#danielle's reading nook

[daniellesreadingnook]

Part 2 of my trip to comic con!!

Can’t wait to read them!!

[csparkles123]

The contrast in Louis' favorite past times from when he was with Lestat to when he is with Armand is so interesting to me.

From what we have been shown, it appears that Louis' favorite past times include reading (the man always has a book in his hands) and being in nature.

When he was with Lestat, we saw him with a book in his hands, all the time

Heard him mention how many books he had read

Had Lestat reference the pleasure Louis recieved from reading

And we even learned that Louis had a favorite bookshop

For his other favorite past time, we always saw Louis surrounded by nature, mostly by trees in the park

But we did also see him go to the lake with Claudia

Fast-forward to 2022 and this is not the case anymore. The interior of the Penthouse seemingly clarifies that Louis has the same favorite past times, but it is far more controlled.

While he has a full library, all the books are suspended in the air and appear to only be accessible to someone who can fly, which we know Louis can not

Its been a while since I've watched all the epsiodes fully, but I'm pretty sure the only book we've seen Louis pick up is Daniel's book, which did not come from the library.

For his love of nature, the interior of the reading room is clearly meant to emulate nature, but is still artificial. The little nook has one tree, one source of light, a couple of stones, and gravel.

Since it has been over 80 years, it is fair to say that Louis' hobbies may have changed, but when Louis became distraught and started to breakdown, he didn't run to the "love of his life," he ran to the little corner of nature he has in the Penthouse and put is feet in the gravel to comfort himself and regain composure. I think this shows that Louis is still in touch with nature and is soothed by it, but is unable to truly reach it now.

Now, I don't want to assume Armand's and Louis' relationship, but from what I've seen, Louis is not in control here and does not appear to be free.

[foli-vora]

congrats on 3k!! Not sure if you're still doing this, but can I request something smutty with agent whiskey with the prompt "can we go home yet?"

Thank you for the request, my sweet! I'm so sorry for the time it took to get around to it, but I hope you enjoy! ❤️

errands

jack daniels x f!reader

word count: 1.7k warnings: i love him sm, sweet husband jack will give you everything, jack being a sexy menace, semi public/parking lot activities, swearing, SMUT 18+ ONLY: what's a domesticity kink called? idk, whatever it is we've got that. fingering, orgasm denial, can't not use this gif lmao

The familiar churning of warmth in the pit of your stomach has followed you relentlessly throughout the day, despite you leaving your shared bed much later than socially acceptable after a long morning lost in Jack’s hold. There’s a gentle ache between your thighs from his dedicated efforts, the feeling never once letting your mind wander from the way he unravelled every part of your body and soul over and over.

And this? This wasn’t helping.

The confidence he oozed striding through the hardware store, knowing exactly what he wanted and where he would get it. The way he would ramble about the house renovation plans; what rooms could be what, where he could build you a little reading nook with a window overlooking the endless rolling green fields, or what materials he would need to make some floor to ceiling built in bookcases for your shared collection of books…

His excitement at dedicating his variety of skills into bringing your dream home to life is palpable, bringing forth such a fond tenderness to your chest that it makes you swear you couldn’t possibly love this man anymore if you tried. It rolls from him in waves now, as he wanders with his full cart of various renovation necessities and voicing his thoughts on what particular paint colours would match your shared vision.

It’s just all so sweet, so domestic.

It’s driving you wild.

Lips wrapping around the straw of your soda cup, you study the broad planes of his back, covered by his ever present leather jacket that thankfully stops just above the soft swell of his ass—bless that man for knowing how to pick his jeans. If it weren’t for the sweet elderly couple flicking through colour swatches at the end of the aisle, you simply would’ve crowded him into the shelves just for a much needed taste of his mouth, and maybe a quick feel—

“You listenin’ to me back there?”

“Not really,” you admit honestly, tongue rolling across your lower lip as he gives you a playful frown of disapproval from over his shoulder. That familiar heat rises and swells in your core, and you shift impatiently on your feet. “Can we go home yet?”

He chuckles, reaching out to pluck a paintbrush from the shelf and feeling the synthetic fibres between his fingers. “You gettin’ bored, darlin’? Is that why you’ve been poutin’ the last two aisles?”

“I haven’t been pouting.”

“Mhm,” he rumbles deeply, lips tugged up into a small smile of amusement as he continues his perusal of the variety of painting accessories. Eventually he lands on the ones he finds somewhat satisfactory, and tosses them into the cart before beckoning you closer with an open hand reached out behind him.

You take it and press up into his side easily, sighing softly at the heavy arm that wraps around your shoulders and the lips that press gently against your temple. The heat from his body seeps into yours while a wash of his familiar cologne assaults your nostrils, and it takes every bit of strength to not tilt your head and catch his lips in a searing kiss that would go scaring away any and everyone within range.

God, he just smells so damn good. 

“Okay, so I may have been pouting—but it’s all your fault.”

He chuckles, the deep throaty timbre of it twisting pleasantly in your core, and what really kills you is that he has no idea the actual effect he has on you. Everything about him either sends you into a sweet and dizzying lovesick spiral, or hurtling straight into the fiery depths of hell with the thoughts that turn in your mind.

“Is that right? How so, sugar?”

You sigh, turning in his hold and raking a finger down his chest, winding around the buttons of his shirt as it goes. “All I can think about is fucking you right in the middle of this aisle, Jack.”

He blinks in surprise, taken off guard and rendered slightly bewildered by your admittance. “Come again?”

“Yes—I’m planning on it actually, again and again.”

A grin quickly tugs at his lips and his eyes flicker to the passersby going about their days as he tugs you closer, his thick drawl oozing into your ears, “You’re gonna get us thrown out if you keep that talk up, sugar.”

“Good, then we could go home and waste the afternoon away.”

He sighs, trying to appear vexed by your apparent disinterest in your errands, but the smile still tugging insistently at his lips gives him away. You see the playful sparkle in his eyes, the desperate want to give you everything you need and more, and you know you’ve got him right where you want him.

“Come on, Jack,” you coo, dragging him in for another kiss with just a taste of everything you’re feeling that leaves him chasing your lips when you eventually pull away, “let’s go home. Let me have you.”

“You’ll be the end of me, you know that?” He grumbles quietly before shaking his head, winding a hand down to grab teasingly at your ass cheek and giving it a firm tap that sends a rocket of heat hurtling straight to your core. “Fine. Registers—now. And no dawdlin’, go on now.”

It takes an agonisingly long time to pay, and you’re sure he does it on purpose. Jack lingers, happily chatting away to the older man serving you, and he has to know how impatient it’s making you because you swear you spy a smirk lingering at the edge of his lips as you start to shift from foot to foot. 

You pounce as soon as he slides into the driver's seat, curling a hand around his neck and bringing his mouth greedily to yours. He responds quickly, unable to pull away from the lure of your kiss, lips parting and tongue meeting yours in a tangle of need. You groan into the heat of his mouth, relishing in the burn of his moustache as the kiss deepens. It does nothing to douse the fire wreaking havoc on your body, and you shift restlessly in your seat, thighs rubbing as you search for something to aid in your distress.

He chuckles, the force of his kiss moving you back into your seat as he crowds into you over the middle console, a hot hand splaying on the skin of your thigh to calm your agitation. 

The words rumble against your lips softly, “You want it right here, sugar?”

Public indecency be damned—you need something. It’s not like you’re close to the store where people mill about, with Jack always preferring to park a ways away so there’s minimal risk of someone scratching the sleek and shiny paint of the Bronco. There’s no one around, it’s just you two… just you two, in your own little piece of bliss. 

You pant softly into his mouth while nodding, fire growing up and along your spine as his rough fingers start to push up beneath the hem of your sundress. You’re already squirming from the familiar feel of them, system wired tightly in keen anticipation to feel them brush against you.

“You’re a greedy little thing today,” he murmurs, fingers coaxing your thighs to widen as they begin to dip their way beneath the waistband of your underwear.

A groan reverberates from his chest when he gently glides them along your slit to feel the heavy build up of arousal, taking a painfully long moment to simply feel you, before zoning in on your clit with the lightest of pressures. He circles softly over it, darkened eyes bouncing over your features as you relish in the hazy roll of pleasure taking over your body.

He ducks to press a series of open mouthed kisses to the side of your throat, teeth teasingly nipping at the sensitive skin and tongue soothing the brief pinch of pain away before the curve of his nose traces the shell of your ear. His honeyed drawl brings a shiver across your skin, and it really should be fucking illegal with the things it makes you feel.

