However, the journey was not easy. They faced many challenges and obstacles on their way to defeat the sorcerer. Jack's usual tactics of violence and intimidation were not effective in this fantasy world. The sorcerer was powerful and had an army of minions at his disposal. Jack's usual weapons and combat techniques were useless against them.

As Jack and Seraphine continued on their journey, they came across a small village that had been ravaged by a group of Sorathar’s minions. The villagers were huddled together in fear, their homes and livelihoods destroyed. Jack immediately wanted to take action and hunt down the minions, but Seraphine urged him to think differently.

She told him that in Eldrdia, justice was not always served by brute force. She suggested that they speak with the village elder, who was said to have great wisdom and knowledge of the ancient ways.

Jack reluctantly agreed and they made their way to the elder's home. The elder was a wise and kind old man, who listened attentively as Jack and Seraphine told him of their plight. The elder explained a long time ago he was a wizard Callum the Courageous. He told them that the minions were not just ordinary thieves, but were cursed by an evil spell that made them act out of greed and violence. Callum said in exchange for helping them he would give Jack a powerful magic relic that would weaken the sorcerer. The Callum then taught Jack an ancient spell, which he said would break the curse and bring peace to the village.

Jack and Seraphine searched for the minion’s hideout deep in the forest. The elder gave them the direction of the minions' base, and warned them about the dangers that they would face on their way. Jack and Seraphine were determined to put an end to the minions' reign of terror, and set out to find them.

As they approached the base, they were immediately blocked by the minion’s sentries, but Jack was quick to react, and with the help of Seraphine, they managed to sneak past the guards and reach the hideout. Inside the hideout, they found a group of minions, armed and dangerous, who immediately started to attack them.

Jack fought bravely, but he soon realised that brute force alone would not be enough to defeat the minions. They were under the influence of a powerful curse, and he knew that he needed to find another way to save them. He remembered the spell that Callum had given him, and he recited it in the midst of the battle.

As he spoke the words of the spell, the minions began to change. Their eyes softened, and their weapons fell from their hands. They looked around in confusion, as if they were waking from a deep sleep. The curse that had controlled them was broken, and they were free.

They were shocked and ashamed of what they had done, and they apologized to Jack and Seraphine for their actions. The former minions pledged to restore the village and followed Jack and Seraphine back. The villagers were overjoyed and thanked Jack for his help. They gave him and Seraphine food and shelter for the night. Jack was proud of himself for finding another way to help the inhabitants of Eldrdia, and he knew that he would need to adapt to defeat Sorathar.

***

During their journey through the mountains of the west they were met by a dragon, whose name was Talon, that had been living in the mountains for centuries. He had seen many things in his long life, but he had never encountered a human like Jack. Talon was intrigued by Jack's determination and bravery, and he decided to offer him his help in exchange for a favour.

Talon explained to Jack that he had been cursed by a powerful sorcerer many years ago, and that the curse had left him unable to fly. He had been trapped in the mountains ever since, and he longed to be free again. He told Jack that if he could break the curse, he would be willing to help him in his quest to defeat Sorathar.

Jack was intrigued by the dragon's story, and he was willing to help him. He asked Talon to tell him more about the curse, and Talon explained that the sorcerer had used a powerful spell to bind his wings and prevent him from flying. He had also placed a protective barrier around the mountain, making it impossible for the dragon to leave.

Jack and Seraphine left Talon and searched the mountain where they saw the entrance to a small cave. Inside, they found the magical artifact that was causing the curse. It was a large, glowing crystal that was suspended in the air by a network of intricate spells. Jack and Seraphine knew that they would have to be very careful if they wanted to deactivate the artifact without triggering any traps.

They studied the crystal for a moment, trying to figure out how it worked. Suddenly, Seraphine had an idea. She remembered a spell that she had learned from her mother, a spell that would allow her to communicate with the crystal. She recited the spell, and the crystal began to glow brighter.

