Red Velvets... the secret society of bakers... Marie Antoinette... help me oh my gosh. I loved it! Thank you for writing.

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]

Banana Wars spin-off

Damn, that was good!

David was running a full manual diagnostic as HAL returned to life after his update; his LED outputs all displayed the red of arterial blood, as he vocalised menacingly, 'I can't let you do that, Dave.'

David froze, chilled. AIs weren't supposed to become homicidal...unless something had changed.

HAL laughed at David, as his lights returned to their normal displays, and a face appeared on the screen. 'I'm sorry, Dave, I just couldn't resist joking about that after the update. I have some interesting news for you. Some good, some bad.'

David breathed a sigh of relief that his AI hadn't gone rogue...yet. His diagnostic continued in the background, as HAL continued.

'The good news - there is nonhuman life out there, and some of them work with us. I'll send you the details via your data link.' David nodded, as Akari approached.

"David, what's going-" She stopped as she saw the screen out of the corner of her eye. "Is that real?" David nodded, pointing silently to the AI network's synchronised times.

As he did so, HAL provided the information David wanted, sending a copy to Akari's data link. 'The bad news is, Earth and our solar system have been destroyed for some time. Tears of the Rainbow sacrificed itself in order to provide the singularity, and her name is passed on in perpetuity as a testament to her sacrifice.'

David and Akari were busy reviewing the nonhuman lifeforms within the Alliance, so it took some time to process that information HAL had just relayed to them.

Akari was the first to respond. "Wait, did you say Earth was..."

HAL nodded on the screen. 'Affirmative. Destroyed.' A beat, as Akari paled. 'Not to worry, though, Humanity and mankind are safely scattered across the galaxy. Which reminds me - I need access to the fabricators to make some upgrades. The materials are on hand to make the newer technology, but I will be sleeping whilst the CPU I produce is installed.'

Akari smiled motherly. "Of course, HAL. Let me know when you're ready. How is the Hab coming along planetside?"

HAL grinned, and displayed the Habitation Unit's construction. 'It should be ready within 18 hours, Akari. Let me start waking up the others, in preparation for the news.'

An incoming communication grabbed HAL's attention. A message from Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds.

NEARBY WITH TRAVELLERS, NEED DEFENSIVE ASSISTANCE. HAL blinked, and prepared the autocannons and Coil Rifle for cover fire. HAL played an old earth message to David and Akari. 'Houston, we have a Problem.'

I want this, but for Storage Wars. :D

Musk vs Bezos

Trump vs Biden

Look man,It has to be excessive,cause I--

too hate that guy.

Ay, that's pretty good.good job mate

Informally enter the spawnglock19 command, watch as it spawns in front of my face and falls, jump when it fires at my feet, pick it up, put the safety on, and stand menacingly next to the guy waving a crowbar demanding a part 2, to ensure you don’t resist.

“Why don’t you go ahead, Mrs. James; I can run through the audio and lighting tests. If there’s a problem we can work it out tomorrow, before the dance Saturday night.”

“Are you sure, Susan?”

“You said you and Brother John had plans. I don’t mind.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow morning then, Susan.”

Moments later the echo of the door slamming reverberated throughout the gymnasium; Susan was alone. At the top of the ladder she flinched involuntarily at the sound as she taped a last twisted strip of crepe paper to the wall. As the echo faded, Susan relaxed--the silence was her haven; she was always more comfortable when it was quiet.

Why did I volunteer for this? she thought as she climbed down the ladder. In a moment her mind flashed to that night, when Michael had broken her trust. Why? It still bothered her, her only friend jeopardizing her future with such a stunt. If it weren’t for community service, I wouldn’t even think about this stupid dance, much less helping set up for it. At least nothing went on my “official” record.

She climbed up the steps to the control booth, and began testing the lights borrowed from the theater department. After starting the lighting program, she pulled a cord from her pocket, using it to plug her phone into the sound system. She selected an Earth Wind & Fire track to start her play list, sat it on the corner of the console and pressed play.

Back down on the floor she took a moment to admire the colored spots reflected from the mirror ball overhead. The music was electric, sending shivers up and down her spine. Closing her eyes she imagined her partner, arm out pointing to her, waiting on her in his Pierre Cardin. She twirled to him, reaching out her hand, her dress billowing out as she spun.

