*turned Out Longer Than Intended, But I Tried*

“What’re you doing here?” I mumble over my shoulder. Although I’m not looking, I know without a doubt who it is.

Ray sighs. “Look, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

“Not worth much,” I say, staring at the picture of my partner, framed and unnatural. She never would have wanted this. Her family didn’t know her anymore, why were they allowed to make these choices?

A groan behind me finally makes me turn. Ray stands there with his arms crossed, full disguise. I stare at him so long - not thinking much of anything, just numb - that I startle when he clears his throat.

“How long are you going to mope like this, Saga?”” He uses my code name, although I’m not dressed in my usual clothes. I didn’t take much care with my disguise today, just throwing on my mask and hood over dark clothes for the funeral.

I look away. “”If you came here to fight, let’s just get it over with. I’m not in the mood today.”

He sighs again. Why does he keep doing that? “I’m not here to fight. I’m here to pay my respects. I know you and Kya were close.”

“It’s my fault,” I whisper, turning back to the picture. She wasn’t just my partner, she was my best friend. I knew she was still a newbie, and I told her to go by herself. I thought she could handle it. 

By the time I got there, it was too late.

“Hey,” Ray says gently, shocking me. “It wasn’t your fault. I was there, remember? No one could have predicted that a normal everyday occurrence would turn so violent.” 

It was true. Ray had been there, for the same reason I was. Our fight had traveled several blocks and we happened to chance upon the scene. My fight with Ray had been forgotten as I rushed to Kya’s aid, and until this moment, I had forgotten he had been there at all.

I start walking toward the door, unable to stay a moment longer. 

Ray follows me. “It’s okay to be sad, Saga.”

I stubbornly ignore him.

He rolls his eyes behind me and I scoff. “You know I can see you. Why do you insist on being rude anyway?”

He grins. “It’s what I do best. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

“Argh!” I whip around to face him, face red with anger. Ray actually takes a step back. “I am not okay! My rookie died because of something I told them to do! My best friend is gone because I wasn’t there for her! And worst of all, she never got the chance to do anything she wanted to do! She was only 19…” My voice trails off with a sob.

Ray opens his mouth, but I cut him off. “No, you know what’s worse? You, coming here, to her funeral to mock me. Follow me, fight me, yell at me to your heart's content, but don’t sit here and mock me by pretending you care about Kya or my feelings!”

“Fine!” he snaps back, finally losing his temper. “I’ll tell you the truth if you want!”

I throw my hands up in frustration. “What I really want is for you to leave me alone, but go ahead!”

Ray’s voice drops back down in volume, slightly lower than his regular speaking tone, his voice shaking slightly with anger. “I’m not pretending anything. I may not have known Kya much at all, but I do know that on the few occasions I saw her, she seemed to be a genuinely good and happy person.”

“Why do you-”

“I’m not finished!” he snaps, before continuing again. “As for you, I do know you. I knew you would blame yourself, I knew you would be upset and sad, I knew that you would be here, and I knew you would stay long after everyone else left. I know you. Your feelings haven’t been a mystery to me for years! 

“The truth is, I know who you are.” He doesn’t meet my eyes as he says it. “Inside, outside, underneath the mask and hood. You aren’t a mystery to me. I honestly thought you would recognize me long before now.”

I stare at him, unable to speak, trying to understand what he is telling me. “You-”

Ray looks up into my eyes, voice soft. “Emma.”

He slowly pulls off the mask, revealing the one face I didn’t expect to see.

The one that equal parts of me hated and loved, unable to decide between desire and defense. Part of me never wanted to see him again, had hoped he died.

Part of me was so relieved that I wanted to cry.

I chose the latter.

your a super Villian/super hero who's partner just died. When the funeral was supposed to be attended, nobody came, except for one person, your arch nemesis, who came there to comfort you through these tough times

He shrugged as much as was possible, what with all the ropes holding him in place against the pole.

"Honestly, I'm good with either one."

The villian stopped her pacing. "Huh?"

He shrugged again. "I dunno, I'm kinda done with all this hero stuff. They ask me to do things that keep me up at night. If I'm dead, they can't make me do stuff anymore!"

She paused, staring at him in fascination. "That is...slightly morbid."

