Who said that this story could be real? And also r/whoasked

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My point is that you really don’t have privacy, if you send a text in the us that has words related to terrorism the government will start to read your text history and monitor you until they determine if you a threat or not.

I was about to mention that series!

The boy is in his mid twenties. Dressed in a simple but clean robe. He didn't look much like a villager. But here he was. His bright gray eyes fixed on the mighty being in front of him. He was not sure if the dragon was telling the truth or was just playing with him.

-Sir (he said hesitantly, trying to determine the sex of the creature to no avail) I am not the fairest of them all. Rather the most unfortunate it seems. I was a scholar from the academy of Kitzgerguard with a degree in monsterology...am I boring you?

-Not at all little one. After living for ten thousand years it is hard to be in a rush.

-I came here on commission of late king Bertram to study dragon lore. But then the whole thing with Xagrax happened. And the new king Hammond put a bounty on anyone who has been working on dragons.

-What happened? I have not been to the outside world for half a centenary.

-Well, how should I put it. King Bertram invited a dragon to his 60th birthday and that dragon, Xagrax, decided to eat him and burn half the capital. Apparently they had a serious disagreement on something.

-Indeed it looks severe. We dragons are not accustomed to eat monarchs.

-Anyway, the villagers kept me in prison hoping for a reward. But then you demanded a human sacrifice...

-I see. Better an outsider than one of their own. Two birds with one stone. They didn't know though. I was testing them. I was gonna give a tenth of my treasure to the Sacrificial lamb and let them go!

-Really my lord?

-Of course not you imbecile. I am pulling your leg. (And he let out a mighty laugh).

-Oh I see (young man was clearly not only disappointed but uneasy too, perhaps in this particular instant the outcome could have been either a treasure or an agonizing death.)

-Don't be so gloomy now. You might just make it. You know why I demanded a human sacrifice?

-I don't know my lord. Maybe eating cows and sheep has become tiresome? Or maybe they did you wrong?

• You are being sarcastic and bitter, young man. You should know better. Is this what you learned about dragons? To hold petty grudge against mortals?

-I apologize. Misfortune seems to follow me everywhere I go. Perhaps the prospect of being killed in this god-forsaken cave made me bitter.

-I once had the pleasure of courtship with a young mage. He died a thousand year ago, not eaten by a dragon I might add. I still miss him sometimes. You see young one. I crave a companion. And humans are in the habit of hating their most intelligent. I was hoping they would send someone interesting. Either way I would eat the boring ones.

(The Young man's body bounced back in shock. The Dragon laughed again and continued!)

-Look at your face. Oh my, I am having fun. Please excuse me for doing this. Jesting is something I missed a lot in solitude. Now, what is your take on Arukamov's Magnus dragonica? Are you familiar with the writing? Or should I eat you and demand another human?

This time they both laughed. And the young man began explaining his opinion on the controversial book. (But that is a story for another day. )

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The world's worst heist, using only words that do not describe themselves

Nebiros looked down at the youth from his lofty heights. Shabbily dressed, lanky, unkempt hair almost reaching his shoulders. He didn't look like much, but perhaps there were hidden qualities to him. Certainly there didn't seem to be much fear in his eyes. Or much of anything else.

"Ah, you must be the sacrifice," Nebiros rumbled. "Are you perhaps the fairest among the villagers, meant to be displayed in my lair? Or their best scholar, meant to discuss philosophy with me?"

The youth scratched his head. "Uh, what?"

"Not the latter, then," the dragon said, sighing. "What kind of a sacrifice are you meant to be, pray tell?"

The youth looked up at him with dull eyes. "Iunno," he mumbled. "You got anything to eat around here?"

"Anything to eat?" The dragon's voice gradually rose into a thundering bellow. "You stand before me and have the gall to give me demands?"

"Well, yeah. Wossmater?" The youth picked his nose, fished out a booger, and looked it over, impressed. "I'm hungry."

In his centuries-long life, Nebiros didn't often find himself speechless, but this was one of those times. He sat back on his haunches and exhaled a puff of smoke. "Do you even realize where you are, boy?" he asked in a defeated tone. "Who I am?"

