Gartic Phone Prompt

I was a violin prodigy. But to pay my mother’s debts, I was forced to give up everything. That’s when I met the man who would own me: Dante Moretti. He was the king of New York's underworld. The Don of the Moretti family. With a single phone call, fortunes were made. With a single glance, blood was spilled. The world didn't just bend to his will—it broke. And on that day… what he wanted was me. He gave me a five-year contract. A penthouse in a skyscraper overlooking all of New York. More jewels and gowns than I could count. Every night he needed me, I’d put on whatever lacy thing he picked out. We’d have sex. Five years. 999 times. There were moments—his sweat dripping on my forehead, his soft breaths inside me, the way he’d look at me—when I let myself dream he loved me. Then the video dropped. Him. On the street. Kissing another woman. I knew the truth. He was my keeper, not my lover. Everyone laughed. They couldn't wait to see me lose my mind, begging him to keep me. Instead, I turned my back on him. And married another man.

My husband, James Lincoln, disappeared in an accident, and my in-laws wasted no time filing to have him legally declared deceased. At the funeral, a woman, Xena Xander, suddenly showed up with a young boy, both crying hysterically. The boy, Charlie Lincoln, screamed at the top of his lungs, calling my husband “Daddy.” My ten-year-old daughter, Mia Lincoln, charged at him, shouting, “Shut up! That’s my dad!” Pretending to break it up, my in-laws instead shoved Mia to the ground. She collapsed and passed out on the spot. “If you’re looking for someone to blame, blame yourself for not giving us a grandson! This family can’t die out without an heir!” Xena smirked at me with blatant provocation. Behind her, Charlie spat in my direction and sneered, “You’re just a worthless tramp nobody cares about.” I didn’t lose my temper. Instead, I laughed. “If you want the status and the inheritance so badly, you can have them. But don’t come crying to me when you regret it.” Two weeks later, Xena showed up at my doorstep, covered in blood, banging on the door and screaming. And then, I got a phone call that felt like a nightmare come to life. But I couldn’t have cared less. By then, I was already enjoying a peaceful vacation overseas.

The silver blade sliced across my throat, and I collapsed in a spreading pool of blood. I called Ethan ninety-nine times. My brother ignored every single call, but on the ninety-ninth try, he finally picked up. “What now?” Irritation dripped from every word. “Haven’t you caused enough trouble already? I’m in the middle of planning Lyra’s coming-of-age ceremony, and if you don’t show up, I’ll make you regret it.” “Ethan, please—help me—” My voice came out broken and ragged. He hung up. I tried reaching through our blood bond, desperate for him to feel something—anything at all—but he’d severed that connection two years ago. My phone battery was dying, and I watched the last bar flicker before the screen went black. I stopped struggling. The silver blade pierced my heart, and my wolf let out one final whimper before she died with me. Days later, the patrol found a body. The face was destroyed beyond recognition, torn apart and mangled. But Ethan still recognized the scar on the wrist—the one he’d sworn he would never forget.By then, it was too late.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

A rogue and a runt. A born and raised alpha. A boy with a secret. And a man bent on changing fate, no matter who gets harmed. ~ "Have you contacted the council about the rogues?" "Yes and they say that rogues don't band together in mass amounts." "Did you tell them about the lack of scents?" I roll my eyes at his question. "Of course I did." "And?" "And they think there's a witch out there causing havoc for the rogues," I scoff. "They said that only a witch could hide a wolf's scent but I can't seem to think of what witch would be out there doing silly experiments that won't benefit them. They'd be better off working with a pack if they had any interest there at all." "I get where they're coming from but this is mass reports across the country," he says pointing to the map. "I've been on the phone with packs all over the country having the same issues. We seem to have a higher concentration as of late," he furrows his brows. "Other packs have been having decreases of these rogues?" He nods. "This past week alone we've had six sightings and it's only Thursday." I feel tension rise behind my eyes as the realization hit me. "It's Celeste, isn't it. . ." (rewrite of Innocent Little Runt

My breathing was still uneven when Robert’s phone lit up on the nightstand. One new message. "Robert, there’s thunder. I’m scared." —Sarah. The words cut through me like ice water. Robert. My mate. The Alpha of the Ashborn Pack. The man everyone praises as the perfect future king. And me? I’m his Luna. Supposedly the rightful queen at his side. But no matter the circumstance, no matter the weight of his responsibilities, the first person he thinks of is never me. It’s always her. At the banquet, when the elders forced him to make a choice—me, his Luna, or her—the room fell into a suffocating silence. I still remember the way my heart begged him to look at me, just once, just long enough to see what he was about to destroy. But his answer came sharp, quick, without hesitation. "Sarah." One word. One name. And with it, he tore my entire world apart. That was the moment I understood: not every betrayal needs to be shouted or confessed. Sometimes, it’s as simple as the name a man chooses to speak. I loved him. I bled for him. But love means nothing if I’m nothing to him. So if destiny has already been written against me… then I’ll be the one to set it on fire.