“You been walkin’ around like this all morning, honey? You poor thing.”

Finally—God, finally—he allows his fingers to dip down and tease at your entrance, swirling two thick digits shamelessly through your arousal before sliding and curling them deep against the walls of your cunt. He’s quick to swallow the broken sounds that fall from your throat, his lips quirking up into a self satisfied smirk against yours as your hips squirm needily against the pressure of his hand.

“Go on, sugar. Take what you need, I’ve got you.”

You begin a somewhat messy rock of your hips, unashamedly beginning to fuck yourself on his fingers and ensuring to keep the calloused heel of his hand pressed up hard against your swollen clit. It provides the friction you need, you crave, with every back and forth roll against the rough surface of it causing the overwhelming heat in your core to build.

It’s just what you need. It’s just—it’s perfect. The feel of his thick digits dragging against your hot, slick walls; the relentless pressure against your clit; the perfect harmony of both working in tandem to bring a wash of electricity across your nerves, to bring you closer to that blissful edge you feel coming with every tense second—

“G-god, Jack—”

“I know, baby. I know.”

And… fuck. It’s right there, you’re right there—

—only for it to be just out of reach.

The feeling heightens, lingers, and then horrifically melts away into a throbbing ache as Jack retracts his fingers completely, the thick digits glistening from your flood of arousal in the sunlight filled cab.

He ignores your agonised cry of denial from the sudden loss and emptiness, and sucks them into his mouth, before reaching and turning the keys in the ignition, the truck rumbling to life loudly beneath you while you’re left trembling against the leather, thighs spread and cunt weeping.

“That’s what you get for bein’ impatient,” he drawls, a wicked shine to those warm honey eyes. “Now you sit pretty for the ride home, and I may be nicer when I get that sweet ass of yours inside.”

[desertfangs]

Vamptember - Day 4 - "And why were such things made in the world?"

Lestat & Daniel - Night Island Era - 1201 words

Lestat sat in the library—well, he assumed it was a library. Why this place had so many parlors and sitting rooms was confounding, but then he never did understand Armand. He’d built this house at the edge of the ocean, on an island designed for mortals that operated all night. Oh, of course the idea was magnificent! Lestat couldn’t deny that. 

But the house itself was a thing of madness, a mansion built for two, him and his then-mortal lover,  and yet there were a seemingly endless number of rooms, as if Armand thought perhaps the way to keep someone near was to keep them from ever finding an exit. 

The massive Villa had been relatively quiet tonight. Not empty, no, it was rarely that, but quiet enough that Lestat decided to wander from the room he’d commandeered as an office and stretch his legs. On his way to this library, he’d walked past another parlor where Marius sat on a sofa watching a black and white film, Pandora stiffly sitting in the chair next to him. Lestat had hurried past so as not to disturb them. And he sensed others in the house, though he didn’t think Louis was among them.

He’d found this little nook of a room in a corner, smaller than some of the others and lined with bookshelves. He opened the window wide to let in the ocean breeze and then grabbed a stack of books at random, setting them the elegant oak side table next to the plush red chair where he planted himself and began to flip through the books idly. 

Now here he sat, holding a book and wondering why he wasn’t out on the island causing trouble. Or on the mainland, basking in the neon lights that glowed against the white stucco that was so popular here in Miami. But when he thought of stepping out the front door—assuming he could find the damn thing—he felt a strange sense of disquiet. A discomfort that bled from his bones. 

Someone appeared in the doorway and he glanced up, surprised to see Daniel. Daniel was a handsome young man, now immortal by Armand’s hand. Tall and narrow-framed with ashen blond hair and stunning eyes that held a scholar’s curiosity. He wore jeans and a t-shirt for the band “Tears for Fears.” Lestat had seen the band on MTV, their videos playing alongside his own. 

Daniel seemed vaguely surprised to see Lestat in this room, though whether it was due to his choice of room or because he was out at all, he didn’t know.

“Do not add, ‘and why were such things made in the world?’” Daniel said.

Lestat frowned at him. 

Daniel laughed. “The book. Meditations. Marcus Aurelius.” He gestured to the book in Lestat’s hand. 

Lestat smiled at him. “Have you read every book in this room?” 

Daniel laughed again and sat down in the other plush red chair, bringing his ankle up to his knee in a casual way. “No. To tell you the truth, I’m not sure where most of these came from.” 

Lestat liked Daniel. He had an easy manner about him. He was a little distractible, still new enough in the blood that everything was a spectacle, but he enjoyed listening to others talk, eager to soak up every bit of knowledge from those around him. Lestat could see why this boy and his curiosity had captured Armand’s attention. 

“I remember that line because Armand and I read it together in this class we took, and it was sort of ironic, given that Armand is always asking why everything exists, you know?” He ran his fingers through his soft hair. 

Lestat knew that line, too, because it had been shouted at him once by a furious Claudia, her eyes full of a rage no small child should feel. She’d quoted it at him to mock him for telling her not to question things, in part because Louis had been reading the book aloud a few nights before. 

The memory slammed into him suddenly and he could picture it with perfect clarify. The gas lamps flickering shadows on the wallpaper, the balmy night air. Claudia’s curls bouncing as she raged and demanded he answer her questions. Louis lurking in the hall, not daring to cross the threshold into the room, and not trying to stop her, to calm her. Not trying to help him. 

But Lestat hadn’t done much to help the situation, either. He could have given her something. Told her some of what he knew, of his past. He’d been so determined to hold those cards close to his chest and certainly that had been a mistake. Would it have a made difference in the end? 

“Deep thoughts?” Daniel asked. 

Lestat forced a smile. “Are there any other kind?” 

Daniel laughed. “I’d say so.” He stood and looked out the open window, though at what or why, Lestat wasn’t sure. And then he sat back down, leg crossed, ankle up on his kee. “I guess we know now, huh?” 

“Know?” Lestat wasn’t following whatever track Daniel was on.

“Why things such as us were made. Or at least how. Amel, Akasha…” 

Lestat winced at the name. It was an involuntary response and he hoped Daniel didn’t notice, but it was immediately obvious he had. Daniel winced himself.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to…” Daniel trailed off and studied the bookshelf beside him. “I know it was hard for you.” 

Lestat felt a strange pang in his chest. Hard, yes, it had been. He had loved her, hadn’t he? She was misguided and had to be stopped. But maybe if things had happened another way, she might have been saved. He wouldn’t admit it to anyone, not even Louis, but he often laid awake before sunrise imagining how he might have done things differently. For Claudia. For Akasha. For all of them who’d gone. 

Not that he regretted the band or the book. Or even the violin. She would have awoken sooner or later. It was their time together he turned over and over in his mind every morning before the sun took him, trying to find a place he might have shifted course. 

Daniel tapped his fingers against the arm of the chair. Then he jumped to his feet. “Have you seen the record store?” 

Lestat looked at him curiously. “Which one?” 

“The one over at the plaza here on the island. It’s well curated. They always have the best stuff. Come on, I’ll show you.” 

Lestat hesitated. He hadn’t planned to leave the Villa the tonight. But Daniel was practically vibrating with excitement and he supposed it might do him good to go for a walk and see this little record store on this island Armand built. And perhaps leaving the walls of this absurd mansion would do him good, after all. 

And maybe if this record store had copies of his album in LP—there had been a limited release—he could even autograph them, up their value. Be the rockstar again for another brief moment. Yes, that was just what he needed. 

He leapt to his feet. “All right. Lead the way.” 

[mxpseudonym]

Great!

Can I please request a male reader x tommy Shelby where the male reader is a private teacher for Tommy’s children and tommy falls in love with him

It’s ok if you dont feel like it, no pressure 🌸✨

A/N: I hope you enjoy! This was very sweet to write and I even snuck a little Esme in there.

--

Charlie asked him what love was, and it took everything in Tommy's power to not splutter out, "I don't fucking know." But he didn't. He told his son to ask Polly.

For some time, Tommy thought it was finding someone to laugh with and cry with and talk to until dawn. But when he thought of that these days he grimaced. The truth was that he was tired. There were days when he crawled back to Arrow House with heavy eyes, teeth aching and bone marrow crying out for rest. The last thing he wanted was more. More talking, more needing him, more desiring his existence. He wanted stillness and he found it in the solarium. He'd fall back on the settee, fully clothed, and doze off.

He knew what an iota of peace was, but nothing of love anymore.

