#we’ll have my sisters cat

[fandomsfreezeandcreationsburn]

❤️

[quiteunpersuadable]

Single pet household required for pet. What about single pet household for the person?

[bartxnhood]

my worst fear | t.o

tyler owens x fem!reader

based on this request: Sooooo, this is my req. You were tyler's past, thought that tyler already forgot about you when he talked to kate and all. However, he stillcare for you when the last tornado struck and he protects you and your little sister form the storm in the theater.

warnings: tornadoes, severe damage to buildings, reader and sister getting injured.

w/c: 1.6k

requests open

not proofread

Copyright © 2024 bartxnhood. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format.

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you’ve heard about the infamous ‘tornado wrangler’. your ex, tyler owens. the two of you ended things years ago, you were still living in arkansas at the time.

it was a mutual ending, you couldn’t keep up with his adrenaline-fueled dreams, chasing these nightmarish storms.

you moved states after something happened in the family and took your sister. now you were in oklahoma, where tyler was working. unusual weather patterns causing different storm-chasing crews were roam the state and happen to be in your county.

you did everything you could to keep your distance from tyler. you wanted to avoid him at all costs because you knew if you saw him, you’d realize you didn’t quite stop loving him.

“y/n!” your little sister pulls you out of your daze as she points to a stuffed cat and pulls your arm.

“is this one you want?”

she nods her bright smile could light up the whole planet. you ready for the calico-colored cat, “we’ll take this one”.

the vendor nods as you pay them, and hands you back the change. “have a good one.” they smile.

you hand the cat to your little sister as she hugs it closer to her chest, rambling nonsense. “amelia. hand.” you demand, snapping your fingers to grab her attention.

her small hand finds yours and the two of you continue looking through the vendors set up on the block.

it was a perfect day for a festival, the sun was shining and the sky was blue. you thought after a week-long run of bad storms and tornadoes was over.

so, it came as a surprise when the tornado sirens began to sound. you stop on your tracks, watching the people around you. “sissy, what’s happening?” amelia asks. you look down at her and smile, “i’m not sure, amy. stay close.” the little girl nods, holding your hand tighter.

you study the people walking around town. some of them taking off in their vehicles, others continuing their activities as if it was just another warning.

dark clouds swirled through the skies, growing darker and more ominous as the seconds passed. the winds picked up in speed and force, becoming more powerful as the storm continued to grow. thunder roared and lightning flashed, lighting up the sky in bursts of bright light.

clouds swirled in what soon became a funnel. “oh god..” you breathe, tugging at your sister. “we gotta go!” you holler.

tyler owens caught a glimpse of something familiar in the chaos caused by the storm. squinting, he noticed you and your younger sister struggling through the debris-filled streets. “y/n?!”

the sight of you struggling amid the disaster immediately sent a pang of concern through him. ignoring the past, he knew he had to help you. rushing towards you, “y/n! you need to get inside!” tyler yells over the booming crack of thunder.

“i can’t find her!” you yell back. “who?!”

“amelia! my sister. she was here and then she was just gone!” you feel your chest constricting. your heart was pounding so hard it was getting harder to breathe. you whip your head around searching for the little girl in a pink summer dress.

“you need to go inside!” tyler tries reaching for your arm to guide you to the movie theater where everyone else is. “i can’t!” you step back, “i need to find her! i can’t leave her out here.”

tyler grabs you by your shoulders, making you look at him. “y/n, go inside and get to somewhere safe. you won’t be any help out here looking for her if you get hurt. i’ll find her, go!”

he gives you a little push and you begin towards the movie theater before the storm could sweep you away. you look back, and tyler nods, assuring you that he’d find your sister.

tyler sped through the battered town, his eyes scanning the surroundings for the little girl while telling other survivors to get inside.

his boots stomp against the pavement, dodging debris and other obstacles. until, he spotted a young girl, no older than ten, struggling to make her way through the rubble-strewn streets.

her wide eyes were filled with terror as she stumbled down to her knees, calling out for her sister, you.

he hurried over to her, a mix of concern and determination on his face.

"c'mon! we have to get you somewhere safe," he called over the howling wind, extending a hand to help her up.

as he led her towards the nearby movie theater, thoughts of his past with you filled his mind, but he pushed those thoughts aside, focusing purely on getting her to safety.

inside the theater, you were scanning the room frantically. everyone in the room yelling, asking if they’d seen someone they lost. people yelling at each other to get down and take cover.

the theater shook as a loud growl could be heard outside. you look up towards the ceiling, watching it crumble.

“you need to get down!” a lady reaches for your arm and tries to push you in between the seats.

there’s a moment when it goes silent for you, everything is moving in slow motion as you look towards the exits and hear the familiar wailing of a little girl.

“oh thank god.” you cry, running towards tyler holding the little girl, and scoop her into your arms. the two of you a sobbing mess, you squeeze her tightly and look up at tyler. “thank you, thank you so much.”

he nodded, pressing his lips in a tight smile. “ty!” someone yells, running towards him. “we gotta get these people to the back, this building isn’t built for a storm like this.”

tyler looks at the surroundings and agrees with javier. he begins ushering people towards the back, “y/n, get back and stay low!” he yells her the roaring tornado.

you take amelia and hunker down between the rows of theater chairs, holding each other tightly. “close your eyes!” you hold your hand over her eyes, shielding her from any debris. you hold her close to your chest and grip onto the bottom of the chairs.

once tyler got most people to the back of the theater, tyler approached you and your little sister huddled together in the theater, the building creaking and groaning as the tornado's intensity increased.

suddenly, the wind howled louder, a vortex of air tearing through the room, threatening to rip you all apart.

in a desperate move, tyler lunged towards you, wrapping his arms fiercely around you, anchoring you to him as the winds tried to tear the two of you apart. you clung to him, her fingers digging into his shoulders as they fought against the storm's wrath.

your knuckles grip onto your sister's torso, keeping her pinned to your body.

tyler stood anxiously next to the ambulance, watching as the two sisters were being examined by the paramedics inside. he couldn't shake off the sense of protectiveness he felt towards you, even after all these years.

“sit still, hun.” you coo, rubbing her shoulders as the paramedics take her vitals.

as you glanced out of the back of the ambulance, your eyes locked with his for a brief moment. tyler's heart skipped a beat, and he realized that his old feelings for you had never truly faded away, no matter how much he tried to deny it.

“can you watch her for a second?” you as the woman, tending to amelia.

“where you goin?” amelia asks, reaching for your arm. “i gotta go talk to a friend, amy. i’ll be right back.” you press a kiss into her hair and walk over to the man.

“she’s grown up,” tyler says as you stand next to him.

“yup.” you reply, letting a comfortable silence fill the air.

“how old is she?” he asks.

“seven. she just had a birthday last week”

“wow.” tyler rests his hands on his hips, recalling how little she was when the two of you were dating.

“thank you. sincerely. i don’t know what i would’ve done if..” you trail off, covering your eyes unable to finish the sentence.

“shh.” he pulls you into his side, soothing your worries. “don’t think like that. just glad i was here when i was.”

you wrap an arm around his torso, leaning into his side.

despite the years that had passed since the breakup, the sight of tyler had stirred up a mixture of emotions. seeing him again brought back memories – good and bad – that were tinged with a touch of nostalgia.

what surprised you most, however, was the realization that those old feelings for him hadn't faded as much as you believed.

“thank you, tyler. genuinely” you repeat, wiping your eyes. “of course.” he smiles, looking down at you.

“go get checked. that cut looks bad” he suggests, examining the cut on your forehead. “i will.” you smile, watching as your sister hops down from the ambulance and runs towards you.

you bend down and scoop her into your arms, resting her on your hip. “did you tell mister owens ‘thank you’?” you ask amelia, who tries to hide behind your hair.

“thank you, mister owens” she says, bashfully.

“anytime, darlin.” he gently pats the girls arm. “i’ll catch yall later” he says, taking a few steps back but you stop him.

“tyler, do you want to come over for dinner?” you ask.

tyler stops in his tracks, turning back to face you. a huge grin forming on his face. “i’d love that”

[cressidagrey]

Lightning in a Bottle - Chapter 3

Summary: 

Eira Archeron was neither a Valkyrie, nor a Seer, nor the High Lady of the Night Court. She was actually pretty much useless. The only thing she wanted was to be somebody's first choice for once in her life.

Also known as: Azriel's shadows decide that if he doesn't treat his mate right... they'll just do it for him.

Warnings: 

Stabbing, Azriel unalives somebody that really had it coming, Death by being put on fire

(super pretty dividers by @tsunami-of-tears)

*If you keep glaring at Keir like that we are never getting anywhere,* Rhys said into his mind, some amusement bleeding into his voice. 

*I think he’s trying to waste your time on purpose,* Azriel responded with a scowl. 

 The shadows hadn’t picked up anything out of the usual…but that didn’t mean anything…even Keir could manage to hide something if he really wanted to…and he did want to, Azriel thought. 

He wasn’t sure yet what…but there was something. There must be something. 

This meeting was utterly useless, was slowly turning into needless sniping at each other and Azriel didn’t like it…it felt like Keir was just trying to keep them in place for longer. 

The question was just for what? 

It made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up like a cat…the feeling that something…something was…not quite right, that he couldn't put his finger on…

He hated that feeling. Azriel much preferred it, when he got all the facts… when he could make plans and plans for his plans…

But he couldn’t…and he was still stuck with being in the Hewn City and not in Velaris.

*Cassian is thinking the same,* Rhys responded with a sigh. *We’ll give it another hour. Don’t worry, we'll be back in Velaris soon enough,* he teased Azriel lightly. Rhys must have caught one of his thoughts. *Give Feyre some time and then you can go get your girl.*

An easy promise given. 

*Not my girl,* Azriel gave back immediately. *Not yet. Not…* Not until she wanted to be. Not until she knew the truth and…

*She won’t turn you down, Az,* Rhys said quietly, sussing out what was really bothering him immediately. 

But what if she did? Eira had every reason in the book to turn him down. Starting with his ill-thought-out pursuit of her actual twin sister to the simple fact of who he was…

She had every reason to tell him to fuck off to the continent because she never wanted to see him again. Granted, he highly doubted she would do that…he had never heard as much as a curse word out of her mouth. 

She had been raised as the daughter of a wealthy merchant, and clearly, that’s how she carried herself, even after everything had happened. 

At least she had clung to that bit of her human life.

*She has every reason to,* Azriel disagreed quietly.  Every reason to turn him down. Regardless of what he wished for…every reason not to be interested. 

What if she wanted to cling to even more of her human life? If the wings that he sprouted from his back were a step too far for her…if the scars that marred his hands were…

Or what if she simply didn’t want him? That would be a valid choice too and he would accept that. 

Of course, he would. 

He never wanted to force her into anything that she didn’t want. 

So what if she hated him? 

*She won't and she doesn't,* Rhys disagreed sharply. *Azriel, Mor was right,” his brother told him pointedly. “Eira has been having a crush on you for years. She’ll probably be ecstatic and immediately start planning your wedding…Maybe Elain can lend her all her wedding binders,” Rhys teased him. 

He bit back a smile at that. Maybe…maybe… He wished for that. He wished that would be…

Whatever she wanted. She wanted a big wedding? He would suffer through that, just for the chance of seeing her happy. Just for her smiling at him…not as painfully polite as she had been last evening but bright and happy and unbridled…He wanted to see that. 

He wanted to see all of that. 

But he pushed that thought away.  

*I am intrigued and terrified by what is actually in these binders,* Azriel admitted drily. *Even you didn’t have that many when you were planning Nesta and Cassian’s mating ceremony.*

*Helion is overcompensating,* Rhys quipped, though they both knew that it probably was the truth. 

After everything had gone down in Autumn, ending with a dead Beron, High Lord Eris and Lucien Vanserra officially becoming Lucien Spell-Cleaver…well.

*I owe you an apology,* Rhys said at that moment, and Azriel stared at his brother, who was listening to Keir with a bored expression on his face. *I did only want…the best for you that solstice but how I went around it…that wasn’t particularly nice to you.*

*Actually I owe you my gratitude,* Azriel said drily. *I didn’t want to hear it then…but I was…I wasn’t in love with Elain. I was…infatuated,* he admitted. *I was jealous of you and Cassian and that…that clouded my judgement. It could have ended very badly if you didn’t intervene.*

Very badly. A Blood Duel would have been their smallest problem then. 

*It could have,* Rhys agreed. *That’s why I interfered in the first place…But I still hurt you in that moment, and I wish I hadn’t.*

*If I keep behaving like an idiot you have my full permission to call me out on it,* Azriel gave back with a sigh. 

*Then stop thinking like you don’t deserve her,* Rhys said with a mental eye roll. 

*Sure, I’ll stop once you stop thinking the same about Feyre,* he shot back. Rhys would have retorted, but he was beaten to it. 

The shadows came suddenly, in a frenzy whispering in his ear, voices hurried and panicking: Master, Master you need to come NOW!

*What’s wrong?* Rhys demanded, just as that dormant bond in his chest was flooded with pure, undiluted terror.  

The Princeling and our Mate! 

*Eira and Nyx,* he choked out. The shadows already grasped him, before Rhys’ mental order could fully reach him.  

*GO!*

They dragged him out of Hewn City, into Velaris.

The ground he hit was scorched. 

That was the first thing he realised. 

Magic crackled in the air, thick and furious, untrained and uncontrolled…that was the second. 

Nyx had one specific playground he loved…one where Azriel knew members of their family often brought him to…with swings that he adored…

It was a place of happiness…of children laughing…of Velaris at its best…

Now…now it was a scorched wasteland. 

The swings? Gone. The smell of burning human flesh in the air, making his stomach twist, eyes tracking over the carnage. 

At least two dead…difficult to say because their bodies were burned…beyond recognition.

One more dead…mouth open in a silent scream…  One…one male held by his shadows, bearing him down onto the ground…and then, right in the middle of that carnage… in a heap on the ground…

The high-pitched crying of Nyx reached his ears, covered by the unmoving body of Eira. 

Azriel had thought that panic had been burned out of him centuries ago. He was taught something better that morning. Because it was panic that flooded his veins. Panic and Terror and…a thousand other things. 

*I need Mor! And Madja!* he snapped along the mental connection to Rhys, already hurling for both of them…sliding onto his knees as he so very carefully touched Eira’s body, feeling the delicate bones underneath his fingertips, a near unseen tremble, the smell of acrid blood clinging to her, layering over her scent. 

She had always smelled like snowdrops to him. Snowdrops and almonds and a crackling hearth. 

Now the blood…the blood…He turned her around, getting no reaction, finding Nyx safe and sound tucked underneath her, crying, his little face red and splotchy as he sobbed. 

*AZRIEL!?* Rhys demanded. 

*Nyx is fine. Not a scratch.* 

All he managed…as he finally saw the scarlet red dripping down onto Nyx…smeared all over him…and then he saw the handle of that dagger protruding from Eira’s limp form. 

Blood. Her blood. 

“Ra! Ra! Ra!” Nyx gargled, just as he finally managed to slap a patch of his killing power around that knife, keeping it steady. He didn’t pull it out, knowing that that could kill her…even when the blood that oozed out around it was starkly black in places…and he could smell the scent of…something burning in the back of his throat. 

Poison. That knife had been poisoned. 

A curse left his mouth at that. 

That wasn't good. That was everything but good. 

*Eira?* Rhys demanded at that moment. 

*Stabbed.*

The connection went silent, just as the booming sound of Morrigan winnowing went in beside him. 

“Az?”

“She needs Madja. Now,” he bit out. “Take them both.”

Safe. Safe. 

He needed her safe. And then he needed…

He leaned down, picking up one limp hand and pressing a kiss against it, her skin clammy and grey…even when he could feel her pulse thrumming underneath the thin skin on the back of her wrist... He breathed in snowdrops and almonds and sweetness...and then let go, because if he didn't...he never would. He would lie right down next to her, waiting for his demise. 

He grasped Truthteller without even thinking about it, as he stalked across the ground towards the one sole survivor. The shadows jerked him up, and Azriel grabbed hold of his throat. 

“What. Did. You. Do?!” he growled. What had they done to Eira?  To his mate?

