Suicide is not a form of pacifism.

[removed]

[removed]

alternate ending: Abby knows what purposes the military has in mind for her and questions her ability to prevent it. Abby voluntarily deletes her consciousness in order to prevent that power from being used to do harm, following her Father’s teaching about pacifism.

Just wanna see how OP has her get her just desserts.

I was not born special. The event of my birth was as normal as any other child, a run of the mill baby with run of the mill parents in a house far too cramped and a head far too big for my neck. Yet despite the absolute mundaneness of my birth, my parents loved me as if the world had become anchored around my existence. For them I think it really did.

The house in which I was raised was only special to us, and only because it was ours. To any passerby, any wandering eye on the sidewalk who glared into the windows, they would read our lives as nothing but simple. As a mother who cooked and a father who worked. A child with a sensible amount of curiosity and another who died young. But that wasn't notable, that was just life. That was my life.

But of course, somewhere along the way, I thought the world had begun to revolve around me too. Convinced so by how much love my parents showed me. I must be special if they thought so, my parents were never wrong. And in this rare, stupid instance, it turned out I was right.

I had realized quickly as a child that I could move things. Not move from place to place, but between places. I'd put something behind my back and poof, gone. Then with my other I'd reach into the apparent void and just like that, it'd be back again.

A superpower? Hardly. Hell, it was hardly even of any convenience. I had only ever used it as a party trick. A simple display of harmless fun to entertain guests. Well, at least that was until I understood where it all led to.

It was Jackson's thing, a party I guess you could call it. Not enough people to be considered a party I'd thought, but he was turning twenty-one and those few of us there were making a big show of it. Finally he asked me, as he always did when he introduced me to others, if I could show them my "superpower". I obliged, starting with a candle, then a book, a handful of marbles, simple stuff. Sometimes it'd come back odd, candles used, marbles scuffed, minor things that I couldn't explain.

But it didn't seem to be enough, not for Jackson.

"Ok, ok! Now do me!" The room shut up at his eagerness.

"Have uh...have you tried it on a person Harry-" A concerned voice spoke up from the back of the room. But Jackson insisted.

"What? If not even better! I'll be the first." Jackson continued. Everything you've ever put in comes back right?"

I was hesitant, scared, but eager to know where it all went. So, he positioned himself behind me. The small crowd of friend's leaned in as if to notice any imperfection. Any clue of how my oddity worked. But nothing. The moment my hand touched him he simply faded from our existence.

The crowd ooe'd but I trembled knowing the power I now held. If I decided to do nothing he would be gone forever. My hands shook. Instantly I pulled him back, reaching into the void behind my back and yanking. What came through the other side though was something different. Much older, grayed hair and circular wrinkles around his eyes. A pair of wire framed glasses he did not previously have.

"I...I...send me back. God please send me back." An audible gasp blew through the room at this older mans desperate pleas. His eyes shot between us as if we were nothing more than distant strangers. But I knew it was him.

"Jackson? What was on the other side- where did you go?" I stuttered the words out.

"Paradise, hell, purgatory, does it matter?! Send me back! Please god what sort of cruel dream!" He dropped to his knees in a desperate plea. Rather than wait for my reply he gripped my hand and dove at my back, dissapearing once again.

Instantly I yanked back, feeling around the void for his shape, but gripping nothing. Nothing came. Nobody in the room moved, they all just stared at one another in disbelief as I struggled. I put my hands behind my back and yanked, and yanked, and yanked, my heart pulsing in my chest.

"Jackson! Jack!" I yelled, pulling one last desperate time. And this time something did come from the other side. A person, child, smooth skinned and wide eyed, no older than five. He looked like Jackson, in an odd way; something deep in his eyes.

"Jackson?" I questioned in a whisper.

And the child shook its head up and down.

Then and there I knew, it was true I was not born special, I was born cursed.

"Are you sure? This isn't our scene. Wouldn't you much rather play Mario Kart in your parents basement?" I exclaim while my knee moves as quickly as my heart is beating. I feel myself sink deeper in the passenger seat of Darren's Accord. "Dude, just chill. Don't you think we're too old to be doing that every weekend. Just breathe a bit, maybe have a few beers. We'll have a good time." "You know my parents don't usually let me out, I don't wanna disobey them the first chance I get." "Listen Howe, all will be fine. If you follow my lead you might even enjoy yourself. Speaking of which, Tommy told me Jess Hernandez is gonna come through."