"Sure. Yer that big bad dragon, right?" The boy nodded sagely. "Everyone knows."

"And yet you're not afraid of me?"

"Not much point, is there?" the boy said, glancing around the gloomy lair before losing interest. "You could probably crush me underfoot if you wished."

"Indeed I could," the dragon said, a little mollified. "What did the villagers even tell you before sending you here?"

The youth's face became animated for the first time. "Oh man, they were all like 'Get off your behind, boy, and be useful for once'." He rolled his eyes. "Parents, man."

"I see," Nebiros grumbled. "Perhaps I shall have words with the village elders about the quality of their sacrifices."

"Whatever. How about some food first?"

You suddenly encounter an Omnipotent being, name is GOGOOG GOGG

Rule: GOGOOG can only speak if the words have G,O, or C in it.

There is an old saying, one that's been spouted off in many different varieties over the decades, but it always reads the same; "mind over matter."

Adolescence is an awkward and inevitable stage in everyone's life. Hormones are flaring, everything is changing, and nothing is certain. In the small town of Flatbrush, Wyoming, the year is 1962, and a young man is about to learn just how much power lies in the mind.

Essokinesis, the ability to manipulate reality. For no reason at all, or perhaps a cruel practical joke played by higher dimensional beings, 16 year old Elmer Flawcett found the ability to just that.

After third period, Elmer was due for his daily swirly. Hiding had gotten him nowhere. Running never worked. Elmer wasn't exactly built for self defense, you see. The one good thing to come of all this muck was Maggie. At first, she'd just taken pity on the boy, but grew to genuinely enjoy his company. The two were practically going steady now.

He'd been talking to Maggie at her locker when Chuck found him. Elmer clutched his books to his chest as the great big ape approached. Today, Elmer decided he'd make a stand, futile or not. "I wish you'd just get off my case." said Elmer before instinctively bracing for impact.

Instead Chuck looked stunned. Like the very idea of leaving Elmer alone was some novel concept that had never occurred to him before. "Huh. Yeah. OK, now that you mention it, that sounds good." He said seriously before walking past both of them.

The two exchanged shocked looks. It was all the could talk about that day. "How did you do that?" She asked repeatedly. Elmer always gave the same answer.

"I have no idea!"

Days went by. Weeks. Elmer and Maggie were shocked. Chuck was acting like a decent human being! Chuck had infiltrated the social circle. Sure, he was being nice now, but Elmer was somewhat surprised his friend could just forget how much of a cretin this guy had been.

A month later you expressed these feelings to Maggie, who was now Chuck's lab partner in fourth period. Instead of agreeing with Elmer as usual, she came to Chuck's defense, called Elmer vindictive for holding a grudge. He could hardly believe it. Their first argument, over Chuck!? But it only got more heated. Eventually, Maggie says "Maybe I'd just rather spend time with Chuck, anyway."

Elmer's heart shattered. Without thinking, he said "I wish you'd just disappear!"

And just like that, Maggie Vanderhogen was no more. There was no blood. No body. Nothing. She blinked out of existence. Elmer sunk to his knees, a face a mask of shock, pain and terror. How was the happening? Why him?

"I wish I never said anything to Chuck that day..." He said quietly.

If you've ever wondered why you can't find Flatbrush on any map, that's because it's a town lost in time, perhaps wished away on a whim by a pissed off teenager.

There's one more saying that applies to this story:

"Be careful what you wish for."

Like the therapist whose client sees dead people?

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So the ai is still a tool of oppression

Sonic.exe For Hire?

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

Reminders:

>* No AI-generated reponses 🤖 >* Stories 100 words+. Poems 30+ but include "[Poem]" >* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail >* [RF] and [SP] for stricter titles >* Be civil in any feedback and follow the rules

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

Reminders:

>* No AI-generated reponses 🤖 >* Stories 100 words+. Poems 30+ but include "[Poem]" >* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail >* [RF] and [SP] 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.

Journal entries of a guy stuck in a spaceship

Rules: The writing, should always portray him at the brink of insanity. And Make it that whenever he gets hope, it gets diminished by anxiety and depression.

