She Doesn't Even Bat An Eye.

“Hey!” I cry out in shock. Jason obviously can’t hear me, up on the platform through the screaming crowds, as he kisses Ella soundly on the lips.

When they pull apart, Ella’s face is red. They turn to the crowd and bow proudly.

I am in shock. There are tears pouring down my face, but I can’t feel them. I stare numbly at the stage. I pinch my arm to make sure I’m awake. 

It’s not a nightmare. It’s real.

The tall guy next to me looks over and frowns. He shouts over the noise, “Hey man, are you okay?”

I can only shake my head, eyes locked on the stage where Jason and Ella are holding hands and staring at each other as they answer questions from the reporters.

The man takes my arm, leading me onto a side street a few blocks away, where the noise is significantly reduced. 

“What happened?” he asks, offering me a bottle of water. 

“Tha-that’s my girlfriend,” I say shakily. 

His eyes go wide. 

“And,” I continue, gulping the water. “My best friend Jason. We’ve known each other since we were six! And Ella…”

I can feel the tears now, hot tears falling down my face as I start to sob. 

The man sighs deeply. “I’m sorry, man. That’s rough. I’m George, by the way.”

He offers his hand to shake, and I accept it with a shaky laugh. 

“Dylan.”

I wipe my eyes roughly, trying to stop the tears. Now that I’m a bit less shocked, I’m angry. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” George asks carefully. 

My hands clench into fists. “We’ve been dating for three years! I was going to…”

My voice trails off and I reach into my pocket, pulling out the small box. I thrust it at George angrily, putting my head in my hands. 

George doesn’t have to open it to know that the box contains a ring.

“I was going to ask tonight,” I whisper. 

He tries to hand the box back. “Call her. Or him. Maybe it’s a misunderstanding?”

I know deep down that he’s wrong, but I can’t ignore the brief hope that flares up in my chest at the possibility. 

I fumble my phone out of my pocket and desperately press Ella’s name, putting it on speaker. 

George and I listen to it ring several times before she picks up.

“Hey, baby!” Her voice is breathless. “I’m kinda busy, can I call you back?”

I close my eyes, hearing the crowd in the background. “Where are you, Ella? I was going to surprise you at work.”

This was true. That had been my pan before the whole fiasco happened and the streets were blocked.

“Oh, you know,” she says. “Just…in the back, working on something.”

“Sweetheart,” I say quietly. “Have you seen or talked to Jason today? He was supposed to meet me for lunch, but he never showed up.”

“Jason?” Ella’s voice jumps up an almost imperceptible note. “No, I haven’t seen Jason today! Listen, I’ll call you back in a few hours, baby. I’m really busy right now, you can stop by then, okay?”

George shakes his head slowly, eyes angry for me, a bit sad.

I can’t stop the tremble in my voice as I say, “Never mind, Ella. I saw you. It’s over between us. You can tell Jason the same thing from me. I don’t ever want to talk to you ever again.”

I stare at the phone in front of me as Ella gasps and sputters, protesting. I can’t bring myself to hang up.

So George leans over and does it for me, turning my phone off and handing it back to me.

“I, uh, left my bag back there,” I mumble, pointing back to where we had come from, where the crowds were still screaming. 

George nods. “Look, I gotta get back to work, but I put my number in your phone. If you wanna catch up later, talk, get coffee, whatever, just text me.”

I nod, with a small smile. “Thanks, man.”

I push my way back through the crowds, miraculously finding my things right where I had left them. Ella and Jason are still on the platform, though now they look considerably less happy.

But their hands are still tangled together between them. 

Ella scans the crowd. Eventually, her eyes find mine. She nudges Jason and they both lock eyes with me, clearly pleading with me to talk to them.

I find it funny that in doing this, they ignore the reporter currently talking to them. He looks confused, trying to see who they are looking at.

I shake my head and turn around, pushing my way out of the crowd.

I hope my disgust was clear on my face.

You squealed as the heroes unmasked and kissed in front of the roaring crowds. Wait…you recognize their faces…that’s YOUR best friend and YOUR girlfriend/boyfriend.

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."

