Bixby the Martian

Originally posted here July 27, 2023: writing-prompt-s : After watching the world end thousands of times across multiple timelines, you realise the only way to prevent Armageddon is to stop yourself being born. You vow to let world end in the most ridiculous way possible, because screw that. Listen. I know how it sounds. I’m not a bad person. Okay. Let me put this another way. You go and stop yourself from being born. Go and prevent me from being born. I’ll wait. Are you getting the picture here? The only way to prevent nearly everybody from dying is to do the impossible. And even if I theoretically could, there’s no guarantee that wouldn’t be the thing that triggered the fucking end. If I somehow go back and prevent myself from being born, then I’ll have never existed to prevent myself from being born. I don’t know how I can see these other realities. I know they exist, I know they’re real. I’ve been keeping journals since I was 15, when I started this plan, there’s so

Originally posted here February 13 2023: writing-prompt-s : You’ve just joined an adventuring party. The rogue wordlessly gives you a handkerchief and slinks away. “Ah, it’s his way of handling his kleptomania. Instead of stealing things at random, he’ll be going specifically for that.” You were confused about it, at first, because you’re particularly sharp-eyed. You’re the party ranger, you’re often the lookout, you have to be. You watch her in towns, eyeing the fancy lordlings that pass you on the street. The hunger in her eyes. (Is it anger?) But she was really cool about that one fuckup with the bear that first time out, even though she got a bit… mauled. (You still feel bad about that.) And she does stay out of trouble when you’re in town, even when someone is practically dangling their coinpurse in front of you, even when you’re tempted. And she’s, like, really pretty. So you try to help. At first, you leave it in a pocket, but just a little bit out. Like you stuffed

Originally posted here on July 12 2022:  Congratulations! You have decided to work with Tempus, INC, and you have passed your background checks and intelligent tests! In a few days, you will be contacted by support staff to begin training you on specific aspects of your missions.  In the meanwhile, this material will get you a little more familiar with the subject matter. Now that we have your NDA on file, we can tell you a little more about this whole process!  Likely you saw something about us in the news. We have produced photographs as well as accurate 3d models from such sites as Pompeii before the eruption of Mount Vesuvius, Paris during the erection of the Eiffel Tower, the Battle of the Bulge, as well as the Great Cleansing, and have settled at least 40 serious academic debates about mysteries of history (thus far).  So, here’s some things to know. You will be sent to some period of time in our past, a particular millisecond. The device you will receive will slow

Originally posted here June 30, 2022: writing-prompt-s : After a bad crash you’ve found yourself drifting through space, but your suit says you ran out of oxygen an hour ago. The first thing is this: do not panic. Do not panic. Panic won’t help. There’s two options here. There’s only two. Either the suit readout is incorrect, or I’m dead. Those are the only options, there’s no other possibility. It would be foolish to assume I am dead. If I am, there’s not much I can do to change it, but if I’m not , I still have a chance. So, until proven otherwise, I am not dead. I am not panicking. (I am panicking very slightly, but functioning.) I am having the suit run a diagnostic. I am trying to get my bearings and trying to remember what happened. I can do neither of these- I believe I may have taken a head injury in the process of whatever has occurred. Which is a significant medical emergency in it’s own right, really, but I don’t have time to deal with that right now, because I hav

Originally posted here October 20 2021: writing-prompt-s : You’re a mimic. You were disguised as a chair in a dungeon when an adventurer decided to take you as loot. You’ve actually enjoyed your life ever since as furniture in a jolly tavern. So when some ruffians try to rob the now-elderly adventurer’s business, you finally reveal yourself. Okay, so- hey, hey! Stop with the screaming, you’re gonna wake people up! Shut up! If I wanted you dead, you’d be dead. Listen for a minute, already. I was just minding my own- I am so serious right now. If you wake Bob up, you won’t like what I do. He’s not young, these days, he needs his rest. Okay? Okay. Anyway. I was minding my own business. I was a fairly young mimic, I’d just really sort of settled into my first good morph. When you’re really young, freshly spawned, you sort of rotate through things, and you don’t quite get it right, most of the time. It’s like learning how to walk for people, I think. You’re small, you don’t quite

Originally posted here on October 27, 2020: writing-prompt-s : You’re a daycare worker, watching over toddlers, when the imminent end of the world is announced. It becomes increasingly clear none of the kids’ parents are going to show up as the end inches nearer. [Audio starts] “Mom has been texting me for the last twenty minutes. She wants me to come home. It’s a four hour drive, when the roads are clear, and from what I hear everybody is trying to get somewhere right now. There’s no telling if I’d even-” “Everybody else has left. All the other kids were picked up, the other staff left. They gave me all the keys. I promised to stay and wait for as long as- well. Even if some of the parents show up, I guess some of them won’t, so I’m just waiting. Until.” [Clears throat.] “A couple of people came after everybody left. Peter, one of Aidan’s fathers, gave me three hundred dollars for staying. What am I going to do with money? It’s- anyway. I kind of get it. He wanted to giv

