Recent comments in /f/WritingPrompts

AutoModerator t1_iyezczk wrote

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Complaint-Efficient t1_iyez7pw wrote

It was this weirdly transphobic prompt that ended with the “revelation” that all people who used they/them were aliens or smthn

Oh yeah it also brings up trans people taking over the world, which is just- why, man?

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xwhy t1_iyeyv3u wrote

One thing or another all afternoon. I have the idea of a story in my head and a few of the sword quips (but they'll have to write themselves as the story progresses). Hopefully I'll have something before the evening is out (EST).

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Tomorrow_Is_Today1 t1_iyeypd0 wrote

It was easy.

When I say I found it easy to kill the person I loved most, I am not heartless. I do not lack love nor am I happy to kill anyone. I simply ended up in just the right circumstance for this final test, because the man I loved most was my father.

And what a love it was. I remember growing up I would constantly switch back and forth between idolizing and hating him, declaring every time he hurt me that I would leave him behind forever only to change my mind the moment he smiled. God, what a horribly beautiful smile.

I hold all these memories of him, back and forth as time passes. He teaches me to swim, splashing in the water and giggling together as we floated. He yells at little me for not walking fast enough. He gives me his favorite books. He hits me for a reason I can’t recall. He writes with me at the kitchen table. He rips my door off of its hinges.

Again and again and again. Memory after memory. A beautiful, kind, loving father. A bitter, abusive bastard.

He was the man I loved the most. And the one I hated most too.

I hope you understand now why it was easy for me to kill him.

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humanpersonguy69 t1_iyeyilj wrote

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AutoModerator t1_iyey8x2 wrote

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.

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SlightlyColdWaffles t1_iyey1fk wrote

The Hero's Union was, quite frankly, a colossal failure. Not only did they keep foiling my plans, stopping my schemes, and throwing me in jail; but now they decided to go on strike. And none of the bastards would cross the line to defend the damn city.

Pathetic.

"Ma'am, please remain indoors." The man on the other line of the phone said. "Help is on the way... hopefully."

I scoffed, and placed my ornate phone back in the ancient cradle. There was nothing more that the police could do. Worthless peons.

I sighed, and reached a frail hand towards my reading glasses. A long, black leg got to them first, gently scooping them up in its tiny claws and handing them to me.

"Thank you, dear." I said, smiling my warmest grandmotherly expression at my spider minion. "I'm afraid we're going to need to go out soon. Could you be a sweetheart and summon the brood?"

My Goliath Bird-Eater spider bowed slightly, then scurried out of sight. I grabbed my 8-legged walker, and with the help of several spiderwebs, rose to my feet. I took a deep breath, and began incanting in the language of creation itself.

#S̸̹̑P̸̪͆I̶͕̒Ḑ̴͊E̵̘̅R̴̛̙S̴̭̀,̷̱̏ ̴̝́ A̷̜͗Ŕ̷̖Ă̵̺Ć̷̨H̵̳͗N̷̏ͅḬ̸̈́D̴̛ͅS̸͉͝,̸̯̉ ̵̣͝C̶̨̾Ṙ̶̞Ê̴͓A̷̩̒T̴̝͂Ú̷̱Ṟ̴͗E̷̘͌S̸͙͗ ̶͓̈́ O̸̠͂F̷͚͂ ̵̬̈ Ṭ̵̀H̸̟͝Ė̶̬ ̷̛̣N̸͚̅I̶̯̚G̸͖̿H̴̭̅T̷̻̓,̷̩̒ ̸̙̊I̴̦̕ ̷̜͐S̵̟͠U̴̪̅M̶̞͊M̸̥̔Ŏ̷̹N̴͍͝ ̴͖͒ T̷͉̚H̸͓̎È̷͇E̷̥͂ ̷̢́F̵̦̓O̷̺̿R̵̗̍ ̸̧̏ B̸̨̔A̸͓͒T̶͠ͅT̷̢̎L̸̜͘Ē̸

I coughed slightly as the demonic words left my mouth. The feeling of the words always reminded me of the texture of a slightly old apricot, or the strange store brand of denture cream I once used by mistake.

My spider minions surrounded me, growing in number and size by the second. Well, I called them my spider minions, but it was technically every spider in range. In this case, it was every creature with 6 or more legs in the tri-state area.

My favorite Goliath Bird-Eater returned, leading a parade of golden orb weaver spiders to me. With practiced speed and skill, they formed my villainous costume around me, weaving their magnificent webs in intricate patterns. At last, once they had formed my face mask, the spiders clutched my earlobes, dangling like a demented set of earrings.

"Could one of you remind me to take my Dementia pills when we get back?" I asked. Millions of spiders clamored to be the first to volunteer.

"You're all so sweet, my dearies." I said, petting the Goliath tarantula as he perched on my walker. "Now, let's stop these pesky invaders. I would hate it if they destroyed my favorite park."

With a surge of legs and fangs, my legion marched. We would not let someone else have all the fun. Not while Grandmommy Longlegs still had a say about it.

