#I use to walk and also be chased by her dog way back in the day

[atleastpleasetelephone]

Little Darling

Chapter 11 - The mirror is a trap that saves

It's 1997, and Elvis is still alive and well. He quit music in 1972 after a successful world tour, and now he runs Presley Studios - teaching people karate across America. His daughter and grandchildren are regular visitors at Graceland, and when he’s in Memphis he likes to do a little teaching. His life is quieter now, though. Most of the Mafia have gone - going to live their own lives - and after his divorce from his second wife, Elvis is sworn off women for good. Will a Welsh girl with a wicked sense of humour be the one to make him break his promise to himself not to fall in love again?

Need to catch up? Go here.

Pairing: Old Man!Elvis x OC - Tegan, a Welsh girl he meets at karate.

Word count: 3.2K

TWs: Elvis is a little dominant, use of daddy in a sexual context, bit of dollification, objectification if you squint, possessive kink, praise kink, p in v sex.

It's Christmas eve, and Elvis scratches his bearded chin as he walks arm in arm with Tegan and their dog through the snowy park. He's grown a beard to make it easier for him to dress up as Santa for the grandkids, but he started too late and it's itchy. Tegan told him that the itchy stage would finish soon (her ex had a beard) but he's preoccupied by how annoying it is right now. The dog is a chow cross that they chose together at a rescue centre, as soon as Elvis found out that Tegan loved dogs as much as him. She made the mistake of telling him about the Welsh language band Ffa Coffi Pawb - literally meaning “everyone's coffee beans”, but pronounced fah-koff-ee pow-b which made it sound a lot like fuck off everyone, in a combination of Welsh and English - Wenglish - and he decided that was the perfect name for their new furry friend. In the end he went for Ffa Coffi, which Tegan thinks doesn't really work as a pun, but Elvis enjoys saying regardless. Tegan also doesn't think a dog can be called Coffee Beans (bean would be fine, but the plural just seems crazy) but mostly they just shout “COFFI!” which works in either language. The most important thing is that Coffi is laid back and will barely chase after a ball, never mind other people's pets. And he puts up with Tegan cuddling him all the time without ever trying to lick her face. Sometimes when Elvis sees them curled up on the sofa together he wonders if he will ever get a look in. 

The beard and the fact that he’s wrapped up for the cold mean that barely anyone recognises Elvis, and so they’ve come out without any kind of back up. Elvis feels more and more comfortable doing that nowadays, happy to just walk around with Tegan and Coffi. They don’t see the paps often in the cold, and when they do they just do their best to ignore them. As they make their way through the snow, he’s reminded of the day at the zoo, when they definitely did have to have back up. 

“Hey, I bet if we went ta the zoo today no-one would bother us.”

Tegan snorts. “And all the animals would probably be indoors by the fire with a cocoa.”

“Cocoa?”

“Oh, hot chocolate.”

“Ah.”

They carry on for a while in silence, then Elvis pipes up again. 

“I’m sorry about that day, honey. Ya didn’t deserve bein’ dragged through the press like ya were.”

Her smile is slight as she remembers the horrible events of the day after. “Neither did you.”

Stopping, he turns to her and looks into her face seriously. “Ya didn’t deserve the way I treated ya, either.”

Her eyes dart around, awkwardly, and she eventually settles on looking down at Coffi. “Well, that was a while ago, now, ‘raur. Things have been much better since then.”

Taking his hands out of his pockets, he reaches for hers to hold them. The dog lead slips onto her wrist and Coffi sits down between them, looking up patiently. 

“Ya know yer beautiful, right?”

She frowns a little, still looking at the dog. “I’m not sure what that’s got to do with… before.”

He steps towards her and the dog whines a little at being hemmed in between them. 

“Will ya look at me, pretty girl?”

Her nose wrinkles and she looks up cautiously. “We’ve been through this, ‘raur. I’m almost 40 years old.”

“Alright then. Look at me when I’m talking to ya, woman.”

There’s a trace of a smile on her face as he moves his hand to her cheek and pulls her towards him, making her stagger forwards for balance as he crashes his lips against hers. 

“Mmm. ‘Raur,” she chides, a blush rising on her face as he pulls back. 

“Can’t get ya ta listen otherwise, can I?” He grumbles, letting out a low whistle and shaking his head. “Now I’ve got yer attention, will ya answer me?”

“About what?”

Elvis growls deep in his throat, making Coffi yelp in surprise. “I want ya ta tell me yer beautiful.”

“Elvis…”

“No.” The word is sharp and the force of it makes her tremble. “Don’t Elvis me. Tell me what I want ta hear.”

“I guess I look better now I've had my hair and nails done…”

Nudging the dog out of the way with his foot, Elvis closes the gap between them and puts his lips to Tegan’s ear.

“Well if yer not gonna tell me now I'll haveta fuck it outta ya later.” His voice is low and gravelly and she trembles again at the pitch and the force of the words. She can feel a blush rising on her cheeks and finds her thighs rubbing together almost of their own accord. “Hm?” He prompts, not moving his mouth from her ear. 

“Yes, Daddy,” she whispers back. 

He's half-tempted to reply “yes, Daddy, what?” but he decides not to push it outdoors, and responds with a quick “good” instead. He steps back and takes the dog lead off Tegan, gently tugging Coffi towards him. 

“Time ta head back.”

They turn and walk back towards the car, Tegan’s stomach flipping as the words he’d just said run through her mind over and over again. As well as the consistent erections, the pills had given Elvis a little more confidence, but he’d never said anything like that outside of the bedroom, let alone outside of the house. On the drive home they make small talk about when they’re going to put out the presents, and what they’ve bought for other people, but Tegan’s brain keeps short-circuiting to him telling her he’s going to fuck it out of her. She watches him carry on doing normal, everyday things when they’re back at Graceland. Feeding the dog, making coffee. 

“Elvis?”

“Yes, baby.”

“Can I have a kiss?”

He moves to put his arms around her, pulling her in close. “Of course ya can.”

His lips are soft and the kiss is gentle. Tegan feels herself relax. She smiles as he pulls back. 

“Thanks.”

He chuckles softly. “Mmm. No problem.” Stroking her cheek, he continues, “you lookin’ forward to dressin’ up as Mrs Claus later? Puttin’ on that little outfit I bought ya?”

She looks at his expression for a moment and then shakes her head a little. “It’s obscene, isn’t it?”

He pretends to look offended. “Obscene? Somethin’ I bought fer ya?” When she carries on staring at him with one raised eyebrow he relents. “Okay, yeah, so it’s a little short. Gotta show off my girl’s legs though, haven’t I?”

“To who?!”

“Ah. Okay, ya got me there.” He ponders the question for a moment. “Alright. It’s self-gratification. Jus’ wanna see ‘em myself.”

She keeps shaking her head but they’re both giggling and then they’re kissing again. Tegan hears someone clearing their throat and pulls back quickly. 

“Sorry to interrupt you lovebirds, but I’ve got two kids demanding lunch.” Lisa-Marie smiles at them both. 

“Chefs are on their way in,” Elvis explains, looking at his watch. “Ten minutes or so an’ then they’ll be makin’ somethin’. Kids’ll have ta be patient.”

The impatient children appear as if they’ve been summoned by the conversation, and Elvis suggests they all go down to the den and hang out there instead. Ben follows his sister, explaining some comic book or other that he’s been reading to her in painstaking detail, whilst she pulls the most bored face Tegan thinks she’s ever seen. Elvis settles into an armchair and pulls his girlfriend into his lap. One arm rests around her waist whilst his other hand brushes her hair away from her neck to give him easy access to press kisses to it every so often. He always seems to know when she needs reassurance. 

“You two are so sweet together,” Lisa remarks. 

“Ah, I’m lucky she puts up with me,” Elvis replies, his fingers combing through Tegan’s hair. “She’s got the patience of a saint.”

“Don’t talk about me as though I’m not here,” Tegan complains. 

Lisa starts saying something about him being a pain in the ass, but Tegan can barely hear it because his lips are next to her ear again, murmuring, “think ya like it when I do that, honey.” Her pussy tingles at the words and she swallows, thickly. Managing after what seems like minutes to tune back into the conversation, only to hear Elvis saying,

“She’s way too good fer me, and far too pretty.”

The tingling between her legs intensifies. She does like it. She likes it way too much. Fuck. She tries to calm down as she hears Lisa ask her a question to draw her back into the conversation. 

“Oh well, I mean he is better than me at karate, I suppose…”

They bounce back and forth and she starts to feel herself relax. But Elvis had felt the way she’d tensed and seen the blush on her face. He certainly hasn’t lost his touch, when it comes to knowing what women like, he thinks. Not at all. 

***

Tegan looks at herself in the mirror, turning to the side and tugging at the hem of her dress a little. She’d been right when she accused Elvis of buying her an obscene costume - it only just covers her ass. At least it’s not skin tight, she muses. But there’s no way she’s bending over in it in the best of the house. She pulls the santa hat onto her head and laughs at her reflection. If someone had told her a year ago that she’d be in one of the bedrooms in Graceland, wearing a skimpy Mrs Claus outfit and getting ready to arrange presents underneath the Christmas tree (a task that was now definitely seeming impossible to do without flashing someone) she’d have laughed them out of town. And yet, here she is.

Her thoughts are interrupted by the appearance of Elvis in his own Santa costume. She turns and runs daintily towards him, the red sparkly heels he’d bought her slowing her down a little. Throwing her arms around his neck she grins as his hands grip her lower back. 

“You look very handsome as Father Christmas.”

He chuckles. “I look like an old man in a Santa costume, honey.”

“You look handsome,” she tells him firmly, and he leans down to kiss her with a smile. 

“Father Christmas,” he teases, doing a bad impression of her accent. 

She sniggers. “Daddy Christmas.”

His hand reaches down to squeeze her ass. “Yeah, ya can call me that if ya want.”

They both giggle a little before he insists on looking at her properly in her outfit, twirling her around and making approving noises. 

“You’ve outdone yourself here, Presley,” he says, to himself. 

She can’t help smiling, despite the ridiculousness of the situation. He lets out a sharp breath and then shakes his head quickly as if to dispel the dirty thoughts. 

“Right, let’s get these gifts done.” 

He gives her a quick slap on the ass and she squeals. “Elvis!”

“Thought it was Daddy Christmas,” he replies, one eyebrow raised and a little smile playing on his lips. 

“You are incorrigible.”

“You are incorrigible, Daddy Christmas.”

Tegan doubles over laughing at that, which Elvis particularly enjoys given the length of her skirt and the lacey panties he’d bought her to wear with her outfit. 

“I swear these pills have made you worse.”

“Ya won’t learn, will ya? Call me by my name or I’ll have to put ya over my knee and we’ll never get these gifts done.”

Managing eventually to keep a straight face, she puts her arms back around his neck and looks up into his face. 

“Sorry, Daddy Christmas,” she coos. “I promise I’ll be a good girl. I don’t want to miss out on my presents.”

“I’ll definitely be givin’ ya somethin’ later if yer good,” he teases back. 

After more giggling, nose scrunching and forehead kisses, they eventually untangle themselves and head downstairs to arrange the presents, fetching them from outside of bedroom doors and piling them up underneath the tree. They fill the kids’ stockings and Elvis eats the cookie left out for Santa, leaving the glass of sherry to Tegan, since she’d insisted on it. Much to her relief, no-one comes out to see them at work so she doesn’t have to worry about her modesty too much. It’s still good to be in Elvis’ room afterwards, especially when he tells her he has some gifts to give her now. 

“Don’t think this is somethin’ everyone needs ta see,” he explains, handing her a beautifully wrapped package. “An’ the other one,” he gestures at the box next to her on the bed, “is somethin’ I want ya wearin’ tomorrow.”

“Which one first?”

He taps the package in her hand. “That one.”

She unwraps it carefully, then immediately bursts out laughing. It’s not just one present - it’s a set of three pairs of panties with ELVIS embroidered on the back in silver script. 

“Oh my God! Did you have these made?!”

He nods, grinning a little bashfully. “Thought you might like ‘em. Ya can wear a pair tomorrow under that dress I bought ya.”

Elvis had bought her yet another gold dress, which he somehow hadn’t classed as a Christmas present, having given it to her earlier in the week. She thinks she ought to be overwhelmed by all the presents, and she’s certainly nervous to see his reaction to what she’s bought him, but every time he produces another one she’s filled with a kind of warm joy. He loves giving and she loves receiving. They’re a match made in heaven. 

She smirks and once she’s finished looking at the panties she reaches for the next present. Under the wrapping paper is a beautiful velvet box, and inside the box is… 

“Oh ‘raur!!” She exclaims, very carefully lifting the tiara out of the box. It’s gold and covered in diamonds and she hates to think how much money it must have cost. “Oh cariad, it’s beautiful.” 

“Put it on, honey.”

She pushes the santa hat off her head as she gets up and walks over to the full-length mirror. Carefully replacing the hat with the tiara, she fiddles with her hair and turns her head from side to side, looking at the stones sparkling in the light. Elvis comes up behind her, slipping his arms around her waist and pressing a kiss to her temple. 

“My beautiful Queenie.”

She blushes and looks down. “Oh ‘raur. It’s too much.”

“Uh-uh. Nothin’ too much f’my Queenie.”

“Thank you. I love it.”

He kisses her cheek this time and his eyes lock with hers in the mirror. “Let’s see ya in it and those panties, then.”

She spins around in his arms, her arms reaching around his neck. “Am I just some kind of naughty fashion show for you?”

“Yep,” he replies, patting her ass. “Off ya go now. Do as yer told.”

Part of her can’t believe she’s just going along with this, going into the en suite to take her dress and underwear off, and put the new panties on. She hadn’t thought that being with Elvis would be like being his little doll sometimes, and she also hadn’t thought that she’d like it so much. She opens the door slowly, then steps back into the bedroom. Elvis is still fully-clothed, sitting on his bed waiting for her. As soon as he spots her, looking a little shy only a few steps into the room, he beckons her over. 

“C’mere. That’s it. Spin round fer me. Mmmm. Lookin’ good, Tegan bach.”

Once she’s finished with being paraded around in a circle for the second time that evening, Tegan gets onto Elvis’ lap. She much prefers being close to him like this to being made to strut about like a catwalk model, and she presses herself up against him, enjoying the feeling of her naked skin against his soft, almost furry suit. His hands rub up and down her back, kissing her deeply as she rolls her hips against him. 

“Ya gonna tell me what I want ta hear yet?” He murmurs in her ear. 

“Mmm. No. Think you promised something about fucking it out of me.”

He hums and pulls his belt off, before reaching into the pants of his suit and pulling his dick out. “Sit on it fer me, honey.”

She moves to take her panties off and one of his hands grips her arm. He shakes his head. “Keep ‘em on. Jus’ move ‘em to the side.”

Moaning, she slowly eases him inside her until she’s full, sitting on his lap, her head against his shoulder, panting. 

“Good girl. Want ya ta remember who ya belong to.”

“I couldn’t…forget… Elvis.”

“Mmmm. Yer all mine.”

She tries to steady her breathing, still leaning heavily against him. 

“Okay, baby?” He asks, softly, when she still doesn’t move. 

“Mmm. Yes. Fuck.”

“This enough fer ya?”

She smiles against him. “I was promised a fuck.”

He smiles back, thinking how much he loves her in this moment. His hands move to grip her hips and he uses them to move her, slowly at first and then gathering pace. The tiara slips and she quickly removes it, setting it safely on the bedside table. 

“Now?” He asks, pulling her up and slamming her back down on him, hard. 

She whines. “I… oh… fuck…”

“That’s not it, honey.”

“I… oh, fine! I’m beautiful! I’m… fuck…” she forces the words out and at around the same time her orgasm hits her with the force of a speeding truck. 

“Yes ya fuckin’ are,” he replies, through gritted teeth as he feels her squeezing him. His hips buck a few times and then he’s cumming inside her too. 

She falls down against him like a ragdoll, puffing and panting. Once he's managed to get his santa suit off he pulls her back into his arms. They lie together for a while, basking in the glow of their orgasms. Tegan starts to think about the next day, and who will be arriving when, her brain lazily trying to figure out logistics. They chat about it for a while, Elvis reassuring her that she doesn’t have to worry, he’s already planned it all.

