents, and my complicit involvement in these crimes. The Prince jumped from the bed in the nude, rushing to clothe himself, but it was too late. I would have blushed if I were physically possible. But the prince was a princess? We both screamed in dismay as I demanded she make herself decent.
“You know too much.” She said in an eerily solemn tone covering her breasts.
I protested as usual, but rather than sheath me in silence, she placed me under the fires of the local forge and set me ablaze. I felt every bit of fiery sensation and screamed in notes unfathomable to the human ear. I begged and pleaded as she continued to ignite me and stoke the flames.
And then I snapped.
“YOUR father raised you better than this! He was a good man!” I screamed in between the poundings of a blacksmith’s hammer.
“My father was a tyrant and a rapist!” She cried tearfully. She picked me up from the forge and stared at my hilt. The embers tickled her lips as she spoke.
I won’t stop until every man from every village, every lord, and every vassal has met their end. This is a purge, and you will facilitate this justice! They will suffer for their cowardice and compliance, and you will serve penance for yours.
“I won’t tell anyone, I swear it!” I shouted.
She smiled back. “I know you won’t because you can’t. My father was a monster behind closed doors. I must hear insolent fools hail him as a hero. I will not bear it from you, weapon.” She turned, looking toward the door. “The nobles only respect savagery, and I intend to deliver just that.
She spat on me and rubbed my blade with a cloth. “There’s your polish.” She said facetiously.
The slaughter of men that proceeded after my torture left me speechless. I have been silent ever since. In my millennia advising countless royals, this was the first delegation that I condoned revenge.
Perhaps she is worthy of the Obsidian Throne, after all. | 2 | 0 | 26 | 213,303 |
[WP] One is a hotshot cybernetic cop from the future who follows the rules. The next is a street savvy, magic-wielding elven assassin who joined the guard out of remorse. The last one is just a normal police detective. Together, they're solving a strange murder. | **Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.
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[WP] Many entered the haunted house. None returned. Time to call the airstrike. | **Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.
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Ever since you were promoted to Witch Hunter Captain, you made it a point to solve most cases through diplomacy rather than violence, resulting in a lot less bloodshed. Some of your comrades aren't too happy about this change, and today they decided to stage a coup to overthrow you. | Your submission has been removed because it is not properly tagged. Please repost your prompt, starting with a correct capitalized tag, enclosed in square brackets in the title.
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[WP] Ever since you were promoted to Witch Hunter Captain, you made it a point to solve most cases through diplomacy rather than violence, resulting in a lot less bloodshed. Some of your comrades aren't too happy about this change, and today they decided to stage a coup to overthrow you. | **Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.
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[WP] Today I Fucked Up by underestimating the intelligence of capybaras. | **Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.
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Jaxstyle Subathon 2.0 | Start din egen indsamling for Psykiatrifonden | Your submission has been removed because it is not properly tagged. Please repost your prompt, starting with a correct capitalized tag, enclosed in square brackets in the title.
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[WP] When you went on a blind date, you did not expect to see a dragon waiting for you. Still, it'd be a shame to have gotten dressed up for nothing so... | **Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.
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[WP] When you went on a blind date, you did not expect to see a dragon waiting for you. Still, it'd be a shame to have gotten dressed up for nothing so... | I mean, the signs were there, nails, the faint smell of fire, but most of all the eyes of a reptile. Golden irises with red rim and a vertical slitted pupil, including the third eyelid.
My commlink chirped as a message flashed into view.
SORRY, BUT IF YOU'D KNOWN YOU'D BEVER GONE. I OWE YOU ONE AND OWED HER ONE.
Part of me wanted to turn around and run, but seeing the establishment, the number of generic people having generic smalltalk conversations told me that would be a bad idea. Besides, my tux was already rented and my buddy owing me a favour would come in handy.
I sit down and unbutton my tuxedo jacket, adjust my emerald silk collar and fix my cuffs with jade cufflinks.
A waiter hastily approaches to fill my glass up and just as quickly disappears.
My date offers me her hand. I lightly kiss the back of her hand.
"Would I adress your majesty as Orange Queen, or does my lady prefer Hestaby?"
I speak softly, knowing better than to antagonise a Great Dragon and Keeper of Metahumanity. I know we are surrounded by her staff, but my profession requires a certain level of professionalism and discretion.
My date wiped a lock of Auburn hair out of her face and smiles. I don't see her lips move, but I hear her voice chrystal clear in my mind.
"Keen eyes with a silver tongue. I see your reputation is well earned. But please, tonight I'm not in any official capacity, just looking for a good meal and hopefully better company. Call me Hestaby. No doubt you've noticed we are surrounded by my staff."
A chef appears with amuses bouches and our date starts in earnest.
"Just a night in the town? I never dared to think you would like the banality of dinner and company..."
I smirk. This might be my last night as a runner. | 66 | 0 | 152 | 213,311 |
[WP] When you went on a blind date, you did not expect to see a dragon waiting for you. Still, it'd be a shame to have gotten dressed up for nothing so... | [removed] | 1 | 0 | 152 | 213,312 |
[WP] You are a delivery man, and you are inexplicably involved in a murder case | **Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.
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[WP] You joined a free tour group, but you didn't realize it was part of human trafficking | **Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.
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[WP] You joined a free tour group, but you didn't realize it was part of human trafficking | Hi u/star_Cora, this submission has been removed.
**Real-World Drama:** No prompts referencing real world drama (including politics, recent tragedies, etc.)
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[PM] Give a super hero name and his powers and I will tell you a short bar story of what invention I made to killed them. | **Welcome to the Post!** This is a [\[PM\] Prompt Me](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/how_to_tag_prompts#wiki_pm.3A_prompt_me).
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[PM] Give a super hero name and his powers and I will tell you a short bar story of what invention I made to killed them. | Hi u/Radiant-Ad-1976, this submission has been removed.
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[PM] Give a super hero name and his powers and I will tell you a short bar story of what invention I made to killed them. | Carl Masters, probability control. He can alter the outcome of any situation in real time. | 1 | 0 | 1 | 213,318 |
[SP] Why kill, when you can overkill? | **Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.
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[SP] Why kill, when you can overkill? | Wilt hated working with his colleagues. They cramped his style at the best of times and made it hard to work at the worst. He could tell this one was going to be the latter.
The man was a complete slob. He was sitting in the back seat, snoring loudly and using his large suitcase as a pillow. The only reason he was not an active detriment to the mission was that the windows were closed.
But it did leave Wilt as the sole lookout. The only pair of eyes open for their target. It made him irritable. Well, more than normal anyway. He let out a low growl and smacked the layabout as hard as he could.
"Wake up, you idiot."
The man, who apparently went by the insane moniker of Boomer, sputtered mid snore and shot up.
"Whassat? Wassup? Is the, uh, the guy here?"
"No, but he could--"
Boomer yawned. "Huh? Why'd you wake me up then, dude? Tha's not cool. I'mma go back to sleep."
"No you will not, you idiot." Wilt growled. "We have a job to do, and we're going to do it properly."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know. Don't worry, it'll be fine. The guy shows up, we off him, we go home. Easy-peaszy."
Wilt felt his eye twitch. How was this man rated so highly? Besides, this was a one man job. Wilt did not need assistance, especially not from someone like Boomer. Who, he noted, was already laying back down on that ridiculous case of his.
Wilt could not even fathom what kind of weapon was inside of it. His own case lay on the seat next to him, containing the sniper rifle that he had meticulously customized for accuracy and quick assembly. It was all he needed. It was also in a case half the size of Boomer's.
He was about to reply when a large vehicle lumbered down the road. It was about to hit the roadblock he had set up earlier.
"He's here." He said sharply. He grabbed his case and bolted out the door while his "partner" was scrambling to sit up and grab his weapon.
Wilt knelt and immediately started setting up his weapon. It took him less than a minute to get it set up, and another few seconds to load the weapon. He aimed it at the large vehicle and froze. It was not a car, or even a normal truck. He was looking at a windowless armored truck. He looked through the scope of his rifle, unsure what to do. He would have to wait for someone to come out and check what the delay was. And he would have to hope it was the target.
"Ya know," Boomer said. Wilt did not even bother looking at the other man as he heard the case opening. "I've got a saying that I really like. It's great at times like this."
Wilt heard various pieces of metal being manipulated. Things clicked and twisted. Something slid into place with a dull thunk.
Wilt sighed. "Oh yeah? What's that?"
He caught movement out of the corner of his eye. Boomer had set up nearby. Wilt finally looked at the man. His eyes open wide and he scrambled back, using his gun in the most inelegant way possible: to help his furious backwards scramble. His eyes were locked on the fully loaded RPG Boomer had on his shoulder.
Boomer grinned like a maniac as he leveled the weapon. "Ain't no kill like overkill." | 6 | 0 | 6 | 213,320 |
[WP] After Medusa was defeated you was put in charge of taking all the statues away. You went alone first, to acess the situation. But instead of the lair of a monster, you found a small cabin surrounded by a big garden with statues. And in front of each, a small wooden box with a handwritten letter | **Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.
**Reminders**:
>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include "[Poem]"
>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail
>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles
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[WP] After Medusa was defeated you was put in charge of taking all the statues away. You went alone first, to acess the situation. But instead of the lair of a monster, you found a small cabin surrounded by a big garden with statues. And in front of each, a small wooden box with a handwritten letter | I looked around, curiosity eventually giving way to worry. I'd been given the job of cleaning out Medusa's lair, taking all the statues away, all that stuff. There would probably be people who wanted to take over the area as land. I knew how people worked. They'd tell "the great tale of how they took this land from the terrifying monster," as if they'd ever swung a sword in their life.
This... wasn't what I'd signed up for, first of all. I considered for a good portion of time whether I should pull back, report what I'd found and leave the actual movement for someone else. But my curiosity prevailed and overcame what I could only imagine was my common sense trying to keep me safe-ish. So I made my way towards the cabin, gazing at the numerous statues.
What was odd was... there seemed to be two types of statues. One were the traditional "big shot heroes," swords, bows, axes, whatever their weapons of choice were. I'd heard stories, my friends heard stories, everyone had heard stories. They were all frozen in what you imagine when you hear about Medusa's stone gaze. Mid swing, shouts frozen forever in throats, petrified armor shielding cold skin.
