#moon would be better at stopping gregory from being seen

[vypridae]

May I suggest:

Sb au where Moon isn't evil. He helps protect Gregory from Vanny.

hmm. this concept fucks actaully.

[m1st1x]

RUIN Theory! - Entity

Spoilers for RUIN up ahead about some coincidences that might not be so coincidental. .

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So the bunny entity, what—or who—is it? Because it doesn’t act like Glitchtrap, who wanted to trap you so it could get out. In fact, it only attacks when you’re trying to deactivate the security nodes. I think it would’ve been quite peaceful if Cassie didn’t try to deactivate everything. It’s against the animatronic in the basement getting out, so it’s probably on Gregory’s side (the enemy of my enemy is my friend…ish). That wouldn’t make any sense for Glitchtrap.

While I was watching a second play through, I noticed something. There were two Nightmarionne plushies that I’ve seen, one of those being a collectable. The collectable is found right after you see the electric door and Gregory says to turn off all the security nodes, and the sitting plush is in a maintenance area after unlocking a security node (sometimes the Entity is there, sometimes it isn’t). The sitting plush is a child node itself, which is a strange and seemingly purposeful choice. So that’s odd, right? Two plushies that are connected to the security nodes. And as you probably know, Nightmarionne is connected to the Puppet, who is connected to Charlie.

Looking at the Entity, it has the same main colors as the Puppet—all black with white markings. And the energy (?) that pulses along its arms looks kind of like the Puppet’s stripes in some instances. The Entity looks like a bunny, it’s made to remind you of Glitchtrap, but what if that’s the point? Helpi, who is working with the animatronic in the basement, can control what you see to a degree. What if he’s using that to make the Entity seem more intimidating, but still keeping some aspects like the color? We’ve seen both purple and green glitches on it in the trailer, so maybe that’s an indicator. Plus, the security nodes are themed around bunnies as well. What if the VANNI security mask just makes things look like that?

The Entity was “destroyed” with golden glitches, which could be a parallel to Princess Quest, but Helpi’s eyes turn a similar golden color when the veins are present. In addition, his little visor thing (that isn’t present at the cutout ending, but his outfit is entirely different so I’m not sure how much that means. Maybe it’s the best version of him?) is golden too. Who knows?

EDIT: there is an arcade machine that’s called “Clowntown Throwdown” in the hallway to the daycare entrance. If we’re following my last theory, could this be a reference to CB and Charlie battling?

EDIT II: the Entity doesn’t necessarily stop you while you’re helping Sun and Moon, it only watches when you’re in the play structures even though it could definitely go through to get Cassie. Now that could be because it can’t do anything since no animatronics are able to get there soon enough, but it could also be that it wants you to help them, for better or for worse. And there are AR blockers in front of the generators, possibly to discourage the lights being turned on by anyone from the animatronic in the basement’s side. The Entity also seems to guard the room above the daycare (Sun and Moon’s room presumably) despite there being nothing in there that would trigger it. What’s that about?

EDIT III: looking at the Entity’s design again, it kind of looks like it has Puppet’s smile. Both of their mouths are wide open and smiling, and it’s especially obvious when you see it in the purple digital world. Just looking at both their faces, you can see some similarities in their face shape and overall design. Puppet was probably once called “Security Puppet,” after all.

[lizardrosen]

I'll Board Him Presently

Part Three of my ongoing Viscount's Men series, about the Bridgerton siblings performing Hamlet. This covers the first half of 2.2: Hamlet's antic disposition up to the entrance of the Players (Part One, Part Two)

tagging @glintglimmergleam and @avocado-moon

Anthony doesn’t think Eloise should go to university, but his Hamlet thinks her Ophelia should get to go study wherever she pleases. It’s something he has in common with Benedict’s Laertes, and with Benedict himself for that matter. (Hamlet would say one of the few things they share; Laertes would say one of the many things). They’re both in awe of her “most ingenious wit” and the more Hamlet observes the corruption of this place he’s always taken for granted, the more he thinks it’s no place for her.

Hamlet also shares Laertes’s irritation with Polonius, which is both less personal and less tempered by love, and now that he’s pretending to be insane he can say whatever he wants as obnoxiously as he can manage, and no one will stop him. When he tells Polonius, “Let her not walk in the sun,” he’s mocking his policy of keeping her locked away because it’s obvious that he’s the one behind Ophelia refusing Hamlet’s letters.

Hasn’t he learned by now that she’ll find a way to do what she wants, with or without his permission. Hamlet’s also playing a game with himself to see how silly he can get Polonius to act to try to humor the prince, and the answer is “quite a bit, actually.” The asides justifying his near-nonsense as wiser than his years is even better than Hamlet could have planned.

“Will you walk out of the air, my lord?” “Into my grave?” is a sincere question, he’s really asking if that’s where he’s headed, and “except my life, except my life, except my life” starts out joking but then he thinks about how hard and how easy it is to take a life, and if someone kills him first he won’t have to kill anyone. It could almost transition straight into To Be Or Not To Be, but even though Anthony is fairly open to different character interpretations, he’s a purist when it comes to rearranging scenes, so instead he’s greeted by Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, of young days brought up with him.

Tom Stoppard hasn’t come along yet, and neither has Samuel Beckett’s Waiting for Godot which inspired him, or the world wars which inspired that, so Ros and Guil don’t have the existential terror of being written characters with no context but each other, or the double-edged sword of fate and probability. What they do have is Gregory, who’s quite used to playing small roles that move the plot along and are forgotten again, and he gives them enough of an inner life to make them interesting to perform and to watch.

As far as he’s concerned, it’s just saying the quiet part loud that the king and queen have summoned them from nowhere to learn as friends what royalty cannot, and even though he’s destined to die offstage, Horatio’s horrified reaction to Hamlet’s casual slaughter is memorial enough for him.

So here they are, wearing a hat he can turn around on his head to show and R or a G depending who he is for each line. Sometimes he changes his name with a flourishing bow, hat in hand, but if the dialogue’s quick enough he’ll just reach up to spin it around. He’s also got enough energy to move around quickly and appear to be in two places enough, if you suspend your disbelief a little.

Anthony agrees that Hamlet hasn’t seen them for several years, almost a decade, which is of course an unfathomable amount of time for Gregory. They were schoolfellows, but not at Wittenberg. Hamlet hasn’t talked about his life to his parents for so long that these two were the only ones Gertrude knew for sure he’d ever been friends with and knew where they were living so she could send for them. And clearly they don’t know Hamlet very well because if they did they’d be trying to hide incredulous snickers at “Sure I am two men there are not living to whom he more adheres,” because ma’am, Horatio is right there.

Still, she’s not that far off the mark, Hamlet does remember them fondly and becomes a younger, more carefree version of himself — “Then you live about her waist, or in the middle of her favours?” “Faith, her privates, we,” becomes a tickle fight.

When Hamlet asks why his friends have been sent to prison he’s not testing them or doubting their motivations, not yet. It’s just self-evident to him that Denmark a prison and no one would come here willingly, but he thinks it’s bad luck and not a plot that brought him here, so he’s a little jealous that they’re such strangers to Elsinore that they don’t feel trapped by it.

Ros jumps on the chance to steer their talk to ambition and shadows and dreams, and Guil follows his lead because that seems a likely reason for him to be acting so strangely. Hamlet takes note of the abrupt change but is more interested, for the moment, in chasing down the shadow of a dream, but he’s observing them more closely after that, and after intentionally muddling the imagery of who’s following whom, the kings or the beggars, he abruptly changes their direction again — “Shall we to the court? For by my fay I cannot reason!” — and they’re too quick to wait upon him. This is when he really starts feeding his own suspicion with little tests and needling questions.

Gregory doesn’t play them as nervous or guilty when Hamlet questions them more in particular, or even sly when they’re trying to figure him out — they’re just innocently doing the task they’ve been given, so they have no idea how much danger they’re in, and they’re confused why it’s so important whether they were sent for or not, but there’s no hasty consultation for them to get their story straight, and no awkward regret before Guildenstern answers, “My lord, we were sent for.”

Hamlet’s almost relieved that this was relatively easy, but then he gets suspicious of the feeling of relief, and weary of his own suspicions, and he figures they’ll come up with something to tell the king and queen no matter what, so if he at least gives them something true that doesn’t touch on Claudius he’ll be that much safer.

And maybe he hopes they’ll understand how he’s feeling, and he’s disappointed but not very surprised when Rosencrantz makes it into a joke. Why should he have hoped for them to be other than they are? Ros fumbles for an explanation and comes up with the players, so Hamlet switches his attentions to finding out everything about them.

[newtonsheffield]

Running with the Goose and Edwina theme here...

Ben and Edwina obvs spend a lot of time with each other as photographer and model and then friends...

And from Edwina totally putting the biatch that is Rosanund down... she’s clearly a huge Sophie fan (and the fact Ben’s stopping moping about his mystery Sophie though probably annoys her just as much with stories of Sophie...)

How does Goose react meeting Ben and then Sophie as well...

And how to Goose and Sophie get on seen as they’re both in total awe of how someone like Edwina/Ben loves them and wants to spend their lives with them... as I can totally see them being super cute and being all “that’s my wife/that’s my husband” together 🥰

Any Ben/Soph and Eddie/Goose friendship stuff would be amazing 🥰🥰

Okay! 

Edwina and Ben knew one another professionally before Kate was dating Anthony, and then of course, Edwin and Eloise have been friends for years, so Eddie had met most of the Bridgertons before Kate had actually. 

And yes Ben drove Edwina almost as insane as his siblings mooning over Sophie. Ben and Eddie work together quite a lot and he became very fussy with his shots while he was looking for Sophie because he was focussing on what he could control: work. This of course all culminated in Edwina storming off a shoot one day with a snappish Don’t tell me how to do my job, Ben. And Yes! Edwina loves Sophie! I mean... How could someone not ??? I mean, there also both very lovely, kind hearted people and I think they would get along very well.

Sophie Beckett had been ridiculously nervous when she’d walked into Kate Bridgerton’s living room and saw Edwina Sheffield slumped on the sofa. Sophie had been nervous enough to have been invited for morning tea with Kate, her stomach churning the entire way over, and then she’d seen Kate’s sister, sitting there, fresh off her second election as England’s most beautiful woman, and Sophie had had to fight the urge to run out the door. Kate had tutted, nudging her sister’s legs to make room for herself on the sofa, Sorry Sophie, my sister is like a parasite when Cake is on offer, I couldn’t get rid of her. Kate said dryly, as Sophie took a seat, perched on the edge of the armchair smiling nervously as Edwina tossed her sister a sarcastic look before turning towards her, a startlingly beautiful smile on her face. Sophie! I hope you don’t mind but when I heard you were coming I had to stay to meet you! Ben has told me just so much about you! And Sophie could barely force herself to keep smiling. She knew Benedict and Edwina were close, they worked together often, and given their siblings were married they’d become friends. Benedict had even said just the other week You’d like Eddie, You’re a lot alike. And Sophie had balked at the idea of having anything in common with this woman. It’s nice to meet you,Edwina  Benedict has the loveliest things to say about you. Sophie had forced herself to say, a little unnerved by the way Edwina raised her eyebrow sceptically a laugh in her voice. He had better. Honestly Sophie, the shit I put up with when that man was looking for you. Sophie felt her mouth drop open in surprise as Edwina continued unperturbed Now I was at your work the other day and let me tell you: The salmon was beautiful! And as Sophie settled in the the Sheffield girls she couldn’t help but feel as though perhaps she’d just made a friend as well.

Matthew Bagwell had been very nervous when his girlfriend had mentioned that he’d been invited to Violet Bridgerton’s house for dinner one Sunday night. His brow had furrowed and he’d found himself saying But I’m... not related to her? Edwina had tilted her head curiously and said That doesn’t really matter to Violet Mum and I are always invited, we’re kind of family I suppose. I just want to show you off. leaving a little kiss against his cheek that seemed to burn afterwards and he’d found himself agreeing. Edwina had chattered the entire way there. Gregory is getting married to Lucy Abernathy in September, and There’s Colin and Penelope who are very sweet, and Hyacinth is 17 but honestly terrifying, oh! Francesca is here at the moment! And Matthew had choked trying to remain casual Francesca will be there?! Edwina had chuckled teasing him with a kiss on his cheek as they stood at the door I forgot about your little crush on Frankie, I’ll be sure to introduce you don’t worry. And swung open the door leaving Matthew spluttering on the doorstop. He’d been immediately drawn into a warm hug by Edwina’s sister, greeted with a terse Goose by Anthony and fixed with the kind of glare that made Matthew squirm. He was just about to open his mouth to try and have a conversation with Anthony when a taller man appeared next to him, slapping Matthew on the shoulder. Don’t worry about Anthony! He likes disapproving of people! Eddie! I’ve been waiting for someone fun to get here!  He said Smiling Charmingly as he wrapped his arms tightly around Edwina leaving a kiss on her cheek. And Matthew felt a ridiculous surge of jealousy shoot through him for a split second until the man stepped back, plucking a small blonde woman seemingly from thin air This is my beautiful fiancée Sophie! and Sophie sighed, shaking Matthew’s hand lightly And he’s Benedict, though he probably forgot to mention that between teasing his brother and Eddie. And Matthew felt instantly more relieved. Until Edwina gave him a wicked smirk when they sat down at dinner, and forced him into a seat next to Francesca Bridgerton.

Matthew was still a little uncomfortable attending functions with Edwina, even now as her fiancé, even when she kept her arms wrapped tightly around his waist smiling happily as she met people. introducing him with a little hint of pride in her voice Have you met my fiancé Matthew? He could see her now, giving a quick interview with Benedict over their recent Burberry campaign, her smile bright, her hands moving like a little whirlwind as she explained something and Matthew felt a soft smile coming to his face, a surge of pride that this incredible woman wanted to marry him. A soft hum came from beside him They’re pretty incredible aren’t they? Sophie said, drinking from her champagne glass. Matthew nodded I was just thinking that. I think all the time how glad I am that she bumped into me in the museum. Sophie smiled. You’re telling me. I left Benedict’s dinner in front of him and he got it into his head that he wanted to marry me. She said still in disbelief, her engagement ring glinting on her finger. And when Edwina stand up to accept her award with Benedict later, No one is cheering louder than Matthew who lets out a wolf whistle, Edwina shooting him a slightly embarrassed look, Benedict Grinning proudly at his own fiancée hooting happily beside him.    

[frustrated-writer-skyeknight]

Afterstory

Read here

For a moment, can we just talk about how Tony pretty much claimed a home not his as his new boyfriend’s family’s home? This kid is living the thug life lol.

"Thank you for letting us stay here, till the next birthday, Frederick. Oh, and do tell if you're planning on snacking on the humans. I call dibs on the adorable munchkin."

Rudolph placed a hand on his forehead, with Tony hiding behind his shoulder. "Auntie, for the last time; they're friends. Besides, we have that 'no biting humans' rule, right?"

"Wasn't that for before? When we were lying low, right?"

Frederick chuckles, "Regardless, the rule still stands." he says.

"We just made our peace with the mortals," Freda interjects, "no need to start it up again." she says.

After the interesting events that transpired for the last three days, Tony managed to convince his parents to prolong their stay, and  the Sackville-Bagg family got used to their new home and the old couple more or less come to terms that the vampires are not so bad. It took a while and a whole lot convincing (Anna not to do it using her spell, included.) But after a few nights, and with their necks still free from being bitten, they came to a compromise, thanks to Tony; that every Halloween, the family would act out and role play to attract some tourists annually, insinuating that they would be moving statues or vampire actors, similar to the attraction in Disneyland, so that The Bed and the Breakfast could attract more tourists. Tony was already begging his parents to let him take a week off from school to come visit during Halloween for their debut. Rudolph was just glad that the old humans let his family stay without reporting them to any vampire hunter.

Considering they got Rookery thrown into a mental asylum with his claims of vampires are real, it wasn't really a problem. Nevertheless, Frederick and Freda found that they liked their new home.

The Thompsons were more or less accepting the fact that vampires exists at all.

Tony Thompson was more or less psyched about the entire thing. Definitely more.

(Except when Rudolph's relatives tried biting him the first few times. But that was an understandable exception.)

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Rudolph and Tony were now hanging out in the human's room. Apparently, Rudolph hasn't chosen a room for himself yet. While his friend was there, he decided to stay with him. The only change was that they got an actual coffin for Rudolph now. They were exchanging stories... well, the vampire was. Tony's sharing was mostly information, some explained in anecdotes. Half the time, he had to stop in the middle of it to explain some expressions.

"Okay, how about this." Tony starts, nibbling on some chips. He got Rudolph to fly him into the nearest town to buy snacks that this castle was severely lacking. "he looks like one, and she looks like one, but just to confirm, is your father an alpha, and mother, an omega?"