“So that’s everyone, I think.”

“Sure you haven’t missed anyone?”

“Oh, yeah. Jerry will be comin’. On his own, though. Wife left ‘im. Thought he might want company.”

“Who’s Jerry?”

“Friend a mine from before. Lives in LA now. Pretty boy, ‘bout seven years younger ‘an me.”

“You didn’t say.”

“Musta forgot, honey. Ya’ll like ‘im. Everyone likes Jerry.”

“Did you tell him about me?”

“‘Course I did, honey. He’s lookin’ forward ta meetin’ ya.”

Tegan thinks she’s looking forward to meeting him too, for some reason she can’t quite define. They carry on talking until Elvis starts to drift off, and so Tegan extracts herself from his arms and gets more comfortable. Imagining Graceland on Christmas morning, bustling with life and joy until she falls asleep too. 

***

Taglist:

@vintagepresley @arg-xoxo @from-memphis-with-love @msamarican @blursedblegh @returntopresley @eapep @everythingelvispresley @i-r-i-n-a-a @sissylittlefeather @arrolyn1114 @jhoneybees @cattcb @polksaladava @lookingforrainbows @jkdaddy01 @ccab @epthedream69 @lustnhim @elvisslut @pomtherine @that-hotdog @ladelinee @angschrof @fairybloodsucker @deltafalax @makethemorning @elviswhore69 @ilovequeen978 @wildhorseinkansas @pocketfulofpresley @dkayfixates @iloveelvisss @kxnnxy

[mer-se]

it’s crazy how people don’t think their death will affect people around them even if you aren’t close to them, or even if they were just semi passing encounters like no, others feel it. my neighbor died and as I park my car and look up at her dark little house it makes me so sad - I wanna go inside and turn on the lights she always has on. People notice and will feel it even if you don’t believe it.

[gallusrostromegalus]

I haven't seen any dog stories in a while. How are Charleston and The Hanukkah Goblin doing?

Dog updates!

The first one is a little sad, but also how life should go. Arwen is 14 now and while she's still moving, eating, pooping and generally enjoying life, she also has canine dementia and sundown syndrome where she gets extremely nervous and her dementia gets worse after dark. She'll be with us for a while yet, but it's something we have to manage now.

One person who is very much helping her manage is Herschel. My parents are traveling a lot while they still have the knees for it so I spend a lot of time up at their house, and Charleston and Herschel come up too. Being a Corgi, Herschel likes to manage things, and Arwen would like someone to manage things for her so he's become her self-appointed guide dog.

When I call the dogs for food or outside, he goes and finds her deaf ass and herds her to the location. Normally she doesn't go outside after dark but when the boys are there she's willing to wait for Charlie to chase away anything that might be lurking out there, and then follow Herschel's ass around the yard at night.

Very literally.

She's also got cataracts forming and I think his bright white backside is easy for her to see in the dark, so she follows it around.

During daytime walks she sees well enough but neither she nor Charlie are fans of strange off-leash dogs running up to them (a regrettably common problem out here. I don't care if your dog is friendly MINE ARE NOT!), so both of them prefer to walk half a pace behind Herschel so his more socially adept and knife-filled face is out front to intercept any unwanted solicitors. This does tend to give people the opposite impression though- because he is so much shorter, Herschel gives the impression of a tiny, charming mafioso flanked by his two large and surly bodyguards.

Like, they absolutely would kill a bear for him.

But Charlie and Arwen would also try to kill a bear on general principle.

At night, when Arwen barks at shadows, Herschel runs up and stand between her and the alleged menace, and does his best to look large and intimidating and for as silly as he looks, he does have a very good growl. After a moment, when the alleged bear or congressman or other horror fails to appear, he will stick his nose into the offending shadow, and finding nothing, be satisfied that their joint effort has successfully chased the problem off, and report back to her. This, more than anything else, seems to alleviate Arwen 's fears.

I guess we all just need someone to take us seriously when we're frightened.

Charleston, meanwhile, has gotten into giving safari tours of the front range's small vertebrates.

After eight years of managing his exceptionally high prey drive, something clicked earlier this summer and instead of immediately lunging his whole face at any approximately bite-sized animal in an attempt to expedite it's journey into his stomach, Charlie has started *pointing* at things until I come look at them and tell him he's a good boy. This started with a mole, something he'd never seen before and that moves above ground in a strange way, so he wasn't sure about eating it, so he only alerted at it. "GOOD BOY!" I shouted, giving him all the cuddles. "GOOD SPOT! GOOD JOB NOT EATING IT!"

It's important to reward behavior you want to see.

Since then, he's been trying out pointing at small creatures in the grass and then making very pointed eye contact with me until I come look at them. This is a little tricky when walking both dogs because Herschel is still very much in his "inhale wildlife" phase, but usually I can lock the little gremlin's leash and go look at whatever Charlie has cornered while Herschel attempts to develop telekinesis to will the critter into his mouth.

So far, Charleston has found: a baby rabbit, several baby rabbits in a cluster, an adult rabbit with Jackalope virus, several voles, several moles, a fledgling owl, only the two mice, several mouse-sized grasshoppers and cicada, someone's pet rat (the person was searching within earshot and 'Socks' was collected forthwith), a beanie baby that had me fooled for a hit minute too, a marmot which I didn't know lived down here, a groundhog which I didn't know lived up here, a mink, so many toads, a wild turkey chick, so many more garter snakes and last night, an aquatic shrew.

I don't know if there's an Audubon Society for small things that scuttle around in the undergrowth, but I am inclined to join solely to get Charleston recognition for his service in surveying them.

[la2yn0va]

So if you are accepting request can you do something like yandere HSR girls of your choice (and include feixiao please) X Male Reader who's trying to kinda keep them from killing some people like Reader gives them puppy dog eyes and "wouldn't you rather spend time with me?"

Characters: Feixiao, Lingsha, Jingliu

*****

Feixiao

“See ya around, handsome~” the woman promised, waving at him while walking away. M/n stared back with nervousness, waving back at the woman. hoping his lover wasn’t around. He walked back but was quickly stopped when he bumped into a woman.

“Oh…heeey feixiao…!” He greeted, laughing nervously. Feixiao could only stare at him with possessiveness and malicious intent. “Vixen. Who might that woman be?” She asked, grabbing him by the collar and pulling him down to her level. (Shorter—Grabs you by your collar and pulls you towards her)

“Oh her…. No one important! Just someone who helped me out with the abominations of abundance!” He quickly explained. Feixiao seemed unconvinced, glaring deeper into his soul “Don’t lie to me vixen! Who is she!” She demanded, as m/n repeated his original statement.

Feixiao growled lowly, soft pushing him away and walking towards where the woman walked “If what you say it’s true, then I should go and thank her…” she said with a smile full of murderous intent.

M/n acted quickly. Grabbing Feixiao’s hand and flicking her around to face him, much to the generals shock. “Hey— come on now…! Your seriously gonna give that random girl more attention then me?”

Feixiao’s eyes glimmered with a mixture of speculation and offense. “What? I’m not giving some nobody my attention over you!” She claimed, now giving you her full attention.

“You sure? You seem oddly fixated with her” “Y-YES! I’m positive! Some nameless woman isn’t gonna have my eyes on them longer than they are on YOU!”

M/n swallowed his nervousness and slight pride, knowing this was a dangerous game he was forced to play. He closed his eyes, silently praying this would work, opening them and trying his best puppy eyes.

“Come on… don’t you wanna talk with me instead?” Feixiao stared with widned eyes. She hadn’t ever seen you like this! Why are you…why’re you being so damn adorable!?

Feixiao’s lips quivered, showing her internal struggle. Her body wanted to just go and murder that woman for daring to call you handsome! But her body also just wanted to kiss you right here and now!

M/n began to sweat as he held this look on his face. In this actually working…? Or is she just trying to freak him out so he can let her go and she goes and kills the woman…!

Feixiao sighed. She hadn’t trained herself to resist that look. So she picked you up and walked off. M/n sighed happily, realizing he had managed to save a woman from his girlfriend’s wrath.

“Don’t think your off the hook vixen~” she sung lowly, before lightly slamming you against a wall “You dare help that woman from escaping MY lesson~? And using those pretty eyes of yours to save her and manipulate my decision~?”

She leaned in, her breath attacking your neck making you jump from the shock of this whole turnout of events. “You’re in for a LOOONG day. My Naughty little vixen~”

She said with lustful intent, licking her lips before chomping down on your neck, making you yelp out a surprised moan. In the end, feixiao still gets her way.

(I’m breaking F2P for her)

Lingsha

“Thank you for your help” A woman said, shaking m/n’s hand and winking before bringing his hand up and kissing it, as if she were a gentlemen.

M/n froze, feeling a cold sweat drop from his nape. The woman giggled, believing that m/n froze due to embarrassment. “See ya around cutie” “ooohhh fuck…” he said to himself, turning to see an enraged and bloodthirsty Vidyadhara brunette.

“Wait just a mo—” M/n quickly put one of his hand over lingsha’s mouth, much to her shock and surprise. Being forced to watch the woman walk away, she created a small bunny and made it chase after her while keeping your eyes on her.

“WHAT. WAS. THAT.” She demanded an answer, her eyes twitching from anger as she pushed him onto a chair. M/n chuckled nervously, realizing he hadn’t thought this far ahead.

“Well? What do you have to say for yourself, little rabbit?” She pinched his ear roughly. “Ow—!! Wait—!!” “ANSWER ME!” She yelled, growing more irritated, her mind quickly filling with delusions.

“I-I just… well… you were paying too much attention to her!” He quickly spouted out, making lingsha freeze and widen her eyes. “…Huh?” She said as m/n realized he might’ve fucked up or is about to save a life.

“Y-You just seemed TO interested in her! A-and well—” “Oh? Is that why you’re worried? Aren’t you just adorable~” she said, stopping her harsh tugging of his ear and moving her hand to caress his face.

“Don’t worry. I’m proving she means nothing to me as we speak~” She said with a dark smile, m/n swallowed decided to shoot in the dark. He tried his best, and morphed his eyes to becoming similar to a sad puppy.

“Come on. Just forget about here… and pay attention to me.. please~?” Lingsha instantly got red on the face, feeling an arrow pierce her heart. Her entire body and focused was disturbed, which also led to the bunny she made completely disappearing.

“You cheeky little… Come here!” She yanked him forward, unable to stop herself from kissing him. She used her superior strength to keep him in place while she increases the intensity of her kiss.

Jingliu

“You’re a lifesaver pretty boy!” A woman gratefully hugged m/n, who simply patted her head. The women blushed embarrassed at the gesture but then bowed and walked away.

M/n watched her walk away before realization struck him like a semi-truck. He swallowed nervously before feeling the air suddenly grow cold. VERY cold.

He turned to see his girlfriend, a blindfolded woman with light blue hair. M/n swallowed once more, managing to see her eyes through the blindfold. Her eyes glowed red, holding nothing but malice, insanity, and delusion.

“Darling” she greeted coldly, walking towards him. “H-Hey jingliu..!! H-how are you—?” He was ignored. She walked past him, glaring down the woman with pure hatred.

“H-Hey—! Jingliu—?!” He yelled out, quickly jumping infront of her. “You okay…..?” He dragged out the ‘okay’ realizing that was a stupid question. Jingliu patted his face “Get out of my way dear” she warned him, her hand beginning to shake with murderous intent.

“H-hold on—! You’re really gonna pay attention to some random woman and not me…?” He quickly spouted out, trying to prevent the inevitable. Jingliu’s face turned more stoic, her blindfold slipping off to revel an apathetic yet insane stare.

“Is that how you feel dear? Don’t worry. I’ll alleviate your worries~” she promised, kissing him softly and walking off, quickly speeding up but m/n once again stopped her, grabbing her hand.

She flicked her head back, clear aggression in her face. He quickly acted, not think. His eyes became that of a puppy. “Wouldn’t you rather spend time with me…?” He said, seeing jingliu’s face calm into confusion before seeing her blush slightly.

She stared for a few seconds before turning fully to face him, bringing him in closer and cupping his face in her hands. She smiled softly and brought him in for a kiss.

“Forgive me love. But you brought this on yourself” she whispered, before knocking him out. “I will not take the slightest chance with you” She proclaimed. Lifting him up and turning, taking out her sword and running off the end the woman’s life.

-End-

[limonmelon]

armandaniel reclist

Because I really have to start putting these somewhere and because I need everyone to read these and give them the love they deserve:

outcast of all this night by gaypiratedivorce - "After a month in Dubai, Daniel Molloy is back home and miraculously alive, eager to get to work on his first draft. The vampire Armand has other plans." first in an insanely good (and complete!) series.

two truths and a liar by andrealyn - "Facing down the press junket for his book, Daniel Molloy is prepared to hype up his hit novel. He's less prepared to have Armand crash the tour to play bodyguard and doting assistant and he's definitely not ready to have his secrets spilled on a world stage because Armand wants to play games. The longer he sticks around to torment Daniel as he chases him across the country, the longer he stays. So, who's really winning this game?"

to the edge of the earth by andrealyn (you can tell I love her Daniel voice) - "There's nowhere that Armand can run where Daniel won't find him. Using the Talamasca's information, his own dogged determination, and eternity sprawling ahead of them, Daniel's going to find his maker and figure out why Armand keeps running. When he catches him (and he will), he's going to prove that it's going to be the two of them, forever, and that he's going to love Armand the way no one has before."

and then what? by andrealyn - "The droning hum of Louis' boredom is going to drive Armand mad. Instead of accepting it, Armand seeks out the kaleidoscope chaos that is Daniel Molloy's mind to learn why he's so special, so fascinating, so interesting. Every city he finds him in, he learns more before he makes Daniel forget. Every city, Armand grows a little more addicted. And every city, Armand does something he's not supposed to do -- falls a little more in love and eager to give Daniel the memories of who they are together."

his thoughts were red thoughts by spqr - "Daniel’s barely thirty; he can’t fathom one century, let alone five. It’s probably a wonder Armand doesn’t spend his time skulking in a cave somewhere, muttering to himself, covered in the blood and muck of his innocent human victims."

care and keeping by katplanet - "Louis shakes his head. “And now he's got you stepping on him.” Daniel picks his drink up and necks the last half of it. “I have not,” he says, “stepped on him, as of yet.” “But you want to.” “I think so?” Daniel puts the empty glass back on the table and scoots it out of their immediate limb radius. “I think I could want to. I want to want to.” “There you go,” Louis says, “tell him that. That'll set the mood.”" With some really great Louis/Daniel friends who love each other and also fuck too.

Endearments by Nothing_But_Paisley - "Daniel never compared him to a Botticelli angel or a Bernini cherub, never called him a demon or an imp. Such images scarcely existed within that wonderfully secular modern brain of his. Daniel was entirely a creature of the flesh."

open up your skull, i'll be there by typefortydeductions - "He shakes his wrist free and brings it to his mouth, licking up the trail of blood, his eyes never leaving Armand’s. He turns, and walks away, and spends a restless night in his own bed with his dick half-hard and the memory of Armand’s blood and Armand’s hands and Armand’s final whispered words before he upped and left Daniel sprawled newborn on the floor." this series floored me it's so good please read it.

mystic seaport is that way by exastris_scientia - "Daniel should really get more sleep and stop getting himself into these situations..." this series has it's boot on my throat. written pre-Season 2.

bend your dream with the road | VOTE TO END OTW RACISM by meronicavars - "Daniel is asleep dreaming of his own unreliable recollection of Louis at Polynesian Mary's all those years ago and Armand wants to dive into his dream and wrench Louis out, shake him until he realizes that Daniel is his, Daniel has always been his. Isn’t this something Louis should know? That Daniel was his gift to Armand. Why must you torture me with his presence? He wants to ask. Why would you bring him here if not to punish me?" also part of great series and written pre-Season 2.

the man who wasn't there by obstra - ""I just couldn't bear to lose you and Louis in one day.” Armand is looking away from Daniel now and picking more ferociously at the edge of his sleeve, like he's avoiding something big. He's almost afraid to ask, somehow he can tell this is going somewhere significant “Why would losing me be the same as losing Louis Armand? Just some kid you met decades ago in San Francisco, tortured a little bit then threw aside? Explain to me why. Does this have anything to do with the fact that my memory of the 70s has more holes in it than swiss cheese? I thought it was just drugs but I also thought San Francisco was just drugs and look how that turned out.”"

a haunting just for company by valkyrisms - ""I know what a breakup looks like," Daniel says. "The better question is, why are you coming to me about it? I'm the one who broke up your little sham." "This is what humans do, don't they?" Armand asks, letting his voice drop. "Crashing on their friends' couches when there's a blip in their romances?""

