The last character I created needs a little explaining, I have created a universe in which sometimes a form of matter known as "glitch" appears. This matter disrupts space time, is highly unstable, and is not meant to exist. When a living organism collides with such matter, it can corrupt that creature into an all powerful being of death and destruction with no remorse for its actions. The last character I have thought of is Glyoqxzine, (best pronunciation possible by a human tongue) this is the most powerful known "glitched being" and singlehandedly destroyed 57 dimensions (a dimension in this case is one of the infinite 3D cross-sections of a 4D universe, makes sense in context) before being wiped out by a glitched hypernova, a supernova like event where the star is filled with glitched matter. Since it is so unstable, when it finally does explode, depending on the size of the star it can destroy a dimension on its own. Not that much so far, because I thought of it a few days ago in band class, but I will soon come up with some of the horrendous acts of destruction it committed when it was alive. These things can destroy entire planets with a swing of their hand. (but usually don't since it causes more suffering to have it slowly burn away as the last few moments flash before the eyes of those unfortunate enough to have survived this long, the agony coursing through their veins, well all they have ever loved is incinerated right in front of their very eyes. Death is sudden, pain is eternal)

FWOOMP

"JESUS CHRIST, what the fuck Troy?!"

"I-I dunno dude! I was just doodling dicks and I added a sick looking fireball shooting out of one and it did that!"

"Bro, are you fucking high? You can't just summon a freaking Mario fireball by doodling! Where's the fucking lighter, man? Where're you hiding-"

FWOOMP

"JESUS CHRIST TROY!"

"It did it again! You try!"

"NO dude, you nearly set the ceiling-"

"Look, just shut up and try it, okay? Here, take my notebook - copy that, right there!"

"...All right, fine, but you're showing me where you're hiding that-"

FWOOMP

"Ah FUCK!"

"DUDE it worked for you too! Lemme see! Oh, you copied the dick too? Does it work without it?"

...

"Huh. Guess you need the dick too?"

"Okay cool, but can you try drawing something that won't set the house on fire?"

"Oh great idea! Lemme try beer! ...How the hell do you draw beer? Maybe if I do something like this..."

zzzZZZWOMP

"Oh just fucking great man, now there's a weird slime thing in the kitchen. Just great."

"It's kinda cute though."

"Bro, it's leaving a weird ooze trail everywhere. Take your slime and fireballs and weird magic shit outside dude."

"Your mom's leaving a weird ooze trail!"

"..."

"...Okay, okay, jeez! Tough audience! Whatever, c'mon uh... Mr. Slime. Can I call you that?"

glorp

"..."

"..."

"...Hey Troy?"

"What up?"

"Lemme know if you figure out the doodle for beer."

My short stint as a runic sorcerer began during a boring sales presentation made by a company peddling yet another digital whiteboard. Nimble with the stylus on my Galaxy Note 7, I'd been creating the most hilariously inappropriate shapes on the notepad when the device burst into a column of flame. My colleagues thought it impossible that I hadn't been injured, so I made a joke that I'd rediscovered runic magic. I expected them to laugh and think nothing of it, so it came as a complete surprise when two people who worked in marketing nodded their heads in serious agreement.

Recently divorced and bored with my life, I decided to go along with it. I told myself it would be fun to string them along and see how far I could take the joke. So I began talking about how I was a rune researcher, had looked into several old scrolls, and knew a variety of spells. Everyone except the two marketing people laughed and walked away. They started asking questions, eventually wanting to know how they could gain the same magical powers themselves. Needing to cover for the origin of my powers, I told them that they were too inexperienced to know my secrets. They asked if they could come over to my apartment sometime, and I said "why the hell not?"

Later that night I researched runic magic for real, learning everything I could about ancient epigraphy and Tacitus. When my co-workers came over for dinner I wowed them with my breadth of knowledge on the topic, telling them that they needed to study "ancient Germanic languages," and that they needed to read a list of eleven books I'd compiled. I'd even put together a scroll of spells that I could cast, with names that sounded like formal versions of several spells out of the 5th edition D&D players handbook, such as "sphere of chromaticus" and "missile of arcanic power." They asked when they could begin casting these spells, showing that they hadn't thought critically about a word I said. I honestly couldn't believe they were that gullible. So I told them that not only did they need to do everything I'd already said, but that they'd also need to take a six-week intensive course with a faerie overlord named "Druphennia." At this point I really expected the gig to be up, but they asked "where do I sign up?"