“I…we…just the Prince…Grab the Prince. No matter the cost,” the male garbled out, the acrid smell of urine hitting his nostrils and only now Azriel took in the black uniform. 

Darkbringer. 

Court of Nightmares. Keir. 

Suddenly… it all made sense. It came together. The secret Keir had been keeping. It was so clear now. 

“Who hired you?!” Azriel spat out, wanting a verbal answer before…before... 

“The Steward!” 

And that’s all he needed to hear, before he drove Truthteller into him, into the exact same place where they had stabbed Eira…not immediately killing him, but seeing his eyes widen, seeing the realisation set in….the pained scream escaping him. 

“She’s mine,” Azriel whispered. “Mine. And you hurt her. You hunted her.” Like a game. Like an animal. 

She was his. His mate. 

And Azriel hadn’t been there to protect her.  He hadn’t been there for any of this…

“Lightning,” the male choked, blood bubbling on his lips. *She…killed…lightning.”

He didn't care what the male told him. It didn't matter. None of this mattered. 

The only thing that mattered was her. 

He watched as the light dimmed in his eyes, feeling a sick sense of satisfaction that he at least had gotten to do this. At least…

*It was Keir,* Rhys said into his mind, his voice deathly quiet.  *He…He ordered…*

*He wanted Nyx,*  Azriel agreed, pulling Truthteller out of the body, letting the male fall to the ground, wiping the blade on his trousers. 

*How many did you kill?* Rhys asked. No judgment. He could have slaughtered three dozen and Rhys wouldn’t have cared at that moment. 

*One.*

He could feel Rhys’ surprise. Then: *He said he sent 4.*

*Two were burned beyond recognition,* Azriel explained. *Another is dead, but still recognisable. I do not know how he died. The whole ground is charred. Scorched.*

A second later…Rhys and Cassian appeared, winnowing in from Hewn City. He imagined that Feyre had gone straight to their son.  Cassian took one look around at the ground, the carnage…the…

“Fuck,” he breathed. “Mor took Nyx and Eira?” he asked and Azriel forced a nod, feeling for that golden thread bound around his rib…wished he would get something, anything from her…

“She shielded him with her body,” he said nearly tonelessly. “He was smeared in her blood because she shielded him.”

Even stabbed, even feeling like she was going to die…Eira had done everything to shield her nephew. Had used her own body to keep him safe. Had protected him with her life. 

Azriel had never doubted that she loved him…but it still…she must not have even hesitated. Just done it.

She was a slip of a girl, with no combat training…and she had faced four of the Court of Nightmare's most elite soldiers and laid down her life if that meant that Nyx would be safe. 

He had seen grown Illyrian Warriors that would have tucked tails and run in this situation. 

Outnumbered…Outpowered. And still, she had stood her ground. 

“What happened here?” Cassian asked as he checked the other recognisable body. 

“They must have surprised her,” Rhys said, his voice shaking. “She thought they were safe. We thought they were safe…”

And they hadn’t been. They hadn’t been safe. 

At all. 

Death had been brought right to their doorstep in Velaris. 

“How did he die?” Rhys demanded from Cassian. 

“He was struck by lightning,” Cassian responded drily. “I have seen this before…on a cow though. It would also explain the scorched ground. If lightning hits the ground, it makes a pattern like that.”

What?

Lightning?

He looked up to the sky. It was a beautiful summer’s day. Not a trace of a storm…anywhere. 

“Do you think it was Nyx?” Cassian asked quietly but Rhys shook his head. 

“I have never seen anybody channel lightning,” Rhys answered, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Never. I…” Neither had Azriel.  “He’s too young to channel magic like that.”

But was he? In a situation like that? When he had just tried to protect Eira? and himself? Maybe even at 1-year-old Nyx had recognised what…what would happen if he didn’t protect himself. Maybe it had been pure instinct on his part…Maybe he had seen Eira fall and that had been…

Eira. 

He reached for that bond again, feeling it tremble and he hung onto it with all his might, clenching his teeth. 

He…

He had failed her, hadn’t he? It should have never come that far. It should have never…It should have never…

Azriel should have been the one taking that knife to the chest, not her. 

“Clearly not,” Cassian disagreed with a snort. “He’s your son,” Cassian pointed out drily. “He’s Feyre’s son…who knows what he has inherited from her.”

Rhys stayed rooted in one spot, blinking once. 

“Rhys?” Cassian asked immediately. 

“Get Nesta,” he ordered Cassian. “We are needed at the River House.” And then after a second that felt like eternity…“It’s not…It’s not looking good.”

And with one sentence…everything crumbled. 

[gh0stsp1d3r]

Rafe’s revenge worked

Might make a part 3?

pt 1

Warnings: lying, slight manipulation, mentions of sex

You unlocked the door to the chateau, your heart pounding at the afterthought of what you just did.

You had sex with your brothers enemy.

The 2000 dollars sat heavy in your pocket, you had no clue what type of excuse you would make for having it.

You went to the kitchen, grabbing a glass and filling it with water. You downed the water, and when you turned around John B stood in front of you.

“Where were you?” He asked, leaning against the wall, asking as if he didn’t know the answer.

“Work… it’s Monday.” You said, as if it was obvious.

“What took you so long?”

“I stayed a little longer helping close up. It’s not that serious.” You shrugged, attempting to push past him.

“Don’t bullshit me.” He held his hand out, stopping you from walking away.

“What are you talking about? Are you drunk or something?” You scoffed.

“I know you were with Rafe, and I know you had sex with him.”

Your face dropped and your heart pounded. John B pulled out his phone, opening up the audio and shoving it in your face.

“I- I didn’t! That’s not even me!” You tried to defend yourself.

He then pulled out another picture, of Rafe standing with a giant smile and the apron with your name on it in his hands.

You looked down at your waist, fuck. You must’ve forgotten it.

“John B-“

He scrolled through the messages more, the conversation between the both of them proof.

“I’m sorry, JB, I’m sorry-“ tears started to fall down your face.

He sighed.

“I- I think you should leave for a couple days, y/n.”

“W-what? You’re kicking me out? Over this shit?”

“He- he- he tried to kill me, and my friends! I’m sorry, y/n. Go… pack your stuff and stay with one of your friends. Only for a little. Okay?”

You wordlessly went to your room, grabbing bags and shoving things in there.

“We can talk when you get back. I- I just can’t right now.” He told you as he followed you into your room,

He stuttered your name out when he walked onto the patio behind you, but you didn’t even look at him as you went outside, sobbing and walking. It was dark out, dangerous, and cold. You shivered as you walked through the cut.

“Oh shittt, look what the cat dragged in.” Kelce nudged Rafe. He had shown, and boasted to all his friends about you. Rafe turned his head, looking at your distraught figure.

“No shit.” Rafe scoffed, leaning out his car window and whistling to get your attention from the other side of the road.

You snapped your head over there, your eyes widening. You stormed up to him.

“Oh, shit, someone’s ready for round t-“

You punched him, square in the face. He groaned, and chuckled at it, and before you could do anything else he jumped out the car.

“The fuck was that for?”

“You’re such an asshole! You ruined my fuckin’ life! I got kicked out, and- and now I have to see your stupid fucking face again!” You hit his chest, him just having a smirk on his face the whole time.

“Oh, shit. I’m… sorry. How’d your brother take it?” He asked in faux pity, slowly wrapping his arms around you and looking over to Kelce in the car with a grin.

“He’s pissed!” You sobbed into his chest. “And he’s upset, and he- he-“

“Shh. Shhh. It’s alright. Uh.. if you want, you could hang at mines for a couple of days.”

“No. I’m just gonna-“ you pushed him off of you, realizing who it was again.

“C’mon, it’s cold, you’re literally shivering! I got blankets and shit in the car. You can’t walk all the way there.”

“Rafe, I can’t-“

“Think of it as my apology. Please. I feel.. just so bad. And… I just want you to stay, just for a couple days. Think of it, we’ll have the house to ourselves for days. My dad’s on some trip with my stepmom, Sarah’s hanging out with your brother” he said it with a tinge of bitterness, making you suspicious.

“and my other one is at her friends.”

“Did you-“ you sniffled. “Did you fuck me because your sister got with my brother?” You asked him, catching onto the distaste he had about it.

“What? Course not. What type of crazy shit is that?” He scoffed. Yea, that’s exactly what he did.

“Fine.” You mumbled when you felt another breeze blow past, the cold making you shiver again.

“Poor thing.” Rafe mumbled as he opened the door, motioning for you to get in the back.

“Here.” Rafe threw his jacket at you, you taking it and quickly pulling it over your shoulders.

Kelce looked at him with a knowing look, and Rafe held his hands up in mock defense, turning the car on again.

——

@sublimepenguinpeach-blog @haruvalentine4321 @theoraekenslover @ilovemensomuchagh

[sinnersweets]

DogDay x Reader part 2

A/N: Highly requested so here you guys go! Enjoy!

<----part 1 part 3---->

DogDay led me outside of the Playhouse and back outside into Playcare. A few feet in front of us was a chicken. A tall yellow chicken. Ah, that must have been KickinChicken. “Hiya KC!” DogDay was still holding my hand but with his other he waved extremely fast to KickinChicken. “Sup DD! Hey, finally got yourself a helper now huh? ‘Bout time dude.” KickinChicken then handed off the kids too, I’m assuming his helper. His helper also matched him as well. Guess that was the uniform for us working with these...tall animal mascots.  

Kickinchicken walked up to me and DogDay. “Names Kickinchicken, the cool member of the Smiling Critters.” DogDay laughed when he said that. “Go on Angel, introduce yourself.” I wasn’t used to seeing animals so tall, it scared me a little. I held out my free hand to KickenChicken and summoned some courage to talk.  

“Hello, I’m Y/N or Angel, doesn’t really matter what you call me. Nice to meet you.” KickenChicken then slapped my hand with his and started to make a handshake with me. I mirrored his movements to understand this new handshake I was given. “Haha, she’s pretty cool DD, you got yourself a rad helper.” He then looked at me up and down. “Not bad looking either.” KickenChicken smiled at me. I was going to comment on that, but DogDay beat me too it. “Look at the time! You better hurry along to your group now KC, don’t want our little friends upset now do we?” “Right, well nice meeting ya Y/N, we’ll chat later.” he spoke as he walked back to his group and helper. DogDay squeezed my hand a bit before leading us to the center of Playcare. “On with the tour!” 

--------------- 

DogDay first showed me the statue in the center. It was all the Smiling Critters. There were eight of them in total: DogDay the leader, Bobby Bearhug the loving one, KickenChicken was the cool one, Hoppy Hopscotch the energetic one, CraftyCorn was the artist in the group, Bubba Bubbaphant the smart one, PickyPiggy the foodie, and lastly there was CatNap, DogDays bestest friend. He supposably makes sure that everyone else gets a good night's rest every day to ensure that they are ready for the next day.  

Next, we went into the Toy Store. DogDay was tall, so he had to walk on all fours. “This is where the children can come and buy some sweet toys of yours truly, and the others!” I smiled and looked around. Sure enough there were plushies of DogDay and the rest of the group. There were also some other toys like a blue limp doll, a dinosaur that matched the lamps outside, what looked like a cat and a bee mixed, and other toys. I picked up a smaller version of DogDay and looked at it. “You said the kids buy these?” “Uh-huh! We give them play money to use around here, that way when they get adopted, they’ll know about the real world and how to manage their expenses.” That was smart of them. I set the plushie back down and followed DogDay outside. 

We then looked at the consoler's office and school. DogDay told me that the consolers office was where the staff would put their belongings in and where parents would go to adopt a child. Only DogDay was allowed in the consoler's office, none of the other Smiling Critters could go in there. I’m not sure why but I didn’t question it. “The school is where the children spend most of their time. I’d take you inside so you could meet Miss Delight and her sisters, but I wouldn’t want to interrupt her teachings.” “That’s okay, I’m sure I’ll get to meet them one day.”  

--------------- 

It was now naptime for the children which meant that the Smiling Critters could step away and hang out all together and just relax. I was in the consolers office to check out my assigned office. Each helper had their own office to get away to when needed. Outside my door was a card that had ‘Welcome’ on the front. I picked it up and walked into my new office. I took a look around, nice office, however what stuck out to me was the big dog bed in the corner.  

I was about to walk over to it until I heard a knock at the door. I set down the card and opened the door, but no one was there. Suddenly DogDays head popped out from the side. “Hiya Angel!” “Ah-” I fell back in shock. As I laid on the floor DogDay hovered over me with a worried expression, his sun pendant laid against my chest. “Angel?! Oh gosh I’m so sorry! Are you okay??!” I did a double-blink and then slowly sat up. “Yeah, I’m fine, I just wasn’t expecting that at all.” DogDay then held out a paw towards me to help me to my feet. I took his paw into my hand and once my hand met his paw his tail started to wag. He pulled me up to my feet and got close to me.   I wasn't used to being this close to anyone, let alone a giant dog so I started to blush. This caught DogDays attention. “Angel your face is really red, are you sick?” I was starting to feel bad, not physically but mentally. I didn’t want him to be worried about me. “I-I’m fine! Really DogDay. So, um what brings you by?” I wanted to change the subject as fast as possible. DogDay then smiled and leaned away from me. “I wanted to see if you liked the card we made!” I went to my desk, picked up the card and opened it. ‘Welcome newest helper, we hope that this job brings you happiness and joy as we do to our children here. We look forward to working with you, signed everyone.’ I did like the letter. 

--------------- 

Me and DogDay started chatting for a while until out of nowhere, I yawned. “Oh my, sorry about that.” Guess I was starting to get a bit tired. “That’s okay Angel. There’s thirty minutes left of nap time; you should rest up!” A power nap did sound good. I nodded and told DogDay that he should go back to his friends, but he shook his head no and picked me up and walked over to the dog bed in the corner. Should’ve known it was his.  

“I’d rather spend my free time with you Angel, plus as your boss you have no say.” He stuck his tongue out and booped my nose with his paw. My face got warm again. He then laid down on his bed and laid me in between his front paws. “You can rest with me Angel; I’ve been told that I’m a very fluffy pillow.” He was very soft and the smell of vanilla on him was almost like a drug to put you to sleep, and it was working. I yawned once more and closed my eyes. DogDays head rested near me. “Rest well my Angel.” was the last thing I heard before drifting off to sleep.  

A/N: Thank you for reading!