It was the fall when Tommy's routine encountered a strange addition. He'd collapse in the solarium then awake to his head resting on a pillow, his shoes off and legs up, and his coat on him like a blanket. In front of him was a single tray of tea. He'd wake up, take a sip, grimace at the over-steeped, lukewarm drink, and gather himself.

In early October, Tommy woke to the sound of tea pooling in a porcelain cup. His eyes creaked open to see a man in wireframe glasses moving smoothly through the motions as if he'd been doing this exact thing for weeks. His brown eyes met Tommy's, and he gave a soft smile before walking across the room and sitting in a nook by the window without a word. It only took a moment to see him sink into the space like he belonged there with a book in hand.

If Tommy hadn't hand-selected Daniel Peterson to be Charlie's live-in teacher, he would have had a dead man in his home. But instead, he had a raging curiosity.

"Thanks for letting me sleep," Tommy spoke as he reached for the cigarettes in his pocket.

"Well I'm always here first, so I really just go on my way," Daniel clarified. Tommy tried to think if he ever recalled another person in the space, but he always had one mission in mind.

"The tea is nice."

"Not when you get to it, it isn't."

"But you pour it anyway?" Tommy asked. There was a pause and the sound of the striking of a match was all there was.

"I do... pour it anyway. You're welcome."

Come November, Tommy understood the appeal of sitting in silence. He came to the solarium and checked for Daniel who was almost always reading. For a few hours, they existed in each other's presence with few words, just the pouring of tea. Tommy slept, but eventually, he began just sitting with his eyes closed and head tilted to the ceiling- the company being refreshing when the nap wasn't enough.

The day Daniel quietly came over and lit Tommy's cigarette when the man lost his own matches, was the day Tommy looked at him. He'd reread the studious teacher's file for reference, and then again recently like a good book. Daniel was a few months older than Tommy, but their lives were much different. He'd fought in the war but he was stable and bookish.

The day he was hired, it was how he spoke simply and straightforwardly, saying exactly what he could and could not do that made Francis and Tommy choose him. Now Tommy realized the teacher had a real steady charm about him. He was solid and responsible, or at least he didn't seem to need anything from him. And he had a nice smile, Tommy thought.

It was nearing December and the end of the school season, so Tommy checking in on more of Charlie's studies. He'd done it here and there before, but it was becoming a habit.

Daniel watched Charlie run off to play before approaching Tommy, cross-armed and leaning against the door.

"Light schedule today?" Daniel teased with a tilted head.

"I was just curious as always and when I'm working from home, why not stop by?" Tommy shrugged. "Since I'm here, do you want to have dinner with Charlie and I?"

"Are you sure? My silence is golden."

"Hardy har har, though I appreciate that too."

Tommy watches the man clean up and begins etching every bit of him in his mind. Shapely jaw, nimble fingers, a warm kindness and elegance. The lithe of his voice, his quietness and care. Tommy collected things one by one until his mind was filled with Daniel Peterson.

Dinners and silent solarium encounters were comfortable, pleasant even. Tommy was starting to think he didn't deserve it. This was peace, he thought, he just happened to be getting greedy about having so much more of it.

--

"What is love?" Charlie asked, this time to Daniel while he was supposed to be answering questions. Tommy stood at the door, watching, surprised Charlie was still on this. Daniel hummed and clasped his hands.

"Love is a shapeshifter and a mirror and disgustingly honest. You'll understand that when you're older. But for now, it's doing what you can to make sure someone is delighted, healthy, and well from the tiniest detail to the biggest things. But the most important thing is listening and respect. Unwanted consideration is not considerate. Good?" Daniel grinned at Charlie whose head was tilted.

"Ummm, alright, good." Charlie's nose scrunched when his teacher ruffled his hair, but he got back to work.

He could read a thousand books about love and each one would tell him something different, Tommy knew that much. And yet that brief explanation from Daniel stayed in his mind and seeped out of him. He started pouring tea and offering access to the Arrow House library. They shared lunches, breakfasts, and five-minute moments in each other's presence when Tommy wound up walking to Daniel's office in the middle of the day without even meaning to.

"Are you on drugs again?" Esme asked as she sat reports on Tommy's desk.

"Fuck off."

"Seriously, Thomas. They aren't good for you, and we can all tell," she scolded him. Tommy realized she was serious and he sighed.

"I'm not. So I guess you're all wrong."

"If it's not opium then you must be in love because you walk like a man hungry for something that's not at Watery Lane." Esme gave him a pointed look, and Tommy couldn't help but compare her to Polly as she left the office. She did seem to catch on quicker than he did. Tommy leaned back in his chair.

The harsh winter made Tommy decide it wasn't love, it was gratitude. For all the nights Daniel helped Charlie feel less like he was babysat and more like he was living. And when Daniel took care of the Shelbys in the house when they got sick at the same time.

It was more like, being impressed with him. He knew everything, it seemed. Not a genius per se, but an encyclopedia of a man no less. Even when it came to business, Daniel could point Tommy in the right direction.

Or even a natural closeness was a better description. Daniel wrapped his arms around Tommy on the anniversary of Grace's death and days that got rough. His touch became a welcome comfort that Tommy sought out again and again. It wasn't love, it was just greed. It was just wanting more of the kind of peace that only he could provide.

--

"Are you two in love?" Charlie asked. Daniel and Tommy turned their heartfelt eyes from each other to Charlie.

"What makes you ask that?" Daniel asked calmly, beating Tommy to speaking first.

"Dad said love was hard to explain and he told me to ask Polly. Polly said it was when you just want to stay by someone's side. And I asked Mr. Peterson and he said it was wanting to do what you can to make sure someone is delighted, healthy, and well from the tiniest detail to the biggest things," Charlie recited their answers precisely between bites of oatmeal. "Isn't that what you two do? You're always together when you're home, and even pour each other's tea. And you always look delighted when we all play together. You're in love, aren't you?"

Daniel tapped the table and leaned back in thought. His eyes turned to Tommy, deferring to him for once.

"Must be," Tommy said with a nod, then went back to his breakfast. Daniel's eyebrows raised at the confession, but both Shelbys had already moved on. When Charlie left for his piano lesson, Daniel turned to Tommy.

"What was that?"

"Charlie made excellent points. And it's been true for a while hasn't it?" Tommy flipped through his paper absentmindedly but with trembling hands.

"Well what are you going to do about it?"

"What do you mean? I'll just keep loving you."

"How romantic," Daniel mumbled then reached for toast. Tommy's hand reached out and caught his.

"You didn't say your piece yet."

"I think I've loved you since I poured tea for you just in case you woke up in time to drink it hot. I just didn't think I'd be found out by a six-year-old."

"My sister-in-law found me out, so we're even."

Tommy wasn't convinced he knew what love was anymore, or if he ever did. But he did know the morning breeze quieted them, and the sunlight drenched the acres of Arrow House in a way that made his breath catch a bit.

Tommy knew peace, and he knew what he wanted more of, which was having more moments hand in hand with Daniel. And at the end of the day, he was beginning to think that was enough.

>> Tommy Shelby x Reader Masterlist <<

>> Tommy Shelby x OC Masterlist <<

>> Mx’s Peaky Blinders Masterlist <<

[ebookporn]

Overlooked No More: Ángela Ruiz Robles, Inventor of an Early E-Reader

Long before Kindles and iPads became popular, Ruiz Robles, a teacher, created her Mechanical Encyclopedia to help lighten her students’ textbook load.

by Cindy Shmerler

More than 60 years before Kindles, Nooks, iPads and other electronic devices revolutionized reading, there was a gadget invented in a village in Spain that had the potential to do the same.

The Enciclopedia Mecanica, or Mechanical Encyclopedia, as it was known, was not the brainchild of a multinational corporation like Apple or Amazon; it was invented in 1948 by Ángela Ruiz Robles, a widowed teacher who wanted to make learning easier for her students and her three daughters.

Her invention, a pale green box about the size of a textbook with an intricate interior, allowed a user to read words in any language and on any topic. It was intended to lighten a student’s book load. Today it is seen by many as an analog ancestor of the e-reader.

“What she invented carried on into the future,” her grandson Daniel Gonzalez de la Rivera said by phone from his home in Madrid.

He added, “Each time I see one I am reminded of my grandmother.”

READ MORE

[stardustbarbarians]

Even Sinners Drink the Wine

A Too Pretty For War Prologue

A Samuel Kiszka / Daniel Wagner fic

Summary: Years before he became the king of Athens, Prince Samuel risked his life in order to save his best friend.

