#Real World Back to New Orleans
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Painted Smile
Painted Smile III
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Pairing: Alastor x Female!Reader
Summary: You couldn't wait to meet new friends. What you didn't expect was this smiling little boy, only one year older than you, that would take such a big place in your life.
Notes: Well, well, this chapter is pure fluff. I really liked how it ended up. Please, enjoy it.
“ Can I come in yet?” you asked, outside Alastor’s bedroom, waiting for him to open the door.
You’ve been waiting for five minutes and you weren’t known for being a patient person. You were having a sleepover at Marie’s house after weeks of begging, from you at least. When your mothers said yes, you couldn’t be more ecstatic and even Alastor seemed happier than usual. He did ask you to come with a pretty dress because he had a new game he wanted to play with you. It was unusual but exciting !
So here you were, waiting in your pretty dress, your hair perfectly done, and a frown on your face. How long were you going to wait for him? You were ready to knock once again on his door but it jerked open before you could touch it. And there was your friend, his hair slicked back, his glasses on and his usual smile on his lips. You kissed him on both cheeks before he tugged you inside his bedroom.
“ Welcome to my humble Radiobooth !” He said with glee as he showed you his desk with paper spread on it, and.. was it a microphone ? You tilted your head as he forced you to sit down on one side of the bureau. He took the microphone, and spoke.
“ Welcome New Orleans to Alastor’s podcast ! Thank you for tuning in, today I’m thrilled to announce that I will not be alone, I am blessed with the best singer in all Lousianna !” he claimed and shoved the microphone to your face. You looked at his beaming smile and understood what he wanted from you. You smiled as you spoke into the microphone.
“ Thank you Alastor, I’m very pleased and proud to be here, with the best radio host in the world!” you declared, trying to sound ladylike. You grinned at him as you saw his smile sketch at your words. He gave you some paper with doodles and notes that you began to read the fattest you could as he kept talking.
“ Would you like to talk about something, Miss ?” asked Alastor as he watched you read the notes he gave you. You nodded as you spoke into the microphone, Alastor holding it for you.
“ Well, yes. Last week, at school, a girl mocked my voice, saying I sounded like a dying pig!” You ignored Alastor’s sniggeer as you kept playing your role, reading the topic you were suppose to talk about.
“ How dreadful ! How could she say something like this?”
“ Right ?” , you decided to go off script, putting the notes down “ but you should have heard her screams when I pushed her into a puddle of mud. Now, who is the pig?” you hid your smile behind your hand like a proper lady as Alastor’s laughter roared in his bedroom, his head tilted back. You giggled as he calmed himself down, holding the microphone to his lips.
“ Oh dear, you sure know how to put up a fight!” He looked down at his notes still giggling.” I did have something similar happening to me: a boy , talking badly about my mother.”
“ What?! How dare he ? I hope you put him in his place !” you shouted, feeling anger circling inside your body. Wait, was it for real or was it part of the show?
“ Indeedy I did, dear. I punched the poor fool, but it seemed like I hit too hard and he went crying somewhere and I was unfairly punished. This is why, my dear, our sleepover was delayed to this day!” he smiled as your mouth was wide open. You applauded him as he beamed with pride.
“ You did well, Mister Alastor!”
You kept doing your broadcast with Alastor, going off script when you wanted to talk about something that happened and he wasn’t there with you. Sometimes you would just shut your mouth and listen to him telling stories, real or not. You could listen to him all afternoon but he always insisted that you participate in the debate or the stories he created. He sometimes teased you as you didn’t know what to say or you couldn’t understand what he meant but you were really having a great time.
“ Oh, so she fell in love? What did you say then?”
“ That she better get up. Now dear listener, we are ready to hear your question !” he said before turning his head toward his door as Marie came inside with food and drinks. “ Oh well, here is the best cook in all of New Orleans, please come Moth- Madame! A round of applause for our new guest!” he said as he stood up, gesturing to his mother to come closer.
Marie laughed as she sat next to you, putting the tray on the desk, minding the notes all over it. You applauded with a big smile as Marie bowed her head.
“ It’s a pleasure to be here!”
~~~
It truly seemed like Marie was having the time of her life as she was holding her belly, laughing loudly.
“ No Mister Alastor! Sweets are the best food you could ever eat if you weren’t so picky with what you ate!” you shouted, slamming your fist on the table.
“ Are you saying that my mother’s food is not the best, you brat?” he asked, his eyebrows furrowed but still with his cunning smiling face.
“ I’ve never said that! Don’t put words in my mouth !”
“ That’s what I get for inviting a singer.”
“ Hey !”
Marie applauded before wiping her tears from her eyes. She kissed you both on the forehead before saying she had things to do but she hoped she would be invited once more for another broadcast.
You watched as she left the bedroom before turning your attention to Alastor who was writing notes on papers. You tilted your head before clapping your hands together as you remembered what you wanted to say to Alastor before he made you wait in front of his door.
“ I found a name for our cat!”
“ Our cat?”
“ The one who always hisses at you, yes. Let’s call him… Hissker!”
“ … Well, ladies and gentlemen, we will be back, for now, please enjoy this music I choose for you!” He turned on his radio so you could be lulled by the music. He laid his microphone on the table and sighed as he raised an eyebrow to you. “ Hissker ? I guess it’s because he is always hissing toward me but.. It doesn’t really sound right.”