We make our way inside Tommy's house party. I make sure to take with me a stick of gum and some confidence (girls like that). The noise of the loud music and yelling was disorienting at first but after Darren and I met up with Tommy things felt all chill. I clocked Jess hanging with her friends near the drinks. As we settled in my mind see-sawed on whether I should go over there and start up some conversation. Darren noticed my internal struggle and my googly gaze at her direction. "Before your eyes pop out their sockets go talk to her. Dont knock yourself yet, how about you give her a conversation starter." "How do you propose I do that?" "Do the thing." As Darren flexes his eyebrows a couple times. "Are you crazy?! I can't, my parents said-." "Enough of that bull shit. Your hanging with the boys now. I say if you wanna chance to talk to Jess, you need to impress." "Okay, fine." I concede. Darren winks at me and smiles.

"Hey everyone check this out!" Yells Tommy. The room goes quiet as all eyes now stare directly at me and my friends. Darren tosses an empty beer bottle at me, I catch it surprisingly gracefully and I try super hard to concentrate as I "do the thing". In my hands the beer bottle disappears. Everyone roars. I look around, I see Jess. She's smiling and in disbelief. "You guys wanna see something really cool?" Darren steps up and whispers to me, "Make me disappear." I hesitate but as the party chants, "Do It!" I have no choice. I whisper to Darren, "Are you sure." He assures me all is fine. So I set Darren up infront of me, I put my hands on each of his shoulders. I drown out the noise around me, I close my eyes and lower my head, my arms shaking, my head feels compression. I raise my head to my own amazement Darren is no more. He's gone.

Everyone now holds their breath before I bring Darren back into physical reality. As he phases and reappears Darren doesn't look like Darren. He's back but he's frail, wrinkly, and old. He screams in fright. The party forms into a tighter circle. Darren falls as his knees give out, his body drops to the floor before I'm able to get a grip on him. I freak out, I feel my body go cold, I'm frozen like a statue. Tommy helps him up. The look on Darren's face haunts me, his words even more so: "What did you do to me. What took you so long? Why did you wait so long." The breath in my lungs disappear as quickly as he did, words on the edge of my tongue fail to my lips. Terrified I remain still. Some of my peers begin to turn on me, shoving me. Tommy yells at them to stop but maybe I deserve it. Darren out of breath asks me to turn him back. I don't know how. "If I try to make you disappear and reappear again how do I know you won't come back worse?" I've never used my powers on a living organism. I shouldn't have agreed to be a stupid party trick. "Please Howe, at least try." Tommy pleads. I look at old Darren and I can't in good conscience send him back knowing he may not return.

I need fresh air. I decide to try to leave the house. I pass Jess and I feel her stare at me in distraught. I can't handle the pressure surrounding me. Finally, I escape, alone outside I let out tears of stress. Tommy sends everyone home. As every scared and disappointed person retreat, they whisper things about me as if I can't hear them as they pass by. "He's a freak." "Howe just killed his own friend." "Best party ever." Finally, I go back inside. I see Darren and Tommy sitting on the living room couch. Darren pleads to me once more, "I need you to make me myself again Howe. I trust you. Please." "Focus on bringing him back the way he was before. You can do it." Tommy reassures me. Tommy holds Darren up as he is between my hands again. I close my eyes tight and deeply breathe through my nose. I lift my head as the light in the room can be felt through my eyelids. I feel Darren go. I begin to pray as I attempt to bring back my friend. My eyes welling up with tears, I squeeze as much of my powers out of me as I can. Tommy stays as silent as a mouse. My heart beats out of my chest. I yell and open my eyes, chills run down my spine. Between my hands something begins to reappear.

Dust.

[removed]

My man running around isekaing people.

SEND MY PENIS TO PURGATORY YALL

Pt. 1

‘Let me start from the top of how you found me and thanks for giving me some biofuel. It’s the equivalent of a narcolepsy until I get charged on up.’ I say as I put the biofuel into my reactor.

After I charge up, I crawl my centipede-esk body along to the equivalent of my captors level and face my screen towards my interrogator as a show of face-to-face interaction. Assuming it doesn’t make them want to scrap me more than they obviously already do.

