[Part 1 of 2]

“Do not harvest, not fit for consumption?”

Erica held her blonde hair up, staring at her marked forehead. How long had humanity hated this mark? Constantly cursing its existence. It was believed to be the mark of the devil, the thing that trapped all of humanity in the ruins that they once called Earth, but it was the opposite of that. It was a marking that saved humanity, well, saved the sinners.

“I can’t believe this. We were wrong about the rapture. That means our ancestors weren’t saved, they were slaughtered. This is incredible. I need to tell everyone.”

Erica knocked a few papers off her desk in her excitement, slamming closed the leather-bound book she had been writing in. She jumped up from her seat, turning around and freezing when she saw a well-dressed lanky man standing in the corner of her room. His blood-red eyes staring at her as he rubbed his pointed tail tip between his fingers.

“How about we keep your little discovery to yourself?”

Erica slowly reached back for her book, holding the heavy object in front of her, hoping that might deter the man from coming any closer. The man smirked, the smirk pushing his pencil-thin moustache towards his nose as he stepped forward, almost gliding with each elegant step.

“Who are you? If you don’t answer I’ll-“

“You’ll what? Whack me with a book? I’m not here to hurt you. If I were, I would have done it when your back was turned. I’m not a fan of a fair fight.”

“You’re the devil.” Erica muttered, as if she had just spoken the first thought that came to her mind.

“Really? Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

There was a tense moment between the pair as the man stood before her. His tanned skin releasing smoke from its pores, as if internally he was on fire. He said nothing, only pointing a clawed finger downward, motioning her to place the book back on the table. Erica hesitated for a moment before setting the book down, losing her only weapon.

“You’re right. I am the devil. Or whatever word you wish to refer to me as. I’m the original sinner, a man or, well, entity that sinned against my kind, being cast into a layered prison that was intended to drive me insane, and it certainly did that for a few thousand years.”

“You said you were a man? Are you human?”

“No, I think I just adopted this form because that’s how you humans kept envisioning me. Well, apart from a few strange humans that drew me in rather unique ways, but that was before your time. I was one of those harvesters, or what your kind refer to as angels.”

“An angel?”

Erica circled the devil, her curiosity setting in. She didn’t see anything angelic about the man or anything even that devilish. Sure, he had a tail, but a mutation from radiation could cause a similar effect. When she made her third rotation of the man, he pressed a finger against her forehead, stopping her from completing a fourth.

“Yes. An angel. I prefer the word harvester. It’s more fitting. My kind grow species, feeding off the good energy they produce.”

“Good energy?” Erica questioned.

“Yes, Here let me explain.” He snapped his fingers, pulling out two puppets. One appeared to be a version of the devil, although it was a little more muscular with a pair of sunglasses on. He gave her a smile, proud of his little creation, only to pout when Erica didn’t show any interest in his craftsmanship.

“Can’t you just tell me?”

“You have the devil performing a puppet show for you and you have the nerve to ask him to give you a boring explanation with just words? No, the puppets stay. Take a seat.”

Erica reluctantly sat, watching as the devil conjured up another puppet. This puppet was of another man made to look far weaker and less important than himself. With the two puppets prepared, he began moving them around, waving them through the air.

Part 2

You implied realism was a criteria and focused almost solely on that, with absolutely no flexibility on your concept of what AI is, or the ability to emulate emotions well enough that they’re indistinguishable from the real thing.

Isn’t the point of this sub to improve writing? Constructive criticism should be a part of that. If you only want praise, I won’t give that. I care so I point out flaws so they can be better. If you get mad over such a minor criticism that really has no weight on the story at large, I feel sorry for you.

Is it not the point of this sub to give writing practice and constructive criticism. I’m confused by all the hate for a flaw I saw at only the very end. The dystopian part is just summarizing what would happen afterwords and not a criticism. There are different levels of dystopians just like I feel like the world is in a Black Mirror episode right now. Could be far worse, but could be much better as well.

Ah thanks.

I will add a short follow up in a few hours.

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As no true AI exists and it may not even be possible in any reasonable time frame, all of them.

If you look up emotions vs logic, you will see the differences. You can’t program an emotion but you can make it seem like it has them. And emotion is not needed for sentience and may not be necessary for sapience. Still stands that a computer can not have emotions especially with any technology we may get even in the near future.