When I send the family car to the body shop for maintenance, an employee discovers a cat pregnancy guidebook wedged in the slot between the front passenger seat and the door. The cat's name is Rose. The signature shown on the furparent's slot belongs to my husband. "Christian Johannson, furdad of Rose." I'm stunned, to say the least. We don't keep cats at home. Coincidentally, Christian calls me on the phone. I ask him, "There's a guidebook in the car. When did you keep a cat?" He chuckles lightly in response. "There was a pregnant stray lingering around the company. I found it pitiful, so I brought it to the vet. It had already given birth last month. Now, it and its babies are the apple of the whole company's eye." With a smile, I praise Christian for being a kind-hearted soul. After ending the phone call, however, I begin reading the guidebook meticulously. Rose is apparently a short-haired cat. She's now two years old. As for the cats living in Christian's company, I've seen them in his colleague's social media posts before. All of them are tabby cats. After closing the guidebook, I take down the vet clinic's name. Then, I drive over to that location.

My brother, Theo Sorento, died in a plane crash on his way back home just to celebrate my birthday. They never found his body—only wreckage. Ever since, my parents forced me to kneel in front of his grave every year on my birthday, demanding that I repent for surviving when he didn’t. Then came my eighteenth birthday. I realized someone was following me. Panicked, I sent a few messages asking for help. Just then, Mom called, not to check on me but to lash out. “I know exactly what you're doing. You’re just making up excuses so you don’t have to kneel in front of your brother’s grave! You’re a liar. Why wasn’t it you who died instead of him? You’re a walking curse!” Before my phone was smashed under a boot, the last thing I heard was the cold click of her hanging up. Then, I was cut up into pieces, and what was left of me was tossed across the city. My father, the lead forensic pathologist on my case, didn’t even recognize me. Later, Theo returned alive with his wife, whom he had eloped with eight years ago. When they found out the pile of rotting flesh was me, they all went insane.

On the night before Match Day, it's 2:17 am when I find myself staring at the screenshot on my phone. For a long while, my heart refuses to calm down at all. Ethan Blake: "Let's have a bet, guys. If Leah doesn't get a spot at Redwood General Hospital tomorrow, this will mark the end of our relationship. The starting bet is two thousand dollars. Is anyone following up on this bet?" Already, more than a dozen people have responded to the message with various emojis. Someone even comments, "Count me in!" I feel my nails digging into my palms. "The end of our relationship", he says. To think that Ethan actually used this phrase. We've been dating for four years. This is the very same man who once told me that he wanted to marry me. Is it this easy for him to end a relationship? I take a deep breath and force myself to calm down. There are still other medical interns in the staff room with me. I mustn't lose my composure around them. I know that Ethan is waiting for me to react how I did in the previous times. I'd either spam his phone with missed calls, beg him to delete the message while crying, or apologize to him in an extremely humble manner. But now… Now, I'm really done with this relationship.

In my previous life, my boyfriend's younger sister came to the CT room for a check-up. As always, I asked the routine questions about whether she was pregnant or planning to be within the next six months. After all, CT scans involve radiation. It could harm the fetus. She had confidently said no. However, when I handed her the consent form to sign, her face suddenly changed. She immediately pulled out her phone and called my boyfriend, claiming I was putting on airs and making things difficult for her. Soon after, my boyfriend called me. “Don’t make things difficult with my sister over something so trivial. You’re putting me in the middle. I swear on my life she’s not pregnant!” Trusting him, I skipped the consent form and went ahead with the scan. However, the results clearly showed she was pregnant, and not just newly. His family dragged me into court. I lost everything, buried under debt. In the end, I died from the scorching heat while hauling bricks at a construction site. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the very day his sister came in for her check-up.

wrong turn. I got a wrong turn. I, Alexa Johnson, make another huge mistake in life by believing in someone and giving all my heart to him and then let him crushed my heart and throw it away just like it is not important. I realize that I am too easy to open my heart for someone else without thinking about consequences. I can say I regret making such a decision. I thought my life would be perfect after I failed my first marriage, but I was wrong in everything. Everything I did is wrong. Thinking he is the right man for me and will live with me for the rest of our life just like our vows. everything was fake. I was dumb. Super dumb. Always believe that the fairytale is real. Am I too innocent? or maybe, I was just too dumb. I guess you knew the answer to my question... _________________________ My phone ringing. I quickly pick it up. "Hello, do you get what I want?" I ask as soon as I answer it. "Yes, Mrs, Lanton," He replies. My heart beating super fast right now. I hope the news will be false. "Tell me everything is wrong," "Everything is ... true," I don't know what to say anymore. I am speechless right now. ____________________________________