But there were a few, and it was a remarkable few, that... weren't heroes. I almost felt I recognized one or two faces. Faces of people in repose, of people sitting or kneeling amongst stone- no, actually *carved* flowers. Someone made these very intentionally. There weren't faces of terror either. It seemed relaxed, often with faint smiles or such.
That's when I noticed the boxes. Not stone, either. These were wooden boxes. Out of curiosity I opened the closest one, a box by one of the heroes. There was a handwritten note in it, which I opened. It was the name of someone I didn't recognize, but the note said they were a hero of some sort. As a matter of fact, it listed a couple other things they'd done. They weren't a major hero like Achilles or... Hercules or whatever, but they'd saved a few villages.
The other boxes contained similar notes, at least in the heroes' cases. Those few that seemed happy were very different, though. While the heroes' notes were seemed to be written by the same person, those notes were written different styles, probably by different hands.
Those notes also had varying contents. Some talked about how they were just tired with the world. Others expressed a fear of death. Still others didn't want to grow old and withered, wanted to stay young and pristine forever. A rare few wanted to be reunited with family.
...They'd posed on purpose. They wanted Medusa to freeze them. Medusa had frozen mostly people who'd attacked her, but there were some who came here to intentionally to be petrified. I crouched by the last box I'd opened for a time, considering.
Then I stood up and turned towards the cabin. | 237 | 0 | 409 | 213,322 |
[WP] After Medusa was defeated you was put in charge of taking all the statues away. You went alone first, to acess the situation. But instead of the lair of a monster, you found a small cabin surrounded by a big garden with statues. And in front of each, a small wooden box with a handwritten letter | [removed] | 1 | 0 | 409 | 213,323 |
[WP] After Medusa was defeated you was put in charge of taking all the statues away. You went alone first, to acess the situation. But instead of the lair of a monster, you found a small cabin surrounded by a big garden with statues. And in front of each, a small wooden box with a handwritten letter | [removed] | 1 | 0 | 409 | 213,324 |
[WP] After Medusa was defeated you was put in charge of taking all the statues away. You went alone first, to acess the situation. But instead of the lair of a monster, you found a small cabin surrounded by a big garden with statues. And in front of each, a small wooden box with a handwritten letter | Argurios of Tartessos climbed onto the ledge, he looked into the mouth of the cave and, to his surprise, saw nothing. Realizing he had further to go, he continued. He climbed till he felt rich soil and grass under his fingers. He heaved himself onto the plateau and stood. Once he was able to focus on something other than his pounding heart, he heard birds singing. He saw luxurious greenery and flowers of every hue, and far in the back of the garden, a little hut.
Then he saw it, laying on its side under the shade of a tree, as if sleeping. A woman- a woman’s body, soberly dressed in a white chiton with an embroidered hem. The impression of modesty was heightened by the wing covering the left side of her body, which Argurios reasoned was meant to protect her while she slept. The woman had arms that seemed to be good for working in fields, her skin bronze from days in the sun. Argurios approached, he could scarcely believe the Easterner had killed her. As he came close to the corpse, he noticed that pooling from the stump of her neck was shining blood. The pool spread not as blood, but as a creeping thing, swarming.
Startled, Argurios looked up and about him, and saw statues, better than any he had seen, whether images of gods or grave markers for their chiefs, they looked alive, he could see veins and muscles, some were standing still, some had one foot ready in front of the other. He walked over to the edge of the plateau, to a statue that seemed about to walk backwards. Argurios looked down and saw a small wooden box. He lifted it, opened it, and saw a tablet with writing on it, he read, “To the one who finds this, I am dead, I go to face the monster, and I leave my wife and son, but I am doing what I must.” | 2 | 0 | 409 | 213,325 |
[WP] After Medusa was defeated you was put in charge of taking all the statues away. You went alone first, to acess the situation. But instead of the lair of a monster, you found a small cabin surrounded by a big garden with statues. And in front of each, a small wooden box with a handwritten letter | The first statue I came across was of a teenaged boy, standing out in the sun. It was on some sort of raised stone surface, but he wasn't really anchored down to it. It looks like he was set on top later. And by his feet was some sort of latch, with a broken lock. Glancing around, I didn't see anyone, and so I opened the little box. It was an old piece of paper, yellowed at the edges, but the handwriting was still clear. A glorious kind of penmenship.
"Michael" it said,
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, I swear. Before you went, I saw that look in your eyes, the blood dripping down from your face. I didn't know to blindfold myself, you came in the middle of the night! But I'm not blaming you for this. I should've done something sooner. But if it's ever any consolation, I got him. You mentioned something just a few times before, I should've acted sooner. Why didn't I? But...it's at least somewhat better now, I suppose. You were always better than him, you were always above him. I...want you to stay that way. You deserved so much better."
...it was an apology letter.? Did she do this on accident?
To be honest, I only grabbed the first thing I saw in there. Reaching my hand back in, I latched onto something that was sort of round, textured, cold. Pulling it out, I saw that familiar grey of the stone she created. And my blood ran cold.
It was a head, made of stone. This terrified look on its face. It looked like a man, mid forties if I had to guess. The hair was ruffled, his face was covered in snake bites and claw marks, and it's neck-
Sure, it was stone, but it didn't look like the head came off after the transformation. Stone chunks of muscle and bone still hung out the bottom, stiff and lifeless. Then I glanced up at the other statue. They looked so similar, and that's when it hit me.
Whoever killed Medusa, did not kill a monster. | 10 | 0 | 409 | 213,326 |
[WP] They kept coming for her, despite everything you did to keep her safe - break her out of that lab, forsake your former life and job as one of their scientists, go on the run. But now you've found the perfect place for someone with her unique "talents" to lay low, stay safe, and even flourish. | **Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.
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>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include "[Poem]"
>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail
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[WP] You run a bar for various things of myth and make believe an other oddities. It's not a bad job, the tips are good everyone obeys the neutrality rules and anyone who doesn't isn't generally seen again. Although your running into problems an may have to shut the bar down. | **Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.
**Reminders**:
>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include "[Poem]"
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[WP] The zombie apocalypse is ongoing, but you are a sailor in the Navy. May the damnable undead learn to fear the coast. | **Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.
**Reminders**:
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>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail
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[WP] You were once a bully in highschool, now a fully functioning adult with more regrets than you can count. Older now, wiser, you've been given a chance to have a conversation with yourself from the past to change things. | **Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.
**Reminders**:
>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include "[Poem]"
>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail
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[WP] You were once a bully in highschool, now a fully functioning adult with more regrets than you can count. Older now, wiser, you've been given a chance to have a conversation with yourself from the past to change things. | "A mere moment in time." Says the strange being, undulating with untold cosmic power as its form shifts incomprehensibly in my vision. "That is what I will give you. A blink in the vastness of history."
I nod, hurriedly so. "Please." I plead quietly, lowering my head. "Even just a moment is all I ask for."
The being blinks it's one eye, and the very fabric of reality begins to twist and bend around me. "Very well. I hope you use this moment wisely."
I feel myself stretch into a spiral, my molecules pushed to the point of bursting, before I compress back unto myself. When my vision finally clears, I find myself in my old room. I look around, fighting back tears as I see my bed, my football and boxing posters on the wall, my bong on its nightstand in plain view.
I hadn't really cared if my parents found it. In fact, I remembered, I'd hoped they did. If only so that they'd have a serious sit down with me about it, just for once. They never did.
I take a deep breath, the lingering odor of too much deodorant and cologne lingering in the air, and I look around at the various trophies on display. Peewee and junior league football trophies, as well as some amateur boxing ones. Things I had been so proud of, back then.
Things that meant nothing now.
"I'm home!" I hear my past voice calling, relatively deep but still with that crack of tell-tale youth. Only silence answered it, silence I'd grown too used to back then. I hear my own footsteps stomping up the steps, a passive defiance with no audience to hear it. The door opens, and I see my 15 year old self stop dead in the doorway.
"What the fu... who the fuck *are* *you*, and what are you doing in my room?" He challenges, his expression tired but defiant. There are bags under his eyes, exhausted from four days of football practice and three trips to a boxing gym a week. His athletic bag is slung over his shoulders, and his cleats are still on, smudged and grass stained.
Mom always did complain about the mud I'd track into the house.
"*MOM!"* He shouts behind him when I don't answer, his eyes wide in panic. "There's someone in my-"
"She won't answer you." I interrupt, my voice catching in my throat. "She won't answer you because she isn't home. And we both know that."
He freezes, his eyes squinting as he studies me with intelligent eyes. Intelligence I'd wasted, instead trying to act cool by playing dumb in class. It had been good for a couple of good laughs, but that was all it had been good for. Laughs. I know he's analyzing me, and when his eyes widen I know he knows what, or who, I am.
He stays there for a few moments, frozen in consideration, before finally he closes the door behind him.
"You're *me*." He says. It isn't a question, and he throws his bag onto the floor. "So time travel exists? Whatever you're here for, wouldn't the bootstrap paradox take care of?"
I chuckle. I was smart, back then. "No, Ian. I'm the very first iteration. *I'm* the hand pulling on the bootstrap, and I'm really hoping that you won't have to become the next hand." I answer honestly, and to my own credit, he considers this carefully. Finally, he plops down onto our own bed. A very Dallas Cowboys themed bed.
"Okay." He says doubtfully. "What are you here for?"
I take a deep breath, choosing my next words carefully. We were given a moment, but there was no guarantee how long this moment would last for. "Ryan." I eventually say. "Take it easier on Ryan."
Past Ian scoffs, rolling his eyes. "*Please,* I haven't given Ryan a har-"
"No, not yet." I interrupt again, much to my younger self's annoyance. I suppress a chuckle. I'd always had a problem with authority figures telling me what to do. "But you will. He's annoying now, but eventually he'll grow up and be a good friend of yours. You haven't asked him yet, you won't for the next few years, but he shares some of your same interests."
Past me looks at me doubtfully. "But he *stinks*. He doesn't shower, and he doesn't-"
"But he *will.*" I insist quietly, and to my own credit past me shuts his mouth. "And sure, he doesn't know how to talk to people yet. So teach him, like we eventually do in senior year. Tell other people he's cool, they'll listen to us. Also, for the love *god*, ***stop*** acting dumb in class. I know it makes people laugh, but who *cares?* It only affects you. I promise, this will only end badly for us."