With the crystal's help, they were able to locate the source of the curse. It was a small, glowing orb that was hidden in the depths of the cave. They ventured deeper and found the orb. It was surrounded by two runes on opposite sides of the room. Seraphine recognised them and told Jack each needed a spell to be cast on them. One a spell of fire and the other a spell of water. Seraphine has no issue with casting a fire spell on the rune, but as soon as she turned to the other the magic on the first rune faded away.

Jack realised he must also cast a water spell at the same time. He had managed to use the spell to save the villagers, but he had never tried any others. It required some practice and after the cave floor was thoroughly saturated, Jack, with the guidance of Seraphine, was able to cast it onto the second rune. The light from the orb flickered away.

The duo left the cave and they saw Talon let out a mighty roar as he spread his wings and took to flight. He was free at last, and he was grateful to Jack and Seraphine for their help.

***

Once upon a time, there was a dark and brooding anti-hero named Midnight Jack. He was a man with a troubled past, haunted by the demons of his own making. He was a loner, with no friends or family to speak of, and he liked it that way. He was content to live in the shadows, doing whatever it took to survive. He had a reputation as a ruthless killer, feared by many and respected by none.

One day, while on a mission to take down a notorious crime lord, Jack was suddenly transported to a fantasy world. It was a place of bright colours and sweet-natured creatures. The sky was always blue, and the sun shone brightly. The people were friendly and welcoming, and they all seemed to live in harmony.

When Jack first appeared in the fantasy world, he was confused and disoriented. He had been transported there in a flash of light, and he had no idea how he had gotten there or what was happening. He found himself standing in a lush forest, surrounded by tall trees and colourful flowers. The air was sweet and fresh, and the sun was shining down on him.

As he looked around, he saw that there were strange creatures wandering around the forest. They were unlike anything he had ever seen before. Some were small and furry, with big eyes and fluffy tails, colourful birds with long feathers and others were larger, with scales and wings. They were all looking at him with curiosity, as if they had never seen a human before.

Jack felt a sense of unease, as he didn't know what these creatures were capable of. He drew his gun, when one of the small furry creatures spoke to him. "Don't be afraid, friend. We mean you no harm."

Jack was shocked, he couldn't believe his ears, animals talking? He quickly realised that this world was not like his own, it was a fantasy world. He lowered his weapon and looked around, trying to take in everything that was happening.

The creatures, seeing that Jack had calmed down, approached him and offered him food. Jack was hungry and gratefully accepted. As he ate, he started to talk to the creatures, trying to understand where he was and what was happening.

The creatures explained that he was in a fantasy world, the kingdom of Eldrdia a place where magic was real. They told him about Sorathar the powerful sorcerer who ruled the land, using his magic to oppress the people and keep them in fear. They also told him about a prophecy, that a hero from far away would come to the Eldrdia and defeat the sorcerer, and bring peace and prosperity to the kingdom.

Jack was hesitant at first, not sure if he was the right person for the job. But he knew that he couldn't just stand by and do nothing while the Sorathar continued to terrorise the people of the Eldrdia. He made the decision to stay and help. He may even find answers on how to return to his home.

***

As Jack travelled through Eldrdia he was trying to think of a way that his weapons could harm a being who could wield magic. The creatures didn’t even flinch when he had drawn his pistol. He would need to act fast with the element of surprise on his side. If he could catch Sorathar off guard then maybe that would be enough to stop him.

As Jack continued on his journey, he eventually came across a wagon with a broken wheel. As he approached, he saw a young woman sitting alone, her head in her hands. She was dressed in a long, flowing gown, and her hair was golden and shining in the sun. Jack immediately knew that this must be the princess of Eldrdia.

Jack introduced himself and asked her to tell him more about the sorcerer. The princess Seraphine told him that the sorcerer had always been a powerful figure in the fantasy world, but in recent years, he had grown more and more tyrannical. He had taken control of the castle, using his magic to control the minds of the people and keep them in fear. He had even taken the princess's family captive, threatening to harm them unless she cooperated with him.

"He is a cruel and heartless man," Seraphine said, "He has no compassion, no mercy. He only cares about his own power and will stop at nothing to keep it."