Rudolph frowns, scratching his head. He was only familiar with that term when it came to werewolves, and even he hasn't met an actual one yet. "My parents are vampires; those terms are used on those canine creatures. A counterpart to our patriarch and matriarch term referring to male and female heads of family."

"Ah, no, no. Not that kind of alpha, omega." Tony said, waving his head dismissively. "Hmm, maybe it doesn't really apply to vampires, anyway. I can explain it better if we just have some internet, and I can show you this link that popped out on my Facebook News feed just before coming here..."

Every time Tony says something, Rudolph has a new word to learn. "Facebook?"

"Oh, and this is what we call Facebook." Tony explains, showing the vampire his phone and pointing at an icon. "I can't use it right now because I don't have any data, and this castle doesn't have any internet. Well, yet. I heard mom and dad convincing those old folks to get it installed since tourists would be expecting that in order to post on their timeline. Or Instagram it, which is getting popular these days."

Rudolph nods, "Hmm, interesting technology. But," he frowns, "what is internet? And... 'Instagram'?"

"Heh, we should have one day where I dedicate explaining internet and apps alone." Tony chuckles, "Basically, it's some special features on a this device we call mobile phones."

Rudolph examines the device, "So these days, humans don't use phones for calling?"

"We do, but we also use it for other stuff. Like... Well, just think of it as... a very advance phone. You've seen phones, right?"

Rudolph hums, "A bit... But yours is way different than what I saw before father moved us to the vault, and pretty much just stayed there since. So I never really got to use it since I wasn't human anymore by then." he shrugs.

"Huh, human..." Tony repeats, thoughtful. "you say that... So that means you weren't a vampire from the start. And your parents...?"

Rudolph turns to Tony, "Still my parents. Only ones I've ever known, anyway." He says, "Whoever my parents were, they couldn't keep us. Too poor, or so Gregory remembers. I definitely don't remember, not after being turned anyway, only wondered if I've ever met them at all. Gregory was the only one who really cared for me and Anna, till our parents, the ones now, took us in."

"Oh, I didn't think that... I'm sorry, Rudolph."

However, the vampire just raised a brow at this. "Why do you apologize?"

"Well, it's just that... You're technically all dead, after all." Tony points out, "and it's a shame; somehow... you never got to meet your parents."

Rudolph just shrugs, "Don't know if it even counts as being dead, we still sort of do what the 'alive' does. As for my birth parents, well, no point on dwelling on what I never knew. Older brother was sent to the workhouse at one point. We never saw him again until after he was turned, and had father change us as well so we could be a family with Frederick and Freda Sackville-Bagg. Those were my parents then, and they're still my parents."

"Well, if you say so," Tony manages to smile, "it's kinda cool, that you all look alike even if you aren't related. Well, to your parents, that is."

Rudolph shrugs, "Father says that those turned tend to develop some semblance to the one who turned them." he says.

"So how about your parents then, who turned them?"

"In their case, they were born as vampires." Rudolph told him.

Tony frowns, "Born... As in babies?" he repeats, "I thought vampires don't age. Aren't you guys stuck the way you were when you're turned?"

"How do you explain me being thirteen then?" Rudolph made a look, "of course we age, just differently. Have you seen my aunts and uncles?"

Tony scratched the back of his head, "Yeah, that did raise some questions for me." he admitted. "But how does aging work for you guys? I mean, I really thought vampires were immortal. Timeless."

"We are immortal, in the sense that time means nothing to us." Rudolph waves a dismissive hand, "as for why my aunts and uncles look like who you humans would call the 'elderly' is because of the blood they've consumed. I don't drink blood except for animals', both mother and father haven't had a drop since... well, since they turned us."

Tony raised a brow, "Blood ages you?"

"Not exactly. We choose the form we wish to stay as, which is why I've been thirteen all my immortal life so far. It's a bit like that expression you said the other day, uh, 'Time flies when you're having fun?' Did I say it right?"

Tony nods, "So... you guys don't age when you don't have... fun?"

"No, not that either. But it's like the breeze, sometimes you don't notice it among other more visible things in your surroundings. Especially in our case, nothing special ever happens, as if we're stuck doing the same thing all over again when the next moon rises." Rudolph tells him, "Basically, we can choose not to rush our aging. According to Gregory, mother was in the form of a fifteen year old till she met father." Rudolph says, "But human blood, while a pleasurable nourishment to us, also acts like a drug. Likewise, too much of it weakens the willpower needed to maintain the form of our choice." Tony still looks thoroughly confused. "All right. Think of it this way. You mortals have lifelines, think of the numbers of age a human would miss out on once they're drank, or turned." he explains further, "the 'growing old' part of mortal living transfers to the vampire who drank it's blood. My aunts and uncles can no longer will themselves to maintain a youthful appearance because some of them drank too much human blood. Then again, not so bad a thing; that's why our clan is so big. However, for the same reason, father and mother don't like having human blood as much anymore, Well, aside from the initial plan of maintaining a low profile. They prefer and are contented with their form right now."

Tony nods, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "I get it now... I guess." he says.

"Hmm, that reminds me..." Rudolph starts, frowning suddenly. "you're gonna die someday, too, right?"

Tony gapes, staring at his friend. "Wow, this took a bleak turn fast." he says. "But yeah, technically. Still young though, so my lifespan still has some ways to go." he elbows Rudolph. "you're gonna see me hanging around for at least a hundred years, if I'm lucky to live that long."

"Huh, yeah..."

Rudolph suddenly felt apprehensive, something he hasn't felt in a long time. That thing he dealt with when Rookery invaded his old home didn't compare. Even while he was afraid for his family, some small part inside him still knew he wasn't going to lose his family and maybe Tony had something to do with that small part. But the thing with Tony being human, like others, growing old and eventually dying, being buried while vampires wait for their bones to disintegrate to occupy their coffins... It left a cold ache in him.

He didn't want Tony to be reduced to that.

After being turned, Rudolph never knew anyone close to his age. Or sort of his age, in Tony's case. He had Anna, sure, but she was his sister. She was family, like Gregory was, and like the whole Sackville-Bagg clan was. But he never had a friend, a real friend like Tony. Someone who would go through lengths to help him without family ties and responsibility compelling him to. Even when they just met, and even when Tony didn't know exactly what he was getting into by fighting against vampire hunters, he still did. Because Tony had a good heart. Which was one of the things that Rudolph loved about him.

Loved? Rudolph blinks, shaking his head. He blushes, No, like... It's like. Friends like each other after all...

Which was why he was thoroughly annoyed with Anna, who tried stealing his friend with her spell, didn't even let it come naturally. Rudolph may not remember much of his old human life, but he does remember that it wasn't right. Besides, Tony was his not hers... his friend and not hers. And Rudolph knew there was only one way he could keep his friend for a very, very long time.

But Rudolph had a feeling that Tony wouldn't agree to that idea, not just yet. Plus, there were his parents to think about. And while Tony seemed to find vampires cool, it didn't seem like he wanted to be one himself. For one thing, while the blond enjoyed their night excursions, Tony would probably miss going out in daylight freely. He did want to drag him and Anna to swim down the lake earlier in the morning till he remembered that vampires burn in the sun.

So maybe not now, Rudolph thought. But... maybe someday.

Because for some reasons, after meeting Tony, even while he couldn't explain why, Rudolph couldn't imagine spending more than one hundreds without him.

"Hey look, I think the sun's going down." Tony approached the curtains, and opened them. True enough, the sun has finally set. He grins, turning towards Rudolph. "Hey, I just remember the old lady mentioning something about a natural hot spring somewhere up the mountains. Better than the chilly lake those jerks dumped me in last week; how about that swim, huh?"

Rudolph grins, getting on his feet. He walk towards the window and they both pushed it open. "Well, what are we waiting for? Let's fly."

"Right on! Oh," Tony pauses, thinking. "how about your sister? She might want to join—woah!"

The blond didn't get to finish his sentence as Rudolph drags him out into the night.

────────────────────────────────────

The weeks of summer seemed like days by how fast they went by, and the next thing Tony knew, it was time to return to America. While he was disappointed that summer was coming to an end, like most boys his age would be, he was especially upset now. After everything he's been through... Everything he and Rudolph's been through, it was hard for Tony to imagine going back to his normal reality.

More to the point, it was hard that he needed to say good bye to Rudolph.

He's never had a friend, not quite like Rudolph, and not just because said guy was a freaking vampire. While he did have some friends back home, no one really understood his obsession with vampires. He didn't understand it himself, to be honest. Most kids his age didn't strongly believe in the supernatural anymore, unless they were conspiracy theorists or the like. But even Tony knew that wasn't it; he was drawn to the concept of vampires. Even his mom said his first word was vampire. (Vam-vam, technically.) And while he would cry easily when anybody tried scaring him when he was a baby, seeing vampire movies just made him laugh, even the not-safe-for-kids type of movies.

He even wished his future soulmate would be a vampire at one point, no matter how his parents kept telling him that they didn't exist.

Speaking of, it was almost his time for that. Although it didn't necessarily happen every single time, but a person would usually end up meeting a soul mate prospect by the age of fourteen, since fourteen was the age people usually started presenting their secondary gender. More often than not, the first prospect doesn't always work out because both individuals weren't mature enough to understand the concept of soul mates, so they break it off by mutual agreement. And just like that, the link is broken, giving the individuals freedom from the bond, and to find the next prospect without ties to the past. But the thing about soul mates is that the first prospect is the most ideal, if it was managed properly the first time.

Nowadays, most people don't end up with their ideal soul mates. Tony knew his parents weren't each others' ideals, after all. But maybe it came with his obsession with the supernatural, but Tony was hoping to get it right the first time. At first, he thought it had been Anna. But when he looks at her, when she wasn't looking back at her or talking to him to use her spell, he didn't really feel connected to her at all, not the way his mom would describe the soul link sensation.

Then again, he wasn't fourteen and has yet to present as a beta, like his parents, or the unlikelihood of being an alpha or omega.

"Tony, dear, hurry." Dottie Thompson calls out to her son, "we need to catch our flight."

Tony waves at her from where he still stood, near the castle's entrance. "Give me another minute, mom!" he turns back to the Sackville-Bagg family, but mostly Rudolph. "So, remember how to log into Skype. Cause that's the only way we're talking till next summer."

"Or Halloween." Rudolph says insistently.

Tony chuckles, "Fingers-crossed." he literally did just that. He saw the confusion on, not only Rudolph's, but the family's faces. "Oh, uh, it means... Something along the lines of 'Hopefully, it happens'."

"Oh, well, in that case," Anna smiles, showing off her perfectly white teeth, "Fingers crossed."

Tony smiles back at her, enchanted for a moment again. Gregory rolls his eyes before purposefully getting between his sister and the mortal, to which Anna made an opposing cry. Undeterred, Rudolph steps forward and holds Tony in an embrace. The first time the vampire did it, the human was too startled by the gesture to react, and maybe a little awkward. But this time, Tony returned the hug, finding that he was already missing the vampire, and he hasn't even left yet.

Rudolph pulled back first, "I'll see you in the skies." he says.

"It's Skype, but pretty close." Tony chuckled before stepping back, practically walking backwards to the car until finally reaching it. He inhales, and turns towards his parents. "Can I please—"

Bob Thompson sighed, expecting. "Your mom and I discussed it, yes, we'll let you off for Halloween IF" he pauses, "you get mostly A's or A+'s on your card before then."

"But that's—" Tony starts before sighing, "Fine." He gets in, and Bob drives off as the first ray of dawn starts showing.

The youngest looks back to the castle, already shrinking as they got farther and farther into the road. He wished to catch one more glance of his friend, but he knew the family already returned into the castle for refuge from the sun.

Soon... Fingers-crossed.

[swynlake-spill]

TMI i want to bang all the swynlake business owners. tell me being hot af isnt a part of the business application.

you are entirely right! i will now rate swynlake business owners on a hotness scale of my own invention-- aka looks but also MONEY

1. Tiana Truitt: 1000/10

obviously i cannot rate tiana lower than her infamous nawlins GUMBO HONEY!!!! slap me with those chili peppers why are we not MARRIED YET. plus have u seen her? me scrolling thru her insta is like snorting peppercorn directly into my sineses. SHE HAS ME IN TEARS

2. Gregory Eeyore: 12/10

obvoiusly he is no tiana and i fear his animal grooming business does not rake in the numbers that would fully support my funko pop habit. BUT with every piercing his power grows. if he gets a nose piercing at this rate... i will start barking and i will not stop!

3. David Hatter: 278/10

this score is 100% bc Hatter's MUST be the most profitable business in swynlake. its got the natives, its got that sweet sweet tourist moolah-- its BASICALLY the face of this town and what a quirky and sweet face it is! David's face? Passable! Am terrified if I say more the DILF anon will rise from the grave i put them in!

but also nothing is hotter than a man who can brew a strong cup of tea ;)

4. The Sykes: 9/10

one point deducted for suspected crime via the sykes brothers!

wait let me change that rating to 231231 b/c i dont want to die. also tbh rita can carry that place on vocals alone just wish she wasn't getting dragged down by men...

i mean I LOVE THE SYKES AND I THINK THEY R GREAT

5. Vixey Chakraborty: 10/10

OUR NEWEST OF THE BUNCH! Because of this I cannot rate her on how well her business can do, but i'll speculate that miss vixey will turn herself into a staple of swynlake before we can say moo (that's a cow joke). if this were a FMK challenge we all know everyone would choose vixey to marry! sometimes good girls dont finish last!

6. Tallulah Robinson: -10 for Crazy, +100 for $$$$

...and sometimes they do! if there was a duel to the death between tallulah and vixey my heart would want vixey to win but my head would inevitably bet on robinson. she's got somethin somethin in her eyes that terrifies me to my core...and makes me deeply horny

wait was this supposed to be about businesses again eye

7. Mr. Moon: 75/10

nobody can tell me this guy doesn't like a little BDSM in the bedroom (Business, Development, and Supply chain Management)

8. Peri Frostbrittle: A SEX ON THE BEACH / 10

peri frostbrittle deserves BETTER than my terrible jokes! i think we all know who the best business owner is in swynlake

9. The Acherons: -900 for being demons, +900 for those faces, which brings us to a neutral score of 0.

am so happy that reading is alive and well bc of our own bookstore! do not know how i feel about it being run by a sexy demon! certainly unpredictable, tbh feel like thats a book that would become a new york times bestseller if turned into a sappy love story ala time traveler's wife. thanks acherons for inspiring my next movie script!

11. Al McWiggin: 10/10

A PERFECT SCORE ! al continues to be the man of my dreams, all funny and cute and approachable, like the only one on this list i would actually go for in real life bc i respect myself and want a loving partner who will support me financially while also making me laugh! yes this my text recommendation for al mcwiggin's ok cupid profile. feel free to copy and paste, my friend!

12. Elsa Sommers: 8/10

points deducted bc inevitably business drops in the winter and thats when i spend the most money (yes i DO need at least 10+ ugly christmas sweaters how else will i make people laugh and therefore feed my self worth and sense of purpose in life?) also i feel like we moved on from the "my business was incased in a big ol chunk of ice" too fast and i want answers!

still hot tho. melt my ice cream anytime, elsa!

13. Martin Ambrosius: 500/10

are 499 of these points for the rock puns alone? yes. could i make an EXTREMELY inappropriate rock pun of my own using the word hard rn? yes. will i? no-- you’re welcome. 

 i have no idea how profitable selling rocks and crystals is, but i am willing to gamble on mr martin if it means i can stare at this hunky nerdy hottie FOR FREE! now brb im using the lil mining sand pits to look for a diamond so i can propose to martin ASAP 

[pendragonsandbuckleys]

hold me like the moon holds onto the tide (3/3)

Summary: Kidnapped and locked in a cell with no escape. Alex and Michael are faced with an ex-Caulfield employee who is prepared to do anything to get alien powers of his own. (Inspired by the Daisy/Sousa scenes in Agents of Shield 7x06)

Word Count: 3,804

[Also on AO3]  [Part One] [Part Two]

“What about the time he tripped over your guitar and smashed his head into the table?” Flint leaned back as he spoke. The hard plastic of the chair was digging into his back and it squeaked as he tried to get comfortable.

He’d never liked hospitals. The strong antiseptic smell that seemed to linger in the air. The rush of people in the day and the quiet hallways at night. The big scary words that made no sense but always seemed to mean something bad. The unnatural mix of cleanliness and death.

He didn’t mind them so much when he was younger. His mother had always told him that they were hopeful places, where illnesses were cured and lives were saved. Thinking back, it was probably just her protective way of trying to calm his nerves whenever a grandparent was sick.

But at that age, her positive nature imbued in him a childish hope that the doctors would be able to help his brother. That soon they would realise that that many broken bones and bruised ribs a year was so much more than just a clumsy child falling off his bike or losing his grip whilst climbing a tree.