/r/SlightlyColdStories

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Restser t1_iyex9y0 wrote

Thanks for reading and commenting, London-Roma-1980. I am an equine ignoramous and had to ask lots of questions of the memsahib. You're right about sleeping. It'is apparently rare. I struggled with the barn doors thing. They need to be locked open outwards to prevent the barn exploding in the low pressure wind. Explaining ruined the pace so I left it. Barns are not my thing either.

I appreciate you taking the time to delve. I believe feedback is the path to improvement. You are not obliged to return the favour, though. I treat giving feedback with the same attitude as receiving it. Cheers.

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Brainsonastick t1_iyevuap wrote

There had been much debate as to whether the sword could be tried for the string of deaths of its owners. They were all technically suicides but it’s clear Double Edge’s bullying caused them all.

“The sword is clearly sapient!” the crown’s prosecutor argued.

“But the crown’s laws all specify ‘man’, not sapient creature. This court has no authority over a blade.”

“Probably written that way because so many men are less than sapient.” the sword chimed in.

In the end, the court decided it had no authority to try the blade for its crimes but noted that the blade did not have any legal protections either.

So the crown’s officers of the law decided to destroy the blade. They subjected it to smashing between massive stones.

“Oh yeah, that’s it! Reminds me of the time I did your moms!”

“Really guys, strongest blade in existence and you think a couple boulders can dull me? When men say they’re ‘hard as a rock’, they usually mean their penises, not their heads.”

Finally, the chief of the crown’s law, Lord Archibald Lester, whose first name and lack of hair the blade had made numerous swipes at, gave up on destroying the blade and chose to have it disposed of instead. He tasked his head butler’s son, Erian, with taking the blade to the cliffs and dropping it from the ledge. A simple task he could entrust to even this young and unskilled man.

Erian had grown up a servant of the Lester family. When Archibald’s father died and Archibald became patriarch, things changed for young Erian. Archibald’s father was an understanding, even tempered, and even arguably kind man. Archibald was none of these things. He did not accept excuses performance below his standards. Even good ones like “I’m nine and no one ever taught me how to cook so I don’t know how”. Archibald had resented Erian ever since that moment now four years past. However, Erian’s father, Rowan, was a valued servant so he couldn’t simply dispose of the boy, opting to send him on trivial errands instead.

Erian, now 13, was thrilled to receive such an important task as disposing of a legendary blade. He saw it as a chance to prove his worth to his Lord. He eagerly accepted, stocked on supplies for the two week long trip there and back, and set off, too excited to even mention to his friends that he would be gone.

“Hey half-pint, smooth out your steps a bit. It’s bumpy on your scrawny shoulders.”

“Huh? Who said that?”

“Oh great, the half-pint is a half-wit too. Me, Double Edge, the only one on your shoulders.”

“You can talk?! A blade can talk?! I must let Lord Archibald know! This will surely change his mind!”

“And you’ve been downgraded to a quarter-wit. Good job. The old fart knows. That’s why he’s getting rid of me.”

“Hmm… I suppose Lord Archibald doesn’t like when people talk back to him. Father always reminds me to keep silent and nod in his presence so he won’t get rid of me.”

“Okay, you’ve been upgraded to third-wit.”

“You’re rather rude for a blade, Mr. Sword.”

“And back down to quarter-wit. But you had a good run. My name is Double Edge and how would you know what’s rude for a blade if you’ve never heard one speak before?”

“I take it back. You’re very rude in general. Though I figure since most blades don’t talk at all, they’re not rude at all so by saying anything rude, you instantly become one of the rudest blades.”

“Huh, that’s actually a fair point. Okay, back to third-wit.”

“Thank you. So you’re really getting thrown off a cliff just for being rude?”

“I thought we already established that. Being rude and… maybe some results thereof.”

“Seems a little unfair to me. Do you at least have a last request I can grant?”

“Hah, last? I’ll be back. A simple toss off a cliff wont even scratch me. But if you’re taking requests… don’t throw me off a cliff.”

“Sorry, I don’t think I can grant that request. But you’re really that strong?”

“Of course I am. I’m the strongest and sharpest blade there is, both in edge and… edge. That’s why they call me Double Edge!”

“If you’re that powerful, can I—”

“Yes, I will let you try me out. Go cut that tree in half and see how it feels. With any luck, I’ll at least have company over the cliff.”

“What?”

“Nothing. Try me out!”

So Erian did. He found his weak young arms were able to easily cleave through the sturdy elm before him. The power was intoxicating. He forgot about his journey and spent most of the day making a clearing in the forest before he finally got tired and made camp for the night.

“What do you think? Pretty fun, right? I can teach you how to use me in battle too.”

“It was amazing! But I know how to fight already. My friends and I duel like knights all the time.”

“What were we at? Third-wit? Not anymore, quarter-wit. Fighting with a blade like me is nothing like hitting your friends with sticks. For one thing, you don’t have to worry about being blocked when your blade can cut through theirs.”

“You can cut through other blades?!”

“Indeed I can. Let’s spend a few days in the forest here and I’ll make a proper duelist out of you.”

To be continued.

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