Simplicity by WendigoDreaming - "Daniel's memory is a gaping hole morphing slowly into the shape of Armand." also part of an ongoing series!

The Beginning Is the End Is the Beginning by trinityofone - "He should have left when he had the chance. But he wanted to see how it ended. His mistake. Because the story wasn’t done with him. All at once it was grabbing him by the throat. (A version of Daniel's turning featuring visions, sex, and sexy visions.)"

forever's gonna start tonight by trinityofone (actually just read all their IWTV fic thank you) - "I’ve lost my mind, Daniel thinks, still lavishing kisses to the chest of the creature that killed him. He says the next part out loud: “I fucking hate you. And you hate me. So something is making us do this.” “I don’t hate you,” Armand pants. “You mean nothing to me. Don't stop.”"

more to come!

[wileys-russo]

After Mearps' recent tiktok Ima need an Alessia fic about her Turkey Fear please queen

this was painful to write as someone who is ALSO terrified of bush turkeys. based around this tiktok; https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSNXWYK1m/

human shield II a.russo

“-mm they look a bit like massive rabbits.” your girlfriend pondered with a frown as you crouched down on the ground staring at the kangaroos in wonder.

“what! what sort of rabbits did you have growing up in kent less?” mary laughed in disbelief of the blondes take, a small smack heard as alessia lightly hit her.

“they dont have rabbits in kent mary all the chavs would chase them for fun.” you smirked, yelping as your girlfriend kicked at the back of your knees ruining your balance and sending you tumbling onto your ass.

"less!" you scowled up at her as the sudden movements scared away the small family of kangaroos, the four of them hopping away as you stood to your feet and brushed the dirt off of you.

"you're such a child." you huffed making her and mary laugh as you continued to walk away from them. "thats rich coming from you baby." your girlfriend teased, poking your bum lightly with her foot as you shot her a glare over your shoulder.

"the both of you are children." mary scoffed as your girlfriend caught up to you and grabbed your hand, swinging it back and forth and repeatedly kissing your cheek until she gained a smile.

"sorry mother mary!" you poked your tongue out at her, alessia joining in making the goalkeeper roll her eyes and walk off ahead of you two mumbling about how she was sick of babysitting.

"please mary you love us!" alessia teased with a smug smile, still swinging your intertwined hands back and forth. "love is a strong word alessia." the older woman tutted, the three of you chattering on about everyone's plans for the day off tomorrow.

"what the hell is that!" your conversation stopped as a strange bird appeared from the bushes and alessia suddenly stopped, her grip on your hand tightening. "oh my god its ugly." you added on, both of you frozen on the spot.

"its a turkey! get over it." mary laughed, throwing her head back at the obvious fear written on both your faces. "here birdy birdy!" mary cooed clicking her fingers. "mary don't call it over!" you hissed, trying to run away as alessia held on tightly to your hand.

"babe!" you gasped in disbelief as she suddenly grabbed you in a tight bear hug, holding your back to her front using you effectively as a human shield.

"lessi let go!" you whined, twisting around and pushing your head into her chest trying to shove her backwards as she screamed and the bird moved toward the two of you.

"you get in front you're taller!" you ordered with a grunt, trying to wrench her hands off of you as she continued to try and push you forwards toward the turkey who loomed closer and closer.

"you get in front you're older!" the blonde retorted back as you managed to duck behind her, your hands on her waist trying to keep it that way. "by nine days!" you scoffed, yelping as she managed to once again grab you and hold you in front.

"less you're supposed to protect me not use me as a human shield!" you squirmed as her fingers dug into your hips still holding your back to her front.

"oh my god its charging at us baby kick it or something!" the striker gripped you tightly as mary doubled over in laughter at the two of you. "kick it?" you repeated in disbelief at her suggestion.

"alessia you better let go of me or i swear to god you're sleeping alone for this entire tournament!" you warned seriously, almost jumping on top of her as the bird darted toward you making you both scream and fall to the ground.

"pair of fucking idiots the both of you!" mary shook her head in disbelief, shooing away the bird as you glared down at your girlfriend. "i love you?" she smiled guilty, groaning as you elbowed her in the stomach and stood to your feet, storming off.

"dog house tonight for you less!" mary teased, barking at her as the striker hurried to her feet brushing the leaves off of her with a sigh. "shut up mary that thing was huge!" alessia huffed, crossing her arms and following after you as the goalkeeper kept pace.

"speaking of, i think it heard you." mary teased as the bird appeared again, alessia freezing in the spot. "come on less! you need to go and say sorry to your poor girlfriend." mary encouraged, waving for her to follow her.

"yeah i'll go when its moved!" alessia replied, taking very slow and cautious steps as the bird pecked at the ground a few meters away, seemingly disinterested in either of the girls.

"alessia is afraid of turkeys everyone!" mary announced, phone in hand filming a tiktok. "yeah well it just started charging right at us." alessia caught up to her, eyes never leaving the bird making mary grin.

"well i wouldn't say charging!" mary laughed, camera zoomed in on the strikers fear stricken face, nervous smile on her lips. "oh i would!" alessia scoffed, memory flashing back to just a few minutes ago when the bird had attacked.

"i would say its simply walking and minding its own business." mary turned her phone to film the bird now, wandering away from them still pecking at the ground. "well yeah but it did look us in the eye-go!" alessia argued, mary feeling a hand dig into her back as the younger girl shoved her forwards.

"why are you pushing me?" mary laughed, ending the video and sliding her phone into her pocket as alessia hurried the two of them down the path leaving the bird long behind them.

"god that was pathetic you're such a wuss." mary teased, swatting alessia's hands away from them as they returned back to the main building of the hotel, waving to a few of the other girls who were sat together on the grass watching a huddle of kangaroos.

"i am not!" alessia argued with a frown, the two of them jogging upstairs and into the lobby. "yes you are, first you use that poor girl as a shield and then me. she was right you should have been in front you're taller!" mary laughed with a shake of her head.

"i couldn't think about it in the moment my natural instincts kicked in." alessias frown deepened. "your natural instincts? what to cower and hide behind your five foot girlfriend? good luck less!" mary snickered, clapping her on the back and wandering off to find someone else to hang out with.

with a deep seeded sigh alessia stepped into the elevator, tapping her foot impatiently as it ascended the two floors and she made her way to your room which was right next to hers.

both of you having swapped spare key cards she wasted no time letting herself in, wincing at the glare you gave her as she did, closing the door softly behind her and making her way toward the bed.

"i'm sorry." she started honestly, standing at the foot of the bed as you were laid down on your back, head buried in a book and refusing to meet her apologetic gaze, eyebrows creased into a frown.

"i'm really really sorry?" alessia tried again, taking a seat on the end of the bed as once more you stayed silent, still not meeting her eyes as they trailed down your body. "i'm really really really reallyyy sorry." the striker continued, moving to sit up on her knees.

"baby." the girl frowned as she tried to lay down, your feet pressing into her shoulders preventing her from doing so. "i'm really really really really really really reallyyy sorry!" the blonde effortlessly knocked your feet off and flopped down on top of you, torso hovering above your hips as she held herself up with her arms.

"you used me as turkey bait." you scowled, lips pursed together in a small pout as you glanced at her over the top of your book. "you're the cutest turkey bait a girl could ever ask for?" alessia smiled charmingly, settling down so her chin rested on your lower stomach.

"cheap flattery will not work this time russo." you warned sternly, marking your page, closing your book and placing it down on the nightstand. "oh not the last name, baby you wound me!" alessia cried out, sitting up a little and clutching at her chest dramatically.

you bit down on your bottom lip to swallow the smile which wanted to curl onto your face. "nope! saw that." your girlfriend grinned, dropping back down and gently placing a tender kiss to the sliver of tanned skin poking out where your shirt had ridden up a little.

"alessia!" you couldn't help but laugh as suddenly she was pulling your shirt up properly and wedging her head inside, effectively wiggling herself to wear it alongside you. "you're stretching it." you groaned, still laughing as her head eventually poked out of the top, her body pressed flush against yours, pinning your own to the bed, the two of you trapped inside your training top.

"you wear mine all the time anyway babe so it doesn't matter." the striker grinned, shoving her hands in as well and moving them up to cup your face. "hello beautiful." she sung out with a charming smile, lips hovering over yours as you shook your head and she pecked your lips repeatedly again mumbling an apology each time she did.

"you are ridiculously clingy." you teased, corners of your mouth curving into an amused smirk. "gotta take the best care i can of my little human shield, and my most pretty girl." the taller girl was quick to retort back as your mouth formed a small o, dipping her head and pressing her again lips to yours.

"you're so lucky you're cute."

[lesbomaticlove]

tw // pet death - but also cat photo dump

---

she came into my life on my fifth birthday, in 2008.

the shelter had named her amelia, but I couldn't pronounce it right, so the spelling was changed to amilea. she was a runt, the only survivor of her litter, and frankly swayed my concept of the normal size of a cat. she was my little baby to the end, and loved to be cradled like one. she's been the one constant through my life. when i lost friends i still had her to cuddle and love. she gave me sixteen years. she was a thief of chips and ice cream and aptly nicknamed 'satan' for her bitchy nature toward others.

my family used to have this stringy wallpaper that she was able to climb, and she would get up to eye level on the corner and wait for someone to come up from the basement to scare them. she hated strangers and all other animals excluding our family dog, buddy, who she took the time to groom and cuddle when she wasnt chasing him around.

she loved to sit on my shoulders and watch when i played piano or cooked. she never walked with her harness on, but she loved to lay outside with me while i read in the back yard.

when i moved out, i knew i had to have her with me. i never wanted to be apart from her. she slept in my bed every night right next to my head, spent the time i was at work sat on the windowsill watching birds until i got home. she insisted on sitting in my lap every time i was at my computer drawing, and screamed at me every time i sang too loud.

when her arthritis started to affect her i did everything i could to keep her comfortable. i put steps up to her favorite window sill, gave her a series of platforms to more easily get up on the bed. i had to make my bed a certain way because she refused to step on the comforter as she was losing vision and a black blanket didn't make for easy stepping at night. i put down padding around the bed for when she did fall off so she wouldn't get hurt, and made sure to give her ample room to lay any time so she wouldnt.

she passed away in my arms wednesday night.

she gave me sixteen years, and i will always cherish her.

[whatitshouldvebeen]

(no idea if these even go through, first time pls be patient with me) i’ve been going through your blog for a few days and i am loooving it omg i love the way you write so much! i was wondering what you would think would go down when,

a victim using reader as bait to let the victim go

a victim hurting reader (mistook as a family member) or

A victim dragging reader out an exit to escape also (thinking she’s another person trapped there) please don’t feel like you have to answer all, (or even answer at all) you have your own life and you can make your own decisions in life :) 👋

A Dog's Loyalty

I wrote this as a combo of all three requests of yours!

Description: Ana tries to escape with you, but you don't want to leave

Warnings: blood, injury

"Oh my god, Leland, there's someone else in here!"

You looked up at her, your eyes wide. You were huddled in the corner of Johnny's shack, frozen in place. It had been months since you saw another person; you'd almost forgotten anyone but Johnny truly existed.

"Don't worry, hun, we'll get you out. My name is Ana, what's yours?" the young woman asked, working to untie the rope from around your ankle. She had the most beautiful tan skin, her dark hair matted with sweat but still cascading in pretty waves down to her shoulders. The guy she'd called Leland kept watch, peeking out of the cracked front door anxiously.

You hesitantly told her your name, and she smiled as she helped you up from the floor. "I think our friend Julie already unlocked the front gate. We just have to get there without getting caught."

Leland signaled that the coast was clear, sliding through the crack in the door. Ana waited for you to go, and you marveled at how easy it was to get through now. You'd been here so long you'd lost a lot of weight since the first time you'd been sneaking around trying to escape.

You're almost blinded by the light as you emerge on the other side. How long had it been since you'd been outside? You couldn't even remember. Months? A year? Longer?

Ana came out after you, and not long after the three of you heard a chainsaw revving. Ana pulled you into some tall grass while Leland ran away from the exit, drawing the attention of the man you'd heard Johnny refer to as "big boy," who yelled in outrage as he chased after him.

"Come on, now's our chance!" Ana said, grabbing your hand. You stumbled after her, not used to running after so long locked away.

"Where do you think you're going, sweetheart?"

The voice stopped you in your tracks, only a few feet from the gate. Ana looked at you incredulously and tried to pull you toward the gate.

"Come on! He's coming!!" She screamed, tugging at you. You stayed rooted in place, your ears burning.

"Be a good girl and stay right where you are." Johnny rounded the corner of the white picket fence, walking so slowly you probably could get away if you started running. But you didn't.

"Oh my god, you're one of them, aren't you?!" Ana accused, pulling your back against her chest. She took out a bone scrap and held it to your neck, her breathing erratic.

"Let me and Leland go, or I'll kill her!" Ana said, pressing the scrap against your neck and backing up toward the gate. You winced, but it wasn't anything new to have a sharp edge threaten your life.

Johnny stopped, his eyes narrowing.

"'Fraid I can't do that. Your friend is already in the basement being chopped up as we speak."

Ana swallowed harshly. "You piece of shit! You're lying!"

Johnny grinned. "Stick around fer dinner and I'll let you see him again, all dressed in some nice gravy ‘n chitlins."

Ana's tears fell on your shoulder as her back ran into the gate. Johnny stayed where he was, his fingers twitching at his side.

"Johnny," you whispered, trying not to move.

"Obviously, she wants to stay. Keep her," Ana said, shoving the gate open. She then took the bone scrap and jabbed it into your thigh, throwing you to the side.

You screamed as you fell to the ground, blood welling around the bone scrap. Johnny let out a feral growl before lunging, moving faster than you'd ever seen him move.

"Help me!" Ana screamed, running out onto the road. Johnny moved twice as fast, fueled by rage as he grabbed her around her midsection. He didn't hesitate before dragging his blade across her throat, her blood fanning out through the air and splattering on the road. He let her drop to the road, discarded, and you heard him run back through the gate.

He collected you in his arms, sitting on the dusty ground and holding you close.

"Are you okay baby?" He asked, gently stroking your hair from your face. He looked down at your leg and winced, the first time you've ever seen him queasy at the sight of an injury.

You nodded, though your face was pallid and your fingertips felt cold.

"I… need a bandaid…"

Johnny laughed and nodded. "I'll get ya one. Come on." He picked you up easily, cradling you against his chest. Instead of taking you to his shack, he brought you into Nancy's house for the first time. Once inside he laid you out on the dining room table, much like the meals they'd served over the years.

He rushed to the bathroom and brought back gauze.

"This is gonna hurt sugar. Here." He unbuckled his belt and put it between your teeth. "Bite down on this, alright?"

You nodded, and he smiled. "Good girl. One… two…" He then yanked the bone scrap from your thigh.

You wailed, more thick blood oozing out onto the table. Johnny poured alcohol over the wound, making the pain almost unbearable. He then, as quickly as he could, wrapped your leg in gauze. You felt your vision getting fuzzy as you began to fade. But then, Johnny leaned over the table, took his belt back, and kissed you.

Your heart instantly picked up, and your eyes focused on him as he pulled back, his cocked grin on his handsome face.

"You showed your loyalty today, sugar. I knew you were special." He kissed you again, and even though your arms were weak you still wrapped them around his neck. When he pulled back, he looked happier than you'd ever seen him.

"Welcome to the family."

[lee-laurent]

Fairytale - Quinn Hughes

Summary: Quinn, a commoner, falls for the princess of his kingdom

content: monarchy (?), fluff, angst, arranged marriage

wc: 9.5k

notes: this is kinda cheesey. i can't tell if it's cringe or not... also i had to use translator app a bit because idk the english words for some like fairytale stuff

Princess Francesca shifted restlessly in her bed, the dawn light casting pale strips of light through her curtains. She could hear the faint, familiar creaks of the palace as it stirred awake--the footsteps of the early-rising servants, the rattle of dishes from the kitchens below, the swish of brooms across the marbled halls.