Tags: Prince!Sam, Court Member!Daniel, life or death satiations, Savior Sammy, Sam-centric

Trigger Warnigns: mentions of torture / death penalty

Words: 4.2 k

A/N: Last part! Sorry this took a second to upload! But thank you to everyone who's read and enjoyed this! This truly was just a little passion project of mine and I'm glad that other people enjoyed it, too. But, enough from me. Let's get back to Athens. As always, enjoy! <3

+++

Knowing his way back better than the trip to the cave, Samuel was able to make it to the castle twice as fast. As much as he wanted to have Althea race home as fast as possible, it was nearly impossible with his injury and he would never push her that hard. That being said, the sun was setting by the time he returned, the sky burning in vibrant oranges and pinks. 

Just when he saw the palace peaking through the trees, Samuel dismounted - with difficulty and biting back his noises of agony - and led Althea quietly to the stables. This was a part of Jake’s plan as well. A servant was waiting for Sam in the stables, ready to help him sneak back into the castle. 

“Rest now, girl,” Sam soothed, petting her side before handing her reins to a stableboy. 

“This way, your majesty. Quickly,” the serving girl - one of the ones tasked with maintaining Jacob’s chambers while he was away - waved towards a passage that Samuel had never seen before. 

“What is this place?” he inquired after stepping inside.

“These are the servant’s passages. It is how we travel so quickly between rooms,” she answered, attempting to keep a pace that was quick but still accommodated Sam’s lack of mobility. 

He was beyond confused, believing he knew every nook and cranny of the palace. He and Daniel used to explore the place when they were children while the twins were off getting lessons. They had found more than a few secrets that Sam knew his parents would not want him knowing. How had these passages managed to slip his and Daniel’s notice? 

“This door will lead you to the hallway next to the healing ward,” the woman told Sam, pushing open the heavy false wall all by herself and making it seem easy. 

“Thank you for what you have done for us,” Samuel spoke genuinely, offering her a sweet smile that most likely looked off-putting considering his haggard appearance. 

Returning the smile, she stepped out of the way of the prince after checking for any signs of guards or other things that would hinder Sam. 

Sam slipped out into the corridor as best he could, trying hard not to make any noise as he stumbled a few steps. With a grunt, Sam heard the servant closing the passageway behind him as she slipped away. It felt strange having to sneak around in his own home, but he had to. He was too close to the end to lose now. And while he could technically do this part without the sneaking, it was rather hard to explain away his grime and wound if he had supposedly spent all day in the castle. 

Finally, Sam entered the healing ward. As he pushed open the heavy doors, the youngest royal saw Giatrós patting Daniel’s brow with a damp cloth and, most surprisingly, his sister. Both of them raised their heads at the disturbance, their eyes widening at the sight of the prince. 

“Oh, gods,” Giatrós exclaimed before getting up from his stool, the wooden furniture clattering to the ground in his haste. If Sam wasn’t so thoroughly focused, that would have made him jump. 

Removing the bag from his shoulder, he lifted it triumphantly in the air. “I succeeded.” 

“I-” the physician started, his mouth gaping as the royal’s words sunk in, “hand it over, if you would.” 

Samuel did so, forcing his eyes to stay on the man in front of him rather than on the sickly man in the bed. Just out of the corner of his eye, Sam could see him writhing and fussing under his sheets. It made his mouth dry out in worry. 

“Samuel, what happened to you??” Princess Veronica asked, disbelief, worry, and a hint of disgust mixing on her face. 

“Sammy.” 

Every head in the room turned towards Daniel. It was so quiet that it was impressive they had even heard it. Truly, it was just a puff of breath. But, right as rain, he said Samuel’s name. Finally seeing him for the first time in hours, Sam felt his knees nearly buckle beneath him. He had turned a ghostly pale, sweat coating every inch of his skin. He had since been changed out of his armor, a thin silk clinging to his sweat slick body. His eyes, though shut, were bruised and sunken in. 

“He has been doing that since your departure, your majesty,” Giatrós informed over his shoulder, rifling through Sam’s bag, “almost as if he knew you were in danger and had left.” 

“Which causes us to circle back to my initial question,” Veronica interjected, grabbing her brother by the shoulder and turning him to face her, “what in the name of the gods happened to you?” 

“I had to save Daniel’s life. That is what happened to me,” Sam curtly answered, frankly not all that into talking about his experience quite yet. 

“Oh, that will not do, Samuel.” She had employed a tone that he had heard their mother use when she caught them in a lie. Sam winced as he realized how blatantly rude he had been to his older sister. 

With a sigh, Samuel walked over to the abandoned stool next to his best friend, trying his best to hide his limp. “I shall go into more details later. As of now, I fear I am too drained to recount everything.” 

“You are hurt,” she pointed out, her voice catching in her throat as she said the words. Her face had gone pale, a hand flying to her mouth as her eyes widened at the sight.

“My gods, you actually did it,” Giatrós exclaimed, hoisting the wretched plant into the light to examine it closer. 

“Try not to act so surprised,” Sam grumbled over his shoulder, lacing his fingers between Daniel’s and taking over dabbing his brow with the abandoned cloth. 

“Giatrós! He is injured!” the princess repeated, not content to be ignored. 

Finally, the physician glanced over towards the prince. He had his leg stretched out so his knee was unbent, alleviating some of the pressure from where it was swelling and turning red on his thigh. 

“What caused that?” the healer inquired, his hands lowering the Asclepius’s Lament onto the work bench. 

“I am far from the top priority right now! I thank you for your concerns, both of you, but might I remind you that Daniel is fighting off death!” 

He had not meant to shout like that, but he felt it was necessary. Both Veronica and Giatrós snapped back into themselves, having realized the gravity of the situation. With a softly muttered apology, the princess offered to help the physician. 

Sam went back to wiping the sweat from his friend’s face, clinging to his hand as if it were the only thing keeping Daniel’s shade bound to his body. HIs entire body continued to be wracked with these tiny convulsions, never able to stay perfectly still. The man kept muttering various iterations of Sam’s name under his breath, sometimes even vocalizing them in groans of what Samuel could only assume were pain. Each passage of his name through Daniel’s lips caused Samuel’s heart to painfully contract. 

“Sammy, we need you to move,” Veronica gently ordered, a hand placed on his shoulder. 

Looking over at them, he saw that they were hovering just behind him, Giatrós holding a bowl of what Sam could only hope was the cure. Moving away as swiftly as possible and retracting his hand, Samuel let them have the space to work. 

He paced off to the side, watching the two of them like an eagle circling its prey. 

“You utilized only the roots, correct?” he asked worriedly, remembering that very vital piece of information from the scroll. 

“Indeed I did,” the healer patiently answered, pouring a thick, yellowish paste into Daniel’s mouth. “Your highness, please place your fingers on his neck and check his pulse.” 

That statement only caused the prince’s worry to spike. He had taken to plowing his fingers through his hair, pulling more than a few webs out of the strands and causing chills to crawl across his skin. 

“His heart is beating stronger,” Veronica informed, a hopeful smile on her lips. 

“Excellent. Now, all we need to do is wait for Daniel to awaken,” Giatrós added, pressing a hand onto Daniel’s brow to check his temperature. 

There was no change. 

Minutes passed and nothing transpired. Samuel had begun to think he failed, that he had taken the wrong plant back and had sealed his best friend’s fate. 

After what seemed like an eternity, the bed-ridden man gasped quietly before his eyes fluttered open. 

“DANIEL!” Samuel cried, all but flying over to the man in question. 

The princess and the physician had barely enough time to retreat before the young royal was wrapping his arms around his best friend’s neck and burying his face into his chest. Daniel, although confused from Sam’s action, had immediately returned the gesture. Sam’s chest swelled with so many positive emotions they began to overflow. He felt tears streaming down his cheeks as his entire body shook with the force of his sobs. 

He was alive. He had done it. Daniel was healed and he would survive. Samuel could not help but inhale his scent, reassuring himself that this was no hallucination and that his best friend was, indeed, wrapped in his arms with his heart strongly beating within his chest. Despite the sweat and grime that had accumulated onto him, Sam considered it to be the sweetest smell to ever pass his lungs. 

“Are you alright?” Daniel whispered, his mouth hovering closely to Sam’s ear. His breath was warm as it tickled his ear, another indicator that this was real and that he would not wake in a slimy puddle in that reprehensible cavern. 

“I-I was… I was worried sick about you. Giatrós said you had hardly any chance of survival and I just-” more sobs overtook Sam’s body as relief crashed into him. 

