Oh I answered this while waiting for prompts to roll in on my post, haha!

This reminds me of a story of a creature that was really dumb but could foresee the future and survived by living only the future it liked most. I don't remember the name of the book.

Emile exhaled shakily, a thin funnel of smoke billowing away from pursed lips. His hand fell to his side. His pointer and middle fingers gripped a half-drawn cigarette, the golden ember at its tip glowing brightly like a firefly. A dull luster from a streetlight trickled through the single window in front of him. He didn’t bother flipping the lights on when he walked in. He knew they’d be coming for him soon.

He reached up and grabbed the brim of his hat, pulling it off of his head. He turned it to look at its front. Deep red stains dotted its crown and trim. He hadn’t looked at himself in a mirror but he was sure those stains weren’t confined to the hat. He hadn’t been very neat, after all.

His ears jerked, catching faint sounds of sirens somewhere in the distance, just barely recognizable over the late night din of the bar below his office.

He took a deep drag from his cigarette. He was hoping they’d have come a little sooner, before he’d had time to think about it all. It wasn’t like he’d made it difficult for them to find him. He’d scribbled a note on a wrinkled piece of paper he’d pulled from the waste bin after he’d finished.

“You know where to find me. I’ll be sitting on my desk.

-Emile”

The sirens grew a little louder now.

He was worried that he might start to regret what he’d done. Well maybe not worried, per say, but certainly curious. He didn’t. Emile smiled at that.

The floor beneath his boots rumbled as the band below took up their instruments and started to play. Slow and long-drawn melodies reverberated through the street. Horns collided with the rhythm section like two heavyweight prize fighters in the tenth round, slowly shrugging tired arms at one another. Off-beat tones and lazy riffs. An island vibe offering stark contrast to the cold, driving autumn rain.

Laughter echoed outside. Beer bottles clinked and occasionally shattered as jovial revelers danced and moved with the music. Most of them, Emile imagined, were simple people. They worked regular jobs and lived with regular families and did regular things.

Life could be so easy.

But, alas, it wasn’t so easy. Not for Emile, at least. Not anymore.

The sirens were screaming now. Their shrieks interwoven with the band's melodies in a beautiful and terrible cacophony of sound. The dark corners of his office were exposed in flashes of blue and red.

He looked down and rotated his wrist toward his chest to check his watch. 1:24 am.

Emile always wondered how it would feel. How it would happen for the first time. He thought again of the patrons at the bar and their simple lives. Part of him wished he was like them, sharing in their dull lives and pedestrian desires. But he wasn’t like them. He was extraordinary. And he had extraordinary needs.

Brakes squealed in front of his building. Laughter and conversation subsided as the partygoers grew hushed and confused. The music never stopped.

Emile stood and turned his back to his office door. He unclasped the buttons of his jacket, letting it swing open.

Boots thumped rhythmically as officers ascended the staircase, like ants marching in a line.

Ants always do what they’re told. Ants never think for themselves.

He reached into the scabbard tucked beneath his jacket and pulled free the knife. He wiped each face of the blade against his pant leg. He flipped the knife to hold it by its hilt, the blade facing downward.

The door to his office smashed open.

Emile exhaled. A wry smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

Finally.

Sometimes people come home and now they have a cat. It's a child in your case.

How are you here???

I will be so happy if This giant beast that just crushed him who is named George

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 and Simple Prompts for stricter titles >* Be civil in any feedback and follow the rules

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

I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please contact the moderators of this subreddit if you have any questions or concerns.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DpXy041BIlA

(note, though, that this is not the same elo scale as human participants, but it does show that it takes work to get down to 100)

I often like to imagine this scenario, funny enough.

I don't know whether she knew I love fencing and I was practicing home, thankfully alone... I can not dispatch these foes especially the ones with magic but, I can tutor the melees what comes on danger of sharp objects, because modern day fencing is absolutely nuts in terms of it's depth, tricks, tools, approaches and escapes.

I quickly sting lethal wound on first two who came at me, first one came at me with too wide stance and weapon attack arc to knock my weapon away, quick feint, step forward and sting into the throat left this one absolutely flabbergasted and second one immediately came at me as I was pulling my weapon out. Quick pivot of my body to left and back off.

This one seems to be observing me, I need to finish this quick, so I employ a weak lunge to try to suss out his defensive and it bought it but, I stole it back by capitalizing on his weapon's moving away from center too much and quickly parry then deep stab wound into gut, who knows what these things bleed. It isn't pretty that is all I will say.