He couldn’t remember when he’d stopped wishing for someone to work it out and just accepted that no one would. It was probably around the same time he’d stopped accompanying his brother on his too frequent visits and had left that responsibility for someone else.

The last time he had actually stepped foot inside a hospital was after his unfortunate accident during CrashCon. Healing up in the unwelcoming, lonely hospital room for a week wasn’t fun but at least he hadn’t needed to worry about the condition of anyone else during that time.

No, the last time he’d been on the waiting for news end was during his last tour when several members of his team had been seriously injured.

Until now. Which is why part of him was glad that he wasn’t alone in his vigil.

“He must have been about eight, right?”

“Oh my god, there was blood everywhere!” Gregory grimaced as he looked over at him, horrified that his brother was even bringing up that memory.

Flint laughed softly at how uncomfortable the recollection had clearly made his brother, ”You felt so guilty! I don’t think you even got your guitar out of its case for months afterwards.”

Gregory shook his head, a smile playing on his lips. He wasn’t sure when this game between them of who had the most embarrassing moments had just straight up turned into a list of which brother had managed to injure another the most.

It was true though. He hadn’t slept properly for days after that incident. Every time he had closed his eyes he had seen Alex’s poor little face covered in blood and tears and snot and he’d felt the guilt brewing inside him. He had avoided the guitar out of fear that he would somehow manage to wound his brother with it again.

To this day he still makes sure that the instrument is kept off the floor.

“You know, growing up, I think that was the last time he was in the hospital where it wasn’t dad that put him there.” He replied sombrely.

Flint hummed in response. He had run out of words to say on that subject. It was a topic that had slipped frequently into discussions between the two of them during their months of reconciliation and it always ended in the acknowledgement of their guilt and desire to do better.

Gregory pressed the heel of his hand into his eye. It had been a long day and he could feel the hours catching up with him. “I really hoped I would never have to see him in a hospital again.”

"Were you there after he lost his leg?” Flint asked.

“No, I didn’t even know it had happened ’til months later. Did you?”

”No. I think Dad went though.”

“Seriously?”

Flint nodded with an unamused look on his face.

“Why? It’s not like he went to go play the loving father.” Gregory asked, genuinely confused as to why his dad would even bother to take the time to go and see Alex.

Flint shook his head as he repositioned himself again. At this rate he was honestly considering going on a hunt for a pillow. “That man didn’t know the first thing about being a loving father.”

Gregory’s brows furrowed as he failed to hide his surprise at that statement. The expression was so familiar and Flint couldn’t hold back an exasperated eye roll.

“Don’t give me that look, I may have followed in his footsteps but I know exactly what kind of man he was.”

Gregory watched as his brother played with the cuff of his jacket, his thumb and forefinger running along the edge before tugging uselessly at the material. It was a nervous habit that he’d always thought their father had managed to train out of Flint.

“Do you regret it? Following him?” He asked delicately, noticing how Flint’s eyes remained trained on his sleeve as he answered.

“We all followed him.”

“Into the military, yeah, we didn’t exactly have a choice. But on his little homicidal mission? The rest of us hopped that train before it reached the station.”

“Umm more like he didn’t even invite you onto the train. You have no idea what you would have done.” Flint replied defensively and Gregory was caught off guard by how much the look in Flint’s eyes reminded him of their mother.

“Pretty sure I wouldn’t have done that.” He teased, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Yeah alright, well I’ve apologised, okay?” Flint rolled his eyes again as he leant over and gave his brother a playful shove.

Their conversation fell into a comfortable silence as their gaze drew back to the third presence in the room.

Alex hadn’t woken since Flint had found him but in the hours since they had brought him to the hospital his cheeks had gained more colour and he looked to be resting more peacefully.

Clean bandages hugged his various wounds, several IVs were in place to begin replenishing what Hughes had stolen and now all they needed was for him to wake up.

It was strange watching their brother sleep. The last time they would have had the chance was when they were all living under the same roof together, but Alex was always so guarded back then with their father in the house that he would never allow himself to be seen in such a vulnerable state. Starting after their mum had left, Greg could probably count on one hand the number of times he’d seen Alex sleep and they’d all been due to illness or injury.

The hospital ambience of the room, along with Greg’s wandering mind, was interrupted by a text alert on Flint’s phone. He slid his hand into his front pocket and pulled out the device, unlocking it with a quick tap of four digits. He opened the message and Greg watched as his eyes scanned the words.

“It’s Clay. He says he’s glad we found him and to keep him updated.”

Greg’s eyes crinkled slightly as he smiled. It had been a long while since he’d seen Clay in person but he was glad to hear that their brother was also onboard for acting like a family again. “Who would have thought it. It only took us until our thirties but we’re all finally learning how to be brothers again.”

Flint opened his mouth, ready to give a sappy reply about how he much he’d missed the bond they’d all had during childhood, when a small groan from the bed caught his attention.

Alex’s brow was furrowed as he poked his tongue through his lips slightly - a tiny habit that Greg could recall seeing him do all the time when he was younger. After a few moments his eyes blinked open as he let out another involuntary groan.

Greg couldn’t help but grin as he watched Alex slowly register his surroundings. Being closer to the top of the bed than Flint, he leant forward and gently placed a comforting hand on Alex’s arm.

“Hey.” He whispered, keeping his voice low as to not startle his brother.

Alex turned his head slightly, his unfocused eyes drifting to the left as he followed the sudden sound. “Hey,” he replied, his words slow and soft. “You’re here?”

“Of course we’re here.” Greg began to rub his thumb back and forth along Alex’s arm in a soothing gesture. “How are you feeling?”

“Tired.”

Greg was unsurprised at the answer. Alex’s eyes were already struggling to stay open. “Go back to sleep Alex. You’re safe now.”

Alex had only allowed his eyes to close again fully for a moment before they were flying open again, Michael’s name being drawn from his lips with a gasp.

Greg continued the soothing motion, bringing Alex’s gaze back to him. “He’s fine, he’s okay. He’ll probably be here the next time you wake up.”

Alex nodded as he let his body relax once more and drifted back to sleep.

Greg looked over to Flint to find him wearing a matching smile, nodding to himself in an unspoken acknowledgement. Alex was going to be okay.

-

The door to Alex’s room opened carefully.

Michael had noticed that the lights inside had been dimmed so he hadn’t wanted to wake anyone, though he was wholly unsurprised to find Greg and Flint watching him with raised eyebrows as he entered.

“Thought you were gonna try and get some sleep?” Flint asked in near amusement.

“I did get some sleep.”

Greg tilted his head sympathetically. “Michael, you’ve been gone barely an hour.”

Michael shrugged as he took a seat in the one remaining chair on the other side of the bed, “No one specified how much sleep.”

He had tried to get some rest but every time he closed his eyes it was like there was an invisible string yanking him back to the hospital.

Isobel had taken him home as soon as Kyle had assured them all that, in time, Alex would be fine. She had spent the drive spouting on and on about how he had been through as much of an ordeal as Alex had and he needed to rest and look after himself. Or at least let someone else look after him.

The words had been left hanging in the air between them for a good few minutes before he had fully registered her kindness. And then he had just felt a horrible pang of guilt deep in his stomach. Guilt that her compassion and protectiveness didn’t quite warm his heart as much as Alex’s had.

So he listened to her. He ate the small plate of food she had lovingly made for him. He drank the hot cup of tea that burnt his tongue. He showered, letting the scolding water wash away the overwhelming fear that had been building up inside him ever since he first woke up with his hands chained to a wall. And then he crawled into Isobel’s bed and tried to ignore the nervous energy that was still sitting heavily on his chest.

And he had slept a little, he wasn’t lying about that, but it was like his brain knew that there was somewhere else he should be and he just couldn’t take it any longer.

“How’s he doing?” He tugged at his bottom lip as he observed Alex’s still sleeping face.

“Better.” Greg nodded, taking a moment to hide a yawn with his hand. “The doctor came back while you were gone. Said he’s probably gonna be quite weak and achy for a few days at least. But the transfusions are helping and he should be fine.”

Michael ran a hand through his curls. It wasn’t much more information than Kyle had provided earlier but to hear that nothing had gone wrong in his brief absence was relieving.

“He woke up not too long ago.” Greg continued and Michael looked at him, somewhat horrified that Alex had woken without him. It must have shown on his face.

“Calm down Guerin,” Flint snorted, “it was for like thirty seconds, he probably won’t even remember it.”

Michael could practically feel the heat crawling up his cheeks. No matter how protective and borderline possessive he felt of Alex at the moment, it was still embarrassing for anyone but himself to be aware of that fact.

“No it’s good, I’m glad he’s okay.” Michael coughed as he tried to deflect the conversation.

But Greg seemed to know how to catch him off guard all of a sudden as he turned it back onto him. “And how are you feeling?”

Michael took a few seconds to process the fact that Alex’s brother seemed genuinely concerned in his questioning.

“I’m fine, my powers are back and everything.” He replied warily. With Jesse Manes gone, he knew that he wasn’t in any danger from anyone currently in the room, but it still felt strange talking about his alien abilities to any Manes man that wasn’t Alex. “I could probably do with a bit more sleep before I try to use them, but whatever Hughes did to me has worn off.”

“That’s good that it wasn’t permanent. We’ll still go through all the data that Hughes managed to collate though and find out exactly how much he knew.” Flint said strategically and Michael could practically see the mental to-do list he was creating in his head. “And as long as you’re aware that you should be sleeping, I think our job here is done.”

Greg smirked at his brother’s comment. It was very clear that getting Michael to rest was a battle they were not going to win tonight.

“Talking of sleep, you know you two look worse than I do and I was literally being held hostage a few hours ago. If you want to head home for a bit I can stay with Alex.” Michael said innocently as he watched Greg yawn once again.

“Greg, I think that’s code for he wants some alone time with our little brother.” Flint mocked in a hushed tone.

“Hmm I think you’re right Flint.” Greg joined in, watching as Michael’s eyes widened as he spluttered in defence. “Or do you think maybe it’s just our company he doesn’t like?”

“Oh definitely. He’s been waiting for the moment to get rid of us.”

“We must have done something really wrong considering the person he wants to be left with is still asleep right now.”

“That is so true Greg. I mean he’s clearly desperate so we should probably leave now before we make it even worse.”

Michael rolled his eyes as he failed to control his smile. It was a display of brotherly mocking that he never imagined he would ever experience from someone other than Max and Isobel and as embarrassing as it was, it was somewhat heartening to be on the receiving end of it.

Flint chuckled as he stood, his back instantly grateful to be out of the chair, and he took one last look at Alex before leading the way to the door.

“Text us if you need anything, okay?” Greg placed a hand on Michael’s shoulder as he passed him and squeezed reassuringly.

Michael nodded as he watched them leave, afraid to open his mouth incase no words came out around the sudden lump that had formed in his throat. Having seen the hateful side of the Manes men in action, there was something so heartwarming about seeing Alex’s brothers actually be brothers. And to be included in the familiarity was a whole new feeling entirely.

-

Michael looked out at the stars shining through the window. The lights were still dimmed which allowed the moonlight to fill the room around him with a soft, pale glow.

He still remembered all of the constellations that he had taught himself as a kid, back when he was so desperate to soar high into the sky to join them. Back when he’d give anything to find his home planet again.

But looking into the glimmering darkness now, he couldn’t remember how long it had been since he’d stared at the night sky in search of the home he was unwillingly torn away from.

In fact he couldn’t quite remember how long it had been since home, for him, had started to be a person again.

Michael made no attempt to stifle a yawn as he rubbed at his eyes. They were aching terribly and he could feel his body hopelessly crying for sleep but there was no way he was leaving until Alex was awake.

As if on cue, a small noise from beside him shook him out of his doziness.

He watched Alex’s throat bob as he swallowed reflexively before slowly blinking open his eyes.

“Hey,” Michael whispered. His voice so soft the word barely left his mouth.

Alex’s eyes wandered momentarily, seeking out the owner of the voice. Once his gaze locked with Michael’s, all Alex could do was stare, a small smile emerging as he took in Michael’s presence. “You’re okay?”

“Yeah,” Michael looked at him tenderly as he leant forward and laced his fingers with Alex’s. A somewhat casually intimate move that he didn’t regret in the slightest. “And so are you.”

Alex looked down at the touch and relished in the warmth of Michael’s skin against his. The act of their hands together feeling so natural.

“How are you feeling?” Michael asked, his tired eyes looking longingly into Alex’s.

“Sore.” Alex replied and Michael couldn’t hold back the huff of laughter.

“Well, that’s what happens when you offer yourself up to be a guinea pig for a crazy psychopath.”

Alex playfully rolled his eyes at the accusation. He could practically feel his head pounding in time with his heart but he did his best to ignore it. He’d willingly accept the throbbing of his muscles and the coldness in his bones right now if it allowed him to just stay in this moment.

A few aches and pains were worth it. He was just glad to be alive.

“Did he hurt you?” He asked, enjoying the way the moonlight was shinning on Michael’s curls.

“No, he didn’t touch me.” Michael assured him, “Isobel, Flint and Kyle got us out before he could do anything else.”

“How did they find us?”

“Turns out Sanders was still at the junkyard. Luckily he managed to catch the tail end of our little kidnapping so he called Isobel who called everyone and they spent the entire night trying to figure out who had taken us.”

Michael still couldn’t believe the luck they’d been in that the old man had chosen that night to stay late. They may never have been found if he hadn’t.

“Flint went to the bunker to look for possible alien connections when he found emails between Hughes and your dad. He recognised the name as someone he worked with in Caulfield so he followed the trail and it led him to us.”

Alex added another bullet point to his mental Project Shepard to-do list. If thoroughly digging into every email on the bunker’s computers was what was needed to prevent Michael being targeted again, then so be it.

“Of course he won’t tell me how it led him to us. It seems that’s classified.” Michael brought up the hand not holding Alex’s to do some one-sided air quotes.

“What about Hughes and his men?”

Michael shrugged, “Dealt with, apparently. Your brother is very secretive when he wants to be.”

“Must be a Manes thing.” Alex smirked sleepily.

“They were here earlier by the way. Flint and Gregory. They would have stayed but I used my charm to convince them that you’d much prefer to see my face over their’s any day.”

Michael winked at him and Alex felt butterflies. “Always.”

Michael gazed down at their locked fingers as he slowly ran his thumb up and down in a comforting gesture. He knew what he wanted to say next, but the words just felt so big and he needed to get them right.

“You shouldn’t have protected me like that. And I shouldn’t have let you.” He began sincerely.

“Michael-”

“But I’m grateful that you did.”

Alex’s lips parted but he couldn’t find the right words quick enough.

“We need to talk. Like properly talk. But what happened today, it made me realise how stupid it is to not be honest about how I feel.” Michael looked up and could see how intently Alex was listening. His beautiful brown eyes eager and hopeful.

“I can use as many excuses as I like. How we’re not good for each other. How it’s not our time right now. But you almost died, Alex. And if you had, it would have killed me. And if you had gone not knowing how much I care about you.” Michael shook his head as he looked away. The lump forming in his throat again. “I’m completely and totally in love with you Alex Manes. Always have been, always will. I can’t run away from it anymore and I’m done hiding it.”

Alex bit his lip as he felt the tears start to form in his eyes. He had been waiting to hear those words for so long.

He had been waiting to say them for even longer.

“I’ll never stop protecting you. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me and I’m sorry I didn’t appreciate that before. I’m sorry I’ve pushed you away in the past and I’m sorry that I wasn’t ready. But I’m ready now.” Alex grinned, almost giddy at the declaration, “I love you Michael Guerin. Always have, always will.”

Michael could feel his heart hammering in his chest as his breath caught in his throat. He pursed his lips in an attempt to curb the ridiculous grin that was threatening to unfurl.

He gently unlaced his fingers, pushed himself out of the chair and leant over to delicately cup Alex’s cheeks, feeling the cool skin under his palms.

As dramatic love declarations go, tonights was pretty remarkable. But maybe it was exactly what they needed. They were here, they were alive and they were in love. That was the truth, spoken aloud with only the stars as their witness and there was no taking it back.

And Michael didn’t want to wait a second longer as he closed his eyes and met Alex’s lips with his own.

It was a gentle kiss. Slow and sweet and just as perfect as he remembered it being.

It was home.

[aspiring-ginger]

Words (Jaskier x Reader)

Request: Could you please do a Jaskier x reader, where the reader has had a rough, very upsetting day, so she goes to Jaskier and asks if he would sing to her to help her calm down? Gives them both a chance to vent, and she gives Jaskier the appreciation he DESERVES for his wonderful singing 😍

Warnings: Language

Word count: 1,705

Pairing(s): Jaskier x fem!reader (The Witcher)

Song: Words, by Gregory Alan Isakov

A/N: Here you go, nonnie! This took awhile, but I hope you liked it! This song has always been one of my favorites, and it instantly popped into my head while trying to think of songs Jaskier would sing. It’s very calming and beautiful, and I highly recommend giving it a listen! 💜

Comments and feedback are always appreciated!

