and i can't wait for the day you see how much you mean to me

til then i'll just keep on livin' in somebody else's dream. 

An Elvis impersonator plays so well that people think the real Elvis has come back to life. Now the impersonator is the leader of a superstitious Elvis cult.

As the greatest righteous swordsman, leader and Grand General for the HuoXue army and rumoured official most-beloved by the people, you could imagine my surprise as I stood on my knees, run to exhaustion in a snowy wasteland, a sword at my throat, surrounded by black-robed assailants.

How had it come to this?

I grit my teeth wondering if there had been any way I could have avoided this, if there were any ways yet to escape. It weighed heavy upon my mind knowing the only way to survive would be an underhanded one. 

Yes, I had noticed the slightest of openings under the arm of the one who had their blade centimetres away from piercing my neck. But it would do me no good. How could I force my blade upon this weak-spot in such ill-faith? Was I to become just as morally bankrupt as those who attacked me in this  moment? I refused. How could I ever return with such knowledge? It would all be for naught. My fingers stood chilled and stiff upon my hilt, torn in their decision. 

Thwack!

And it was too late. Lifeless fingers fell limply from the leather casing. The moment seemed to last forever as the assailants chattered between themselves, the sound slowly fading as scarlet seeped, dying pure white in brilliant fashion. It was all over. Silence rolled over everything like a heavy paintbrush, covering up the blemishes of the past. Yes, it was all over.

Or at least, it should have been. 

But unbeknownst to all those involved, back in the Capital City, in a shadowy basement hung-over thick with perfumed smoke, something was brewing. Something sinister.

Within days, red eyes -- eyes that should have remained closed forever -- shot open. 

With that, the scheme had begun rolling forward at alarming speed, and there was no longer anything that could stop it. The future of this world would be irreversibly altered, and history would forever wonder about the truth of it.

~~~~~~~~~~

Criticism would be greatly appreciated!

Personally I feel like the reasoning/psychology of the perspective character is really weak, so if you have any suggestions for tweaking it that would be great. The whole premise is honestly sorta shaky for me, so you could even rewrite this, if you feel you could do it better; good luck! :) 

Also I've got bits and pieces of a backstory/inspiration, so if you are planning to rewrite and want any of that, just ask. 

First line: I was born a woman in an ocean of men

So basically there is the Amazons and there is also another tribe/group made of men. They both know each other exist, but they don't ever interact with each other, one way or the other. The group of men reads a prophecy that they need to have a kid to save them/the world or something. They think the kid is going to be a boy, but it is a girl, so they are very confused as to what to do. She grows up there, but as she gets older she realizes she doesn't really fit into either group. Then some big thing happens that's gonna destroy both groups/the world and she has to unite them together so together they can save themselves/the world. 

This prompt was part of a story in my imagination. If you use it, feel free to change the names, places, or any other tweaks you want.

Io remembered what most people did not. She remembered her past life. She died and was reborn in a world of magic. She was now an orphan whose only friend was a white cat. The cat had been her pet cat in her past life.

Right now, she was hiding from the orphanage workers. She had run away again. They had check the spot where they first found her. Sitting atop the wall, eating an apple. she had been wearing her hat and coat. Thinking back, she missed the times when she would sit on that wall, eat an apple, then jump off. It made her a little sad.

Suddenly, a worker grabbed her. She shrieked. After struggling for a bit, she was carried back to the orphanage. She watched her cat run past her. this life was nice. Running, hiding, being caught. It was all exciting. No one else saw it that way. Even the most mischivous orphans thought it was too evil. Well, she would do exactly what she wanted. No one would tell her what to do.

My scalp tingles -- cold crawling down my neck, into my spine -- chilling me to the core. I let the laugh that threatened to shred my lungs if gone unsung drip into icicles, sharpened and pointed towards each target.

Each person.

They're all here to capture me? To kill me? Me?

Hah.

Oh, are they in for a treat. And a world of hurt.

The growing spires of ice snag something soft and warm deep within me. It slices; the tearing really should hurt, but the cold running over my skin, through my muscles, coursing in my blood, makes it hard to focus on anything other than my fury. My mind buzzes and the frost surges at the bottom of my stomach.

The Etesian Empire had neither spies nor assassins stationed at the Ice Palace the next morning. The only evidence that anything had happened at all was some red, already buried under a fresh layer of snow.

~~~~~

Sorry, I seem to have come down with a flare for the dramatic~    :P 

Also, feel free to propose further world-building if this is an inspiration!

I submit for your consideration:

What if the world was ending and there was a couple who never got together because both were always playing hard to get, but then realising their imminent doom they finally get together for their last day alive.

Plot twist, the world did not end the next day.

Lol it's supposed to be very satirical, so please imagine everything as super snarky and intentionally melodramatic, with sorta Much Ado About Nothing vibes, but modern.

Question: If I took one of these prompts and wrote a book about it... would that be okay? I mean, I know what the thread is for but if I got the book published...