Past me looks at me, again doubtful, but nods. "Okay. I will." He whispers. "Anything else?"
I hum in consideration. "Stop wearing so much cologne. Two spritzes are enough." I eventually say, and past me nods again. "Also, I know you have your heart set on Dallas, but if another college offers and they don't, take it. They're not going to. Second choice is better than none, trust me."
I feel a tug pulling on my soul, nearly wrenching me back to my timeline. "ALSO!" I shout, before I'm torn away. "TELL YOUR PARENTS YOU WISH THEY WERE AROUND MORE. AND BE NICER IN GENERAL TO PEOPLE, THEY DON'T LIKE ASSHOLES AS MUCH AS YOU'D THINK! AND DON'T DATE PEGGY! SHE'S FUCKING CRAZY!"
With one last nod from my past me, I'm pulled back. When I open my eyes again, I give a slight *oomph* as a form jumps onto my chest.
"Daddy, wake up!" I hear Aurora's voice shout excitedly, opening my eyes to see my four year old daughter hopping onto my chest. A flood of information enters my brain. I'd ended up going to Ohio State. I'd met Lenora there, my beautiful wife, and we'd had a healthy, just as beautiful daughter, Aurora. I graduated with a Master's in biology, and moved to New York for a new, well-paying job. I still met up with Ryan on weekends to play DND.
I whisper a small thank you to the cosmic being who'd given me the chance, roll over, and kiss Lenora on the cheek. "Mommy and daddy are gross!" Lenora exclaims, and I chuckle.
I'd listened. Thank god, I'd listened. | 4 | 0 | 9 | 213,331 |
[WP] You were once a bully in highschool, now a fully functioning adult with more regrets than you can count. Older now, wiser, you've been given a chance to have a conversation with yourself from the past to change things. | Obligatory written on mobile, apologies for formatting.
★★★
"One chance?"
"One chance."
"You're serious?"
"Of course."
The voice talking to me had no physical body but I could hear every word clearly. I twiddle my thumbs together, then sigh.
"I can talk to my last self, just like that?"
"Yes, Brooke. A chance to right your wrongs."
"Alright."
"So?"
"Let me think."
The voice sighs in annoyance as I think about what I'd even say. Knowing the old me, if I told myself to be better, I'd start bullying more people out of spite. If I tried for reverse psychology and encouraged it... well, that'd probably actually encourage it.
Maybe, if I could show my past self how amazing life is now, how much better if a person I am...
No, I wouldn't buy it.
"I'm not going to."
"What? Brooke, maybe you don't understand-"
"Oh, I understand. Trust me. If everything changed back then, then I wouldn't be here. I wouldn't be as good as I am now. The things I did were horrible, but they've made me who I am today. I needed to grow, and I did. I can't take that away from myself."
"Brooke."
"Don't try to convince me to do it. It won't work."
"You killed a kid, don't you want to fix that?!"
"That was the turning point! When he... look, he did that to himself. Maybe I was the cause, but that was the point I started becoming a better person. Now I have a loving family and if he didn't-"
"If he didn't then he might have a loving family too."
"Look, I have many, many regrets. But no matter what, those regrets were what shaped me."
"Yes, yes, you've already said that! You're more complicated than the others."
"Maybe just smarter."
I cross my arms as I wait for a response. It stays completely silent, until eventually, I feel the voice's presence fading.
"Wait, that's it?"
"You're not worth saving, Brooke."
I huff, muttering some swears under my breath. I'm doing the right thing, I don't need saving anymore. Whoever or whatever this voice is is wrong. It may have been a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, but some are left better untaken.
Right before the voice's presence fades completely, it speaks one last time.
"I hope you're proud of yourself."
★★★
I don't think this is what you were aiming for with the prompt, but as soon as I read the prompt the idea just popped into my head! I hope you enjoy it!
Check out r/EditorWrites for more :) | 1 | 0 | 9 | 213,332 |
[EU] (Pokémon) The Galarian authorities don’t know how, but a young female trainer has somehow managed to Dynamax herself. | **Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.
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>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include "[Poem]"
>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail
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[WP] It's been growing inside you for a while, and the doctors say there isn't much time. This is the day you make it all worthwhile - even if it means the end of the road. Once the smoke clears and the screams fade, you realize this thing inside you has other plans, and today is just the beginning. | **Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.
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[CW] Follow Me Friday - Party | Welcome to Follow Me Friday!
* All top level comments must be a 100-300 word story “Middle”.
* Refrain from posting comments until an “Ending” has been added.
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* Feel free to reply to this comment to mention your thoughts on the story starter. Was it easy to come up with a continuation? Did you enjoy it? Could it be improved?
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[CW] Follow Me Friday - Party | <2/3>
Sanjay grasped Caroline's hand in his and squeezed it tightly, hoping to communicate that everything would be ok. He wouldn’t let anything bad happen to her. Through his fingers he could feel the beating pulse of her heart.
The music had stopped but the lights were still pulsing and the men that had forced them all to the floor were shouting. He couldn’t understand what they were saying. Sanjay lifted his head to see what was going on.
Five men were on the stage, at least they seemed to be men. They were wearing huge armored suits with guns that didn’t even seem real. “If everyone cooperates, each and every one of you will get to go home tonight.” one of the armored men said. “We are looking for a very dangerous woman.”
They projected a hologram picture of Caroline out over the crowd.
“This woman is considered dangerous and we believe she is in the crowd tonight. When she is apprehended you are all free to go.”
Sanjay looked back to Caroline, her eyes calm now. “What do they want with *you*?" he asked.
This time Caroline squeezed Sanjay’s hand. "It's nothing for you to worry about," she said standing up "but if I don't go with them now then your life could be in danger too."
Sanjay couldn't bare to let her go. Not before he had a chance to tell her how he felt about her. As he stood too all eyes were on them. Then, still holding her hand, he pulled her with him. "Run, Caroline. Just run."
They weaved through the crowd, others beginning to stand up. *Were they helping them get away?* Sanjay thought.
Sanjay looked back on stage one last time. The guns were pointed at them. Red targets affixed to their backs.
[WC:300] | 3 | 0 | 6 | 213,336 |
[CW] Follow Me Friday - Party | <2/3>
Caroline dropped prone, amid the hundreds of other people doing the same across the dance floor. Sanjay almost did the same, but everyone else collapsed so suddenly that he found himself standing alone above the sea of prone partygoers.
He saw no armed men rushing onto the scene. He whirled in place, trying to find the assailants he imagined must be storming the celebration. But as he turned around, he saw only one other person on his feet: *the DJ.*
The young Korean man was making his way through the crowd, clutching a large black garbage bag in one hand, and a microphone in the other. He occasionally paused to raise his wireless mic and shout at the terrified people on the floor, who would immediately scramble to thrust their valuables at him.
*Gimme dat skrilla dawg,*
*pass me dat chain,*
*dump out dem Louies,*
*fo' I go INSANE!*
Sanjay gaped at the larcenous MC in amazement for a moment, before remembering Caroline. He looked down, and saw that she was covering her head with her hands and trembling.
"Um, Caroline...." he began, hesitantly.
"Sanj!" she hissed. "Didn't you hear him? Get down!"
"But...but he's just--"
"Aww, *hell* naw!" the DJ shouted, and Sanjay quickly looked back up at him. The man had finally noticed him, and was now glaring at him across the dance floor.
"Uh...hi?" Sanjay said, uncertainly.
"Yeh, what's good, *MC Vindaloo?* Ya'll finna step to *me?"* the DJ demanded, sounding affronted.
"Hey," Sanjay objected. "That's racist."
The DJ snorted derisively, and then used a word he definitely wasn't allowed to use, followed by "...please!" He reached into his puffy fluorescent vest, grabbed something, and hurled it directly at Sanjay, who just managed to catch it in fumbling fingers.
It was a microphone.
"Bring it!" the DJ snarled, raising his own microphone.
\[WC: 290\] | 4 | 0 | 6 | 213,337 |
[CW] Follow Me Friday - Party | <2/3>
So he and Caroline did the same. In the short moment of relative calmness, Sanjay sighed and muttered curses under his breath. Then, the terror took over. They looked at each other again and fright made them turn away.
"It's going to be okay." he said softly, not just to reassure Caroline.
After everyone was bent on the ground, a man with daggers for eyes took to the stage. Stiff solemn men stood on opposite ends of the area surrounding him. Standing two meters from the DJ, his gun aimed, he turned and spoke to the crowd.
"This man has wronged us. And for his crimes, he shall pay with his life."
Optional inclusion (Suddenly, the DJ bolted towards the man and began trying to tackle him.) | 3 | 0 | 6 | 213,338 |
[WP] You're a scientist, reading the chronicles of the history of a doomed civilization in the final stages of being destroyed by global warming. The civilization is... yeast. The chronicle... the result of the lab intern pointing your groundbreaking new invention at a loaf of bread. | **Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.
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[WP] You are completely normal. no super strength, no invisibility, nothing flashy. however, you do tend to not be able to stay dead. Oh, you'll die, but the next day you just wake up in your bed at the start of thr day. recently, though, you've been stuck on thr same day. | **Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.
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[WP] You are the last human on earth. it's not so bad, until the Aliens show up. Very suprised, they seem to think you're a super soldier when you can easily bend their weak tin based metals. then they start cloning more humans... | **Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.