Daniel’s arms wrapped tighter around Samuel’s body, practically smothering the prince. But he had far from any qualms over it. Sam was pressed so hard into Danny’s chest that he could feel that strong and steady heartbeat in his own rib cage. He wished - prayed, you could say - that it would be possible for him to slip between Danny’s ribs in order to keep that thrumming close to him at all times, to have it as a keepsake for when life became unbearable. 

“I am alright now, Sammy. There is no need to worry any longer,” the ward reassured, his voice a gentle rumble in Sam’s ear. The prince felt it in his own chest, causing his heart to lurch forward as if it were attempting to get physically closer to Daniel. Never one to ignore his heart’s desires, Sam nestled even closer to Daniel, somehow breaching the limit of what he thought was possible with that action; he was already clung so tightly to Daniel, yet he managed to get even nearer. 

“Promise me you will never fall ill like that ever again. I cannot lose you,” Samuel whispered, his words catching in his throat from how much pure emotion was intertwined with them. His tears were still falling down his face, warm against his skin as they flowed endlessly like a stream. 

“I promise,” Danny swore, his tone soft as he nuzzled his face deeper into Sam’s neck. “I promise.” His hand had reached up to tangle into Sam’s hair, smoothing it in a slow motion as his fingers ran through the locks. 

It had fallen silent in the room after that, save for Sam’s subtle cries. As far as either Sam or Danny was concerned, they were the only two shades left in the whole of the world. Zeus himself could descend from Olympus and strike them both down and they would not move. Nothing could get them to remove themselves from the other… save for one thing. 

Sam was vaguely aware of the doors to the infirmary opening, numerous footsteps following. 

“SAMUEL FRANCIS!”

The youngest royal’s head shot straight up, his arms still entangled with his best friend and still held in a rather intimate embrace. Standing at the entrance of the healing wing, surrounded by guards and his older brother, was Samuel’s father. 

Sam’s stomach had not dropped so quickly in his entire life. He had wanted to run, to hide, to do something other than stare dumbly at the king while in an incriminating position with Daniel in his arms. A healed Daniel, while he was obviously covered in grime from venturing outside the palace grounds. 

“Arrest him,” the king growled, pointing at his youngest. 

“Father, please!” Veronica cried. 

Samuel gulped nervously, eyes going as wide as the moon. He was certain he looked pale as a shade as all the blood drained from his face. 

The only thing that snapped him from his panic was the tightening of Daniel’s grip as he attempted to pull Sam closer to him in the desperate hope that it would save him from the guards attempting to pry the prince from his grasp. It was no use, Daniel was still weak from the poison and there were too many soldiers. 

“Sammy, no!” the ward cried, arms reaching out towards him from his position in the bed, a distraught look written all over his face. Samuel also attempted to reach for him, but it was useless. The guards had wrestled and pinned his arms to his sides. 

“Your highness, what was that for??” Daniel demanded, his voice rough and gravelly as he yelled. 

“I am overjoyed that you are well, Daniel, but Prince Samuel needs to learn his lesson and not defy me,” Sam overheard the king say as he was being dragged away, kicking and screaming like a wild animal caught in a trap. 

“Unhand me!!” Samuel demanded, knowing it was for naught. These soldiers were the king’s personal guards. To them, there was no higher authority than his father. 

Off to the side, jogging alongside the burly men to keep pace, was the crowned prince. 

“Sam, I apologize. This is my fault, I attempted to keep Father from the infirmary, but he-” 

“It is not your fault, Jake. It is far from it. I only blame that VENOMOUS CUR WHO FANCIES HIMSELF AS KING!!” he bellowed, knowing that his voice carried down the sandstone halls and into the open doors of the infirmary where his father still stood. He was still struggling against the bruising grip the soldiers had on him. 

Jacob winced at Sam’s words, knowing he was only causing more trouble for himself. But the young prince did not care in his blinding rage. 

“I shall talk to Mother. Perhaps she will be able to sway the king,” Jake offered, slowing down when they came to the split in the hallways that led down to the dungeons and the other towards their mother’s chambers. 

“I doubt he will change his mind, but I thank you all the same!” Sam called as he was dragged further and further away, down towards the bowels of the palace where the dungeons were. 

+++

“You cannot house me here forever,” Samuel spat, his arms crossed over his chest as he paced in his cell like a caged animal. 

“I never intended to, but with your attitude worsening, it becomes more and more a tempting offer,” the king shot back, standing before his son in his full regalia, cape and all. 

“It has been a week, Father! A whole forsaken week I have been locked in this slum! So, forgive me if I seem a little irate, but the rats here are hardly good company!!” 

The king closed his eyes, seemingly attempting to keep his temper in check. Sam wondered what the special occasion was considering he never stopped his rage before. 

“Are you willing to apologize, Samuel?” His words were slow, deliberately measured to keep his anger from entering them. 

At that, Sam lunged at the bars, wrapping his hands around them as he came face to face with his father. He bared his teeth in pure rage, feeling just like the lions his father locked into cages for his entertainment. 

“I will never apologize for saving Daniel’s life,” he hissed, venom dripping from every word he spat. 

“Then you leave me with no choice,” the king growled, leaning in towards his son. He would not be sized up by an eighteen year old, let alone his own blood. 

Turning on his heel, the king made for the door. Samuel had to resist the urge to hiss at him as his brilliant red cape billowed out from behind him. 

“I shall see you again in a month when your sentence ends. You should mark yourself thankful, most men who are charged with treason would be hammered to a cross by now,” his father called over his shoulder. 

“Perhaps you should! I am certain it would save you and the kingdom much grief!” Sam yelled after his father, unwilling to be intimated by the man and his threats. 

“Do not tempt me!!” 

Sam, unable to help himself, performed an obscene gesture towards his father when he heard the door slam. With an agitated huff, he plopped himself down onto the uncomfortable cot he had been sleeping on. The action caused the pain in his leg to flare up, the prince smoothing it with his hand. It had healed significantly over the past week - Giatrós had managed to convince the king to allow him to treat his son’s wound, using leeches on the wretched thing - but it was still tender. 

It was not much longer that Sam heard footsteps descending the stairs towards his cell. Rolling his eyes, he assumed it was the king once more. He kept his eyes trained on the floor, unwilling to give him the satisfaction. 

“Finally cave into temptation and come to crucify me, Father?” 

When there was no answer and the footsteps ceased right at his cell door, Samuel lifted his head up and looked over at the visitor. A bright and involuntary smile crept its way across his face. 

“Daniel,” he breathed, the smile evident in his words. He looked so much healthier, his skin nearly glowing. Sam immediately sprang to his feet, all but racing over to the bars to be closer to his best friend. “What a pleasant surprise.” 

“I imagine so if you believed me to be the king,” Daniel said, a smile of his own featured prominently on his lips. Though it was considerably less bright, weighed down by concern. 

“How are you feeling?” Sam asked, resisting the urge to reach out and play with a curl that fell onto Daniel’s cheek. 

“I am doing alright, but I should be the one asking you that,” Danny refuted, that concern coming to the forefront. 

“I was not the one poisoned,” Sam argued lightly, his smile faltering. 

“According to Giatrós, you were poisoned when you got that bite.” The ward pointed at the prince’s wounded leg. 

“Oh, please, it was nothing. Just hallucinated a few things and felt a little pain. Nothing I cannot handle,” Samuel joked, flashing his best friend his most charming smile. He had made his way back onto his cot, unable to look Daniel in the eyes for long. 

The smile did not work. 

“You are an idiot and a fool for having risked your life like you did. I do not know whether to congratulate you for your sheer dumb luck or reprimand you for your stupidity!” 

“Like I told the king, I will not apologize for saving your life!” Sam had shot up from his seat once more, coming face to face with the ward as his anger spiked. 

“What if you had gotten killed?? Would that have been worth it?!” 

“I WAS NOT ABOUT TO SIT THERE AND ALLOW YOU TO DIE!” 

A silence befell the two, both unimaginably angry for the wrong reasons. They searched one another’s eyes, rage burning within them. 

Finally, Daniel let out a long sigh. 

“I suppose I do owe you my life,” he muttered quietly, his eyes darting off to the side as he rested his head on the bars. 

“Some gratitude would be appreciated,” Sam grumbled, resting the back of his head against the stone of the cell wall he leaned on. 

Reaching through the bars, Daniel grabbed his best friend by the hand. Sam had not been expecting the contact, surprise causing him to look down. He looked from their intertwined hands to Daniel’s face, seeing a watery smile on it. 

“Thank you,” he breathed, appreciation and genuine gratitude flowing with the words. 

