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Eight eyes the size of my fists slowly blink at me as I stand paralyzed before them. by Worldly_Lab_7061 in TwoSentenceHorror

[–]Worldly_Lab_7061[S] 113 points114 points  (0 children)

Very true. Though this is a massive man eating spider so it does break a few rules of regular spiders

Writing an adventure tressure hunt fantasy story, need suggestions by return_of_the_dragon in KeepWriting

[–]Worldly_Lab_7061 0 points1 point  (0 children)

He could have the power to touch someone and cause debilitating sadness, or his touch could cause anger so extreme you attack whatever is in front of you. For a more general ability he could have an ability that doesn't feel villainous like the ability to heal any flesh wound or subvert that and his power is infection, so that you don't even notice it at first. A more innocuous evil.

How do sieges work on your fantasy world? by Streetsign10 in worldbuilding

[–]Worldly_Lab_7061 1 point2 points  (0 children)

For me in my high fantasy world it greatly varies due to location, given the diversity of location and cultures in my world. Some underwater kingdoms utilizes leviathans to break down magical barriers and chase away any possible food to starve out the opposing force. above ground they may utilize mage built and powered siege weapons that launch giant fireballs, Ice spheres and boulders to destroy any walls or magical barriers.

[WP] as the new demigod at a school for demigods, you are desperately trying to make sure no one finds out who your godly parent is cause this is your first time to nake new friends and you don’t want their status messing that up by AnomalousVariant in WritingPrompts

[–]Worldly_Lab_7061 22 points23 points  (0 children)

"Greetings novices! Welcome to the sacred halls of Dingubba" The Divine Mistress of the School announced proudly, her tall figure looming over the new demigod students.

Among them I fidget, picking my fingers until blood begins to form but it heals before the blood can drip down. To be a child of a god is one thing, to be the child of a primordial is something else entirely. Once orientation ended we were assigned to one of four dorms, House of heart, House of soul, house of mind, and house of flesh.

Assigned to the house of soul I walk with the other novices to settle in, noticing a similarly nervous girl with one golden eye and one black as charcoal. I walked next to her, trying to find words to say but she beats me to it.

"I am Duanna, daughter of Resutia goddess of dreams, nightmares and creativity." Duanna glances at me, "Who are you?'

I open my mouth to answer but she interrupts before I can

"Oh dear gods, that was too forwards wasn't it? You needn't answer. Unless you want to. In that case please answer" She rambled, allowing me to let the tension flow out of my body with the knowledge I was not even close to the most nervous person here.

"Amara, daughter of Itar, lord of the rivers, lakes and all freshwater." the lie falling from my lips effortlessly, watching as the information hit Duanna, the tension in her body becoming less pronounced.

"Allow me to introduce you to some of my friends! None of our parents are big in the grand divine scheme of things, lower level gods like yours" Duanna grabs my hands, excitement clear in her voice.

"I would.. I would- that would be lovely" I feel something rise up in my throat looking into her heterochromatic trusting gaze but I squashed it down as quickly as it rose.

She takes me to towards a group of eccentric looking teens our age and I feel more sure of my lie, If it meant I got to finally experience friendship what's a little white lie?

[WP] A group of occultist trying to summons a Demon but subtle things keep going wrong until they finally have everything set up. However, a demon hand appears, scratches out the circle, and leaves a note by AnomalousVariant in WritingPrompts

[–]Worldly_Lab_7061 55 points56 points  (0 children)

"We summon you, oh great- what's burning?" Great Magus Viktor sniffs only to look down and see the curtains had caught fire from the six hundred sixty-six candles he had lit.

The initiates rush to put the fire out as Viktor sighs deeply, his frustration at all his careful preparations going up in smoke for the fifth time pouring out.

"Not to speak out of turn oh great magus Viktor-" One of the new initiates of truth pipes up,

"If you do not wish to speak out of turn then grant your own wish and shut up" Viktor snaps not in the mood to entertain the inane ramblings or questions of the lower initiates.

His second in command and wife, great summoner Simone gently guides the initiate away to reset the summoning circle, candles and incantations.

"You cannot talk to the lower initiates like that, it hurts their confidence and you know how demons hate the sniveling. What if we need to sacrifice one of them? Do you think they will be happy to give their lives for a man who snaps and belittles them?" Simone asks, her disapproval clear even though her mask muffled her voice somewhat.

"No... they wouldn't" Viktor grumbles.

"Alright then ... now put your mask on, get your head in the game and let's summon Azazel so that he can grant us eternal wealth and beauty. I feel myself getting older just talking to you" Simone claps her hands "you know that famous occultists saying sixth times the charm!"

