"Omae wa mou shinderu. Henshin!"

Sorry.

For some reason I imagined him as a frail scholar that suddenly brings out a scythe/sickle then transforms Kamen Rider style into an armored dark knight. Lol.

Weird intrusive imagination aside, cool story! Thanks for the read.

Yeah I thought he was Aussie as soon as i read that. If not an Aussie then definitely a Pom 😂

Yeah I thought he was Aussie as soon as i read that. If not an Aussie then definitely a Pom 😂

So good - as soon as I read, oi cunt! - I knew he was Australian! 💚💛 it!

HAAAAAAHHH!

And the dirt is gone!

It would be like trying to put a bandana on a whirling, constantly shifting maelstrom, it would not work.

You don't speak like a White man.

Why don't you fight them instead of continued to be a slave?

Crystals tell time, and rocks think

I'm a narcissist that likes to talk about my own work.

I like the idea of this girl growing up and learning and having such a bright future, growing past family trauma. I like the udea of the father coming back when the stone did not grow, and demands his daughter back as payment not fair- the stone grew a tree, an impossibility- and gave them the task to look after the tree, as nurturing a tree and a child are the same. The family was happy and treated the tree well, but became greedy. when the family took advantage of the tree, it began to yield less fruit, and their methods, starving the tree to produce fruit made it taste bitter, trying to graft branches failed- and the god refused, as he kept his end of the deal, and if he was a better father and gardener he would not have lost the tree.

Maybe other families coming to offer children as brides, maybe even dressing boys as girls and hoping they could get accepted, and the god accepting all of them to get them away from parents that would sell their children off, so more of these wonderful fruit trees that sold fruit for a fortune was becoming less rare so they couldn't make as much money of them, but they will always be fed, with "wealth" and "bounty" meaning the same to the god.

Maybe a family, desperate and only knew of the story, exchanged their kid after hearing that the temple life was better then what they could offer- and later, one family comes back to buy back their child. Stumpy finds this insulting, having dealt with so many shitty parents he thinks it's so that the family can exchange their child for another tree. The family then cuts the tree down as proof they did not want another tree, and their child matters more then wealth.

Other gods think stumpy is sus because they hear about a god accepting child brides. One might have a follower investigate, one might even come to visit.

As years go by and these children go up, they move to other temples to help get them up and running again- a happy ending is that Stumpy is able to make the world better in a little way. A less happy ending is people believing his kids are cultists who would steal children, or worship an old, heretic God and need to be purged.

So a lot of fun ideas, thank you for the prompt! Honestly might base a warlock and patron off it.

[removed]

a lil background, those names were my old pennames.

a door suddenly emerged.

“congratulations, Piqueros! you have found an exit to the simulation.”

a voice rang inside our head as we watch the people around us evaporate into nothingness. it has been a few decades since we entered this damned world, hoping that we would really find ourselves. they ran countless experiments with us as their subject, observing our morning routine down to how we interact with each person that we met. they eventually found out that Maria have 4 personas inside her—

“kuro, grim, trux and chinchin, please head to the exit and leave the simulation.”

we looked at ourselves and seemed to reach a tacit understanding.

at first, it was weird that we have the same faces but we eventually got used to it. each personality differs from each other even though we were ‘molded’ from one person.

we came into this world with nothing but our own personalities and a single sentence rooted down into our brain— work together and find the exit. we asked ourselves, why work together?

we spent decades together and now we understand— it was to fully find out who we are. we guess that triggered the exit prompt?

“so... who's gonna exit first?” chinchin said.

we looked at her. silence filled the air as no one wanted to answer her question.

“aah, fuck it. let me go first and test the waters. i have no will to live after all— alive or dead, i dont care. take this as my contribution to the group.” grim uttered as she stood up and walked towards the door. we all have suicide ideations but hers is the strongest. we saw her heave a sigh before entering.

grim vanished, just like how the people around us disappeared.

since we heard the word ‘simulation’ we never ruled out the possibility that we are also a bunch of data. it's just too shocking to see someone— or something that we've known for decades disappear in front of us.

“so grim was just a data.” trux chimed.