Unable to create anything more off the top of my head, I told them I'd look into it and that I'd have an answer for them in a couple of days. I hadn't really begun to brainstorm a solution by the next day when they came to me with five of their friends, who also somehow believed I had the capability to give them magical powers and also wanted to take the course. So told them all that they'd need to quit their jobs and spend six weeks out in the woods eating mushrooms and praying to Druphennia. That got a couple of them to shake their heads and bow out, but five of them were all in.

That was the point where I started to regret the whole thing. I told the crowd to write down their names and I would talk to Druphennia. The next day I told them all that Druphennia was too busy to accept new students right now, and that there'd be a waiting list. All of them wanted to be on it, despite the fact that I told them it could be fifty years before they were accepted.

Once they realized that they couldn't learn magic themselves, they started asking me to do spells for them, to which I answered that I wasn't allowed to practice magic in real life and that the ordeal with the Note 7 had purely been an accident. This made the whole thing less appealing to all of them except a woman named Mary. That Friday night she called me up and said she was going to practice for Druphrennia by spending part of her weekend out in the wilderness eating mushrooms. I told her not to and that some mushrooms could be dangerous, but she brushed it off.

With nothing else to do, I went to her house. She led me into the woods behind her place. At this point, I was prepared to confess the whole thing, as the last thing I wanted to do was continue this charade for nothing, but I decided to keep my mouth shut when she showed me a circle of trees covered in strange runes. I thought she had taken this way too far when she told me to kneel down in front of the trees. I tried to say that it was all for naught, all a lie. She told me to hush.

The last words I heard before she teleported me were, "we don't allow imposters."

r/StoriesToThinkAbout

Wonderful. Well-written, punchy, elicited a reaction. Well fucking done.

I was hit by a dump truck and got sent to dump truck land. When I arrived there, I found out I needed to get hit by a hot dog truck, but hot dogs didn't exist so I had to invent a hot dog first. Once I got my hot dog business started I didn't want to return home because it was a satisfying job. But alas, I went to pick up a packet of mustard a customer dropped infront of the truck and forgot to put the hot dog truck into park. I woke up at the quarry in the nurse station. She offered me a hot dog. I said "hold the mustard" as a tear rolled down my cheek.

I was expecting like, ghost stories and mental health stuff, but not "beings from another realm" and I quite like it!

Always happy to twist writing prompts into unexpected directions. 😀 I'm glad you liked it! Just curious though, what were you originally anticipating with the responses to you writing prompt?

[removed]

Shaking, crying, the three females huddle together. I could glare at Gabreal, but there would be no point. They've been holding this favor in their robes since Eden's end. Of all the beings they could call on though, they choose me to play fill in for this? Sure, two of the females are young. Not old enough to breed, as far as I can tell. Old enough they don't need to nurse, maybe?

They sigh. "They are not old enough to need to nurse, no. They are both twins, and a year out from reaching sexual maturity. Not that that stopped..."

My eyes flick over to theirs. Gab can't lie for shit. They also suck at hiding things, and they know me very well. Others would see it as them maipulating me, but I know. They didn't want me to know that. They know what it will mean. Unlike Satan's spawn, the Devil's have rules. We're known for it. Don't get me wrong, we are just as cruel as our cousins. And our rules don't make us "better" then them by any means. But we Devils all have some rules.

Mine are simple. Bargain only for yourself. Simple in theory, but there is nuance to everything. A mother bargaining to save their child is doable. A father offering his daughter as payment though... It's two other rules that made him choose me. The two rules that make my kin cautious of me. Leave no orphans. Harm no innocents.

Harm. No. Innocents.