Everyone has broken a law at some point or at least thinks they did. We are just human after all. Not to mention, laws change for both better and worse. Laws aren’t always moral. For example, in the US, it is more illegal to have a few milligrams of crappy, diluted, fiberglass with some drugs than a whole brick if the pure product.

The question is how does it determine what is a crime, can it adapt with the populace, and will it even become harsher. It can also degrade, have false flags, or potentially be infected as society advances.

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OP this feels very personal

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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Why did you do NTR? I'm sorry I can't like your story as it really makes me uncomfortable.

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Use only one vowel, you choose.

The dragon sacrifice was supposed to be Andre. He was large, healthy, strong and as recompense for his sacrifice, he’d mated with every female he desired, impregnating at least five. I’ve never even sniffed a female.

This morning the emergency horn sounded, assembling the whole kingdom. A human envoy had arrived to inspect the “goods”. I knew I was expected to stay at the back of the crowd, but I’ve never been known to follow rules. Fire, they call me, because I blaze my way through life.

I’d merely desired a peek. What did these gods who controlled us all powerful dragons in their palms look like?

Puny.

Hairless.

Tender and skinny. Like a baby deer. Not enough meat to even pad my tummy.

This human wore a thin layer of white fabric that covered most of its body. Glass covered its eyes. It had a thin rectangular metal object in one hand. Teknology. It’s what made them so strong apparently. I bore holes with my eyes into the thin metal, unable to fathom what made it so special. Could it withstand my fire breath?

I couldn’t hear what was being discussed, but I could see that all the dragons a hundred times the size of the puny human were fawning over it. The human circled Andre twice, then stabbed him with a thick transparent tube which turned blood red. Watching him writhe in pain set my blood on fire. I had to do something.

I pushed my way through the crowd. As I launched myself at the human, Elder Green pummeled into me at lightning speed, clawing off a number of my newly grown scales I'd proudly shown off to him mere days before. “What are you doing?” He roared.

I looked up at him in shock. As the youngest prince no one has ever lost their temper with me like that. Elder Green has only ever doted on me.

“Blue blood?” The human noted, tapping on the metal object. “What’s your name?”

From this close I could hear the human's voice. High pitched and nasally, like it had a stuffed nose. Like an obnoxious little fly. Fragile. Insignificant. Dirty as poop.

“His name is Fire.” Imperial Father rushed over. “I apologize for his insolence. He is but a child, only 35 years old, which is equivalent to 12 in human age and maturity.”

Father stepped in between me and the human. I bristled. Why are we hiding? How can we cower under such an insignificant fly?

“We’ll take Fire instead.” The human's fly voice whined.

“Please spare him. He’s only a child. And he is willful and violent and will be more problem to you than he is worth.” Even prostrating, Father towered over the human. Father is proud. I have never seen him bowing to another.

“The decision has been made. Please don’t cause trouble.” The human casually opened up its white outerwear showing that beneath was filled with thin metal. Teknology. A threat.

“I’ll be back for Fire tomorrow at noon. Until then.” The human raised the corner of its lips then entered a metal box which sped away, leaving a cloud of dust, terrified dragons, and bewildered me in its wake.

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I remember a priest talking about how modern “rapture” got it twisted. At the end, Earth and Heaven become one. This means those who disappear are actually the non-believers, as those who do believe would go to heaven, which is now Earth. The modern idea of the rapture, only came about just over a century ago. (I haven’t fact checked the Priest). He also went on about a side tangent about how we would know the Apocalypse was coming, because it has very clear signs.

You do know you’re on a fiction writing prompt Reddit right? Who gives a shit if it could exist or not. It was compelling and I enjoyed it.

[Heaven's Gate](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Heaven%27s_Gate_(religious_group)).?

Teargas is a war crime. Kinda not following the laws ADAM is protecting at all.

Write a story, about a teenager in school who has one of those "Oh my God" funny moments that everyone laughs at in public.

Rules:

1. Main character has to laugh to. It can't be something humiliating like a public wedgie where main character would just feel mortified. Main character has to find some sort of comedy in the embarrassing situation.
2. It has to involve a crowd or at least a few people who see it in the story.
3. Has to happen on campus. Can't deviate to a different setting. (No school field trip stuff, ditching class, after school etc type scenes)
4. Keep it human please (Nothing mystical, mythical, magic etc.)
5. Write from a first person perspective.

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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.