“yeah. now, should we go in together or one by one?” chinchin said.

“well, it's too painful to watch someone disappear in front of us.” kuro said.

we held hands and entered the door together.

we watched ourselves in horror as we saw us slowly dissipating into the air. shouldn't one of us the real Maria?

before disappearing completely, we have a thought that crossed our minds. perhaps Maria have no real personality that she completely own. all of us were the result of mirroring the personality of the people she met just so she could fit in and satisfy the people's desire and expectations. perhaps once there was— twas lost and finding it is now impossible.

we have the one thing in common, though. it was suicide ideation. perhaps... that's a glimpse of who we truly are.

This author had their story up before me, and was the direct inspiration for the Spell of Gun.

You know, it's been a while since someone gave me a child.

I used to have orphanages across the continent, my temples were second chances for children from homes destroyed by war. There were parents, unable to care for the children due to circumstances they could not control, offering their children a safe place.

So somehow I was mixed up with a different entity.I've never met the deity in question, we come and we go, take on new faces and names. I don't know who they were before they took on the mantle, or they even existed.

I'm content to be irrelevant, less orphans is a good thing, less people needing my temples. One of the recent wars had them evacuated, and they were simply never inhabitated again.

A family turned up, lighting candles on my alters, overnight meals. Flowers, lovely flowers, a feast, a celebration. I walked among them, the family large enough that they could mistake a stranger for a distant relative.

It wasn't until they brought the child out to walk down the path of petals to my statue, I realized this was a wedding.

Cultures come and go, scriptures lost in time. But a wedding remained the same. The extra extravagance may have been to lighten the mood, to overshadow the idea that they were offering up a young child.

Perhaps it was a mistake, and I have an ego befitting a God. Maybe this was not about me, and this ceremony was one to promise the girl to another family to a boy no present, or that this girl was ill, and they were celebrating a wedding that would never occur.

But she was instructed to place a wreath of flowers around the statues neck, one that matcher her own, and to sit at the feet of my statue.

"Accept my daughter as your bride, she is pure." The father said, and said nothing more for her. She was no older then 7. "I ask in exchange for wealth, befitting of the family of the god of prosperity."

There were many temples that littered the countryside, of gods of war and blood and worse. To offer and demand payment was something this family would have been smited for.

I waited, to see if this was just a ceremony. That they were not serious. I waited an hour as the families celebrations turned to restlessness.

"She's not a good enough bride." Someone said. "This was a waste of time."

There was a light of fear in the little girls eyes.

Some orphans that came to my temples were covered in bruises, praying for me to take them, as being an orphan was better then having parents. She looked up at my statue. It had lost an arm some time ago- a teenager had hooked their arm with mind and pretended to dance, and when they swung they broke the stone.

I could see her begging with her eyes, that I was real- because a husband might treat her better then her family.

"I accept your offer." I said, with turning heads. I had been an adult man moments prior. No one noticed when I changed forms to something a little smaller. I walked across the petals. Before they could ask me who I was, I motioned for the wreath around the statues neck to unwind, and pulled them to my own, they grew wild, growing into a cloak draping my back.

I did not have to kneel to meet her eyes, as my new form was that of a boy, just a little older then her. There was only curiosity in her eyes.

"What is your name?"

"Her name is-"

"I did not ask you." I spoke coldy, he bowed deep and walked backwards. I wish he tripped on a loose stone.

"Teveni." She said, so quiet a mortal would have trouble hearing her.

"Did you want to choose a new name?"

I would wait a few years, before asking. Names came with a weight to them and some kept their names, the only thing left that tied them to lost families, a gift they would carry until they died.

Some shed them. In this instance, I asked as Teveni ment "gift," in this context, it made me want to do like my fellow gods and smite the wedding guests.

"I don't know." She said, and shrugged like a child would being asked what they wanted for dinner.

"You can figure it out later." I said. "For now, I'll call you Teveni."

I pulled a loose stone from the ground. Her father rose after I stood, I suspected he wanted details on his payment, and was to scared to ask. This thing called itself my family. Part of my wished to remove the guests, to take the girl. But I had accepted an exchange.