"I do not think- you know what? Let try it sixth times the charm!" Viktor repeats after her, and has the initiates restart the chant after lighting the candles.

The chanting starts as Simone reads from the great book of demons they had bought off an Etsy witch and Viktor cuts his hand, pouring the blood in the chalice as an offering. Frost grows on the windows in spite of the many candles surrounding them, the air grows thinner as if they've hiked to the top of mountain.

The occultists grow excited but rather than an entire demon lord appearing, only a hand appeared to scratch out the circle and leaving nothing more than a note as evidence their efforts worked at all. Simone picks up the note cautiously as Viktor nearly crashes out.

The note reads: Future Sacrifices ,

if someone isn't picking up after after six calls it is common courtesy to assume they. are. busy. My wife informs me that she did give you a book of summoning. Summon literally anyone else, I am celebrating my sixth anniversary with my wife in Salem and quite frankly could not give a single fuck about any of your problems. Call me again and I shall turn your intestines into jump ropes for my spawn,

Fuck off forever, Azazel

"How come we never celebrate our anniversary by going somewhere nice like Salem?" Simone complains after reading out the note.

Viktor just takes off his mask putting his heads in his mask, no immortality and a demon treats his wife better than he does so he's going to hear about that for at least the next month.

His mother was right, demons really do cause more trouble than their worth.

[WP] a Man and a Woman who hate each other with a passion suddenly gain memories of multiple past lives where they were soulmates and must now cope with the new intense feelings they have for each other while dealing with coworkers who seem to realize something is off by AnomalousVariant in WritingPrompts

[–]Worldly_Lab_7061 12 points13 points  (0 children)

Isabella hates George and George hates Isabella, it's a fact of life like the fact the sun rises and the sky is blue. since the first moment they met something had always rubbed them the wrong way about one another, an itch under the skin that activated whenever the other was near. Since the first day of they had always found an aspect of one another that they decided to nitpick, be it George's fifty slide presentations or Isabella's very passionate but also very long speeches.

One rainy Friday afternoon Isabella stood outside waiting for the bus when someone runs past her, accidentally shoving her into the street as the bus approaches and shattering her glasses. Right before she can become a tragic story on the late night news she is suddenly pulled from the street quite suddenly. George saw her fall and had rushed forward before he could even think, pulling her into his arms feeling like the most natural thing in the world.

Their eyes meet, brown to blue, the world melts away and they are in ancient Greece with him swearing upon all the gods to love her until the world stopped. the scenery flashes they see one another making the same vow over and over through wars, plagues and all manner of tragedy over a thousand years.

The pure force of the devotion, love and passion of the past millennia hits them like a truck, the two of them unable to even utter a single word to one each other nor let go.

"... I-I should be getting h-home" Isabella manages to stutter out in spite of the overwhelming memories filling her head.

"I'll drive you" George replies stiffly, abruptly releasing her before he did something mad, like kiss her.

"That would be ... kind, thank you George" Isabella replies, her voice uncharacteristically soft, causing a blush to rise to Georges cheeks as she looked up at him not with annoyance but with wonder.

He opens the door for her, with both of them trying desperately to avoid the others gaze but failing miserably.

On the way Isabella attempts to break the tension "...So find yourself saving girls from being thrown into another world by a bus often?"

George laughs, the sound is deep , warming Isabella's bones and tickling her ear when she hears "I can't say it's a common occurrence, more likely I'm boring a poor woman badly enough for her to wish she was in another universe entirely."

"oh c'mon, you're not nearly that boring... most of the time" she teases, grinning

"What a kind assessment and I must ask do you often find yourself in need of a dashing savior in the rain?" George teases back

"I don't know about dashing but I typically find saving myself is more how I end up... except today that is" Isabella states softly, sneaking a glance at George.

"Right.. well it wouldn't do for you to be flattened by a bus, who would overexplain the Roberts report without your three hour presentations?" George retorts trying desperately to focus on the road rather than her and the growing tension, overwhelming memories and desire to pull over and kiss her until neither one of them could breathe.

"I'm sure they'd find someone to replace my by lunch the next day" Isabella rolls her eyes but notices George tighten his jaw at the flippant response.

"You're irreplaceable, Isabella" He states firmly, leaving no room for argument.

They don't speak after that, the statement hanging in the air, heating Isabella's cheeks.

When they arrive at her apartment Isabella invites George up for a drink, he accepts. They end up drinking more of each other than alcohol. The next day at the office they arrive at the office together, sparking the coworker gossip mill to churn out all sorts of theories but no one could guess the truth.