Sam returned the gratitude with a squeeze of his hand. But Danny did not drop his. They stayed like that for an awkward moment, not knowing how to handle the emotions either of them were experiencing. 

“Oh, your mother wished for me to give you this,” Daniel quickly spoke, removing his hand from his best friend’s and removing a cord that hung from his neck. Dangling off of the dark leather cord was a glass pendant that Sam could not make out what it was.

Gently, he took the necklace from Daniel and studied it. It was forged from a clear glass, the pendant no bigger than the nail of his thumb. As he examined it closer, turning it over between his fingers, it had finally clicked. 

“She wanted me to tell you it is a token of how proud she is of you. She would give it to you in person, but she suffers a terrible headache right now,” Daniel informed, a small smile pulling at his lips. 

“It's… a swan…” 

Tears welled in his eyes as he slipped the necklace on, very careful not to damage it in any way. 

“I never knew why she referred to you as that,” Daniel admitted, leaning against the bars to better look at his best friend wearing the necklace. 

“Oh, it is quite amusing, really. Veronica and the twins used to tease me for being an odd looking baby… this was before you began living here. And I used to cry and cry to my mother, telling her how mean my siblings were being to me. And then she would stroke my hair and tell me that I would one day flourish into a beautiful young man; just how swans grow beautiful as they age.” 

“She was right, you know,” Daniel shyly admitted, looking at Samuel through his eyelashes as color flushed his cheeks. 

Sam suddenly felt color of his own flood his face. He could not look at Daniel for long, clearing his throat and darting his eyes away. The air once more became awkward between them, nervous laughs emitting from both parties. 

“So, how long are you stuck in there?” Daniel asked, finally breaking the tension between them. 

“A month,” Samuel grumbled, that sour mood filling his veins once again. 

“And there is no way to get you out sooner?” 

The young royal gave Daniel a long suffering look. He was, very unfortunately, at the mercy of the king. And both father and son were stubborn as mules. It would take interference from the gods in order to get one of them to budge on any topic they were on opposing sides of. 

“Right,” Danny sighed, brushing his curls behind his ear. 

“W-Would… would you mind keeping me company down here?” Sam stuttered, unable to look at Daniel as he spoke. 

Able to take on venomous spiders and death-defying heights, but unable to look your best friend in the eye 

With that thought creeping into his mind, Sam forced himself to look at Daniel. Immediately he felt a jolt run through his body. There was a look on the ward’s face that Sam could not place. 

“Uh, only if you wish to, that is. I would not want you down in this decrepit place against your will. And, even then, you do not have to show up every day-” 

“Samuel,” Daniel gently interrupted, placing his hand back into his best friend’s. It worked like a charm. The prince snapped his mouth shut and watched Daniel carefully. 

He offered Sam a smile, a warm one that reached his eyes and caused them to sparkle despite the horrible lighting of the dungeon. It caused butterflies to set loose within Sam’s stomach, their wings beating rapidly inside him. 

“I would love spending time with you. And it would not be a chore to do so,” Daniel reassured, talking in very blatant terms so that his meaning would not be misconstrued. 

Samuel finally wore a smile of his own. Suddenly, a month’s time in his dingy cell did not look so bleak. 

Daniel kept his promise, visiting Samuel every day for a month’s time. They never ran out of topics to discuss, oftentimes just expressing their thoughts aloud. And upon his release, this behavior did not cease. Neither person tired of the other’s company, always choosing them over solitude. And for years, that was the case; prince and scholar attached at the hip. 

Until their peace was interrupted after Samuel turned twenty-three. 

But, that story has already been told. For now, we leave the two in peace, unintentionally planning for a future that featured the other prominently. 

+++

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[deadhumourist]

Pink Velvet

Pairing: F!Reader and Jack “Whiskey” Daniels 

Rating: M, just to be safe - it contains 1 mention of non-explicit, previous sexy times. 

Words: 1300+

Warnings Angst and hurt, character doesn’t feature in story apart from flashbacks. Kids. No happy ending here, folks.

A/N: This is a little hurt/angst/softness piece. Depending on how this goes down/if there’s interest, there might be a part 2 where things end on a happier note. Let me know if we leave it like this or not ;) A huge thank you to @just-here-for-the-moment for beta-ing this and assuring me its not the worst thing she’s ever read. 

Masterlist | Taglist

------

Dusk is settling over the quaint little garden, and one by one, the night dwellers emerge from the nooks and crannies they slept in all day. Lightning bugs glow to life, organic little paper lanterns drifting around. Their lights gently swirl up in the air, the uneven pattern carving up the slowly darkening air. 

The gentle nightbreak brings a stillness both outside your home and inside you. Quiet in the knowledge that another day has come to a stop and you have nothing more to do with the outside world that has taken so much from you. 

"Mama?"

Your not-really-a-toddler-anymore Josie is peering at you from the doorway, her face half hidden behind the door jamb. You hear the soft shuffling of her pony-shaped slippers against the reclaimed wooden floor. It's her tell, and you answer the question before she has to ask.

"Let's go pick out a story for bedtime, darling."

You unfold yourself from the large, comfy chair by the window. It has plush pink velvet pillows which in turn you have buried your laughter, your heart and increasingly lately, your sorrow in. The funny thing about velvet is that it keeps stains and secrets all the same. 

You walk to your daughter’s bedroom, making a beeline for your and her favourite feature in the cosy room - the bookcase. You’ve read to her since she was a baby, even if she didn’t understand any of the words yet. You wanted to establish a routine, a safety net that could catch her on hard days that may come. 

You kneel in front of it, pretending to survey the colourful collection for a book to read. But you know this act of the play by heart. You will pretend to select a book, any book, and Josie will look at you with her big, brown eyes, apprehension tugging at the corners. She will sidle up to the corner of the shelf and slide out the same book that you’ve read about 100 times now, and gingerly offer it to you. “This one?” she’ll hesitantly ask as if it’s the first time. 

She is the apple of your eye so you smile warmly while taking it out of her hands. 

“Of course, sweetheart.” 

She bounds excitedly to her bed and jumps under the soft layers. 

You settle down next to her, tucking your legs underneath you, cradling your daughter in your one arm while holding the book in the other. Josie loves helping to turn the pages when you read. 

“Once upon a time, there was a handsome cowboy who lived in a small town. He was the town sheriff, keeping all the bad people out and making sure the town’s people were safe. Every day, the cowboy would ride through the town on his horse, making sure there were no bad men disturbing the peace.”

Your daughter looked up at you, her owlish eyes finding yours. She doesn’t normally interrupt storytime but you wait for her to continue. 

“Mama…” she hesitates for a long beat. 

“Mama, is Daddy a cowboy?” 

The simple question tears through your heart like a shotgun at close range. You had been careful. She was so small when she last saw him, and there aren’t any mementos in the house apart from a photo that you keep close to you. It feels like it was taken a lifetime ago. 

“What makes you ask that, sweetheart?’

“I dreamt about him and we played horsey and he let me ride on his back. And he said he missed me.”

Your heart pinches painfully. She will have almost no memory of him, and you had buried yours so deep. You were sure “Daddy” was a pastiche of the storybook cowboy and the photo in your locket that your curious child would have found. 

No matter what you choose to do next, every option seems cruel in its own way. Deny everything and leave her to wonder, anchorless in a sea of ephemeral memories, or give in and open old wounds to share the reality that he was gone without a trace.

You’re quiet for a long beat before you continue, your voice soft. 

“Yes darling, he is a cowboy. A very noble one that also keeps bad men away.” 

Josie’s face lights up like a ray of sunshine as she smiles, her little rosebud mouth revealing one missing tooth to the side.  

She glances at the page you’re holding and then back to you. 

“And is he also handsome like in the story?”

You glance at your daughter’s glossy dark chocolate hair and golden skin. She is your child too but Jack’s genes had won out by a country mile. You remember his eyes, so much like hers, brimming with tears when he first held her. He was overcome that something so perfect could also carry a part of him and be his. 

“He is. You look so much like him, too.” 

That seems to satisfy her curiosity, at least for the time being. Contentedly, she snuggles against you and lifts her little pointer finger to the open page, indicating that you need to read again. 

You barely manage to hold in a relieved sigh. 

“The town was quiet and safe, because the handsome cowboy was good at his job. Then, one day, bad men rode into town on their horses. One of the bad men went to see the cowboy at the sheriff’s office.The men told the cowboy that he needed to give them all the money in the bank, otherwise they would kidnap the mayor’s daughter. The mayor’s daughter was a very beautiful young woman, and the cowboy liked her very much.” 