I held my hand out. He extended his hands. I dropped the stone into his palm. He frowned, before checking himself to not seem disappointed.

"Plant this at your home on a fullmoon. The next morning with bring you wealth for generations, so long as you care for it."

He bowed once again, and I extinguished the candles, and opened the temple doors, a clear sign for them to leave.

When they were gone, I began to clean. The empty dishes they had left, and lit the candles once more so Teveni was not in the dark.

"Woah...."

She may not have seen magic before, I put on more of a show, she was in awe.

"Now, I want to make a few things clear." I said, sitting next to her. "Bed time is 8pm, always wipe your shoes at the doors and don't climb over the upstairs rafters, you might hurt yourself falling."

"Do I call you "husband"?"

"No, nah uh."

"Papa said to do what ever you said, even if I didn't like it, cause wives listen to husbands."

Maybe I should have gone the smiting option.

"I'll explain this better when you're older. Technically you're my wife, I accepted you in exchange for wealth, but you're not to do any wifely duties." I didn't know how much was explained to her about this. I used to watch kids play make belive, I saw marriages and divorces and marriages again as they played make believe. "I accepted you, to get you away from your family."

"They're mean."

"I thought so." I said. "I'm a God of nurture."

"Not nature?"

"No, nurture as is to help grow." I hoped she could understand what I meant, all kids had different ways of learning and retaining information. "A child is still growing, like a plant, so I have domain over both."

"So what do you want me to do?"

"Be yourself, play in the mud, collect frogs, keep asking questions about the world." It was a strange question for me, kids naturally just wanted to be kids.

"What can I call you?"

I hadn't had a name in a while. I pondered for a moment, looking up at my statue. "Stump."

"Why?"

"Cause I got a stump." I said, the joke going over her head.

"So a stump means no arm?"

"Stump means a lack of something that used to be there." I said. "Like a tree stump."

"Oh! I get it now." She clapped her hands, and I missed questions, I missed classes, I missed watching people grow.

"Hey kid?" I said. "To nurture, is to protect. I protect kids, so they can grow. No one is going to hurt you in our home."

It felt like eons since I had said that. I spoke it to every child that called these walls their refuge.

This is so good! I would a book about this guy!

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Thank you for this.... Made me shed a tear.

This is absolutely hilarious and absurd, I loved it a lot))

“You’ve got to be joking!” the citizen looked stressed.

“Rules are rules”

The angel looked unbothered.

“You can’t just change the rules and not give us time”

The angel takes the citizen’s palm.

“We had to make minor adjustments to the judging system, it made no sense to only consider acts of goodness and not intentions as well. What benefit is it to act kind because you have to BE kind. That just sends the wrong message”

the angel puts on a cocky smile -at least it looked that way to the citizen- and continued.

“For example, you’re not a good person, you just do the bare minimum to appear good. You didn’t volunteer your time to the elderly because you were good. You did it because you didn’t want to stay at home with your family. You hated every moment in your home and that just won’t do.”

The citizen sighs.

“But, I was still volunteering, I made a difference to those I helped”

“Perhaps! but now your family resents you. 40 years of absence does that to a person.”

The citizen panics.

“I can make it right with them. Just give me more time”

The angel ponders for a while.

The citizen looks hopeful.

“You will all have more time, resentment gets you a downgrade as well. You and your family will be moving to Earth 5!”

The angels voice booms through the Earth, the citizen bleeps out of sight.

The angel looks straight ahead at the anxious crowd “Who’s next?”

It’s about to be a stressful day for citizens of Earth 1.

Isn't this just The Grim Adventures of Billy and Mandy?

[removed]

“I got a scholarship!” she said.

“Oh please tell me it is not for your awful artwork. Okay I’ll admit it isn’t terrible, it has risen up to bottom 11%, but that’s not scholarship worthy.”

“Jerk. And no. It is for a volleyball scholarship.”

“Well that’s good. And you are the jerk!”

“Thank you Azimia,” she said.

“...you are welcome Angela,” I said. I reached out my hand to shake hers.