The first few days after the wedding were the most…interesting. My Our people were picking themselves up after a long war. They didn’t know how this was supposed to work. How to bow to the person who had been responsible for the damage, the casualties.

Inside the castle, things were just as confusing. My Our servants tiptoed around the castle, scared to death of my new wife, unsure of how she would act as mistress of the castle and queen of the land. 

I did not regret my decision, not then, not now. The adjustment just took some time. The wedding in particular was…memorable. Allowing the woman responsible for so many deaths into my the church, standing by her side, taking the vows only broken in death, was a surreal experience. Letting her into my our bed that night was even harder. She had given the order that led to my own father and brother dying, not to mention some of my cousins and best friends. 

After a few months, we slowly grew to know each other better. 

Years passed. We forgave each other, for I had caused almost as much damage to her people as she had to mine. Although nothing could undo the damage, we slowly built a trust and friendship with each other. At the same time, my our people learned to trust and respect her, and her our people did the same for me. 

It was not a conscious change.

It was slow and tedious.

It took care and intention.

One day, I looked at her.

My wife, my queen, my partner, my best friend. The woman who had started a war that took the lives of my family and friends, my our people. And I realized…I loved her. 

What had started in an effort to simply end the war between our people, led to a marriage of convenience, ended in a marriage of love. 

My dear Helena, while I did not love you at first, I love you now. I love you still. Forever and always, my wife, queen of OUR people.

From the diary of King Carlos Rolfson, 3173 A.D., shortly after the death of his wife, Queen Helena Rolfson (3096 A.D.-3173 A.D.), married 56 years

You were a beloved ruler of your country. When the evil king/ queen tried to conquer your country, you fought to the death to protect your country. Seeing how much your people loved you, the evil king/ queen proposes that you two marry to merge your countries. You accept for your country's sake.

BTW i see these posts all the time like "ohhh i dont know what to comment on fics.." and every response is "keysmashes! or hearts!! anything works :3" and thats GREAT!! thats helpful!!

but: consider. if u genuinely like analyzing writing.. do u know ur just allowed to go through and quote your favorite parts and ramble abt what they mean to u and the author will LOSE IT WITH HYPE?

genuinely. i felt SO WEIRD the first time i did it.. but like. holy shit authors love it. its crack for authors. the first time i did it, it was on a fic that hadnt updated in half a year, give or take, and the author made 3 updates that month BECAUSE OF MY COMMENT.

LIKE. as an author every comment is INCREDIBLE!!! but also, dont feel like your comment has to be short or otherwise ur invasive or smth!! authors ADORE long comments more than ANYTHING.

Keira frowned. "Has anyone seen Cooper?"

The rest of the group looked around and shook their heads.

Callie spoke up. "Last I saw, he was right behind us."

Keira turned and looked down the tunnel where they had come from. The group was quiet for a minute. They couldn't go back. They didn't have time.

Finally, Keira made a decision. "Go on without me. I'll find him and wait here for you to come back."

"But-," John tried to argue, but Keira just shook her head.

"He could be hurt. What if he got hit in the crossfire when we busted in here? I know he said he was fine, but what if he's not? By the time we come back this way, he could be..." Keira didn't finish the sentence. She shook her head. "I'm going back."

She handed off her extra supplies and hurried back down the tunnel. She didn't dare call out for Cooper, just in case there was still and enemy lurking in the shadows.

It took her almost ten minutes before she stumbled over Cooper, sitting in the middle of the tunnel.

He looked up groggily. "Hi."

Keira knelt in front of him. "What happened? You were behind us, and then you weren't!"

Cooper looked around. "I sat down."

Keira grabbed his shoulders, looking over him quickly. His eyes were glassy and vacant, skin pale. She started tugging his jacket open, searching for a wound.

His shirt underneath was soaked with blood, and Keira winced when she saw it. As she pulled it away from his skin, inspecting his torso, he suddenly slumped forward.

Keira grunted in surprise, laying him down. This wasn't good. She worked feverishly over him for a full half hour, trying to staunch the blood flow from the gunshot wound in his side.

By the time the rest of the group came back through the tunnel, it was too late.