Gab and I stand there, looking each other into the eye. Around us a pair of hounds materialize and move towards the females. They are scared, which is fair. Even hidden behind my Seemings hellhounds are no small things to have approch you in the depth of night. But my hounds are good hounds. Within minutes of the hounds whining and begging for attention, the young have bonded with them and all five are huddling together. The hounds will keep them warm enough, for now.

"Gabreal, this I ask of thee, my honored friend, my ancient enemy. Did you choose me to guard them, or to avenge them?"

They turn their eyes from me, looking down at the females. The weight of their contemplation doesn't seem to affect them, though one of my hounds snarls at him where the females can't see. "Amodagon, this I answer thee, my beloved friend, my honored enemy. You I choose to guard them, but I know one thing to be true. Those who harmed them hunt them still, and when they find them again, the only thing that will keep these females alive is you." They bow their head, and turn away. "I am sorry, Dag. So sorry that yet again I will be the reason you bloody your hands."

I nod slowly, before waving a hand dismissively at him. "Go. Keeping three females alive won't be hard, though my methods may not meet your approval. And should the ones who harmed them arrive, know that they will not be threats for long." The looks on his face is priceless as I push him back towards heaven with a final phrase. "After all, how much harm could one Devil's son really do?"

Of all the devils, he chose me. Realities filled with other divine creatures, lesser gods, spirits and others. He could of chose any of them.

Besides. Atlantis had it coming.

Looking forward to these.

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Considering the fact that most people here write fantasy prompts and fantasy stories (Myself included, I do understand why many of your prompts are ignore.

Utmost respect for realistic prompts though, it takes a bit of skill to write them and for them.

Intresting that you also put your Irl probelms in it.

I tend to reply to nearly any post in my prompts as they gave a good try, perhaps I should take leaf of your example.

Thank you!

Live in the US, I'm a she, been off and on Reddit for at least a decade. I'm a writer been writing since I could write. I have stories and shit on Wattpad under Baibug123 the picture has a ginger anime chick. Motivation is my own creations made to cope with past traumatic childhood. I use whatever I have to write. My writing speed depends on my creative flow.so slow when I'm stuck and fast enough I can't keep up with my brain.

Enjoy my crazy and creative ramblings. My writing style is still juvenile, but I combine historical and biblical with nonfiction and modern times. I cover a wide range of things from straight to LGBTQ and try to educate in my stories....researching things such as who ruled a section of Japan during the Edo period to the exact year the Tower of Babel was smooshed. Don't mind my smartass quips...it's how I show my affection.

https://www.wattpad.com/user/baibug123

Most of my prompts do not require fantasy elements. I limit myself to posting at most one a day. Usually they're based on a real problem or observation, but I translate it so it's not identifiable. And abstract it to hint how a story could be made out of it without binding responders to any unnecessary particulars. Like, two choices but would it be cheating to combine them? That one got struck down as too abstract, so sometimes I add arbitrary particulars. Like, big mac vs filet o fish but maybe I can ask for tartar sauce on big mac?

Some days I get a prompt-writing binge, like recently "any time I changed my ways is a prompt". Then I have a file where I can stash away unlimited potential prompts. Later if I'm feeling that posting prompts is worthwhile, I can pull from that file once a day if nothing else jumps out at me. I put a star in the file by the ones I've already posted.

Most of my prompts are ignored. That's fine. Prompts aren't the important thing here, stories are. I try not to respond to my own prompts, but sometimes I do anyways, but when I do I give others a few hours lead time. I try to write roughly as many stories as prompts, preferably to other people's prompts. I used to try to do 2x as many critiques of stories as I do stories, but I haven't even done 1x recently. I only critique stories I like.

"- chart shows the trend in sales over time."

I was spacing out during one of our corporate events. They were supposed to be informative, helping us understand how we could help the company. But I was confident in saying that most of us found it mind numbingly boring.

I procured a pen, along with one of the many free notepads lying on the table. My first thought was to start a game of noughts and crosses, but a glance at my seat neighbours quelled it. They were staring at the projector, but with glazed over eyes. Disturbing them would be rude. So I just decided to doodle.