Today was a court day, and soon her maid would enter with a dress stiff with embroidery, layers of silk, and delicate lace. She'd be expected to sit for hours in the throne room beside her father, listening to noblemen, landowners, and advisors drone on. A long day of diplomacy and keeping her shoulders straight, her chin lifted just so. The thought alone made her itch for escape.

Francesca bit her lip, her heart pounding as she crept to her wardrobe and reached for her plainest, dullest dress. She slipped it over her nightgown, pulling the rough woolen fabric over her head, the fibres scratching against her skin--a small price to pay for a taste of freedom.

She sat at her vanity, shaking her golden hair free from its nightly braid, her curls falling in soft waves past her shoulders. Reaching for her ribbon, a pale blue one that she used almost every day, she grabbed the front strands of her hair, securing them in the back with a bow. The ribbon was her favourite touch--simple, delicate, and nothing like the polished tiaras or heavy jewels she was used to. With a final check to ensure her face was free of any telltale signs of royalty, she drew up her hood and made her way toward the door.

Frankie's maid, Alice, a warm-hearted woman with wise eyes and a knack for knowing precisely when not to ask questions, waited outside her chamber door. She raised an eyebrow as Frankie slipped into the hall, unable to fully hide her smirk. "And where will you be going this morning, Your Highness?"

Frankie rolled her eyes. "Out."

Alice's mouth quirked into a smile. "Just 'out,' is it?"

"Just out," Frankie confirmed, trying to sound nonchalant. She fidgeted with her hands, giving her maid a sheepish smile.

"Right. And if anyone asks, you're...?"

"Visiting the royal library," Frankie said with a practiced innocence that didn't fool anyone. She laughed softly, her excitement showing. "Or perhaps just getting some fresh air."

Alice's face softened. She was the one person in the palace who knew the princess's longing for life outside the walls, for glimpses of the world where people's lives weren't spent writing royal decrees or following courtly schedules. She reached out, tucking a stray curl behind Frankie's ear. "Be careful, my lady."

"I will. I promise." They shared a silent look--a small, loyal moment--and then she hurried down the corridor, her heart racing as she slipped down the servant's staircase.

Once she reached the palace gardens, she held her breath, feeling the crunch of the gravel path under her shoes. She walked briskly, drawing her cloak tightly around her as she slipped through the gates at the side of the gardens, making her way out of the palace grounds and into the village.

Everything around her felt a little brighter. She watched the vendors set up their carts, the farmers unloading barrels and crates, children running along the cobblestone paths with shouts of laughter. She smiled to herself. Here, no one would spot that she was Princess Francesca. Here, she would be just another face in the crowd.

The hum of the village felt so much different than the hum of the palace. Here, people smiled and waved to each other, calling out their familiar greetings. A woman walked past with a basket of freshly picked apples. A dog barked as it chased after a boy in a patchy coat. For the first time in days, Frankie could breathe.

Stepping into the heart of the market, she allowed herself to slow down, to wander without purpose. Here, she was just a girl in a hood, taking in the sights and sounds.

~~

The market hummed with energy, the cobblestone paths busy with villagers setting out baskets of freshly baked bread, bundles of herbs, and gleaming fruits and vegetables. Frankie weaved through the stalls, occasionally glancing over her shoulder, though no one gave her a second glance. Her father ruled the lands with a firm but fair hand, and his face was well-known. But she, safely hidden beneath her cloak, remained unrecognized--a mystery among the townsfolk.

Drawn by the warm glow of a blacksmith's forge near the edge of the square, Frankie approached a modest shop where the rhythmic clang of hammer against metal rang out. She slowed her pace, intrigued by the broad-shouldered young man working within.

He had thick, dark hair that caught in the morning light, and his hands moved with practiced ease, shaping a piece of iron with each strike of his hammer. He face was focused, intent on his work, and she watched him with quiet fascination, feeling like she'd stepped into another world.

Suddenly, his voice interrupted her thoughts. "Do I have something on my face, or are you just that interested in the fine art of smithing?"

Startled, Frankie's eyes snapped up to meet his. His expression held a bit of amusement, the slightest lift of his eyebrow acknowledging the fact that he'd caught her staring.

"Oh, I--no, I mean..." Frankie stammered, momentarily flustered. She tried to regain her composure, pulling her hood down a little lower. "I was just... watching."

"Watching, were you?" His tone was light, teasing, as he wiped his hands on a rough cloth and stepped out from behind the forge. Up close, his face was warm, with sharp blue eyes that seemed to see right through her. "You don't look like a smithing enthusiast, if I'm being honest."

"No, I suppose I'm not," she replied, feeling her cheeks warm. "But it's... interesting. I've never really seen it up close."

"Ah, I see. A newcomer, then," he guess, smiling in a genuine way. "You're safe here, don't worry. No one's going to bite." He extended his hand. "I'm Quinn."

For a split second, Frankie hesitated, but then she placed her hand in his. His grip was rough and firm, completely devoid of the etiquette and delicacy she was used to. It felt real.

"Frankie," she replied, keeping the introduction simple.

"Frankie," he repeated. "Well, Frankie, nice to meet you. And welcome to our fine little village."

"It's lovely," she said earnestly, glancing around. "Much more... lively than the palace."

She caught herself too late, realizing she'd let slip more than she meant to. But if Quinn noticed, he didn't show it. He was looking at her with the same warm smile, his eyes crinkling slightly at the corners.

"What brings you to this side of town?" he asked. "It's rare we get visitors who find the blacksmith shop 'interesting.'"

"Oh, I, um..." She scrambled for an explanation. "I wanted to see a bit more of the kingdom. Sometimes you see things more clearly when you... step outside of your own walls."

Quinn tilted his head, considering her answer. There was a glint of something--understanding, perhaps--in his eyes. "Well, then, you picked a good day for it. And if you're looking to see the world from outside 'your walls,' let me know. I've got a pretty good tour of this place. It's not much, but it's home."

Frankie couldn't help but laugh. "A tour? Do you always offer guided tours to strangers?"

"Only to the ones who seem a bit... lost." He crossed his arms, clearly trying to read her, but without the prying curiousity she had expected.

"Well then, perhaps I'll take you up on it. After all, it's not every day you meet a blacksmith willing to show you around."

A gust of wind swept through the square, lifting her hood slightly. Without thinking, she reached up to pull it back into place, but not before it slipped just far enough to reveal her face fully.

Quinn's eyes widened, recognition flickering across his face as he took a step back. "Wait... you're--"

Before he could finish, he hastily lowered himself into an awkward bow, his expression suddenly formal and full of embarassment. "Your Highness. I'm so sorry, I didn't know--"

"No, please, stand up," she tried to stifle a laugh. "I'm not a princess here. I'm just... Frankie."

He straightened slowly, clearly uncertain. She could tell he was grappling with how to speak to her now that he knew her true identity. A few tense moments passed, before Frankie took a deep breath.

"I really mean it," she said softly. "Out here, I'm just another face in the crowd. Not Princess Francesca. Just Frankie."

"Just... Frankie," he echoed, testing out the words. A small smile played at his lips, and she could see his confidence returning, though there was a newfound hint of respect. "I think I can manage that."

They stood there, quietly holding each other's gaze as the bustling world continued around them. They were both fully aware that something had changed in the brief exchange. Frankie felt even more excitement.

"Well," he said, grinning, "shall we start that tour, then, 'just Frankie'?"

"Lead the way, Quinn."

As they turned and began to walk through the market together, side by side, Frankie felt a lightness that had been missing for so long. And she allowed herself to wonder what it would be like to live like this normally.

Quinn showed her everything--the quiet back gardens of the town's inn, where flowers grew wild and fragrant; the bakery where the owner let her sample fresh pastries; the hidden creek just beyond the town, where they walked barefoot along the edge of the water.

Every place they visited had its own small charm, a piece of the world Quinn knew so well, and Frankie was mesmerized. Her world was expanding with every story he told and every laugh they shared. It was a freedom she'd only dreamed of.

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, they found themselves in a quiet clearing outside the village. They sat on a fallen log, listening to the rustling of the leaves in the wind.

"It must be nice," Frankie finally said, looking out at the trees. "To have this kind of life. To belong to a place like this."

"It has its charms," he agreed. "But I don't think it's as simple as it seems. I have my own responsibilities, even if they're different from yours. Sometimes you don't need a crown to feel trapped by what people expect of you."

Frankie glanced at him, surprised by his honesty. "I suppose you're right. I sometimes think... maybe it doesn't matter who you are. Everyone has a role to play, whether they chose it or not."

Quinn nodded. "But at least you're out here. Maybe that's a sign that you want something different. Something... real."

"I think you might be right," she murmured. "Thank you, Quinn. I mean it."

He reached out, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers brushing against her cheek. For a breathless moment, they were both still, each daring to imagine something beyond the lives they'd known.

"You're welcome, Frankie," he whispered. "Anytime."

~~

The forst clearing outside the village was quiet, except for the leaves and the occasional call of a bird in the distant. Frankie and Quinn sat together on the soft grass, a small spread of bread, cheese, apples between them, a makeshift picnic Frankie had prepared in secret before leaving the palace again. She didn't know what had made her brave enough to bring it--perhaps her desire to spend just a few more moments in his world instead of hers.

"Not much of a royal feast, I'm afraid," she said, laughing as she held up a piece of bread.

Quinn accepted it with a grin. "For someone who's 'just Frankie,' I'd say it's perfect." He took a bite, savouring it as if it were the finest meal. "Besides, it's not every day I get lunch with the princess. I mean... with Frankie."

She chuckled, though she felt a thrill each time he spoke her name, as if it were a secret shared only between them. She lay back in the grass, stretching her legs and looking up at the patches of sky between the treetops. Quinn joined her, lying down, his head tilted to watch the clouds drift by.

"You know," he began, after a few minutes of silence, "you never told me why you started sneaking out of the palace. Not that I'm complaining about it, of course," he added quickly, giving her a lopsided smile.

She paused, gathering her thoughts. "I just... needed to feel free. The palace is so beautiful, but it's also... confining. Every moment, every decision, it's all made for me, like the path of my life was laid out long before I even had the chance to imagine anything else."

She turned her head, meeting his gaze. "Out here, I can be someone else. Not a princess, not the king's daughter. Just... me."

"I think I understand. Growing up in the village I've had people tell me who I'm supposed to be, too. What I should become." He shrugged, staring at his roughened hands.

Frankie smiled, comforted by his words. It was something she'd never shared with anyone--not even Alice, though Alice likely understood more than anyone. She reached out, her fingers brushing his hand, as if she could draw strength from his touch.

"Thank you, Quinn."

He turned his hand over, his fingers entwining with hers. "For what?"

"For letting me be me. I don't think you know how much it means to me."

Their eyes met and the world around them started to fade. The line between their lives disappeared, and she found wondering if maybe--just maybe--she could have this. A life where she was more than just her title. A life where she could be someone like Quinn.

But the thoughts felt too dangerous, too tender and fragile, like a spark that could go out at any moment. She looked away, her face flushing. Yet, she didn't pull her hand from his.

"Frankie," Quinn murmured. "I think... I feel the same way."

She didn't dare move, her heart caught with the knowledge that this was more than just a simple friendship. This was something else, something deep and precious--and terribly risky.

But lying with Quinn in the clearing, she decided that some risks were worth taking.

~~

Back at the palace, Frankie tried to carry on as usual, performing her duties, attending dinners, and studying the various treaties her father was eager to discuss with her. But her mind lingered on those stolen moments with Quinn, on the way his hand felt in hers, the gentle way he listened to her. She felt lighter. She was carrying a secret so precious that she wouldn't trade it for anything.

But that feeling grew harder to hold onto as her father's plans began to solidify. King Eric had summoned her to his study one evening, a summons she knew would not bring good news.

Frankie took a deep breath and knocked on the heavy oak door, the quiet creak that followed her entry filled her with unease. Her father was seated at his desk, papers and maps spread across the surface. His face was set in its usual stern expression, his fingers tapping impatiently as he gestured for her to sit.

"Francesca," he began, folding his hands over the papers before him. "I've made a decision about your future. It's time to take your rightful place in securing the future of our kingdom."

She swallowed, her hands twisting in her lap. She had heard this line before, but something about the look in his eyes filled her with dread. "My rightful place?"

"Yes," he said firmly. "The alliance with Lathora has been in negotiation for some time now. Their prince--Prince Edmond--will make a fine match for you. The marriage will bring stability to both kingdoms and ensure our people are secure for generations to come."

Her heart sank at his words. She'd heard her father discuss the prospect of alliances before, but never with such finality. She felt a surge of panic, her fingers clenching as she fought to keep her composure.

"Father, I..." she hesitated, searching for the right words. "I understand the importance of alliances, but perhaps there's another way. A marriage--"

"Is not negotiable," he interrupted, his tone leaving no room for argument. "I am not blind, Francesca. I see the way you slip from your duties, sneaking off into the village like a commoner. You are a princess--one day a queen. It's time you understand your life is not your own. Your choices affect the entire kingdom."

Frankie looked away, her throat tight. She wanted to tell him about Quinn, to show him that what she'd found was worth more than every alliance, that her happiness could be valuable too. But she knew it would fall on deaf ears.

"Yes, Father," she forced herself to nod.

"Good." He straightened, satisfied with her compliance, and shuffled the papers in front of him. "Prince Edmond will arrive within the month. I expect you to show him the respect and hospitality befitting a future queen."

~~

Late that night, after her father's announcement, Frankie sat by the windows in her chambers, her heart heavy. The palace walls, once merely confining, now felt suffocating. She couldn't bear the thought of marrying a man she barely knew, let alone someone she didn't love.

As if sensing her turmoil, Alice slipped into the room. She had a knack for appearing at the right time, and this was no exception.

"Frankie?" Alice's voice was soft as she approached. "You look troubled, dear."

"It's my father. He's... he's arranged a marriage for me. To a prince from Lathora. It's final--there's no way out."

Alice sat beside her, resting a gentle hand on her shoulder. "I thought something like this might happen. But I had hoped he would see that you're still young, that you deserve a chance to find happiness on your own terms."

A tear slipped down Frankie's cheek, and she quickly brushed it away. "Alice, I don't want this. I don't want him. There's... someone else."

"Quinn?" she asked quietly.

Frankie nodded, unable to hide the longing in her eyes. "He's... he's everything I never thought I could have. He listens to me, sees me--not as the princess, as me. And I know... I know I could be happy with him. Truly happy."

Alice squeezed her hand. "Then, my dear, you owe it to yourself to fight for that happiness."

"But how? My father would never understand. And Quinn... he's a commoner. Father would never allow that."

Alice was silent for a moment, then gave her a gentle smile. "Some things are worth the risk, Frankie. Love is one of those things."

The words lingered and stirred a flicker of hope in Frankie's heart.

~~

The grand meeting hall was dressed to the nines. Banners bearing the royal crest hung from the towering stone walls, and the crystal chandeliers cast a warm glow across the table set with gleaming silverware and fine china.

At the far end of the room, Frankie stood with her father, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. She'd been in formal attire countless times, but today her tiara felt heavier, its sharp edges pressing into her temples. She glanced at her father, who was watching the door with a look of satisfaction, and she couldn't shake the growing dread within her.

"Stand tall, Francesca," he murmured. "Today is important. The kingdom's future depends on it."

She swallowed thickly, straightening her shoulders as the doors opened to reveal Prince Edmond. He was a nobleman, that was for sure. Tall and fair, with a solemn expression and regal posture. Dressed in royal blue and silver, he carried himself with an air of practiced decorum, bowing slightly to her father before moving his gaze to Frankie.

"Princess Francesca," he greeted, extending his hand to her. His tone was formal, his words rehearsed. "It is an honour."

Frankie forced a smile and took his hand, allowing him to lead her to the table. Advisors exchanged approving glances as they sat, and her father looked on with unmistakable pride.

Dinner began, and Frankie found herself struggling to follow the stiff conversation. Edmond seemed nice enough, but he hardly spoke beyond polite small talk and formal questions. He was painfully proper, never once breaking his composure or expressing anything remotely personal.

"Princess, I hear that your kingdom is renowned for its gardens," he remarked between bites, his tone void of warmth. "I would be delighted to take a tour."