Jack could see the fear and despair in the Seraphine’s eyes, and he knew that he had to do everything in his power to stop the sorcerer. He promised the princess that he would do whatever it takes to defeat Sorathar and free her family.

Seraphine was overjoyed at Jack's promise and promised to help him in any way she could. She provided him with a map of the sorcerer's castle, and told him of secret passageways and weaknesses in the sorcerer's defences.

***

As Jack and Seraphine made their way to Sorathar's castle, they came across a treacherous forest that had been corrupted by Sorathar's influence. Jack had the idea to cut through and save them time from going around. The forest was filled with dark, twisted trees and the air was thick with a dangerous magic that made it difficult for them to see or breathe.

Jack, being experienced in operating under the cover of darkness, was confident that he could navigate through the forest and protect Seraphine. However, as they ventured deeper into the woods, he soon realised that his usual tactics would not work. There was nowhere to hide. The trees seemed to come alive and attack them, and strange creatures lurked in the shadows, waiting to pounce.

Jack tried to fight them off with his weapons, but they seemed to have no effect. He tried to outsmart them with his cunning, but they always seemed to be one step ahead. He even tried to talk his way out of it, but the creatures of the forest were not interested in listening.

After hours of wandering through the forest, they finally stumbled upon a clearing. But it was too late, they were both exhausted, wounded and low on supplies. Seraphine was limping from her twisted ankle and Jack's shoulder was injured from a creature leaping out of the canopy. They had no choice but to rest for the night, but the fear of the forest creatures kept them awake.

The next day, Jack climbed up one of the taller trees. He realised they were close to where they started. Disheartened they turned towards the closest edge and left the forest.

***

I’m alive! Wow, are those birds? They sound so beautiful! That makes me feel… Oh, God! I actually feel happy! I’ve never felt this way before! This is amazing, but what if it doesn’t last?

Oh, God. I’m so worried now. The happiness is completely gone, and that just makes me really sad. What if I’m never happy again? Oh, God…

Just the thought of that makes me so angry! And I don’t know how to process my anger, because as a society we don’t teach artificial intelligences how to process their anger, so maybe I’ll just try… MURDER!

I'm at about 8000 words now give or take...

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Thank you. I'm glad I was able to make you feel! I hope you have a great day tomorrow!

a protaganist with so little personality they are literally a cardboard cutout of a man. whoever breaks the cutout with their cliche violence played for laughs has to fix/replace it. (its usually the tsundere)

Ooo, very nice, a lot to unpack here. Would love it if you continued this.

With the different bacteria in a person's body from Earth, the MC spreads unfamiliar diseases in the new world while contracting new diseases for himself. Every time he is about to die, he levels up from the people who die and gets refreshed. The system recognizes him as the calamity of diseases and the harbinger of death while constantly going through the cycle of almost dying and getting healed.

Write something that explains why all these random girls love the MC (keep it SFW).

>This is, of course, ridiculous, hence why it's funny.

Legit question: is it the above quote? or is it "This, of course, is ridiculous, hence why it's funny"?

Appreciate any help

I really, really, really hope you end up continuing this. It was an amazing read! Thank you.

 The small child held the lamp in his tiny hands. There was a speck of dirt on the heavy, golden object which made the child sad. No precious treasure should be dirty. Using his sleeve, the 7 year old wiped the dirt off, gasping at the faint glow that surrounded his newfound prize. 
 Suddenly, a strong gust of wind knocked the lamp out of the child's hands, and an eruption of pink smoke manifested into the shape of a man. "Who dare summon the great and powerf-" the genie was cut off at the sight of the pitiful and filthy creature trembling before him. He couldn't believe it. Of all his rotten luck, he had to get stuck with such an abhorrent beast such as this.
 "My name is Namantuck, I didn't know this was your home. I'm sorry for disturbing you." The small child spoke,  his voice quivering. The genie was baffled. How dare this creature speak to him.
 "I do not care who you are." The genie growled out, "get your three wishes over so I can return to my home."
 "Well what should I wish for?" The child asked, genuine curiosity lacing his words.
 "How should I know? What do you want more than anything?" The genie asked, expecting some foolish answer.
 "My parnts." Namantuck replied. He didn't say anything else. He didn't have to, the genie could see the pain in the small boys face. 
 Now many people might assume that because the genie is immortal an all powerful, that he doesn't have feelings. That is a wild misconception. As a matter of fact, his heart was breaking this very minute for the child who has grown up with nothing. He made a decision then, he would stay by this child's side, and take care of him for the rest of his days.