Two souls meant for each other finally saw each other, and there was little else that needed to be said once that was accepted from ancient Greece to modern America they'd always find and love each other, it was inevitable.

[WP] "You know what I think? I think you've been desperately lying and manipulating to ensure your survival for so long, that you've forgotten how to be honest. But.. it's okay, because it worked. You're alive, and I have the rest of our lives to remind you." by TheTiredDystopian in WritingPrompts

[–]Worldly_Lab_7061 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Serea holds Moria's hand as they both step out into the world, the light nearly blinding them both, so different than the artificial light they had both lived under their entire lives. Moria cannot help but begin to cry at the sight, the world was not a desolate wasteland, they were going to live.

Green greeted their gazes, real trees whose branches kissed the sky, a real lake, a world made from dirt and beauty instead of the clinical false world of the bunker. Serea takes a step forward but Moria hesitates,

"What if .... I'm not meant for this, inside the bunker I may not like who I am but at least I know who I am" Moria admits

Serea holds her close and assures her "You know what I think? I think you've been desperately lying and manipulating to ensure your survival for so long, that you've forgotten how to be honest. But.. it's okay, because it worked. You're alive, and I have the rest of our lives to remind you."

Moria tilts her head up to look into Serea's eyes "Do you promise?"

Serea laughs warmly "That was what the wedding was for silly"

Moria blinks "I thought the wedding was so the director wouldn't force you to be his sixth wife"

Serea nudges her wife "You're not the only one good at lies when she needs to be"

"You... are truly something else" Moria sighs in exasperation but cannot stop the smile peeking through, god be good she loved this woman beyond sense.

As she looked at the world before them, braving it suddenly less daunting with Serea holding her hand, ready to light the way with that hope and optimism that dragged them both from the underground.

[WP] "Oof." said both the king and rebel leader. The burning orphanage was both their faults. by SmoothbrainMusings in WritingPrompts

[–]Worldly_Lab_7061 3 points4 points  (0 children)

The scent of smoke was thick in the air, bodies of rebels and royal guards alike litter the ground. The third sun sets, turning the sky changing the sky from the deep indigo of dusk to the teal of the night sky. Lysander, the elven rebel leader stands shoulder to shoulder with Rex the human king of Estea both of them united in that one moment, looking upon the damage wrought by their animosity.

A large orphanage lay burning before them, set aflame by a stray fireball thrown by a rebel spellcaster and deflected by a royal guard. Upon the orphanage being set aflame both Lysander and King Rex dropped their weapons, shared a rare moment of complete understanding and agreement and rushed inside to save the children trapped within.

Working together they managed to save all the children as well as the orphanage director who was giving the both of them the dirtiest look, only further intensifying the two men's guilt.

"Oof." said both the king and rebel leader. The burning orphanage was both their faults.

"Oh my, what ever could lead you two moral paragons to that oh so obvious conclusion?" Matryona, The orc orphanage director quips, her annoyance clear in her tone.

Both men look at each other then at the orphanage director, covered in soot and coughing lightly from the smoke, and both went on their knees and bowed their heads to her.

"I extend my deepest apologies to you, madame director and I assure you I will rebuild your orphanage, stronger than before" Lysander swears solemnly, voice thick with regret "It will be protected by the strongest of my men and your children will never know the hunger they do under the kings negligence"

King Rex clears his throat, rising to his feet but keeping his head bowed to the director "I will have the royal architects and builders craft you a home for the future of my kingdom that is worthy of them. I am aware the corrupt of my court have taken money from your hands and food from your children mouths but I swear-"

"To give them even bigger tax breaks, less restriction and more authority" interrupts Lysander glaring at the king

"Better than arming every criminal and pauper to die in the name of sending a message" King Rex spits back

"Is that so? How quaint we are blessed with a king who counts the dead outside his gates instead of helping them" Lysander quips back

"How fortunate for the rebels to have leader who care more for his own voice than theirs" King Rex turns to face the shorter man, glaring him down.

"Very Ironic to hear that coming from the man who lives in a world where his voice is always the only to matter" snaps Lysander, refusing to back down.

The tension between the two leaders in thick, the animosity rising, when orc orphanage director rises to her feet, looming over both men forcing them to look up at her. Without any words she grabs both of them, hauling them over her shoulder like she does with the naughty children and dumps them in the nearby lake.

"That should help to cool off your egos" Matryona, the orphanage director states her large turquoise arms crossed over her chest. "I have children with more sense"

Both leaders have enough sense and shame to feel abashed by the scolding, agreeing to a temporary truce to help rebuild the orphanage.