"Yes, of course," Frankie replied, trying to match his formality. "Our gardens are... nice."

She felt like a stranger in her own life. She was a performer playing a role that didn't belong to her. Every forced smile, every polite reply, drained her more. With each moment she felt herself drifting further and further from the person she was with Quinn.

She looked around the room, catching Alice's sympathetic gaze from the far end of the room. Her maid offered her a warm, encouraging smile, and Frankie felt a pang of gratitude. But even Alice's support couldn't shake the ugly feeling she had.

As the dinner dragged on, Frankie found herself longing for the forest clearing, the bustling streets of the village, and Quinn's gentle smile. She wondered what he was doing at that very moment, likely enjoying a meal with his family, laughing happily.

Just as she thought she could endure no more, the dinner came to an end. Edmond rose and gave another polite bow, his expression unreadable. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Princess Francesca. I look forward to continuing our... alliance."

"Likewise, Prince Edmond."

As people began to leave the hall, her father took her by the arm, his grip firm. He led her to a quiet corner. "You did well tonight, Francesca. Prince Edmond is an ideal match. Solid, dependable, and the alliance will secure the future of our kingdom."

Frankie wanted to protest, to tell him that there was more to life than alliances and duty, that there were things she couldn't find in a forced marriage. But she knew better than to voice those thoughts.

"Yes, Father."

"Good," he patted her on the arm. "We'll continue with the arrangements. Soon, you'll see that this was the right path."

As he left, Frankie glanced at Alice again, who had quietly made her way over. "Not quite the fairy tale, is it?" the maid mumbled.

"No, not quite."

"Come, I'll take you back to your chambers. And I've got something for you--someone left a note."

Her father's expectations and Prince Edmond's impersonal formality faded into the background as she clutched the note that Alice handed her. With trembling hands, she unfolded it, soft handwriting scrawled across the page:

Stay strong, Frankie. I'll be waiting

The words were simple, but they filled her with courage. She would stay strong. For herself. For Quinn. For the future she really wanted. She would stay strong.

~~

The moon was bright as Frankie slipped through the palace gates and made her way to the forest clearing. She needed to feel free, even if it was only for a few minutes. After hours of gross formalities, she couldn't bare the idea of returning to her chambers. She needed to see Quinn, to be near someone who saw her as more than just a bargaining piece in her father's plans.

When she reached the clearing, she found him waiting, his familiar silhouette illuminated by the glow of the moon. Quinn sat on their fallen log, staring at the stars above, lost in thought. At the sound of her footsteps, he looked up, a smile on his face.

"Frankie," he said quietly, standing to meet her. "I wasn't sure you'd come tonight."

"I had to." Without thinking, she closed the distance between them and wrapped her arms around him, seeking comfort in his embrace. Quinn barely hesitated before returning it, holding her close. She could feel his heartbeat, steady and reassuring, and she could finally breathe.

They stood like that for a while, until Frankie pulled back, looking up into his eyes. "It's hopeless, Quinn. My father has decided everything for me. There's a prince--Prince Edmond. He's the one my father has chosen for me. The one I'm suppoesed to marry."

The words tasted bitter on her tongue, and she saw Quinn's face darken, his expression pained.

"Prince Edmond. And you're just supposed to accept it? No choice?"

She shook her head. "That's the way it's always been. To my father, marriage is a contract--a way to secure power and strengthen alliances. He doesn't see it as anything more."

"So, that's it then?" Quinn looked at the ground. "You'll marry this prince, while I... I go back to being a commoner with nothing to offer you?"

The pain in his voice cut through her, and she held his hand tightly. "Quinn, please. You have to know none of that matters to me. Titles, crowns, alliances--none of it matters when I'm with you." She looked into his eyes, her voice pleading. "You're the only one who makes me feel like I'm more than a princess. With you, I can just be myself."

"But, Frankie... what can I give you that someone like him can't?"

"You've already given me everything," her voice broke. "You give me the freedom to be myself. To be... happy."

Frankie could see the conflict in his eyes, the battle between his feelings for her and his fear that he could never be enough. She could feel her heart breaking at the thought of losing him.

Finally, unable to bear the distance between them, she reached up, cupping his face in her hands as she whispered, "Please, Quinn. Don't pull away from me. Not now."

Slowly, he raised his hand, covering hers. He drew her closer, his forehead resting against hers, their breaths mixing. "I'll try, Frankie. For you... I'll try."

She leaned up, pressing her lips to his in a gentle kiss, one that quickly turned desperate. Slowly, they sank down to the forest floor, their fingers intertwined.

"Stay with me tonight?" she whispered.

"Yeah, let's forget about the rest of the world for a bit."

Just them, beneath the stars, in a world where only they existed.

~~

Frankie stood by the window, focused on the gardens below, though her mind was far from the flowers and fountains stretching across the grounds. The dinner with Prince Edmond still lingered in her head, a reminder of the life her father wanted her to live--bound by duty and sacrifice, devoid of choice. She just clung to the fragile hope that somehow, she and Quinn could find a way to be together.

She didn't hear the door open until her father's voice broke her from her daydreaming.

"Francesca, I have news."

She turned, hiding the worry that twisted her stomach.

"The negotiations with Lathora have failed," he announced, his voice clipped. "Prince Edmond's advisors were unreasonable in their demands, and I will not tolerate such arrogance, not even at the sake of an alliance."

"I see," Frankie replied, her worry replaced by excitement. "Then... there will be no alliance?"

"For now, no. But rest assured, we will find a suitable match. I will not allow this kingdom's future to remain vulnerable."

He studied her, searching for resistance, but she just nodded. She nodded like she always did when her father told her something. She nodded and it made her feel weak. "Of course, Father. I trust you'll make the best decision for the kingdom."

"Good. I have already reached out to another kingdom. Prince Trevor is well-regarded, and his kingdom is both powerful and influential. He's charming, highly capable, and exactly the sort of match we need."

And just like that, the excitement she felt dimmed. Prince Trevor. She'd heard stories of him--a confident, bold young man with a reputation for his charm. Unlike Prince Edmond, who had shown no personal interest in her, Prince Trevor was rumoured to have his own reasons for a royal match, and her father had always spoken highly of him and his father's kindgom.

"He will arrive within the week. Prepare yourself. Remember... respect and warmth befitting of a queen."

Frankie sank back onto the velvet-cushioned bench by the window. Her brief hope was dashed, replaced by dread at the thought of yet another arranged meeting, another prince who would see her as only a political prize.

"What is it, dear?" Alice slipped into the room, a freshly cleaned nightgown in her arms.

"Prince Trevor. Another visit. He's supposed to be a good... match for me."

"Another suitor already? That was fast."

Frankie nodded, a bitter laugh leaving her throat. "Apparently, the kingdom's future can't afford any delay. I thought... maybe I'd have more time between suitors. But now it's worse--this prince, Trevor... he's everything Father could want."

"Time is precious, dear. And it sounds like you'll have to make the most of what you have."

"I just wish... I wish I could talk to Quinn. He's the only one who understands."

"Then talk to him. Don't let this prince or anyone else stop you from finding what matters."

She would talk to Quinn. Make the most of the time she had--no matter what her father's plan was.

~~

Carriages rolled through the gates, flanked by royal guards. Frankie stood up straight and tall as the entourage approached. It took everything in her to maintain the mask of dutiful obedience.

In the lead carriage, a young man stepped out, tall and impeccably dressed in rich, dark fabrics embroided with the crest of another kingdom. His presence was immediately striking--confident and sharp. His blond hair caught the sun, and he wore a self-assured smile.

He crossed the courtyard easily, bowing deeply before the king. "Your Majesty. Thank you for inviting me to your kingdom. It is an honour."

"Prince Trevor," King Eric replied. "We are delighted to have you here. Please, allow me to introduce my daughter, Princess Francesca."

Frankie dipped into a small curtsy, keeping her gaze neutral. To her surprise, Trevor offered her a grin, one that felt genuine and a bit too confident. He took her hand and bowed over it, never taking his eyes off hers in way that made her feel exposed.

"Princess Francesca, I must admit, I was eager to meet you."

"Welcome, Prince Trevor. I trust your journey was pleasant?"

"It was long," he replied with a small chuckle. "But well worth it, if it means meeting such... esteemed company."

King Eric seemed pleased with the exchange, just as he had with Prince Edmond. "Good, good. Let us retire to the main hall. I trust you two will have much to discuss."

Frankie found herself side-by-side with Trevor as they followed her father, his presence uncomfortably close. The palace staff had arranged for refreshments in the main hall, where soft music played, and light filtered through the stained-glass windows.

Trevor leaned in slightly, his voice low enough for only her to hear. "I've heard many things about you, Princess. But none of them seem to capture the... charm of your presence."

Frankie didn't sense any malice in his words--if anything, he seemed genuinely interested in her. But there was a smugness, an unspoken assumption that made her wary,

"Thank you, Your Highness."

"Oh, please," he waved her off dismissively. "There's no need for such formality between us. Call me Trevor."

"Very well, Trevor."

They took their seats in the centre of the room, and as refreshments were brought in, Trevor continued talking. He talked about his kingdom, his travels, his fondness for sports, even sharing an amusing story about an ill-fated hunting trip that had everyone laughing and nodding along.

Trevor was charming--she couldn't deny that. But it was the practiced charm of someone who knew his own worth, who was accustomed to admiration. It only made her think about how different he was tha Quinn, whose honesty was comforting and not... whatever this was.

After a while, Trevor turned the conversation to Frankie. "And tell me, Princess, how do you spend your time in the palace? Surely you must find ways to escape the routine of court life."

"I do enjoy some time in the gardens and reading in the library. Occasionally, I take walks beyond the palace grounds."

"Beyond the grounds?" he raised an eyebrow. "You must be quite adventerous, then. I'm impressed."

"I enjoy the fresh air," she said simply, hoping to deflect his interest.

But Trevor grew even more curious, and he leaned closer. "Perhaps you could show me these spots. I would love to see more of the kingdom--from a local's perspective, of course."

"Perhaps," she replied, though she knew it was unlikely she would bring him to her favourite spots.

Finally, the gathering drew to a close, and Trevor turned to her. "Thank you for your time, Princess. I look forward to seeing you more during my stay." His words held an unspoken promise as he took her hand once more, pressing a kiss to it.

She forced a smile, but it was hollow. Why did her dad get a say in her life and she didn't?

~~

Quinn walked alone, his thoughts heavy. News of Prince Trevor's arrival had swept through the kingdom, carried by rumours and whispers that painted him as the perfect suitor for the beautiful Princess Francesca. Quinn had heard the villagers speak about Trevor's charm, his looks, his power. He was everything a princess could want, everything Quinn felt he was not.

He shook his head, pushing back the growing ache in his chest as he made his way to their forest clearing. He knew Frankie would be waiting for him, but he wasn't sure what he'd say. The thought of her standing beside a prince, a man who could give her the security and life she deserved, made him feel helpless. He could he compete with that?

He found her there, sitting on their log, her face lighting up when she saw him. She rose, coming to meet him, her arms reaching out to pull him close. But he took a step back, his hands tucked in his pockets, his gaze fixed on his shoes.

"Quinn?" Her voice was soft, confused. "Is everything all right?"

"Yeah, I just... I heard the news. About Prince Trevor."

She hesitated, her expression turning guarded as she nodded. "Yes, he arrived today."

Her confirmation made his fists clench in jealousy. "So, he's... he's the new one, then? The prince your father wants you to marry?"

Frankie reached out, her hand resting on his arm. "My father thinks he's the right choice. But I don't."

He shook his head, pulling his arm away, and looked past her. "Frankie, I'm not... I can't compete with him. Or with any prince. I'm just... me."

She stepped closer, reaching for his hands, her eyes pleading. "Quinn, don't say that. You're everything to me."

He let her take his hands, but his grip was loose, uncertain. "Maybe you think that now, but I'm not blind, Frankie. I know what you deserve. Someone who can give you the life you're meant to have."

"But I don't want that life. Not if it means losing you."

Quinn looked down at their hands, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. "But you deserve someone who can be by your side... someone who can stand with you, not behind you."

"Please, Quinn. Don't say that. Don't push me away."

"Frankie, I love you. I love you more than anything. But maybe... maybe loving you means letting you go. So you can have the life you were born to have."

He was saying what she'd feared all along--that he felt he wasn't enough for her, that he would only hold her back. Tears pricked at her eyes, and she could no longer keep her voice steady. "So, that's it? You're giving up on us?"

He closed his eyes for a moment, his jaw tightening. "I don't want to, but I can't ignore reality, Frankie. You're a princess. And I'm..."

"Don't," she interrupted. "Please, don't finish that sentence."

The quiet of the forest around them was thick with tension. She wanted to scream, to beg him to stay, to make him see that he was the only one for her. But his resolve was unshaken despite the pain in his eyes.

"If you leave, Quinn... I don't know what I'll do."

"I'm sorry, Frankie. I wish... I wish things were different."

He turned, his figure retreating back towards the village, and Frankie watched, tears streaming down her face as the one person she loved more than anything disappeared into the night.

~~

Frankie felt numb. She stood by the stone fountain in the garden, watching the water cascade over the edges. The fresh air did little to ease the weight of her heartbreak.

Quinn's words cut at her heart like sharp blades. She could still feel his hands in hers, see the sadness in his features as he said goodbye. How could she even begin to think about marrying someone else when her heart was in a million little pieces?

However, she couldn't afford to avoid Trevor forever, though the thought of pretending to be interested in him felt almost unbearable.

"Princess Francesca?"

Trevor walked over, his charming smile in place. She forced a polite smile, hoping it didn't look as strained as it felt.

"Prince Trevor. I didn't expect to see you out here."

He chuckled, coming to stand beside her by the fountain. "Oh, I've always been a fan of gardens. My mother keeps one back home, though I'll admit, yours puts ours to shame."

Frankie glanced at him, uncertain of how to respond. Why did he care so much?

"You looked lost in thought," he continued, studying her face. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything... important?"

"No, just... enjoying the peace."

Trevor nodded. "I suppose a princess doesn't get much of that, does she? Not with all the demands, the expectations, the responsibilities..."

She glanced at him, trying to gauge his intentions. "You seem to know a lot about it."

He shrugged, folding his hands behind his back as he looked out over the garden. "My life may be different from yours, but it's also very similar. I get what it's like to have your path laid out for you. But I've always believed that duty and happiness don't have to be mutually exclusive."

His words were well-spoken, maybe there was more to him than she'd assumed.

"Your father told me much about you, Princess," his tone dropped to a more personal level. "But I'll admit, I really didn't expect you to be so... captivating."

She tensed, feeling her face flush. "You don't know me, Prince Trevor. Not really."

"Not yet," he remained undeterred. "But I'd like to. I see something in you, Princess. A strength. A desire to be more than what others expect of you."

She wanted to tell him that he was wrong, that her heart was already spoken for, that the life she wanted was far from the one he was offering her. But she bit her tongue, knowing it would only complicate things further.

"You think you see me. But there's more to me than... strength."

"Than show me, Francesca. Show me who you are."

"I appreciate your... interest, Prince Trevor. But I don't think I'm what you're looking for."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because I... I already know who I am. And I'm afraid I may not be able to meet the expectations that you or my father have for me."

To her surprise, Trevor's smile only grew. "Perhaps that's exactly why I'm here, Princess. To help you realize that duty and desire can coexist."

She didn't respond and he gave her a respectful nod. "I'll give you time, Francesca. I'm not here to force anything--only to show you that it's possible."

With a deep sigh, she looked to the edge of the garden, where the forest stretched out for miles and miles. She wished she could run to Quinn, that she could hold him despite her world falling apart. But for now, all she could do was stand there and listen to Trevor's footsteps as he retreated back into the castle.

~~

The day had been exhausting--her father's pointed glances during the afternoon, Trevor's persistent charm, and the unshakable ache in her heart left by Quinn's absence. She was stretched thin with no clear way out.

She found Alice waiting for her in her chambers, preparing the room for the night.

"Oh my! You look exhausted! Come, sit!"

Frankie sat heavily on the edge of her bed, running a hand over her face as she struggled to keep her composure.

"What's troubling you now, Frankie? You're going to give yourself a heartattack."