Taglist: @thunderdog8​ , @dreaming-about-starfleet​ , @dandelionwitcher​

Masterlist

You nodded in thanks as a bowl of stew was placed in front of you. There was no way to tell what kind of meat was even in it, and what you thought were supposed to be vegetables were just grey chunks. Maybe it was some sort of dumpling? Either way, it looked disgusting. But it was hot, and that’s all that mattered.

You’ve been travelling with Geralt and Jaskier for some time now, and it honestly feels like you’ve been on the road forever. It had taken at least an hour’s worth of pestering from both you and the bard to convince Geralt to stop for the night at some unnoteworthy small town, instead of pressing on before camping for the night. So, at least this food was hot and not hunted and cooked before your very eyes. There was a chunk of bread to go with it, but as you moved it to grab your spoon, it fell to the table with a thud. That thing was stale.

Honestly, you didn’t expect any better from this stupid town. Your day was spent arguing with shopkeepers who overpriced their goods just for you. Literally, A man looking through the same wares as you was given a lower price, but when you approached the owners with the same items, they raised the price. You had a sneaking suspicion it was because of your disheveled appearance, and the fact that you were a woman carrying a weapon.

That was just ridiculously stupid, as you were travelling on the road with a gods forsaken witcher. Of course you needed weapons to protect yourself. It didn’t matter if you actually used them or not, but both Jaskier and Geralt felt better with you having one.

Anyway, while Geralt was off seeking any contracts or work suited for a witcher, Jaskier sought out any rich families who might want his musical entertainment for the night. After all, once you’ve seen one tavern, you might as well have seen them all, so playing in one was not quite exciting. Although as much as the bard would complain about his songs and skill being much too good for such a tavern, money was money and he would still play if need be. So that left you with the task of restocking and repairing equipment, as well as tending to the horses.

Your body was still sore from your second task, and you absolutely reeked of horse. While leading Roach and Jaskier’s new horse (who seemed to have a new name every day as Jaskier was very indecisive) into the tavern’s stables, something must’ve spooked the horses and some idiot hadn’t properly taken care of their horse. The frightened mare broke free and ran straight into you, knocking you down into a fresh pile of horse dung. Of course.

It had just been a shit day overall, and you wanted nothing more than some food in your stomach, although this ‘stew’ in front of you didn’t look particularly appealing, and a hot bath. You grimaced and chewed through your dinner, trying to ignore the strange textures from...whatever it was that you were actually eating. You didn’t even bother with the bread, it was way too hard to chew, and just wasn’t worth the effort. You shoveled the slop as into your mouth as quick as you could, desperate to get on with the meal and hop straight in the bath. Of course the universe just wanted you to be absolutely miserable, because when asked about the baths the innkeep directed you in the right direction, but there was no hot water. Cold water only.

You had to take a deep breath to hold your tears of frustration at bay before you stomped up the stairs. There was no way you were letting this horrible town get the best of you and see you cry.

Just as you expected- the baths were freezing. You did your best to get yourself clean, shivering as you scrubbed. It would have to make do. Once you were clean and not a second after, you hopped out of the bath and trudged up to your shared room with Jaskier.

You weren’t sure if you wanted him to comfort you or simply let out your frustrations alone. These were all very silly things to get upset for, but you were already in a foul mood to begin with, and the world’s punishments were seemingly endless. It was very silly, so you should be able to deal with whatever life handed you. You cursed to yourself as you thought this, your eyes welling up once again.

It seemed you didn’t have a choice in the matter- as you opened the door you saw Jaskier in a chair against the wall, lute in hand and bits of parchment crumpled and strewn about the floor around him. You mumbled a greeting as you headed straight for the bed, plopping yourself down and not even bothering with the blankets. Jaskier looked up from his notebook and furrowed his brows in concern.

“Are you alright, love? You didn’t even say hello.”

You didn’t respond.

“Darling? What’s wrong?” He gently placed his lute on the floor and stood from his seat.

“Just a bad day, that’s all. Don’t stop working on a song just because of me.” Your voice was muffled from the pillows. There was a pause as you heard shuffling around you. The mattress dipped as Jaskier sat down.

“It’s okay, love. I want to hear how your day was. If something’s the matter I want to help.” He reached out a hand and began to gently massage your back.

“Shitty,” You grumbled.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You shook your head. “ Is there anything I can do to help you feel better?” You thought for a moment and then shrugged.

It was comforting just being in your lover’s presence, but you didn’t know what he could do to make your day better. You felt bad interrupting his work. Jaskier just waited, rubbing circles and miscellaneous shapes into your back.

“Maybe….you could sing for me? Show me what it is you’re working on?” You asked.

Jaskier shifted and his hand stilled. “Well, I had this song almost finished and ready to go, but when I showed it to Geralt, he just said it was worthless. I’m sure you don’t want to hear that. It’ll take some time for me to rewrite everything to make it good, if any of it is actually salvageable. Are you sure you don’t want to hear a different song?”

You frowned and turned your head to face him. “Geralt didn’t actually say that, did he?” He nodded. “Well that’s stupid, your songs are always good and Geralt has no idea what he’s saying. You said it was almost finished, I want to hear it.”

He sighed. “Would that help you feel better?”

“Yes.”

“Alright fine, but don’t say I didn’t warn you. Nothing I’ve written lately has been any good.”

You didn’t respond and waited for him to begin.

“I erm, I had you in mind when I wrote this, but I don’t think it does you any justice, and I love you so much and I just want it to be perfect for you, because you deserve the best and nothing less.” Jaskier rambled.

“Julian. I’m sure I’ll love it. Just play.”

He sighed when you used his full name, and picked up his lute. He began to strum a few notes to get back into the rhythm, then he began to sing. His soft voice carried around the room as he gently plucked each string.

“Words mean more at night

Like a song

And did you ever notice

The way light means more than it did all day long?

Words mean more at night

Light means more

Like your hair and your face and your smile

And our bed and the dress that you wore

So i'll send you my words

From the corners of my room

And though I write them by the light of day

Please read them by the light of the moon

And I wish I could leave my bones and my skin

And float over the tired tired sea

So that I could see you again

Maybe you would leave too

And we'd blindly pass each other

Floating over the ocean blue

Just to find the warm bed of our lover

And i'll send you my words

From the corners of my room

And though I write them by the light of day

Please read them by the light of the moon”

The tears that had been threatening to spill all day finally broke through, spilling down your cheeks and staining the pillows.

“I-It’s really meant to be more of a poem talking about a song, or just a poem, but I thought that it would sound best with music, but obviously it needs a lot of work…” He began, wringing his hands and playing with the ring around his finger.

“Oh, Julian.” His head snapped up when he heard your sniffles. “That was one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever heard. Geralt is a fool for not appreciating your work.”

“(y/n), please don’t cry, I-”

“No, Jaskier. I’m crying because I’ve had a terrible day and you just played one of the sweetest songs for me. These are good tears.”

Jaskier smiled as he climbed back into bed with you.

“I loved it.” You were quick to fall into his embrace, resting your head on his shoulder.

“You really think so?” He pulled you closer, pressing his lips to the top of your head.

“Of course. It was wonderful.”

“I love you with all my heart, (y/n).” He murmured into your hair.

“And I love you.” You snuggled closer, letting a few stray tears drip onto his shirt.

Jaskier held you like this for a long time, whispering sweet words when tears would begin to fall again. As he heard your breathing slow, he hummed the melody one more time. There was a small smile on your face as you drifted off to sleep, knowing that you were safe in his arms.

Taglist and Requests are open!

[potter-loves-malfoy]

you have a few favorites? They don't have to be brand new or anything. Just some that you love?

I have some new and some old! Also some Jeddy cuz I’ve been reading a whole lot of Jeddy lately, but I’ll put those in the end! Also, this is gonna be mostly smut because that's what I mostly read unless I’m in a very wholesome mood. This is gonna be long, like very long, I’m bad at picking favorites there are just too many (34 to be exact, apparently and this is the most I could narrow it down). (I also ran out of things to say because I remember loving those fics SO MUCH but I dont remember enough to give a “review”)

The Magic Cat by dot_the_writer

When Harry sees Draco Malfoy with painted nails and wearing an oversized jumper covered in cat fur, his obsession from school comes back in full force. Featuring supportive friends, cute cats and lots of Harry figuring out what he wants.

This one I read just this morning when my best friend asked me to rec her some hurt/comfort (hi Jess) and it’s my most recent favorite. Sooo cute!

A New Page by bixgirl1

Draco just wanted to find out what was up with Potter’s new attitude. Some light stalking, the discovery of a hidden diary, and a lot of wanking later, and he has some answers.

They’re just not the ones he expected.

(Things have changed since sixth year, folks. …Mostly.)

This one also, I read fairly recently and I mean @bixgirl1 fics, do I even need to say more?

The Tapestry of Kinship by khalulu 

Harry is at loose ends, Draco is good with needles, and Draco’s young daughter wants to see a certain tapestry repaired. The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black will never be the same.

Helix by Saras_Girl

Seven months after the end of the war, Harry is feeling lost. Fortunately, he is about to be offered an unexpected and sparkling chance to find himself again. [2014 advent fic]

Sanguis Vita Est by Shiguresan

Whilst Voldemort’s prisoner, Draco is made a vampire and forced to take Harry as his first meal. With Draco managing to resist the temptation to drain him, just barely, in a moment of blind rage at what he has been forced to become, he aids Harry in the destruction of Voldemort. But even with that threat vanquished, once back at Hogwarts, Draco finds himself disturbingly addicted to Harry’s blood. And amongst all this, a dark shadow looms ominously on the outline of the forest, watching them closely. A vampire!Draco story and also an ‘Eighth year’ story.

I read this ages ago but I remember hesitating before I started to read this because it’s 312k+ and I didn’t really read super long fics back then, but I loved this so much, also vampire!Draco is a good

Turn by Saras_Girl

One good turn always deserves another. Apparently.

My favorite execution of the “character’s life kinda sucks so character magically gets sent to an alternate universe” trope. Oh also, it’s part of a series

dirtynumbangelboy by magpie_fngrl

After Harry’s unfortunate encounter with his ex, Draco Malfoy makes him a proposition. Draco wants his parents to stop matchmaking him and Harry wants to make his ex jealous. All they need to do is simply pretend they’re in love. Problem is… Draco already is.

Again another amazing fake relationship fic!

Give Me Sweet Oblivion by tryslora 

Italy seems like a long way to go to keep a fetish secret. But the club is exclusive, and the far away location, and Muggle nature, promises anonymity from Wizarding Britain. The only problem is that sometimes, great minds think alike.

One of the actual hottest smut fics that I’ve read, recced to me by my friend @the-cellar-spiral Fun fact, we planned and failed to write a kind of sequel to this, we had @tryslora ‘s permission and everything, we just never really had time, but who knows maybe in the future.

Every Me and Every You by bixgirl1

Harry liked his life just fine, thankyouverymuch — so it was bad enough when a sly fairy cursed him to leap into alternate realities. But seeing Malfoy in all of them? Definitely way too much. And worse yet: needing the bastard’s help to figure out how to get out of of it.

It was a disaster waiting to happen, really.

Well… probably.

Another AMAZING alternate universe fic, using @magpiefngrl ‘s tumblr prompt AU’s as said alternate universes that Harry keeps going in and out of, which makes it 974957839 times better! Also Unspeakable!Draco, also the alternate realities are almost always sexual and it’s great

Dating for Dads in Denial by aibidil

In which one wizard designs and another reluctantly patronises a magical matchmaking service, amidst the chaos of children and parenting.

Since You Asked by Magnolia822

Newly retired Draco Malfoy writes an anonymous agony column for the Quibbler, for which he quickly gains a reputation for offering pithy, practical advice. His life is comfortably predictable until he receives a letter from a reader seeking a divorce from his wife of thirty years. The situation seems far too familiar … could the writer be the Savior himself?

Salty Sweet by Aelys_Althea

Draco was a Master. He’d always been one, but having a town of Muggles consider him as close to God’s gift as they would ever receive was certainly validating. Except it wasn’t enough. After years of settling, of conjuring masterpieces with his fingers and his prowess, Draco realised he needed a change.

How hard could it be to find an apprentice pâtissier that did what they were told? As it happened, doing ‘what was told’ was about the last thing on his inevitable prospect’s mind. Trust Harry Potter to be the one to turn Draco’s life upside down.

Moldova’s Magical Tea by aibidil

Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood, and—to everyone’s surprise—Draco Malfoy are opening a magical tea shop to revive wizarding tea culture and, hopefully, to bring the community together after the war. Harry, who is unemployed and trying to find his way in post-war society, wants to help his friends with their new business—but that means spending a lot of time around Malfoy. Featuring Muggle music from summer 2001, trips to the Muggle cinema, herbology and magical herbal infusions, and Draco trying to convince Harry that, while he’s still a snarky git, he’s no longer a bigot.

The Critiquer by dysonrules

When Harry submits his cock photo to a renowned Cock Critiquer and gets a terrible review, he decides to take a photography class to hopefully improve his skills.

Career Choices: Harry: Shiftless layabout; Draco: Cock Critiquer

But, In Dreams by kedavranox

Harry is a Seer, with a particular affinity for speaking to the dead, but this comes at a price he’s slowly killing himself to pay.

My Name Was Safest in Your Mouth by alpha_exodus

Harry didn’t ask for Malfoy to walk into his shop after so many years. But one event leads to another, and soon they’re scrambling to help Hermione find the solution to one of the most insidious viruses the wizarding world has ever seen. To make matters worse, Malfoy’s hiding something, and Harry really wants to kiss him—except Malfoy doesn’t date. Ever.

I Can’t Take It! by XxTheDarkLordxX

After the war, Draco Malfoy became an author. A best selling author whose books move the hearts of those who read them. Which wouldn’t be a problem for Ron if all of them weren’t about Harry! It was obvious to him that Malfoy was in love with his best friend but why was it that no one else seemed to think so? He was going to get to the bottom of this and get Harry to stop mooning over the blonde idiot at the same time. Perhaps, they just needed someone to come along and get them to fess up. For the safety of his own sanity, Ron was going to help Malfoy ensnare Harry. That is, if they can get along long enough not to kill each other.

The Full Monty by magpie_fngrl

Harry poses for a naked Auror calendar and Draco goes batshit crazy with lust.

Tea and No Sympathy by who_la_hoop

It’s Potter’s fault, of course, that Draco finds himself trapped in the same twenty-four-hour period, repeating itself over and over again. It’s been nearly a year since the unpleasant business at Hogwarts, and Draco’s getting on with his life quite nicely, thank you, until Harry sodding Potter steps in and ruins it all, just like always. At first, though, the time loop seems liberating. For the first time in his life, he can do anything, say anything, be anything, without consequence. But the more Draco repeats the day, the more he realises the uncomfortable truth: he’s falling head over heels for the speccy git. And suddenly, the time loop feels like a trap. For how can he ever get Harry to love him back when time is, quite literally, against him?

Moon-Eyed by loveglowsinthedark 

Draco Malfoy, Head of Veela Affairs at the Department of Magical Beings, does not do people favours.

Harry Potter, recently turned werewolf, is not “people” – not to Draco anyway.

Does Draco plan to fall in love with Harry when he decides to help him? No. Does he end up falling in love with him anyway? Pft, what do you think?

Adventures in Solitude (Are You There, Sirius? It’s Me, Draco) by oceaxe 

Draco is grateful to have had Sirius’ portrait to confide in all those years ago, about his sexuality and unwanted feelings for a classmate named Harry. But when he gets the portrait out of storage after twenty years, the secrets he has kept from Sirius all along come out. Secrets about Draco’s role in the war… and secrets about Harry Potter.

Proof of the Pudding by gracie137 

When Greg’s bakery opens on Diagon Alley, Draco doesn’t expect it to the place he ends up finding love, but then again Harry Potter had always ended up defying Draco’s expectations.

AKA: The One Where Gregory Goyle somehow ends up running both a bakery and a match making service.

The Rules of Matchbreaking by PalenDrome (nerdherderette)

For Prompt #51:When Draco gets fired, he reluctantly agrees to break up a girl’s relationship for her disapproving mother. Through word of mouth, the one-time gig turns him into a professional Matchbreaker, however he winds up falling for one of his clients and must somehow balance his secret job and love life.[excerpt]:“So who is it? The Curse-breaker and the Veela? The head of the Department of Magical Transportation?” Draco’s eyes lit up. “The Dragon-tamer?” Now that particular Weasley could be fun.

“No. It’s Harry,” Hermione said, the name exploding out of her in a rush.