“Oh no, you get a hug,” she said and hugged me. I’m ancient. I’m evil. I’m…enjoying this hug.

“So does this mean I’m out of my contract?” I said.

“Nope! Lifetime friend means lifetime friend!” she laughed. “You can go back now. I’ll call you if I need you, as always. ♪ Thank you for being a friend… ♪ she said.

“NO. NO GOLDEN GIRLS,” I shouted as I warped back to my realm.

The following year, she called me only twice. Once to show me her new dorm room. And the second when she was about to debut on her team. She was nervous and was afraid of letting her mom down. I told her to just aim for the tallest girl’s face and she’ll do fine.

Two years went by without a call.

Then, in the middle of the night, I heard my name.

“What is it child. Why have you summoned me,” I said.

She was crying. She was sitting in the corner and crying.

I looked at her. Her face was bruised. Her lip was bleeding.

“...who did this to you?” I said.

“I…”

“WHO?” I again demanded to know.

Silence for about 15 minutes.

“…can you just sit here and be my friend?” her voice was trembling. “I need a friend. I don’t need anything else right now. Just a friend.”

I sat on the foot of her bed.

She told me she found him cheating on her. And when she confronted him, he hit her twice. And his friends just stood there laughing.

“I know you want to go there and scare them and maybe even hurt them,” she said. “But I didn’t let you do it when Kaitlyn and Meghan bullied me. I’ll talk to the police tomorrow. I just want to feel safe tonight.”

Angela called me once again, this time, when she graduated. We discussed her plans for the future. She said she won’t need me for a while.

The next time, it was her wedding day. She looked radiant.

“I don’t think I’ll need you anymore,” she said.

“A lifetime is a lifetime,” I said.

“Fair enough.”Years went by. I was given longer contracts to deal with. I apologized to the secretary for my behavior and we briefly dated. And by briefly I mean dated for 15 years. In demon years, that’s a blink of an eye.Then, a familiar feeling hit me one night. I was transported back to Angela.She was lying on a hospital bed. Her long blonde hair was now short and white. She had a lot of tubes hooked up to her. Her once youthful face was covered in wrinkles. She lived a lifetime without me.

“Azimia, it looks like your contract will soon be over,” she said and gave out a small laugh, followed by a cough.

“Hrmph,” I said. I looked at her chart. Stage 4 cancer.

“Oh, don’t look at that. My time is up. I’ve lived a great life. I have a wonderful husband. Three children. Seven grandchildren. And a lifetime friend,” she said. “Thank you.”

I put my hand over my chest and gave her a slight bow.

“Will I see you? You know, down there? Since I sold my soul” she said.

“Excuse me,” I said. “Your contract said a lifetime friend. I’m still alive and you are sitting here dying? That’s not a lifetime friend.”

I took out the contract and a pen. She looked at me confused.“Let’s see, you never asked how I was. You never invited me for dinner. You never complimented my hair style or shoes or anything. That doesn’t sound like you were a friend to me,” I snapped.

“What are you saying?” she said. She looked hurt.

“I’m saying you voided the contract. I’m sorry Angela. Your soul is yours again,” I said and tore up the contract.

She started to cry. She mouthed “thank you” as the monitors started beeping and buzzing.

My bosses weren’t happy with my decision. I caught heat for it for a few months. Then they finally called me into their office. “You want a job? Here’s one I know you’ll enjoy. Since you loved the last one so much,” they said, laughing at me. “Hannah, age 6, she wants a lifetime friend,” they said.

I sighed. I knew this would happen

Hannah called me the next day. I appeared in her room, she held my hand.

“My nana told me about you,” she said. I was confused. She handed me a picture. “That’s her, Nana Angie holding me when I was a baby. She got sick and died. She’s in Heaven now. That’s what mommy told me. Will you be my friend?”

Split into 2 parts due to length.

​

I stormed into the office of my superior and demanded an explanation. He simply said the contract is valid and I am to honor it. I asked for a new client. He said no, my name came up in the rotation, and everything this child wrote seems legit, and that I need to be her “friend”. I asked if it was a typo, maybe she meant fiend. I can be her fiend quite easily. I’m a great friend. My boss said if I were to dishonor this contract, I would be dealt with. I’m already on thin “ice”, whatever that means. I was to report to be this child’s friend whenever they summoned me.