“ Well.. Hiss.. Hiss…” you tried to find a good name that would satisfy Alastor. “ What about Husker ?” you asked and smiled when you saw Alastor nod. “ It was a very funny game, I hope we will play it again!”
Alastar grinned as he shook his head. “ It is not over yet, we haven't gone through all the notes yet. And you need to sing at the end of the broadcast, aren’t you the best singer in Louisiana ?” he taunted you with a smirk. “ Plus, we have the listener’s question to answer!” He stood up and went to take letters and put them in front of you. You took one and opened it.
“ What is your favorite color ?” you read before tilting your head, looking at Alastor. “ You want to know my favorite color?” He shook his head, claiming that it was the audience’s question, not his ! You smiled, feeling warm inside, it was not everyday that Alastor was curious about you like this, but you didn’t dare to tease him about it.
“ Welcome back dear listeners ! Our singer here is ready to answer all of your questions !” he took the letters and began to read its content to you. You answer all the questions with sincerity and joy. “ If you could have a superpower, what would it be?”
“ Flying !” you giggled.
“ And now, our last question before our guest’s performance. What do you think about our dear radio host Alastor ?” he stared at you, the letter hiding the bottom of his face you could only see his eyes. You took the microphone from his hand, he surprisingly let you, and with a big smile you shouted.
“ He is the best !”
Your smile widened as Alastar laughed at your answer, clapping into his hands. You felt warm seeing him so happy. You gave him back his microphone but he shook his head and tugged you toward the living room, where a beautiful piano was waiting for you. You looked at Alastor, you didn’t know how to play the piano and he knew that so why…
“ Dear listeners, it’s almost time to say au revoir but before that let’s listen to our beautiful singer here.” he sat on the bench before the piano and began to play a melody. You blushed as you held on the microphone, feeling shy. You looked at Alastor who was watching you, with a big grin before closing his eyes. You took a big breath as you recognized the melody that he played. It was one of your favorite songs…
You began to sing shyly, waiting for Alastor to laugh at you but he was keeping his eyes closed, moving with the rhythm of the piano’s keys. You closed your eyes as you held the microphone near your mouth, beginning to feel freer and freer. You smiled as you began to dance in the living room, your dress twirling around you. You jumped, moving your head with the rhythm singing like nobody was watching. You were having so much fun, you felt exthrilled, you didn’t care if you were being too loud, if you didn't hit all the right notes. You opened your eyes and fell into Alastor’s gaze.
He was staring at you with a big smile, still playing the piano perfectly with a little bit of sweat near his forehead. His hair was no longer neatly slicked back, some curly locks of hair were falling in front of his face. You thought you would feel embarrassed that he was watching you being a dumb happy girl but you just smiled at him, dancing and singing. After a while, even Marie came and you danced with her, as you sang and Alastor kept playing.
It was perfect.
You finished your song, out of breath. Marie applauded you with a big grin as Alastor put his arms around your shoulder and crushed you against his chest. He took back his microphone, thanking his audience as you were looking at him. You remember him being a tad smaller than you, but now… Did he get taller? He forced you to bow before saying goodbye.
“ It was an amazing performance ! Both of you, you can be proud of you. As a thank you, I have prepared Alastor’s favorite food: jambalaya ! “ She clapped her hands together. You tilted your head, you’ve never eaten this food but from Alastor’s face, you couldn’t wait to taste it.
~~~
“ You can sleep with me sweetie, my husband will not come home tonight.” said Marie as you shook your head, holding your plushie against your chest in your nightgown.
“ We are still playing with Alastor! When we are finished, I will join you.” you said with a shy smile. Alastor was behind you, waiting for his mother's permission to stay a little longer awake than usual. She sighed but at your pleading eyes she accepted your request. You squealed with happiness before running into Alastor's bedroom and jumping on his bed. He came after you, looking at your plushie with a puzzled expression.
“ What is it ?”
“ Well, first of all, it’s a He and he is a deer.” you smiled as you explained that when you were five, you fell down a lake and because you have never learned how to swim, you were drowning but a deer came toward you and bent down his head so you could grab his antlers ! “ My parents said that it was a tree branch that fell down the lake but I’m sure it was a deer !” you pouted, sad that you parents never trust your story. Even if you couldn’t really remember well this story, you knew what you had seen.
“ So, a deer saved your life from drowning…”
“ Yes, so my parents bought me this deer plushie so now, when I'm scared I can just squeeze him and feel safe!” you demonstrated your words by squeezing your plushie against you. “ Do you want to try it?”
Alastor stared at you and then the plushie.
“ How can he protect you?”
You rolled your eyes at him before pushing your plushie in his arms. You forced him to hug it, once you were satisfied, you nodded and looked at Alastor who was clearly confused. “ Now, squeeze him !” You looked at him as he squeezed it, closing his eyes.
You stared at Alastor. You remembered the bruises on his belly that you saw last month. You knew that fathers could be brutal with their son, to man them up as your friends used to say. Maybe Alastor was the same? You loved your plushie, you really did… But maybe, Alastor needed it more than you? You looked at the boy's expression, his eyes closed, his smile hiding in the plushie’s fur, he seemed so relaxed. You nodded, accepting your own decision, until Alastor was safe, you were going to give him your plushie.
“ Mister Deer could be our very first guest in our radio show?” you smiled at him, Alastor opening his eyes slowly, staring back at you. You gulped, maybe it was his show, you were just a guest. You opened your mouth to apologize but Alastor beat you to it.