Draco blinked, stunned into silence.

“Harry,” he said, after he recovered his faculties. “You want me to break up Harry and the Weaselette?!“

One Night at the Leaky by birdsofshore

Harry should have known better than to accept a drunken dare. Especially when Malfoy was sitting right there, looking like that and wearing those bloody tight trousers.

This is the very first Drarry fic I read, while trying to research dares for a seungchuchu fic I was writing at the time and it is the fic that made me ship Drarry and it will always hold a special place in my heart.

Ligabus Filium by Tessa Crowley (tessacrowley)

It should be careful, deliberate, but it isn’t. Like every other part of their relationship, it happens gradually and then all at once, before they even realize it. And when the little blue threads bind them together, there’s no going back.

The Printed Press by Soupy_George

Draco Malfoy was still slightly amazed that he was standing on the doorstep of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. He never would have thought that Harry Potter’s very public and very … sweary, emotional explosion would have led to him offering Draco, of all people, a job.

All Life is Yours to Miss by Saras_Girl

Professor Malfoy’s world is contained, controlled, and as solitary as he can make it, but when an act of petty revenge goes horribly awry, he and his trusty six-legged friend are thrown into Hogwarts life at the deep end and must learn to live, love and let go.

Foundations!verse by Saras_Girl

Reparations by Saras_Girl

Harry is about to discover that the steepest learning curve comes after Healer training, and that second chances can be found in unexpected places.

Foundations by Saras_Girl

When one door closes, another one opens – with a bit of a push. Life, love, and complications. [sequel to Reparations]

So this was included in my healer!Harry rec list but this series is just so good also it has way too many fics in the series for me to link to all of them but once you read the two main fics there’s no way you’re not gonna wanna read the one-shots that come with the series as well.

Are You Mine? by gracerene

A trilogy of fics set in an Epilogue-Compliant Harry Potter ‘Verse, with various accompanying time-stamps and one-shots. Fics are in chronological order.

Not Just When You Want to Be by gracerene

A little over a year after the end of the war, fate seems intent on pushing Harry and Draco together. Staying together is a different matter entirely.

What I’m Waiting to Find by gracerene

James has devoted the past two years to being the best damn Chaser that Puddlemere United has ever seen…and to getting over his teenage crush on Teddy. But when Teddy comes back to England after a long stint abroad, James’s resolve to move on is put to the test.

All of the Time by gracerene

Twenty-five years later, Harry and Draco find their way back to one another.

I read this one fairly recently as well and this is definitely one of my all-time favorite series, the first and third fics are Drarry and the second is Jeddy. I honestly love this so much that I lowkey want to go find @gracerene09 down and thank her for writing such an amazing series. Oh fair warning though, the first fic made me ugly cry and opened a wound that only the third fic could heal so you know, prepare yourself. There are also accompanying oneshots that are also v amazing!

This Must Be the Place by aibidil

When your dad is Harry Potter, your face shows up in Teen Witch, your social media videos go viral, and sometimes your life depends on pretending to date your metamorph godbrother, whom you’ve been over for years, thank you very much. Or, the one where James and Teddy do animal yoga and risqué karaoke and their families could do with seeing fewer videos of them snogging.

I’m a sucker of the fake relationship trope and @aibidil wrote this sooo beautifully

The Hidden Side by gracerene

Twenty years ago today, James Sirius Potter was born into this world. Four years, two months, and six days later, somebody took him.

Oh god this, THIS Auror!Teddy is one of my favorite Teddy’s. Also super intriguing plot and still quite a few unexpected twists even though the biggest revelation you guess/know pretty early on. Oh and background drarry!

[falloutmexico]

Enclave Main Plot

Maybe the main secret of the Enclave is that they want to leave Earth behind and colonize the moon using a GECK from Vault M1 to terraform and build settlements. If you rise in the ranks of the Enclave, you will be shown the spaceship that they are building. That's why they're in Mexico: to extract as much oil as they can to make the trip, since it's more stable than nuclear power for the spaceship. They are training their soldiers to withstand things like zero gravity, G-forces, etc.

However, not all of the Enclave believe in this goal. Governor Moses Douglas is the head of the Enclave in Mexico and the moon colony is his plan. Some member of the Enclave Senate think he's insane or that the plan is a waste or impractical. The player can choose to ally with one of a few of the senators that wish to take control of the Enclave and change it's path.

The youngest Senator and an accomplished soldier of the Enclave; Senator Joseph Salam wants to scrap the moon colony idea altogether and work on developing the GECK's technology so they could terraform the Earth. He doesn't want to leave Earth behind or it's inhabitants. He says that they owe it to the planet to make things right and that the Enclave has the potential to save the world. He thinks that the Enclave should stay away from governing and focus on helping the people using their technology. He argues that Mexico already had its own fledgling governments and doesn't need the Enclave. He points to history to show that outside forces coming in to "civilize" a populace usually doesn't end well. The character is named after Abdus Salam.

Senator Adriana Eckhart is a former Enclave surgeon and medical scientist. She is a key figure in training the Enclave citizens for life on the moon. By her calculations, the years-long trip it would take for the space to reach the moon would have dire consequences on the bodies and health of it's passengers, maybe even the DNA. She is worried that a combination of low gravity and radiation would doom them before they even reached the moon. She wants the Enclave to fortify their headquarters and become isolationist again. She says that she has started to see mutations in the DNA of Enclave citizens from being in the outside world. She believes that the Governor's insistence on intermingling with the wasteland has tainted their DNA and that they need to stop this while they still have a chance. Her idea is to build underground at the El Paso-Juarez border, constructing an entirely underground society that would protect them from radiation and wastelanders alike. She thinks resources are better spent on more realistic options.

Senator Agnes Park is an Enclave war hero, having saved an entire platoon during her younger years. She is fiercely loyal to the Enclave and the Governor but thinks he is making a huge mistake. She thinks that the Enclave should take it slow by first getting a satellite in orbit of the Earth. It could serve as the new headquarters of the Enclave and would allow them to survey all of the planet, looking for pockets of civilization that may have survived the Great War. This would also give then a huge military advantage, being able to fire bombs from orbit.

The oldest member of the Enclave Senate and the Governor's closest advisor is Senator Gregory Maher. He is also the head of all scientific divisions and oversees their operations. He is the most senior member of the Senate and functions as a tie-breaker. He thinks the Governor is well-intentioned but misguided. He has a more drastic plan that he has been trying to promote for years: take over the entirety of Mexico and rebuild it from the ground up as an Enclave nation. Using the GECK from Vault M1, the Mexican citizens for labor and the oil in Mexico, they could build an entirely new society. He doesn't want to see his people die out. He argues that the wasteland will never be tamed without some form of law and order. He wants the Enclave to be that overseer.

As stated in the lore of fallout, the Enclave eventually wanted to leave Earth. I wish we had seen that in order games. The player would be able to leave Earth in their character's lifetime, but they could put the Enclave on one of many paths.

[slyke25]

2015

If you were to chart a graph of my happiness and passion for covering live music since the begging of this site in ‘09, it’d probably peak sometime in 2014, and 2015 would start the stow decline.  I now found myself pondering a question I wouldn’t be was possible many years earlier.  Is it possible to burn out on concerts?

I’ll dive into that question during my thoughts on 2016 (the end of my blog), but in 2015, I did manage to see some memorable shows.  I invite you to click on the bold print below for links to each of the 20 shows, where you’ll find photos, videos, and maybe even a few words.

These are just a handful of some of my favorite shows from 2015, and to see the full list of every show I covered in ‘15 (with links) click the ‘14-’16 archive here.

The Lone Bellow at the Paradise Rock Club (2.12.15) - These guys were visibly enjoying their success.  This ended up being a super fun show

Sturgill Simpson at the Paradise Rock Club (2.20.15) - This would be my first time seeing Sturgill live, and even though he was feeling under the weather, his performance exceeded my expectations, and he managed to crank out some killer jams.

Damien Rice at the Orpheum (4.7.15) - I remember when he released his album, O, back in ‘02.  I love that album, and it took me 13 years to see him. 

Sufjan Stevens Hartford, CT (4.12.15) - I’m a huge Sufjan Stevens fan, and even though I enjoyed The Age Of Adz (2010), I was patiently hoping for a new album similar to his earlier material.  On February 16, 2015, he shared the first single “No Shade In the Shadow of the Cross” from his upcoming album Carrie & Lowell, and I couldn’t have been happier.

Luckily, I managed to hear the full album before it’s official March 31st release, and was blown away.  This album was a welcomed bright spot during a dark time in my life, and I couldn’t wait to hear it live.  On a whim, I decided to attend the third show of his tour and traveled to Hartford.  While I officially didn’t cover the show, I did capture “Fourth Of July” on video, which was an incredible and intense version of the song.  He was still working out a few kinks for many of the new songs live, so it wasn’t a flawless performance, but I loved the show, and the new tunes sounded beautiful..

Sufjan Stevens (Citi Wang Theatre) (5.4.15) - This show was slightly more polished than Hartford, and Sufjan seemed to be finding his groove with the new tour.  I recorded “Blue Bucket Of Gold”, which was an epic13-minute long version of the tune.

Album Review: Sufjan Stevens - Carrie and Lowell (5.11.15) - I wasn’t only enjoying the new album, I was obsessed with it.  So much so, I was inspired to write an album review, which is something I never do, but was pleased with how it turned out.  You can read it here.

The Tallest Man On Earth (Calvin Theatre) (5.13.15) -  I always enjoyed going to Northampton for shows, and this was a special one, as it was the tour opener for his new album, Dark Bird Is Home.  

Courtney Barnett at the Sinclair (5.18.15) - Courtney was touring behind her debut studio album, Sometimes I Sit and Think, and Sometimes I Just Sit.

Boston Calling Day Fri (5.22.15) (Sharon Van Etten, Tame Impala, Beck) 

Boston Calling Day Sat (5.23.15) (Krill, DMAs, Mo, Run the Jewels, Tove Lo, Gerard Way, Marina and the Diamonds, St. Vincent, Ben Harper and the Innocent Criminals, My Morning Jacket) 

Boston Calling Day (5.24.15) (The Ballroom Thieves, Halsey, The Lone Bellow, Lucius, Jason Isbell, Vance Joy, TV On the Radio, Tenacious D, Jack Black, The Pixies)

Levitate Music Festival - Marshfield (7.11.15) - The Chris Robinson Brotherhood, Dr. Dog, Trombone Shorty and Orleans Avenue - Levitate started back in 2013, and this was my first time attending this festival, which I enjoyed.

Newport Folk Festival Day Fri (7.24.15) - (Joe Pug, Bahamas, Elephant Revival, Angel Olsen, Leon Bridges, The Lone Bellow, Calexico, Strand Of Oaks, The Tallest Man On Earth, Iron & Wine and Ben Bridwell, Heartless Bastards, My Morning Jacket, Roger Waters) 

2015 was absolutely stacked for Newport.  On paper, it doesn’t  get much better, and they were celebrating the 50th anniversary of Bob Dylan going electric back in ‘65.

Sadly, this would be my final year covering the Newport Folk Festival, as I ended my blog in the spring of the following year.  However, I’d attend the festival one last time in ‘16, just as I began - a fan looking to hear some music from artists I liked, in a beautiful waterfront setting among some fine folk.

Newport Folk Festival Day Sat (7.25.15) - (Spirit Family Reunion, Joe Fletcher, The Barr Brothers, Joe Pug, Langhorne Slim and the Law, Nikki Lane, Jason Isbell, Courtney Barnett, Sturgill Simpson, Tommy Stinson, James Taylor, Sufjan Stevens, The Decemberists)

Newport Folk Festival Day (7.26.15) (The Ballroom Thieves, Christopher Paul Stelling, Brian Fallon, Jon Batiste, Nathaniel Rateliff & the Nightsweats, Lord Huron, The Felice Brothers, First Aid Kit, Blake Mills, Laura Marling, Hozier, J Macis, Shakey Graves, Dylan ‘65 Tribute, Gillian Welch and David Rawlings, Willie Watson, Dawes, Robyn Hitchcock)

Van Halen at Xfinity Center (8.1.15) - This was one of those bucket list shows for me.  Oddly, I’d never seen Van Halen, and this was a pretty cool experience. 

Boston Calling Day Fri (9.25.15) (Gregory Alan Isakov, Of Monsters and Men, The Avett Brothers)  - As far as three-artist, day #1 concert goes, it doesn’t really get much better for me.  

Boston Calling Day sat (9.26.15) (Stephen Malkmus, Sturgill Simpson, Father John Misty, Walk the Moon, Chromeo, Chvrches, Alt-J)

Boston Calling Day (9.27.15) (Alabama Shakes, Bully, Daughter, Mister Wives, Nate Ruess, Ben Howard, Hozier) - This would be the last Boston Calling I would attend, and the festival would move from Government Center to the Harvard Athletic Complex in May of ‘17.

Nathaniel Rateliff & The Night Sweats (Royale) (11.6.15) - After first seeing the at Newport, I just had to see the band again.  I’d actually see them four times in Denver from 2016-’18.

Lake Street Dive (Club Passim) (11.18.15) - This was part of their “Memory Lane Tour,“ which included three Cambridge stops - two nights at Club Passim and one at the Lizard Lounge.  This very tiny Club Passim show (capacity 100) was quite special, and included songs from their upcoming album.

[renegadesrpg]

Dark Angels: Creation, Part 12 - Grace. Zav and Bryn

Zav: --Giving the area a last look around, I step into the old church and stand behind her. –

Damn, woman, you brought the whole thing. That expended a lot of energy. You know, you could have just brought the important tools and materialized the furniture and raw materials from closer by. It wouldn’t have taken as much out of you. Bryn: “I wanted my own things. I know the herbs were cut at the right time of the moon and a consecrated athame was used. I know the crystals have already been purified.”

And I wanted to keep the last connection to the one who’d helped me furnish the cavern, made the tables and cabinets and taught me so much. But I wasn’t about to say that out loud.