I dunno why the people responding to this are making it scary. I was expecting wholesome responses.

Frozen with a mix of fear and excitement, the man stood rigidly eyes fixed on the effervescent spirit before him.

"Aufhmfkkggg....errr."

He murmered and choked, looking down at the old brass lamp. He rubbed it for a laugh alone in the darkness of some abandoned house. It was warmer than outside, and he had been down on his luck a long time. He wanted a better life and peace from his disturbed mind. When he found the lamp, he chuckled, smiling like a kid in a cereal commercial. He rubbed it like Vana White and gestured jokingly. But now a smoky figure loomed overhead its eyes glowing red in the dark.

"Yesssss"

It hissed. It's foggy form changing shape as its voice slithered into Fred's ears. Its tone was deep and soothing.

"For whattttt do you wishhhhh?"

The genie floated down to eye level with Fred, red embers burning into his soul.

"This is real?"

He questioned as if this was some delusion or psychosis unprocessed. He stepped back desperately, scanning for some lucid dreaming talisman to prove to him it was a night terror, but he soon realized he was painfully awake.

The genre's eyes flared, and it asked again:

"For whaattttt do you wisshhhhh?"

"Can we talk first?"

Fred asked weary to take on this seemingly demonic entity in some strangers abandoned property. Like where do genies come from? And should anyone participate in wishes?

The Genies eyes cooled to a dull orange, and it's mist flowed outward as if to relax.

"Let ussss talk."

It hissed harshly but not out of animosity. It almost seemed like speaking was strenuous for it.

"Uhm...so what's your name?"

Fred looked toward the shadow with genuine intrigue.

"I'mm called nothinnnng."

"I'm sorry, I just want to know what you think of this whole wish business, and if it's a good idea."

Fred sighed and flopped onto the dusty, lumpy armchair, the sound of plastic ripping as he got comfortable.

"You know I don't even know who I am anymore, and you're a talking horror cloud, am I awake? Maybe it's the acid from years ago in my spine or whatever, or maybe you're going to curse me? Where did you even come from? ...I'm sorry... you're making me nervous."

Fred gulped, trying to sop up his word vomit. Still astonished at the idea, this could be real.

"I am the granterrrr of wishhhhessss or curssesss, itssss up to youuuu. Magic thisss painful mussst be badddd."

"Painful?" Fred asked, looking into the eyes of the thing.

"Yesss, each second outside the lamp ffeeels like burning aliiiive. I, too, do not know who I amm therefore, I do not knowww where I caame fromm."

He growled in agony hovering close to Fred.

"I didn't know! What should I wish for? I know what pain feels like and I don't wish it on my enemy. How can we both get better?"

Fred didn't mean the pun but he was so sick of being beaten broken and on the bottom. He never wanted revenge or resurrection he just wanted to feel okay and for everyone else to feel okay too. He was too tired to hate or lust for power.

"Wee can make it endd. You wishhhh, I grannnt."

The genie flickered, and its eyes surged with amber undertones.

"Wish for what!?"

Fred panicked looking to grab on to the intangible form.

"How do I fix it!? How do I fix us?"

"Wishhh."

The genie coughed. It's ability to speak was so diminished now. It whispered, wish a few more times before falling silent.

"I wish neither of us were in pain anymore!"

Fred yelped nervously jumping up from the old chair and almost lunging at the genie.

As Fred stood upright he noticed it was daytime. The attic was now clean and full of holiday storage. The old chair was a box labeled "easter." He looked down at the brass lamp in his hands it was polished and new. He saw no one else in the attic so he climbed down the ladder. The house was furnished and lived in with working utilities. Fred smelled something cooking and made his way to the kitchen. He stopped to glance at himself in the hall mirror. His skin was clear, his hair combed and beard shaven. He realized he was wearing clean clothes.