“ I’d like that.” he whispered with a soft smile. “ Our first guest.”
Without being aware, you both laid down on the bed, Alastor still hugging your plushie. You kept talking even as the sun wasn’t in the sky anymore. You yawned for the third time in the last thirty seconds as you explained how to take care of Mister Deer.
“ Now that I have Mister Deer, who will protect you?” he asked, no trace of fatigue on his face. You smiled tiredly at him, putting your head on his pillow. It smelled like him. You didn’t know why you liked that fact.
“ Well, because you hold Mister Deer, it’s your job to protect me now.”
“ … So, do I need to hug you?”
You stared at him, his eyes shining with the moon light. A hug from Alastor ? You looked away, blushing but you didn’t know why.
“ M-maybe but…Do you want to …?”
You felt him move and you flinched as he covered your eyes with his hand. You waited for him to answer but you were so tired and now that you were englushed into the darkness with his hand on your eyes you couldn’t help but fall asleep before your could hear his answer.
~~~
Marie walked up the stairs, it was 11pm and it was time for the kids to go to bed. She opened the door to Alastor’s bedroom and couldn’t help but smile at the sweet scene in front of her. Alastor was hugging you with a deer plushie being squished between the two of you. She walked toward the bed and covered the both of you. Well, she couldn’t wait to tell that to your mother! She left the bedroom, closed the door quietly and went to bed.
Tag List: @lukneetoonz @martinys-world @littlepoetnova @sirens-and-moonflowers @eris-norwega
Ps: By the way, my deers, do you have an idea for the plushie's name ? I'm open to ideas.
#hazbin hotel alastor#alastor#alastor x reader#hazbin hotel alastor x reader#alastor headcanons#alastor scenarios#alastor scenario#hazbin hotel x reader#alastor hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel imagine#alastor x you#hazbin alastor#hazbin alastor x reader#hazbin hotel fluff#fanfiction#alastor fanfiction#fiction#alastor fiction
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Can I request yandere 🦌 Alastor 🦌 x reader where its like phantom of the opera or phantom of the radio? Alastor sometimes haunts his old radio station in his free time and falls in love with the intern reader and her voice and she mostly just gets everyone's coffee but he wants to hear her voice on the radio so he uses his "skills" to push her up the ranks from weather girl to co-host then after a while of being co-host she gets real popular and the radio host starts to flirt with her so Alastor drags her to hell to be his personal co-host and at first the reader is scared and confused but later accepts it and likes him?
The Point of No Return
Amazing request! I love the idea behind this and hope I did it justice.
TW: Mentions of murder, creepy man, Alastor being scary
He wasn't sure when he started coming back to his old radio tower. He wasn't sure when he started slinking into the shadows and making his way up from hell to observe the living. He knew why he kept coming back though.
She was beautiful. She had shiny (h/c) hair, big (e/c) eyes, and freckles that dotted her face the way the stars dotted the sky. Everything about her was beautiful. Everything about her was gentle. She walked on the balls of her feet. She barely made a peep when she entered a room. She also went unacknowledged, but boy, were Alastor's eyes on her.
The first time he heard her speak, his dead heart stopped again. Her voice was soft, floaty. He never wanted her to stop speaking. He would've listened to her for hours, but unfortunately, she isn't the one broadcasting her sweet sound to the world.
Some cranky old man had taken over as New Orleans most prominent radio host. He ordered her around a lot. She was sent on coffee runs. She took notes, and she'd try to pitch her ideas, but often went unheard. If he were still alive, if the station was still his, he'd let her take over for him any time she so wished. She wouldn't be a mere intern, she'd be his cohost. They'd be partners. Alastor's face grew even redder.
Her voice was just too calming, too smooth. She needed to move up in the world. He could help her. She may not know him, but he knew her. He knew that she deserved a much higher position than the one she had. He could take care of that for her.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Y/N wasn't expecting to get called into the station so early. She wasn't expecting her boss's panicked frenzy as he told her that her coworker, Dave, was found dead in his car that morning and that she needed to come in and take over his position for an indefinite amount of time.
She scurried into the office, a cup of coffee in her hand, plopped down at her new desk, and was immediately set to working on sorting through different stories that her station's host could report to the public.
They all seemed to be about the same thing. Copycat killers, all of whom followed in the footsteps of the Killer of the Bayou, sprouted up everywhere. He'd been dead for nearly 20 years. His name was Alastor, but other than that, the only thing she knew about him was that his story gave her the creeps.
She briefly wondered if one of the copycats killed Dave. Suddenly chilled to the bone, Y/N noticed the sun moved to hide behind the clouds for a moment before the station got brighter once more.
The police hadn't done an autopsy yet. Anything could have happened to Dave. She'd probably pick out the report for it that their radio host would read during the morning and afternoon news.
She was right. Just days later, she had to find the least gruesome report, and hesitated as she handed it over to Henry, their radio host. Dave was murdered, there was no question of that. He'd been strangled, but there were no finger prints, no rope fibers, no shoe prints in the mud by his car. It was like the killer ghosted through his murder without a trace.
She shivered. Was it cold in the station?
"Thanks, doll."
He sniffed once, wiping his snot with the back of his hand. She grimaced, tried to cover it with a smile, and politely nodded.