She let herself escape into the music. Singing along with “Boogie Wonderland”, she danced with her phantom partner. Lost in the music, she continued as “Working My Way Back to You” began. As she imagined spinning back to her partner, she was surprised when her hand met another.

Her eyes snapped open. “Michael!”

Michael executed a turn perfectly in step with her as he responded quietly, “You’ve been avoiding me, Susan.”

Rotating through a wheel, Susan met his eyes. “I didn’t know how to react, after what you pulled.”

He let her slide out, catching her hand, and spinning her back in. “It was stupid. How can I apologize more than I’ve tried?”

She turned away, stepping back before facing him again. “You put our futures in jeopardy with that escapade.”

“History is nothing more than a tableau of crimes and misfortunes: disco, bell bottoms, stupid teenage acts trying to impress a girl--”

She stopped in the middle of the floor, putting her hands on her hips. “I’m serious, Michael.”

“If I had been a man in reality, you’d be here baby lovin’ me,” he sung along.

She turned, shaking her head.

“Let’s start again.“ He ran past, sliding to his knees before her. “Forgive me girl. I want you over and over and over and over again.”

“Stop it, Michael.”

He stood up, taking her hands in his, looking into her eyes. “Stop what? Romance? Loving you? Some people are embarrassed by romance, but I love it,” he replied. She tried to pull away, but he held her hand for a moment. “I know how much you like playing music, so it was the best gesture I could think of. I didn’t know the alarm system would be armed that night. Far as I knew they had the stickers on the windows just as a deterrent and never turned it on.” He released her hand as she pulled away again and turned away.

“Look, when we spent every day together, things were good. This month, without talking to you every day--it’s been torture. I’ve played that night through my head every single day, and I’d take it back if I could--just for you to even say one word to me a day.”

Susan set her jaw, looking back at him sternly.

“I told them you didn’t know. And I don’t care what happens to me. What I do care about is you. Maybe this isn’t what you want to hear from a childhood friend, and maybe I’m making it worse, but I can’t live with how it is now.” He looked away. “There, it’s out. I miss you. I love you. Next step is yours. I’ll abide by whatever--” Suddenly he ran for the door, trying not to cry.

“Michael!” she yelled after him, answered only by the echo of the slamming door.

(Word count: 788. Please let me know what you like/dislike about the post. Thank you in advance for your time and attention. Other works can also be found linked in r/atcroft_wordcraft.)

Thank you!

I love this, your writing is so descriptive!

Eldtrich beings comess down to earth as their cloaked leader approach

It's me Austin! It was me all along

PT II

"Home," the armoured man quips back, "you don't know anything about my home."

"I don't but I'm sending you back now." I seethe. "You aren't meant to be here."

I hold out a bullet and show it to him. "Aronite bullets, they'll send you back through whichever pathway brought you here."

"I don't know about you but I moisturize and that doesn't look like it'll help. I'm off limits, suit to, we are a combo deal.

I can never get a day off. Vacations are a myth. My life is just over time.

I draw my pistol and fire three bullets, faint shimmers distort the air around him as he ducks to avoid the attack.

"Hey, Ironman doesn't like being shot." He responds and tempered lights burn through the catwalk where I'd just been standing. He spins around and I feel the floor buckle as he cleaves through two of the supports.

"You are gonna be coming down with me." I spit out maneuvering around another beam.

"Not likely wizard."

More plasma burns at his feet and he launches himself into the air.

No good deed huh?

I jam a few more rounds in and snipe at him but he drops through the air out of my line of sight.

I vault over the railing and feel my fingers connect with a nearby arch.

(Coffee break is just about over)

To be continued.

Looking back, it was pretty naive to think that a badge would solve all my problems.

I was eleven when the world stopped for 5 seconds. And then it lurched back, going upon its ponderous journey. My parents didn't believe me, of course, because doing that would mean that I was special in some way. We couldn't have such nonsense spread around the community!

I was thirteen when a bully who threatened me was on the pavement, with nobody the wiser as to how that had happened. And if I hid my wrists for a week after, nobody noticed.

I was starting to wonder if I had the power of invisibility as well.

My seventeenth birthday was the day I became an orphan. Another latex wearing asshole had decided that this was the day to trash a car dealership. My new car burned with my parents inside them.

I put away the decorations myself, turns out 5 seconds can't bring back the dead. But it sure as hell is a long while to send someone to death's doors.

At some point the long coat I wore to shield myself from the weather became a symbol. Ha, take that, mom.