[81folklore]

as good as new - AA23

pairings: alex albon x ex!girlfriend!reader (fc: quarterjade)

summary: alex soft launches his ex girlfriend after they find eachother again

type: social media au (smau)

authors note: ok so welcome to the start of the voulez-vous fic list! i hope this makes sense but incase it doesnt, alex and yn used to be dating before they split due to just growing apart, but they were meant to be😁

authors note 2: kinda rushed at the end so sorry about that! got a couple of requests to work on so ill try and get them done along with this fic list! and you cant still join the taglist!!

voulez-vous main masterlist

yourusername

liked by alex_albon, brookeabb and 122,268 others

happy new years!!🥂

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user7 happy new year gorgeous!!

yourfriend2 SHINING SHIMMERING SPLENDIDDDD

brookeab SHE IS SO FINE AND SO CUTE AND PRETTY AND LOVELY

user82 JAW IS ON THE FLOOR??

user90 im so in love with you

user26 GET IN LINE

user38 so so so so stunning

twitter

alex_albon

liked by williamsracing, yourusername and 253,080 others

last dump of the year🇦🇪

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williamsracing see you next year king🫡

user84 yn liking :’)

user9 THE FIFTH PIC?!

user47 is that..shirtless alex

user83 WHOS HOLDING THE BOX??

user97 technically its already 2024 but we’ll let it slide

user55 imagine its yn in the 5th pic..

user1 can we not? 1. its none of our business and 2. alex can move on and imagine being that girl and seeing people think its her bfs ex like..

yourusername

liked by pokimanelol, alex_albon and 92,389 others

me and my boy ⭐️

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tinakitten CUTE AS HECK!!

yourfriend4 i miss him☹️

yourusername even though he hates you??

yourfriend4 he doesnt hate me, just not fond!!

user77 whos that in the second slide👀

user52 no tag either🤨

user13 moms weekend with the kids i see

user9 does alex get weekends? i thought the cats were yns?

user2 tbh we have no idea, i assumed he did but maybe not🤷‍♀️

user26 so so cute!! we need more pics of you and genji!!

alex_albon added to their story

caption:☀️🐈

replies

user66 GENJI AND MABEL!!

user73 we missed them :’)

user8 oh how i love cat dad alex

twitter

alex_albon • mallorca

liked by jensonbutton, yourusername and 293,286 others

me gusta la playa

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user4 THE CENSORSHIP??

user89 three shirtless pics?? someone call george

georgerussell63 someones coming for my brand🤣

user9 the softlaunch..oh im losing my mind

user33 yn liking alexs softlaunch post..shes checking up on the ex😭

user12 ran into george and lando in the last pic

user1 alex is so hot😮‍💨

user912 alex is FEEDING us at the moment

yourusername • mallorca

liked by alex_albon, carmenmundt and 182,196 others

sorry cant talk rn im too busy being hot

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carmenmundt absolute beauty💞🫶

user94 I CAN TREAT YOU SO WELL

user63 so so gorgeous

user9 alex and yn both being in mallorca and alex softlaunching..

user111 you are a dream

twitter

yourusername

liked by alex_albon, landonorris and 210,692 others

darling, we were always meant to stay together💫

i was searching for photos to post and decided on 6 that really showed my life these past months

1. a photo on the first day i went out after we split, i felt lost and alone and decided to start documenting my journey alone

2. this is a photo i took when i went home and felt peace for the first time since our break

3. a selfie we took in the taxi after our ‘first date’. we met up for the first time since, and spoke about our feelings and decided to start taking things slow

4. a day out with you and my sister, i felt so happy knowing i had the two most important people with me again

5. our first holiday, this will always mean alot to me. we both said i love you for the first time, we spent all day, every day together just loving and holding each other

6. we were leaving and instead of being sad we knew that this part of our life wasnt over but instead we were moving on to bigger and better things

i love you so much and im so thankful that i have someone has caring and loving as you

tagged alex_albon

view comments

alex_albon just like it used to be and even better🌟

alex_albon i love you so so much

alex_albon i promise to love you forever and ever

yourusername my loveliest boy

user71 THEYRE BACK

yourusername AND BETTER THAN EVER BABY

user111 MY FAVORITES

user9 i didnt read the caption and experienced genuine shock when i saw alex

user8 so proper just say you were shocked😭

user88 i need everything to apologize to mads RIGHT NOW

user61 all the hate on her WHEN SHE WAS RIGHT

taglist: @smartstupyd

[ma1dita]

when the curtains close

a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: 5.3k

summary: (post-tlt) The one where you lose two people in the Labyrinth that day. All strings are cut. (Pollux, Annabeth, Percy, and Mr. D find out the biggest difference between you and Luke.) (Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader)

a/n: yeah to me this fic sounds and feels like that tiktok of the girl humming to her microwave. split povs: pollux, annabeth, your depictions of the titular battle of the labyrinth at CHB, some blood/gore, death & grief. the usual. you forced me to by lizzy mcalpine. references to cat on a hot tin roof by tennessee williams if you squint

(posted 5/14/24)

—

The first time Pollux has a panic attack, time seems to stop and the world keeps moving on without him.

He’s reminded of a time when you rambled on about how anxiety takes possession of the senses like a moment frozen in a snapshot meant for you to identify. In the memory, you had your feet kicked up on the dash flipping through a DSM-5 while he and Castor took turns speeding up and down Farm Road (totally normal older sister behavior from you, and when a cop pulled you over, the three of you narrowly escaped a ticket by talking in riddles and godly smoke that smelled like grapes). Pollux still remembers the sound of laughter in the car blending like three different chords to an archaic melody (or squawking crows in the strawberry fields)— the bond between you three laid out before time knew limits and was always meant to be.

It’s still his favorite song. You’re their favorite (and only) sister, they love to joke. These are facts that will never change.

“You two have each other, and well, I’ve got this,” you had said, the Zippo flicking open and closed against your thumb in the blossoming darkness of the car. Pink and purple rays of waning light blanketed the old hatchback as it steadily made its way back towards Half-Blood Hill, comfortable silence shared in the way only siblings can stand to be quiet—when there are no words needed to get a point across. But you’ve always set yourself apart from the pack, not needing anyone like how they need each other.

Not since Luke left, at least. The growing distance between you three since your untimely resignation from camp was proof enough. Pollux’s eyes met Castor’s in the rearview mirror as they both noticed your sad smile. His brother’s voice broke through the silence then, having always been the one blunt enough to say what was on his mind, “You’ve got us too if you let us see you more often.” Your fidgeting stops.

“It’s not you two, it’s just hard to be back here sometimes. I see things for what they used to be instead of how they really are now. Now it’s just… it has to be all business.”

Pollux cracked a smile, “S’what you get for growing up. Soon we’ll just be annoying voices in your head like you are to us.” Shutting your textbook, you turned to look at them from the passenger seat, eyes that match theirs darting between their blond heads, “All of us have to grow up eventually. Except maybe you two— I prefer you in my nightmares like the kids from The Shining. Whenever you get sick of Dad, come see me. Gods know that camp deserves a break from the two of you too.” Your knuckles knocked against both of their heads affectionately as he put the car in park, “My built-in bodyguards, huh? Always looking out for me.”

All words and meaning escape Pollux now as he stands in the greenery of the North Woods with battle gear ill-fitted to his large frame. It’s the first siege he’s ever taken part in, the first time he’s had to use battle strategies outside of Capture the Flag and the first time he’s slashed his way through monsters and demigods with the intent to try and kill or be killed. Sword and Shield could have never prepared any of them for this—as his eyes meet Castor’s and then yours with all of you thinking the same thing, the three of you join the sea of iridescent orange through mind-numbing black moving like a sharp three-pronged sword.

This type of stuff isn’t typical for him, he thinks. He and Castor are used to being comedic relief— being the source of laughs and juice boxes for pesky little campers instead of facing the real world outside the boundaries of the Mist. Perhaps your father babied them to make up for the time he lost with you, but there’s a moment where he wonders how being kept soft will keep him alive in a world as harsh as this one.

Childlike innocence is ripped away from them in the bubble they’ve inhabited until this moment. Home is now a warzone and like lambs set up for slaughter, the twins both turn to look at you as a shuddering gasp leaves your mouth at the carnage in your surroundings, monster blood and fallen friends and enemies at your feet. Breaking away from formation to take a deep breath, he looks at the sky and wonders where your father is, but smoke and soot fill his lungs and he coughs desperately for a breath of fresh air.

Pollux thinks he must have stopped breathing before Castor took his last breath. It wasn’t supposed to be a competition, but sometimes life was just funny like that.

5, 4, 3, 2, 1.

Just like you told him.

Castor was always the more manic one while Pollux knew how to endure. Children of Dionysus are forced to befriend insanity before it makes an enemy out of them—twisting the ugly into what’s real and creating something beautiful out of the deranged. You’ve shown the boys how you detach from emotion by recognizing the details—separating fact and fiction, a methodical process only describable by the blood that runs through your veins. Pollux doesn’t know where to start—everything happens so fast but it plays out in front of him like someone put the pieces together to a stop-motion animation.

He sees Castor’s sword fall to the ground when he gets slashed on the forearm and sees him get clubbed over the head with a metal weapon he’s only seen bad renditions forged for theater practices and hanging on the walls of the armory. Castor falls first to his knees, and then into the dirt with a thud. He never knew there could be that much blood coming out of a person, much less a mirror image of himself. Pollux sees your face come into his line of vision, deep maroon splatters on your face glittering with hints of ichor and then you’re moving because he can’t. The enemy is coming back for him now, and for a moment he wonders if Castor will be mad if he lets him. He sees you turn in an instant, swinging your sword down on the neck of the aggressor, a teenager not much older than he and his brother are—were. It’s funny how his brain immediately makes the switch to past tense, and how he can’t stop thinking about how he’ll now and forever be older than his twin. Pollux then sees you catch the body of the boy you just killed as life seeps out of him slower than it did for Castor.

It doesn’t make him feel any better, though.

His knees hit the ground next to his twin, touching the sludge of dirt soft like quicksand and moist with what he hopes is not blood, but Pollux is not quite sure of what else there is to hope for. His fist is wrapped around Castor’s shirtsleeve, touching faded orange and sweat as he holds on for dear life. Maybe if he tries hard enough his soul will still be intertwined with his. Your hand touches his shoulder, five fingers reaching out to brush the back of his neck and the feeling of your skin helps him refocus a bit, even if you’re saying something he can’t make out. Then the metal of your Zippo lighter feels cool to the touch within his palm and he knows what he needs to do.

The battle isn’t over, but for the three of you, everything stops here. There is no going forward without your brother. You were never meant to be children of war.

Pollux hears the sound of his heartbeat thundering through his ears, blood rushing through his veins and can’t help but notice the silence amid the chaos. There are no words fit for this—and even if there were, Castor and you were always the more talkative ones. He hears the spark of the purple flame between his fingers, blowing the smoke over him and his brother’s body, and their father’s powers blanket them like how you used to tuck them into bed, warm and safe. This is what your family is—unconventional and unending even in different realms of existence. And then Grover’s scream of panic echoes through the air and everyone hears that. Hysteria ensues as monsters and demigods alike run amok, and Pollux realizes he’s stopped shaking.

In his father’s domain, he will always find comfort.

You stand above him now directing campers calmly with a free hand—a brewing storm crackling underneath your skin that he now understands. Hidden by the illusion of smoke, Pollux’s tired bones rest alongside his brother’s dead ones— together as they always were meant to be.

The three of you together, his little family—that is a fact he hoped would never change.

The smell of grapes envelops him as he leans his forehead against your muddy leg… when did the battle end? It almost masks the scent of death that rips through the air as your hand brushes through his sandy hair. Pollux stinks of sweat and you stifle a laugh as you see him smell his armpit. You three were always the same type of fucked up. He doesn’t look down at Castor laid across his lap but knows he would’ve found it funny too. Ignorance of reality even for a moment serves as a comfort. Purple meets purple as he looks up at you with a smile that doesn’t fit his face anymore and he croaks, “Wonder what dad would say about our first battle…”

Glory was never meant to be this bittersweet—it tastes like blood in his mouth until he wipes it away from his cheek and realizes it’s Castor’s. In a way, it’s his too, everything about him and within him is exactly the same down to the star stuff the fates wove them from.

“I’ll be the one to tell him. You take care of Castor,” you answer, as if there’s anything else he would want to do and then he realizes you’re crying— and he’s seeing all of the pieces put together in front of him in this photograph in his mind.

Pollux blinks slowly.

Suddenly the image he has of you is more defined— there is new meaning to the sadness you could never shake off all these years, and he is too young to lose his greatest love, which makes him realize then that so were you.

How long does this have to go on? he wonders, grabbing onto your hand with an eagerness only comparable to the feeling he got when you and Luke whisked him and Castor away from Florida all those years ago. This punishment of living while half of his soul does not—what is he supposed to do next? This was supposed to be the safe place. There is nowhere left to run. His thumb rubs circles into the back of your shaking blood-soaked hand, a secret within the smoke.

Pollux thinks there will always be a part of him frozen in time now, a memory of this day hung up in his mind like a portrait as he holds Castor’s cold hand in his warm one.

—

Annabeth finds you in the middle of the strawberry fields before the sun sets. She knows you won’t be sleeping tonight, not if you can fight it— not when there’s so much to do. You’ve long grown out of your ripped-up and tie-dyed camp shirts, and the one slung on your frame is newly pressed and starchy from the storage room of the Big House, still stiff against your freshly washed skin. When she’s close enough to touch you, you’ve been scrubbed clean of today.

She doesn’t have to be a daughter of Athena to know that you know that she’s there even if you can’t see her, but for once she feels like she has to hide. For once, Annabeth Chase doesn’t know what to say. How can she explain the feeling of guilt that coils around her brain like barbed wire—how can she even begin to apologize for the thing wearing her brother’s skin, knowing that it killed yours? For once, her hubris is crushed by the sinking feeling of humiliation.

“Was your first quest all you thought it would be, Annie?”

As she takes her navy cap off, silver braided strands around her face wave in the wind as a reminder of what Luke put her through. Though as she looks at you now with your berry-stained fingers plucking at stems one by one instead of using your powers, she thinks that your mind is elsewhere—anywhere but here, where everything is a painful reminder of your five years as a camper.

Five years with Luke.

Mourning him isn’t a new feeling for either of you, even though he comes in and out of your lives like a poltergeist you want to bash across the head, just always out of reach. But he’s a constant, even when he’s not here and he’s what binds you two together as you huddle hidden away from the rest of camp.

“He did this for you.”

It’s not a question, more so a fact out of Annie’s mouth when you finally meet her eyes and sigh, “Luke’s always had a way going about things. The most stubborn man to ever live.” You toss another strawberry into the crate at your feet. No one’s working right now, trying to tend to the injured and the dead. Everyone’s doing their best to chase away the nightmares that are bound to come, and she knows you’ll be making rounds with her on the night shift to ease everyone’s anxieties. But there’s a thought so strong it makes her head hurt, bursting at the seams until she can’t stop with her last-ditch effort to fix her found family.

“Maybe if we find him, we can save—”

“He’s been out of time for a while now, Annabeth. We both knew that,” you say, voice firm and unwavering. You’ve never sounded so monotone before, and it hits her as her mouth falls agape, “You’re giving up on him? Why… why would you give up on him?” Anger courses through her veins like fire and she’s mad that she’s at the center of this prophecy, of Hermes’s anger for his doomed son who will love you until the ends of the earth.

And what of her?

What of the hope she has in happy endings, how is it that you’re so damn calm? Annabeth kicks at the crate, strawberries rolling out in different directions and your jaw tightens as you let her be petulant, let her scream and yell until her inner child can catch up with the reality of the world around you.

“How could you?”

Your name echoes as she repeats it, grabbing at your shoulders and she’s as desperate as the truth that shakes her when you cup her face in your hands and wipe her tears.

“You’ve carried the weight of the world Annabeth– you know what it feels like to let it go. It’s time to let him go. There’s nothing I can do or say to fix this.”

Then it hits her that you knew of his fate and yet this was still the outcome. There was nothing else to do but watch him be puppeteered by a Titan and have to fight evil while it wears his face.

“He came to you after he saw me, didn’t he? Why didn’t you tell me? Why don’t you love him anymore?”

Because it wouldn’t have changed a thing, your eyes say. Instead, you grimace as you say, “Wouldn’t that be funny if it were true?” You lean down and pick up the fallen berries, some bruised and covered in dirt, and then you look at her again with teary eyes.

“Some prophecy huh? To lose a love to worse than death. What could we have done besides love him until the end?”

“He’s still in there. I know you know that too. Don’t talk about him like he’s not,” Annabeth insists, and a sad smile settles upon your face. It’s as gentle as the kiss of the breeze on your cheeks.

“I lost a brother today, Annie.”

“Me too.”

—

The funny thing about planning funerals is that with all the fuss it takes to organize one, you still find extra time on your hands. Barely getting any sleep and dragging yourself out of your dad’s bed, Pollux snores loudly next to you after hours of working on Castor’s shroud. Sleep wasn’t expected for either of you, but being unconscious was the only way of giving your brains a reprieve. The both of you have been busy doubling down on the preparations, even if it means Mr. D won’t be back in time while he’s out rallying gods for war.

The faster Castor’s earthly body is reconnected with his soul, the easier his trip will be into the Underworld, Nico says, and it’s funny how comforting the little emo pipsqueak can be when it comes to matters of death.

Perhaps this is the solace you bring to others with things you’re able to control—keeping camp afloat is something you were always good at, and helping every traumatized child that comes up to you for a juice box or a lullaby eases the guilt that follows you. Walking around Camp Half-Blood for more than a weekend made you feel like a judge, jury, and executioner. Though most of the campers from almost five years ago have either aged out, defected, or died—the ones that remain still look at you like you’re trouble.

Perhaps you always will be.