"Say, you got a real pretty voice. Would you maybe wanna use it? Jane's retiring soon. She did the weather. Glad to see her go, she was kind of a drag."
Y/N didn't want to be excited about the offer because Henry was awfully... unhygienic. She didn't want him to get any ideas with her either. Still, she couldn't stop the light from dancing its way into her eyes. She nodded eagerly, excited to finally get her chance to have their listeners hear her voice.
Each day, she'd come in and tell the people who tuned into their station that it'd be sunny, or rainy, or windy, or snowy. Each day, she slowly spent more and more time on the air. Eventually, Henry decided that she'd simply be promoted to his cohost.
She was appreciative, but apparently not nearly as appreciative as he would've liked. Henry got flirty. He'd compliment her clothes, her hair, and her shoes. He'd tell her how smart she was. At some point, the seemingly harmless compliments turned into him hitting on her.
"You've got a sexy voice, babe."
"Oh, um. Thank you, but please don't call me babe."
He took that pretty personally.
"Listen here, you little bitch. I'm the reason you have this job. You wouldn't be anybody without me. So why don't you be a good girl and keep your mouth shut."
He got closer and closer to her, and louder with each step. But just before he'd reached her, a large crack appeared in the floor. Tendrils of shadow slithered out of the crack, and a horrific looking man rose from the gaping red crevice.
"I believe the nice woman said "please". Now, I'd like you to say sorry."
The man was terrifying, with a short red bob, black eyes with glowing red pupils, large antlers growing from his head, and what appeared to be deer ears. Everything about him seemed very pointy.
"What the fuck?!" Henry screamed.
"Nope, those aren't the words I was looking for."
The shadowy tendrils that preceded the man shot out at Henry, wrapping themselves around his throat and pulling him from his feet, into the air. The man turned to face Y/N, a smile stretching the width of his face. His antlers shrunk down and when he blink, his sclera turned red. "Hello, my dear. I'm here to take you away."
"Where are we going?" Y/N trembled. The man's face looked very familiar, but she couldn't quite place a name to it.
"Hell, of course."
Hell? As in, the Bible's Hell? Y/N felt her heart stop.
"Who are you?"
His grin got even bigger. "Oh, I'm sure you recognize me, dear. You've been staring at my portrait for months."
She racked her brain, when an image from one of the papers she'd skimmed through flashed in her mind. Her blood ran cold. "Alastor. You're Alastor."
"Bingo! Now, let's go. I have somewhere to be tonight."
He grabbed her hand, and the two were forced through the ground. She screamed, and the noise was silenced as the crack in the floor sealed itself shut behind them.
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Hiya!
So I have this request thing for Alastor!
Alastor x Fem!(if that's ok) co-hostess and they like knew each other when they were alive and were co hosts!
Mon ange - Alastor x Fem!reader
That sounds so cute!! yes I can definitely give it a shot, I'm guessing she was the co-host to his radio show :3c
She has been looking for a job for a couple more days now since her last job didn't end up very well. She heard of this Hazbin Hotel was something about rehabilitation, so she thought that maybe she could find a job there as a hostess, the same job she had when she was alive back when. So that she did, it was quite some time till she found the way to it but when she did it was a pretty swell walk, arrived at the hotel she knocked on the door awaiting a reply. This blonde opened the door with an excited face
''Oh my god! hi! I'm Charlie welcome to the hazbin hotel!! How can I help you,,
she says in an eager voice grabbing Y/n hands to give them a shake, she then gives her time to reply to the question she posed
''Oh right. Em, I'm not sure if you are looking for employees but I kind of was looking for a job, if that's okay,,
this made Charlie even more excited, which Y/n thought was impossible but there it was. With a little gentle push, Charlie made her come inside the hotel to see the lobby where a bunch of other demons were hanging out. A spider demon was sitting at the bar with a cat demon, on the other side a girl with an x over her eye was holding up an angelic spear and looking at Y/n, and finally near them now there was another rather tall demon, his aesthetic being mostly composed of red and a little bit of white on his collar, Y/n eyes made their way up to the mans face seeing he had a rather sinister smile, something about that was quite familiar to her but she couldn't put a finger on it
Charlie started presenting every demon to her, Angel Dust, Husk and Vaggie, waiting for this creepy guy to get presented
''And this is our hotel Host Alastor!,,
hearing that Y/n froze giving him another look from head to toe to see if this person was actually her Alastor the one she had known her entire life and with whom she co-hosted the radio broadcast most of New Orleans was listening to at the time. She walked a little closer to him, her hand reaching for him a little bit
Memories started to flow in as she heard that name, memories from when she was still alive, 1930s New Orleans, Louisiana. She had been quite the charmer when she was alive, not exactly to attract men but in general she had a charming personality. She hadn't really found anyone she actually liked for years, not being one for relationships anyway but it was when she went to this speakeasy for a couple of drinks that she found her someone, at the time they were just talking to each other each and every night about all kinds of stuff, especially cooking, since Alastor was a real foodie and loved to talk about some of his mother recipes sometimes, But it was not until one night where she went to visit him at his home near the forest that she found out about his hobby of killing and eating people, at first she was quite scared about it but she knew that he wouldn't hurt her for the world, so she felt safe around him even for what he did. At that time, Alastor suggested she become his co-hostess for the radio show he put up, and since she was kind of head over heels for him she accepted. they would put up shows almost every night talking about all kinds of stuff and playing mostly jazz music, sometimes the occasional love song Y/n would put into giving a hint to him, It took a while for Alastor to realise what was going on in her mind, he could tell something was bothering her but he couldn't put a finger on it, it was not until you actually confessed to him one time before a broadcast that he understood what was going on
''Oh mon ange you should have told me sooner, you know I'm quite rusty when it comes to romance, but I do accept your heart as mine~,,
He said that the night before he would be found dead in the forest near his house, shot through the forehead by some hunter who mistook him for a deer, their relationship ending there and then leaving Y/n heartbroken and alone.