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[WP] You are the last human on earth. it's not so bad, until the Aliens show up. Very suprised, they seem to think you're a super soldier when you can easily bend their weak tin based metals. then they start cloning more humans... | I was the last human on Earth. This is what I think happened. Nuclear War ravaged our planet, destroyed every city, every town, every man woman and child. But not me. See, I was an astronaut. I was slowly descending from space, and barely avoided the barrage of nukes set off by every country. I landed near where Australia should have been, but found myself in an ocean with no Australia. The ship that was supposed to pick me up was nearby, and still moving. The people on board that ship were well alive, but as it got closer I could tell something weird was happening. All of a sudden, the ship burst into flames. The crew had fought each other to the death, so I figured. The boat blew up in front of my eyes. One man had managed to get aboard the life boat, a roughly twenty foot fishing vessel, but by the time I reached that boat, he had succumbed to his injuries. Anyways, decades later, after traveling the world alone and desperate to find another singular being, I was sleeping in a cabin in the Rocky Mountains. A cabin I claimed as my own. The town outside had been full of bodies, decomposing and rotting before I got there. I buried as many as I could find. Men, women, children. Their pets too. Most animals had also died in the great explosion. I truly was the last human on Earth. I enjoyed my life, growing my own food, living off the land. The winters weren't so bad either. No companies to turn off my power, no need to use electricity. Besides the occasional repair tool, that is. A life of solitude and peace. Until that night about twenty years ago. As I slept, a loud humming noise came from the sky, waking me up. Startled, I ran outside. "Is it a car?" I thought out loud. Then, a light shined down on me from the night Colorado sky. Several figures appeared, almost as if they teleported right in front of me. They saw the town I had lived in and maintained. I couldn't understand them, but it seemed they were impressed. Next, they motioned me to follow them into their ship. I went, having no other choice and no way to defend myself from these figures from space. They gave me what seemed to be a weapon of sorts, wanting to see what I'd do. I accidentally broke it half with almost zero effort. They looked shocked, and impressed. One made me lie down, and used some sort of laser to pull my blood without even using a needle. Then they showed me the way out, and left. It was once again just me on Earth, until about five years from then. The aliens had returned. This time, they opened their doors wide. It was like watching a football stadiums roof opening, except it was a door. Excited, they led me towards their ship. When I arrived, I saw many humans. I was skeptical, for I had flown all over the world looking for life, and had found none. But here they all were. I went to greet them, only they didn't understand me. The aliens pointed them towards the town, and pointed at me. When they pointed at me, all of the almost 400 humans bowed towards me. Then, the aliens were gone again. Like magic, just disappeared without a trace. The humans came to me, speaking a language I knew nothing of. It sounded like the language the aliens had spoken. Then I noticed something disturbing. All of the males looked like me. All of the women had the same face as well, but not mine. I shouted above the crowd "Does anyone here speak English?" The crowd parted like the Red Sea, and the most beautiful woman I've ever seen stepped forwards. "Hello, I'm Gerry, the original human these women are based on. You must be Archer. I've heard about you, from the alien host." Shocked, I just stood there. She shouted to the aliens in the alien language, before turning to me to say "I told them this is their home too. They will learn to live as you have, and they have been instructed to procreate." I finally was able to speak, and I said "Oh good Lord the last thing we need is humanity on this planet again. Look what happened before, nothing good can come of this!" Laughing, she turned towards me and said "Oh, how wrong you will be."
&#x200B;
And that kids is how I met your mother. | 11 | 0 | 28 | 213,342 |
[WP] You are the last human on earth. it's not so bad, until the Aliens show up. Very suprised, they seem to think you're a super soldier when you can easily bend their weak tin based metals. then they start cloning more humans... | Pt. 1
Here I was standing on this desolate planet alone, disappointed that I wasn’t dead yet. I lived a quite and depressing life of simplistic mediocrity were nothing ever happened. It wasn’t even so bad that it was interesting it’s just that you could write down all thirty years of my life down in a paragraph. I wandered around the desolate city I once lived in, ravaged by war and natural disasters I was the only person left on this shitty planet.
Eventually I sat down at a diner I would go to every day. I ordered the same thing, a well done burger with onions and mustard with a side of thin cut fries. Add in a vanilla milkshake and that was my lunch since I was in my early twenties. I sat there for what must have been an hour on those bar chairs when I heard something I hasn’t heard before. The roar of engines Burt’s through the air and I hid behind the bar looking out the windows.
Outside a medium sized space craft landed right in the middle of the street. A orb like drone popped out and began scanning the environment as it floated around emitting a low hum. After a few minutes of scanning around it it popped back into the craft and a pressurized door opened. Two creatures vaguely humanoid with three muscular legs and short stout bodes in modern style armor entered the street.
They only seemed to be three feet tall as they set something on their gauntlets which turned into the equivalent of a sub machine gun. The taller one also had what looked like a blade on its hip. I hid from them as I heard them step closer into the dinner. Their armored footsteps crunching the broken glass beneath them which they looked at inquisitively.
I tucked myself into one of the cupboards and closed the door behind me. I could hear their footsteps growing closer as I held my breath as the door opened. They pointed their gun at me and I raised my hands in surrender. Apparently that sign isn’t universal as the loud sound of firearms echoed through the room. I saw my life flash before my eyes but…I wasn’t dead. It hurt like I was being shot by a pellet gun but none of their shots broke the skin.
I banged my forehead on the cupboard as I crawled out of it while the solider kept shooting at me with no affect until he landed a few shots on my neck. That certainly left a mark and I charged the solider and tackled it. As soon as I had wrapped my arms around it I heard a crunch of the armor bending under my weight. As soon as we hit the ground I felt the creatures whole body squish like one of those yoghurt tubes.
I got off of it and was worried for a moment that I might have actually just killed it when I saw from the corner of my eye the other solider aim their gun at me and begin firing. I charged it again and managed to grab the firearm out of its hands without any issue. Before I could turn the gun on it I felt the gun crinkle and deform under my grip and threw the ruined the firearm to the side.
The solider unsheathed their blade so I picked up a nearby chair for some kind of defense. As it took a swing at me I swung the chair and not only dented the blade but deformed it into a sad looking “U”. It dropped the useless blade and ram back into its ship and flew away. I returned back to the solider I had tackled who was just as deformed looking as the sword was and looked like I had just stepped on a snail with its beige body leaking out from the change in pressure.
Soon enough a dozen or so more soldiers in similar uniforms showed up and fired at me on sight. I charged them as the hail of slightly painful bbs hit me and haymakered a soldiers head clean off. I felt like a super human as they started backing off but still trying to take me down. I kept coming after them again and again killing them in different ways. One I kicked their legs off and curb stomped them, Pile drivers, RKO’s, And Bane Knee slamming people in half.
They started switching to darts coated with something that I believed to be some kind of tranquilizer. Either way my adrenaline was pumping and whatever they were doing just wasn’t working. Their armor did nothing to stop me and their fire arms had zero stopping power against me. For the first time in my life I was unstoppable. | 2 | 0 | 28 | 213,343 |
Aliens made contact with humanity, but they are so far away that each message between both species has 100 years of delay. Historians are calling this: "Our first intergalactic penpals" | Your submission has been removed because it is not properly tagged. Please repost your prompt, starting with a correct capitalized tag, enclosed in square brackets in the title.
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[WP] One day, you're just writing out in your book when suddenly the characters start popping into existence- only they're an inch tall, like miniatures. | **Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.
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You stopped aging in your mid-30s. Today, many centuries later, you discover a grey hair on your head. | Your submission has been removed because it is not properly tagged. Please repost your prompt, starting with a correct capitalized tag, enclosed in square brackets in the title.
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Plz read my new story Lords Of Chaos | Your submission has been removed because it is not properly tagged. Please repost your prompt, starting with a correct capitalized tag, enclosed in square brackets in the title.
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[WP] You stopped aging in your mid-30s, many centuries ago. Today, for the first time, you discover a grey hair on your head. | **Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.
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[WP] You stopped aging in your mid-30s, many centuries ago. Today, for the first time, you discover a grey hair on your head. | [removed] | 2 | 0 | 14 | 213,349 |
[WP] You stopped aging in your mid-30s, many centuries ago. Today, for the first time, you discover a grey hair on your head. | Time has become an absurd concept for me, years and centuries pass and yet I remain the same. Not in the prime of my youth as portrayed in some stories. Despite the years that have passed, I still look the same.
You heard me right - I'm not getting any older. Whether you believe me or not is your choice, but there's nothing you can do about the fact that it's the truth. This is my reality. Being caught up in the world of the dying, watching them blossom and then wither, has become my very purpose in life. I have seen so many things, the most heinous places where life began, and I have just sat back. I watched to see if they would take root or rot.
Of course, I could have acted, cleaned up the mess and put life in a small, carefully chosen container. But I never considered that as an option. I would be denying reality if I really tried to do something like that. Where there is beauty, there is filth - how could a flower grow without the filth giving it the foundation and nutrients it needs to sprout?
There is a reason why things are the way they are - a reason why people grow older, die, and leave their loved ones behind. That is what I choose to believe.
I don't yet know why I am different, why I am excluded from this cycle of life and death. Is it a mistake? Am I just not worthy to follow in their footsteps? I was scared and thought for hours about what I did wrong. How I could make it right.
Until I just stopped. It sounds strange, but when I opened my eyes, I was surprised at how much time had passed, how much people's lives had changed - tears streamed down my face. It was such a beautiful sight. At that moment, I realized my role in all of this: to observe and recognize the beauty that is as resilient as a dandelion in the wind.
And yet, my time seems to have run out. Last night I noticed a single hair growing on my head - it wasn't long before all my hair was doing the same. And it didn't stop with my hair. My once tight skin became saggy, and so did the rest of my body.
It won't be long before I'm no longer here.
And I'm happier than I could ever be.
The gift you gave me I will keep in my heart.
Even though my time will eventually run out, I will never forget the beauty of which I am a part.
This is the cycle of life and death. | 6 | 0 | 14 | 213,350 |
[WP] You stopped aging in your mid-30s, many centuries ago. Today, for the first time, you discover a grey hair on your head. | The lights shined on the singular silver hair. My bathroom mirror reflection moved with me, the both of us studying the bright objects in our hands with a stunned fascination like a duo of geologists that had just unearthed a pair of rare gems.
Disbelief filled my eyes. All the years. Decades. Centuries, even. Could it finally be coming to an end?
*How? I'd been careful. I'd kept everything the same. Everything.*
Rage welled up from within me. I turned abruptly, throwing the single strand with as much strength as I could muster. It danced in the air, fluttering briefly, before settling into a quiet, motionless existence. Still. Accepting. The innocence of it all.
I screamed and slammed myself into a wall. I pounded my fists against the door. I tore down the shower curtain and flung the rod across the room. Anger. Agony. I needed to hurt someone—something. Even if that included me.
