Glad you found it :)

I rushed through the streets blood trailing behind several places in my body as I cursed the hero for ruining my only suit. I luckily, had an extremely high pain tolerance, you would too if you were constantly beat to a bloody pulp by a hero.

After several minutes of running due to being close I slammed open the doors of the restaurant brushing up my suit as i walked up to the waitress. She stared at me with worry in her eyes as she opened her mouth to say something, but I swiftly interrupted not wanting to waste another second.

"I'm fine!"

I internally winced at how harsh my voice came out before continuing.

"I have a reservation under the name of Hurri"

She nodded still eyeing me with worry before leading me to our table, coincidentally right before we started walking off my date slammed the door open. She was bleeding, not as bad as me, but still bleeding. Yet, she was still gorgeous, in all mind, personality, and beauty. So of course I instantly lit up when I saw her and the waitress led us both to our seats.

"Are.. you okay?! I- I notice you're blee-"

"I'm fine anyway, you uh... want to talk, it's fun to hear more about your opinion on society after all we had to go due to your ma's curfew..."

Ah yes, we were both juvenile delinquents, yet still I somehow was a juvenile delinquent and an extremely powerful person simply wanting to show society how fucked up it is. Which could fall under the category of villain I suppose.

"Oh yes, so as I was saying society is horrible, I've seen so many people shunned and thrown on the- streee..."

The amount of infatuation in her eyes as she listened stopped me short.

"Oh please continue. I love to hear you voice your opinions, it's actually helping me hype myself up for something... and changing my opinions as I look at things from another v-"

She stated embarrased but was cut short whenever she needed to sneeze. Though what didn't come out was snot. No, what came out was fire, pure white fire, fire I'd recognize anywhere.

"Wild...fire..."

I stared at her with recognition in my eyes as she looked at me

"Hurricane...?"

​

We both burst out laughing

That was next level evil.

Seriously? I ship for them. Great story! And I hope for one of them to turn around, joining the opposing forces and allow them to be together :-)

À Deux

He glanced at his watch “only 15 mins late this time” Thane ran his fingers through his hair one last time and entered the heavy wooden doors of Chez Paul.

“Your table is waiting, sir” grinned the maître d’ with a classic bow he led Thane through the dim golden glow wrapped mahogany tables, french perfumes mingling with filet mignon until they reached the back corner.

The candles, a quarter down, flickered on the back wall, not, as he expected, Cerise. His first thought was humor, on a night where he himself had been…indisposed…she too was late. What if she had an alter ego, too? He chuckled aloud at the thought.

“Sir?” Said the maître d'

“Oh yes, thank you. I’ll have the Bordeaux - we both will.” Tonight was THE night. He’s been planning it to perfection for months. Except for the being late part. He had not intended this to be the night his arch enemy, Causerella, would pick for their stand off. But he’d beaten her, literally put his hand into her eye, an action she could not undo since he’d recently discovered her weakness - bug spray with deet. Unknown to her he’d covered his fist in bug spray, the scent of which still lingered softly around him. Her defeat made tonight even more perfect than he’d dreamed.

Cerise arrived, in no less than that stunning black dress with the plunging neckline he loved. She wore the diamond necklace he’d given her for Christmas, his favorite pair of Jimmy Choos and movie star sunglasses. Heads turned as she walked past so he knew it wasn’t only his pants feeling tight.

Thane stood and pulled out her chair, his hand brushing across her shoulder.

“Mmm” she said softly, “what is that scent?”

“A new cologne I wore for you this evening” he cooed

He sat back down and looked across at Cerise, who was still wearing her sunglasses.

“You going to take those off? I’d love to see the candle light mingle with the love lights in your eyes.”

“Oh, these?” Her fingertips grazing the stems, “I had an accident this evening, tripped over my cat again.” She tittered softly, “he’s always in the way.”

It should have given Thane pause at that moment but Cherise was often banged or bruised up, the woman was clumsy, it was a feature not a bug.

They looked over the menu, though both had known before they walked in what they’d order. The sommelier brought the Bordeaux, which Thane approved of before the glasses were filled. Cherise sipped wine, her mind replaying the evening.

“What did you say that scent was? Cologne?” She asked, “it reminds me of the woods…it reminds me of…” she trailed off not letting on what she knew.