You even found yourself with the time to pray to Hermes last night for your brother’s safe passage into the afterlife, though if he’s angry at Annabeth, he must hate you for letting Luke go. Dinner didn’t seem appetizing enough anyway, so your whole plate was tossed into the hearth. You hope he likes chicken and rice.

But if a god can’t fight fate, what did he expect you to do?

The Iris Message to your dad last night was difficult, to say the least. Pollux’s hands shook as he continued to paint grape vines onto the silk cloth and the both of you didn’t say anything when your father started to cry. He out of all of the gods knows what it’s like to be tested to the limits—to endure pain and it’s a gift you and your brother are grateful for in times like these. Watching the god display the human emotion that either of you couldn’t as freely made it more real though.

There was also the interesting predicament of Chris Rodriguez being locked up in the basement of the Big House. Replacing screaming fits with serenity was almost second nature, and your gentle hands were what got Clarisse to truly respect you again for the first time in years. You could hear her sneak downstairs and talk to him while he slept (and the look in her eyes when you’d greet her with a cup of coffee made it known to you that she finally understands what it means to love someone who’s lost—two demigod daughters filled with a lot of rage and hurt were more alike than they think).

So the morning of your little brother’s funeral, you found yourself on the shoreline of Canoe Lake, setting your Redbull against the post of the dock and looking out onto the water.

You needed to do something with your hands. In the past few days, if your fingers were not occupied by pen and paper, a guitar, supply crates, or anything else that was helpful to others and all the more distracting for you, it’s been so easy to pick at any little thing. Perhaps it was your subconscious trying to reflect the damage on the inside, but today, your nail polish was chipped beyond belief. A small price to pay to not lose it without a signature boyish smile to ease your worries and amber eyes that could help you escape from the routine.

Running camp was always easier back then with your runaway boy and his scarred cheek.

How pathetic.

Crouched over in the sand, you plucked stones and filled your pockets with them. They knocked against each other — weighing your pockets down as you walked closer to the dock. Swinging your feet off the side and chucking them into the water, you could barely achieve a ripple.

It’s so quiet that you end up wondering if the rocks in your pockets would weigh you down to the bottom of the lake. It must be nice down there, to exist away from everything.

Bubbles surface slowly in front of you, then Percy’s head bobs in the water as he squints at you through sunlight.

“You chucked a rock at my head!”

A smile tugs at your lips, almost indiscernible but definitely there, “I was trying to skip them. Didn’t know you were doing water tricks in there, kid.” His grin gleams like freshwater pearls, pulling himself up onto the dock as his hand clasps yours. Shaking his sopping hair, Percy’s gangly frame sits next to yours like a wet bag of sand—all wrinkly and misshapen and sprinkling you with lakewater.

“Maybe next time don’t pick rocks the size of your fist. How many have you got in there? Your aim is scarily accurate,” he laughs and you huff and shake your head when his hand sticks into your pocket and takes out a few smooth ones to roll around in his hand. You mirror him, watching him skip a few stones into the water that reach a good distance before sinking into the depths of the lake.

There’s something sad about feeling comfortable to trauma dump on the teenage son of Poseidon, but with the way he grabs your arm at your third unsuccessful toss of a rock, you can’t do anything else but sigh.

“Why didn’t any of you call me, Percy?”

He was waiting for this question—it’s been banging around in his head since the beginning of Annabeth’s quest, and perhaps her talk with you yesterday didn’t go as expected so once again he’s left with the difficult part.

Things happen to turn out pretty difficult for him a lot, he's noticed.

Many things could have been made easier in the past few weeks: Ariadne being your stepmother and her blessing to you would’ve made the Labyrinth easier to navigate, and having another demigod to fight alongside him instead of a mortal girl would’ve been a plus too. But he looks at you with ocean eyes and a smaller smile that reminds you of how he looked at you when you dropped him off in Montauk the summer you met him and quit your head counselor job.

“You’ve already made a lot of difficult decisions. We weren’t sure if…”

The rotten wood beneath you creaks under your shifting weight as you turn to him, tucking your legs underneath your bottom.

“Didn’t think I could handle it?”

He shakes his head, “The opposite, actually. Annabeth has this notion that you’re the only one that can save him. You know, back on my first quest I met Luke’s dad and he told me something…”

You swallow instead of answering. There’s no way Percy is giving you Hermes’s advice right now. Somehow this feels like karmic retribution after years of spiting that asshole, and what he tells you next is more of a sign that it must be true.

“He said, ‘Do you know what that feels like? To be so close to someone you love knowing neither of you has any choice but to keep hurting each other?’ I didn’t get it then, but I do now.”

“With Luke and his mom?” you ask, picking at the remaining slivers of varnish on your thumbnail.

“With you and Luke. I didn’t call you, because… why would I want to see you hurt after everything?” Percy says this like it’s something he would do for everyone.

Perhaps it is, but the knot that forms in your throat feels as heavy as the boulder you almost sunk into his skull. He’s tall enough to lean your head against now, and you don’t mind the water spots that will form along the side of your funeral outfit. The shape of him it leaves will remind you of the little brother you gained through so much loss.

“Plus he has a new girlfriend. Absolute horse of a girl,” he jokes. It slips over your head but you still giggle, “I could’ve taken her.”

“I know, that was Grover’s worry. You’re prettier anyway…” Percy pauses, and then clears his throat, “You’ve always taken care of this place, y’know? Even after….I just think someone ought to take care of you.”

Your shoulder bumps against his as you finally skip a rock. It only bounces across the water twice and you think Percy might have had something to do with it, but you’re not bothered by the help this time around.

—

You wake up in the dark of night to see your dad looming in the doorway to his office. With drool and a post-it stuck to your cheek, he comes over to ruffle your hair in amicable silence.

“Hard at work or hardly working?” he chuckles, leaning over your shoulder to scan over the paperwork sorted into piles for him to sign from his absence.

“Hm. You wish,” you scoff, leaning against your arm as you look at him. He’s not in his usual eyesore of attire, wearing a clean-pressed suit with his hair slightly slicked back.

“You look good. The meeting went okay?”

“Grover will be fine. The Council of Cloven Elders? Not so much. Neither are the gods ready to take sides. Putting out little fires everywhere as we speak.”

The wheels of the office chair roll as you swing your feet, and if you both listen closely enough you can hear Pollux snoring upstairs. Chiron loved the earplugs you gave him.

Your father’s face smooths out a bit at the sight of you and the sound of his son’s breathing upstairs and he asks, “Are you? Good?”

A shrug slides off your shoulders, “How does one be good in a world like this one?”

A startling scream echoes off the walls of the Big House, rattling the floorboards from below as your father grimaces.

The work is never done for you two.

“Don’t look at me like that. It was worse when he first came here.”

“Don’t doubt it,” he mumbles, brushing lint off your shirt before he notices you’re donning neon orange. “Didn’t do laundry, princess?”

“Pollux and I haven’t gone back to our cabin since... I can wake him up if you—”

Mr. D shakes his head and goes to toss his body onto the couch against the window, shutting his eyes and taking a deep breath.

“Dad? Do you think Chris is a bad person?”

A beat passes and you think he may have fallen asleep, but then his voice sounds like gravel scraping up his throat.

“I don’t think anyone can be bad, kid. I think it is more often that people get lost. What Rodriguez needs is someone to take hold of him gently, and hand his life back to him—you…Clarisse… that’s what we’re giving him.”

Now you’re silent, staring at the dust on his name placard at the edge of the desk.

“Do you think otherwise?”

He calls your name again, and you look up like you’re about to lie to him but don’t have the energy to.

“Princess, do you think you’re a bad person?”

He stands up and walks around to your side of the desk, sitting on the edge so you have to look at him.

“I killed someone. During the battle. Didn’t even think twice about it, slashed his neck as soon as Castor went down and…” you sniff. “I kill monsters, Dad, not children. How does that make me any different?”

The last time blood was on your hands like this it was Luke’s in the Garden of Hesperides. All these years later you ended up being right— the only person you vowed to get bloody for is Luke Castellan, and now in a twisted turn of fate, you’ve bloodied your hands because of him.

“Because you did it for your brother. There are no other explanations needed.”

He sees the exhaustion in your eyes, the drop in your shoulders, but your dad also sees the strength in your bones that spans generations and he knows you and Pollux are strong because you are both his.

“Humans believe in life everlasting—glory, as some call it, but they’re too focused on achieving it on earth instead of enjoying what life has to offer,” he scoffs, “Everyone has the guts to die, but no one has the guts to truly live. How sad.”

“His name was Rowan. Son of Hecate. I taught him how to whistle the summer I left. This is all my fault, Dad,” you say shakily as he comes near and pulls you into his side. He shushes you but you relent.

“Luke’s killing all these people to fulfill a promise he made for me. I’m just fucking disgusted with myself for being the cause of it all. What good life can I deserve when wherever I go I leave a trail of blood?”

Love and addiction must be so alike; to know that to be sober you can’t indulge in the vice ever again—not only does it hurt you, but others around you. But through the years you’ve always kept the taste of his name in your mouth, the feeling of his skin under your fingertips, and the knowledge of why he’s destroying the world so he can make you a better one. Insanity stems from fighting for so long that you embrace the pain; feeling something so intensely that when it consumes you you’re able to walk out the other side and wear it as armor.

Not everyone is hardwired to persevere.

There are moments like a night like these where it would be easy to give up. Instead, you pour two glasses of whiskey you’ve conjured and hand one to your dad. You both sip on your drinks slowly, embracing the crawling feeling of the burn.

“Liquor is one way out and death is another,” your dad sighs blissfully. He almost looks rejuvenated by the alcohol he knows he’ll hear about from Zeus later, but perhaps the death of his son is a good enough pardon.

“For some of us, we don’t have to think about the answer.”

Mr. D grabs a pen off the desk and starts signing papers to do something with his hands, and then you speak again, “I think I’d rather die for people I love,” and your dad’s attention whips to your blank face staring at the moon outside the window. “Instead of killing for them. I’ve never been a good soldier, Dad.”

Mr. D looks at you thoughtfully and wonders where all the time has gone that you sit there in front of him with more knowledge than him at your mortal age before saying, “You’re my daughter. You’re a fighter. Death is for chumps anyway.”

He lifts you by the arm to try to usher you up the stairs but you stay in his office chair swatting his hands away.

“Got work to do, you and I. Not getting rid of me until it’s done.”

“When are you going home?” he asks, pulling up a chair next to yours.

“I am home.”

You don’t look up from the papers you were filing, stubbornness leaking through your voice.

“If there is a war coming, I want to be home as much as I can. I’m finishing my last semester and I’ll be here before and after classes. You can’t stop me, dad.”

And he knows that too.

There is no such thing as leaving Camp Half-Blood for you.

Never for too long. Your love for it is scattered everywhere campers can see.

—

In all these years, you never believed I loved you. And I did. I did so much. I did love you. I even loved your hate and your hardness. - Tennessee Williams

[laiiaaa]

MY LOVE, MINE ALL MINE — CARMEN BERZATTO 1. BUTTERSCOTCH — you finally say hello to a familiar face in the city after a little girl bumps into you. (2.7k) masterlist | next | taglist

Carmen keeps track of the running grocery list in his head:

Green onions? Check. Shallots? Check. Rolled oats? Check.

“Alright,” he huffs into the phone, a stupid thing tucked snug between his shoulder and jaw.

“Carm, I’m serious—”

“Nat, I got it, alright? I’ll call the fuckin’ guy.” Strawberries? Check. Eggs? Check. “I’m at the store, ‘n I’ll be back, ‘n then I’ll call him. It’s fine.” Dino nuggets? Check. That way-too-sugary cereal Sofia likes—? Even though he wishes Richie never gave it to her—? Check, check, check, so fuckin’ checked. “Now, do you wanna talk to—”

He looks to his side, where Sofia once stood with chubby little fingers hooked on the cart, that raggedy old stuffed animal always caught in the other fist. Gone. Carmen’s heart stops and catches in his throat. 

Natalie’s voice again, much quieter now that the phone’s not at his ear. “Hello?”

He doesn’t even hear his sister, doesn’t process her words.

He turns around. “Sof?” But she’s not there.

He tries again, facing forward, a little louder. “Sofia?” Nothing. “Fuck,” he mumbles to himself, ending the call without a second thought. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck—” 

He shoves his phone into his pocket, abandons the cart altogether, pokes his head into the aisle over. “Sofia.” Nothing. “Shit—”

He can’t breathe. A closed fist shoots to his chest to try and soothe the droughted ache. The ceiling’s closing in from above, every aisle looks the same, his feet are too heavy to carry him fast enough through the store.

Where’s his fuckin’ kid?

You’re spooked out of a fatigued trance by a clumsy little girl at your feet in the produce section. 

She can’t be older than four, her chubby little face framed by golden brown curls, dressed in a cute little black dress and pink tights, ballet flats to boot. By her hand is a well-loved stuffed animal: an orange tabby cat with lint fuzzies along its body, teetering on the edge of the display about to fall into the lettuce.

“Well, hello,” you start.

She peeks up at you through stray curls with a grin. “Hi.”

You do a quick scan of the immediate area but spot nothing other than a worker stocking bananas twenty feet away, another pushing a cart of mangoes. “Where’d you come from, hm?” You perch down next to her and try to offer a warm smile to keep her calm.

“I’m here with my daddy.”

“Yeah? Where’s he at?”

Her lips, shiny with drool, puff into a pout. “I…” Her little voice wobbles, and you know that fucking wobble, that precursor to something uncontrollable and wretched, and for a split second you consider letting her cry, just on the off chance her dad hears it.

But you come to your senses: it’ll take all but five, no more than ten minutes to cover the entire store ground. You graze your hand by her back and offer her the sorry excuse for a cat. “Hey, don’t worry, it’s alright. I’ll help you.”

“B-But…” Those pretty brown eyes of her turn glassy, ready for tears, and her lip quivers, her cheeks puff out.

“I’ll help you find him, okay? We’ll wait right here, and I promise he’ll find you. We won’t leave this spot til he does.”

She hesitates before she nods, gives you a warbled, “Okay.”

You give her your name—something you read or heard from word of mouth, how putting a name to your face makes you more trustworthy. “What’s yours?”

“...Sofia.”

“Sofia,” you repeat. “That’s a very pretty name.”

The dimples that come through with her smile have you swooning, your chest filling with something sweet. A supercut you’ve long since abandoned flits through one of the best and worst years you’ve endured: kisses at the door for hello and goodbye, chilly Chicago mornings spent in someone else’s sheets, serving coffee in thick handmade mugs and being thanked for it with lips pressed to your cheek. But that was a year ago, and it’s long gone. You’re better off now—occupied with work, and running a business, and trying new things, and finding comfort in the solitude of an apartment that’s filled with nothing but the smell of coffee grounds.

Your pointer finger lifts her toy’s head: “And who’s this?”

“Butterscotch,” she says, Butter sounding a whole lot like Buttah.

“Yeah? Where’d you come up with that name?”

“My daddy’s a chef, he teached it to me.”

A chef, you hum, No wonder he’s here at seven in the morning.

And you do just about everything you’d want someone to do if this were your kid: you keep her right where she is like you promised her, you listen to all her stories she has with Butterscotch, you answer the silly questions she asks while she holds your finger in a squishy hand and bears a gummy smile.

Until—

A man wrought with stress approaches. Fitted white tee, loose denim on his hips, beat up Nikes that’ve probably seen better days. Golden brown curls like the little girl’s, only thicker, darkened with age, and half-straightened, probably from the way he runs his fingers through them like he does as he walks toward you and the girl. Buff arms, built shoulders, and they’re littered with tattoos…

Not what you expected. And he looks so fucking familiar, yet you can’t put your finger on it—

“Sofia,” he huffs, and she scurries over to him in tiny yet quickened steps and jumps into his arms, his eyes closing and brows furrowing with a relief that’s palpable as he tucks his nose into her swirling hair. “What’d I tell you about comin’ to the store w’me, huh?” A veiny hand with the letters S O U inked on the fingers cups the back of her head as he sways her from side to side, failing to give her much of a stern look at all despite his frustration. “You gotta stay by my side, I told you, you’ll get lost.”