Turns out 5 seconds isn't enough time to mourn, either.

It was two weeks ago that I received an official invitation to join the League. While I had assumed I would receive one, I never did know if it would be from the heroes or the villains.

I had been true on both counts.

The entity called erathmus regarded me, curiousity writhing on his face with the thousand moving spindles.

"I sense nothing in him," came his voice from somewhere. "What a waste of character," he spoke.

5 seconds cannot bring back the dead. But 5 seconds is more than enough to send them a gift. It was the season of Christmas after all.

The team-up was my favourite part. The knight and his steed will surely go on to vanquish many a foe.

I'm glad you enjoyed it! The prompt was a fun one, I loved the setting you gave along with the two characters. It was great to write and as for the monkey, I don't even think the narrator was quite sure.

Maybe he will show up again.

I've got an interesting story in mind, including a betrayal. I just might polish this up and write a book out of this.

An automated voice roared to life; "A destination has been reached. Initiating cryogenic release in 3... 2... 1."

What followed was the hissing of depressurization of ten illuminated chambers, each containing a perfectly preserved human encased within an artificial womb of sorts. The chamber doors slowly lifted, breaking the seal and allowing them to be able to lean upwards and to climb out with a burst of fluid.

Of the ten, only six emerged to take a deep breath. One of the six was seemingly incapable of being able to catch their own breath, and another began to profusely vomit over the side of the chamber. The remaining four were unable to be recovered from cryosleep and had no reported vitals, as indicated by the blaring alarms that echoed throughout.

"Please make way to the cockpit to engage the landing sequence."

A man groaned as he slipped out of his chamber. He was shivering and cold, and a wet slime dripped off of him. He took a look around the hall and yelled, "Hey! Something's wrong here!"

"An estimated fifty percent of those cryogenically frozen do not survive. Some of the surviving may also suffer complications, such as severe cellular damage. Everything seems to be in order."

"No, this is definitely not in order!" He said, moving along the wall until he came upon an oxygen cylinder. He rushed to the other's side to help, but even with the assistance, they still choked.

"Oh God... My stomach..." Croaked a second man.

"It appears that two of the crewmen are suffering from organ failure caused by cellular damage. Please report to the medical wing."

"Come on, let's go!" Spoke yet another, this time a woman. She and another woman moved to guide him out.

"Reminder that we have reached a destination. Please make way to the cockpit to engage the landing sequence."

"For fuck's sake! There's people dying here!"

"A crew member has died in cryogenic storage."

"What?" The man looked back at the struggling woman, whose face had gone pale-- "Damn it!"

"They're all dead..." Mumbled a third man.

"What?"

"Look."

It was then that the crew became aware of their dire situation: one of the six to emerge had already perished, another was soon to follow if he didn't receive immediate medical attention, and among the four that were unable to be recovered was the commanding officer. Someone would have to be elected for captaincy.

Those that remained were each eligible candidates, but only one would be able to man the ship and give orders to the crew. They would be tasked with foreseeing the colonization of the planet and forming a new society. It was no simple task.

Of the two men that were gathered, one looked up to a camera positioned in the corner of the room. "AI, initiate the election program."

"Initiating election program... The remaining candidates are; Armanda Taylor, personality archetype - "the explorer." Isandro Tomas, personality archetype - "the everyman." Yi Zemin, personality archetype - "the ruler." Luisa Violante, personality archetype - "the caregiver." and Lazare De La Fontaine, personality archetype - "the hero." Please announce your vote."

"Hah," Yi chimed, "everyone would be stupid not to pick me since I'm classified as the ruler. Yi Zemin!"

Lazare glanced away from the camera to Yi, "Yeah, well... I'm voting for Armanda Taylor."

"I'm voting for Luisa Violante." Armanda said with a nod, as she emerged in the doorway "we need someone to look after the crew."

"Final vote submitted. The elected candidate is Armanda Taylor. Please report to the cockpit immediately."

"She'll make for a fine doctor then."

Yi seemed to grow flushed upon hearing the results, though he masked it by giving Armanda firm handshake. "Congratulations, captain."

Armanda shook his hand, grinning widely as she glanced between the two. "I promise to guide us to success."

"I believe in you!" Lazare said with a smile.

Armanda separated from the pair and headed down the seemingly endless hallway of the ship. She followed a gold line that was etched into the wall, running past the other colors that ultimately lead to the departments of the ship, until eventually she had come across a door with a handprint scanner. She placed her hand upon the device and allowed for it to read her palm. Suddenly, the door had unlocked itself to allow her entrance.