The first were a couple of poor renditions of pokemon. I didn't play it, but my nephew loved them. I had picked up a bit of knowledge from his excited chatter, a much more pleasant one-sided conversation than the one I was currently being subjected to. But with those out of my system, I just took to making random scribbles.

As I drew it, it made me think of fire. I didn't know why, but the shape of my doodle was very indicative of flames. I brought my line back to the start, finishing the doodle in an easy line.

As I completed it, there was a whooshing sound. The doodle flashed, a football sized ball of flames wrenching itself free. It shot upwards, slamming into the ceiling tiles and spreading out in a wave of heat. The tiles instantly caught fire, soon followed by the wail of the fire alarm.

Screams filled the room, as my colleagues saw the result of my doodle. It jolted them awake, leading to a stampede as people tried to flee. I followed suit, less in fear of the fire, and more in fear of what people would think if they knew it was my fault. We poured through the exits, as the sprinkler systems finally activated.

When we got outside, I realised that in my escape I had taken hold of my claimed notepad. Glancing at my doodle, I saw the line had become blackened. The blue ink I had used was gone, seemingly burned away.

I tucked it away, concentrating on getting past this aftermath first. I wanted to know just what I had done, but this was neither the time nor place. Whatever this was, I had a feeling that letting other people realise it was my fault would not bode well for my privacy or autonomy.

This is beautiful. Thank you

‘You need to return’

I stared at the child finally asleep in the dark room with only light coming through the cracks on the curtain, the voice carried on the light itself.

‘No’

‘Your purpose is complete. If you do not return you will be bound and your essence will be erased’

My friend and brother, with me even after I fell, was not wrong. 29 years with my ward and my task was complete. If I continued to stay on this plane my very essence would disappear and my own mother could not save me.

I growled from the corner across from the child, the darkness wrapping around me ‘I will not leave my charge. I have been entrusted their safety and will never go back on my word my old friend. I may be fallen but I do not lie, we can not lie’

The voice carried on the light began to grow, concern and anger on every word ‘You can not do this! You will be bond to this plane. There is not future in this line and I will not let you cease!’ I could hear the sadness now take hold as the voice quivered and the light flickers and rises ‘Please….don’t leave me brother’

My eyes never leaving the child knew they were awake. Their brown eyes piercing the darkness of the room looking directly at me. The child slowly rose and I followed suit as the darkness of the room began to over take even the light that was coming through the cracks. Small tiny steps that only a 4 year only could make marched toward me. All I could do was wait for this child to stop in front of me, reaching their tiny hand out.

‘You need to sleep little one, come let us go back to your bed’ I said as I reached one of my hands out to take theirs. My claws and scales massive and grotesque as this little hand gripped my longest finger. We moved slowly back to their bed before they began to weep. Something that was now normal over this week but I could not bear. Stroking the child’s hair slowly to help comfort them as they returned to their dreams I returned my attention to the light. No longer bright as an afternoon sun but now shaded with red and yellow like the setting sun.

‘I can not leave my charge. Your ward entrusted me. She asked me, as I had been there for her, to be there for this child’ darkness slowly recessing and allowing the light more vibrancy.

‘You will be bonded to their bloodline’ the light flickered more as the tones changed. ‘Your ward dying in the accident was not the only tragedy. The child will never continue its line. You will fade away as they travel to their next plane’

Allowing my darkness to wrap the weeping child as they slowly drift into their dreams ‘I know, my dear brother, I know. I will do so happily, for I am pride’

Hope this is good. Normally just lurk but wanted the story in my head to come out for once.

Indeed. Could also tag some peeps to garner attention

Actually amazing prompt, need to push it to top in hopes of seeing stories by it

I'll be sure to do that!

Back when I had proper sleep and less troubles, I too got a lot of writing ideas from dreams.

Surprised that this is quite common

Well, I believe you can trying anyways, even if it is just for later, don't worry about posts picking up slack, not all can be winners and I'm sure something will.

Totaly understand

Sounds interesting, good luck getting through the second arc!

If you had to give them a name, what would it be?

They sound cool!