There’s something about a whumpee just sitting down. Not fainting, necessarily. Maybe they’re just about to faint, and they quietly just kneel on the ground at a time and place that doesn’t make sense. They don’t even have the capacity or willingness to articulate why they need to abruptly stop and sit. Maybe they’re catatonic while the others look at them.

Maybe a caretaker can see the dull, vacant look in their eyes and immediately senses that something is seriously wrong. Maybe the fainting comes just a few moments later.

“How did you do that?!” I shriek.

The Knight is staring at her sword in surprise and shock. She looks up with wide eyes. 

“I don’t know!” she cries out. 

I hesitantly raise the gun again and pause. “Can you…do it again?” I ask curiously.

She shrugs, equally curious. “Try it.”

I fire…and she manages to parry it again.

The gun drops to my side in shock, and she drops her sword like it’s on fire. She stares at it in horror.

“It must be cursed!” she yelps, backing away from her sword.

I roll my eyes. “Really?”

The Knight trembles with fear. “I traded for it a few weeks ago. Traveling trader. She said it was special, but I thought she just meant that it was forged well! This is my first time actually fighting with it!”

I stare at her. “Wait, wait, wait. You’re telling me that you brought a sword to a gun battle…and you hadn’t even used it yet?! What kind of Knight are you?!”

She shrugs sheepishly. “A not very experienced one?”

“Parry this you filthy casual.” You pull the trigger… and begin to panic as the Knight ACTUALLY parries the bullet.

Jane sighed. “Fine.”

Andy frowned. “Huh. I thought you would put up more of a fight.”

“Well,” she shrugged. “I know you. For you, that was as close to an apology as you’ll probably ever get.”

He nodded. She wasn’t wrong.

“And,” she added, throwing him a small smile. “I forgive you.”

Writing Prompt #2862

"Don't you have something to say?"

"Well, I don't like to apologize, so no, not really. I feel like we can comfortably just move forward from here."

Sylvie looked away. "Can we not talk about this?"

Brady shook his head. "No. I want to know the truth. I am an awful person! I'm not proud of it, but at least I know that. Why do you keep me around?"

"Please," Sylvie begged. "I don't want to talk about this. You're a good person. Let's talk about that fire you helped put out last week, or the person you saved from the kidnapping three days ago. Or hey, we can talk about how you aren't too proud and boastful!"

Brady frowned. "Sylvie, I'm not a good person. I started the fire on accident, the person still got hurt, and I literally brag any chance I get. Why the hell haven't you kicked me to the curb yet?!"

Sylvie shook her head quickly. "No. Not happening. I'm not talking about this."

She started to walk away, but Brady reached out and grabbed her arm.

"You can't even tell me why I don't suck!" Brady's voice was rising, ignoring the pleading look Sylvie was sending him. "I'm going to leave before I actually hurt someone, and you can't say anything to make me stay!"

He finally dropped her arm and started to turn away, leaving Sylvie standing there.

Brady was halfway to the door when her voice stopped him.

"You want to know why I keep you around?"

He nodded without speaking, without turning around.

"Because I love you."

Writing Prompt #2884

"You know what? I fucking suck! Like, how the hell do you even put up with me?"

"Hey, don't say that about—"

"Why not? It's true. I know don't have enough redeeming qualities to keep around."

The princess smiled at him happily from across the battlefield as she rode away. 

Edmund smiled back and waved. The minute she was out of sight, his hand dropped and he ran it through his hair nervously as he returned to work, carting away the bodies of the enemy and friends alike. It was hard, emotional work, and thankfully, it took his mind off of the explanation he would have to give his family in a few short hours.

Finally, he was able to go home. As soon as Edmund walked in the door, he was bombarded with hugs from all six of his little siblings. They were all between the ages of 2 and 10, and the smaller ones tried climbing him like monkeys. Edmund laughed as he hugged them all, then his parents and grandparents who all lived with them in the four bedroom house. 

After Edmund finally got the little ones calmed down and regaled them with some of the tamer stories he had, he looked at his mother. 