“Besides, it all comes from somewhere. We don’t just “make it” out of thin air. Sin might be powerful enough to do it, but when we do, it comes from somewhere.” Zav: --with a shrug, I look the place over and pick out a corner near the front with good natural light— That may be, but I figure with the risks we take, we earn it. When I materialize stuff, I picture it from a catalogue or someplace I’ve seen it on sale and get it from there. --That I generally find a way to compensate wherever I got it from goes without saying. Unlike the Horseman, Sin recruited honorable souls. Or in my case angels. Walking to the corner I’d scoped out…— This is good. It’s got good light. It’s open to your work area so I can be near if you need me, and vice versa, and I can see the door. We’ll ward the rest of the place against anyone, reaper, demon, angel or any other creature except through that door. --The shop… damn, I’m going to have to let some of my local people know I survived after this is all over. Dragon for one. And what if it made national news? What if Truely saw it? Panic spurts through my brain. What if she thinks I’m dead? What if she turns to someone else before I can get there…? No, no, no….I’m going to find her number and call her just as soon as I get this set up.— I think the chair right hear near the 10 foot tall leaded glass windows. And there are outlets in the wall along the back…. – When Sin had renovated he’d had this place wired for electricity and had installed generators too. After all, drug lords needed electricity to process product and they wouldn’t want the amount of energy used to alert any Polícia Federal. And I’m sure the local police were getting regular bribes from him as well. It would be expected. Sin made it a policy when dealing with humans to /always/ do the expected. Well, meeting those expectations worked for us too. Bryn was used to conjuring her own light in that cave she’d worked in, but I’d needed electric power to run my shop and I’d need it here too. Thinking back to a catalog I’d looked through a couple of weeks ago, I materialize a set I’d looked at. Tattoo chair with an adjustable head rest and arms and hydraulic control to raise and lower it, an artist chair, and a rolling tray. I look at the back wall and materialize a counter I’d seen there and then extra ink, pots, an autoclave and gauze and wrap from the same catalog the chair had come from on top of it. Later, I’d tally up the totals and move some money into the company accounts. Dropping my backpack on the counter, I turn to Bryn...— Ok, let’s get this show on the road. Where do you want me? Bryn: While Zav had been building his workspace I’d done basic anti-demon warding. He’d have to show me the symbols and spell for keeping out angels and reapers later, but for now we were safe. “Why don’t you lay down on your new handy dandy reclining tattoo chair?” While he moved to it, I unwrapped my ritual athame from it’s soft leather bindings and examined the edge. Sharper was better for skin. Less painful. The edge gleamed in the sunlight and drew blood as I ran my thumb along it lightly. “Perfect.” Zav: --eyeing her with the knife—You know what you’re doing with that thing? How to cut me to get enough without bleeding me dry? Bryn: Laughing, “Don’t be a sissy. You’re not the first ‘blood’ donor I’ve worked with, although you are the first grace donor. But it has to work the same and you’ll heal faster than humans. I’m going to slice along your arm and hold it pointing to the ground while your grace drains into a bowl. You’ve explained the magick of making a grace stone and once we’ve done this I’ll do a small one as a test. I won’t take more than I need.” Zav: Take /more/ than you think you’ll need. I’ll recover faster than if you have to cut me twice. And if you have extra make grace stones for you, Sean and Adrian, too. You won’t be able to handle as much as Sin, but a little in a stone will make you faster and sharpen your senses. –shrugging— It can’t hurt. If we had the time I’d ask you to put some in the protection bracelet you’re making for the fighters, but we don’t. So instead I’m going to add a few drops to the ink when I do the protection tats. Bryn: Frowning down at him as I stretch his arm out on the chair’s armrest. “Just don’t be a hero, ok? Your grace will regenerate but we don’t need you down for days. Let me know when to stop.” He nods in agreement, but I’ve known this guy too long. I’ll have to watch the cues. Taking the athame in hand, I draw it vertically along his arm, laying open the radial artery. I’d never take this risk with a human, no matter how powerful. They’d bleed out too fast. I’d have gone for the cephalic vein. Slower flowing and quicker clotting. But I was counting on reaper healing to make sure that didn’t happen to Zav. Shimmering blue liquid began to flow and I quickly move his arm off the chair’s armrest and squat on the floor holding it over a deep bowl. It runs down his arm and over his fingers in a stream. “You doing all right up there Romeo?” Zav: --I grunted as she made a long deep slice in my forearm. It’s funny how that same injury in the heat of battle is numb but sitting here, knowing what she’s going to do, it hurts like a bitch. – I’m fine. Let it flow little witch. You’re just sad because it isn’t real blood. Bryn: “Ok, I take that as an insult. And it’s never a good idea to insult the lady with the knife.” The truth is, I /have/ done blood magick before. It’s ancient and powerful and the more powerful the subject, the stronger the magick and the less you needed. Which is why I usually used my own, but there had been times when I’d needed volunteer donors. And I always used volunteers only. Anybody that has to kill somebody to get enough blood for the spell is either an amature or not using powerful enough blood. Shifter’s were good, as were vampires, other mages, fae and phoenix. All those beings’ blood had earth magick that blended nicely with my own. Zav’s grace, though, is a different story. Grace is empyreal, coming from the Creator of both the divine and the earth. He’d made empyreal magick and earth magick each unique in their powers, and they weren’t made to mesh. That’s why the white god had gone apeshit when the Gregori had fallen in love with humans and chosen to have children with them. The children had grace, yes, but they also had a soul and the soul is at the essence of earth magick. If one of those chosen by the Grigori had been a being of power, their children would have been a threat to the white god’s view of himself as top of the heap. So he’d had them killed. All of them. Grigori, their human mates, children, infants, babes in the womb...it hadn’t mattered so long as it was bloody and violent and sent the message to other angels what happened when you broke the white god’s rules. Not that I’d been around to see this, mind you. But Sin had, and he’d shown it to us when he formed our cadre so we would understand how dangerous an enemy the white god was. And –frowning at this thought,- once I completed the grace stone Sin was going to use it combined with his own human soul and reaper magick to bring down the Horseman. It was going to make him very, very powerful. I’ve got to wonder if that isn’t going to draw some unwelcome attention, but –mentally sighing- one disaster at a time. Zav: --snorting a laugh – You’d never hurt me. You love me and you know it. --As the iridescent blue fluid begins to flow my I turn my mind back to Truely, trying to ignore the sensation of my grace flowing down my arm. It isn’t the same as a mortal’s perception of blood flowing on their skin would be. Blood is warm and sticky, but grace is cool and slick. Everywhere it touches it tingles like sparks flaring. It was the raw magick in it, the power, the essence of life. And I can feel that essence seeping out of me. It’s like I’m falling backwards into a black velvet night. Fighting against the darkness, I twist my head to look down at her and force a cocky note in my voice— We about done here? I got a woman I need to call. Bryn: The deep bowl is nearly half full, with what I estimate is at least 2 pints. In a human I’d have stopped well before this, but I needed everything Zav could give for this to work. Glancing up at his question, I start to pop off a smartass response, but I pause. The skin under his tan is pale and he has sweat beading on his upper lip. He should have said something, dammit. His body is smarter than he is, though. The slice on his arm is already closing up on the ends, the flow of grace slowing naturally. “I think we’re done here, Romeo.” Standing, I reach my hand out and call the gauze from his counter to me. Lifting his arm, I lay it on the chair armrest and bind the wound to stop the ooze. “Gotta love reaper physiology. In a few hours that will be healed and, so long as you don’t head to the coast for an ocean dip, you won’t even have a scar.” Zav: --Swinging my legs over the edge of the reclined chair, I sit up. And almost immediately grab the edges of it as the world sways.— Bryn: “Hey, watch it big guy!” Grabbing his arm to steady him... “I really don’t think you want me to tell Sean and Adrian that you broke your nose falling on your face after losing a little grace. They’d never let you live it down. C’mon, lay back down in the chair for a while.” Carefully easing him back down on the reclined tattoo chair. Zav: --muttering as I ease back onto the chair— Fuck it. Hand my the phone in my backpack, will you? Bryn: Sighing, I grab his backpack from the floor beside his counter and rummage through the pockets until I find his cellphone. Turning back to him, I hold it up in the air. “You get this on one condition. You don’t try to leave that chair for the next two hours and if you need anything, you don’t try to materialize it yourself. You ask. I need you to be up and alert when I start on the grace stone. You taught me the magick, but I want you there if I need back up. And don’t worry, it doesn’t hold anything up. I’ll do the wards and start on the bracelets to the protect our forces from the trap. I just need you to send me the warding against angels and reapers. Demons are done already.” Zav: --raising my head in a mock glare — Tyrant. Give a person a little power and next thing you know they’re telling you what to do. -- with a sigh, I rest my head back on the padded head rest. The truth is, I probably couldn’t walk six feet right now, let alone swing a sword, so her plan’s good. Mentally I open to here and visualize the symbols in the order she’ll need them.-- Everywhere but the main doorway. I noticed there’s a place for a bar on the inside of the double doors that can be used to barricade the doors. The church must have initially served as a last ditch sanctuary against indigenous peoples when the land was being colonized and the brackets were left when the church was turned into a ballroom. Find the bar and put them on it. That way we can bar the door while we’re working and not have to be on high alert all the time. Now give me the damned phone. Bryn: Leave it to Zav to come up with that. After he’d become a reaper, the only way he’d really used his angel’s magick was to protect. He’d become an expert in defensive protocols using empyreal magicks and he’d studied strategy. Definitely our cadre’s go-to guy for this. The images he sends to me mentally are slender, and some are intricately drawn, but I’ve got an ediectic memory so I’m good to go. “Got it.” Zav: Leave no more than an arm’s span between them and repeat them in a line around the walls, on the ceiling and on the floor. And Bryn?” -- Lifting my head to look at her with a grin, because I’m about to get some of my own back.— It needs to be in blood. --laughing as she gives me a death stare and easily catching the phone she throws at my head.— Bryn: “FINE!” Zav: --Smirking as she walks off to take care of it, I settle back on the chair and Google “Truly Good Sweet Treats” in Pascoe on my phone, only to have it correct me on the spelling. Even though Sin’s pretty dismissive of technology, I’m grateful to it at the moment. The correct spelling of her name, Truely Goode, would have taken me a few minutes to puzzle out. Google had a website for Truely Goode Sweet Treats, and hallelujah, the website had a phone number! I punch it in and take a deep breath as it rings.— Hello? Can I speak to Truely, please?

[sickenedfiction]

19&21 for a male OC of your choice from the angst/fluff list!

19 - “How are you feeling today?”21 - “We’ll figure this out.”(Atlas and Michelle are childhood friends and haven’t had a proper fic together so I’ll use them. Also this is old and I’m sorry.)

Michelle felt her phone buzz with another text from Cyrus. He didn’t like that she was spending so much time with Atlas, worried that he would try to put the moves on her. But Michelle knew Atlas and he would never try to hit on her. Besides, she’d told him three times that he had been sick lately and she wanted to be sure he was doing okay.

She’d known Atlas years and years ago, the two having been next door neighbors when they were young. He’d moved away at the end of 9th grade and she hadn’t seen him again until moving to the city. 

Fate had brought her and him together again. He’s changed his name from Gregory to Atlas, sure, but that didn’t change the fact he was like the brother she never had. 

Not to mention she’d met up with him again after hooking up with Cyrus for a few dates and deciding to go steady, so it wasn’t as if she was suddenly going to change her mind

She’d heard from Atlas a few days prior that he was coming down with something and might have to cancel their plans. The two went to lunch every now and again which wasn’t nearly as often as Cyrus made it out to be. It was once a month at most so she figured she’d have to have a talk with Cyrus about being too possessive.

Still, she would be lying that she wasn’t a little bit flattered that he worried for her. Plus it wasn’t to a dangerous degree or anything. Regardless, the next day Atlas called to sat that it had already gotten pretty bad and he needed to cancel their plans. She offered to stop by but he insisted that she didn’t, knowing hoe easily she picked up illnesses.

That was another reason Cyrus was worried about her going and that was something she couldn’t really blame him for.

Actually she sort of worried for the inevitable day that she’d get so sick she’d have to be hospitalized. That happened every once in a blue moon with her and she didn’t want Cyrus to see her like that.

Michelle was going to concede and just give him well wishes so he’d feel better when she heard he had a fever of 102.

She was not standing for that.

After telling him to take some medicine and lay down with a cold washcloth, she told him she was coming over the next day with some soup. No if, ands, or butts about it. She’d be in and out but she had to do something, knowing that he probably didn’t have anything suitable to eat while sick.Sure soup was cliche and she didn’t have any made but it worked and didn’t take long to prepare.

Cyrus didn’t quite understand why she was making soup so late in the day for Atlas. He wouldn’t have expected her to maker him soup when sick... then again he knew that she would have anyways. Still, it was Atlas, not him. 

Michelle would have to make him realize that Atlas was just as important to her as Cyrus was. Just in different ways. 

It was like him and Vanessa. Cyrus could insist he didn’t think about Vanessa all he wanted but she knew that he did and Michelle never once got upset with him for it. Vanessa was her friend too and she would be doing this for her as well if the lilac haired girl ever opened up about feeling sick to her.

Soup in hand, Michelle let herself in per Atlas telling her she could just walk inside. 

She found Atlas snoring on the couch, having fallen asleep while waiting for her. Seeing a trash can next to the couch worried her but she realized that it was just full of tissues, many of them having missed the rim. So he wasn’t that sick. Good.

The container of soup was set down on the kitchen counter, and using a paper towel, she picked up the tissues that hadn’t made it into the trash can. Next to her, Atlas turned over in his sleep and coughed harshly into the back of the cough. A wet, hacking sound.

Yikes. He definitely was still pretty sick.

Not wanting to wake him just yet, she put some soup in a bowl and put it in the microwave to heat up. In the mean time, she found the washcloth he’d been using as a cold compress on the floor by the couch as well and picked it up. Quietly, she ran it under icy cold water before returning it to his forehead just in time for the microwave finish. 

Atlas groaned at the offending chill and swatted at Michelle’s hands. “I know it’s cold but you need to keep it there.” She said to him despite his still being asleep. To fix that, she shook his shoulder carefully. “Wake up, Sleeping Beauty. I brought you soup.” 

He moaned and Michelle sighed, shaking him a little harder. “Come on, now. You’ll feel better.” 

“Fine fine.” Atlas sat up, his sweaty hair falling in his face. Michelle moved the washcloth to the back of his neck, sending chills down his spine. He shivered and made a face.

“The soup will help with that.” Michelle replied, going back to the kitchen to grab the bowl. She’d brought a ladle with her but not a spoon so while she looked through the drawers to find the silverware, she asked, “how are you feeling today?”

“No better, no worse. Still crummy and gross.” To prove it, he sneezed loudly into the sleeve of his shirt. “Shit, shit.” His node started to run and he quickly reached for the tissues, barely getting one to his nose before snot dripped all over him. He’d already had to change out of one shirt due to sneezing suddenly all over his sleeve. 

Michelle heard him blowing his nose as she found a spoon for the soup. “Geez, that does sound pretty bad. Your cough is way worse though. Maybe you should see a doctor?” She told him before carefully walking the bowl of soup out to him.

“It’s not that bad, I don’t think.”

She set the soup down in front of him. “If your fever climbs at all, you should. 102 is bad enough.”

“103.”

“103?!”

“Yeah. It was 103.4 this morning. I think it’s gone down though. I don’t feel nearly as bad.”

Michelle sighed. “Atlas, that isn’t good. What am I going to do with you?”

“If I had a dime for every time I heard that one.”

“Oh, stop.”

“It’s true... though, I will admit. It was kinda scary seeing my fever was that high. I know you’ve had worse though.”

“It’s alright, we’ll figure this out.” Michelle said, offering a smile. “Where is your thermometer?”

Atlas gestured to the table and Michelle went to pick it up when Atlas reached for it instead. “I got it. It’s probably all germ infested.” Michelle huffed at that but let him do it himself.

“102.7. See? It’s going down.”

“Hmmm... I guess. Eat your soup, that’ll help. Have you taken any more medicine?”

“This morning after I took my temperature.” Atlas replied before starting on the soup. “Hey, this is good stuff. You made this from scratch?”

“Yep. You learn a few things when you’re bedridden despite not going anywhere.”

“... Sorry. You should probably get out of here soon.” Atlas head, hanging his head a little.

“It’s okay, that wasn’t meant to make you feel bad. It was just a fact of life for me. No harm done.”

“Still, it sucks that you had to go through that so often.”

“It was, but you’re the only friend who ever visited me. Let me help you this time like you always did for me. Besides, if I get sick, I have Cyrus to take care of me.” She smiled and laughed at that.

“True, I bet he was thrilled to find out you made soup for me and not him, huh?”

“Very. But he’s not sick. He’ll get soup when he gets sick.”

“Right on.” He went to have another spoonful of soup when a bout of coughing over took him. His chest rattled with each cough and Michellewas quick to pat his back to try and help.

“You okay? You should take some more medicine after eating, you’re due for another dose.”

“Yes, mom.”

Michelle smiled. “Now if I had a dime for every time I’ve heard that one.”

[starsandmaple]

Dances and Drafts, Chapter 3 - Come With Me

Synopsis:

It is 1977 and the Triwizard Tournament has come to Hogwarts. As the school prepares for its first Yule Ball in two-hundred years, Lily Evans finds herself completely put off going thanks to a certain toerag, and Severus Snape too shy to even consider attending. Can a cunning plan change that?

Notes:

I do not own these characters or anything deriving from the Harry Potter universe. All of that comes from the lovely J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros. Insert obligatory joke about being broke.

Come With Me

The following day, Lily had decided to start trying to brew some of the potions from Slughorn’s book. She had spent the last day researching the recipes and some of the ingredients, and bar a few which required special herbs to be tended for a full moon cycle, she had made a note of a few that could be made using ingredients from Slughorn’s cabinet, which he had told her she could have full reign over for the winter break.

She was awake much earlier than a lot of the students were on their holiday, making it out of the Gryffindor common room at 10am, leaving most of her fellow cohort snoring in their beds. She wandered through the castle without running into anyone at all. Students and faculty alike were obviously making use of their holidays and Lily was glad for the peaceful walk. When she turned the corner just before the potions room, a faint smell hit her nose. Upon further approach towards the classroom, she noticed that the door was ajar.

Someone is already in there.

Lily furrowed her eyebrows. Slughorn had told her that the classroom was for her own use over the break, so no one else should be in there. She gently pushed the door and stepped inside the classroom.

She stopped in the threshold and took a sharp intake of breath.

Severus was there, concentrating very hard on the potion her was brewing; the steam from the cauldron had dampened his long black hair, which he would push back every few seconds as it fell around his face and in front of his eyes. His robes and blazer were hung gracefully over the back of the chair to his right, leaving Severus in his white collared shirt - the sleeves of which he had rolled up to the top of his arms - and a slightly loosened green and silver tie.

Ingredients were scattered across the table and a single book lay open in front of him. By the looks of things he had been there for hours.

Lily shook herself slightly, not realizing that she had been staring for a while. She was glad to note that Severus hadn’t appeared to have spotted her either because of how focused he was on the potion he was brewing.

He didn’t even notice me come in, Lily smiled to herself.

“Good morning Sev,” Lily smiled and walked further into the room.

Severus jumped slightly at the sound of her voice, his eyes widened in surprise.

“Lily! What are you doing here? I-I mean good morning, but…” he trailed off and started to relax a little after the initial shock of her sudden greeting. Lily walked towards him and stepped behind the bench he was working at.