“The cowboy told them to leave town, but the next day, the bad men kidnapped the beautiful young woman! Oh, the mayor was so angry! The cowboy was angry too, and vowed to rescue the woman.”

Josie sticks her thumb in her mouth, enthralled by the story she had heard so many times before. 

“The handsome cowboy chased the bad men out of town and rescued the beautiful young woman, and she was very grateful!”

The thumb leaves her mouth with a pop.

“Mama, did Daddy rescue you too?”

You think back to how you met Jack. That’s not exactly how it went down, and you recall jokingly arguing with him over drinks about who rescued who exactly. That was quite the mission. Even though you lost the mark, you didn’t come home empty handed. Not exactly. 

“No sweetheart, that’s just in the story. But if I was in trouble, he would have.” 

She nods sagely, like she knows this to be fact. 

You continue the story. 

“Once the woman was safe, the cowboy told her that he liked her. And she said she liked him too. The cowboy kissed her and they lived happily ever after.” 

Josie’s insistent questioning is unraveling old memories from their tightly sealed boxes in the recesses of your mind, and at the mention of a kiss, Jack drifts into your mind’s eye yet again. 

He’s covering your body with his own, your legs entwined with each other’s. His large hand cupping your jaw and pressing adoring kisses into your heated skin. He captures your lips again hungrily, making sure the only thing you can focus on is him. 

You close the book carefully, noticing Josie slumped over in the crook of your arm, thumb still in her mouth. You slide out as slowly as you can, careful not to wake her. After pulling the covers up around her and switching on the nightlight, you tip-toe out of her room.

Retaking your seat at the window, you take a deep breath to steady yourself. You reach inside your sweater to retrieve your keepsake. Clipping the locket open, you stare at the small photo inside for a long while. 

Jack - dark hair slicked back and moustache neatly groomed and framing an exuberant smile. The one you have to see a ghost of every day, when you have breakfast with your daughter, or laugh with her, or read her to sleep. 

And then the beautiful young woman wept for her cowboy, who never made it home. 

------

Comments and reblogs are appreciated so much <3

[daniellesreadingnook]

Cover reveal!!

[tuesday-teyz]

What are the surnames or full names of the br characters? And are there any animals or sutff in general that represents the places in br?

(Side note, I'm really liking how the fic is turning out. I usually cant read super long fics because i cant concentrate but yours has been an exception to my brain :D)

Just answered about their full names in other ask, I think it would be funny if crimeboys full names are Theseus Daniel Craft and Wilbur Lovejoy Soot.

Other full names I can think of:

Dream Taken

Drista Taken

Foolish Taken

Samuel Nook

Ant Frost

Bad Halo

Tubbo Sparklez

There are animals that usually represent each kingdom, birds for Empire, dragons for Esempi, koi fish for Drywaters, wolf cheetah and fox for Badlands, and a white rabbit for Kinoko

Oh I'm honored shdkdj! My brain also has very short attention span so it's a really big compliment that I was able to hold yours

[bandedbulbussnarfblat]

Disremember

First chapter of my new Armand/Daniel fic. It's going to span both the devil's minion era and the 2022 era. Read it here on ao3 or below

Daniel is nestled in the nook of Armand’s arm, head on his shoulder.  They’re laid out on an outdoor lounge on the balcony, watching the fireworks erupt in the sky. It's fourth of July.   Armand’s eyes are on the fireworks, and he looks like the picture of serenity, completely at ease.  It’s in part due to Daniel’s blood; he’s a little drunk and a little high.  Nothing stronger than pot tonight, but it makes him feel relaxed and loose.  Figures it must work the same on Armand.  

He leans up and nuzzles into Armand’s neck, kisses up his jaw.  Armand captures his face in his hand and tilts him into a lazy kiss.  Daniel could lie here in this moment forever.  

Except he can’t.  He doesn’t have forever.  

He kisses Armand again and slings a leg over his waist.  He settles down into Armand’s lap as Armand’s hands find his waist and his thumbs stroke around his waistband.  Daniel turns the kiss dirty, bites on Armand’s bottom lips then fucks his mouth with his tongue.  The hands on his waist slide back to squeeze his ass.  Daniel breaks away from the kiss to mouth over Armand’s neck.  “Armand?”

“What is it, Daniel?”

Daniel sucks on the skin of Armand’s neck.  If he gets him worked up enough, he’ll start to sweat the blood, and Daniel can lick it off.  That’ll be nice.

“Will you ever give me what I want?”  Now’s the best time to ask for it.  He’s never seen Armand more relaxed, more content.  

“I’ve given you everything you could ever ask for.”

Daniel frowns and sits back.  “Yeah, except the one thing I really want.”

Armand clutches him close and kisses his face.  His voice is a low whisper when he speaks, “Be alive, Daniel.”  He presses their foreheads together and shuts his eyes.  “Let me tell you from my heart that life is better than death.”

Daniel pulls away and stands up.  “I don’t want to be alive, Armand.  I want to be like you!  To live forever with you!  Then I’ll tell you which is better, life or death.”

Armand sighs.  “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”

Daniel points an accusatory finger at him.  “You don’t love me.  You can’t.  You’ll never die, but you’ll watch me die, night after night, you watch it.”

Armand rises to his feet, eyes flashing with anger.  “Not this again, Daniel.  You know I love you more than anything.”

“Then prove it!  Make me like you; let me be with you forever!”  Daniel demands.  

Armand sweeps closer to him.  “Don’t ask this of me, Daniel.”

“See?  You don’t love me.  Not like I love you.  You don’t wanna be with me forever,” Daniel says, nearly snarling with rage.  “Why?  Why aren’t I good enough for forever?”

He’s so angry he shoves Armand in the chest.  It doesn’t matter; nothing can hurt him.  Naturally, it has no effect but force Daniel to lose his balance and stumble back a few paces. 

“How dare you!” Armand shouts, stepping closer.  

“Don’t hit me,” Daniel taunts.  “You might kill me, you’re so much stronger.”

“I’d never-”

Daniel interrupts, “But you like it that way, don’t you?  That’s the real reason you won’t change me; you like me weak.  You like being able to control me.”

Daniel is fuming, he can’t stop now that he’s started.  He’s shooting to kill.  “It’s true, you know it’s true.  Because you’re sick, you’re a freak.  I tricked myself into thinking you could love me, but you can't, you're incapable of love.”

Tears spill from Armand’s eyes silently.  He must not be able to stop them, because he cries and cries, teeth grit and saying nothing while Daniel speaks. 

“I will not do it, I cannot do it,” Armand says, tears flowing freely.  He reaches forward and grabs Daniel’s hand. “Ask me to kill you, it’d be easier than that.  You don’t know what you ask for, don’t you see?  It’s always a damnable error!  Don’t you realize that any one of us would give it up for one human lifetime?”

Daniel snatches away from him and laughs, on the edge of hysterical.  “I don’t believe you.  Give up immortality for one measly life?”

“I’d give it up if I weren’t still a coward.  Five hundred years and still the coward, still terrified to marrow of my bones of death.”  Armand reaches for him again as he speaks, eyes spilling tears and cheeks stained with blood.

Daniel hates to see him suffer, but tonight it feels like victory.  “Yeah, right.  Fear has nothing to do with it.  You don’t want to give all this up, and more importantly, you want to know what happens next.”

“Daniel-” Armand’s hands close around Daniel’s wrists, drawing him close.

“And if you really fear death, then why make me face it?  Why not save me from it?”

“It wouldn’t be saving you Daniel, it’d be damning you.”

Daniel pulls away in disgust.  “I was damned the day I met you.”

Armand flinches–looks like he struck a nerve there–and Daniel storms inside their bedroom.  He goes to the closet and starts throwing clothes in his backpack.  There’s a wallet in one pocket that has two grand in cash Armand forgot to take out when he switched to a different wallet.  Daniel’s found money this way more than once.  

“I’m leaving.  For good this time.”

He’s said it so many times before, Armand no doubt doesn’t believe him.  Daniel doesn’t care.  He’s not ever coming back.  He isn’t wasting his life on someone who will never truly love him, never see him as an equal.  

Armand sweeps in after him.  Daniel has his backpack slung over his shoulder and is halfway to the door.  He hesitates, stopping to look at Armand.  It’s all the opening Armand needs.  He moves unnaturally fast across the space between them.  Then his hands are on Daniel’s face and his mouth is on Daniel’s and his tongue is in Daniel’s mouth.  It’s bleeding.