Frankie was unsure of where to begin. But as she looked at Alice, the words began to spill out, her voice barely a whisper. "It's... everything, Alice. My father, Prince Trevor... and Quinn. I... I love him, Alice. But it feels like everything in the world is trying to tear us apart."

Alice nodded.

"Trevor won't give up and Father loves him. He's so certain that he can make this work, that I'll come to accept it. But I can't... I can't just pretend my heart isn't with someone else."

"And what does Quinn think of all this?"

"He... he think he's not enough. That he can't give me what I need or deserve. He said... he said maybe it would be better if we didn't see each other."

"The heart can be a stubborn thing, Frankie. It often tells us we aren't worthy of people we love most."

"But he is worthy, Alice. He's everything I could want. Kind, honest, and loves me for me and not my title."

"Be brave, Frankie. Like I've said a million times before, be brave."

"What if... what if I can't convince him?"

"Then you'll know you tried. But don't bear a life of regret."

"You're right. You're always right."

"That's what I'm here for, no? Now, get some sleep. You need it," she pulled back the blankets, a smile on her face.

"Thanks, Alice."

"Let me know how it goes," the maid winked before retreating into the hallway, leaving Frankie to figure out how to win back the love of her life.

~~

Frankie held her head in her hands. For days she had felt a deep fatigue that tugged at her bones, combined with spells of nausea and dizziness that seemed to come and go. She had tried to dismiss it, assuming it was the stress of her upcoming marriage to Prince Trevor and the heartbreak of losing Quinn.

"I always feel like I'm asking you what's wrong nowadays," Alice said, approaching with a warm cup of tea.

Frankie smiled, taking the cup in her hands. "I... I don't know, Alice. I just feel... strange. Tired, and unsteady." She paused, a wave of dizziness overcoming her, and took a sip of tea in an attempt to steady herself.

"Forgive me, but... have you considered there might be another reason for this feeling?"

Another reason? Frankie looked up, and the implications of her confidante dawned on her. She felt the room shift around her as the realization struck her like a bolt of lightning.

"Alice... you don't mean...?"

"It's possible, isn't it, dear? You've been feeling unwell, and it's not uncommon for these symptoms to appear under such... circumstances."

Frankie gasped, setting her tea aside. The memories of her night with Quinn flashed before her and her hand drifted to her abdomen.

"Alice... could I really be..." She couldn't finish the sentence. She couldn't speak it into existence.

"There's only one way to know for sure. Shall I walk down with you?"

Frankie could only nod. The palace daughter only worked a couple days a week, but luckily for her today was one of those days. Alice stood with her while the doctor moved around the room, poking and proding the princess. Eventually, he came to his conclusion.

"You're with child."

"It's true then," Frankie whispered. "I'm..."

This child was a symbol of her love for Quinn--a precious connection that bound them together. But as the joy she felt settled, it was quickly replaced by fear. What would her father say? How would he react when he learned the princess was carrying the child of a commoner?

"What am I going to do? My father... he'll be furious. He'll never accept this."

"Francesca, I know this is frightening. But this child is a part of the love that you share with Quinn. Whatever happens, you are not alone."

"What would I do without you?"

"You have the courage to face this, for you and your baby."

Frankie nodded. She would face her father, tell him the truth, and hope that somehow, he would understand. She would protect her baby--no matter the cost.

~~

Frankie took a long breath before she nodded to the butler to open the door to the throne room for her. She knew her face gave away her terror, but she had to face this moment for the sake of her child.

Her father was a solitary figure on the far side of the room. He was seated on his throne, reviewing a parchment with intense focus. He looked up, raising an eyebrow at her sudden entrance.

"Francesca. This is unexpected. What brings you here?"

Her courage wavered under his intense stare. But she felt a surge of strength at the idea that she could live a happy life with her child and Quinn. She looked her father directly in the eyes, inhaling sharply.

"Father, I need to speak with you. It's... it's important."

King Eric's eyes narrowed, his expression shifting to one of mild annoyance. "Very well, Francesca. What is it? You seem rather... grave."

"I... I have something to tell you. Something that I know you won't be pleased to hear." Her voice trembled, but she pushed on. "I am... carrying a child, Father. Quinn's child."

For a moment, she thought she saw a flicker of shock in his eyes, but it quickly vanished, replaced by a cold, piercing stare that made her feel small and insignificant.

"What did you say?"

"I am with child. The child is Quinn's. I... I love him, Father. I know this isn't what you wanted, but I had to tell you. This... is very important to me."

King Eric's hands clenched around the arms of his throne, his face growing hard with anger. He rose slowly, his gaze dark as he approached her. "Francesca," his tone was laced with fury, "do you understand what you have done? You, a princess, have disgraced this family by carrying the child of a commoner! You have risked everything I have worked to build--all for a fleeting, foolish romance!"

Tears stung her eyes, but she held her ground, unwilling to back down. "It's not foolish, Father. I love him. I want him to be part of my life."

"Love? This is not about love, Francesca. This is about duty. About securing the future of this kingdom! Do you realize the scandal this could bring upon us? The disgrace? No one can know of this--no one."

"Father, please. This baby is a part of our family. Can't you see that?"

"Leave! I don't want to speak with you about this further!"

Frankie didn't let her sobs escape her until she'd left the room, running the rest of the way to her chambers. She shoved her head in her pillow, screaming. How could he be so cruel?

~~

It had only been a day since their confrontation and her father had summoned her to his study. She tried to imagine what he could possibly want from her now, after everything he'd said.

She entered the room to find her father seated at his desk. Behind him stood two advisors and, to her surprise, Prince Trevor himself. The prince gave her a sympathetic nod as she entered, but she could sense the tension beneath his charm, as if he, too, were uncomfortable.

"Francesca. Sit."

Reluctantly, she sat across from him, stealing a glance at Trevor, who looked back at her with the same strange, calm expression. Whatever her father was about to say was definitely not going to be in her favour.

"After careful consideration, and after consulting with Prince Trevor and his advisors," the king began, "I have decided on the final plan that will secure our alliance and protect the reputation of our family."

Frankie knew whatever was coming was something monumental, something inescapable.

"You will marry Prince Trevor. And once the child is born, it will be recognized as his legitimate heir. This will satisfy the alliance and protect the throne from any scandal."

"Father... you cannot mean this," she whispered, her voice trembling. "You would have me marry someone I do not love and raise my child as if it belonged to another man?"

Trevor stepped forward. "Princess, please understand that I hold you in the highest respect. This is not a decision I take lightly, but as prince, it is my duty to my people to align with your father's wishes. It would be a... practical arrangement. One that serves us both."

Frankie looked at him, desperation filling her eyes. "And you agree to this? To pretend this child is yours? To live a lie?"

"If it means peace for our people, then yes. Sometimes duty requires us to make sacrifices."

"But this child is not yours, and I am not yours. I... I am bound to someone else, someone who loves me for who I am."

King Eric's face darkened as he listened to her protests, his patience wearing thin. "You are a princess, Francesca. Have you forgotten that? This marriage is not a matter of choice, it's a matter of duty. You will do what is expected of you."

She looked to Trevor again, but he looked away, his silence confirming his compliance. The future she'd envisioned with Quinn was slipping further and further from her grasp.

"What about my baby? What about the truth?"

"Your child will be the future heir, protected by the alliance forged through this marriage. You must set aside your personal attachments, Francesca. This is a sacrifice you will make."

Her father and Trevor had reduced her love, her future, and even her child's identity to nothing more than a means to an end. "Yes, Father. I understand."

"Good. This is for the best, Francesca. One day, you will see that."

She would not betray her love for Quinn, nor would she let her child's life be built off lies. She would find a way out.

~~

The palace was beautiful, with tapestries of gold and crimson adorning the walls and rows of white lillies lining the grand hall, their scent filling the air. Candles in chandaliers flickered above the gathered nobility and dignitaries. It was a sight fit for a royal wedding--a vision of perfection that would make any bride squeal. But Frankie only felt numb with dread.

Dressed in an ivory gown and a veil that trailed behind her like mist, she walked down the aisle on her father's arm. King Eric's face was stern but proud, as if the spectacle he had crafted would hide her sorrow. Frankie kept her head high, but her thoughts were miles away--on the life she would never have, on the man she loved, on the future that was being stolen from her.

At the end of the aisle waited Prince Trevor, standing tall in his ceremonial attire, his expression as neutral as it had been in the meeting. He, too, was playing his part in this theatre. Trevor was bound by duty.

The king's voice was low as he released her hand, a final, whispered warning. "Remember, Francesca. For the kingdom. Do what must be done."

She nodded, standing beside Trevor as the officiant began the ceremony, her gaze distant. This was the final nail in the coffin that was her life.

~~

Quinn sat hunched over a letter in his bedroom, his eyes fixed on Alice's handwriting. The truth hit him like a punch to the gut. Frankie was pregnant with his child. She had been forced into a marriage to protect the kingdom.

Setting the letter down, Quinn rose to his feet, his face pale. He couldn't let this happen. He wouldn't allow her to be trapped in a loveless marriage with his child by her side. Without another thought, he left his home, running through the streets toward the palace, each step fuelled by desperation.

~~

The officiant continued, his voice steady as he reached the vows. Frankie could feel the weight of Trevor's hand resting on hers, but the rest of her body felt numb... frozen.

Just then, the heavy doors to the grand hall swung open with a loud crash, and commotion erupted among the guards. Heads turned in shock as Quinn stormed into the room, his voice ringing out as he called her name.

"FRANKIE!"

Gasps rippled through the crowd, and the guards hurried to interept him, grabbing his arms to restrain him. But Quinn struggled against them, his eyes fixed on Frankie.

"Let me go!" he shouted. "I need to speak to her! Frankie, don't do this!"

Frankie's composure shattered as she saw him fighting against the guards. Her eyes filled with tears, "Father, please let him speak."

"Remove him. He has no place here."

The guards began to drag Quinn back, but he resisted, his voice desperate as ever. "Frankie, don't let them do this to you! You don't have to live this lie! I love you!"

Frankie felt a surge of defiance--a fierce determination to claim the life she wanted, even if it meant forsaking everything she'd ever known. But then, her father gripped her arm, his voice a harsh whisper. "Don't let him make a fool of you, Francesca. This is your duty. Your responsibility to all the people of the kingdom."

Her heart screamed for her to run with Quinn, to escape, but her father's will and the many eyes on her held her back.

"Remove him! This wedding will proceed!" King Eric's voice boomed.

"Frankie, please! You don't have to do this!"

"Let's... let's finish," she whispered.

Quinn was dragged out and the doors shut. The officiant resumed as if nothing had happened and before she knew it she was officially married to Prince Trevor.

~~

The festivities were over, and the palace was dark and quiet. Frankie was wearing the stupid white nightgown she had been forced to wear. She knew this day had been Hell. She knew Quinn was worth the sacrifices and she should've gone with him.

A soft knock sounded at her door, and Alice slipped in holding a small bundle. "It's time, my lady," she whispered with urgency.

Frankie nodded, rising from her bed and taking Alice's hands. "Thank you, Alice. I don't know how I'll ever repay you."

"You can repay me by finding happiness. Now, hurry. I've packed some things for you--just the essentials."

She draped a dark cloak over Frankie's shoulders and tucked the hood around her face, obscuring her features.

"If... if he ever asks, tell my father that this was my choice. That I left willingly."

"You've made the right choice, Princess. This child deserves a life of love and freedom--and so do you."

Frankie blinked back tears, then turned toward the narrow servant's door that Alice had left ajar. Silently, she slipped through the gardens scanning the edge of the woods for any shadows. She prayde that Quinn had received the message that Alice had sent him earlier that evening.

A figure emerged from the trees and she could've died from happiness. He moved forward, in disbelief that she was standing in front of him.

"Frankie," he whispered. "I didn't think... I thought..."

She silenced him with a kiss, her eyes filling with tears. "I couldn't stay, Quinn. I couldn't live that life, not when I knew what we could have together. I chose you. I chose us."

"We... We'll go far from here. Somewhere safe, somewhere we can be free."

"I don't care where we go, as long as we're together."

With one last look at the palace, the place she'd spent her entire life, Frankie turned her back on it, taking Quinn's hand as they disappeared into the forest, leaving behind the world of royalty and expectations. Together they were stepping into the unknown, choosing love and the promise of a new beginning.

[doberbutts]

You've spoken some about the dammage being done by breeding all breeds for a similar temperment. I feel like I've seen this too, people want a dog for the look and then want all dogs to just be companions. Are you willing to talk more about why we don't want all breeds to be chill companion dogs?

Well, I'm not really sure if I don't think all breeds should be chill companion dogs, but I do think all dogs aren't correct being so.

You have to understand, we domesticated dogs not just for companionship but also to help us accomplish tasks. And sometimes, the temperament that helps us accomplish these tasks... make it more difficult for the dog to be a do-nothing couch pet that gets maybe a walk on the weekends. It's not a bad thing, necessarily. Different strokes, different folks. But it does mean that trying to force dogs which are bred to not do that to fit into that mold is not really feasible if we also want the dogs to be able to continue doing the job we asked them to do.

A friend of mine had a great pyr, who she got from someone who kept their dogs the way pyrs are traditionally kept. Outside, with the sheep, guarding the flocks with their livestock guardian bond day and night. She got this dog as a puppy. This dog grew into an adult that was absolutely miserable in the house. Everyone's lives got a lot easier when they fenced their lot and gave the dog the option to be in or out during the day. Suddenly, the dog's annoying and destructive behavior (largely barking and also trying to get outside) disappeared practically overnight when he discovered he could just. Go outside. She had no sheep, she lived halfway to the middle of nowhere, and he was usually found just hanging out on their back porch watching the world go by around him. Occasionally barking if a car came down their driveway (like my mom's car, to drop me off at her house, because we were kids).

The problem is that the thing that makes them really, really good at guarding the sheep can also sometimes make them not so good at being house pets that sleep on the couch. He did not want to sleep on the couch. He wanted to sit outside and watch for predators so that his "sheep"- the humans inside the house- could be protected by him. To take this urge away from him, would also make him be bad at guarding sheep.

I have a Greater Swiss Mountain Dog. They, too, were bred to hang out outside all day, helping with various chores as their humans worked on the farm. Sushi's favorite activity is, you guessed it, following me around the yard as I pull weeds and rake up sticks and take a hedge trimmer to my never ending war with woody invasives. She loves when I take her to her breeder's house to chase the sheep or pull the wagon. She goes absolutely bananas in my car when we pull up to a hiking spot to go climb a mountain that day. These are things that make her a good mountain dog.

Now I actually think that Swissies are slept on but otherwise great pet dogs if their needs are met, but I have been part of swissy pet groups ever since getting Sushi and I can see when people have problems with their Swissies as a direct result of their needs not being met. Once again, barking and destruction from boredom. Dogs that throw around their body weight with zero regard to the humans involved. Dogs that refuse to recall, or that make their owners chase them down to come inside. Pulling like a freight train on leash. Chasing down and nipping at running children. These are behaviors that, while annoying in their worst forms, are often stemming directly from instincts that make them good at the job they were meant to do.

Sushi doesn't do any of those things- but then Sushi gets to do fun things that are mountain dog adjacent, so she is able to be a mountain dog without being a bad pet.

As long as we want to have dogs that have jobs, we will also have dogs that maybe don't belong in the hands of those who want chill companions. And, similarly, as long as people's idea of a pet is the most low effort dog ownership possible and anything even slightly more difficult is too much to ask, breeding these working dogs to not work will only result in dogs that can no longer work.

[blingblong55]

Until I found you-König

GN!Reader, angst, fluff

Oh, let me hold you I'll never let you go again like I did

Your relationship with König was more than amazing, he always looked forward to coming home to you. But as the missions started to pile up for him, the more he saw himself losing hope to come home safe or alive. He couldn't and wouldn't be the reason why you were sad if he were to die, so he thought that maybe if he broke up with you before one of the toughest missions he's been on, surely you'd be able to move on without him in the world.

The day that he broke up with you was nothing but painful, you were sad but also mad at him. His reasoning was not clear and all you could think about was that maybe there was someone else for him and he just didn't want you to know that. Were you not enough? Was there something wrong with the way you loved him? He definitely knew you loved him with every fibre of your being but you didn't think he was fully aware of how much love you have for him. There was a deeper reason for this, not just because he thought I'd be mean of him to leave you alone and in despair.