''Alastor?,,
she mutters out loud looking him in the eyes, his smile falters ever so slightly looking at the shorter woman, some sort of confusion in his eyes as this person seemed to know him, and then it finally clicked in his head
''mon chéri? Y/n is that you?,,
he speaks in a soft but firm voice, reaching out for her hand, taking it in his looking her up and down once before realising it was in fact her, the co-hostess he had on his radio show, not to mention, his chéri.
''Oh my stars Alastor it's actually you, I thought I'd never find you again!,,
she says going for an embrace, and surprisingly to everyone Alastor accept it right away, putting his arms around her shoulders and squeezing
''so you two know each other?,,
Charlie says out of nowhere looking at them with a 'You guys were an item at some point and I know it' look on her face
''yeah, we both hosted his radio show when we were alive! I was the co-hostess, it was such a pleasurable time for us both, and yes we were kind of a thing.. which I hope we could still do...,,
she says turning her attention fully to the deer demon before her. with a soft smile on her lips and a gentle touch on his hand. Alastor looked her softly in the eyes, himself wanting to be closer to her once again in another lifetime, or deathtime. He wanted nothing more at that right moment.
''Of course mon chéri, I would love nothing more, hell you said you were looking for a job, how about getting your old one back! my dearest you are fit to be my co-hostess once again ha!,,
he says with a power-filled voice, his gaze still soft on her, taking her hand now and placing a kiss on it.
''Mon ange,,
A/n: here it is!!! I actually loved writing this one Im so soft for Alastor speaking french istg, hope you enjoyed this one shot :3c
#hazbin alastor#alastor x reader#oneshot#alastor hazbin hotel#alastor#alastor the radio demon#the radio demon#radio demon#hazbin hotel alastor#hazbin hotel#viziepop#hazbinhotel#hazbin hotel 2024#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin
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I want a Leverage/Stargate crossover in which Parker, Hardison, Eliot, and Sophie all know about Stargate and all think they are the only ones who know.
Eliot is easy. He worked for them. He's been off world and has seen aliens up close. He doesn't want that danger anywhere near his team and, if they knew aliens were real, they would seek them out.
Parker, pre-Leverage, was once going to steal from a goa'uld. She's hidden away and safe, but sees the goa'uld change hosts or similar. It is one of the few times she walked away without her score. She still stole something, just not what she had gone for. She also neatly accepted that mind controlling snake monsters are real and that made her much more accepting of the impossible and, weirdly, less afraid in general. Nothing beats a mind controlling snake monster.
Hardison hacked his way into the mountain base while setting up in Portland. He didn't go in deep; he was just looking for something cute and Santa related for Parker. Instead, he found a mission report some idiot had sent in via email. The report had video. Brutal video. He watched. Three times. And then bought himself a new computer solely to hack deeper and figure out if what he saw was real or fake. It was real. He was thrilled--space ships and aliens were real! He was terrified--space ships and aliens were real and not very friendly. He wanted no part of that.
Sophie conned her way into a dinner with military officials. It wasn't even for a job. She was just bored and wanted to test out her skills. (Part of her also wanted to get caught. Part of her post-Nate was a bit self-destructive). She found a man fuming and lent a listening ear. With a bit of alcohol and a lot of pretending to know more than he did, she learned about the Stargate program. She locked that knowledge up deep, ready to wield it if ever needed.
And then, one day in New Orleans, SGC comes knocking for Eliot. It is one of the times that Hardison is home with them. Eliot is cooking and Hardison and Parker are teasing him in the kitchen. Harry is out. Breanna is working to undo a virus Hardison created for her as a challenge.
Then, say, Cameron Mitchell walks in. Eliot glances over from where he's cooking at the stove and says, "No. Turn around. Walk away."
Hardison has gone still. He remembers Cameron's face from the reports he read and watched. "How do you know Eliot?" he asks.
"We used to work together."
Hardison turns to Eliot, eyes wide. "Eliot?"
"Better question," Eliot says, turning off the heat. "How do you know Mitchell here?"
"Someone has to keep an eye on what the government is doing," Hardison vamps, part of him still hoping to end this conversation without Parker learning about the spaceships and aliens.
"Dammit Hardison."
By this time, Parker has hopped off the counter and walked up to Cameron to get a better read on him. She also nicks his wallet and firearm. "Catch," she calls to Eliot as she tosses the firearm to him.
"Parker!" Eliot chastises as he snatches the gun. "Don't throw firearms."
She shrugs. "I knew you'd catch it."
This is the first time Cameron has looked wrongfooted this entire time. "What?"
"Cameron Mitchell," Parker reads from his ID. "Airforce."
Cameron swipes it back from her. Parker lets him. As she turns, she catches Breanna's eye and gestures to her ear.