She knew Thane planned on proposing tonight, and she knew what that action would cause, and the one after. She knew Thane was actually her arch enemy, Ricochet, who not one hour earlier had punched her in the face. She hadn’t known for long, a week at best, that’s why she’d picked tonight for her attack - if only he hadn’t learned about bug spray with deet she would have been the victorious one this evening. Mais, c’est bien. She was about to land the coup de grâce.

They laughed over the fish, canoodled over the salad, nibbled the cheeses and then came dessert. On the tray was not the Mille-feuille they had requested but a small, blue box. Cerise’s eyes jumped from the box to Thane as though she’d practiced this action a hundred times.

“Cherise,” he began “these last three years have meant so much to me. You are the perfect woman and I’d love for you to do me the honor of becoming MY woman.” He got down on one knee and opened the box. Inside was at least two and a half carats with diamonds all around a platinum band.

She paused, glancing around to make sure everyone was watching from at least the corner of their eyes, and then, in what to Thane felt like slow motion, instead of reaching for the ring, she reached up to her sunglasses unveiling the damage he’d inflicted.

He knew in an instant. His stomach dropped. His Bordeaux felt like it was coming back up mingled with the fish. No “cat based accident” could have left the damage his fist had in her beautiful face. “Causer…” fell out of his mouth as she put the glasses back on, turned on her Jimmy Choo and walked out, leaving him agape with everyone in the restaurant staring.

She’d play that action over and over, watching him suffer more deeply than any smashed face. Perhaps he could bounce back off surfaces but - she suspected - he would never bounce back from this.

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Yup!

You're a mirror, aren't you?

Every morning I'm met with her gaze, her grey glacier eyes pierce through me. What is she thinking about when she sees me?

I look closely, and try to observe her facial expressions.

Celeste has smiled with me, cried with me and has even yelled at me a few times. But no matter what, I am here for her whenever she needs me.

Every morning, every night.

Tonight her eyes were puffed and watery, my poor girl. Grabbing a face cloth she wiped off her dripping mascara tears, only to cry some more.

"I hate you" She cries out to me, covering her eyes as she does so. She cannot even bring herself to look at me. It hurts, because when

I look at her, all I see is an angelic beauty, with the most perfect brunette locks and siren blue eyes. I just want her to see what I see,

but I don't think that she does.

A projection, in her reflection, there's so little I can do about it. I can only show her honest beauty, but it is up to her whether

she wants to see it or not.

I double checked my everything. My suit, my hair, my breath. I hadn't had a date in so long since my high-school girlfriend decided to cheat on me with multiple guys. I threw myself into my mom and dads pizzeria. Eventually they died in a car accident and I inherited everything. All was going well until I was taking out the trash and I saw her.

She was absolutely beautiful. Her hair, her face, her blood. Wait what? I looked at her again and saw a bullet hole in her side. I instantly ran to her and offered to call an ambulance.

Through gritted teeth she said no hospital and no police. They would be looking for her. So I took it upon myself to help he as best I could.

After managing to extracte the bullet, we just sat and talked for hours. She was impressed with the fact that I was just 25 years old but managing my own business. When I asked about her occupation, she straight up admitted that she was the head of our local mafia family, the Ricci family. All good things must come to an end unfortunately. She needed to get back to her family and I needed to finish cleaning up. I walked her out to the door where she surprised me with a kiss to the cheek. I like to think I surprised her back when I asked her for a date but her smile said she was expecting me to.

The clock on the wall chimed 8 times. Time to meet up with her. I rather quickly say a prayer for everything to go right. As soon as I open the door she was standing right there. Long black dress, hair perfectly styled, very little makeup. One look and she was not crime boss Sofia Ricci, but a beautiful woman ready for a date with the luckiest man in the world.

When the entity gave me the choice, it couldn’t have foreseen how far I was prepared to take it.

Older than time itself, yet that faceless void with that outstretched claw couldn’t have known what was about to happen.

Even now, it never speaks, and we’ve done this so many times that the fabric of my sanity is no longer recognizable. Who was I? It no longer matters.

I smile. Or maybe I did smile, or will smile - I never remember.

Reaching for the coin, glancing up into what was once so ominous, I started to pause. Did I speak? Do we both just know? It never lasts long enough to fully form the memory.

The coin lands on heads.

“Just after I decided to flip the coin.”

The figure begins to shriek, but I never hear what happens next.

I am eternal, and Death is my slave.