Finally, I turned toward the mirror. I threw a punch. The glass shattered. Once pristine and elegant, now cracked and damaged. A spiderweb extended from the impact: individual shards born from my fist. Then they fell, crashing onto the sink below and tumbling off to rest at the floor beside my feet.
I crouched down, allowing the emotions to overwhelm me, as the sound of banging glass swiftly tapered off into a queue of vanishing tinkles. Hands grasped and pulled at the hair that remained on my skull, punishing it for showing me the impossible.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw it again. The grey hair. Laying there so serene, undisturbed, amidst a shower of fallen glass. The rage within me dissipated as I watched it in silence. Perhaps there was a part of me that thought it would suddenly come alive and plant itself back upon my head, color and all restored. Silly. Naive.
I crawled over to the lone hair. Fallen fragments of glass cut into my forearms and knees, but the pain was far away. Arriving at its side, I gently scooped it into my cupped hands.
For a moment, I merely sat there in that crumpled mess, huddled over that tiny strand. Water droplets began to fall into my hands. They rolled down the subtle creases of my fingers and palms until they drowned the singular hair at the bottom. I was crying.
Immortality. My oldest friend. Gone. | 2 | 0 | 14 | 213,351 |
[WP] The heroes learn that a cult is planning on resurrecting the Dark Mage and head off to try and stop them. When they arrive, however, they find all the cultist dead and the Dark Mage asking to join them because "something has to be wrong if those people wanted to WILLINGLY work with ME." | **Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.
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[WP] The heroes learn that a cult is planning on resurrecting the Dark Mage and head off to try and stop them. When they arrive, however, they find all the cultist dead and the Dark Mage asking to join them because "something has to be wrong if those people wanted to WILLINGLY work with ME." | Hi u/Paper_Shotgun, this submission has been removed.
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[WP] The heroes learn that a cult is planning on resurrecting the Dark Mage and head off to try and stop them. When they arrive, however, they find all the cultist dead and the Dark Mage asking to join them because "something has to be wrong if those people wanted to WILLINGLY work with ME." | "*You know the plan, lure them out to stop the ritual*," The Eagle, the leader of our group commands me from the heros' ship. We were too late, too late that only I can reach the ritual grounds the Followers of the Dark Mage made.
"I see the origin of the dark mist sir and it is in an abandoned hospital," I tell them, "I am going in."
In mere seconds, I am already inside and ready to distract the cultists but what I discovered is more distressing than the cultist achieving their plan.
"What do you *see* Miss Skylight?"
Guts and blood are littered around the building, there are no signs of people. I land on an area unaffected by the blood and I use my superhero vision. I see the cultists' robes just sprawling on the pools of blood. I feel my guts drop but I must pick myself up, because if I don't, then innocent people will become like this.
"*Tsk, tsk*, Are you lost little sheep?" A feminine voice echoes inside my head. I look around to search for the origin of that voice but I cannot pinpoint it out.
"Mis—bzzzt—Skylight—Answer me—blep," It seems like I lost signal from the ship, it was fine a while ago...it can't be.
I levitate the moment I see the blood moving, crawling to me as if its alive and is trying to grab me. This is definitely dark magic, the Dark Mage is now awake.
"I do not fear you!" I yell with all my might and courage, I must not surrender to fear for this is for the people, "Come out."
Then, something form in front of me, a figure of a woman.
"You are no fun," She says, now I see her clearly, wearing a dark robe with eccentric symbols stitched in every inch of it. Engraved on her hands are the symbols that the cultists engraved to their robes. This is her, *Yarish*, the Dark Mage of the North.
"This is no laughing matter Dark Mage!" I say, "You killed these people!"
She frowns and looks around her surrounding as if it is the first time she is seeing this.
"These people are criminals for trying to summon me," She sighs, "And I give what criminals deserved, *death*."
"B—but, they are your *followers!*" I ask, "Why would you kill your own followers?"
She laughs, it echoes through the entire building. It gave me chills somehow, but I must not show weakness because she is a mass murderer, *a supervillain.*
"I do *not* need followers," She says with scorn, "I can and will do whatever I want and only I should do what I do."
"Like what? burning a village into the ground?" I ask, she raises a brow and smirks.
"Dear, I do not use my powers with no reason," She says, her eyes never leaving mine.
"I, I," I am lost with words, I do not understand this woman. I try to think of another question to distract her until they arrive.
"You have such...*interesting clothes*," She says, her eyes scanning me from my head to my toe. This somehow made my face heat up.
"This, this is not just clothes, this is my superhero suit," I state, "I am Skylight, the hero of the skies!"
"Interesting name...." But before she could say something else, a booming voice calls out from outside.
"Put your hands up, the building is surrounded and you can not escape!"
That voice! It's my leader. I look over to Yarish as she looks confuse, her eyes are focused on the lights outside. I almost forgot, she is from the stone age and she doesn't know flashlights and stereos.
"You either surrender or fight me and the others," I announce, I ready my stance so I could dodge whatever she will do. But instead she just shrugs and did not do anything.
"I surrender then," She calmly says. Okay, I am so confuse right now. She puts her hands in front and I put handcuffs on her wrists, still confused from this encounter. We safely leave the building and waiting outside is my group. The Eagle approaches us and his eyes is immediately on Yarish.
"Yarish..." He says, grinding his teeth.
"Captain, she did not put up a fight," I tell him, "And...and she killed the cultists and none survived."
Even with his mask on, I know his eyes are widen but just like me, he is putting up a façade to not show weakness.
"Why did you do that?" The Eagle growls.
"Because I am a changed woman," Yarish says smugly, "And I want to join your little *group*"
And then that moment, we received a new member of our group, a powerful deity that killed her own followers out of her own free will. | 1 | 0 | 5 | 213,354 |
[WP] The heroes learn that a cult is planning on resurrecting the Dark Mage and head off to try and stop them. When they arrive, however, they find all the cultist dead and the Dark Mage asking to join them because "something has to be wrong if those people wanted to WILLINGLY work with ME." | The door to the chambers finally began to give. The battering ram was working. The vicious battle outside having devolved into an onslaught to destroy everyone inside who had survived. The fate of the land depended on it. The fate of all those who had fought this far depended on it.
The sky swirled with dark clouds, the void itself tinged red. The color of blood as lightning crackled and wind howled.
"Come on!" Bao ordered. "We've almost got it! HEAVE!!"
The assembled group shoved the ram against the door again. The bolts finally cracking, the wood starting to give.
"HEAVE!"
Light was spotted, as the gaps in the barrier grew. Something swooped over the group. One of the knights that had accompanied them fell. In the mid, he grasped futilely at his neck as it spurted blood through the gaps in his armor. One of the healers knelt to help, only for one of the orcs to drag them back to the ram. There wasn't any helping that one. One of the elves aimed his bow at the sky and fired. The others never looked as the arrow hit its mark. A body struck the wall above so hard it shattered.
"Let's go!"
"HEAVE!"
The door gave, crumbling from its frame to the floor. The crown angrily voicing their victory as the group led the charge. They swelled through empty halls and tombs as they prepared to battle the last of the cult. Eventually the shouts and threats died down, because they hadn't found anyone to fight.
Until the mimic got their attention.
"Raki?" Bao asked. "What?"
"In here." The mimic said, their armor changed to cover their body even heavier. The others in their group prepared themselves as they wedged a blade in the door. The mimic treated themselves like one larged muscle and the door exploded open.
"Charge!" Bao shouted as they rushed in.
"CHAA- oh. Wow. Oh hell no." The voices all faltered.
The reason the door was so hard to force was the sheer amount of pressure behind it. Blood ran into the hall ankle deep. Organs and viscera coated every surface imaginable. And the pale figure in the middle simply waited as the overwhelming bodyheat slowly left the room. A liver cooled near her foot and she made sure to duly kick it out of view as she stood. Slightly taller than average, her pale skin was only matched by the dark wings she carried as well as the bloodied horns atop her head.
Despite her fearsome aura and presence, she only offered a halfhearted shrug.
"Hey everybody." She absently greeted. In her hand, she held part of what the others rightfully assumed was one of the cultists.
The assembled group simply stacked themselves up and readied their weapons now. The shock must have worn off.
"I take it you're here to kill me." She offered as she levitated a little. The torso hit the ground with a wet slap.
Still no answers.
"My, what a varied group this time." She smiled. "Elves, orcs, a mimic. For you to all work together, things must be truly dire."
"Your cult's reign ends here." One offered her.
An arrow flew true to its mark. Only for the mage simply take the hit in the shoulder. She pulled it loose, looked at it and let it fall to the floor. It was as if she'd never been struck at all.
"Oh, believe me. Their reign ended already." She simply lowered herself back to the floor, bare feet gracefully tracking through crimson. She picked up a head, or what was left of it.
She tossed it like a misshapen bowling ball to land at the feet of the warriors.
"Their leader." She pointed out. The torso she held previous was the next to be thrown forward. "Their summoner, for the ceremonies."
The next offering was a hip with a bit of leg still attached. "Funny. I don't remember her."
"You killed them?"
"Well yeah." She continued smiling. She rummaged through a pile of meat. Eventually she produced a heart from it and began munching on it in a fashion one would an apple.
Obviously, this disgusted her rescue party. But she was hungry. So compromises had to be made.
"Something has to be wrong if those people wanted to WILLINGLY work with ME."
It was true after all. When they weren't ambushing settlements, they performed horrific rituals. Sacrificing any careless enough to cross their paths. In cleansing the land after the fall of the Dark Lord, fractured cults like these were increasingly common. And as such in many cases, were meant to be wiped out.
"So, you deemed them unworthy?" An elf asked. Hs seemed to be one of the defacto rulers of this new group.
"No. They were being rather gross about it all." She sighed between bites. "I prefer a bit more substance to my followers. Class, even."
"So what happens now?" Another asked. She wondered who exactly before the mimic stepped forward.
"...We could do battle." She said as she finished eating. Blood trickled down her chin. Electricity and fire crackled in her hands. And then went out. "Or, you could earn yourself a dark mage as an ally."
"Huh?"
"I quite like these worlds of mine. But someone worse is coming. And they do not. You will need someone like me. Hence my offer."
"What must we trade?" Bao worried. Orcs don't show much fear, so it was a grumble from him.