Daniel groans and kisses him back feverishly. Armand always pulls this kind of shit, uses his blood or his cock to try to seduce Daniel to do whatever he wants.  It’s annoying in that it’s condescending, and that it usually works.  

Finally, Daniel has to pull back for a breath.  Armand drops his hands and steps back.  “Until next time, Daniel.”

“Fuck you,” Daniel says, and slams the door behind him.  This time really will be the last time.  It’ll be for good.  He knows exactly what to do to ensure it.

Daniel needs to ask Louis a favor. 

[kmscb]

Daniel is a mystery writer who wants to get back together with his ex, Tad. Only Tad wants a favor, first, and it involves an upstate cabin, a freezing snowstorm, political bribery, threats, danger, murder, romance with the perfect man ... who may only exist in his head ... and arguments with his fictional detective, Ace, leading him to fear he's lost his mind and become just another character in one of his mysteries.

A light, fun, crazy-assed summer read, available in ebook through Smashwords as well as Apple Books, Kobo, Nook, and many other platforms, all for $0.99.

Available in paperback through Amazon, B&N, BAM! and order through your independent book shop, for $12.95.

[artofhelium]

Every crevasse every nook, Hides a place to read a book, Lost between the pages of a dim lit magazine, Escaping off to places, Where nobody knows our faces, Stories of a nature that real life has never seen Credit to Daniel Hope photography for the model

[desertfangs]

This is a ficlet I wrote for the De Romanus Coven Halloween Event. Might be a loose use of the prompt but this is where it led me. Happy (Early) Halloween!

Peripheral Ghosts

Daniel/Marius - PG13 - 1782 words

Daniel thinks he sees a familiar face at the club and worries he might be losing his mind... again.

Daniel was moving to the music, caught up in the beat and pulse of heartbeats around him, when he saw a shock of auburn hair and pale skin in his periphery. He froze. The sight knocked the wind out of him. He stood static on the dance floor, searching the club for the person the hair belonged to. Surely Armand wasn’t here. He hadn’t mentioned any plans to travel to Brazil. And why would he come only to tease Daniel in such a way? The hair stood up on the back of Daniel’s neck. That had always been their game, though, hadn’t it? How things began between them: Armand appearing in random places, only to vanish like fog when Daniel got close. Daniel kept looking, desperate to find him and prove he’d really been there. He pushed through the crowd and searched every dark corner, bathroom, and nook. There was no sign of him, nor did Daniel see anyone pale with red hair. Defeated, he conceded he might have imagined it. Or worse, hallucinated it. That sent ice trickling down his spine. No, not a hallucination. That wasn’t possible. He was sane again, damn it, he didn’t have those anymore.

[Read the Rest on AO3 because tumblr wouldn't let me post the whole thing here for some reason!]

[merrock]

CHARACTER INFORMATION

face claim: Dylan O’Brien

full name: Charles Henry Hartman

nickname(s): Charlie, Chuck

pronouns & gender: he/him, cis man

sexuality: straight

birth date: October 7, 1993

birth place: Merrock, Maine

time in town: his entire life

housing: Coastal Area

occupation: Head Chef at Mack’s Bar & Grill

family: Member of the Hartman Family +two Australian Shepherds (Murphy & Scout)

personality: Quiet comes to mind when you think of Charlie. And when you meet him, your first impression of Charlie will probably be “Wow. He’s quiet.” But when he feels comfortable around you, he will not hesitate to be completely sarcastic and make fun of you - always coming from a loving place, of course. He’ll give you a hard time and then a big hug, if you like hugs. He respects that not everyone likes hugging. Charlie is the one you can call at three in the morning to bail you out of jail or come pick you up if your car broke down. A friend in Charlie is a friend for life and there’s little he wouldn’t do for his friends. Family dinners are just as sacred to him as hikes with his two pups (read: very sacred). He believes every menu should have an all-day breakfast section and no song can actually be “bad” if somewhere, someone can dance to it. No day can officially be started without walking up to the beach, even if it’s just to say hi to the water. A quiet start to the day for just a quiet guy.

BACKGROUND / BIO

Charlie Hartman was born to Daniel and Melissa Hartman on October 7, 1993. The youngest of the Hartman crew completed the family, joining his big sisters Olivia and Miranda. Growing up Hartman meant you were in for a better than average upbringing where around every corner you would find love, support, and well… a whole lot of heart. With two older sisters, the Hartman house was very rarely quiet. A good portion of the time, screaming filled the household. Deciphering if those screams were angry or friendly became a true skill of the youngest Hartman sibling. Charlie, instead, would like to find quiet corners of their house to spend time in, usually reading or writing or picking up one of the many instruments he plays. His favorite hideaway was the nook in the kitchen. When he got tired of the snacks already in the kitchen, he would start to see what he could make with what was left in the pantry. He may not have always known he wanted to be a chef, but he knew he wanted to continue making his own food and having his friends and family try it.

Where he would be happy being just a spectator at home, Charlie didn’t want to miss any experience in school. Learning was fun for him. Bringing home a report card with anything besides As would have been a shock to everyone who knew Charlie. He started playing football in grade school and made the varsity team his freshman year of high school. He made sure to never miss a pep rally or an art show. He participated in all four of his high school’s musicals just for the experience - even going on to play Seymour Krelborn in Little Shop of Horrors his senior year. With both of his sisters out of the house for his last few years of high school, Charlie found himself participating in anything he could. After years of trying to find the quietest places at home, Charlie kind of missed the noise.

After his high school graduation, Charlie had a hard time thinking about leaving Merrock. This was his home. Deciding there was still plenty of time to leave his hometown in the future if he decided to, Charlie opted to complete his Bachelor of Science degree online at Drexel University while taking culinary classes at a local university. By the end of the summer following his college graduation, he had been hired at Mack’s Bar & Grill as their junior chef.

Now, in 2022, almost seven years after first being hired, Charlie is now the head chef and purchasing manager at Mack’s. He loves his job and can’t see leaving Merrock any time soon - except for the occasional adventure he takes with his two pups, Murphy & Scout.

[danielleespositostatenisland]

Danielle Esposito Staten Island ’s Adventures - The Endless Pursuit of Wanderlust

A traveler’s mind differs from an ordinary one. It seeks new adventures in every nook and corner of the world. And let us just say it is hard to satiate it. This especially goes for Danielle Esposito Staten Island. His adventures are no less than awe-inspiring. Born and raised in Staten Island, New York he has traveled extensively across continents and cultures. From the bustling streets of New York to cozy corners hidden among the serene landscapes, Danielle Esposito's travels have been marked by relentless pursuit of discovery. Read more at: Exploring the World: The Adventures of Danielle Esposito Staten Island.

An Adventurous Spirit

For Danielle Esposito Staten Island, the world is a vast arena waiting to be explored. He embraces every new adventure with a deep-rooted sense of curiosity and wonder. For him, travel is all about chasing the unknown. He essentially thrives on the excitement of discovering new cultures, landscapes, and experiences that lie way beyond the familiar confines of the home. Trekking through dense forests, traversing the rugged terrains, or exploring new cities- you name it, and he has done it. He seeks the thrills one gets by stepping out of the comfort zone.

People, Places, & Stories

But what truly sets Danielle Esposito Staten Island’s adventures apart are not the places he has been to but the amazing people he met along the way. From fellow travelers sharing the tales of adventure over a campfire to amiable locals welcoming him into their homes with open arms, the true essence of travels lies in the connections forged and experiences and memories shared. He firmly believes that every journey has the potential to inspire, educate, and transform both the traveler and the world around him.

Traveling With a Purpose

Beyond the trill for travel, Danielle Esposito Staten Island’s travels are motivated by a deeper sense of purpose and passion. He believes in making a difference in every place he goes or anyone he meets. Be it educating people on important topics, promoting sustainable travel practices, raising awareness on pressing environmental concerns, or simply sharing the beauty of the world with others. His travels go way beyond being mere exploratory adventures. Therefore, in essence, Danielle Esposito’s adventures aim to leave a lasting impact on the destinations he visits and the amazing people he meets along the way.

The Journey Continues

So, how far did Danielle Esposito Staten Island travel to satiate his wanderlust? As far as the horizon touches the sky! He continues to explore the unknown, seek new adventures, and meet new people. For him, it is not just about the destination but the countless experiences that one gets to have. As his journey unfolds, one thing is certain, there will be many more adventures waiting to be discovered, and Danielle will be there, ready to answer the call of the unknown once again. As he continues to answer the call of the unknown, here's to the endless horizons, the uncharted paths, and the boundless possibilities that lie ahead.