I go to my girlfriend who has been keeping enemy magicians busy. She smiles warmly and wide as came to her side 'I was alone... Be thankful of that' I say 'Geared up and ready to go too it seems' she says and began to hide her enjoyment of the situation 'Geared up? I mean, at least the bare minimal' I say sounding somewhat worried.

'Oh come on, a guy like you ought to...' she managed to say before we both had to dodge incoming projectiles and take cover 'Maybe later?' I ask from my own 'Later' she says with some worry in her voice as that honestly was a bit too close even for her liking 'Get out?' I ask as this situation is not good as I take a peek and immediately see another projectile.

It hit my cover and didn't break it but, enemies have ranged advantage 'Yes, this way' she says becoming a bit sober of the situation I think. We start running and soon appear in my home's basement, her clothing are absolutely gorgeous. We both give ourselves time to breath and I take off the helmet. Gelia had turned towards me but, before she could say anything.

I give her a kiss on her lips which made her first very surprised but, she gives me another kiss and we hug each other keeping lips locked for at least ten seconds. Once we stopped the kiss, she looks into my eyes with wide smile telling of her enjoyment and mischievous side. Her clothing transforms to her normal ones and we just share this moment with each other.

'I guess we are done dating finally' Gelia says and giggles 'We are, with one condition' I say smiling warmly to her and throwing the blade in a safe way towards a weapon rack. 'Let me guess, no more close calls?' Gelia asks and sets her head against my chest. She can clearly hear my heartbeat. I set my own head lightly on her hairs.

'Yes' I say and quickly start carrying her which made her yelp in humorous (at least in my opinion) and surprised manner. She wasn't so amused by it as she pouted for a moment as I carry her up from my basement but, then just accepts it. I give indication that I am going to stop carrying her and she stands on her own again. We are in kitchen of my house.

I am guessing she secretly enjoyed that. An office working, who secretly does visit a gym and love for fencing that I have a saber in my home. 'Nice moves, awful looking helmet and suit though' she says 'I haven't trained wearing any armor and I have a feeling it is useless there where we were' I say.

'They are, will you one day teach me to what you did?' Gelia asks 'I will when you ask' say 'Tell me Sam, how do you feel about me?' Gelia asks and I reply with a kiss on her cheek 'I love you' I say and smile warmly, Gelia looks slightly relieved and smiles warmly back to me 'I love you' Gelia says as we hug again. Something grumbles somewhat loudly. It is her stomach.

'I haven't eaten for a while. Can we make something to eat?' Gelia asks little bit embarrassed but, relieved as I just smile and hum in humored manner 'Let's get to it then, love' I say 'I prefer if you use my name, my love, Sam' Gelia says 'As you wish Gelia' I say and we start setting up to make something to eat.

The narrator may be words on a page, but there are many more words where they came from.

It was hard speaking publicly about matters important to oneself. But Shiva knew she had to try anyway. Why else? Her traits— of valour, honour, tinged with a British accent that was absolutely unable to be heard of save the additional "u's" and improper appropriation of posh English— demanded that she be truthful to herself.

As did the plot, for if she did not speak then the midway point would hang in useless balance, and the writer, God, whatever, needed this godforsaken story to hurry on.

Of course, Shiva didn't know she was just words on a page. She sipped her tea as if life was not inherently meaningless— empty!— ridiculous.

Shiva stood up, every step purposeful and swept past the courtyard, as if she had any sort of real autonomy whatsoever once she stepped out of her tea room. Her head tilted back and forth, as her eyes wound to find her lover: and oh, it is her lover, pretty pink Veronica with her eyes shining happy.

Happy, like her existence was not a mere magician's trick.

Happy, as if this fictional relationship were true.

"I love you," Veronica said, pressing a softer kiss to Shiva's cheek. "Get out there. You'll make them all jealous."

Of course Shiva would. Such a fact was pre-determined, already: that was, until Act 3 rolled around and trampled on her false victory.

But how could a character like her know that?

Only the narrator would carry such a burden. Shiva smiled and met Veronica's eyes, dipping her head in a thank you, despite the fact that there was nothing to thank, nothing to do, nothing but this cruel, cruel predetermined world.

That only the narrator bore truth of.

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 and Simple Prompts for stricter titles >* Be civil in any feedback and follow the rules

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

I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please contact the moderators of this subreddit if you have any questions or concerns.

Oh this is amazing…

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 and Simple Prompts for stricter titles >* Be civil in any feedback and follow the rules

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

I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please contact the moderators of this subreddit if you have any questions or concerns.