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Okay. Either way, I hope to read a good story from this prompt :-)

Honestly didn’t know that was a subreddit. But no that wasn’t my intention

You're sure this is supposed to be here? It sounds more like r/DirtyWritingPrompts tbh

"Man, taking out the garbage is always a big hassle," I say. "There's always so much to carry out."

"I totally get that," Monica replies. "Getting rid of all the useless, good for nothing trash always takes a lot out of me."

"I wouldn't have expected a crime boss to have to move a lot of trash."

"Oh you mean actual trash!" She replies, chuckling. "No, when I say trash I mean folks who are on our bad side. People who borrowed money and never paid it back, rivals trying to push into our terf, rats who squeal to the cops, that sort of thing."

"Oh," I say, wide eyed. "That does sound like a lot."

"Eh, what are you gonna do?" She asks. "All part of the game. But hey, I'm not about to let work talk spoil our date. How have you been? Your landlord still giving you grief?"

"Uh, no, actually, he hasn't." I tell her. "He actually calmed down a lot recently, he even said he wasn't going to raise my rent..."

The realization suddenly hits me.

"Wait a minute..."

"Hm?"

"Did you do something to my landlord?" I ask. "Did you threaten him?"

"What? Me?" she says, clutching her chest. "You really think I would go to all the trouble of having my boys rough up your landlord just because he was giving my sweet pea a hard time?"

"Well, I guess-"

"Because that is exactly what I did."

"Monica!"

"Hey, he was being a total asshole," She replies. "And I'm not about to let someone talk to my shmoopie like that."

I cant exactly think of anything to say. On the one hand, she had just threatened my landlord with bodily harm, all for my sake...Though on the other hand, my landlord was a bit of a dick...

"I guess..."

"Come on, shmoopie, out with it..."

"I guess not paying more in rent wont...kill me."

"There he is," Monica replies, smiling. "Atta boy. You just keep giving me all the pizza I want and we'll be just fine."

"I hope you don't think you'll be getting free food just because you're dating the chef."

"Wha!" She exclaims with a smile. "After all that I don't even get free pies?"

"Okay, fine, you can have some for free," I reply with a smirk. "Just make sure to tip."

Yes this is a cliché self-indulgent/self-insert fantasy. Don’t judge me

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

Reminders:

>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include "[Poem]" >* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail >* See Reality Fiction and Simple Prompts 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:

>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include "[Poem]" >* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail >* See Reality Fiction and Simple Prompts for stricter titles >* Be civil in any feedback and follow the rules

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Frank walks into the room like he does every morning, and like every morning, he walks right by me. Not a word. Not even a glance.
It's frustrating.
We're coming up on our one year anniversary since I moved in. Back then, things were great. We used to spend time together all the time. It was challenging every now and then, but we both felt great. I used to take his breath away.

But now, it's like I'm not even there. The only acknowledgement I ever get from him is when he makes me dry his laundry. I'm sick of it. That's not what I'm here for, but it's not like I can say anything.

I overhear his conversations when he's on the phone with his mom. She tells him that he needs me, and that he should pay more attention to me, and he always tells her he will. But ultimately, he doesn't.

I used to worry that he was seeing someone else when he was out, but I don't think that's true judging by how much he let himself go and gained a bunch of weight over the past few months. I know I could help him out though if he would just let me. Sometimes I wish he would just fucking ride me like he used to, but I'm starting to wonder if his heart could even take it now. I don't even know if I'd be able to handle it anymore.

I feel like I'm just a waste of space. I'd move if I could, but I don't even know how I would begin to do that, considering how stationary I am. I know there are others like me, but it still doesn't help. I guess that's just the life of a long-forgotten >!exercise bike.!<

I like this nice writting.

“On its edge”

Death rolls his non existent eyes, but you can feel the waves of sarcastic disdain emanating, “Really?” As he flips the coin.

It lands on the onyx slab and comes to a stop, resting firmly on its side.

“Okay, okay, what thrice damned age THIS time?”

The displeasure in the usual question is palpable and for a moment, forgetting you are already dead, you struggle to breathe the heavy air.

“Ah. Temper tantrum? Won’t do any good, it’s your rule and the slab assures magic can’t affect the flip. Hmmm. 25 has been my standard…know what?! Make it 21 this time!”

Death sighs heavily, called out on his behavior, “Very well then, but one thing, before I do, you HAVE to tell me how you do it!”

You chuckle, “I have to tell you no such thing and you know it. We’ve been through this, but I do begin to tire of the game, so I suppose it’s time you know.