"I already ate." She smiled, bearing that sharp and gory look again. "Quite well actually. We're even."
"You are the one who killed Heron. Correct?"
The elf slowly nodded at this. "Correct."
She levitated again, her wings flapping to bring her closer to everyone. The immense power radiating from her slowly fading as she settled again.
"Kitkudawa. Decimator of The Planes." She offered. "But everyone calls me Kit. Can we go now?"
---
r/Jamaican_Dynamite | 1 | 0 | 5 | 213,355 |
[WP] Heroes are everywhere. It just so happens that heroics tend to have a high mortality rate, for a pittance of rewards so heroes rarely grow to be as powerful as villains. Then one "genius" leader of the hero league "invented" the human wave tactic. | **Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.
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[WP] If you're truly loved by someone and return that love, neither of you will age beyond the prime of your lives. If you're old and you find into true love, the weariness of age fades and your body heals until you're back in the prime of your life. If that love ends, though, aging starts again. | **Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.
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[WP] If you're truly loved by someone and return that love, neither of you will age beyond the prime of your lives. If you're old and you find into true love, the weariness of age fades and your body heals until you're back in the prime of your life. If that love ends, though, aging starts again. | I never thought we'd grow old together.
Everyone knows how the story goes. Boy meets girl, girl meets boy, they fall in love and spend the rest of their lives as they are, free to enjoy each other as their prime selves, unchanged.
When I met my husband we were both young, practically children. He was a local boy, working as a bartender across the street from the university I attended. I remember he had this affable glow around him, friends with everyone who walked through the door, never let a bad night get him down. I thought it was a ploy to get better tips. Then he talked to me.
It was a slow night. A day or so before spring break, most of my friends had already bailed after their last final. I was one of two people in the bar. He served me a whiskey sour, on the house, and we got to talking. I'd never loved the sound of someone's voice so much. We talked about everything. Our friends, our childhoods, our plans for the future. I wanted to be a doctor, he wanted to take over and possibly expand the family bar. Before we knew it, it was 3am and he was closing up the bar before following me back to my dorm room for the night.
I was supposed to spring break at a beach house owned my roommate's uncle. Instead, I spent the next two weeks in his apartment, more naked than clothed.
Two years later, we were married.
It was a small ceremony, only ten people came. We celebrated by drinking and dancing in the very bar we met in. I'd never been happier.
Those first few years of marriage were mostly bliss. Medical school wasn't easy, he was butting heads with his father at the bar but we had each other. We had our own place and we were completely in love. Neither of us aged a bit.
Things got a little tough when I started my residency. He worked days, I worked days and nights. We did it our best to make time for one another but it wasn't easy. Some days it felt like I was roommates with a ghost that liked to leave sweet post-it notes on the walls. *I love you. Have a good day at work. Those nurses are bitches.* Seems stupid now but those little notes were all that got me through the day sometimes. And of course, I put in effort too. Stopping by the bar after work even when I was exhausted. Perking myself up for date nights even when my feet were killing me. It was worth it to make him happy. It was hard but we loved each other, you could tell by the lack of wrinkles.
The pregnancy was where things really went awry. I remember the two of us pacing around each other in the apartment, waiting for the timer in the bathroom to ring. I was floored when I saw the plus sign. What kind of a doctor gets pregnant on accident? He couldn't keep the smile off his face though. "Would it really be so bad?" he asked. "Having a little person around this place, with a little of me and a little of you in them?" Then I couldn't keep the smile off my face.
Well at least for a little while. Then he said those eight fatal words...
"When do you think you'll quit your job?"
We had the biggest fight of our entire relationship. Tears shed, accusations thrown, doors slammed (by me). He was insistent. I couldn't be a resident and pregnant mother. It was too much work, too much stress. He was worried that it would be too much for me and the baby. I was worried that he was being a complete asshole, trying to keep me literally barefoot and pregnant in the apartment while all my dreams for the future flew out the window.
I spent two days at my mother's house. She told me not to be stubborn and pigheaded. He begged my forgiveness so I decided to come home. After a long, much calmer talk, he agreed that my working was for the best, someone had to pay off my student loans after all. I suppose you could say I won that fight.
But it was hard to feel that way when later that night, as I ran a comb over my scalp, I noticed one single strand of gray hair. | 2 | 0 | 13 | 213,358 |
[PI] Humanity is visited by a cosmic horror the likes of which has only been seen in Lovecraftian horror. In desperation, Earth throws everything we have at it, and, miraculously, the human race has killed a God. Somewhere in a realm beyond our understanding, the other gods speak of the event. | **Welcome to the Post!** This is a [\[PI\] Prompt Inspired](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/how_to_tag_prompts#wiki_pi.3A_prompt_inspired) post which means it's a response to a prompt here on /r/WritingPrompts or /r/promptoftheday.
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[EU] While sitting in his chamber Darth Vader receives a guest. His nam is Iroh and he brought tea, he is seeking to bring Anakin back to the light. | **Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.
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[WP] Earth is a tabletop RPG where players create a species of animal and rise to the top of the food chain. The rest of the group is getting fed up with the power gamer and his ‘humans’. | **Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.
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[WP] “Why are you calling me? I’m a superhero, not Homeland Security!” | **Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.
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[EU] Homelander comes up against his biggest threat yet, Home insurance | **Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.
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[WP] Young children are oddly perceptive. Because of this ninjas, secret agents, and other stealthy people carry teddy bears, handpuppets, candy etc. to distract any small kid who happens to notice them. | **Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.
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[WP] Young children are oddly perceptive. Because of this ninjas, secret agents, and other stealthy people carry teddy bears, handpuppets, candy etc. to distract any small kid who happens to notice them. | \[Heart. Cool.\]
"That's a cute bear," Frost couldn't avoid commenting on it any longer. He happened to run into Valentine while finishing up a quest. After they chatted for a bit, she asked him to tag along so she could finish a quest while they talked. The conversation flowed easily between them and Frost felt like he had a fair bit in common with Valentine. He'd been happy to see her; but, she was carrying a small, red teddy bear that wore a tie with hearts on it.
"Thanks, I didn't pick it," Valentine replied. She led Frost to a quiet suburban neighborhood with white picket fences.
"Your boyfriend has good taste...," Frost said. Valentine giggled and gave her head a shake as they walked. Her long, wine-red braid shimmered in the fading sunlight.
"This bear is part of the quest I'm on," she said. Frost was hoping for a more revealing answer and he felt a bit disappointed when it didn't happen.
"Oh, another assassination quest?" he asked. Valentine nodded as she came to a stop on the sidewalk. She looked across the street at a young boy playing catch with a tall, muscular man.
"And, there's the target," she added. Frost looked across the street at the pair playing in their front yard.
"Wait, the man, right?" Frost asked. He met Valentine's eyes while he asked the question; then, he pointedly glanced at the bear before meeting her eyes. "Right?" he asked again.
"I don't kill kids, even if they're NPCs," Valentine replied. Normally, she wouldn't have bothered defending her actions. But, something inside her wanted Frost to know she wasn't that cold. Or, maybe she was trying to convince both of them.
"Okay, good luck," Frost nodded. He stayed behind and watched Valentine cross the street. At the midway point, she split into two versions of herself. One copy continued forward with the bear in hand while the other one headed towards the man and turned invisible. As if the universe planned it perfectly, the man threw the ball a little too hard and it flew over the boy's head. He turned and chased it down to the edge of their property where Valentine stood. The clone of her smiled at the boy and showed him the teddy bear. It immediately took all his attention.
Frost watched the man for several seconds; but, a sudden voice made him jump in place.
"Well, that quest is abandoned," Valentine said. She reappeared next to him while the clone across the street disintegrated into white powder along with the bear. The boy was confused for a brief moment, then he shrugged and went back to playing catch with his dad.
"What happened?" Frost asked as soon as he recovered from being startled.
"NPC or not..," Valentine shrugged. "...I didn't like the idea of that kid turning around and finding his dad's dead body on the grass."
"You're a good person," Frost chuckled.
"My boyfriend thinks so," Valentine nodded as she pulled a black card from her node and tossed it on the ground. Frost looked surprised at her comment and he stood there unsure of what to say next. Valentine giggled as she began to sink into the portal.
"I mean, my future boyfriend will pretty much have to, to even be considered for the position," she added with a smirk. She didn't say where she was going and she didn't ask Frost to follow her. She simply sunk into the hole and disappeared leaving Frost with the decision of what to do. But, she did give him a final hint before her head dipped below the black surface.
"You're not off to a bad start."
\*\*\*
Thank you for reading! I’m responding to prompts every day. This is story #1809 in a row. (Story #364 in year five.). This story is part of an ongoing saga that takes place at a high school in my universe. It began on August 22nd and I will be adding to it with prompts every day until May 26th. They are all collected in order at [this link](https://www.reddit.com/r/Hugoverse/comments/wtglls/tokuhigh_alternet_class/). | 3 | 0 | 43 | 213,365 |
[WP] Young children are oddly perceptive. Because of this ninjas, secret agents, and other stealthy people carry teddy bears, handpuppets, candy etc. to distract any small kid who happens to notice them. | You’ll be surprised what people can miss when they aren’t looking for anything. Like when you watch a movie and the main character is completely oblivious to the killer hiding in their house or when things randomly go missing. It’s normal, can you honestly say you remember where you keep all your things all the time? When you wander through your house are you really looking at everything or are you on autopilot while thinking about anything else that could be more interesting? Why would you put the energy to look around, who expects someone to be there? Thankfully for me not many people, which makes my life a whole easier, sneak in and wait until the target comes to you and BAM time to cash the cheques.
Honestly it’s a lot easier than people think it is, as long as you avoid the two big no-nos, people who know someone is trying to assassinate them and the worst of all, targets with children. I avoid them like the plague, but If you do foolishly take one, try your damnedest to get the target and the children as far apart as possible..Yeah I know what you are thinking, surely breaking into a stronghold or a target flocked with bodyguards has got to be worse. But truth it's their job they do this day in and day out and they get bored, they lose focus and when they do it becomes easy pickings, but kids… they are relentless. Their never ending curiosity, eyes darting all over the place all the time following every noise, their need to investigate everything new they see or anything that moves.