Breanna pulls out of the code she was working on and starts looking for any foreign frequencies to find out who is talking to Mitchell.
Sophie, who has been watching quietly this entire time and noting Cameron's military standing, takes into account his actual division and the ways Eliot and Hardison are acting and clearly talking around something. She decides to make a gamble.
"Does this have anything to do with the Stargate program?"
Eliot, Hardison, and Cameron all freeze and look at her.
"I'm sorry, ma'am," Cameron says, "But how do you know about the Stargate program."
Sophie offers him a beatific smile. "People do talk--" she pauses and gives him a searching look "--commander is it? Interesting that the commander himself came to talk." She turns to Eliot. "This might be important."
Cameron spins to Eliot. "Did you tell her?"
Eliot crosses his arms. "I've not said anything."
Parker raises her hand. "What's the Stargate Program?
Hardison is the first to speak up. "It is a secret program that deals with threats from space."
"Like aliens?" Breanna asks, continuing to hack into Cameron's comms. She's surprised by the layers of protection.
"Yes."
"Okay," Breanna mutters. "Cool. So aliens are real."
Parker raises her hand again.
"You don't need to raise your hand, Parker," Eliot mutters into his hand.
"Are any of these aliens mind controlling snake monsters who like Egyptian antiquities?"
Now every eye is on her.
"Yes," Cameron says, stretching the word out. "How?"
Parker just hops back up onto the counter. "I stole from one."
"Did she just say she stole from one?" A woman's voice plays from Breanna's corner.
"So I've hacked their comms," Breanna says.
Cameron nearly growls in frustration. This was not how this was supposed to go.
"Why don't you invite the rest of your team in?" Sophie says. "Eliot, will we have enough food?"
Eliot rolls his eyes and turns back to the stove. He turns the heat back on and gives his dish a stir. "I was making enough for leftovers. We'll be fine."
"Who are you people?" Cameron asks. "I mean, I've read your files, but--"
"Oh, how did you like those?" Hardison asks. "Beauties, aren't they?"
"You forged your records?" Cameron asks, his tone flat.
Sophie touches his elbow and guides him to a seat. "When you've taken over a small country, darling, paperwork is child's play."
Cameron looks at her, sees she isn't lying, and laughs. "Okay. Fine." He calls his team in. They'll have dinner. And then they'll discuss saving the world.
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My Best Friend, the Ghost
It was the best feeling in the world. Picture this: a simple spread of the legs in the summer heat, sweat dripping from your forehead. You feel a cool, slick touch slide down your inner thigh. It feels almost slimy, though it leaves no residue as it inches toward your taint and ever closer to your rear. You gasp as it circles the tight hole, as if an expert were rimming you with their cold, wet tongue. Then, quickly, a gentle thrust. You feel it enter you, slithering slowly, intentionally. It begins to fill you, that frosty ooze spreading all throughout your body. Your breath is laboured, as you begin to contort and expand as it is overtaken, washed and inundated with this foreign substance bubbling beneath your skin. It pushes up your throat, choking you, taking the last of your breath away before it presses at the top palate of your mouth. It would feel almost like drowning, though your sensations only fire endorphin after endorphin of euphoria. Pressure builds as it presses harder and harder, until... pop. The hard palate gives way as it rushes and balloons into your head. Thoughts and stresses fade away, and you're left in a state of total ecstasy as your body begins to move on its own.
Fuckin' amazing, am I right? Well, guess what? I get that incomprehensible experience whenever the hell I want. Perks of living in a haunted apartment! Confused? Let me explain.
I moved to New Orleans a year ago, give or take a couple of months. I graduated college, and after testing out a couple of places that didn't really pan out for me, I landed in the cement swamp in the height of the summer. I'd just left Salt Lake City, so coming from the tepid air of Utah to the brick wall humidity of Louisiana was a lot. Yet, I was determined to make the best of this one. I'd secured a low-level office gig at a non-profit, and rented out a cheap two bedroom just outside the French Quarter. The house was one of those old shotgun-style places. It wasn't well maintained, frankly incomprehensibly so to be up to purpose for a tenant, though I was still paying an arm and a leg.
The first few nights, I didn't sleep super well. It was hot, I was sleeping on a hard air mattress, and the tall ceilings and old wooden floors made every little creak and groan of the house sound like some demonic entity moaning in the darkness just out of sight. At the time, I was resolved to believe such a rational theory. After all, ghosts aren't real. That recent college graduate sensibility: anything can be rationalized. Looking back, I scoff at what I thought I knew compared to what I know now. But that skeptic within me was what I relied on. It got me through my courses, it got me my job, it is what guided me through the insanity of life. So, as more peculiar occurrences began to happen, that is precisely the lens with which I saw the world.
When things started to go missing: my trusty running shoes, a pair of underwear, my gold chain, my laptop, even my keys, it was just me being forgetful. I took my Adderall and just ordered new things. I hunkered down and just focused on my work. When I heard scratching in the walls at night, footsteps down my hallway, quiet breaths echoing in the shadows... I was just sleep deprived, I took my Xanax and zonked myself out. Those dark shadows that crept around the corners just on the edge of my peripherals? Eye floaters, nothing more. Though, after about two weeks of just a miserable living experience, I finally experienced something I couldn't rationalize.
