Tag Archive | prompter: RCoots


Prompt from here: https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/hopquy/wp_a_recent_scientific_breakthrough_has_led_to/

Content warning: Um.  vague philosophical horror, also discussion of end of life.


The Arenoraan Treatment was supposed to be the best new thing in the world, or rather, it had been  supposed to be the best new thing ten years ago .  Ten years before that, ten years before that – scientists had been inching the lifespan longer a little at a time.

The Arenoraan Treatment, it was supposed to be the best; it was supposed to let people live happily at least to their two-century mark, if not long beyond.  The assumption was, of course, that while people who were now around 135, 140 were enjoying their extended lives, scientists would have time to figure out the next step in immortality.

I was only 90 at the time, but I was looking forward to it.  Only ninety still sounded amazing to me, because at fifty-five, I’d been starting to fall apart.  Now here I was, ninety, and nothing ached and nothing creaked and I was down to one pill a day, and that was a multivitamin supplement. Continue reading

Seventy And Seven

The Man was sulking.

Romana did not find it all that attractive

He was attractive, physically.  He was tall and lean and muscular, with a very firm chin unlike anything elven.  He had very nice skin and lips that looked like they would be very nice smiling and he had beautiful hair that was nearly as long as Romana’s, which was saying something. Continue reading

Hurt/Comfort: Minder

Written to R.Coots’ prompt. Some bodily injury, but no serious violence and no real loss of consent. 


Ravi wasn’t exactly running, but he was hurrying.  He had someplace to be. He really had to get there soon, or he was going to lose yet another blind date to his own stupidi-

The crack in the sidewalk grabbed his foot and sent him sprawling.  Last pair of nice pants – ruined. Palms of his hands – ruined. Face – banged.  Chances at this date – gone.

“Oh, shit.  Look at you.”

He didn’t recognize the voice, but there were hands on him, lifting him up.  “Come on. You’re an absolute mess.”

“Nuala?”  He did recognize the voice.  Blind date #2. He’d spilled sauce on both of them. Continue reading