And sure there are tactics to deal with them, a handful of sweets, a stuffed animal to keep them occupied enough to get past them, but having to carry that on top of all my gear, no thanks. It's not like you can just have one of each either, kids these days are so damn picky so you have to bring a selection. Not only that it's a far shorter term solution then just shooting or knocking out a guard.
Anyway sorry for the rant, today's really not your day is it, you get knocked out tied to a chair and you killer rants at you and before you have a chance to say anything you get shot in the head. When you have my job though there aren’t too many people to rant to, and if you do, they can’t usually stay alive for too much longer. | 1 | 0 | 43 | 213,366 |
[WP] You have the power to change the age of anything you touch. One day you decide to try this on your sleeping partner as a prank since the know about your power. It doesn’t work, at all. They wake up and say, “Gods don’t age dear.” | **Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.
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[WP] Earth is a tabletop RPG (think D&D or Pathfinder) where players create a species of animal and rise to the top of the food chain. The rest of the group is getting fed up with the power gamer and his ‘humans’. | **Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.
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[WP] Earth is a tabletop RPG (think D&D or Pathfinder) where players create a species of animal and rise to the top of the food chain. The rest of the group is getting fed up with the power gamer and his ‘humans’. | “Look, your own backstory says humans don’t acknowledge themselves as animals- three quarters of them believe in an old man in the sky, and the rest think that aliens made them! They don’t even qualify as animals- not enough claws or fur, and way too much tools use!”
The rest of the party blinked their 6 eyes in agreement, 12 hands scrolling through rulebooks.
“What, the DM said it was ok! I’m not even using any homebrew! I gave up natural weapons and armor, gave them religious derangements, and ripped up their animal instincts. Seriously, one bad roll and they happily go into the murder basement! But I took all those points and put them into intelligence. And I made them really, really good at throwing things- first rocks, then rocks on sticks, then refined rocks on sticks, and finally, metal on sticks, thrown with more sticks and animal matter!
It’s all by the book, all the points add up, and it’s not my fault that you guys can’t use your imagination to play!”
Koly kept turning up his ultraviolet as he got more and more agitated, making all his friends hiss.
“Look, we’ve talked about it; you can quit using them so we all have fun, or we destroy you and start over”
“But-“
“So, your smart but incredibly dumb race has built a massive empire, by burning old, dead creatures and using tiny devices to talk from across the world. This caused the leftover carbons from the dead creatures to be cooked by the energy from the tiny devices, making every NORMAL animal go insane. They’ll all start to breed unnaturally fast, and rip apart every human they see. The humans don’t survive, except one or two that starve in bunkers.”
“DM, that’s not fair!”
The DM shrugs. “They followed all the rules. They gave up natural instinct for a derangement, and your own derangements made a perfect opening. So, who wants to DM the next one?” | 20 | 0 | 41 | 213,369 |
[WP] You hear of a insane cultist who is summoning a powerful Demon. In order to stop the summoning you kill the cultist, but after the ritual starts. Apparently, if they are killed mid ritual if makes the summoning unstoppable, good luck. | **Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.
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[WP] Soon enough, the rain will wash off the trail I left behind in the mud. No one will know what I did. | **Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.
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[WP] Soon enough, the rain will wash off the trail I left behind in the mud. No one will know what I did. | Surely, the rain would wash off the footprints in the mud. Nobody would know what I did. But unlike the mud, which could forget what my footprints meant, I could never forget what they meant in my conscience. Or what was left of it.
I was in the sharks’ pocket. They had been knocking down my door for the last 6 weeks, trying to get what they wanted. Money. You’d think they’d leave my poor, weary soul alone, no? If you thought so, bless your poor, kind, soul. They had sent out approximately 10 search and seizure warrants. At one point, I couldn’t do it anymore. When they knocked on the door to my one bedroom, one bathroom apartment that I was living in rent-free, my mind went blank. It was cloudy, and the rain felt cleansing.
Now, as I think about all of this, I realized that nobody cared about me. After what I did, I went from just an irrelevant Monacan trying to make a living off of the roulette tables to a vengeful spirit grappling with mortal problems beyond the reach of the afterlife.
And I felt liberated, since I had been freed from my mortal problems. But I felt sad, in a way, knowing that nobody knew what I did since, as usual, nobody cared about the people struggling along. All they do is take pity and put it into some cobwebbed corner of their memory. | 6 | 0 | 18 | 213,372 |
[WP] Soon enough, the rain will wash off the trail I left behind in the mud. No one will know what I did. | [deleted] | 2 | 0 | 18 | 213,373 |
[WP] You own a small company that specializes in demolishing haunted houses, removing cursed burial sites, and such. Try as they might, the demonic forces inhabiting these places are unable to stop you. One day, a tall figure walks into your office, smelling like a mix of sulfur and incense... | **Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.
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[WP] 3 guys in a submarine traverse a deep ocean and find ruins. There are 3 statues bearing an uncanny likeness to them. Spooked, they look away for a moment only to find the statues have disappeared without a trace. | **Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.
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[WP] 3 guys in a submarine traverse a deep ocean and find ruins. There are 3 statues bearing an uncanny likeness to them. Spooked, they look away for a moment only to find the statues have disappeared without a trace. | "What do you see?" Asked the voice on the radio.
Charlène saw. Or thought she saw. The ressemblance was uncanny.
Charlène, well protected from the crushing pressure by her heavy diving suit and so far underwater that no natural light could reach her. She and her team were on the lookout for a new species of fish.
Her lamp was illuminating a statue of herself atop a sunken palace.
Here, at a depth no human had ever explored. Charles and Emma were at her side, amazed and afraid of equally lifelike statues made after them.
Yet, the statue was almost too beautiful. The eyes had a deep blackness to them, spreading their shadows to the marble white face. The hair - algae? - flew seamlessly into the ornate dress, as if the statue was wearing the deep sea itself.
Charlène raised a hand, touched the cold stone.
And the world was beautiful. Still in her diving suit, she was walking on white sand. Emma and Charles followed close. They took away their helmets, the air was brisk and refreshing.
They were at the surface. Yet the radio gave no sound, as if they had reached the end of the world and gone beyond.
Charles pointed at the jungle. Between the foliage, deep, dark eyes. They appeared humanoid, with two legs and arms. Yet the color of their skin was of a strange variety. Sulfur yellow, with deep dark gashes. Others were like bronze.
"Holy shit!" Emma shouted.
Emerging all around them, a flood of them, the color of the abyss, so numerous, the water was hard to make out between them.
Fear. That's what Charlène felt. She withstood the stress of the mission, was ready for the instant crushing should the suit fail. But here, her training was meaningless.
They didn't do a thing. Only watched as Charles, Emma and Charlène recognized they were cut off from the outside world and that the equipment was useless.
When they walked, the beings made place. When they made a simple hut from foliage, the beings followed suit. Emma, after some mental back and forth, made a crude axe with split wood and a sharp stone.
Despite the black eyes, Emma recognized the amazement, the near worship born from her simple tool.
"Who are they?" Asked Charles.
"They are like a blank canvas," she replied.
Had they evolved from underseas? A split group like neanderthals? They had the intelligence to imitate and learn, yet it was like they had never learned a single thing until the trio came along.
And the beings were aware of it.
So they took care of the trio. Offered them food, safety, worship and servitude. Their black eyes showed their innermost desire. *Teach us*.
Step by step, the stone was smoothed to make it into stairs. Ink dots completed the map of the gigantic island and the depths below. The furnace was cooking the raw fish into delicious food. The trio, with a near godlike statute, showed them the basics of mathematics, cartography, medicine. With just a few pointers to show them how to improve on their own.
They struggled, stumbled, but like good children, learned and improved.
When they learned about housing, they set out to build a palace. With maps, they would unveil the world. With art, they would live after death.
How long had it been? Charlène remembered a day when she walked the abyss in a diving suit as in a haze. Maybe it was a dream, a dream that had become a founder's myth. After all, her children had seen her climb up from the sea, thus her dream had given her birth.
She shaped her children.
Her children shaped her back.
She shared their eyes, didn't become wet when diving in the clear sea. The water invited her in as if she always belonged. Here she remained, drifting, asleep, sometimes feeling the presence of the rest of the trinity.
Above, the palace rose, children grew and loved and died, with a last smile for the next generation.
When she awoke, her children chanted and prayed. They showed her how far they had come since she left.
Huts were houses. Songs had meaning and carried history. Paintings were messages, intricate meaning hidden in the flick of a pencil. And on the center, the palace. Made from stone carved deep underwater, the undertaking of an eternity, finally complete.
The trinity went up the stairs, dressed in the sea and wind themselves. Up there, the basalt and marble allowed them to see the entire island.
Their world.
A crack.
It was imperceptible at first. It's the tide, the moon, it's a coincidence.
No, the island was sinking. Too much weight. The trinity urged their children to swim away, find new land and rebuild.
But they wouldn't leave their parents. When the tide took the jungle and the houses, they didn't budge, only watched the trinity with love. When the doors and windows of the palace leaked and most children were underwater, they smiled.
The children followed them under. Charlène was ready to sink and die with the island. As penance for her pride, Emma and Charles agreed.
But children's love knows no bounds. They embraced their parents, their makers, their gods. When the children opened their arms, the trinity had become as solid and eternal as the rocks from the abyss the palace was made of.
There, the trinity watched their children slowly die without their guidance. Devolving into barbarians, turning to simpler life forms. Losing limbs, growing scales. Simple beings, who would one day emerge on solid land and evolve again.
It would take a long time.
A long, long time.
Slumber, a deep, empty dream as time passed, irrelevant.
Light in the darkness.
Charlène's petrified eyes saw the diver in the suit, face obscured by the helmet. She felt the light upon her. Saw a hand extending.
"Wait!" Shouted Charlène from her suit, hand an inch away from the statue.
She had seen it all. Or thought she had seen.
She shook her head.
"We can't do that," she said.
"What do you see? Can you hear me?" Said the voice on the radio.
Charlène took a step back, Emma and Charles did the same.
The three slowly retreated, and turned away. Charlène dared a last look.
Nothing.
The statues were gone, vanished as if they had never been.