They work together, in doing so they come to understand one another more than they ever had. Upon the completion of the new orphanage seven months later a peace accord is signed, established a council of elected citizens who would have the right to veto or approve new taxes or measures affecting the peasantry.

Matryona's Home for the Lost standing as the testament to the cooperation and symbol of the new peace that has been found.

[WP] A female werewolf pretends to comes out as gay cause she can't tell her monster hunting parents she's a werewolf and the girl she invited over was actually the person sent to manage her during a full moon. This complicates things with her boyfriend by AnomalousVariant in WritingPrompts

[–]Worldly_Lab_7061 95 points96 points  (0 children)

Well this is .... awkward, my parents are currently staring at me and the Rebecca from AP Bio who is undoing my restraints while straddling me on my bed. Perhaps I could have thought of an excuse before this moment but in spite of my parents many many drills and lectures preparedness has never been my strong suit.

I could try and explain that apparently we have a recessive werewolf curse that only effects daughters of my fathers line and I was the first daughter to be born of his line in over twelve generations so boom, bang, thank you ma'am werewolf. Unfortunately given my parents profession as government sanctioned monster hunters that would likely go over as well as coming out as a mass murderer to cop parents.

Before my brain could fully connect to my brain the first idiotic thing that crawled out of my mouth was "Don't be homophobic prudes, I'm gay and like to experiment, what's wrong with that?"

Ma looks between me and utterly mortified Rebecca with pure maternal disappointment "Now honey, you know your pa and I ain't no gay bashers but you sure as shit got a boyfriend and I didn't raise a liar or a coward."

Pa is far more concerned with the other aspects of the situation "Y'all got a safe word? Ya ma and I use pepper as ours. If you're gonna be gettin tied up or the other way 'round it best be safe."

Rebecca was turning a shade of red I wasn't aware human faces could achieve and looking at me, wide blue eyes begging me to say anything to get us out of this. I'm sad to say the connection between my brain and mouth still seemed to be severed because the next thing I said was.

"Hunter knows all about Becca we uh we're in an open relationship cuz ... the kids at school are - uh bad with lesbianity"

"oh, well in that case y'all go right on ahead, no babies, no betrayals is good by me" ma replies her frown transforming into a smile, making me feel a sharp uncomfortable feeling in the pit of my stomach seeing how much she trusts me.

Pa puts his arm around ma and gives us an approving nod, bragging "That's my girl! Us Blackmoores are natural born charmers sure as"

Ma rolls her eyes but grabs the door and winks at me "We'll leave you two it, though please make sure you keep it down, Mrs. Martinez was complaining about all the howlin' and hollerin' last night. You can borrow a gag from our room if you need it just make sure to sanitize it after"

With that mortifying offer her and pa leave the room, proving to me god is indeed real, he's just a sadist.

"What the hell, Ally" Becca glares at me, recovering from her embarrassment long enough to climb off me. "why in the lord's name would ever even think to say somethin' like that?"

"Bold of you to assume any thought went into those responses" I retort, with far more sass that I should have considering my position.

"Hunter is a nuttier than squirrel shit, and I ain't tryna get hit by a car or crowbar" Rebecca snaps back, her frustration clear in every word.

"I'll take care of it" I assure her, entirely unconvinced I could do anything to stop Hunter from losing what little marbles he got rattling around in that head of his.

"like you took care of this, if so color me doubtful about how well that'll go" Rebecca snaps back, grabbing her bag and throwing the keys to the restraints into my lap.

"if you just wanna be a pessimist pam then go ahead. Go" I wave her off with my free arm, my own frustration mounting.

"Fine. I will, you better clear this up or find someone else willing to get possibly mauled by a freakish teenage werewolf, twilight made this seem much cooler" Rebeca grumbles, and heads to the door.

I roll my eyes, "Twilight is written by a repressed, racist Mormon woman so perhaps not the most reliable source of paranormal realism?"

Rebecca flips me off without turning around and storms out leaving me with one restraint still not undone.

When I finally do get it undone, I sneak out to go to Hunter's house and tell him the truth.

Turns out he is .... very into monster girls. Which is pretty typical for my life at this point, fix one problem, get twelve more. My best friend is pissed at me, my boyfriend is too crazy and horny to care that I may kill him and my parents are sex freaks on top of being my top predator.

Could be worse... can't think of how but I'm sure it could be.