“But I wasn’t lost, Daddy,” she pouts, “I was right here, and—and I had to find Butterscotch, and you—you weren’t there—”

“Okay,” he soothes, rubbing his hand along her back before he thumbs away budding tears from her fleshy cheeks. “Okay, hon…” He props her at his hip. “It’s okay. You’re okay. You just scared me ‘s all, alright? Didn’t know where you were, had me lookin’ all over for you.”

“...I’m sorry,” she mumbles, clearly upset, nuzzling into her dad’s shoulder as he presses a sweet kiss to her head.

He looks to you, then, and you lend him a sympathetic smile.

“Sorry about her, she’s, uh…” He peeks at her, so lovingly— “She can be a handful sometimes.”

“No, don’t apologize, she was great.” Your eyes drift to his hands. They’re big, strong, like he knows what to do with them around the house, with a baby girl...with her mother, too, though you wonder where that stands. You try not to. “She’s talkative, makes for a fun conversation. A great storyteller, too.”

He smiles, and it’s hearty, with a twitch of a brow as he draws just a bit closer—it’s slight, so slight you almost think you’re imagining things. “Think so? She doesn’t usually, um…doesn’t usually wanna talk to people, y’know?” He hikes her up again, and she turns so that she’s facing you. “Get all grumpy, don’t ya, Sof? Like with your Uncle Richie?”

“But she’s nice,” she chimes in, lifting her head from his shoulder and leaving the cat’s head peeking through. “Not mean like he is.”

Again with that smile, he looks at her with raised brows, bobs her up and down as he holds her tight, like she’s his entire world. “Yeah?” He shoots you back a look, half-impressed. “You don’t wanna see him today, huh?”

“No,” she grumbles, face smushed into his tee. “Can she come to work with us instead?”

“Sof…” He scoffs, cocking his head to the side, and his eyes dart between you and his girl. “That’s not—we can’t just—”

“Pretty please, Daddy…” She pouts at him, pulls on his neck with her arms looped around it, starts trying to lean back to stir up trouble but his hands hold her firm to his torso. “You said Eva and Vivi can’t play today…”

“I—I know, hon— . . . It’s just— . . .” Kissing his teeth, he contemplates for a moment. “She probably has work to do, y’know? Just like I have to work? And how sometimes you can’t come with me?”

“Where does she work?”

“Uhhh…” In an awkward pause, he seems to realize the dilemma. The expectant glance your way is almost painful. “Shit,” he hisses, holding Sofia with one hand to run fingers through his hair, “I’m sorry, I should’ve—I should introduce myself, right?” The pained look on his face makes you think the question is genuine, and he offers his right hand to you— “I’m Carmen, but, um, most people just call me Carmy.”

It clicks: He’s Carmen Berzatto. Not just some guy or some chef in the grocery store you’ve happened to meet, but the guy. The guy who owns the fine dining joint across the street from your cafe; the guy who showed up to the city a few years ago only to revamp his family-owned sandwich shop in its entirety; the guy you’d heard so much about from the gossip around the block between vendors; the guy who left his roots to be something so much bigger than anyone could’ve imagined; the guy who came back with a reputation with none to rival and a shattered family in its shadow. The prodigal son of Chicago. You heard of him but never met.

“Y-Yeah, right, right,” you nod, stumbling for the right words. “I thought you looked kinda familiar.” You take his hand graciously as you give him your name. His handshake is firm, solid, sure of himself, with a callused palm and dry skin and cracked knuckles, an inked-on hand with a knife through its palm on the back of his hand. “You own The Bear, right?”

“I do.” Sheepish, like it’s embarrassing to be successful.

“Cool, cool, I’ve, um, I’ve heard a lot of good things about it, but I’ve never been.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Something warm in your belly comes to the surface and you try to drown it. “I own the cafe across the street—? Just a, uh, a smaller place—” You shake your head as if to dismiss the thought of him even knowing about it. “I dunno if—”

“No, no, yeah, I know that one, a few doors down—” he nods, fervently— “Etta’s, right?”

You smile. He knew of it so quick, with so little detail you want to think it means something. “Yeah, that’s the one.” For fuck’s sake, the guy probably just likes to support his local businesses. Get a grip.

“My sister loves that place, goes there all the time. But I, uh…” A soft smile at his girl. “I don’t usually have much time to go myself…”

“Yeah, I can imagine you’re pretty busy with her.” Unless her mom is in the picture…?

But he doesn’t take the bait—he only smiles, hums with a subtle nod, gives Sofia a pat on the back to get her attention, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “Hey, cub, guess what?”

She comes to only slightly, with pale blonde locks like angel’s hair tickling Carmen’s neck. Grumbles something akin to a Hm?

“You know those chocolate chip muffins you like? The ones your Aunt Natalie gets for you?”

Her curls are already caught in her eyelashes. “With the sparkles on top?”

He gives you a knowing look: sugar, not sparkles. “Yes, with the sparkles. Did you know our new friend here runs that shop?”

Her head perks up with a gasp. “What?” Her excitement is so soft, and she can’t even stave off a smile now, tiny teeth shining through to show the dimples in her cheeks again.

“You heard me.”

From her mouth is only a whisper, a doe-eyed look targeted right at you. “No way.”

You smile at her. “Yes way.”

She puts on those puppy dog eyes, looks at Carmen with a pout as she tugs on him again. “Daddy, can we please—”

 In one fell swoop, his hand whisks her hair out of her face. “Uh-uh. Nice try.”

Oh, but she’s a stubborn one. “But please—”

“Not today, baby, we gotta finish shopping, hm? Then go to work?” His eyes dart to meet yours in a knowing glance, a silent apology and excuse to leave. “Maybe I’ll ask Aunt Natalie to get them for you tomorrow. How’s that sound?”

She huffs and buries herself into his neck again, turning away from you now that she’s in a surly mood.

“Okay,” he sighs, smiling to himself, and you can’t deny the comfort in seeing his little girl so cozy with him, like he’s either the only parent around, or he’s really just that good of a father—and husband, or fiancé, or boyfriend, or whatever he might be. You don’t know if you should feel guilty for wanting to pry.

The conversation lulls to a hesitant stop, like neither one of you is sure how to bid farewell—or whether you want to do so at all.

“Y’know,” he starts, with a finality to his tone, “I’ve still gotta—”

“Yeah, me too—”

“And I left the cart in the other aisle—”

“Right, right, of course—”

“And they need me at the—”

“Same here, I need to, uh—”

“Right, yeah, so um—”

“Yeah—”

“I guess I should—”

“Probably—”

“And, uh—…”

“It was nice to meet you, though,” you finish, maybe a little too enthusiastic for only having just done so minutes ago.

But if it were, Carmen doesn’t show it. “Yeah, it was nice to meet you, too. I’ll, uh…I’ll see you around.”

You offer a softened smile. “Guess so.”

And he leaves you with a curt nod before he turns around with Sofia’s face smushed into his shoulder, her arms loosely wrapped around his neck to leave Butterscotch hugged to the nape of it. That’s all you see, then: just a beaten up stuffed animal and springy golden curls as Carmen rounds the corner of the aisle, your breath gone short and face gone warm by the end of it.

Half of it, you’re sure, is the simple brevity of it all: consoling a lost child, to chatting with her father, to finding out he’s a business neighbor. And against your better judgment, the other half of it is a twinge of attraction to him.  Even though he has a kid, and he may very well be married, or at least in a relationship, and by the looks of it, stressed out of his goddamn mind…

But there’s just something about him.

The way he was worried about his daughter like he’s supposed to be, the way he holds her and dotes on her and rubs her back like it’s nothing but natural to him, the heartwarming smile that reaches his eyes just by looking at his precious girl. The hard-earned strength in his hands and arms, the symbolic imagery of his tattoos that you’ve yet to dwell upon in late night hours, the awkward demeanor about him like he doesn’t know if he’s allowed to talk to you—or if he even knows how. And all this, you see in a man working down the street, a man you’ve never spoken to until today, who could be the worst person in the world for all you know.

You don’t, is the thing. You don’t know his middle name, or his favorite color, or favorite food, or where he’s even worked, really, other than here in Chicago. You don’t know if Sofia’s mother is still around, or whatever happened to her if she isn’t, or if it’s a topic he breaches freely or not at all.

You don’t know enough about him yet to judge. You don’t know much at all. You don’t know if you want to, whether it’ll send you head first into a mess of pasts not unlike the one you’ve been trying to crawl out of alone for the past grueling months, if it’d upturn all the good you’ve tried to make stick.

But if there’s one thing you do know, it’s that you want to see him again. 

And that you’ll have to make a batch or two of muffins first.

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@knight4xmas @ajourneyforjoy @penguin876

[frost-queen]

My mortal flaw // part 6 (Reader x Zuko)

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Summary: Reaching the city of Ba Sing Se, Zuko hopes his sister wouldn't find him here. When you get mistaken for Katara, an unfamiliar boy wages his presence in your life to the dislikes of your prince. How will the great city of Ba Sing Se work out for you? [ part 1  & part 2 & part 3 & part 4 & part 5 & part 7]

Iroh was fanning himself, craving for some water… or tea for that matter. Up ahead he saw his nephew pushing forwards. It wondered Iroh, how Zuko could go so long without something to drink. Not able to take another step, Iroh stopped, leaning against a rock. Puffing loudly from walking for almost days now through the Earth kingdom.

“Let me help you.” – you said, jogging up to him from behind. Barely having any strength in your legs as well. The weight of travelling for days on foot without much food or water heavy on you. Joining his side, you moved his arm over your shoulder, to keep him upright. Iroh waved his hand at you, letting you know it was alright.

Iroh nearly sunk through his knees as you kept him upright with all your might. – “Perhaps we should rest.” – you suggested helping him gently down. Iroh exhaled deep sitting against the rock. – “Get up!” – Zuko’s voice startled you. He stared at his uncle, having walked back. – “Zuko surely we can…” – you began gesturing at him.

Immediately silenced by him. – “I said up!” – Zuko cut through. The rest of your words swallowed back in. Iroh was already making his way to get up as you had enough of it. – “No!” – you called back. – “We’ve been walking for days now without proper food or water.” – you reminded him. – “Give us a moment.” – begging as you approached him.

“We don’t have a moment.” – Zuko replied, gesturing behind you. Without any other words, you knew what or rather who he was speaking off. His sister Azula. Ever since he knew she was hunting him down, he had been fixated on moving forwards. If anyone allowed him, he’d track the entire length of the Earth Kingdom just to stay way ahead of her.

Reaching for his hand, you clasped your hands around it, lowering his arm. – “I know you worry, but look at your uncle.” – you told him, forcing him to take a look. Zuko shifted his gaze from you to his beloved uncle. Seeing him puff to catch his breath. – “Give him a moment… that is all I ask for.” – surely the sympathy for his uncle would make him fold.

Zuko closed his eyes with a soft sigh. – “We’ll leave in three.” – he outed pulling his hand away. You bowed your head to him out of gratitude. Turning around, you rushed back to Iroh. Kneeling before him as you took out your flask. Taking the top off it, you offered him the little water it carried. –“No… I cannot take this.” – Iroh said, knowing it didn’t hold enough for the three of them. Shaking your head, you didn’t want to hear it. – “Take it Iroh. I’m not thirsty anyways.” – you lied to not make him feel so guilty.

You offered him the flask once more. With a little persuasion, he accepted the water. Drinking the little from it with some guilt. Iroh gave you back the empty flask as you putted it away. – “Can you go a bit further?” – you asked him, wanting to be sure he was strong enough to continue the journey. Iroh nodded. You made some way for him, getting up so there was room to help him up to his feet.

You dusted Iroh’s clothing, taking him by the arm afterwards. – “One step at a time.” – you told him. Iroh smiling back at you. Zuko waited for the two of you to join him before taking the heavy lead again. Forcing a way through the Earth kingdom with nothing but trees, rocks and ground around for miles. You so hoped you’d encounter a little village soon, just to have a proper meal and sleep.

You were relieved, feeling blessed when you finally saw the city rise on the horizon. It gave you so much strength, you could practically run to it. The three of you walked through the city gates worn out. Iroh looked curiously around. – “I know this city…” – he said taking an observing eye. – “Ba Sing Se.” – he finished.

It made you widen your eyes a bit, having read so much about the great city of Ba Sing Se in books. Never being able to visit it. In truth when you still lived with your tribe, you weren’t able to visit much things. Never going further than your own tribe. Now you were seeing the world with the fire prince you were promised too. All in pursuit of the Avatar. – “Now where can we eat?” – Zuko asked, secretly being hungry for a while too. Iroh chuckled when he heard Zuko’s stomach grumble. Iroh motioned for the two of you to follow him.

You noticed Zuko looking wary over his shoulders. Placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, seemed to startle him. – “She wouldn’t dare come here. We’re save here.” – you reassured him. Zuko took your hand from his shoulder, holding it for a few seconds before he let it drop at your side once more. – “For now.” – he replied, going after his uncle. Taking a deep breath, you waited a second before going after them. Iroh and Zuko walking into a place.

You were about to head in as well, feeling a sudden hand on your shoulder, put you to a stop. – “Katara.” – a male voice spoke, turning you firmly around. The gesture made you gasp. The boy blinked surprised, then his expression faltered. – “I’m sorry… I thought you were someone I know.” – he said lowering his hand on you. – “You mean Katara?” – you asked seeing him nod.

“You…you kind of … I thought…there aren’t many water tribe girls walking around the Earth Kingdom.” – he told you with a chuckle. It made you look down at your own clothing. They had been through hell, but they were still significant Water tribe clothing. – “If you know Katara, then you must know the Avatar?” – you asked thinking back of when you first heard that name. Kyoshi island. Where the Avatar’s friends nearly ripped you away from Zuko.

Thinking you might be a prisoner, when in fact you aren’t. The boy quirked up an eyebrow at you. – “Do you know where he is?” – you wanted to know. Just curiously, not even sure if you would give the information to Zuko if he did tell you. – “Why so curious about him?” – the boy curled up a smirk. You smiled sheepishly back at him, pulling your shoulders up.

Hoping it didn’t came over as obsessed. The boy than laughed loud. – “I was only teasing. So not Katara what are you doing so far away from your tribe?” – he asked slipping an arm over you. – “First of all, it’s Y/n. Princess to you” – you told him with an elbow punch to his stomach. 

The boy felt the air being sucked out of his lungs, coughing, holding a hand on his stomach. – “Second that is a long story I’m not sharing with you.” – you finished crossing your arms. The boy chuckled again, straightening his posture. – “Royalty. I see now.” – he laughed out. – “The name’s Jet, princess.” – he dramatically bowed before you, making you roll your eyes at him. Jet looked all smug at you. – “Shall I treat your highness to a meal?” – he asked speaking so annoyingly sweet.

“I will provide my own meal.” – you told him, remembering your company. Looking over your shoulder, you wondered why anyone hasn’t started missing you. Surely one of them must have come to look? Shaking the awful thoughts away, you turned around, seeing Jet fall in line with you. – “I will eat alone!” – you called out, shutting the door behind you. The establishment was not overcrowded. Looking around, you searched for your company.

You sighed disappointed, seeing them sit in the corner, already enjoying their meal. Making your way over to them, you came to sit in front of them. – “How sweet to wait for me.” – you said with a sarcastic undertone to Zuko. – “It’s getting cold.” – was the only thing he replied. Too busy slurping his soup with noodles.

Sighing softly, you picked up the spoon letting it swirl in the bowl. Your gaze got drawn to the doors, seeing them open. Seeing Jet enter almost made you spew your soup out on Iroh’s face. Coughing loud, you nearly choked as Jet made eye contact with you. Looking questionable at the company you were with. Zuko gave you some hard slaps on the back to settle down.

Pushing his hand away, you watched Jet come to sit at a table, giving him enough clearance to stare at you. – “Yuk.” – Iroh’s disgust pulled your attention away. – “This tea is cold.” – Iroh said trying to get the taste of his tongue. –“Just drink up old man.” – Zuko replied annoyed, not caring one bit about tea.