It was after a soul sucking day at the office, having spent all day sifting through piles of meaningless paperwork to the grating click clack of my coworkers silently typing on their keyboards like mindless drones. I'd gone into overtime that day, and after five or six cups of coffee, I can't say I was even remotely physically tired that evening. My mind, of course, was entirely devoid of functionality. Walking through my front door, tossing my keys in the little dish by the door, I collapsed onto my couch and just scrolled through Netflix, looking for nothing in particular. That's when I saw it. I'd turned to grab my vape pen from the side table, and my glance had grazed past the mirror which hung above my mantle. Floating behind me, clear as day in the mirror, was a figure. It was larger than I, big broad shoulders and pecs, tapering down to a narrow waist, flanked on either side by two muscled arms. It's face was chiseled and sharp, brows furrowed, golden eyes narrowed and full lips twisted in a mischievous smirk. It had no legs; rather, its body was condensed into a long whippy tail. Most notably, I would argue, was the... well... rather sizeable phallus which stood erect above it's navel, with two grapefruit sized balls hanging beneath it.
I sat frozen, unable to look away from it sizing me up in the mirror's reflection. All the other things I could make sense of in my head were obliterated at the sight of what was merely inches behind me, and inches above the floor. I finally found the strength to merely exhale, letting a soft billowing cloud of breath out of my mouth. It was the middle of June, and perhaps 91 Fahrenheit outside. It was impossible. Everything about what my eyes were seeing was impossible. As it began to creep toward me, I fully expected to spin around and like every haunted house movie of all time, there would be nothing there. Though as I whipped my head to look behind, no such luck. I was face to face with it. It was grinning as we were nose to nose. Bringing it's cool, ghostly hand to my cheek, it caressed it with the back of its fingers and winked at me.
"Hey there." It's voice boomed like a timpani, yet it's timbre was gravelly and suave. I couldn't help myself. In a primal state of panic, I shrieked a terrified scream. It didn't last long. The spirit seized the opportunity I was entirely unaware I had given it- quickly shoving it's head into my open mouth. The force by which it had taken me was overwhelming, though I suppose with it's sheer size, in retrospect it makes perfect sense. I was flung down into the cushions of the couch, as it pushed itself into me. I grasped at my throat, which was bulging from the thing which was now flooding down my gaping maw. I could hear it laugh from within me as it squeezed itself in, it's massive upper body condensing in on itself and slowly pushing deep into my gut. My stomach ballooned out, stretching as if it were rubber while it's tail whipped aimlessly against my face before it slipped between my lips.
This was the first time I felt the sensation. The euphoria. The cascading waterfall of endorphins as my body was contorting and stretching as the ghost slipped me on like a suit. I could feel it thrusting it's hands into my arms which expanded and stretched to accommodate the spirit's size. I could feel my chest burst through my shirt, with two jiggling pecs now engorged with it's essence. I could feel my thighs and calves swell with thick muscle, and my feet lengthen and explode through my socks. It was as if someone had taken a water hose and filled me like a balloon, and as I felt it's head rising up my throat one last time and slither into my head, I can't say I wasn't in the throws of intense and indescribable bliss. My eyes opened, I was no longer in the driver's seat.
"Ahhh fuck." It's voice boomed out of my mouth as I found my body moving of it's own accord. No, rather moving of his accord. I stood up, feeling my jiggling muscles slowly firm up and tighten as I walked to the mirror. The thing which wore me as a suit was checking itself out! It had my skin, my face, but otherwise I was unrecognizable. I was indeed approaching 6' 4", my jawline was square and chiseled, my arms as large as my head, my feet probably a size 16, and my... appendage? Let's just say he was now an anaconda snaking down my thigh, his hood restored and flanked on either side by an impressive bulbous sac. "Shit, that feels nice." My voice was soft like velvet, but frayed with a coarseness which tickled the mind like sandpaper. It stretched my muscles and cracked my neck and knuckles before finally bothering to introduce itself. "Name's Antoine, nice to meet ya." My hand slinked down to my member giving it a playful tug. "Actually, tonight, your name is Antoine too, baby." He smiled with my pearly white teeth, and it would be an outright lie to deny I was not eager to see what this Antoine would be using me to do that night. We sauntered over to my bedroom, tossing shirts and pants out of my drawers before he found some shorts and a tank top that fit my new musculature whatsoever. I had but only one pair of sandals that he could force my massive feet into, but neither he nor I could care less. As walked to the front door, and stepped out into the humid New Orleans air, he took a deep breath with my borrowed lungs, sighing in satisfaction. "Aight, my man. Let's see what kind of trouble we can get in tonight."
Thus began our mutual understanding. Our partnership. Frankly, our friendship. That night was one filled with club hopping across town, hitting dancefloors right and left, drinking outrageous amounts of liquor, grinding on sexy men with our tongue down their throats... None of which I would have ever experienced on my own. It was an entire world I knew nothing about, nothing I could have ever imagined myself doing, but with Antoine it seemed like second nature. After a night of debauchery and a tryst in some leather daddy's hotel room, he returned near the crack of dawn, collapsing onto my bed in a sweaty, swampy heap. He closed my eyes and almost immediately afterward I reopened them. The sun had risen, and peering at my phone, it was then 9 AM.