PROMPT: Ever since you've been born, you've been followed by thirteen shadows

Rules:

1. You cannot use any synonym for dark or 'dark' itself.
2. 'And' is forbidden.
3. Keep things interesting.

During market day, a wagon's axle breaks and it loses its wheel, setting off a chain of events that culminates in a large scale riot (or at least a pie fight).
 
The challenge: Except for the first sentence and the last sentence, use only spoken dialogue and onomatopoeia (written sound effects).
e.g.:
Rrrrumble...
"Oh heck, get out of the way!"
rumble rumble RUMBLE CRAAASH!! "Mooo-OOO!"

"Day 2,429: Sunny, clear, 76 degrees. I think I'm officially out of options." The hero puts the pencil down and closes her journal as she looks around at the debris scattered around her. She had trained to be the best, sure, but this was just boring. A sigh escapes her lips as she reminisces about her training days, back when there was a challenge. She had poured literal blood, sweat, and tears on the training grounds to be better than the ones who would belittle her and make her feel weak. One by one, she took them all down. Even the masters refused to fight her in the end. It wasn't a problem, though. Plenty of people had underestimated her and more would do so in the future. Plenty of adversaries to prove wrong.

However, she had trained too hard and had left no one to beat her. At first, it had been lone thugs looking for an easy mark. Then street gangs started to notice the new hero taking out their lower ranks and decided to put an end to it. They failed. Larger gangs and mafias started to sweat and they sent their best hitmen to take care of it. Child's play. Years passed and crime rates went down. She was hailed a hero for taking down the biggest criminals and villains in each city she visited. Eventually, national governments started to notice and would send out offers to come to clean up their villains. She accepted, hoping for new challenges. One by one they fell, her reputation only growing better by the day. Her work for governments had made new enemies, though, as local warlords and terrorist groups started pooling their resources. Small armies started greeting her. They proved to be child's play. She had started to set challenges for herself by wearing a blindfold or only using one hand. Sometimes she would only fight in the water against pirates to try to even the odds.

Eventually, however, the fights became few and far between. Most of the criminals and ne'er-do-wells had given up or gone into hiding, their champions beaten or too scared to fight. The terrorist groups and warlords had long abandoned their bases and territories for fear of being the next victims. The world's governments had gleefully recouped the weapons that were left behind, happy to recoup the inventory they had sold to these groups for years. With no truly evil people left to fight, the usually apolitical hero decided that the next best option for a challenge was the corrupt governments that had been happy to employ her for their own gains.

She started with the religious zealots who refused to give their people basic human rights. They went down easily and within a month, the people were forming new governments for themselves. The bigger countries had started to get worried, seeing that the hero once thought their ally was now a possible foe. The bigger countries started to gather their armies and weapons of mass destruction in case they were next. Less than a year passed before most standing armies had been defeated. She had left the largest militaries for last. They had the most corruption but she had wanted to give the little guys a chance first, just in case. They had all been disappointments.

As she walked toward the new mega-base built with the full, joint forces of the world's eight biggest superpowers, hope rose in her chest. Even though it had been years since she had tasted defeat, she knew that this would at least pose some sort of a challenge. Tanks rolled out to meet her and entire field armies filed out and spread across the vast desert that would be their battlefield and her playground. Fighter jets, gunships, and drones flew overhead. Turrets, mortars, and missiles all had her in their sights, locked and loaded. This was it. Her last chance. "Please don't make us do this. The world has seen a peace that could never have existed without our joint efforts," came a booming voice. "It's not too late to turn around and just forget this little campaign of yours!" "You and I both know this has to happen. If you had just taken the hint years ago and straightened yourselves out, this wouldn't be happening," She yelled "But no. You thought you could just keep on being douchebags and doing what's best for you. You brought this on yourself. Let's get it over with." She snarls the last sentence to herself as the first bullet whizzes by her head.

I think most accurate would be something like 'pacifistic ideals' would be better. An ideal is to be strived towards, not adhered to rigidly.

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This is frighteningly realistic, yet I can't help but want to read more. Brilliant work!