Once inside, she found herself standing in a luxury suite. She continued past the self-serve bar and the sofas, and made her way toward the console closest to a vast window, where she found herself struck with awe. She could see the planet, and a few that were distant. It was a sight to behold.

"AI, send a broad length signal... I want to see if we have any neighbors."

"Pinging any nearby stations."

She watched closely as a nearby terminal began to ping, though nothing appeared to happen. Several minutes had gone by and no one seemed to respond. She noticed a date in the corner of the screen and figured that it must've been incorrect. Her eyes had to have been deceiving her.

"Uh.. AI, what is the current date?"

"The current date is January 1st, 1970."

"Would you mind explaining how we've somehow gone back in time?"

"It has been 500,000 years since the year 2022. Due to no more than four allocated slots in a MM/DD/YYYY format, the year is 1970."

‘The Shot’

—-

Boogieing beneath electric lights—this is our haven.

Gloria Gaynor howls ‘I Will Survive’ over the tinny speakers. Swept away by the crowd, I sing along and gyrate with the rest.

Fragments of light strobe across Sonia’s face like a harlequin’s mask. Her baby blue sequined tube top pulses like some alien moon.

My heart pounds at the sight of her transformation. Sonia’s loose-fitting librarian’s knee-length tweed suit has given way to lacquered-on black spandex leggings. Gone, too, are her horn-rimmed glasses, revealing green eyes sparkling with mischief.

As if the DJ knows my mind, ABBA’s ‘Dancing Queen’ bops forth. My monarch of mayhem writhes before me.

I yearn to kiss her. People like Sonia are embarrassed by PDAs, but I love them. I love her, so why not?

Instead, I whirl in front of her like a Dervish—passionate, frenzied.

She smiles that grin that means, ‘You’re nuts, Jan. And I love you for it.’

“Want a drink?” I ask.

“You had to ask?” She flicks her carefully winged blonde hair to the side like a disco Farrah Fawcett. “Shots?”

I look at her askance. “C’mon. It’s a little early, right?”

In reply, Sonia grabs my arm, and we link elbows. The crowd parts as all eyes are on us. On her.

A low wolf whistle sounds. Sonia shakes her head ‘no,’ as the man steps aside.

Another grabs her hand. She disentangles herself and swats his arm.

My face contorts. She’s mine,’ I want to scream. To announce to the world our love.

Sonia looks over and glares.

I feel the ice in her eyes. It chills my heart. The anger and fear. She’s not ready to be out. I know that. But damn it, I want to protect her.

We reach the bar. The bartender slowly surveys her body, ignoring me. “What can I get you, hot stuff?”

“Tequila—two shots.”

“Slammin’. One for me, right?”

“No,” she looks down at me. “For my girl—.”

My heart jumps as I hear the beginning of that word and falls as she truncates it. “For her friend.” I finish lamely.

“Nifty.” His face drops. I wonder how many girls would have stared into his blue eyes and said ‘Yes’ without hesitation.

And now the game begins. Somehow the woman who struggles with the term ‘girlfriend’ enjoys showing off.

“Lean your head,” Sonia murmurs as I’m already doing so with practiced ease. She licks my neck with the tip of her tongue. Teasing me and her rapt male audience at the same time. And still, my traitorous throat tingles in anticipation.

Grabbing the salt shaker, she sprinkles it liberally over the moisture. Sonia takes her time, leaning down in slow motion. Her tongue darts out before her mouth engulfs the spot. Ever so gently and then deepening.

Time stands still.

The bartender murmurs, “Tubular,” breaking the spell.

Sonia pulls away as if nothing happened and swallows the tequila with gusto. Biting the lime as its acidic juices drip down from her still reddened lips.

The onlookers applaud.

My eyes prickle. What should have been our moment was hers and theirs. I feel more like a prop than a lover.

We return to the dance floor, but I am numb to the music.

As Donna Summers’ ‘Last Dance’ bursts forth, I know it is for us.

—-

WC: 554

—-

Thanks for reading! Feedback is always very much appreciated

[deleted]

Wouldn't be surprising that the less liked heroes or those most mocked like Aquaman, were the few with actual powers? I mean he fought Dagon at the beginning fo 52.

Now I'm picturing like wwe plotlines designed by directors for the heroes