This tiny human had somehow written up a contract and it was actually signed and submitted for approval by those in charge. I think this is payback for the last contract I was locked into. It isn’t my fault the humans aren’t precise in their contracts. They need to learn how to read the fine print. The contract stated Mr. Garcia wanted to fly. So I bought him a round trip ticket to Columbus, Ohio.

But this contract. This was just cruel towards me. I know this was payback. They said I ruined the company’s reputation. And to leave the “literal wish fulfillment” to the monkey paw department. I should have given him the ability to fly. Most humans die in the first flight. They fly fast and suddenly run into a branch or fly so high up they faint due to lack of oxygen.

It simply said I would like a lifetime friend. And they sent me to entertain this little girl. This child called Angela. Even her name hurts me when I read it. At first, we played tag. I won 50-0. She said there is no score in Tag. But I tagged her 50 times and she tagged me 0.

She showed me her drawings. In my nine-hundred years of doing this, these drawings were in the bottom 5% of “artwork” if you want to call it that. I worked with the greatest artists during the Renaissance age and now I’m working with this child in a house in the suburbs of Chicago or something. I didn’t even bother to look. I kept looking for ways out of this. I tried to be mean to this child and scare her away. But she wasn’t afraid. I tried to call her art terrible and she said “I know but you have to practice at something to get better” and that six-year olds have fun while drawing. She even tried to get me to paint something with her. And I did. A cursed image so terrifying it made Pope Clement XI call for an exorcism and almost declared painting a sin. But she just laughed and called it silly. And that I should use more colors than just black and red and white. She drew a rainbow on it. I almost burned the dwelling down in a fit of rage.

A lifetime of this positivity is going to age me terribly.

At first, our “playdates” (even saying that word hurts my bones) lasted several hours. She would get tired and fall asleep and I’d go back to my realm and start dreading the next summon. They would first be a day or two apart. She said she made a friend at her new school and that she wouldn’t need me as much.

Days became weeks. She told me she didn’t want to introduce me to her new friends because I might scare them off. That…was probably the cruelest thing anyone has ever said to me.

“She has a friend! She doesn’t need me anymore,” I shouted at the secretary.

“The contract says a life time friend. She is still alive, so you are still her friend. And whenever she calls you, you are to answer,” the secretary calmly told me. “They are orders from high above. Or down below. Whatever you want to call it.”

“So as long as this child is alive, I’m her servant?”

“No, you are her friend. There is a difference. And before you ask, you cannot harm ‘Angela’. Friends don’t hurt friends.”

I grunted and stormed out of the office. I made sure my tail knocked over a cup of pens on her desk.

At age 12, she moved again, and needed a new friend because the girls in her school were being mean to her.

“Do you want me to terrify them as payback!?” I said. I already began to imagine all the horrors I can do onto this Kaitlyn and Meghan.

“No, they are mean because their parents are probably mean towards them. It is okay. I’m tougher than I look,” she said.

“...do you want me to scare their parents? Because that’s the only thing I’m good at.”

“No. I just need a friend to talk to right now. Can I talk to you?”

“....fine. BUT DO NOT DISCARD IT AS AN OPTION.”

We talked for a few hours about how hard it is for her mom now that her dad left. She talked about how moving to a new school is like being an explorer finding a new land. You are an outcast. People spread rumors about you because you have no one to fight for you. And before I said anything, she said “No, please don’t fight my classmates”

And like before, the summons started to get fewer and far between. She had a new group of friends, from her art class (she improved from bottom 5% of all art I’ve seen to…maybe bottom 9.3%). The bullies were still there, but she kept being kind towards them. And after a while, the summons stopped altogether. My work put me on short term contracts. They were fulfilling as I was able to do what I loved: Making people miserable.

A few years later, I felt the familiar tug as I was whisked away back into Angela’s room. She was a young woman now. She said she got accepted into a place called “Stanford University” and she just wanted to share the good news.