"Nothing," she said in her radio, "there's nothing to be found here. Let's try further away tomorrow." | 24 | 0 | 115 | 213,376 |
[WP] 3 guys in a submarine traverse a deep ocean and find ruins. There are 3 statues bearing an uncanny likeness to them. Spooked, they look away for a moment only to find the statues have disappeared without a trace. | &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Hugo felt the thrum of the engine in the small three-man submersible as he bathed in the dark navy blue light pouring in from the perfect acrylic sphere that surrounded him and his two brothers. Two forward facing lights lit the ocean floor ahead of them revealing ruins from a forgotten time. They were going to be famous.
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"Incredible, we are at 500 meters, how could this get here?" said Hugo. He shifted the submersible to reveal a group of three statues. The marble looked as if it had been carved yesterday and showed no signs of wear.
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"Go to the other side, I want to see the front of them," said Rich, the oldest brother. The submersible crawled along in the ocean, turning and maneuvering with precision until they were face to face with the three statues.
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"Ha, they look like us," said Mark, the youngest brother. He had laughed, but Hugo and Rich exchanged concerned looks.
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Hugo looked down at the watch on his wrist and then back up at the statues, "it has a watch matching mine, how..." he said. All three looked at Hugo's watch and then back up at the statues which were...gone. The three sat agape, looking where the statues ought to be when the ruins shifted and gave way. The sandy tan of the ocean floor replaced by black nothingness, the pillars and ruins by giant three meter teeth, the statues by a grotesque tongue.
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"Up, up," Mark shouted. Hugo slammed the lever to fill the main ballast tanks with compressed air to surface the submersible, but it wasn't quick enough. The blackness pulled the water down and the submersible with it. The teeth closed around them.
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*Crunch* | 6 | 0 | 115 | 213,377 |
[EU] In exile, you are the last political leader. Viewing the increasingly corrupt Scythedom, you know what you need to do. | **Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.
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[WP] You are one of the most powerful beings in the world, but you were content to just be a "normal" civilian. However, the heroes failed to stop the local doomsday monster and you had to step in. Now the superheroes want you to join them, and random villains keep showing up to challenge you. | **Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.
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[WP] You are one of the most powerful beings in the world, but you were content to just be a "normal" civilian. However, the heroes failed to stop the local doomsday monster and you had to step in. Now the superheroes want you to join them, and random villains keep showing up to challenge you. | "Selfish git" the head of the 'Hyper-Sapien League for Global Defense', 'HSLGD' or, my personal favourite, used by supervillains everywhere (and I mean *real* supervillains, ones who have outsmarted the world's brightest countless times): The Crackheads. The name originally came from a widespread 'rumour' that they'd all gotten their powers artificially. That is, exposing themselves to different chemicals and radiation in hopes that they gain a superpower.
"How am I selfish? I stepped out of retirement to save the world, that's not selfish."
"You knew we were having trouble! And you did nothing! Dark Light is dead!" Dark Light was one of the more interesting superheroes. The ability to encapsulate his surroundings in a dark so thick you could choke on it. I also happen to know that he hadn't always used his powers for good.
"Who's fucking idea was it to send a *single* hero to try and disarm it? Cause his blood is on their hands, not mine." I said, and stormed out of their precious 'HQ'. I should've just left this world and started a new life somewhere else. I probably could have as well, with the power of that machine. The first ever fusion reactor, and the guy to get his hands on it decides to hold the world to ransom with it. Pity, humanity could've used that little toy. I warped back to my home, the sensation used to feel weird about 10,000 years ago. Now it feels like second nature. There was someone in my living room.
"Hello, *David Jackson*," they said in a forced menacing voice. I just burst out laughing, air escaping my lungs as if a fire was raging down there. Well, I guess there is actually. The reason I'd picked such a mundane name was to blend in but it just sounds too good when said in the classic evil villain voice.
"Name?"
"I.... uh," Their act dropped for a bit before picking up the menacing voice again. "I am Crow's Nest, and you'd do well to do as I say."
"Oh really? And why would that be?" I asked, and the boy opened his mouth. "You know what? no. I don't fancy the knowledge at the moment." I said and charged before he could do anything. What should I use? Divine retribution, pagan torture or demonic tomfuckery? I decided a mix of the three, but by the time I'd started the spells I couldn't see a thing. I'd faced Dark Light a couple times before, he was a lot older than all of the other heroes, but not nearly as old as me. But this power definitely reminded me of him. But this isn't Dark Light, not the one I remembered anyway. He was more cartoon villain than before, and he never went picking fights with me. Well, not after the first one anyway.
"Like my little trick?"
"Not really," I said as I burst forth into one of the many forms I'd taken over the years, Archangel Gabriel himself. I confess he used to exist, but I went and slaughtered the self righteous assholes that call themselves divine. They sent millions of people into hell because they didn't believe in christianity WHEN THERE WAS NO CHRISTIANITY DURING THEIR LIFETIME! I did the same to hell as well, those debaucherous fuckwits never learned to just stop bothering me and my village. Anyway, one upside to that is that I was able to absorb Gabriel's life force, meaning I lit up the room as bright as a star. My attacker screamed as his retinas were blinded. I quickly resumed my normal form and, with a flick of my wrist had him tied up and warped onto the HSLGD dining table with a nice little note from me. Now, what was I about to do? Ah yes, my tea. | 7 | 0 | 31 | 213,380 |
[WP]There is a merchant who sells everything imaginable in the known universe, physical and abstract, and he resides in the ring that the hero is now holding. The merchant says that the first thing the hero buys is free. | **Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.
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Every twelve years a small town is haunted by the “Christmas Killer.” The killer kills 12 people and arranges their body in accordance with the song, “the twelve days of Christmas” (This year will be the 12th time the killer comes to this town. | Your submission has been removed because it is not properly tagged. Please repost your prompt, starting with a correct capitalized tag, enclosed in square brackets in the title.
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[WP] Rocky, a beastman private investigator arrives at the scene of the murder of a dwarf. | **Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.
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[WP] Rocky, a beastman private investigator arrives at the scene of the murder of a dwarf. | Hi u/Rex_McKey, this submission has been removed.
Prompts go in the title, do not extend into text. You can add commentary in the text, but don't add additional prompt restrictions. Also, avoid [too many details](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/prompts?src=RECIPE).
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[WP] Every twelve years a small town is haunted by the “Christmas Killer.” The killer murders 12 people(one each day for twelve days) and arranges the bodies in accordance with the song, “The 12 Days of Christmas.” This year will be the 12th year the killer comes to town. | **Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.
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[WP] A time traveler has been captured by the government. You've been conducting the interrogation to get... useful information. | **Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.
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Someone smuggles a marijuana cigarette into your jail cell, and you realize that you're scheduled to represent yourself in court in a half hour. | Your submission has been removed because it is not properly tagged. Please repost your prompt, starting with a correct capitalized tag, enclosed in square brackets in the title.
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[WP] You are a detective who has the ability to read minds. | **Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.
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[PM] Give me two-ish characters and a romantic situation to write. | **Welcome to the Post!** This is a [\[PM\] Prompt Me](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/how_to_tag_prompts#wiki_pm.3A_prompt_me).
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[PM] Give me two-ish characters and a romantic situation to write. | A Redditor (like me!) and their girlfriend (who doesn’t exist...) enjoy a candlelit dinner | 15 | 0 | 84 | 213,390 |
[PM] Give me two-ish characters and a romantic situation to write. | Emotionally closed off man gets set up with a bubbly woman by their friends who are dating. He loves DnD, books, and movies. She loves almost everything, and is super excited to learn about his interests. They are meeting at a fancy restaurant set up by their friends, he is uncomfortable because it's so fancy and she is disturbing the other patrons with her excitement and loud conversation. | 7 | 0 | 84 | 213,391 |
[PM] Give me two-ish characters and a romantic situation to write. | A firefighter having to save the guy they’ve had a crush for two years from a burning hospital | 21 | 0 | 84 | 213,392 |
[PM] Give me two-ish characters and a romantic situation to write. | Mid 1960s America, the son of a politician just came out to his family right after his college graduation, which didn't go well. Now him and his boyfriend fresh back from Vietnam are trying to help each other through there own issues. | 9 | 0 | 84 | 213,393 |
[PM] Give me two-ish characters and a romantic situation to write. | Two herpetologists meet at a snake convention and fall in love with the same cobra, which in turn leads them to develop feelings for each other in an awkward way. | 2 | 0 | 84 | 213,394 |
[PM] Give me two-ish characters and a romantic situation to write. | A seraphim and a human which keeps on pissing God off *just* enough for him to send a Seraph down to tell him off but not enough to actually do anything, enemies to lovers style | 3 | 0 | 84 | 213,395 |
[PM] Give me two-ish characters and a romantic situation to write. | A rich Victorian lady ends up in the stone age through some time travel shenanigans. There she discovers that who she thinks are "savages" treat her very well, so long as she contributes to the tribe, and she falls in love with a member of the tribe. | 3 | 0 | 84 | 213,396 |
[PM] Give me two-ish characters and a romantic situation to write. | Two high school sweethearts, went different ways and got married. Years later and spouseless now, they find each other. | 1 | 0 | 84 | 213,397 |
[PM] Give me two-ish characters and a romantic situation to write. | A couple who used to be wildly in love, have just realized after 10 years of marriage they are headed toward divorce because life got in the way. This is their last ditch effort to prove they want to stay together. | 3 | 0 | 84 | 213,398 |
[PM] Give me two-ish characters and a romantic situation to write. | Two people are in love with with same person and said person has been kidnapped so they go to rescue them, only to get kidnapped themselves. They find that they don’t hate each other as much as they originally assumed. | 1 | 0 | 84 | 213,399 |
[PM] Give me two-ish characters and a romantic situation to write. | Two guys- each has a bit of a crush on each other- meet in a bar, and proceed to get rather drunk. Only problem? Both don’t know the other is gay, and think the other is homophobic. | 17 | 0 | 84 | 213,400 |
[PM] Give me two-ish characters and a romantic situation to write. | A depressed teen stands on the edge of a bridge about to jump, but is stopped by a very drunken person who is more than happy to introduce them to the pleasures of hedonism.
(Not my idea, stole it from some meme I saw a while ago) | 2 | 0 | 84 | 213,401 |
Subsets and Splits