Two months ago he was closer to death than ever before. A bullet passed through his shoulder, it was by pure luck he never got hit. That was when reality set in for him. He can't just leave you like that. Stupid excuse for such a valid reason. And now, as he walks into the flat you two called home, your stuff is gone and the home feels colder. The colours and comfort the place brought him once, are now gone with you.

Reality set in. He let the one good thing he had in this miserable world go. If only he was as smart in love as he is on the field. What a shame. König now sits on the sofa that you two once cuddled in after he came home. What a fool was he to think he'd have you for years to come. He used to think he was at risk of getting hurt only to be the one who brought such pain to a wonderful and kind person. Couldn't he be more kind to your heart and feelings? Memories flush through, the night he got news his Oma died, you were there. Holding him close he silently cried for her. You were there the day his mum was in the hospital, calming him down, making tea and visiting his mum every week after the incident. You made sure to clean her face after every meal, made him feel comfort when he felt it was wrong to be weak and you were the one who was there the night he had the worst panic attack due to his PTSD.

Why is he such a fool?

He saw you at the park, reading a book under your favourite tree. He smiles, knowing that at least that part of you has never changed. If he is such a tough and ruthless soldier then why hasn't he gone to you and started to talk? Because he is a coward at love, not war. You laid back, jumper on your back to make the tree bark more comfortable to rest on. He used to be the one you rested on as you read. It was the one thing he loved to do in public. He was Shakespeare and you his Anne. The muse to his love and sonnets.

"Liebe?" he softly says as he finally has the courage to talk and approach you. "König." you sounded surprised. Oh, how he longed to hear your voice and the sweet sound you made when you said his name. Sweet angel, his sweet sweet angel.

Now, four years since he and you rekindled your love, you two now chase your dog around the park because the dog can't let go of the dog bone a little kid threw by accident. You are now his spouse, the one and only for a man like him. Never did he know he could feel so much for one person, yet he is there, loving, protecting and caring for you.

[adeaddogsdove]

read a fic the other day about sam and dean spending that week after john dies at bobby’s, and the sweet rottie rumsfeld being involved which got me thinking how much i headcannon sam as a dog person. hope to god i did this image of sam justice.

It’s hot and the sun beats down unforgiving as ever, but Dean spends all day out working on Baby. It’s for the car of course, because he needs the car. But it’s also so he doesn’t have to face Sam.

The heat drowns out his thoughts, turns him into some zombie that’s only goal in life is to fix the car. It makes him sick, makes his head hurt if he thinks too hard about it. He probably wouldn’t feel as sick as he does if he let Sam close enough to remind him to drink enough water.

His tan lines are starting to show from wearing an old mildewy white tank top, one that he’d found in the corner of Bobby’s laundry room. His jeans have soaked with sweat, and then dried, so they’re sticky and cool as they cling to his legs. Usually, he wouldn’t be this unclean but there’s a drought so Bobby’s been unnecessarily anxious about laundry.

It’s been four days — maybe three, maybe even five. Dean doesn’t know, the heat makes time pass in weird ways. He finds himself going out under the car early in the morning; and his body carrying him back to the house for dinner just before the sun sets. Counting days hasn’t exactly been his top priority.

Usually, the sound of Sam playing with Rumsfeld lulls him into that state. The door clinks open from across the yard, just barely audible over the sound of Dean’s music. Rumsfeld will bark at Sam once, and Sam will usually laugh. The ball gets thrown, sometimes hitting one of the cars in the yard — which usually makes Dean’s awareness flicker with urge to tease Sam for having bad aim.

But Rumsfeld clambers through the dead cars to get the ball every time, so Dean absentmindedly wonders if Sam does it on purpose just to make her work for it.

Sam will play with her like that for a while, with the occasional pause to walk down the yard in search of Dean. Which Dean knows Sam thinks he doesn’t notice. He does, he just choses to ignore or forget it most times.

She’ll lap at a bowl of water after the sound of her steps across the creaking porch, and Sam will praise her for it before going in for lunch.

Dean went in for lunch the first day they were here because Bobby was still home. Dean’s sure that the tension between the brothers is what chased him away on a ‘meet-up’ with some other hunters.

After Sam finishes lunch he either organizes shit in Bobby’s living room (Dean doesn’t know how he knows this, but the information sits in his memory like its been branded there. He gathers he’s maybe spent time looking in the window of the house from against Baby) or, Sam finds a book and comes back outside despite the raging heat.

Sam will stay there, silently, until Dean comes inside before sundown. Somehow, Sam always knows to go in just a few minutes before Dean wraps up. And then they eat dinner in silence until one goes upstairs to the guest room they used to sleep in as kids, and the other promptly takes their turn on the couch.

Today, Dean hasn’t heard the door to the house open once. Rumsfeld’s getting impatient, Dean could hear her pacing and whining.

It’s not all that abnormal, Sammy’s a big boy. He’s allowed to have freedom to do whatever he wants. But it has Dean on edge, enough to break through the barrier of his fever-dreamed haze.

He could easily barge in the house and complain about Rumsfeld whining for being the reason of asking why Sam’s not played fetch with her — to inadvertently ask what’s wrong with him, why he broke routine.

But that would take effort, and lead to a real conversation that Dean doesn’t think he’s ready for. Because’s he’s fine, he absolutely is, talking about it would only disrupt his fine state.

So he doesn’t go inside to check on Sam, he goes back under Baby and continues his work, hoping for the sun-haze to take over his brain so he stops thinking again.

It’s probably hours later when he breaks through it again, having just finished the task he set out on early that morning. He doesn’t have Sam to gage what time it is, so he doesn’t know if it’s after lunch or not.

The yard seems to be void of the sound of Rumsfeld, which makes him uneasy because the sound of her collar is always clinking with the rhythm of her pants.

Dehydration plagues his mouth, and makes him dizzy when he clears his throat. He rolls the creeper out from under Baby, and forces himself to stand. It makes his head pound unforgivingly.

Dean wipes his hand with a rag, searching the yard for Rumsfeld — who’s nowhere to be found.

He clears his throat again — immediately regretting it, then sets the rag down on the wood bench and forces himself to walk up to the house.

Minus the absolute crave for water, his stomach rumbles in hunger, angry at him for having skipped so many lunches.

He forces himself up the old creaky steps, and draws the screen door open before pushing his unwilling body into the slightly cooler house.

Dean doesn’t hear signs of Sam upon immediate entry, and he neglects to look for him until he gets to the fridge and manages a bottle of water.

The fridge feels only a few degrees cooler than the air in the house, but the water bottle he picks up cools his hand down the rest of his body like frost spreading on a late October night. He shivers in his place.

The action of unscrewing the cap and bringing the bottle to his mouth happens on instinct, and gulping down the cool liquid brings life back into his body. He groans softly, chugging the bottle down — minus a few drops that escape from his mouth and down his chin.

He pops off it with a desperate breath, crunching up the bottle and throwing it into the open paper bag on the floor next to the trash can.

Sam’s name sits heavy in the back of his throat, nearly having made it’s way out when he turns. His breath is ripped from his chest, forcing the name to die in his throat.

Sam’s asleep on the couch, Rumsfeld promptly atop him like it’s where she’s meant to be. She’s not even allowed in the house unless she’s being fed.

Sam’s limbs are too long to fit on the ugly brown couch, one of his legs is propped against an arm, and the other moulds his neck to mimic a pillow. His other leg hangs off the couch, dangles just above the surface of the old wood floors just like one of his arms.

It can’t be a restful sleep, Dean wouldn’t be comfortable sleeping like that — but Sam looks more peaceful than he’s been since he was at Stanford. The warm — clearly afternoon — sun beams in through the louvered shades, caressing his soft features just perfectly.

He’s not angry, or upset, or even happy — he’s just there. Peaceful, relaxed. Perfect. He’s perfect.

Rumsfeld covers him like a ratty blanket, drooling against one of Sam’s stupid geek shirts that he loves so much. The arm not dangling off the couch clutches her fur, just above her collar where there must be a sweet spot that she likes to be pet.

The image of Sam calling her up onto the couch, getting himself comfortable, and petting her till they both dozed fills Dean’s chest with a kind of warmth he hasn’t felt since Sammy was just a snaggletoothed sticky mess that looked up to him like Dean was the fuckin’ sun.

In this moment, Sam looks like more than just the sun. He’s fucking divine — angelic. The sun clings to his skin and his hair that looks two shades lighter — because they’re one. It finds every bit of open skin — the spot where his shirt’s been hiked up and his hip shows, his arms and neck — all scattered with gleams of pure warmth and light.

Dean doesn’t consider himself religious, threw the idea of anything but horrible away when his mom had died the way she did after reminding him night after night that their family was blessed. But Sam’s restful state, his soft and mesmerizing features almost has him on his knees.

Rumsfeld doesn’t wake, doesn’t even seem to graze the surface of a stir — she lets Dean stare. Lets him stand there and gape at the two of them.

Sam’s breathing is soft — just like Dean knows his voice would be if he took the few steps forward to wake him.

He is soft. He is delicate. He is the boy that Dean fell in love with at the age of innocent. He is nothing but perfect; even when he strays from his usual self in times of anxiety and trouble. He is everything that Dean would kill for and die for, just from a silent pleading look — and from so much less. He is Dean’s everything.

Dean doesn’t know how long he stands there, doesn’t know how long he watches Sam and Rumsfeld just breathe in their sleep, but he does until his knees and his hips ache, and until the sun shining in is turning a dark orange. He does until Sam stirs awake, softly turning in his spot to rub his eyes open just like he did when he was 10 years younger.

Dean melts at the soft mewl he lets out, and melts even further at the less soft groan when Rumsfeld turns to lay fully on her side atop him.

He can’t find it in him to move from his place, even though he suddenly feels guilty for watching Sam as long as he did.

Sam huffs at the rottie, scratching behind her ears before turning — he looks surprised to see Dean at first, his eyes flickering back and forth between him and the dog before he softens and shifts to sit up as much as he can under Rumsfeld’s weight.

“Dean,” he says gently — and it’s exactly the way Dean knew he’d sound when he woke.

“Sammy,” Dean says back — exasperated to finally speak his brother’s name, but just as supple as Sam had.

He has the urge to whisper it again, to say his brother’s name over and over like a prayer because Sammy is something that deserves to be worshipped.

He doesn’t. In fact, he stands there, unsure of what to do with himself; go up to Sam, and touch his face — whisper his name like a desperate plea, kiss him softly — or leave, let the moment be remembered and burned into Dean’s brain as how gorgeous his little brother is, with no mistake to taint it.

Sam seems to not know either, so they stay there in silence. Dean’s legs aching and screaming at him to just sit down for a minute, Sam’s messy hair and face painted with the fading sun — and Rumsfeld dozing away.

For a second, the flashes of Dean on his knees in front of that very couch feels so real he thinks he might actually be there, that he might’ve actually manned up and done what he craves so badly to do.

But then the fridge ticks, and Sam clears his throat, and Rumsfeld jolts awake, suddenly starved for her dinner.

They don’t part unkindly — Sam tears his eyes from Dean’s, and the moment ends as harmoniously as it could’ve.

Dean regrets not having gotten on his knees for his brother the moment they sit down at the uneven table for a dinner they’ve had for the last several nights.

He regrets not showing Sam how badly he worships him.

He regrets it, He regrets it, He regrets it, He regrets it.

But he can’t bring himself to change it.

They eat in silence, maybe Sam having moved on from the moment just as much as Dean had — and Dean’s still sure he can feel the still air, and the cramp in his legs, and the hunger in his belly for more than just the food promised for dinner — but instead the heavenly being that is his little brother.

They don’t talk about it, but after dinner they gravitate to the couch together — where somehow Sam ends up leaned against Dean in the way he had when they were younger and only — still — had just each other.

They don’t talk about the way that Dean slowly snakes his hand over Sam’s body to find one of his, desperately seizing the palm that is so much softer than his. They don’t talk about the implication of it, or where it would lead if they managed to take the next step — they don’t talk about the trouble of what would happen if Bobby found them like this, with Rumsfeld at their feet in the house she’s not allowed in unless she’s being fed — and with their hands, hearts and bodies intertwined.

[blackbat05]

Unexpected Refuge

Detective! Joaquin x Bookstore Owner! Reader

Plot: Your book store is a place of refuge for those seeking knowledge, and shelter?

Genre: PG-13

A/N: K-drama giving me ideas once again. Also SDCC 2024 announcements?!!! Just blew my mind🤯 Excuse me for the poor execution, really wrote this on a whim. Also realized that Joaquin was a character I wrote before I went into a mental health crisis😂 How time flies~ (Tag update because I am a nuisance: @tom-whore-dleston)

The man pants heavily as he darts into the nearest alley. Shouts of anger and thinly veiled threats were getting closer. He’s proud of his stamina but he can’t keep running away from them. He needs to recover his energy.

But where?

A light shines up ahead and without a second thought, the man races towards what could be his potential temporary safehouse.

Bang!

There were no customers inside. Just plenty of books, and a wide-eyed woman blinking at the hurricane of a man that just stormed her store.

He hurriedly digs into the inside of his coat, showing his credentials.

“I’m so sorry, my name is Joaquin Torres. I’m a Detective and it may sound crazy to you but I’m being chased by a group of Gangsters and I could really use some shelter.” His plea comes out in rapid fire.

The poor woman takes a quick look at his badge and for a brief moment, Joaquin believed that she was going to toss him to the dogs.

“This way.” She leads him further into the store and opens a latch on the floor that leads to storage. “In here!” She commands with urgency.

As soon as Joaquin is safely tucked away, she locks the latch and places stacks of books on top of it. The door flies open and the same Gangsters rowdily burst into the store. Joaquin feels a tinge of guilt. He can’t imagine how her store must be tossed upside down thanks to him.

What he didn’t expect was the woman holding her ground and demanding the Gangsters to leave as they apparently ruined one of her newest books that was just bought in.

“And stay out!” She screeches before flipping the sign to inform customers that they were closed for the day.

“Um…” The woman reverts back into her bashful form that Joaquin was amazed at her acting skills. “They’re gone. You can come out now.” The door opens and she helps Joaquin out.

“Thank you.” Joaquin doesn’t know what else to add. His shoes are suddenly very interesting.

“I thought you were lying about being a cop.” Her voice is soft and gentle, causing the insides of his stomach to do a couple of flips. “I guess not. Those guys were scary.” The tension breaks and Joaquin grins at her becoming flustered at the attention he was giving her.

“You can stay here for a while more. To make sure.” She offers.

Joaquin really wanted to. But if he didn’t get back to the precinct. Sam will have his ass.

“I would love to but my partner’s waiting for me. I should probably go.”

She nods in understanding, “Of course. Be careful.” The two walk to the door and she pops her head out to make sure that the coast was clear. She smelled like berries and vanilla.

“Coast clear, officer.”

He liked the way it sounded on her lips. He didn’t want it to be the last time.

“Um… would you like to have dinner sometime?”

She raises her eyebrows in question and Joaquin hurriedly explains, “It’s not what you think! I just wanted to thank you for today. Really. You saved my life. Not many people do that. I usually do most of the saving- I guess I should shut up now.” He observed her amused expression as he continued to ramble.

“Sure. I know a great steak place.”

***

“Hey Barnes! Torres here has a date! Any tips?” Captain Sam Wilson, loud as ever whenever he felt like heckling his best friends follows Joaquin around like a wart on his foot.

“Leave the man alone, Sam.” James Barnes gives him the middle finger. Cool blues turning to Joaquin, “Just be yourself. Everything will be fine.”

Yeah, not exactly reassuring either.

The old fashioned way it is.

Joaquin finds himself standing in front of your bookstore with a bouquet of roses in his hand. He catches your eye and you give him a sign to give you a couple more minutes as you cleaned and locked up the place for the night.

“Thanks for waiting!” You rushed out in sunflower colored dress, looking radiant. He swears his heart thumped loudly against his chest. “I was surprised to get your call.”

“Well, I made a promise.” Joaquin leads the way to the Steak Restaurant where you had the absolute time of your life chatting with the boyish detective in front of you.

“Oh my god! That really happened?” You laughed, tears forming in your eyes. “It seems to be like a recurring thing going on in your team.”