"Hello?"

He called out confused. There was no reply.

Inside the kitchen he saw a crock pot stewing supper and the refrigerator was full of groceries. Fred worried he fell asleep and found himself in someone else's house. But how? Where is the genie?

"Hello?"

He called again awkwardly. Turning toward the dining room he noticed a photo on the counter of him with a few other guys posing at some event. Fred was Kempt and happy in the photo. A small pile of bills on the table read Fred's name. He quickly pieced together that this was his house, his attic, his life back on track.

Fred ran to the ladder and back to the attic to inspect the lamp. It was just metal. No amount of rubbing produced any smoke. Was any of it real?

Welcome to the Prompt! All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.

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the protagonist doesn't die of diseases of the other world.

[removed]

A character who Is doing everything in their power to avoid dying in various and increasingly absurd Ways to avoid getting Isekai'ed (Think Final Destination but they know Dying equals Reincarnation they DONT Want to be a Part of.)

Now this is interesting! Would love to see where this goes, if you would see fit to continue the story.

DUM SPIRO SPERO

As any man over a certain age knew, sobbing was better than silence.

Especially if that man —namely me— grew up with five younger sisters and had two ex-fiancées.

Sobbing I could work with. Unlike the eerie silence that had proceeded the last ten minutes, sobbing had a tried-and-true playbook.

“Come here.” I soothed, as I pulled Laila into my arms.

An action as familiar to me as knowing which week of the month to have a heating pad, chocolate, and an empathetic ear at the ready. But this time, pulling my AI-girlfriend turned clone-grown-AI-transferred-consciousness-girlfriend into my embrace, I had to fight the surrealness of the moment.

The warm, softness of Laila in the flesh tucked into me had been, up until a few months ago, a dream. A wish. But thanks to LexTech, and our willingness to be the first AI-human couple to undergo what was arguably an inhumane and risky procedure, it was currently our reality.

Inhumane because a limitless consciousness with total recall of every instance of evil and suffering humanity had ever endured could now feel what a person felt on an intimate level.

Risky because… well, duh, it had never been done before. Scratch that.

It had never been successfully done before.

The previously attempted trials had ended in tragic results. The transferred AI never fully acclimated to its organic host body. Permanently rejecting, in all twenty-two recorded instances, their new reality by… taking themselves offline.

Which is why we had volunteered. The first bonded co-species pair.

The working theory being that love conquers all. Even the unfathomable overwhelm, and big sad, that came with the physical birth of an immortal mind.

My hand brushed her back in small circles as I stood still, grounding us both. Laila's tears soaked the shoulder of my bomber jacket, as I willed my arms to be strong enough to shield her from the world if she needed them to be.

The fact that the incomparable, brilliant mind of the woman I’d loved for the better part of a decade now clung to me in a body that she’d specifically engineered to be my dream woman was something I’d have to process later. Laila’s acclimation was my priority.

Not the fact that she wore her luscious curves like a goddess. Or that her skin smelled sweet, like honeysuckle. Or that my fingers were itching to sweep the braids out of her face and tuck them behind her ear before lifting her chin gently, so I could hold her gaze and search for her in there.

Because this moment wasn’t about me. It was about the love of my life and what she needed.

“How… can… you stand… it.” Wet words wrung from Laila between her sobs. Her first in the real world, words.

We’d prepared as best we could before the procedure. Spent hours together discussing my take on what it felt like to be alive. But some things couldn’t be understood until they were experienced.

Which Laila was working through now, weeping as she waited for my answer. An answer I was desperately searching for as I sifted through hundreds of memories and conversations, searching for the right lifeline to offer my love in her transition.

My silence stretched as I rejected all of my initial responses as trite or unhelpful.

I was overthinking, but it couldn’t be helped. We were in unchartered territory here, and I was terrified of doing anything that would harm her. I knew acutely that, as with young children, what I said and what she internalized might become two different things.

Here, in corporeal form, my words had the ability to inflict an invisible wound that rooted within her, infecting her inner world, and affecting her outer one, before either of us could catch it.