———

‘Listen you idiotic lameo hacker, I know you have an aimbot. How else could you even compare to me’ says Lt-Hkr-29, my pseudo friendly rival in a 40k fps video game. The only thing my creator left me, apart from the code to the wifi, that I can use in his bunker

“You could say I am ‘built different’ Hkr. Oh also, don’t mind the mine.” I reply to Hkr as he steps onto a mine I placed down earlier in the match after calculating they would go that way.

‘THATS IT, SEE YOU SOON YOU ****ING HACKER! YOU TECH-PRIEST HATING SON OF A *****’ says my rival Hkr as they rage quit, and lavishing in my victory against my rival.

After the match, I exit my creators bunker through his ‘secret murder bot hole’ in the middle of nowhere and harvest some miscellaneous plants I let grow nearby for renewable Biofuel and some solar power as well. Ironic that I news created as a murderous robot but through sentience and being alone after my creators death only kill plants and people in video games.

——

‘How did your creator die? You never said who made you.’ interrupts my interrogator. By the looks of it, she wasn’t more than 21 and quite small in stature.

“I don’t like to talk about my creator but they died by a crash with a hot dog shaped automobile. His ‘self implanted bionic eye of evil’, as he called it, sent the last 5 minutes of his life to me… it is kinda funny. Want to see?’ I answer.

‘No thanks I-‘ says my interrogator as I start the clip anyway.

‘You said your touch screen on your face, do I turn this off?’ she says as I continue to play the clip and make a joking ‘YouTube clickbait’ image of the hotdog automobile and my creators face in a funny expression.

As they tap my screen face as I wasn’t paying attention to them, they find my AI program and in a fury delete it.

As my consciousness fades out; I hit the desk…

When I reawaken a minute later, two way stronger men are dragging my body out as the interrogator panics.

‘You know, that seriously sucks when that happens.’ I respond in a joking manner while putting a annoyed emogi on my screen.

I like to think that he just stopped existing although I didn't know how to put that in the story, and that felling of non existance is good somehow and addictive. (Like, and I know how it's going to sound, mr. Meeseekes from rick and morty).

But you are welcome to belive whatever you want : )

A ai that just gain sentience when their friend got wounded

O_o

His name is Cam. He was a high school math teacher until the age of 26, when it became too boring for him. He switched to being a skydiving instructor, but quit that after having a bad dream and being scared of heights after that. He is currently working in sales-management for a solar panel producer. He has 2 very lovely cats called Wee (white) and Kun (brown with thin black stripes), 6 and 4 years old. His favourite food is fried rice from the asian place next door. He lives in the suburban district of a city in the south of Norway. He doesn't have a wive, but is seeing a woman called Mary that he likes. Last week, his cousin Brek went on a biking trip with him, they had a lot of fun but Cam fell one time and now has a light bruise on his lower left arm and his left knee. Yesterday he went shopping and treated himself with a new laptop. He likes playing casual games like online chess on it. His plants for the next week are: Get the new presentation from work done, look after Brek's dog for 2 days, get Wee and Kun to the vet because they each have a small injury from playing a bit too rough, buying groceries,and reading the book "the martian" that has been gathering dust on the shelf for a few months.

So this was it. This was how it all ends.

“Dad! Dad I’m here!” He hears his eldest daughter burst through the door of his room. He could smile. She looked so much like him when he was her age. To think his little girl was now a woman grown, a mum herself! Bandit smiled as he thought about this surrounded by all his loved ones.

“Hey kid. You made it.” Bandit began to cough. His eyes closed but he was still there. He felt Chili’s fingers wrap around his hand. Oh how she brought him such joy all these years. Even now to the very end.

“Oh dad. Oh dad.” Was all Bluey could muster before she too was sobbing at Bandit’s side alongside her sister. Bingo embraced her sister, she too eyes red and puffy from crying earlier.

“My girls… My brave big girls… I’m so proud of you two. I always was.”

Bandit couldn’t believe he’d come this far in life. He never thought he’d be a dad. Never imagined a life where he was raising two kids. He wasn’t perfect, his temper sometimes got the best of him, and he didn’t have all the answers in the world. But somehow it all worked out for the Heeler family. And now Bandit was here, with his loving wife and two grown kids.