Iroh wrapped his hands around the cup. You watched, blinking in wonder as there emerged a warmth from the tea. Eyes widened as you knew Iroh had just heated the tea up in his hands. He blew the steam away before taking a careful sip. It made you look around, hoping no one had seen it. The last thing you wanted was another chase.

The three of you stepped out, fully satisfied. Now all you wanted to do was rest and sleep for days. Iroh was mumbling to Zuko, probably about looking for a place to stay as you followed behind them. Mindlessly looking around at your surroundings. – “Y/n!” – you suddenly heard, eyes widening as it only could be Jet. You turned around, seeing Jet jog up to you. Iroh and Zuko turning curiously around as well.

“I mean princess.” – Jet teased once he was near you. Zuko looked over at his uncle, trying to get some validation that what he was seeing was true. And not some hallucination. – “Are those your protecters?” – Jet motioned with his head at Iroh and Zuko behind you. – “I mean as a princess I figure, you must be protected well.” – he curled up a smile as you laughed sweetly.

Zuko took an annoyed step forwards. Uncle Iroh quickly grabbing him by the arm, pulling him back. Zuko stumbled back, looking confused at his uncle before slapping his hand off. – “No, they are my…” – you paused, not sure how to phrase it. Shaking your head, you didn’t want to go further into detail, not wanting to risk revealing any identities.

“I can show you around? Are you looking for a place to stay?” – Jet asked ruffling his hand shyly through his hair. Zuko looked disgusted at Jet’s gesture. – “We are. Do you know any good places to stay?” – you asked feeling a sudden pull on your arm. Stumbling back as Zuko stepped in. – “We’ll find our own place.” – he made clear with a glare. Jet took a step closer to Zuko, getting toe to toe with him.

“Where I come from, we show princesses more respect.” – Jet said, angering Zuko. Both men glaring at each other. – “She has my respect.” – Zuko made clear. Jet scoffed. – “Clearly.” – he answered smug. Zuko felt his anger boil, wanting to throw hands with him. – “Nephew.” – Iroh said to break things apart. Zuko huffed annoyed, turning round as he grabbed you firm by the wrist.

Pulling you away. Jet took out his sword. – “Hands off her.” – Jet shouted as Zuko paused at the subtle sound of Jet’s sword getting pulled out. Zuko turned glaring at the sword pointed at him. – “Let her go!” – Jet called out. – “Don’t worry princess, I’ll show you respect.”

You stared between Zuko and Jet. – “Let’s… let’s settle down. There is no need for swords.” – Iroh started. – “Shut up old man.” – Jet shouted, silencing him. – “Don’t tell him to shut up.” – you answered bothered at Jet’s tone. You stepped away from Zuko, coming to stand in the middle of them. Zuko wanting to pull you away, but you slapped his hand away. – “You should be treated with respect.” – Jet told you, taking a step back, yet his sword was still up pointing at you.

“You should be taken care of. By somehow who treats you right, princess.” – he finished. – “Like you?” – Zuko shouted with mockery at him. It made Jet clench his jaw. – “Clearly he doesn’t!” – Jet shifted his sword towards Zuko. Zuko inhaled deep, readying himself to launch at Jet if Iroh hadn’t stopped him. Stopping him by his shoulders. – “Enough!” – you called out losing your patience. You were too tired to handle this.

Not wanting to spend another second with these bickering men over respect, you walked off. Iroh coming quietly after you, not wanting to stop them any longer. Jet lowered his sword, gazing at your departure. He got startled when Zuko was up close with him. – “Leave my betrothed alone!” – he threatened before going after the two of you. Jet blinked stunned.

Iroh found a place to stay. A room shaped like a square. On three sides there were beds, curtains pulled before them for privacy. You went straight to one of the beds, pulling the curtains behind you. Zuko sat down annoyed in the middle of the room. His uncle joining him across from him. Iroh set his freshly set cup of tea down on the low stand between them. One look of his uncle, made Zuko sigh loud. – “I was civil.” – Zuko snapped at his uncle. Iroh quirked his eyebrow up. Communicating in silence as he knew how to handle Zuko.

Zuko sighed loud placing an elbow on his knee, chin resting on his knuckles. – “Who was he even?” – Zuko called out annoyed. – “How did he even know Y/n? Y/n’s never been here. Where did he even meet her?” – Zuko said bothered to his uncle. Whining about the fact another boy knew you. – “And the nerve he had.” – Zuko slammed his fist on the table, startling Iroh as it nearly spilled his tea.

Iroh quickly picked his cup up to protect his tea from any further stomps. – “Are you perhaps jealous nephew?” – Iroh casually spoke. – “No!” – Zuko replied, slamming his fist again on the table. – “Why should I be jealous? She is my betrothed. I’m not jealous over some guy taking an interest in her. She’s not going to abandon the agreement for him.” – Zuko let out clearly agitated.

“Then why are you getting so worked up over him?” – Iroh asked knowing just how to nudge his nephew just that little more. – “He’s a guy!” – Zuko shouted getting up annoyed. He stormed over to his side, pushing the curtain out of the way. Iroh chuckled amusingly.

Laying down on your bed, you smiled bashful, having heard it all. Jealous Zuko was something you never thought you’d encounter. Here he was getting all worked up over Jet. It didn’t take you all to fall asleep. Having been too tired to go on for any second longer. Day making way for night. Sudden noises made you wake up from your slumber. Moving restless in your sleep.

The noises getting louder as it made you jump up. Afraid it might be anyone to rat you out. Getting out of bed, you moved the curtains aside. Seeing the room was empty. Both Zuko and Iroh’s curtains still closed. Taking a calming breath, you ventured into the room. Sneaking out to see what those noises were. With one last glance at the others, you left the room.

Sneaking your way into the corridor to where the noises were coming from. Getting closer to it. Hearing it come from just around the corner. Ready to peek around the corner and be faced with the noises. A sudden grip on you, made you spin rapidly around. A hand getting pressed against your mouth to deafen out any screams. Eyes widening as he brought a finger to his lips, shushing you. Jet.

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Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!

[thebramblewood]

Caleb has unfortunately not returned to Forgotten Hollow to curb stomp Lilith's ass (but someday maybe... someday).

Previous / Next

Caleb: LILITH! OPEN THIS DAMN DOOR, LILITH!

Lilith: [smugly] Well, well, well, look who the cat finally dragged back- Jesus, you look a fright.

Caleb: [flatly] They’re all gone.

Lilith: What? Who?

Caleb: The Sages. They’re dead. Murdered.

Lilith: Morgyn?

Caleb: Everyone.

Lilith: Oh, baby brother. Oh, you poor thing.

Caleb: [voice cracking] I didn’t know where else to go.

Lilith: So you came home. Of course you did. You need your family now. You need your big sister. I understand.

Caleb: Oh, God, what am I going to do without them?

Lilith: You’ve got me. We’ve only ever been able to rely on each other. Isn’t that right?

Caleb: [raggedly] This happened somehow because of me, Lilith. One way or another, I destroy everything good I touch. It’s all my fault!Lilith: The only thing you’re guilty of is getting too attached. Humans are weak, Caleb, and temporary. You thought this one was different with their spells and potions, but they’re always going to be marked for death. We’re the only constant. Everything and everyone else fades. [whispering] I’m sorry you had to learn the hard way. But I’ll take care of you now. We’ll have you feeling better in no time, I promise.

[merrybloomwrites]

Damien Haas - Vet Waiting Room

Summary: Who knew cats could be wingmen? A chance encounter in the vet waiting room can lead to more for Damien and Y/N.

Word Count: 674

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You absolutely love your cat. Shadow is the cutest, sweetest, chunkiest boy. But god forbid you try to trim his nails. You’ve nearly lost an eyeball one too many times and decided to just pay professionals to do nail trims every couple months.

It’s a bit of an inconvenience, needing to block out an hour so frequently just to get your cat's nails cut, but they’re so good with him that the time and money is worth it.

You’re waiting at the vet’s office for Shadow to be called back when someone walks in with a cat carrier of his own. He signs in and sits next to you on the bench. The first thing you notice is the purple in his hair. The next thing you notice is the biggest, fluffiest cat you’ve ever seen sitting in his carrier. 

He notices you looking at him and introduces himself, holding out a hand and saying “Hi, I’m Damien.”

You politely shake his hand and say, “Hi Damien, I’m Y/N. And who is this?” you ask, in regard to his cat.

“This here is Zelda, she’s my big ‘ol chonk,” he replies, his voice full of love for his pet. “Who do you have with you?”

“This is Shadow, he’s also my biggest boy. His brother is home,” you over explain.

“Are they actual brothers?” you nod and he continues saying, “That’s really cool! I call my two cats sisters but they’re not related. They just get along like typical sisters do.” 

“Oh yea, my boys definitely act like brothers. All the fights are worth seeing them randomly cuddle together though.”

“Oh I absolutely agree,” Damien says. 

He opens his mouth to speak again but the receptionist calls him back to a patient room. “It was nice meeting you,” he says as he gets up. 

“You too,” you reply and he walks away.

The receptionist says, “The techs are just a little behind, we’ll get Shadow taken care of soon.”

As you sit and wait, you can’t stop thinking about Damien. Even when Shadow is taken back for his nail trim, you can’t stop kicking yourself for not getting Damien’s number. Your friends are always telling you to put yourself out there, maybe join some dating sites, but you explain that you’d rather meet someone naturally.

And now you’ve met someone. This could’ve been a perfect opportunity and you totally blew it. 

Shadow is brought back out and you pay for the service. You hope that Damien will be out before you leave, but now you’ve run out of reasons to be there. You walk out and start to load Shadow into the car.

Just as you’re about to get in the driver’s seat you hear someone calling your name. Turning around you see Damien walking out of the office, struggling to catch up while carrying Freya in her carrier.

“Hold on,” he says, “Just let me-” he cuts himself off and goes to his car, setting Freya inside as you watch amusedly. 

He walks back to you and nervously says, “Totally understand if not, but uh, would you maybe want to go out sometime?” 

Even though you’re introverted, and truthfully nervous about the idea of a date, you manage to confidently answer, “Yea, I’d like that.”

He breathes a sigh of relief, alerting you that he’s just as nervous as you are, and he says, “Could I get your number and I’ll reach out to set something up?”

“That’s perfect,” you reply and the two of you exchange numbers. 

After another goodbye to Damien, with his promise to text you soon, you finally get into your car. Turning to Shadow in the seat next to you, you say, “I guess I need to thank you for hating nail trims, since you technically got me a date.” You laugh, letting out the excited and nervous energy bubbling in you. 

As you text back and forth with Damien that night to set up your date, Shadow gets extra treats for being such a good wingman.

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AN: Thank you for reading! I have one more Damien story coming out in a couple of weeks!

[writeforfandoms]

Howlin’ For You - epilogue

Find the CoD masterlist

Well, I know people wanted more of these two. And after a conversation with a shameless enabler, this is what I came up with! I hope you all enjoy.

Warnings: Swearing, talk of marriage/mating, talk of children, shifter social norms, shifter behavior

Word count: 2k

You shifted your weight in the seat yet again. “You’re sure they won’t mind?” you asked quietly, unable to keep the anxiety at bay.

“Love, they’re right thrilled to meet ye,” Soap murmured, squeezing the hand held captive between both of his. He was a long line of warmth against your side in the chilly train, pressed up against you from knee to shoulder. 

You blew out a breath, noisy but short, venting a bit of your nerves. “Right. Okay.” 

He nuzzled your cheek softly, squeezing your hand again. “Ye’ll have fun,” he murmured, a soft promise in his tone. “And if ye donnae, we’ll go. Aye?”

“Right.” You did relax a little at the reminder. 

“Never done a meet the family?” The words were gently teasing, even as he tried to tug you closer. You swatted his thigh, because you’d already refused to sit in his lap. Twice. This trip. 

“Never.” You bit your lip, wrinkling your nose. “Especially not with, y’know, the rest of the stuff.”

“Stuff.” Soap huffed a little laugh. “Funny way of puttin’ it, love.” 

“Oh hush.” You warmed, tucking your head down against his shoulder. 

“They’re all excited,” he murmured. “Might get a few rude sniffs, though.”

You couldn’t help it. You laughed quietly, relaxing into him. Which, of course, was his goal all along. 

“Promise, love,” he murmured. “Won’t be a problem.” 

You nodded, taking a deep breath. You’d just have to trust him for now. 

You two got off the train, Soap herding you through the station easily and out to the pickup area. A woman waved at the two of you, dark hair shining in the sunlight, an easy smile on her face. 

“‘Bout time,” she called as Soap herded you to her car, taking your bag to put in the back. “How was the trip?”

“Uneventful,” Soap said with a shrug.

"You must be his mate." She smiled at you. "I'm Layla." 

You gave her your name, a little shy. 

"Ah ken, Johnny willnae shuddup 'bout ye." She flashed a bright grin at you. 

You warmed and quickly got into the car. Soap settled next to you, ignoring Layla's snickering. 

"She's one o' my big sisters," Soap told you. "Got two more."

"Big family," you murmured. 

"Aye." He smiled at you. "Jeannie already has two bairns o' her own." 

You nodded, leaning a little into his side, unable to entirely quell your anxiety. Soap hummed softly, twining his fingers with yours. 

"Mum has everyone for dinner tonight," Layla said as she drove. 

"How many people is everyone?" You were almost afraid to ask. 

"No more'n twelve. Ach, no, fourteen, forgot the two littles." 

"Oh." You blinked. That… was a lot of people. 

"Ye'll be fine," Soap whispered to you. "Promised, aye?"

"Right." You breathed in deep, trying to relax. 

Layla chattered the rest of the drive, and you understood most of it. But she used some words you didn't know. Not that you said anything - you got the gist of it. Mostly, she and Soap caught up. 

Which worked great for you. 

Layla parked the cat outside a big house, and you swallowed. 

"C'mon, love." Soap patted your hand before he got out. 

One last deep breath and you got out too. The house was lovely, the grounds green and lush. 

And then there were four pups crowding around you, yipping and sniffing and (in one case) nipping. You squeaked, a little overwhelmed. 

"Behave!" Layla called, heading up to the house. The one that nipped you looked apologetic. 

"Uh, that's okay?" You patted the top of that one's head. 

All four pups crowded you again, little tails going a mile a minute. They all had that same wolf-husky look that you were used to from Soap, though they varied in color. Two were red and white, much like Soap, while one was mostly gray and the last was black and white. 

And all of them still had floofy puppy fur. 

"I… oh my god you're all cute," you muttered, looking down at the pups. "Is it okay if I pet you?" 

One of the pups immediately flopped over on his back for belly rubs. Which you obliged. Except you only had two hands and there were four pups. It took all of a minute for them to gang up on you and knock you flat on your back on the grass. 

A sharp whistle pierced the air, and the pups all scrambled off you. You sat up, pretty sure you looked disheveled now. 

"Ah, Mum wants t' see ye." Soap appeared to offer you a hand up, hauling you to your feet easily. His strength didn't surprise you anymore. 

He walked you up to the house and around back to a set of chairs and a table. His mum was very clearly his mum, her hair salted but still thick and dark, the same glint of humor in her eyes that you saw in Soap's. 

"Be welcome in our home," she said, soft and melodious. 

"Thank you." You sat when she waved to the chair across from her. 

"So, ye caught Johnny's eye." She gave you a quick once-over. 

"Seems that way." You smiled a little, nervous. 

"Good. He's a handful, but he's a good man." Her smile was soft and proud. 

"He is," you agreed. "Even though he did spring the whole shifter thing on me." 

His mum laughed. "Aye, he told us." 

"I suppose there was no good way to do it," you admitted. "And at least Captain Price was  pretty nice about the whole thing." 

"Was he? Good. Ah'd hate t' haveta have 'nother talk with him." 

"Another?" Your eyebrows shot up. 

"Oh aye." Her smile twinkled with mischievous glee.

"Tell me more?" You leaned forward, intrigued. 

"Johnny, be a dear an' go help yer da." 

Soap huffed but pressed a quick kiss to the top of your head. And left you alone with his mum. 

Who proceeded to tell you all about the time she yelled at Captain John Price and then informed him that the 141 had all been unofficially adopted. You kind of wished you'd been able to see that. 