Published here August 24, 2020:  writing-prompt-s : You are the completely ordinary secretary to a team of superheroes, and the only person who knows their secret identities, hideouts, etc. What happens when the supervillains find out about you? “Personal assistant,” she said, reaching for her wine. “I’m sorry?” “Personal assistant, not secretary.” “Forgive me,” I said. “Still, not quite the meat of the question.” She tilted her head at me, and there was an amused glimmer in her eye. “Nothing,” she said. “What?” “Nothing, nothing happens. Or rather there is generally some type of conversation and the outcome is I continue to do my job with no harassment.” She sipped at her wine, and her eyes were merry and amused. “How does that work, exactly?” I had my theories, of course. She’s been kidnapped twice, had her life threatened a few times, and yet… she’s fine. The two times she was kidnapped, she was released unharmed without intervention. “I don’t normally like to talk this m

Posted here on April 15 2020: writing-prompt-s : You are a human in world were all of the cryptic creatures you’ve ever known are real, every year there is a reunion where all of the local cryptics reunite and have a chance to talk with the humans. This year for some reason you received an invitation to be the host of the ceremony, however, this is a position that only cryptids can have. Your neighbors all have the same invitations, that’s were you notice, you are the only human in a neighborhood of shape-shifters. The envelope is addressed to me, from the Society of Cryptids in the Earthly Plane.  My first thought, naturally, is that it’s a fundraising letter.  I get them, about once a season- sometimes more often, sometimes less. You know how it is, you give once and you’re on the mailing list forever, right? Anyway, SoCEP, among other things, helps cryptids deal with territorial encroachment and adjust to, like, living indoors and so on.  I threw the letter on the table

Originally posted here March 21, 2020: writing-prompt-s : You’d known, intellectually, that your heroic nemesis was a teenager, but it didn’t really sink in until the day their school called because your number was the only one on their emergency contact list. Here’s the thing, okay?  I knew she was young. Like, obviously she was young. A mask and costume can only disguise so much, right? But I thought, for sure, college age. It’s hard to tell for sure through costumes and she wears a lot of padding and armor. (Very sensible, it’s a dangerous job.)  Still, I took it easy on her. No head blows, right? I also tried to avoid any joint injuries, because I suspected she was on a sports team. (Turns out she runs track.) Like, sure, I’m a ‘villainess’ or whatever, but I’m not actually fuckin evil. I want what I want but I don’t actually want to maim some idealistic coed over it. Like, come on. Life is hard enough for young women. I know that. And I got the sense that, for her, i

Originally posted here on October 7 2019:  writing-prompt-s : “Would you die for me?” “Again?” “What?” he asked. He looked amused, as if she’d just said something humorous, but he got the joke an she didn’t. She was not amused. “About once a month you ask me a question like this. I’ve been ignoring it, because I was having fun, but it’s getting weird. You ask me if I’d do something extreme to save you. Would I give up an arm to save you. My leg, my big toes, my smile. You’ve asked me this question about most of the parts of my body, including those I’d need to survive, phrasing it as some cute hypothetical that I then play off and try not to act like you just asked me something deeply weird.” He blinked. “That’s not-” “You want to know if I’d destroy myself for you. That’s really what it’s about.” She leaned back and stared up. The trees above them shivered in the breeze. “We have this conversation over and over, in different ways, and have since we started having lunch tog

Originally posted here on September 9, 2019: writing-prompt-s : You live with a Vampire. Every Saturday, you give them a cup of your blood, and they cook you a nice meal. Here’s the thing, I assumed that the thing was a joke. It was just a humorous listing, right?  “Fully furnished private room available in historic home, well maintained. Rural living skills are a plus- if you know anything about gardening or livestock, please consider us! Close to town but outside of the bustle, perfect for someone who just wants to get away! We have a household of mostly women in a variety of creative pursuits. Rent very reasonable, less than 200 per room, all bills including internet (we just got fiber!) but please interview for further information. Women preferred. Pets are welcome, though large dogs will need to be carefully introduced and monitored. House owned by immortal blood drinker, but very friendly and knowledgeable, just hefty sun allergy. Blood donations are accepted but not

Originally posted here on May 23, 2019: writing-prompt-s : You are back in your hometown for the weekend, and run into your long lost love. You are both happily in a relationship now but while you sit for a coffee and laugh about the old times, he suddenly gets very serious and says “it’s still you, you know? The person I see by my side, at the end of the day”. And your heart stops. My breath stops. I feel like I’m going to be fucking sick.  I can feel my hands start to shake, and I press them to my legs, wiping them down the front of my jeans to hide it.  He’s still smiling at me, a sort of gentle smile, encouraging and a little sly. Like he knows he’s knocked me for a loop, and he’s proud of himself for it.  I feel my hands form into fists, and press them to the tops of my thighs beneath the table. I want to punch him in the fucking teeth. “I’m sorry?” I said.  “You heard what I said.” I swallow the angry bile rising in my throat. “David we broke up 15 years ago, for a goo

Originally posted here May 1, 2019 writing-prompt-s : After beating the hero near death, the villain is finally told that the hero isn’t even 18 yet. Now the villain is taking the hero to go fight the gods who had sent him, looking to stop them from endangering kids for their own benefit. A/N: This is… not quite what was asked for. He came shouting accusations, he came with god-touched weapons and interrupted their singing. He threw the spear at her and almost caught her a painful blow. Silphia nearly struck his head from his shoulders in one swift blow, before she saw that he was shaking. Before she saw the youth etched in his face. She caught herself in time, and nearly snatched the other weapon from his hands. The net she threw into the fire. Her hearth had been burning since before apes were born, it could destroy anything wrought by man or god. “You stole my little sister!” He was quaking with anger. “You made the drought! The gods told us!” “And they sent you, an un