Way back in my first life, I was a lonely child, a traveling stranger gave me a coin, taking pity on me.

I’m sure it was intended to buy myself food. But…it was far too valuable. It was the first kindness I’d ever experienced.

I kept that coin…

In fact…”

You dig in your pocket, producing the coin.

“Still have it.

But you hold onto something so long, it’s just natural to learn every detail of it.

So, the very first time you handed me YOUR coin, I knew!

Straight away. They’re identical. I don’t just mean alike.

I don’t know how it’s possible, but they’re literally the same coin.

So, however I have this one facing in my pocket, yours will land exactly the same.

I took a chance that first time. I wasn’t sure. But now? I’ve known for over a thousand years.”

Death is silent. For a long moment, I wonder if he’ll keep his end of the bargain.

“Your coin? May I touch it? Just touch.”

Shrugging, I nod.

Death reaches out his hand and gingerly extends one bony finger, giving the coin the slightest of taps.

Time stops.

A deep and sonorous laugh echoes from Death’s empty chest.

“Ah old friend. You and your games. Good one. Good one indeed.”

Your memory is returning. Yes, you are another immortal. You bet Death that you could fool him and remain undetected. The bet was for how long. Death had wagered he’d be able to tell at the end of the first mortal lifespan.

The coin? Magic, yes, of course. But keeping it? It had never occurred to either of them that would happen, what with his memory locked and all.

Laughing together now, “now remind me old friend, what is it you owe me this time?”

I would like more of this please holds up bowl like I'm Oliver Twist

'Did she just...kiss him?' He wondered, still unable to process what was currently happening at the moment. All this time he thought she was simply , like most bosses, bigoted, hot headed, arrogant,snobby, and racially bigoted woman who looked down on him due his economic status, employer status, and.... ethncity....or at least he thought!but she is actually kissing him..... on the lips!...she had a boyfriend, or at least assumed was her boyfriend....who was always making her laugh in her glass office.... pats here and there on the shoulder and arms.this wasn't making sense.

What did it all mean when she would berate him, coldly dismiss his pleas when he tried to let him explain to her on how some projects, or assignments, or business trips that went south, were not even his fault, and that denise was being too stuborn to even do the work, forcing him to finish a specific type of job he didnt know how to do, and yet somehow get away with it scot free! at one time even attempted to casually guess what his ethnicity was, on a remark about how he should be familair with making food for her bosses mexican styled party.....she was obviously wrong. He hated her, with all his guts, yet, unexpectedly, that seems to be changing.

"I'm sorry!" she stammered, like a solider admitting to thier commanding officer on how out line they were. Octavio's mind, despite all the reasons why he should'nt do what he was about to do, such as, she's his boss, she's his boss......and...she's his boss!...., blurted out, "how dare you??...Do it again..", * "what?"*, "do it again!...please!" He pleaded. He never even had an attraction for her in the first place, he wasn't even her assistant, just some guy who works around the corner of her office floor who was trying to turn in some papers, they forgot to account for in an earlier business meeting! Yet, after the first and currently second kiss they're sharing....things have turned interesting, in a neutral way of course, but not a very good one.

Is that why she recently added those curtains in her office? When did she have these feelings? He wasn't even tall, and at best was at least a 6,Why is he thinking of all of this? He thought.

"I don't have anything to say" she says nonchalantly, like a child who knew they were getting the dollar they're owed by thier friend the next day. He said nothing in return, just blankly staring. What could he say? "How?". She knew what he meant. But what could she say? She just fell for him 20 seconds ago, right before kissing him. "I don't know, things just happen. Now, I've set a dinner reservation at the Caracalla, be there by 7. You're dismissed."

Well, a lot of these examples run into a problem - the Queen has a violent reputation, yes, but why? Is the violence that is reputed to belong to the Queen actually Calidan's?

Consider the scenario where the Queen's new maid messes up in some minor way. The poor girl is terrified. Everyone knows what will happen to her! The Queen tries to calm the girl, but she can't have her servants messing up. So she tells Calidan to make sure that the girl gets a proper retirement package; fearing the possibility that the girl might be the sole income earner for her family, she also tells Calidan to take care of said family.

Calidan, somewhat shocked at the extent of the Queen's brutality, kills the maid and her family.

Then you get a world where everyone knows her as a violent tyrant... where she might very well not be one at all.