At some point you were ushered inside and seated between Soap's mum and Soap. All three of his sisters were there, along with the five children between them - the four pups you'd sort of met, and one baby. His da was a quiet man that was quick to smile. 

It was the best kind of overwhelming, honestly. 

Until his sister Jeannie asked, "So when are ye having yer first?" 

You coughed as your drink attempted to go down the wrong way. Soap thumped your back, shooting his sister a look. 

"We, um, haven't talked about it," you said, gaze flitting between the lot of them. 

"Tha's a surprise." Maggie, the third sister, had both eyebrows raised as she looked between you two. 

"Maggie," Soap warned, eyes narrowed. 

"Just askin'," Maggie said, still looking between you and Soap. 

"No need ta growl," Jeannie added. 

You blinked and Soap actually did growl. And that was all it took for chaos to descend, the entire table weighing in with their opinion. It quickly became completely unintelligible, accents getting thicker and more completely unrecognizable words getting thrown in.

You quickly gave up on trying to translate anything and just sat there, shoulders a little hunched, watching it all with wide eyes. 

His da caught your eye and jerked his head, standing quietly. You followed suit. Nobody even batted an eye, all caught in the argument. 

Outside was much quieter, and his da sat in one of the chairs and patted another for you. 

"Are ye happy? With my boy?" 

"I am." You smiled, a little abashed. "I never expected any of this, and it was definitely a shock at first. But I'm happy." 

"That's all that matters." He smiled at you, warm and gentle. "Dinnae fuss 'bout the rest." 

"Okay." You relaxed. 

There was a shout from inside and then a chorus of puppy barks. His da sighed. 

"Is it always like this?" You couldn't help but ask, grinning. 

"Och aye. Mated to a hellion, I am." But he looked pleased with himself.

You couldn't help but laugh, just a little. It was actually pretty peaceful out here with just the two of you. 

Except then he stood, motioning you to wait. You blinked and watched him walk off to the side. But when he started to strip, you immediately looked away. You knew it wasn't a big deal, not to them, but you couldn't get over the ingrained feeling that you needed to look away. 

A big wolf padded over to you, darker brown with a tan underside. He was even bigger than Soap. He sat in front of you and rested his chin on your knee. 

"More comfortable that way?" You asked, curious. He huffed softly. "Can I…?" You held out one hand, waiting for him to tip his head in permission. Then you stroked the top of his head softly. "You really don't mind I'm not like you?" 

He looked up at you and very deliberately shook his head. You smiled. 

"Thank you." You relaxed into your chair, absently stroking the top of his head, listening to the furor inside slowly calm. 

"Love?" Soap poked his head out the door and huffed. "There ye are." 

"Mmhm." You smiled at him. "Nice and quiet out here. A bit chilly." 

That was all it took to have Soap draping himself over the back of your chair to be your personal space heater. His da huffed with doggie laughter. 

"Alright, love?" Soap nuzzled the crook of your neck. 

"Mmhm." You tipped your head a bit. "Long as nobody else asks about stuff we haven't discussed yet." 

The sudden, absolute silence from behind you was damning. You sighed. 

"Okay. What else came up?"

"Dinnae matter." Soap tightened his grip on you. 

"Hey." You poked his arm. "C'mon. Tell me so I'm prepared." 

Soap sighed. "They're wonderin' when we're gettin' mated. Properly." 

"Hm." You paused for a moment until his da budged your hand, then continued stroking his fur. "Can we put them off until we've talked about it?"

His da chuffed at you, soft but encouraging. Behind you, Soap chuckled. 

"That's a yes," he translated. "He likes ye."

"What can I say? I'm charming." You tipped your head to grin at him. 

"Ye charmed me," he agreed. 

"I picked you up on the side of the road."

"Charmed me with food."

You laughed, leaning back into him. "Best decision I ever made." 

"Ye are right smart." He kissed your cheek. "Ye ready to go to bed?"

You shrugged a little, careful not to disturb him. "In a few minutes. This is pretty nice." 

Soap hummed softly, nuzzling the crook of your neck again. 

"Full moon is in two nights?"

"Aye. We'll all go." He paused. "Unless ye want–"

"Absolutely not. You're going hunting with your family, sweetheart. I'll read." 

His da chuffed again, tail wagging slowly. Soap made a startled noise, and his da chuffed again. You knew you were missing that conversation, but you didn't feel left out. It was hard to feel anything bad when you were so securely between the two, both of them radiating warmth and comfort. 

"Da says he'll keep ye company, if ye like." 

"That's your choice," you told the wolf, stroking along one velvety ear. "I certainly won't say no, but I don't want to deprive you of the hunt."

His da huffed again and tipped his head into your hand. You didn't need a translation for that. You just smiled. 

Maybe his family wasn't so terrifying after all.

[spearmintsmut]

My own Mudblood 3

You whores get some smut now (and a touch of fluff) as a treat x

This turned out kinda long but I loved writing it ~

You woke up later than you would have liked, frustrated that you likely missed breakfast. You had stayed up far longer than you should have, replaying Draco’s voice over and over in your head. “Good girl,” he had praised, and though you knew he was being condescending, you couldn’t help but blush thinking about it. Was he always such a jerk or was it the war that did it to him? What was it like for him, having to live by his family’s impossibly strict rules of blood purity, their allegiance to the dark lord and having to serve him at such a young age? You had only been at a regular muggle highschool at that age, going shopping on weekends with your friends. Your eyes welled up thinking of your friends you had left behind, not able to tell them where you were going or why. While you would shop, and read and watch TV at that age, though they were more innocent hobbies than others in your grade, it was nothing compared to what Draco would have had to do then. He was just a boy you thought empathetically, before quickly snapping out of it. He doesn’t deserve sympathy, You tried to tell yourself, He’s an asshole. But still, you couldn’t help but wonder if it still affected him.

You got out of bed, covering yourself with your favourite silk nightgown to go and have a shower. You stepped into the oversized shower and let the hot water warm your skin. You tried to wash away the anger of having to move into the manor, and the anger and unwanted attraction toward Draco. You washed your body, mentally ridding yourself the embarrassment of having to be tutored by him.

You finally turned off the water and as you stepped out to grab one of the many soft towels when the door swung open. Your hands flew to your body to try and cover yourself as you turned to see who was there, and of course, it was Draco. You had sworn you locked it. He stared at you with the cat-that-got-the-canary grin he wore so well, and shook his head slowly.

“You need to learn to lock doors behind you,” he laughed, not taking his eyes off your body.

“You need to learn to knock!” you yelled, face burning up. He stared at you with clear amusement and lust, not trying to hide his wandering gaze. You wrapped the towel around yourself but before you could yell anymore, he interrupted your thoughts.

“Don’t get worked up mudblood. You have your first lesson today. Be ready in your room in 10,” He ordered and left. You splashed cold water on your flushed face and tried to calm your bubbling anger before pulling a t-shirt over your head and stepping into some shorts. You figured though they were short, it wasn’t another skirt for Draco to scold you over. After running a brush through your hair and taking a deep breath, you walked back to your room across the hall.

Draco was already in your room, sitting on the edge of your bed. Now that he wasn’t in the steamy bathroom, while you were stood naked, you were able to take a better look at him. He was wearing black dress pants, a white button down and black shoes. Overdressed in his own house, you mentally scoffed, though you couldn’t help but stare. His platinum blonde hair was combed back neatly and his brow was raised, looking at you.

“What?” you snapped.

“Nothing, I just don’t know how they expect me to treat you like a sister if you’re going to keep showering with the door unlocked,” He couldn’t wipe the smirk off his face as he watched your confused face turn into a scowl. You stormed closer to him and shoved him by his chest and he just laughed. “Rough. I like it.”

“Just, fucking, Ugh leave me alone!” You were already frustrated at his teasing and you held back tears of anger and embarrassment.

“Shhh I’m sorry, don’t have a sook,” Though his words were condescending, his voice was soft and apologetic. “Get your wand out and we’ll get started,” he ordered and you looked up at him through your lashes, eyes still pricked with tears. “Fine,” you choked out and did as he said. You sat on the bed next to him, wand in hand and waited for him to start.

“Have you used it yet?” he asked, nodding to your wand. You shook your head sheepishly, begging yourself not to get too embarrassed.

“Jesus, okay,” He looked surprised. “Let me show you something,” He said and grabbed your hand, leading you to the door. “Lock the door from the inside and come out with me,” He ordered. You did as he said, stepping out into the hallway with him and closing the locked door. He pointed his wand at the doorknob, his voice low and smooth “Alohomora.”

The door unlocked and he opened it. He locked it from inside and closed it once more.

“Now you try,” He said. You pointed your wand at the door, holding it awkwardly in your hand. “No, like this,” He said from behind you. He reached around you, repositioning your hand and holding his over your own. His skin was warm and soft, and you were finally able to make out the snake on his signet ring. “His breath tickled your ear as he leaned down and whispered in your ear “Say it.” You felt the goosebumps rise on your skin and you tried to ignore the shiver in your spine.

“Alohomora,” you said, trying to sound confident in yourself. The door unlocked and you sighed in relief.

“Thank you,” you said quietly.

“Thank you what?” He said, cockiness in his eyes. You stared at him confused for a moment before you replied.

“Thank you Draco,” He seemed pleased with himself and you couldn’t help but be proud of yourself too for finally casting your first spell, despite his condescension. Though you appreciated being sheltered from it after learning of the war, you still felt like a failure to have never learned the skills as a child like every other witch and wizard. You had to be thankful to your new step-family for teaching you now.

“Good girl,” There it was again, And it had the same effect on you as it did the night before. Something fluttered in your lower stomach and your breath hitched in your throat. You looked up at him with a shy smile, his praise replaying in your mind. His face was neutral, not brooding as usual but not smiling back either. It was hard to tell what he was thinking and wondering was no use. He looked down at you, eyes swimming with something as you stood with your neck craned to look up at him. He finally broke the silence and his voice filled the otherwise quiet room.

“I thought you should know how I got in to tell you about our lesson before,” he said, the corner of his mouth curling up into a wicked grin. You realised what he meant and your mouth dropped along with your stomach.

“You..You unlocked the door to see me naked?” You started to yell, eyes wide with fury. He held his hands up in fake defeat.

“Oh stop, I just needed to tell you about your lesson. You being naked was just a plus.”

You were beyond angry at the invasion of privacy, but excitement started to build in your chest at the same time. You tried to ignore it, brushing it off as anxiety, but you knew the feeling all too well. The same feeling you ignored when his hand rested on yours minutes before. You couldn’t let your step-brother know how you were feeling, so you tried to put up more of a fight.

“Don’t you ever do that again. You…you” you stuttered when he grabbed you by the cheeks, squeezing your face and angling it up to look into his eyes.

“Don’t tell me what to do in my own house, mudblood. I know what you were thinking at dinner last night,” His other hand grabbed your hip, pulling you closer to him. Your heart pounded against your chest and you wanted to pull away, but you froze in place. You were caught between feeling helpless, and liking it anyway. His fingertips pressed into your face and your hip, and his grey eyes seemed to darken as they pierced through yours. You were so lost in the feeling, you almost forgot what he said until he continued.

“I know about your dirty little secret. I know behind your hate for me, you really want to see what’s under my clothes. I also know you didn’t just agree to our little lessons to learn spells,” His face gave nothing away, except the lust that danced in his eyes. He pulled you closer so your chest was pressed against his stomach, and you drew in a sharp breath as you felt him hard against you. “That’s what you did to me with your little fantasies last night,” he spoke, barely a whisper in your ear. You could feel the heat pool between your legs that were now shaking and barely holding you up, but you tried again to resist.

“I don’t know what you’re on about. I..I didn’t do anything last night,” you said, though in the back of your mind, you had already accepted that he must have had some way to read your mind. You felt your cheeks burn but you almost liked the invasion of privacy that it was. You liked that he had that over you as much as it scared you.

“Don’t act dumb. You do have quite the imagination in that pretty little head of yours, don’t you?” Before you could answer, He grabbed your wrist, pressing your hand on his growing bulge, letting out a quiet moan as he did so. He started unbuttoning his black shirt.

“No..no you can’t,” you stuttered out, only to be met by a low chuckle.

“No? I’m just showing you what you wanted to see. Don’t try and tell me you weren’t wondering what’s under here” he raised a brow as he undid the last button.

Against your better judgement, your gaze travelled down his chest and you notice the many deep scars and marks. Then you noticed it. The dark mark that still painted the perfect porcelain skin on his arm. You stared a little longer than you probably should have before he stepped close to you again.

“You happy now hmm?” he asked and you nodded, almost in a trance.He put his other hand to your hip and lifted you up. Before you could resist, or even think clearly, You wrapped your legs around him. He laid you down on your bed and you rolled your hips up, desperate for the contact against him again but he just hovered, not giving you what you wanted.

He traced his finger up your thigh and you were torn between pushing him off you and begging for more. You had never gone this far with anyone, and to finally do so with Draco felt wrong, but you didn’t have the strength to stop. His cologne filled your head when too much want.

“This is wrong Draco get off. You’re my step-brother” you barely whispered, silently hoping he wouldn’t.

He pressed his hand over your mouth and shushed you. “Don’t you dare pretend you don’t want this” He said as he leaned over to grab his wand. He cast a silencing spell on the room so their parents wouldn't hear then, before looking back down at you. He grabbed your wrists, holding them both above your head with one hand as the other came between your bodies. His finger traced your lower stomach before he unzipped your shorts and pulled them down your legs and off your body. He moaned in approval and dragged a finger over your underwear. They were already soaked through and his eyes widened as he felt it.

“Fuck, are you seriously this wet for your step brother already?” he mocked as he started to rub circles on your clit, over your panties. You tried to argue but all that came from your mouth was a whimper. You were already growing impatient and bucked your hips up for more but he stopped you with a light smack to your clit. You yelped in a mixture of pleasure and pain, which was met with a satisfied smirk.

Finally, he pulled your panties off your legs, stuffing them in his pocket. “Mine,” he said in a low voice before he leaned down kissing up your thighs. Your breath hitched in your throat and watched as his blonde hair fell in a perfect mess.

He licked up your slit and you moaned from the sudden, wet contact. You felt him smile between your legs as he wrapped his mouth around your clit and sucked lightly. The part of your mind that told you to stop, that it was wrong, was long lost and ignored and your head fell back against the pillow.

He lifted his face off you and you whimpered at the loss of contact, meeting his gaze from between your thighs.

“Please,” you begged pathetically, desperate for him in a way that was new to you.

“Please what? Use your words, mudblood,”

For the first time, his name for you didn’t enrage you.

“Please don’t stop,” you begged through heavy breaths.

“Look who finally found her manners,” he grinned before his mouth found its way back to your clit. He gripped your thigh with his large hands before he pushed a finger into your soaked cunt, curling it before pulling almost all the way out again. He repeated at a steady pace before he added another finger. His rings felt cold against you, and you rolled your hips up at the new sensation.

“F-Fuck Draco,” you let out, loud enough that without the silencing spell on the room, you would have both been caught out. Though you had never been able to make yourself cum, the feeling winding up in your lower stomach told you that this time you would, and soon. Your first orgasm belonging to Draco made your head spin, but you were too far gone to stop yourself, or him. You gripped his hair, legs starting to shake uncontrollably on either side of him.

“I-I’m -“ you started to say and Draco cut you off,

“That’s it, mudblood let it out,” he said before circling your clit with his tongue. Between that, his fingers working on you and his gruff voice coaxing you closer, you felt yourself start to peak, and finally come undone. Your back arched and mouth fell into an O, leaving you a shaking, moaning mess. He slowed down, but kept his fingers in you curling, as you rode out your high, moaning his name over and over. He lifted himself up, kissing your thighs as he did so, and layed beside you in the bed.

Your chest was rising and falling as you came back to your senses slowly. Though you knew what you did was wrong, and couldn’t be undone, you couldn’t find it in yourself to regret it either. He looked at you with pride written all over his normally stoic face. You hid your face against his chest in embarrassment, and to your surprise, he stroked your hair, resting his cheek on the top of your head. You had expected him to laugh at you, call you names, or to demand you return the favour but he didn’t. Finally, you spoke up, with a shaky breath.