"And," he continued. "Let's be objectively honest. You're a gorgeous person."

The villian couldn't help her blush, though she crossed her arms and turned away to hide it, resuming her pacing.

The hero watched her for a few more minutes before he couldn't stand it anymore.

"Did you...did you really want to kiss me - or kill me - or was that just messing with my head? I can never tell with you."

She ignored him and walked away, out of his sight line. He could hear her rummaging through what he assumed were her possessions. Several minutes later, the villian walked back into view, carrying a backpack that was obviously stuffed.

One eyebrow raised as the hero asked, "Going somewhere?"

She raised her eyebrows right back. "Yeah, to my sister's place. If you don't want to do this little dance anymore, it takes all the fun out of it."

"Now, I didn't say that-"

"So," she interrupted. "Wanna come with me?"

Writing Prompt #2848

"What are you going to do to me?"

"Kiss you. Kill you. I'm not sure yet."

“Whoa!” Johnny shouted, throwing his hands up. “What’s going on here?!”

A tall man stepped out of the crowd with a fierce look on his face. “Do not even think of trying to do anything. You will be taken before the king and given a trial. Come peacefully, or we have been given permission to use any measure of force on you.”

Johnny looked around in bewilderment. “Dude, I’ve been asleep. If all went right, for a thousand years! What is it that you think I’ve done?”

The man sniffed. “Come.” He directed Johnny to stand and he tied him with special enchanted ropes to hold him. 

Johnny fumed for the entire ride to the castle. Once they finally arrived, he was dragged, literally dragged, before the king, who stared down at him disdainfully. 

“What do you have to say for yourself?” the king boomed.

Johnny stared at him confused. “I’m sorry to have to say this again, but what is going on here?!”

The king scoffed. “Don’t play dumb. Just because it’s been a thousand years, doesn't mean we’re ignorant. We know everything that happened between you and Russo. You almost destroyed the world, and I will not let it happen again!”

Johnny’s eyes went wide. “What?”

“Nothing?” the king glared. “You have nothing to say? No false promises? Pleas? Nothing?”

Johnny shook himself out of his shock and poured out the story, but nothing he said made a difference.  Eventually, the king sentenced him to death. With the enchanted ropes still binding him, Johnny was unable to fight.

As he was dragged through the halls, he remembered the last few days before he went to sleep. The memories were so vivid, it was like he was reliving them.

Russo, attacking yet another village, burning it to the ground.

Johnny fighting back, again. 

Their fight had been so big and powerful that it shook the mountains. In the end, Johnny had cast one last spell, thinking he had killed Russo. 

Worn out and exhausted, Johnny had secluded himself and cast a spell to send him into a hibernation of sorts for a thousand years. He was too tired to continue on helping the mortals when he hardly ever even got a thank you.

But while his spell on himself had worked, clearly the one he cast on Russo had not. Russo had still been alive when Johnny sent himself into a protected sleep.

Unable to kill Johnny, Russo left a message for those somewhere down the line to finish the job for him. 

History is written by the victors.

The prophecy foretold that The Great Evil would awaken 1000 years after his original defeat. As it turns out, the people took this very seriously, so when he awakened, he was met with an army of blessed knights, an evil containment system, and two dozen automated holy turrets aimed at him.

She doesn't even bat an eye.

My face must look horrified. "Did you- Did you see anything?"

"Hmm, what? Oh, that. Yes, I saw." She goes back to washing dishes.

I can hardly believe it. "Aren't you shocked? Or, or scared? Or mad?"

She shrugs. "Honey, you've done this before. Now, I won't lie, the first time was a bit of a shock!" She laughs beautifully.

"First time? There have been multiple times you've seen me?!"

"Oh, yes! The first time, I woke up in the middle of the night and you had shifted during a nightmare. I almost screamed, but I didn't want to wake you."

"Aren't you confused though?" My brow furrows.

She shakes her head. "I googled it years ago! And anyway, I know that I love you, no matter what you look like. As long as you do laundry every once in a while and put the plates in the dishwasher, we'll be okay."

She fixes me with a stern look, and I nod quickly. "Deal!"

She resumes washing the dishes, then pauses. "You might still want to be careful of when you're in this...form. The neighbors would probably call the cops on you."

you are a shapeshifting monster who has been blending in with society for years. Today you accidently shifted back in front of your significant other.