The two of you headed down the street after that sumptuous meal. Your hair is tousled all over the place and you feel like you’ve just ate a whole cow, but Joaquin doesn’t take his attention of you for a second.

As he recounts another mishap during a undercover mission with Sam, a wolf whistle rings through the air and a figure, no- three of them appear from the dark alley, each looking more menacing then the other.

Joaquin’s mind kicks into overdrive instantly and feels you tense up against beside him. He instinctively moves forward to shield you from them. But they’re not blind.

“Look who we found… Detective Joaquin Torres and oh! I see you got company.” The middle one leers at you and Joaquin has the urge to punch it off his face. You give his hand a squeeze, as if to reassure him to do whatever he needs to do to get these suckers.

As quickly and quietly as possible, you take out your pepper spray and ball your fist to conceal it from them.

“How is it that you three assholes show up at the most inconvenient timing?” Joaquin distracts them.

They smirk at each other and Joaquin lunges forward to take the middle and left man onto the ground, leaving the last as easy prey for you to pepper spray him to your heart’s content.

What you didn’t expect was the man to wildly brandish a pocket knife, nicking you in the process as he swings it around.

“Ah!” You hissed loudly, clutching your left hand. Joaquin immediately turns his attention to you and swiftly takes the third man down with ease.

He dials in a number and police cars arrive in no time to take the men away. Joaquin jogs over to you while a uniformed policewoman helps to bandage your hand.

“Let me.” He smiles and thanks his colleague for the efforts and works on finishing the job in silence. You can’t read minds, but you could guess.

“Hey, it’s not your fault.” You reassure him.

Joaquin doesn’t say anything. He lets out a small exhale. So you try again.

“In fact, I feel pretty badass. Don’t you think?” You gently pry your hand away and show him your now bandaged hand proudly, grinning from ear to ear.

“Torres!”

The Captain jogs over, giving a pat on his back. “Came as quickly as I could. Everything alright?”

“Yeah. Thanks Sam.” Joaquin reassures. Sam nods, his gaze falling onto you.

“This is the girl you couldn’t stop talking about?”

“Ok, Sam. Stop.” Joaquin pleads, trying to push him as far away from you without much success.

“He was asking me how to impress you! Hey? I didn’t get your name though!” Sam yells over his shoulder, making you laugh at their antics.

“Y/N! I’ll see you around Sam!”

“Oooh I like her already, don’t fuck up Torres.”

“Leave!” Joaquin has to push Sam into the car and makes his way back to you, looking sheepish.

“Sorry, about that. Sam can’t seem to keep his mouth shut.”

A pocket of silence fills the air and you have to know.

“You were trying to impress me?”

Joaquin blinks. He momentarily opens his mouth and comically looks like a fish out of water. “Did it work?”

“Well…” You pretend to tap your chin carefully and Joaquin squirms in his shoes a little. “You impressed me the moment you came bursting into my store seeking for shelter.”

You laugh at Joaquin’s groan. “Not the answer that I was expecting.”

You give him a peck on the cheek and Joaquin momentarily freezes. “Is that a better answer?”

He holds his hand to the cheek that you just left a kiss on. For a moment, you’re scared that you’ve fried Joaquin’s internal circuits to respond coherently. But he breaks into a foolishly but adorably big smile.

Joaquin holds you by the waist and brings you closer to him and gives you a kiss of his own that leaves you spinning senseless.

“One hundred percent.”

[blueish30]

THE STRANGE CASE OF DR. DOG AND MR. LITTLEWOOD

a life series Jekyll and Hyde rewrite

tw: mild mentioned violence

800~ words

Chapter 1

The House On Wart Street

Cleo Zombie was a lawyer, she was stoic and straight faced to most, only allowing herself a smile, and a laugh around her close peers. She wasn’t phased by much, able to ignore or be unbothered by most situations that would’ve terrified the average person. That was something she prided herself on. Don’t get her wrong, she was normally sympathetic to most situations that came her way as a lawyer, she wasn’t that cold. She was also able to make friends with some of her clients, not the ones she went to defend in court, more the ones that wanted something like a will written up. A lot were pretentious, wealthy idiots but a few were nice enough. If you treated her with respect, you got the same back.

One of Cleo’s closest friends was her cousin, Gem Tay, she was sweet, and regularly indulged in frivolous activities. Despite being on the smaller side, she was well-muscled, and had curled, fiery hair normally tied up and out of her way .Even their closest friends didn’t know how they stood one another due to their contrasting personalities. They enjoyed sitting down and talking (more so gossiping), which may be wrong in the eyes of a higher power, but it was one of Cleo’s only hobbies, if it could be called that.

During one of these talks at Cleo’s house, Gem fell silent, tilting her head in thought.

“Have I ever told you about the house? Down on Wart Street?”, Gem asked, shifting on the armchair she was sunk in. Cleo’s eyes flickered upwards in thought and her lips pulled taut into a frown. She shook her head,

“No, I don’t believe you’ve told me any story about Wart street.”.

Gem hummed,

“Well, my friend and I, you know Joel?”, Cleo just nodded before she continued, “We were taking a walk down that street, when the strangest man caught our eyes,” Gem cringed at the thought, Cleo’s brows furrowed, what had been so bad about this encounter, that the mere memory of it triggered a physical response? “He was- I can’t quite describe him well. He was short, that’s for sure, a bit stout and he was,” she cut off again to inhale a shuddering breath, “evil, I’m sure of it-“, Cleo cut her off,

“How do you know a man is evil just by appearance? After all, you and I know better than most about judgement.” Cleo racked her memory for a face she thought could be considered evil just by a glance, but there was none. Was Gem exaggerating?

“I don’t know myself,” she admitted, “but please, as friend and family, trust me, he was evil through and through.” Cleo reluctantly nodded, she believed there was at least a little good in everyone, but she trusted Gem. She continued to speak, “He was a fast walker, almost at a running pace down the pavement, Joel didn’t see him, and the two collided.” Gem paused once more, inhaling. “Instead of apologising, chastising, scolding, or even shouting at Joel, I watched as the man walked straight over him, as if he weren’t there. There was no expression, not even glee or satisfaction. Joel was shouting and yet there was no reaction, as if the man hadn’t heard him,” Gem furrowed her brows with a sigh, “I chased after him, and Joel followed once he’d recovered, when we caught up with him we argued for a good 10 minutes before he gave in-”, Cleo interrupted once more, a thoughtful look on her face.

“Were there no police around? No passerbys?” She asked. Gem shook her head.

“No, no one except for us three.” Gem said, “Which was strange, it was dark but I’d be expecting people to be walking home about that time.” Cleo just hummed, allowing Gem to conclude. “He took us to a house, overgrown with weeds and ivy, and isolated from the rest. It was just on the corner of Wart Street, it seemed in disuse, and I was convinced it was until he walked inside. The house wasn’t too large, and only had a few windows which were either boarded up, or too dirty to see into, clearly if this was his house, he didn’t care much for its upkeep. Joel and I waited outside for a few minutes, and after that, he came back out and handed us a cheque for a hundred pounds.” Cleo blinked, a hundred pounds was nothing to sniff at, even for the upper class. “However, possibly the strangest thing was, the cheque was signed by a Dr Ren. I hadn’t an idea who this was until I mentioned it to someone else, who confirmed it to be an esteemed scientist, certainly not the man we encountered.” Cleo paused. Dr Ren? Ren Dog? He was a client of her’s, and they were friends. Why on earth would Ren sign a cheque for such a horrid man?

“That’s my client,” Cleo finally said. Gem blinked and frowned as Cleo continued, “I have his will, did the man tell you his name?” Cleo asked. Gem’s head cocked and eyes drifted upwards in thought. “Mr. Littlewood, if I remember rightly.”

“How strange,” Cleo mused. The subject was dropped for the rest of the night.

[dalisman127y]

Mha girls x reader onsen trip

A/N:I had a theory that during the time that my hero academia was set, a monkey called "japanese snow monkeys" probably went extinct.

You happily sat in the water Wich was up to your chin.

You loved soaking in hot springs. Especially with your japanese snow monkey friends before they were hunted to extinction.

Just then you hear the door open and the girls of class 1A walk in.

"oh, sorry girls. I didn't know that this is the girl's bath. I'll get out" you said getting up.

"no, no. it's ok,babe" momo said getting in. "we want you to join us"

The others nod in agreement and step in.

The girls were talking about stuff while you sat on the opposite side of the hot springs.

You have memories of when you sat in hot springs with the last of the japanese snow monkeys and two of them groomed you, a male monkey with a scar on his left eye you named "scar" and a female monkey with no hair on her arms due to Mange named "swoop".

You often protect the troop with scar or collect food with swoop.

But then one day when you got home from school.

"hello? Scar? Swoop?" You said looking around for the snow monkeys. You walk thru town to find them face to fang with a pack of feral dogs. You can only watch as the dogs massacred the last of the japanese snow monkeys, one by one.

A law was then passed to never have feral dogs in their town.

They chased all the feral dogs out of the town.

You look at the fatal injuries almost all the monkeys took and you held a monkey's hand.

"NOOOOO!!!!!!" you yell and the memory ends.

You snap back to reality as toru hagakure touches your shoulder.

"hey, honey. How about you join us. You seemed lonely " toru said.

"oh, um. It's ok,toru. I like being by myself." You said sinking into the water.

"aw,C'mon, ribbit " tsuyu said swimming to you.

"ochako, do the thing" mina said

"ok" ochako said before she gives you the puppy dog eyes.

"oh,oh my god, ochako stop! no,no,no,no. " You said looking away.

She gets closer to you with her puppy dog eyes.

"d'oh all right all right all right all right! Just stop it already." You said.

You blush wildly because.

1. you're serounded by pretty girls.

2. you're feeling highly uncomfortable

And 3. It. Was. Hot!

"AHHHHHH!!!!" you screamed in your head.

"Soo, reader-chan. Was it true?" Mina asked

"what was true?" You asked.

"that you did this with japanese snow monkeys?" Ochako said.

"uhhhhh, yeah, I did." You said.

"would it be ok if we asked some questions?" Momo asked .

"oh yeah sure." You said.

"ok, first question" kyoka said "what does a japanese snow monkey look like?"

"well, a japanese snow monkey is a type of monkey who love to live in snowy areas of Japan. They have white hair and red faces. They also love hot springs. Because it keeps them warm." You said hugging yourself.

"next question" momo asked " how did the Japanese snow monkey go extinct ?"

"well, there are different ways they went extinct." You said pulling out your sketch pad.

"for example... Being exposed to the rabies virus, wildlife conflict, illegal hunting/poaching and habitat segregation all played a key roll in the extinction." You said drawing on the sketch pad.

"no one has seen a japanese snow monkey in 10 years we'd have to be very lucky to actually see one let alone a whole group." You said looking up from the sketch pad.

"well reader chan, we won't have to look very far." Tsuyu said.

"look up there!" Mina said quietly.

You turn to see a white fluffy monkey with a red face.

The monkey jumps off the fence and it walk to you.

It started to groom you.

"umm, what's it doing?" Toru asked.

"it's grooming me." You said "monkeys often groom one another"

You then noticed a similar scar over his eye.

"what the... Scar? Is that you?" You asked.

The monkey jumps for joy and hugs you.

"awwww. I missed you too,old friend." You said returning the hug. Momo sheds a tear.

"how? How did..." You asked.

Scar makes incoherent noises.

"uhhhh, what's he saying?" Jiro asked.

"he's saying.." you said translating, "my troop was ran out by a stronger troop of japanese snow monkeys. We had to move out of the forest and into the local town."

"but then we were ambushed by a pack of feral dogs. We had to go. I ordered a few of my troops to hold back the monsters so we can sneak away. And sneak away, we did. We traveled for months for a year until we found this place." You said still translating.

"I see, but why?" Momo asked.

The monkey chitters and you nod. "They were looking for me this whole time." You said hugging scar.

"awwwwwwwwwww" the girls said.

Scar climbs out of the water, and hoots.

A female monkey with no hair on her arms comes out holding two babies in her arms.

"hey, it's swoop." Jiro said.

Ochako gasps "oh my god! she has babies!!!"

"congratulations,swoop. With these babies you'll most certainly save your species" you said.

[music-viber]

Summary: Luke and his girlfriend get into the last fight of their relationship.

Warnings: Manipulation,angst,smut,language

18+

Luke had done it again. He found a way to play his his girlfriends feelings

Luke castellan x daughter of hades

She had caught him with another councilor again.

He watched as the stranger flirted with him, pushing up on him,touching his hair, as she batted her long eyelashes her little button nose crinkled at every joke he told her “your so good with your sword Luke” she heard the brunette say “I mean I try, I’m good at other things too if you’d ever wanna see that” he laughed.

She listened in she wasn’t surprised at her boyfriends behavior he was a popular Demi god. She knew how they could be and she knew guys would also kill to be with her and he treated her like a one trick pony. She knew he was tired of just kissing and going on meaningless dates because they just fought the whole time.

But she would never pay any mind to random guys just because she’s mad and because they gave her attention and trust they gave her attention. But she had always reminded them she was with Luke.

They would always be angry at each other but this was the last straw for the the girl.

She watched was the other woman now felt him up while giving him puppy dog eyes and biting her lip. He looked around to make sure nobody would see them as he threw his head back.

He obviously did see me because then he pushed her off of him. “Babe.” He said acting as if I didn’t see what was happening. “I thought you were on kitchen duty?” He asked in her face.

“I was on duty but then I wanted to come find you. See what you were up to love bug!” But it seems like you have lots of love to go around so I’ll be on my way.”

He chased after her “Odessa I swear it’s not what it looked like, she was helping me fix a broken button on my shorts. You know how it is” I just smiled and nodded. “She’s not the first girl I’ve seen fix a button castellan.” She scoffed “your so quick to let girls touch you.” He looked mad “as if you don’t let guys touch you when I’m not around?” She looked mad now “I DONT!” as she said this the grass caught fire.

She stormed away to her dorm. She got over heated her pants caught fire she stood there. I won’t let him do this bullshit again.

(Later that night)

Luke knocks her window, she was the only one in the cabin because the other campers were at the campfire celebrating the week. She looked towards her window and walks to open it. “Need something dick?” She flashed a fake smile. Luke “yeah actually. I wanted to apologize but somewhere away from the noise?” He proposed. Looking at the campers at the campfire.

She didn’t forgive him but wanted to Atleast hear him out. Okay. Let me change? *she closed her window to change into a dark red mini dress, it was hot that night. She hopped out of her window to hear him out. “I still don’t forgive you if you’re wondering Luke castellan.” She states. “I know”

They finally make it far enough in the woods. She looked at her “this is where we had our first ever date.” “It was a picnic right near that tree.” She smiled at her. It was too and she hated his smiles now because she knew there was always something behind it. It was no secret their relationship was rocky

Luke basically flirted in or out of the public eye people even thought we’ve broken up before. Why did I put up with it? Because he was the best swordsman at camp. I needed to get the gods attention somehow. And it worked, Percy Jackson had recently came to camp and got claimed by Poseidon she had already weaseled her way into being his friend because Luke was his counselor

She didn’t need to put up with this man baby for any longer and she was grateful to use the girl from this morning as her excuse.

“So what?” She stared at him blankly“It’s just a spot” she looked at him with unreadable eyes.

He scoffed “you make it so fucking difficult to be sorry for you.”

“Sorry for me? You’re a stupid son of a bitch!” I yell

Luke’s eyes widened “don’t talk about my mother”

I laughed “if I was talking about your mother I would’ve said ya mama.”

“You’re such a man whore.” I say

Luke opened his mouth to yell “I thought you were an equal rights kinda girl considering you make a whole big deal about guys calling girls bitches.”

“Oh which you’re being right now by the way.” He finished

“Did you just call me a bitch castellan?” She puts her hand on her hips after removing her earrings and tossing them.” There was a small spark of flames when she tossed the metal into a pile of leafs.

Luke didn’t wanna upset her too much because she could obviously lit his ass on fire. He couldn’t help but to look at how beautiful his girlfriend was when she was mad. “I just get jealous when guys come and talk to you all the time. I thought it was about time before you left me for one of them.”

She rolled her eyes at his sorry ass excuse

She wanted to break him