Stop typing and go grab it (jk)

Write a story about personal growth, of a 9 armed 9 legged tailed 3 headed creature

nice story! I like the POV approach you've taken

'was it another one of our guys' haha said so casually lol

Hi u/ImperialArmorBrigade, this submission has been removed.

The mods reserve the right to remove anything we feel may become harmful to the community.

• This was removed based on the comments it's likely to attract, specifically via Rule 2

I'd suggest removing the "hyperfertility" mention, as this is likely to attract stories which break our rules

Modmail us if you have any questions or concerns. In the future, please refer to the sidebar before posting.

This action was not automated and this moderator is human. Time to go do human things.

The ship is quiet.

Always felt to me like a tomb. It doesn't help that there are about three thousand bodies aboard, lining the walls of three equally large rooms. They stare out from behind frosted glass, sightless and silent. Not dead, never dead, but not quite alive.

I sip my coffee and put my feet up.

I always get a little...morbid, about four months into my shift.

Two months to go. By the end of my six months on duty I will be downright terrifying. That's how it goes, when you're alone in space with nothing but a couple artificial intelligences to hang out with. You start going a little crazy.

Our job is to ferry a colonization crew out to a habitable planet. Thousands of years, each year divided into two shifts. Two hundred and fifty ship's crew, paid a fairly enormous bonus for each shift, watching over cold semi-corpses. We will each lose seventeen years of our lives. Each of us medically checked, each of us under the age of thirty-five. Each of us bored out of our minds while we watch the infinite nothingness pass us by.

At least the coffee is good.

Every five years we wake up a cadre of scientists. They review the collected data from our trip, long range scans and information gathered up by a half dozen AI systems. Apparently they made some big discovery on the last one, a whopping three years back now, and sent a pile of information out home. It would have reached home about a month or two ago, by my math.

They were very excited but very hush-hush.

But, if you get a scientist drunk, they tell you everything.

With the data they had, they'd figured it out. The thing that keeps us out here. FTL travel.

That was the good news.

The bad news was we couldn't make it work with what we had here. The scans revealed material sources that could be used. If the scientists at home could find those, or replicate them, they could do it. They could get there before us, and that is entirely unfair.

I'm shocked we didn't have the materials. We have almost everything.

Our colony ship is a behemoth. Stuffed full of the bodies, but also modular habitats and all the supplies we'll need to manage the start up. I will be forty by the time we arrive. Hell of a thing. It will be very cool to be one of the first to step onto an entirely new planet. So there's that.

I sigh and rub my hair. I've already lost four years. Eight shifts and just like that, I'm a different person. Sure gets boring, even with a library as stuffed with books and movies and music as the one the ship has.

"Sir. We have a contact." The voice breaks me out of my thoughts and I start up from the chair, spilling coffee everywhere. The voice is one we're not supposed to hear. Not ever. It's a rough, military voice. Reminds me of my drill sergeant.

"Contact?" I shout, leaning over the console. I see it. It's on approach and it looks big.

Very big.

"Who is it?" I ask.

"I have no identifying information. It appears to be seven kilometers in length and vaguely humanoid in construction. I suggest arming the proximity cannons, sir."

"Yeah, sure. It won't make a difference, but do it."

This ship has some defences, but they're meant to shoot down stray rocks and incoming projectiles that might pierce the hull, not defend the ship from a boarding. It's not that kind of ship.

There aren't any of that kind of ship.

"I have a visual." The AI says. I inspect it and my heart beats hard in my chest. I tilt my head and squint, just because I might be seeing it wrong.

There's no way.

It's impossible.

It's huge. It has a sloping nose and hundreds of compartments that line the sides and top. Heavy guns, smaller guns, what look like hangars. A command superstructure rises up nearer the back, multi-tiered and sleek. It's something out of a fucking movie.

I should wake the crew but I've forgotten myself.

I've forgotten everything.

Because that ship that came out of nowhere, the military looking thing that is bearing down on us, it's from home.

It's from Earth.

And I know that because the video screen reveals a message. It's written in block gray letters on the front of the ship. They must have worried they wouldn't be able to hail us. They're not wrong, we have lots of tech but our channels out are limited.

We weren't ever supposed to talk to anyone. We were supposed to be alone.

My heart is still pounding and I re-read the message. Then I re-re-read it.

Mayday

Trouble Ahead

Earth Sent Us

Mayday

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 and Simple Prompts for stricter titles >* Be civil in any feedback and follow the rules

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

I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please contact the moderators of this subreddit if you have any questions or concerns.

[removed]

Kizuna Ai

[removed]