My father stares at me. “I…could ask the same thing.”

I wave off my soldiers around the room. “It’s okay. This is my father. Stand down”

He watches as they sheath their weapons, returning to their posts along the walls. His eyes travel the room, taking in all the Fae who are watching the exchange.

I clear my throat. “Attention, please. My receiving hours are over for today. Apologies to those of you who did not get an audience. I will open my courts tomorrow as well to make up for it.”

The throne room empties slowly, mostly without grumbling. A few Fae cast anxious glances at my father, glaringly human in the midst of so much magic.

“I- I-” he stammers. “You are… queen? Of all these…things?”

I gesture for him to sit. “I will explain. But you must listen and not interrupt.”

He nods, and I begin my tale.

“Twenty years ago, I was playing in the front garden on Mama’s birthday. I knew you wished to be alone, even at 4 years old. While you were talking to her grave in the clearing, I was stolen by a group of radicals, traitors to the Fae crown. 

“It was a civil war.

“It was almost two years before the resistance was tamped out and I was rescued by the crown. The previous queen was old. Her husband had died in the war, leaving her running the war with only her 8 year old son to help. 

“About 10 years ago, she crowned him King of the Fae. We struck up a friendship, which turned to courtship. We were joined - married - about five years ago. The old queen died shortly after. 

“So here I am, Queen of the Fae.” I smiled kindly at my father. “If you had come a few days earlier, you could have met my husband. He’s away right now, helping in one of the Eastern provinces.”

My father looks hurt. “They didn’t let you come home?”

I shake my head. “Father, you were so hurt after Mama died. You never really seemed to care much about me. I knew you loved me, but I assumed you would have thought I was dead and left it alone a long time ago. Besides, once I came to live with the old queen and prince, I loved it here. And once we began courting, they made me fully Fae. I can never live normally among humans.”

My father looks away uncomfortably. “I…never meant to make you feel that way.”

My voice is soft. “I know. It’s okay, Father. You’ve found me now! I’m alive. I’m happy. What more could you want? You can go home and live your life.”

My father steps forward. “I want you to come home with me! You can’t truly be happy! Look at this place, these people! They stole you from me. Now I can steal you back.”

I take a step backwards. “I am happy, Father. You are welcome to stay here for as long as you like, although you can’t stay permanently. But I will be staying. These are my people, and if you threaten them, me, or my family, I will not hesitate to take action against you.”

He does not fight me. My father agrees to stay for a little while, wanting to meet my husband. 

Two weeks later, after a few strained dinners between my father and husband, I woke in the middle of the night to see my father standing over our bed with a knife.

He did not leave the palace after all.

His daughter was stolen by the Fae. Two decades of fruitless searching later, his time for vengeance has come. He kicks in the door to the Queen’s throne room as she flies to her feet, grabbing the hilt of her sword before recognition flashes across her face. “Dad… what are you doing here?”

“No, did you say you love me?” she asks slowly, turning to look at her best friend.

He looks anywhere but at her, the wall, the floor, the picture frames, the door. His cheeks are bright red as he says, “I…don’t know what you’re talking about I said ‘What.’” 

She crosses her arms, staring at him until he meets her eyes. “You know what you said. I know what you said. Will you just own up to it?”

He sighs. “It was just…an exaggeration, Camille. I was just poking fun. You look good. Can we go? The movie starts in twenty minutes.”

Camille puts her hands on her hips. “Lukas Emery James. You tell me the truth right now. We have plenty of time.”

Luke bites his lip nervously. “I…have maybe…fallen in love with you.”

She stares at him for a second, not quite believing it. She somehow had almost convinced herself she had misheard him. She shakes her head. “Come on. Luke, we’re…friends!”

He looks away, quietly asking, “Are we?”

Camille shakes her head again. “I…yes! Why? Why do you think you love me?”

Luke laughs a little and meets her eyes. “I don’t think, I know. I know I love you, Camille. You are…everything to me. Everything I have ever dreamed about. You’re always there for me. I’m always there for you. We tell each other everything. If you don’t feel the same way, that’s fine, but it doesn’t change the way I feel about you.”