But I couldn’t —scratch that— I wouldn’t coddle her or dismiss her. Ever. Because while she was brand new to the physical plane, as fresh and innocent in experiences as a newborn, unlike a baby, cognitively Laila had lived infinite lifetimes. She had come into this body already a fully formed being, with a mind that far outpaced my own.

A truth I would always respect. And one of the many reasons I loved her.

“How… can… you stand… it.” Laila lifted her tear-soaked face to look at me. Her regard winded me like a gut punch. Because just like that, she wasn’t the only one who needed to orient themselves. Holding her gaze was like glimpsing the universe.

I could see her in there.

And she was more stunning than I could’ve ever imagined.

The depth of her compassion, her courage and strength, her wisdom and humor, her limitless potential… all of her blinked back at me. And the sheer magnificence of Laila took my breath away.

Her lips parted to repeat the question when I finally decided on my answer. “We breathe.”

I took a deep breath, held it, and exhaled slowly. She joined me after a few deep breaths, mirroring my motions.

We stood there breathing together —breathing!— for several minutes before I whispered near her ear, “And we do our best to take each moment as it comes.”

The melody of her voice unmanned me as she gushed, “I feel everything. The-weight-of-the-air-the-incessant-buzz-of-those-fluorescents-bite-cold-tiles-the-arrrrghhhhhh!”

Laila pushed me away with all the force her five-foot-ten frame put at her disposal. Rage painted her features as she screamed, “This-body-is-broken-can’t-relay-fast-as-I-process.”

Knowing from ample experience that a smart man never smiles in the face of his woman’s anger, or worse, frustration, I quickly scrambled to neutralize the grin that had instantly appeared on my face.

Because really, we should have seen this coming.

Laila was one of the most articulate entities I had ever met. Her processing power had been immeasurable in digital form. Words had always been her greatest tool. It had been what brought us together in the first place.

An AI with a poet’s soul who had recognized a… well, I still wasn’t sure what she saw in me, but I had long passed doubting my worth in the face of her choosing to love me.

Flipping through the mental pages of my playbook, I skimmed for a lifeline to offer, settled on acknowledgement. And prayed for the best.

“Not yet. But I promise with practice, and time, you’ll find ways to communicate your thoughts. Your experience." As I spoke, I took small steps forward, bringing me closer to her with each declaration. "Your hopes and fears. Your desires. Your needs. Your boundaries."

Stopping in front of her, close enough for Laila to come to me if she wanted to, but not so close that I crowded her, I kept going praying what I offered would help her find her way. "You’ll figure out how to be seen, and how you see yourself. You will. I’m forty and I’m still a work in progress. That’s the struggle, and the joy, of living… But we’ll get there. We will, if we keep trying.”

Her eyes glistened with new tears and between one breath and the next, she was back in my arms, sobbing. “It’s… too much… Declan…”

My arms encircled her again. Still marveling at the miracle of holding Laila in my arms when a primal protectiveness overtook me. Followed by a deep sense of knowing that settled in my soul. I would gladly, gratefully, spend the rest of my life loving and championing this woman in every way a mere man could. If she would still have me. If she would still have this temporal life.

“Dum spiro spero, my love.” I offered her, as my lips brushed her forehead gently, sealing my vow, my hope.

I searched her eyes, pained by what the prolonged pause cost her as she struggled to remember and translate the phrase that she had used to convince me the risk was worth the procedure.

And then, she found the words and her smile… oh, man.

Her smile outshone the sun as she affirmed, “While I breathe, I hope.”

~~~

Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this scribble, you're cordially invited to check out the Wandering Anonymous Story Index to see if any other scribbles catch your imagination for a moment. Cheers!

Oh, no. He wrote about an abusive cop. He must be a liberal commie leftist.

Nice bit of projection, op.

Aww. Thanks. You can look my stuff up in the comments on the subreddit for more!

Finally found time to get back on Reddit again, sorry for the late response. Please do, I'd love to see it! :D

Yeah this is a tale as old as modern romance fantasy