“Slughorn gave me a project to work on over the break, I was researching some of the potions yesterday and figured I’d have a go at some of the recipes this morning,” she brought the book out of her bag and held it in her arm.

Severus paused for a second and narrowed his eyes.

“Mind if I take a look?” he eyed the book and extended an arm. Lily complied, gracefully handing the book over to him.

Severus flipped the old book over, it didn’t take him more than a second to let out a barely audible groan as he closed his eyes tightly and handed the book back to Lily, who cocked her head to the side quizzically. Severus sighed.

That sneaky little-

“Everything okay Sev?” Lily looked a little concerned.

“Y-yes,” he said, picking up his own potions book and handing it to Lily for her to examine.

“Oh!” she said, slightly surprised, “It’s the same…” Lily was now holding two identical copies of Gregory the Smarmy’s potions book which she held up side by side for comparison.

“Slughorn must have found two copies of the same extremely rare book,” Severus said flatly.

Though, more likely he made a very convincing copy himself, Severus thought to himself and he began to turn a little bit red.

Lily smiled.

“Well in any case, this is great!” she said cheerfully, Severus looked at her slightly taken a back, “We can work through the book together now,” she smiled widely at him and he couldn’t help return it.

Lily took the space next to him and removed the blue cardigan she was wearing, placed it on top of Severus’s uniform and rolled up the sleeves of her white t-shirt. As Lily regarded Severus’s discarded uniform she frowned slightly, and thought to herself.

Of course he would rather wear this than his own clothes, even on holiday.

Shaking the thought and what it implied out of her head she sat down on the high chair and looked at what Severus was working on.

“I already worked through the first two potions from the book, the third is impossible to complete at present because we need stewed lacewing flies so I have moved on to the fourth,” he paused for a second “though I am having some trouble making out what this says,” Severus pointed to a line in his book which had faded, “here it looks like it says 2 cups but it could just as easily be ½ a cup and that is too big a difference to just guess.”

Lily opened her own book to the fourth recipe and dragged her finger along to page to the line Severus was reading from.

“Definitely half a cup, my copy is much clearer, see?” she leant over to Severus, indicating to the line in question.

She suddenly felt Severus breathe in sharply and she noticed how close they were; leaning over to him and brought their shoulders together, and the way that Lily’s head was positioned brought her face close to his own. Her heart jumped a little at the sound of his gasp and she felt hot, though she figured the sudden rise in temperature was simply due to the heat from the bubbling cauldron next to her.

“Ummm, yes so half a cup of basilisk venom poured in quickly and stirred…”

Severus and Lily followed the recipe until its conclusion, then moving on to the next one and the one after that until they had lost track of time. Lily’s rumbling stomach finally alerted them to the fact that they had long missed lunch.

“Oh wow, it’s already 3:30!” Lily gasped as she caught sight of the time on the old clock by Slughorn’s desk at the end of the room, “we’ve missed lunch,” Lily smiled, her hair was now also slightly dampened from the steam of the cauldron, her cheeks pink from the heat.

She looks breath-taking, Severus thought.

“Are you hungry?” he asked, Lily’s stomach rumbled again in response and they both laughed a little.

“I should probably go and see if there’s anything left in the great hall from lunch,” she said, though they both knew how unlikely that was.

“Why don’t we call it a day, we’ve made a lot of great progress,” Severus admired their handy work; four bottles of completed potion now sat on the table behind their cauldron. Lily gave him a look of pride in what they had accomplished.

“All right, we better clear this up then,” Lily waved her wand and the various ingredients levitated back into their rightful places inside Slughorn’s cabinet, the cauldron’s flame went out and the smoke was cleared from the room.

Lily went to put her personal belongings back in her bag before reaching for her cardigan, which was no longer on the back of the chair where she had left it. Puzzled, she looked up.

“Have you seen my –“

To her surprise, Severus was already holding out her cardigan for her, open and waiting for her to step into it. His gaze was averted and his cheeks slightly pink, something which easily could have resulted from the hours of brewing they had just done, or something else.

Lily parted her lips slightly and then smiled at him softly.

“Oh, thanks Sev,” she placed her bag on the chair and turned her back to him, holding out her arms as he pulled the cardigan over them and onto her shoulders. It wasn’t the smoothest motion, the cardigan got stuck on the bunched up fabric of Lily’s t-shirt for a brief moment and Severus had to quickly smooth it before pulling the cardigan up the rest of the way. He stepped in close and let his hands linger on her shoulders for a second longer, his heart racing and his breath quickening as he did so.

He had missed his chance to help her yesterday, he wasn’t going to hesitate a second time.

Severus was very aware that they had less than a year left together like this before school finished for good. Internally, he was battling with this thought and the fact that he lacked the courage to ever do anything to make his feelings known. He was scared of what he could lose, the ability to be with Lily like this, as friends. He had just about convinced himself that that was all he could possibly hope for.

But he knew he would regret it for the rest of his life if he didn’t try. And if that idiot Potter had the guts to ask Lily out every single day then Severus knew he couldn’t let Potter best him.

Severus stepped back and Lily turned towards him.

They were still close, though not as close as they had been before.

“L-Lily, I’ve been thinking…” for once he found himself unable to look into those beautiful green eyes, he was shifting his weight from foot to foot anxiously.

“What’s that Sev, are you okay?” Lily looked concerned.

“Y-yes I’m fine!” Sev reassured her. He took a breath and wrapped his arms around himself.

“I was just wondering…” he paused.

“Yea?”

“I-if you might want to…” he was struggling to form words, Lily was still looking at him, a look of bewilderment on her face.

“Ummm…” Severus took another, deeper breath, sighing as he exhaled.

“Uh, go ahead without me, t-there’s something I wanted to check out,”

He couldn’t do it.

“Oh, er…” Lily paused and smiled at him “Yea sure, I’ll see you later?”

“Yea, see you tomorrow,” Severus watched Lily leave the room and waited until he was sure she was gone before he let out a large, frustrated sigh and slumped onto the chair, pressing his forehead into the table in front of him.

“Hey Lily,” he said to himself in a mocking voice.

“I was wondering if you wanted to go to the ball with me.”

[jamesjohneye]

Prompts request #3

For @canoncannon , who once made me clap my hands and laugh out loud because she'd commented on my fic. One of my favorite authors.

Prompt: Jesus + Dare kissing him.

Title: Mortified

It’s easy enough to get out of his make-shift prison, easier still to break into the armory and check it out. The amount of weapons there makes his head spin. Rows and rows of automatic guns, a crate with grenades and boxes filled with bullets. There are radio’s, flashlights and flare guns, two crossbows, various knifes and machete’s. Batteries are charging in a corner, there’s a barrel filled with bolts.

He takes one out and twirls it around. It looks handmade.

With a small frown, Paul quietly slips out of the house again, heading to his next destination. The door to the garage rattles a bit when he pulls it up but he rolls under it and Alexandria sleeps on. Moonlight falls through the small windows, just enough to allow him to see the various shelves. Almost all are empty.

They’re running low on food, Paul realizes. It makes them less interesting as a trading partner for now but he knows that everything can change. Maybe their harvest will be spoiled, maybe the kingdom won’t be able to deliver, maybe these people hit a goldmine somewhere down the line. Or maybe Hilltop will need those weapons after all, if Gregory ever changes his mind.

Allies are more important now than ever.

He thinks about Rick Grimes, who had bound his hands together and had left him on the side of the road. Anyone else would have needed a couple of minutes working on those ropes, but they would have gotten away eventually. He hadn’t left him to die. Of course the ropes had been loose the second Rick had walked back to the truck, but that’s not the point.

He thinks about the boy, too. Daryl, who thinks he might be fifteen but isn’t sure. Strong and capable, obviously used to being Rick’s right hand man in tight situations. His youth had only showed when he’d mourned his smashed soda cans. He’d said it had been a request but Paul couldn’t be sure he had been telling the truth. He’d left him with a broken, half-empty can though. In case he got thirsty.

They hadn’t killed him. Hadn’t robbed him of his knives, leaving him defenseless with the dead. They hadn’t left him to die out there.

Paul wonders what the world has become that just that fact makes people good.

It’s time to find Rick Grimes. They should talk.

    He only knows that he’s in the right house when he picks the lock of a bedroom door, steps inside and spots the shadowy figure of Daryl on the bed. The boy is asleep, face turned towards the window, wild hair covering most of it. His mouth is slightly open, slack with relaxation. One of his hands is resting on the softness of his belly, fingertips dipping below his waistband of his jeans. The other hand is next to him on the pillow, fingers twitching in his sleep.

He’s still wearing his boots and belt. The large knife is almost hidden in the darkness, save for the soft gleam whenever the boy moves his hips.

Paul glances around the room.

There’s a faint smell of cigarettes lingering in the air.

His gaze falls on the magazine on the end of Daryl’s bed.

He turns around with a slight smirk playing around his lips and shakes his head a little as he moves towards the next room. Teenagers, he thinks. Some things never change.

    There is something utterly fascinating about Daryl Dixon, Paul decides when they pile back into the RV. Not even fifteen years old but fearless and determined. Sure of himself as he’d led his group from the wreckage to the right building where the people from Hilltop had been hiding. Grim determination in his eyes when he’d drawn his knife and taken his spot right behind Glenn.

When they’d first met, Paul had thought that the boy was Rick’s. Their easy banter and way of working together reminded him of family ties. The matching blue eyes turned out to just be coincidence. Of course he belongs to the man’s group, his family, but Paul smiles when he sees the boy with Maggie and Glenn.

The way Maggie will absent-mindedly adjust the backwards baseball cap while the boy eats his disgusting oatmeal cookie, or lick her finger before rubbing some dirt off his cheek. The boy barely notices even though he still looks a bit wary when Abraham claps him on the shoulder.

It’s even easier to see with Glenn. Their conversation flows easily, sometimes silently with glances and smirk and quirked eyebrows which will leave Daryl giggling silently while Glenn shakes his head fondly. Or the way Glenn nods at Maggie before they head into the building, a silent promise to look after their boy.

And Daryl did the same thing, having the man’s back.

They came out of the building, knives dripping with blood. Daryl had burst through the door first, a big grin on his face as he vaulted a small cabinet and looked up at the sun, soaking up its warmth. The rest had followed suit.

Less than ten minutes and the building had been cleared. When Paul had gone over to thank the teenager, he’d shrugged it off. There had only been ten walkers inside, no big deal.

He’d missed the look of pride Rick shot him as he trudged back to Maggie’s side.

And now he’s sitting with his family again, next to Maggie while talking animated about something. Blue eyes sparkling, the horror of dark building and walkers already forgotten.

The boy is tough and soft at the same time, Paul thinks. He’s fearless in the face of walkers but still ducks his head shyly when Harlan thanks him. The youthful innocence still lingering in his bones. It shines brightly when Daryl doesn’t understand a word and kicks Glenn’s boot to demand an explanation.

The fact that Glenn doesn’t need to ask what he wants makes Paul smile.

    It doesn’t take long before Paul sees Daryl in action himself.

One moment the boy’s eyes light up when he gushes about the fact that Hilltop has a cow, and the next moment he twists someone’s arm hard enough to break it. The eyes are dark and cold when he hears the bone snap and the guy scream in agony.

He doesn’t seem horrified when Rick slashes Ethan’s throat, or when his leader stands up, covered in blood to look around and check on his family. He just draws his gun and puts his foot on the man’s chest, mindful not to touch the broken arm but still pointing the weapon at his face.

When the situation is under control, the boy helps Abraham to his feet again.

‘You’re one tough son of a bitch, you know that? Thanks, kid,’ the burly man says as they clasp hands.

‘Ain’t no kid,’ Daryl counters.

And Paul fears he might be right.

    The process of creating a partnership with Alexandria is hard and Gregory is not making things easier at the moment.

Paul slowly walks up the staircase of Barrington House, one hand trailing over the banister. It’s been a long day. There’s so much going on at the moment. Rick’s new group and Gregory’s injury, their missing man who has been taking hostage, and Negan himself looming in the background. There are whispers about Gregory’s leadership he needs to address with his own people. There are people asking him about the runs, about the next shipment, about chores and tasks and everything else.

He needs some time to figure it all out.

So he heads up the staircase and then up another and another until he reaches the attic.

He’s surprised to find someone else sitting on his spot. Daryl Dixon, with his boots on the railing, sketchbook in his lap and pencil clenched between his teeth. The dark hair is kept out of his face by the backwards cap, faded due to the sun and almost black in the faint starlight. He’s doodling, rubbing his finger over the page to smudge a line, feet wobbling a bit to a tune that isn’t playing.

Fifteen, Paul marvels again because he can’t quite wrap his head around it. Not when he’s seen the boy break someone’s arm like it was nothing just a couple of hours ago.

A part of him wants to leave. The boy seems to be drowned in thought and Paul suspects he came up here for the same reason he has; for some peace and quiet. But he can’t help but be intrigued. He tells himself that he needs to get to know this new group better, that that is why he searches for something to say now.

He settles on something he has already figured out, curious about how much the boy will tell him himself.

‘So you’re Glenn’s,’ Paul says as he steps into the light of the moon and stars.

Daryl glances up warily. His eyes are small, little slits now that has narrowed them suspiciously. The shoulders are broad but curled in a little bit, his posture atrocious as he hunches over his sketchbook.

‘I didn’t know what to think when Maggie asked me for some paper and a pencil,’ Paul offers with a smile, trying to come across as friendly and harmless to soothe the boy’s nerves. ‘You like to draw?’

‘Yeah. Thanks.’ He looks down at his drawing and adds a detail in the right corner.

Curiosity drives Paul closer. He wants to see what the boy is drawing but doesn’t want to ask. So he sits down next to him, carefully watching his facial expression for any signs of hostility or even fear. There is none. The boy doesn’t look at him but keeps working on his drawing. He holds the pencil wrong but that doesn’t stop him from drawing fluid lines on the paper.

‘When I first saw you, I thought you were Rick’s,’ Paul says when he sits down. It’s true, of course, but the answer he gets surprises him.

‘Ain’t nobody’s no more.’

Unease creeps into Paul’s spine, making him grip the railing a little tighter. He’s not sure why that is. ‘Did something happen between you and Glenn?’

Daryl scoffs. ‘No. I just ain’t his, a’right? I’m a Dixon, just…. I’m a Dixon, not a Rhee, or Grimes or Ford or… not a Walsh, even. A Dixon.’

‘Abraham said you had a brother,’ he recalls. One that is old enough to drive, the man had joked. The other Dixon, so Paul guesses that it’s just the two of them now.

‘Yeah,’ Daryl looks down at his drawing, letting his pencil tap against the paper.

‘Blood matters, right?’ He hates himself a little for the stereotype the boy conjures in his mind, but the teenager seems to come from a family where those things still had great value. ‘You’re both Dixon’s, so…’

‘We always say that, right?’ Daryl bites out bitterly. ‘The most important thing; blood. But then shit happens and they know things and suddenly it doesn’t matter at all and you’re just… not, anymore.’

‘I’m not sure I understand,’ Paul says softly.

‘Pretty soon I won’t be a Dixon at all, I think. Just Daryl,’ he lets the pencil drag over the paper, creating a stark, jagged line over his drawing. ‘It don’t matter,’ he wipes his hair out of his face and glares at the stars, and then at Paul. ‘Stop stickin’ your nose in. Ain’t nothing to you.’

He still doesn’t understand but decides not to push the matter. There’s anxiety practically radiating from the teenager and Paul hates the way his mouth turns into a thin stripe as he presses his lips together. It almost makes him want to reach out and put a hand on his shoulder, telling him that whatever it is, it’ll be okay.

For a second he thinks about calling Glenn or Maggie up but he disregards that thought too.

‘Do you want me to leave?’ he asks instead.

‘No.’

The answer is short but said without hesitation. Paul is glad. He likes being up here and tells the boy why. To escape from everyone who wants something from him, to just have a moment to think. He’s always been that way. As much as he loves parties and dinners and get-togethers with his friends, he used to love spending time on his own, too. Just a couple of hours to recharge and be able to pull that smile off without looking like he is faking it.

It’s surprisingly easy to talk to Daryl. He listens, sharp eyes trained on him even though he doesn’t quite meet his eye. There’s shyness in the way his gaze flickers over his face before landing on his shoulder.

‘Why’d you do it then?’ he asks when Paul tells him that he was never really into all the social obligations.

‘Peer pressure,’ the scout shrugs. ‘Believe it or not; I’m actually very easy to like.’ He flashes the teenager a grin.

‘When you’re not stealing someone’s stuff.’

The spark of humor and teasing surprises Paul. He huffs out a breath of laughter as he watches how Daryl ducks his head shyly again. There’s a blush creeping up his neck and cheeks.

They talk about Paul’s fear of ending up alone but longing to be out there, without all these people wanting something from him. About the freedom that can’t be had inside walls like these.