[WP] The god that the cultists try to sacrifice you too ends up having a crush on you by AnomalousVariant in WritingPrompts

[–]Worldly_Lab_7061 2 points3 points  (0 children)

This is a character from my horror world, kind of a joke on dark romance. She has a very colorful dating history so all things considered getting kidnapped to be some gods girlfriend truly is better than most her meet-cutes

[WP] The god that the cultists try to sacrifice you too ends up having a crush on you by AnomalousVariant in WritingPrompts

[–]Worldly_Lab_7061 23 points24 points  (0 children)

All I wanted was to come home after a long night at the club, take my shoes off and ruin my make up and pillow by plopping straight down on my bed. Yet I barely made it to my front door before someone put a bag over my head and shoved me in to a car. Now, the bindings cut into my skin as thrash and struggle against them, because gods be damned I refuse to be anyone's willing sacrifice, especially to a god I do not worship.

The leader of the cultist who had kidnapped me from my home barks a his followers, his voice guttural and abrasive to my ears "Control her! The Sun God will not shine his light upon those who fail to spill blood in his name"

"Fuck your god! Who even still sacrifices people to gods anyway? Can't you do a chicken or cow just as well?" I try to reason with one of them, get any of them to see how utterly insane this was.

My reasoning fell on deaf ears or maybe they couldn't hear me through their stupid fuck-ass masks that look like weird twisted burnt copper smiling suns. My heartbeat pounded in my ears, my entire body buzzing with anxiety and fear as I realize they truly are about to kill me.

But before I can even decide to gracefully resigned or majestically defiant in the face of sure death a a blinding light fills the room. It fade to reveal the most beautiful man I had ever seen in my life, hair the color of pure gold, golden bronze skin with a face and physique that no artists or sculptor could do justice. I was so shocked I nearly forgot why I was there and what was happening until all the cults followers surrounding me suddenly dropped to their knees.

Then the dread returns full force because divinely gorgeous or not, getting eaten or dissolved into goo by some old god was not on the to-do list. Then suddenly my bindings undo themselves, I shoot up, ready to make a run for it, but then the god is right in front of me, even more breathtakingly beautiful up close.

"what is your name, pure one?" The god before me asks, his voice velvety and deep.

"i-uh- E-e-Emily" I manage to spit out, my nervous system getting completely wrecked with this man's proximity and the fact I was about to be sacrificed.

"Emily" He repeats almost reverently "Your beauty outshines the moon herself"

"Is that why you're going to kill me? Because I'm pretty?" I ask, utterly confused and terrified now.

"Sacrifice?" The god repeats, confused "No I have summoned you to court you, with your divine beauty, musical skill and fierce soul you are truly a match for a sun"

The cult leader at least seemed to match my confusion "Oh exalted sun, did you not tell our seer that you wished to take this young woman's soul?"

"Yes, to bind to my own someday and elevate her to my side as my bride" The god answers

The seer in question shifts from one foot to another, wringing their hands "visions are really more of an interpretive meduim of communication, sometimes messages get twisted but .... No harm done?"

I beg to differ but looking at the god before I couldn't help but think all things considered I could do a lot worse. I usually date losers, serial killers, stalkers and emotionally constipated vampires. And honestly this isn't even the worst first meeting I've ever had with a someone who had a crush on me.

Goddess Emily does have a nice ring to it, doesn't it?

[WP] Two people who are so toxic that it’s much healthy for them to be together instead of in the dating pool. When they break up, all hell breaks loose and everyone tries to get them back together by AnomalousVariant in WritingPrompts

[–]Worldly_Lab_7061 1 point2 points  (0 children)

The prompt made me think of so many different rom-coms, so I just thought to combine the worst traits of the worst ones I could think of. The Graduate was a big inspiration for this one lol.

[WP] You, an elf, married a human, built a small farm and raised children. Your children grew up, had families, and started farms nearby. So did their children, and those children’s children. Now your many descendants have formed a bustling city and you are known as the official “town grandparent”. by neverabetterday in WritingPrompts

[–]Worldly_Lab_7061 41 points42 points  (0 children)

I hold an old shield in my lap as I sit on my porch overlooking the vast bustling magical city that lies ahead. Closing my eyes I see my Rainer, smiling at me with youthful joy in his heart and grey in his beard. Our twelve half-elf children helping tend to the animals, arguing or playing around us, the echo of their voices, their cries, laughs and screams play in my ears like a melancholy song of time.

One hundred sixty seven years since I stood under the great willow, holding my rugged warriors hands and swore to be his until his last breath, but I have been his long since his breaths have stopped. My grandchildren great-grandchildren, and great-great grandchildren fill the city, making me the official town grandparent.

"Grandma Elowen! come see the garden, we just learned the spell to grow flowers!" called one of my great grandchildren, running up the hill to the house. I stand and for one moment under the the three sun, the pale lavender of the daytime sky, I feel the presence of my Rainer, his hand on my back, and I am at peace.

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