Reading his mind, she started corralling the kids. “Come on, everyone,” she called. “Bedtime!” She ignored the groans and moans that came as she whisked them into their bedroom.

Edmund shifted awkwardly in his chair as he waited for her to come back. When she did, taking a seat beside his father, Edmund took a deep breath.

“I have some news to share,” he began. “I am…engaged.”

His grandmother hooted with joy. “Ha! Finally!”

“Really, Mabel,” Edmund’s mother said reproachfully. “Let the boy speak.”

His father turned to him. “Do we know the girl?”

Edmund wouldn’t meet any of their eyes as he mumbled, “Sort of.”

His grandfather crossed his arms. “It’s not that Katrina, is it? You do know she’s a bit strange. I don’t think you should marry her. Can you call it off?”

Edmund sighed and rubbed his forehead. “It’s not Katrina. And that’s not very nice, Grandfather.”

“Hmph!” his grandfather pouted. “Well, then, who is it?”

“Itstheoldestprincessprincessisolde!” Edmund said, all in a rush.

His grandmother put a hand to her ear. “Eh?”

Edmund took a deep breath. “It’s Princess Isolde.”

“What?!” came a shriek from behind them. Everyone whipped around, only to find seven-year-old Avalie peeking around the corner and eavesdropping. 

She started bouncing on her toes with excitement. “You’re gonna marry Princess Isolde?! She’s my favorite!”

Edmund’s mother put her hands on her hips. “Young lady, you are not supposed to be up. You weren’t supposed to hear that.”

Edmund sighed. “She might as well stay now.”

Avalie ran over and jumped on his lap. “You’re my favorite! How did it happen?!” she asked eagerly.

He couldn’t help grinning at her. “Well, last year, remember when I was gone for so long? I was one of her personal guards. A few days ago, we ended up near each other again, out on the battlefield. I thought…” he let his voice trail off, remembering he was talking to a seven year old. The adults in the room knew what he meant, so he continued his story. “I knew I loved her, and I was pretty sure she loved me too. We grew close last year. I asked her to marry me, and she said yes. And…here we are.”

“Are you gonna go live in the palace?!” Avalie shrieked, ignoring when five adults shushed her. “That’s so exciting!”

Edmund laughed. “Yes, I suppose it is. I believe she said she would send word in a few days. I’m…not too sure what to do next. We did just get out of a war.”

Avalie clutched him tightly. “Can I come with you?” 

He laughed again. “Fine by me! You’ll have to ask Isolde though.”

Avalie’s eyes went wide.

She, Avalie, was going to meet a princess! And not just any princess. Her very favorite one!

And Princess Isolde was going to marry her own brother!

That would make them sisters!!!

The rest of the adults were not as excited as Avalie, to say the least. The minute she was shooed off to bed for a second time, the questions resumed.

“How?”

“Why would you do such a thing?”

“What in the world possessed you?”

“Her?”

“She’s the heir to the throne! What does that make you?”

“Why would she even say yes?”

Edmund glared at his grandmother, who had asked that particular question. “Gee, thanks.”

She shrugged. “Don’t mention it.”

The soldier had proposed to the princess out of a mix of getting it out now and the belief he wouldn't make it. Now that the two are alive after the final battle, she intends to make good on what he promised and he's now wondering on how to explain it to his family.

“In our defense, sir, he is a VERY large man.”

The captain exploded with anger. “That’s why I sent the WHOLE ARMY, IDIOT!”

The soldiers backed away in fear. One man stepped out of the crowd.

“Sir,” he said tentatively. “If I might offer a suggestion?”

The captain groaned and rubbed his temples. “Fine. Yes, what is it?”

“Perhaps,” the man said. “Perhaps we could find our own giant. If we can match that giant with another, they would distract each other long enough for us to take the castle back.”

“Yes,” the captain said slowly. “Yes. That’s a good plan. Do that.”

The men looked around at each other.

The captain sighed. “Did I stutter? DO IT! NOW!”

Soldiers jumped and ran around, running into each other in their haste to follow orders. 

The captain looked up at the sky and groaned.

“It is one man, by himself, in a castle on a hill. How does an ENTIRE ARMY fail to take it???”