‘I get it,’ Daryl says and Paul doesn’t doubt him.

A quiet ‘yeah?’ get him talking, too. About a place they used to have, different from Alexandria and with lots of people. He’s vague about something he’d done to give him the reputation of being wild. Paul wonders whether it was really something Daryl had done. The boy practically oozes the wild, from his clothes to his body language, to the ease with which he moves. He’s graceful, light on his feet but strong.

Paul frowns when Daryl mentions that people had known his dad, that that hadn’t helped his reputation. But the reputation hadn’t caused people to leave him alone. They had wanted to talk to him, to get him to teach them things. Paul smiles when Daryl says that he used to explode into fits of anger every five seconds.

‘Shane let me hunt on my own. That helped,’ the teenager says softly before he gnaws on the back of his pencil just to have something to do. ‘Taught me how to politely tell them to fuck off, too, so…’ he trails off.

Paul laughs. ‘That helped, too?’ he guesses and gently knocks their shoulders together to show that he’s just teasing. Then he twists around to check on the gates before turning back to the boy. ‘Who is Shane?’

He hopes it’s the brother because there’s fondness in the way Daryl says his name.

‘Was,’ Daryl corrects and Paul closes his eyes briefly, cursing himself. ‘He was my friend, took care of me. He was Rick’s partner on the force, before.’

‘I’m sorry you lost him,’ Paul says. ‘I didn’t mean to…. I’m just trying to figure your group out.’

There’s not much to figure out, Daryl tells him and for a moment Paul thinks that he’s crossed the line. That he really is sticking his nose in this time, but the boy doesn’t seem to mind right now. He was twelve when it all started. Paul feels a little sick. He knows some kids survived of course but he can’t imagine having to grow up in this world, with a childhood marred by the world ending.

He eyes Daryl. It’s made for some tough kids, that’s for sure.

Shane took him in, looked after him, and then they found Rick, Maggie, Michonne, all the others.

‘Now I’m just… everybody’s,’ Daryl says with a small shrug. ‘Nobody’s.’

Paul gives him a hesitant smile. ‘What about Glenn? You seem pretty close.’

The teenager snorts. ‘Was the first person of that group I met. My dad, ya know, didn’t like him much.’ He looks away, almost as if he’s ashamed of it. ‘Glenn bein’ a chink and all.’

Paul keep his expression neutral despite the slur. ‘But you liked him?’

‘He gave me an oreo.’

The answer is so unexpected and childish that it makes Paul laugh. The shy grin Daryl shoots him causes fondness to swell in his chest. The blush is back too, and Paul realizes that the teenager feels a sense of pride at being able to make him laugh. It makes him want to reach out and ruffle the dark hair despite the cap being in the way but he knows he’s still too much of a stranger to do it, regardless of the heart-to-heart they’re having.

‘So that’s the way to your heart, huh? Chocolate.’

‘Yeah,’ the teenager smirks. ‘I were in the middle of eatin’ some when you went stomping around on the roof of that truck. It went down with it. ‘s why I hate you.’

‘You don’t hate me,’ Paul grins as he knocks their shoulders together again.

‘Nah,’ Daryl admits. ‘You’re all right.’

‘High praise indeed,’ he teases before leaning closer and reaching out to push one of Daryl’s hands off the sketchbook in his lap so he can look at the drawing. The page is covered with flowers. Black and white and gray but so vivid that they might as well have been in color. There are vines snaking up and down, curling around pedals and pushing leaves aside. Thorns shine dangerously in the patches of light. ‘Talking about high praise,’ Paul says with a smile, ‘this is really good. Beautiful. I should get you some colored pencils as well.’

Daryl hums and shrugs.

Paul thinks about where he might find them. Someone must have a set here, stuffed into a drawer, dusty from disuse. It doesn’t surprise him that the teenager doesn’t ask for them, or urge him to find some for him. A child of the apocalypse; grateful for just food and water and with no real need for nice things that don’t help with their survival.

He’ll find some for him, Paul decides as he looks at the page. He can’t wait to see what he can do with them.

‘Shame about this,’ he runs his finger over the jagged line in the middle, one he’d drawn out of frustration and anger earlier.

Daryl says he can cover it up but then dismisses the whole thing as being something stupid, just something he likes to do. ‘I do other shit now,’ he says. ‘I hunt! Build traps, too. I used to drive a motorcycle.’

‘Really?’ Paul asks because he can’t quite picture it. The boy is small for his age, but he’s already shown his strength and doesn’t seem to be a liar. There’s teenager eagerness in the way he talks now, so eager to prove that he’s older, strong and capable.

He built it in Aaron’s garage by himself but someone stole it from him.

‘Shame,’ Paul murmurs. He wonders whether it were the Saviors but doesn’t press. ‘Can I have it?’

Daryl frowns at him.

‘The sketch,’ Paul clarifies. ‘I’d like to have it.’

He can, but he should wait until Daryl has covered up the ugly mark. Paul agrees and watches how he blends the line a little, turning it into the stem of another flower, one without thorns but with strange leaves. He works quietly and not as quickly as before. In the end, he’s just fussing around with little details until the blush deepens again and he says ‘okay,’ before ripping the page out. ‘Here.’

Paul takes it. ‘Thank you, Daryl,’ the full name sounds almost too formal and Paul gets why everyone calls him Dare. It’s a nickname he hasn’t shared with him yet, though and Paul wonders whether it’s just a family thing. ‘It really is beautiful.’

‘They’re poisonous.’

Paul lifts an eyebrow, ‘they’re real flowers?’

‘Hmm-hmm,’ Daryl swings his legs nervously. ‘They used to grow in the forest behind our trail- home. Our home,’ he says.

Paul notices the quick cover up. Trailer. He used to live in a trailer park.

Puzzle pieces start to fall together.

None of that matters anymore.

‘So it’s a self-portrait in a way, then. An origin story,’ Paul smiles as he smooths the paper out once more before leaning forward on his knees, eyes on the stars again. ‘Thank you,’ he adds but he’s not just talking about the sketch.

‘You’re welcome,’ Daryl nods as he swings his legs again.

Paul thinks about all the boy has said. About his dad who had had a bad reputation, how he hadn’t liked Glenn for being a chink. But still, the boy had liked the man because he’d shared a cookie with him. How he’d casually mentioned that he’d worked in Aaron’s garage. Maybe they’re friends too, Paul muses. He knows that Rick’s group was together before they got to Alexandria, that they had survived together all this time. Ties of family forged among death and desperation.

Suddenly Daryl leans closer.

Paul has barely time to react before he feels dry lips on his cheek. A quick kiss and-

More puzzle pieces sliding together.

‘Ah,’ he says softly because he now understands that it hadn’t exactly been pride at being able to make him laugh that had made the teenager blush. He slowly turns his head a little so he can see the boy’s face. He looks horrified at what he’s done. Eyes wide and scared.

‘I’m sorry,’ Daryl says immediately. ‘I didn’t –‘

‘Don’t run,’ Paul answers softly. He wants to reach out and grab the boy’s wrist but knows that would have the opposite effect. ‘Please don’t run. Why did you do that?’ The teenager doesn’t move but doesn’t answer either. ‘I think I have the right to an answer, Daryl.’

He doesn’t know. He just wanted to.

Paul can’t help but smile at that. He’s seen the boy break another man’s arm without a second thought but knows there’s no cruelty in him. He’s strangely soft in this harsh world. His eyes go a little wild when Paul tells him that not everyone’s intentions are so pure.

There’s hopefulness in his eyes when Daryl clumsily asks whether he is gay.

‘I am,’ Paul nods. But he has to put a stop to this as quickly and painlessly as he can. ‘And you’re going to hate me forever for saying this, but; I’m very flattered and think you’re great, but… I’m,’ he laughs, ‘I’m old, Daryl. I’m almost twice your age. And while it’s not really I could have been your dad territory, it’s close enough that I fear for my balls when Maggie finds out.’

The teenager groans and drops his head to his shoulder. He’s not seeking any affection, Paul realizes when Daryl screws his eyes shut. He’s just trying to hide at this point. The defiant ain’t when Paul says that he’s a kid just serves to prove his point.

Before, he’d agreed with him. He’s not a child when he fights, walking tall next to his family members and running to their aid, delivering it swiftly, with a fierceness that speaks of love and loyalty. But this is a whole other level. This is different.

‘Someone is going to be very lucky to have you at their side, one day,’ he tells the teenager. He doesn’t shake him off, doesn’t force him to sit on his own, can’t make himself move away either. He remembers the first time someone had shot him down and wishes someone had been gentler with him, then. So he lets Daryl recover for a couple of minutes before he realizes something. ‘First kiss?’ he asks.

‘Yeah,’ Daryl murmurs into his shoulder.

Paul laughs.

‘Stop.’

He does. Instead he tells Daryl the story of his own first kiss to brighten the mood and feels very pleased with himself when the young hunter actually laughs. Rejection can be painful, Paul knows that all too well, and he doesn’t want Daryl to never try again with someone else. Doesn’t want him to think back about this and wince.

So he’s glad that the boy talks to him still. He sits up, on his own and the fierce blush he’s sporting slowly ebbs away.

‘Can we stop talkin’ about it?’ Daryl asks, when Paul tries to pry some more. He hides his face in his hands. ‘You don’t like me. Fine. I get it. I won’t do it again.’

Paul wants to tell him that he’s wrong, that he actually likes him a lot. Just not like that. ‘Sure. Okay,’ he says instead to not give him the wrong idea. ‘How are you feeling right now?’

‘Mortified.’

Paul laughs again.

They talk some more. About the fact that Daryl is bisexual but that it doesn’t have to define him, or change him. That it’s just who he is. The fact that Daryl is scared of telling his brother, afraid that he’ll try to hurt him, causes Paul’s heart to clench painfully. Only the fact that Maggie, Glenn and Rick will be right there with him when he goes back eases his mind a little.

They’re good people.

And Daryl won’t run anymore.

Paul takes his hand, kisses it, and then walks away.

  He lobes down the stairs, lost in thought and with the sketch of poisonous flowers in his hands. He stops on the bottom step, surprised to find Michonne standing there. She’s leaning against the wall, arms folded in front of her chest and a pensive look on her face.

‘He wasn’t in the room,’ she says by way of explanation.

‘He was drawing,’ Paul answers and wonders how long she’s been standing there.

Her gaze flickers to the sketch in his hands. ‘Right.’

Paul nods. ‘He’s a good kid.’

‘Yes, he is. How is he?’

The scout smiles at her, ‘do you remember the first time someone turned you down? I think he mentioned being mortified but he was smiling again when I left, so I guess he’ll get over it.’

After a second, the woman smiles back at him. ‘Good,’ she nods before walking away.

Paul watches how the katana blinks dangerously on her back and thinks about how he might never understand all the ties that hold that family together.

[captainseaweedbrains]

Book Questions

tagged by @this-too-too-sullied-flesh (kind of! I just love talking books and couldn’t resist)

Which book has been on your shelves the longest?  Oh, hm. I have a lot of books (like, so many that have to be put into storage because my books are my children and HOW CAN I PART WITH THEM COMPLETELY??), but I would say one of the oldest books I have physically on my current book shelf is either Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets or Lemony Snicket’s The Wide Window. I got both of these copies from my mom’s school’s lost and found, so I acquired them around the same time and read both series out of order because that’s just how I roll. 

What is your current read, your last read and the book you’ll read next? My reading list is a hot mess I am currently rereading Rick Riordan’s Heroes of Olympus series and am still on the first book The Lost Hero where’s Percy I want him back now so Annabeth is happy again. I’m also reading Pride and Prejudice, War and Peace, Six of Crows by Leigh Bardugo, Geekerella by Ashley Poston and This Savage Song by Victoria Schwab. I have no self-control and get bored really easily  My last read was basically the entirety of Riordan’s Percy Jackson and the Olympians series because I have so many feels for my dysfunctional demigods. 

I’ll definitely be finishing up the Heroes of Olympus series and want to move on to the sequel series of that and the sequels to all of the other books on my reading list.

Which book does everyone like and you hated? Game of Thrones is a big one. The books are so dense that I couldn’t even get through the first book. Also Fifty Shades of Grey, BREAKING DAWN I will never be over my furious bitterness over that series. NEVER

Honestly, I feel more indifferent than hatred toward popular loved books. Like they just didn’t live up to the hype.

Which book do you keep telling yourself you’ll read, but you probably won’t? Mainly any classic novel? I think the classics are more on the dull side reading-wise for me. I’d be more inclined to pick up a modern adaptation of a classic than the classic itself. Also any book that is usually found on “Books You Must Read Before You Die” lists. Those tend not to be the type of thing I read.

Which books are you saving for “retirement?” Nothing? I read what I want when I want. I don’t even know what I want to read tomorrow let alone 50 years from now. 

Last page: read it first or wait till the end? It depends what’s happening in the book. There have been times where something Really Bad is happening and it’s spiking my anxiety levels so much that I can’t focus until I have some reassurance. I try to fight this, though, because I do prefer being surprised. But again, if my favorite character is on the verge of death or something, I have to know if they make it or not. A prime example was during my Twilight days don’t judge me and I immediately flipped to when Edward comes back in whatever the second book is called New Moon and read to the end. Since he was my favorite in that damn series, him just LEAVING was not okay with me and the book had just come out, so I didn’t know if there was going to be another installment. I needed Confirmation.

Acknowledgements: waste of ink and paper or interesting aside? I typically don’t read them because they’re just talking about their friends and agents and such, so I find them really boring to read. Sometimes I’ll read them if I’m not ready to officially be done with the book. Rarely does this happen, though.

Which book character would you switch places with? My initial reaction is Annabeth Chase or Hermione Granger as they both come from two of my favorite worlds, but given that I don’t want monsters or evil wizards killing me...

Emma Woodhouse from Jane Austen’s Emma. I would love to be rich and play matchmaker all day.

Do you have a book that reminds you of something specific in your life (a person, a place, a time)? The Truth About Forever still to this day is the only book I have ever read that displayed how I grieved after my father’s death and the life-changing repercussions of said death. 

Name a book you acquired in some interesting way. I acquired all of my original Harry Potter books via used book sales and school lost and founds. So they all have kids’ writing in them and one of them is missing their book jacket but I got each one for a QUARTER! Can’t beat that!

Have you ever given away a book for a special reason to a special person? I don’t let people borrow my books after repeatedly getting them back in stained or dog earred conditions, but I also don’t buy books for people either because #taste. So no. I only provide links to the library and Barnes and Noble sales.  

Which book has been with you to the most places? None of my books? I usually am reading a new book for whenever I do travel. 

I guess Outlander because I read that going to England, Ireland, and finished it on my way to Rome. That’s not fair to my other books, though, since I don’t travel all that often because of money.

Any “required reading” you hated in high school that wasn’t so bad ten years later? No, I never reread books I have a first bad impression on, especially books I read in high school which all sucked. 

What is the strangest item you’ve ever found in a book? I work in a library, so the list is a bit...endless. Though it’s probably not the strangest, I did find a refrigerator magnet once being used as a bookmark. Also a toothpick.  

Used or brand new? I love both, but the used copy has to be in good condition. 

Stephen King: Literary genius or opiate of the masses? I’ve still yet to read a Stephen King novel I would consider him a literary genius because of how large of audience his novels reach, the amount of adaptations made of his novels, and the cult followings his books have. The man is clearly doing something right to have so many dedicated fans. Plus, he’s super sassy. 

Have you ever seen a movie you liked better than the book? Yep, and I feel no guilt: Silver Linings Playbook, The Maze Runner, Little Women, Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children, Pride and Prejudice (le gasps! and the 2005 version at that!), Victoria, Anything by Philippa Gregory, The Help, The Perks of Being a Wallflower, The Princess Bride, Jurassic Park, and The Secret Garden to name a few.  

Conversely, which book should NEVER have been introduced to celluloid? Breaking Dawn 

 Fifty Shades of Grey 

Blood of Olympus 

Can we just stop making the last books in series/trilogies suck? Thanks.

Have you ever read a book that’s made you hungry, cookbooks being excluded from this question? Percy and Grover talk a lot about food. So I guess I’d go with the Percy Jackson and the Olympian series because Grover makes eating a can sound appetizing and plus I really want to try Ambrosia? 

Who is the person whose book advice you’ll always take? Very seldom do I take book advice because I am an extremely picky reader, but @looselipswontsinkships basically convinced me to read the Lunar Chronicles and that’s now one of my favorite series. So I trust her opinion and @bitchybillionaire‘s, @eleonoraditoledo, as well as two other book nerd friends because we all have similar tastes in stories. 

I’m tagging @looselipswontsinkships, @bitchybillionaire, @eleonoraditoledo, and anyone else who wants to join in on the book questions! Just tag me if you do it! :)