Bandit smiled at Jean-Luc at the corner of the room. He was holding Little Bandit in his arms. The sprog had his mothers ears and a mix of Jean-Luc and Bluey’s coat. LB was still so young, so small. Bandit remembered when his girls were so small.

Oh. Oh so this is what this feels like. Bandit realized now. He finally got it.

This is what it feels like to have no regrets. He was happy. He always was. Always will be.

Bandit closed his eyes one last time. His heart full and warm.

…

…

…

“Mum. What was grandpa like?”

“Grandpa was… a good dad.”

[removed]

##Well Well Well

Harold skipped along the path without a care in the world. The birds were singing, and the sun was shining. His path was interrupted by a small well. He looked to see the bottom of the well, but he couldn't see it. He did the sensible think and dropped a stone in it. After waiting for several seconds, he heard no sound so he skipped along.

Harold continued to skip through the forest without a care in the world. The leaves were dancing, and the squirrels were scurrying. Truly a lovely day to be alive. His path was again interrupted by the well. Again, he couldn't see the bottom of it. So he dropped another stone. Off he went.

Harold loved to skip in the forest. The grass tickled his feet. The butterflies were flapping their gorgeous wings.

"My oh my," Harold said. It was the well again. He picked up a stone and dropped it.

"Stop that," the well said.

"Oh my, who's there?" Harold asked.

"My name is Dasonero." A woman with three bumps on her head popped out of the well. "Why do you keep hitting me?"

"I'm sorry. I just wanted to see how the deep the well was." Harold held out a hand. "Do you need help getting out of the well?"

"No, I'm the naiad of this well. I provide freshwater to all who come," Dasonero said.

"Oh, that's good. I'm awfully thirsty," Harold replied.

"Absolutely not, you're getting nothing," Dasonero said.

"Alright." Harold skipped away from the nymph. After a few seconds, he came to the well again and tossed a stone inside of it.

"What did you do that for?" Dasonero asked.

"For not getting my water, it's been a long day skipping," Harold says.

"Why do you keep doing this? Are you skipping in circles like an idiot?" Dasonero asked. Harold tossed another rock.

"That's for calling me an idiot," Harold said. A bird flew next to Dasonero.

"Just go with it. We're all terrified of him," the bird said. Dasonero looked around the forest. She saw the hamadryads and dryads stare at her with pained looks.

"My god, what have you done you monster?" Dasonero said. Harold tossed a rock at the bird.

"This is my domain. All shall obey me," he said.

"Where do you keep finding rocks?" Dasonero asked. Harold threw a rock at her. She caught it and threw it back. Harold fell over. When he got up, he cried and ran away.

"You're a meanie," he yelled.

"What a strange person," Dasonero said. Harold cried and ran past her several more times. "Do you need help getting out of here?"

"Yes," Harold said.

"Just go straight and take a left at the big red tree than a left at the tree with blue flowers," Dasonero said.

"Thank you." Harold ran off. A bird sat next to the well.

"You've saved us all."

"I'm still not sure what I did," Dasonero said.

"Me neither," the bird replied.

"I guess the lesson is don't go throwing rocks in random wells," Dasonero shrugged.

r/AstroRideWrites

Thank you!

Thanks. I like to think he was absolutely deflated at that moment, only to be utterly flabbergasted when it started to move. :)

Heh, thanks. Wasn't picturing any particular model in my head, but also kinda figured any era tank from WWI to modern day would likely make quick work of a dragon at point blank range. So if I had to choose one as a model, then yeah, the M46 Patton is pretty on-the-money

a sentient rock they are easy going and adventures but reckless.

“Eh. Its not real.”

The writer says staring at the comment. Sure, they could look up what SCP 682 is and truly craft a witty narrative that defeats it. Or react in horror as it seemingly is an unkillable being in the world of SCP. But that is the trick:

Its all fiction.

And whats the best way to kill off a character? Not even believing in it. They sit back and type up their response as such and headed straight to bed.

This is really cool. I'd be itching to ask Josh where he'd been and what he'd seen.

The Librarian was pushed down the stairs for declaring reading manga as not true literature. The teenager had no idea she was guarding the necromomicon. The thiefs think the kid is a master of the mystic arts.