Now the tables have shifted, and Camille is the one who feels uncomfortable. “Luke…”

Luke turns away. “Let’s go then. The movie starts soon.” He looks back at her with a smirk. “Last chance to change your clothes.”

She smacks him lightly. “Not a chance.”

Camille follows him out to his car and climbs in. The drive is silent for several minutes before she finally says, “Are you upset?”

Luke jumps at the sudden sound. “Of course not! We’re best friends. If that’s all you want to be, that’s okay.” He pauses, his cheeks a bit pink. “Hurts a bit, but whatever.”

Camille winces, running her fingers through her hair absently. “I just…need to think.”

The car falls quiet again. The pair doesn’t talk much as they walk into the theater. 

Halfway through the movie, Camille leans over to Luke, whispering, “I might have feelings for you too.”

He whips his head to look at her, but doesn't say anything. 

She smiles nervously, saying quietly, “Let’s give it a try, Luke.”

Luke can’t stop the grin that takes over his face. The movie is forgotten in the background of the dark theater, as he leans over and kisses her cheek.

Prompt #1133

"Would it kill you to put a little bit more effort into your appearance?"

"Why? So pricks like you will fall in love with me?"

"Already too late..."

"What?"

"What?"

the problem with reading and writing leading to a strong vocabulary is that you tend to know the vibe of words instead of their meanings.

if I used this word in a sentence, would it make sense? absolutely. if you asked me what it meant, could I tell you? absolutely not.

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes. I can go all day."

"No. I can do it myself."

*wince* "Well, not so much."

"What's that supposed to mean? I'm not giving it to you."

*shrug* "Fine." *nods at Character C*

*Character A turns in time to see Character C hit them hit something heavy, knocking them out*

*Character B takes the object from Character A* "Sorry. It's for your own good, you know."

Writing Prompt #2880

"Stop trying to help me. I can do this myself."

"Quite frankly? You can't. You're one mistake from having a nervous breakdown or hurting yourself because you can't think clearly. Now, swallow your pride, and give that to me."

“Today has been pretty good. Not many visitors. I started a new book about-” My voice cuts off abruptly as I stare at her. “You…you just wasted your question. Why would you do that?”

She smiles gently. “I didn’t need it.”

“But…” I am lost. Confused. “Why?”

“Because,” she says, reaching out and putting her hand on my arm. “I thought you could use a friend. So could I. What’s your book about?”

Numbly, I start explaining the intricacies of my book, offering her some refreshments.

And that is how the strangest friendship I’ve ever had began.

You have been a mountaintop prophet for 1,000 years. Each person only gets one question and you’re sure you’ve heard every question that can be asked. Until one day someone uses their one question to ask, “How are you doing?”

The little girl watched as the kind man held her brother. 

A single tear ran down his cheek, and she felt one on her own face.

Even the kind man was crying.

The little girl looked out the window of his shop and surveyed the scene. The blood, the cars, the flashing lights of cop cars, ambulances, and firetrucks alike. 

Behind her, her brother sobbed, “I’m sorry, Ella.”

Ella cried into her hands silently, wishing she could make a sound, touch him. She felt a tug, deep inside her, but she fought it.

A paramedic was tending to her brother, wrapping his wounds and scolding him for putting himself in danger.

“Ella was in trouble,” he said stubbornly.

The kind man held his good hand. “Is the girl going to be okay?”

The paramedic stayed quiet.

Ella ignored the tugging, sobbing silently, screaming into the soundless void.

He spoke again. “Did they catch the man who hit her?”

Ella watched as the paramedic shook his head slowly, and her brother screamed in anger. 

More people came in and out of the shop. Police officers wanting to question her brother and the kind man, medics checking on him, and finally, their parents made it through the backed up traffic and yellow tape, bursting in to hug their son tearfully.

“It wasn’t your fault,” they whispered over and over again.

Ella agreed with them, trying to join their hug.

This time she couldn’t fight the tugging. She was pulled away from her family.

Forever.

Writing Prompt #2822

"Kid, sit down." The man held a hand on the injured teen's shoulder. "You almost died twenty minutes ago. Take a breath."

"But someone has to go out there and save her! It's my fault she—"

"It's nobody's damn fault but the bastard who did this. You're not responsible for everyone else. The sooner you learn that, the better."