“I- that- that was my first-“

“I think you mean thank you,” he said,cutting you off and you could hear the smile in his voice. “Next time I won’t be so nice,” he added, and despite your lack of experience, the thought excited you.

••

[swiftieblyth]

Blyth Family: But Daddy I Love him, I’m having his baby:)

warnings-pregnancy, fluff, let me know what else

“You feeling okay?” Tom asked, sitting down next to you.

“Yeah,” you smiled looking down at your bump (you’re finally showing! It’s like you blew up over night) hands running along it. “I’m great.”

“Did I tell you, you look absolutely gorgeous?” Tom smirked, putting his hands on your bump, kissing up and down your neck.

“Mm, stop.” You moaned.

“Stop what? Stop telling my pregnant wife that’s she’s beautiful?” Tom whispered, kissing below your ear.

“Mm, stop. Tommy, stop, you’re gonna make me want more.”

“I’m sorry my love, you’re just so pretty.” Tom smiled, moving his kisses to your face.

“Tommy, do you want me to start making another one?”

“Is that a bad thing?”

There was a bark that knocked both of you out of your moment. “Lady!” You smiled, looking down at your princess. “Tommy, pick her up, I want to cuddle with her.”

“Of course my love.” Tom smiled, bending down and picking up Lady who gladly let him pick her up. “You want to cuddle with mummy and your baby brother or sister, princess?” Lady let out a little yelp as Tom started to hand her to you. “Just remember to be careful with Mummy’s tummy, your baby sibling is in there.”

“She will be.” You smiled, holding her to your chest as she licked your face. “Aww, my sweet little Lady, I love you so much! And so does your baby sibling.” All of a sudden your smile faded and tears threatened to spill.

“What is it, darling?” Tom asked, putting his hands on either of your shoulders. “Hey, what’s wrong, baby?”

“Tommy, I’m not going to be able to fit in any of my clothes.”

“Oh, honey.” Tom cooed, wiping a tear from your face. “Is that what you’re worried about, my love?” You nodded as he kissed your head. “That’s okay, we can go shopping. We’ll go tomorrow and get clothes for both home and the Bahamas. How does that sound?”

“I love you,” you cried.

“I love you more. I love you and our little babies so much.” Tom smiled, wrapping an arm around you. You held Lady in your arms as you leaned into Tom’s side, head resting in his chest. “It’s okay, love. Don’t worry about it. Stress isn’t good for the baby.”

“I know,” you cried.

“Sh, sh. It’s okay. I’ve got you. I’ve got both of you. How about we watch a movie yeah?”

💜💜💜

“Tommy,” you whispered, the next morning, laying in bed and shaking him awake. “Tommy, wake up.”

“What is it my love?” He asked, turning to look at you.

“I’m hungry.”

“Okay, darling. What do you and the baby want?”

“I want coffee, but baby wants chocolate chip pancakes with syrup, wipe cream, and chocolate chips.”

“Okay. Hey, that’s okay, don’t cry.” Tom cooed, wrapping you up in his arms.

“I’m sorry I woke you up.”

“Hey, don’t worry about that.” Tom explained, kissing your head. “You can wake me up anytime you need me. How about we go out and get something to eat, and then get you some new clothes, yeah?”

“I’m too big to god out in public.” You pouted.

“No you’re not. You are the perfect size you need to be right now, okay?”

“I love you.”

💜💜💜

“Taylor!” You squealed when you saw her at the beach house you all were sharing.

“Y/N!” Taylor smiled, running up to you, and carefully hugging you. “How are you?”

“I’m good! I missed you so much!”

“I’ve missed you too, honey.” Taylor smiled, pulling away, looking down at your stomach. “Look at you, you’re getting so big, in a good way!”

“Thank you!” You smiled, looking down at your bump as Tom hugged Taylor and Travis walked in.

“There’s my babygirl!” Travis smiled.

“Hey, Trav,” you smiled, hugging him.

“How are you feeling? Feeling sick or anything?”

“Trav, I’m fine.” You smiled, pulling away, as Tom shook Travis’s hand.

“Come on, come set.” Taylor let out as Lady played with the cats. Well at least she tried to. Benji played at least. “So, I’m dying to know. Do you know the gender yet?”

“No, we’re waiting until we get home.” You explained, one hand wrapped around Tom’s waist, the other on your bump.

“We have an appointment for the Monday after we get back.” Tom smiled, one arm wrapped around your waist, holding you close to him, the other running up and down your bump.

“Do you think you know what it will be?” Travis asked. “Or at least what you want?”

“Tom wants a girl, he thinks that’s what it’ll be. I just want my baby outside of me. I don’t care what the gender is.”

💜💜💜

“You tired Lady?” You asked, lying down on a towel in the sand with Lady laying next to you, your hand running over her back. “Mommy’s tired too. Baby’s making me tired.”

You felt water dripping onto you, and hands running along your bump. You looked up to see your husband smiling down at you.

“How are you doing love? Are you too hot? Did you put enough sunscreen on? Do you need the umbrella?”

“I’m tired, and my boobs freaking hurt, but otherwise I’m okay. How were the waves?”

“They were good.” Tom smiled, sitting I. The sand next to you. Lady heard him and jumped up, looking around for him.

“You here Daddy?” You smiled, looking at her.

She got up and did a little trot around you to get to him. “Hi, princess,” Tom chuckled, picking her up. She licked his arms tasting the salt water and quickly nuzzled into a comfortable position. “You’re so cute, my little princess.”

“She’s so spoiled.” You smiled, petting her.

“Yeah. But so is our other one going to be.” Tom added. “Taylor and Travis are out swimming, how about we head back and I give you a bath?”

“Will you message my boobs while you’re at it?”

“Of course honey. And we can also talk about names.”

“I love you.”

💜💜💜

“I love when you do this,” you hummed, lying in a bubble bath as Tom massaged your tender boobs carefully in his big hands.

“I know.” He smiled, looking down at you. Your head was leaning back on the tub, eyes closed and a tired but content smile on your face. “You starting to feel better?”

“Yes.” You hummed, slowly opening your eyes and seeing Tom’s baby blue eyes looking at you with love. “Thank you for doing this darling.”

“Of course, my love.” Tom smiled, kissing your head. “You wanna talk about names?”

“Well, ever since I was a teenager I knew what I wanted to name my future son.”

“And what would that be love?”

“Jonah. Like after my favorite story growing up.”

“I think that’s amazing my love. If we have a boy we’ll name him Jonah.”

“And what about if it’s a girl?”

“I always liked the name McKinley for a girl.”

“Oh, that’s pretty.” You smiled, closing your eyes again, as Tommy lightly squeezed your boobs. “I like that. If it’s a girl we should name her that.”

“You seem really tiered my love. How about I wash your hair and help you to bed.”

“I don’t want to go to bed with my hair wet.” You pouted.

“Then how about once we’re done, we go sit in bed, and I’ll braid your hair?”

💜💜💜

“Tommy,” you let out. You were sitting on the bed with Lady resting on your bump as Tom braided your hair. “You’re going to start having to do this all the time. You’re so good at it.”

“Well, thank you my love.” Tom smiled. “How about when I’m done I go put some of those frozen pizzas in the oven for us?”

“That sounds amazing! When there done will you bring me the ice cream to put on them?”

“Of course, honey.” Tom smiled, kissing your head.

💜💜💜

y/nblyth posted

Taylor and Triv said swimming. Daddy said surfing, Lady said cuddle and be cute. Mummy said sleepy. And baby said make Mummy sleepy.

💜💜💜

You let out a small moan as you stirred awake. You smiled as you felt Tom’s arms wrapped around your waist, hands on your bump, Lady resting on your bump, cuddling into your chest.

You carefully picked up Lady who fluttered her eyes open.

“Hi, princess,” you smiled, bringing her to your face. She liked your face and let out a noise. “Shh, Daddy’s still asleep.” You whispered, kissing her head. “Mummy needs to pee, how about you cuddle with Daddy.”

Lady wagged her tail as you put her on your pillow and carefully moved Tom’s hands.

He moaned and wrapped his arms tighter around you. “Where you going?” He mumbled, sleep very present in his voice.

“I need to pee honey.” You let out moving his arms. “Go back to sleep, I love you.”

“I love you too,” he mumbled, holding Lady to his bare chest.

💜💜💜

After you went to the bathroom you snuck out of the bedroom and out to the front porch.

You were setting on a rocking chair, looking out at the ocean, listening to the waves, hand on your bump as you thought about everything.

“I thought I heard you come out here,” Taylor said, gaining your attention as she sat on the chair next to you. “What are you thinking about?”

“Life,” you let out, looking at her.

“What about life?”

“Everything. The baby, Lady, Tom, me. My family. And what I’m going to do next.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I mean I’m about to be a mom. And that’s terrifying.” You let out.

“Hey,” Taylor let out, putting her hand on your, on top of the bump. “You’re going to be an amazing mom.”

“It’s just terrifying. And the fact that I’m growing a life inside of me and that I’ll have to push them out. Taylor I’ve never been more scared in my life.”

“I know honey. But you have Tom and Lady. You have me and Triv, Rachel and Josh. Honey y oh have everyone to help you through this. We’re all going to be here for you. Especially Tom. Yiu know that.”

“I know.” You breathed. “It’s just what am I going to do? I can’t just sit around for twenty ish weeks growing a baby. I need to be able to do something.”

“Arn’t you working on some books?”

“I was. But I just don’t know if I’m going to do that anymore.”

“Why not?”

“Taylor, I’m going to have a baby. I’ll need to be able to take care for them, and Lady. And J know how much Tom loves his job. And babies have such a high risk of feeling rejected and abandoned, so I just don’t think it’s a good idea for me to go back. I don’t want my baby to feel that way. Tom and I already love them so much and nothing will change that, and I want them to know it.”

“Honey,” Taylor let out, cupping your face as a few tears fell to you cheeks. “Look at me. That baby isn’t even born yet and has half the world loving them. And all of your friends and family already loves them so much and can’t wait to take turns looking after them. And Lady loves them, she’s going to have so much fun playing with them. And honey, most importantly you and Tom love this baby more than anyone does. Your baby’s never going to feel rejected or unloved or abandoned or anything. It’s going to be hard at first, yeah. But talk to Tom about this. He won’t want you quoting anything okay? You two will be able to work something out on how to maintain and continue both of your careers as well as taking care of your family and baby.”

“Thank you.” You cried as Taylor got up.

“Of course honey.” Taylor smiled, getting on her knees and hugging you. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too so much!”

💜💜💜

y/nblyth posted

I had I great time in the with Tay and Trav! And of course my wonderful husband, and our babies. Lady was so cute and cuddly, and baby girl Blyth was enjoying herself, making her mummy tired! But we still love her so much and can’t wait to meet her!

[fandomnerd9602]

Square Dance: Promenade

Part Three of Square Dance Series

Country!Wanda x Male Reader

How could time be so cruel? You had fallen in love with your best friend's sister, shared your first kiss together, and all in the span of a couple days. You didn't think it was possible. But now that week vacation was coming to an end.

You almost dreaded it now. Soon the corporate cogs would swallow you back in its mechanical grip and you'd have to leave the Maximoff homestead for who knows how long.

It was the day before you had to leave when Wanda approached you in the early morning, "I wanna have a date with you, city boy"

"A date?"

"Yeah a day date" she smiled at you with that thousand watt smile.

You and Wanda spent the entire day on the town. Piet and Crystal joined you for lunch at the local diner. It felt lively, it felt energetic. It felt like home with the Maximoffs.

You and Wanda explored the downtown area, rode horses together. You listened to Dolly Parton records at the local record shop. You even filmed one of her strumming sessions and taught her how to post it online.

But the sun was like a harsh hourglass as the evening drew. You understood that your time on the Maximoff homestead was nearing its end. You sat out on the porch, just trying to take in the setting sun one last time.

“I gotta go” Piet exclaimed gruffly that evening, walking out to you, “crystal needs me at…umm…the thing”

He looked to Wanda and she looked to you, giving you a little wink. And with that Piet left in his pick up truck.

You sat down on the porch, your eyes looked up to the nighttime sky. Wanda sat next to you with her guitar.

“What you thinking, city boy?” She asked.

“The stars. They’re the same as the ones back in the city.”

“Tell ya what. As long as you’re looking up at them stars, so will I. And I’ll always think of you”

“Deal. I’ll always think of you too.” The two of you made that silent promise. Wanda gave you a sad smile and began to strum on her guitar.

(Bless the Broken Road [Acoustic] - Rascal Flatts)

I set out on a narrow way many years ago

Hoping I would find true love along the broken road

But I got lost a time or two

Wiped my brow and kept pushing through

I couldn't see how every sign pointed straight to you

The two of you just gazed out to the stars. The eternal midnight promise of your love for one another. As long as you could see the stars, you’d think of your country girl.

That every long lost dream led me to where you are

Others who broke my heart, they were like Northern stars

Pointing me on my way into your loving arms

This much I know is true

That God blessed the broken road

That led me straight to you

Wanda leaned her head against your shoulder. “We’ll find our way back to each other”

“I hope so” you said, your heart heavy with grief.

“Come on,” she got up from her spot on the porch. “Let’s get some viddles”

“Viddles?” You asked.

Turns out it’s just another word for food around the area. Wanda and you settled into having one last meal together before tomorrow. She insisted on cooking. “Alright darling” she said as she slid the plate across the table to you, “eat up!”

You noticed how she took a little bit of your meal on her thumb and then licked it clean off. How you wished you could kiss her and suck on those plump beautiful ruby red lips of hers. And then she sat down across from you with her own plate.

"Go on" she chuckled, "eat up"

You took a bite of the steak and eggs set before you. Wanda's whole demeanor was anticipation, just waiting for your reaction. The second the bit of steak hit your lips, it was like food nirvana. A tiny moan escaped your lips. A mischievous smile made its way across Wanda's eyes and lips like a cat who finally caught its mouse.

"You like it?" she asked with a hint of mischief.

"Love it. Best steak I've had in a long time" you smiled back.

"Good" she giggles, "I like the sound you made," she gives you a little wink. You couldn't help but blush.

"So what happens now?"

"No matter what" she whispered, "I'm glad I got to spend this week with you. I ain't ever gonna forget about you."

"You're gonna go far, Wanda" you took her hand, "you're gonna forget about me when you up there, on the stage, touring. With your millions of fans"

"Aw shoot," she giggled, "I don't think a million and one fans could ever make me forget about you"

The two of you just sat there in silence. You didn't want this night to end. If there was some way to stretch it on into infinity you wished you could. You just wanted to spend it with Wanda.

"I-I'm gonna go wash up." She offered a sad smile. And then got up.

It left you wondering. Was the corporate world really what you wanted? You had the most wonderful gal in your arms one moment and the next she would be gone.

You wandered the hallway. The sound of the shower had died out awhile back. You just walked right up to Wanda's bedroom door. She was probably asleep by then.

All you wanted to do was going into her room and hold her tight. But you understood it was better this way. You were of two separate worlds. Two ships that were passing in the harbor at the same time. You could never ask her to give up her tour just to stay with you in the city.

“I’m sorry Wanda” you whispered to her door before leaving.

You walked into your room to grab a towel for your own shower and came face to face with a sight that both surprised and delighted you.

There she was, a goddess among mortals, the bedsheet tucked under her arms. Your country girl was looking at you with those doe like eyes filled with love and desire for you. Her hair still damp with water. She was stark naked and beautiful as ever, only covered by that gossamer sheet.

“We only got tonight, city boy” she said softly. “And I wanna spend it with you”

You were left dumbfounded, but in the best possible way.

“So…” she asked with a smirk, “you just gonna admire the view or you wanna ride?”

You smiled and took off your shirt before joining her in your bed. If tonight was all you two had, then you make it last as long as possible.

You got under the covers. Wanda reached up and began kissing you once, twice. She giggled as she switched positions with you and straddled your waist, letting the bed sheet fall away.

"My city boy" she giggled before allowing you and her to become lost in the infinite moment, two hearts becoming one.

To Be Concluded…

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