For a moment, I sat there and stared at the ceiling. I waited for my body to move on his command, though when it didn't, I whipped my sheets off to see that I had returned mostly to my former stature. I did note that I had grown ever so slightly. Perhaps his presence within me had left some residual effects on my body, a pleasant fact of which I did not mind whatsoever. I sat up, stretching my arms above my head, a wet warm musk wafting from my sweaty pits and steamy feet from the night before. For the first time, I found myself rather enjoying the scent... Where it once used to make me grimace with disgust, it now made me nearly salivate at the slightest tickle on my nose. I peered to the corner of the room, where now even in broad daylight I could see Antoine's spectral self floating above the floorboards, his arms crossed and his bright smile greeting me in the morning light.
We stared at eachother for a mere moment, before I smiled back at him. It didn't take words for us to understand what was to soon come to pass. Frankly, from then on, it was an unspoken pact. An inseparable bond, bound by an awakened hedonism and carnal desire. Starting that morning, our boys night out became a regular occurrence. I'd get home from work, exhausted and tired from a thankless day of grinding in the soulless office, and we would come up with a plan for the evening. He'd take his time slipping into me, knowing full well just how much I enjoyed each breathtaking second of it. In fact, we took a Saturday to go shopping for "night clothes" which would actually fit us when he was inside me.
Antoine was a bit of a casanova, able to make any person he met swoon with a single glance. The parade of men strutting the walk of shame out of my home every morning did not go unnoticed by my neighbors, not that they particularly seemed to care. It was the spirit of New Orleans, live every day like it's your last. That sentiment was instilled in me, along with a new attitude. I began to care less and less about this dead end job which had only gotten more and more unbearable as our relationship grew. My boss began to notice this as well. He noticed that my productivity had slipped, that I'd begun to come into work with more and more tattoos (which were admittedly against company policy), that my musky scent was becoming stronger and more apparent, that I'd become more casual and laid back, that I was trying to force myself into work clothes that were increasingly more and more revealing as my body grew toned and large. This, to him at least, was unacceptable. I don't entirely recall what it was that finally set him off, though I think it may have had something to do with me having my feet up on my desk as I took calls and the delicious pheromones to which my coworkers had taken a liking to. Something to do with my cubicle mate Daniel lapping up the pungent sweat from my socks beneath my desk as I worked. Couldn't say. Either way, it was the last straw for me.
It wasn't much of a loss, as my frequent appearances at the clubs, or rather my appearance altogether, which the bar owners had taken notice of. I had a line of bartending and gogo boy offers to take up in it's stead. Though, it wouldn't be enough to cover the rent on my own. Thus, we hatched a plan. A solution to both our issues: my financial one, and a more permanent solution for Antoine.
It was an average night in the French Quarter, we were behind the bar, and there before us appeared our solution sitting on a stool near the drink well. He was a tourist, a particularly needy and rude one at that. No friends, failing every attempt to snag the attention of our regular hustlers with his more than lacklustre personality. He was perfect. It wasn't difficult to play into his inflated ego, all it took was playing into his cringeworthy advances and unwelcomed touches before he was licking our pits and nipples, ready to head to our place. A lack of a tip was the final nail in the coffin, we were ready. The 'three' of us stumbled back to our apartment, and it took merely five minutes of making out before the drunken asshole had passed out in our bed.
Walking back into the living room, Antoine regurgitated himself out of me. Feeling him exit was always a bittersweet experience, euphoric in sensation but longing in sentiment. He floated in front of me, winking as he compressed himself under the door of our bedroom, slipping in with a quiet pop. Wiping the sweat from my brow, and taking a deep whiff of my dank sneaker like degenerate scent pig I'd become, I popped open a bottle of our nicer tequila to celebrate. As the yellow liquor began to pour into the glass, I heard the delightful sounds of possession begin to loudly bellow out from behind the closed door. A shriek, followed by squeaks and rubbery creaks atop elated moaning and gasping. Taking the two glasses, I meandered over to the couch, kicking my wafting, wet feet up onto the coffee table and grabbing the bong to pack a nice bowl.
The sounds of inflation and gargling, stretching skin and growing muscle were like candy to my ears, as I wondered what Antoine would look like. The guy was less than ideal before, though as a host, the sky was the limit to how gorgeous he was going to be. I lit the bowl, taking a deep drag before blowing an adequate cloud. Antoine's moans got louder and louder, his voice all the more recognizable as it progressed. One more puff from the bong and the sound of that final pop soared through the air. The house was silent apart from the heavy panting quietly emanating from the bedroom.
I sat there for a solid moment. He always was the master of the tease, knowing full well that I awaited his reveal. I could hear his chuckling before I heard the click of the lock on the door. Slowly, I stood up and walked to the bedroom door, pressing my ear against the wood. Nothing. I grabbed ahold of the doorknob with bated breath, slowly turning it and pushing the door open. The lights were on in the bedroom, and there in front of the mirror taking a selfie with his host's phone was my Antoine.
He was better than I ever could have imagined. That lanky, sad excuse for a man was long gone and in his stead stood the dreamiest hunk I'd ever set my eyes on. Our bodies were nearly identical in stature, as over the past several months he'd completely stretched me out to his own measurements. Though, his delicious golden eyes on that gorgeous, masculine face sent me over the edge. He was stacked, he was tall, he was caramel, he was packing down there, and he wafted that buttery, salty musk that made me drool. All he needed to do was to turn to me and wink in his new body and I felt myself harden.
"What's up, baby boy?" He flexed his massive arms, seductively licking his sweaty bicep for me. Let's just say that tequila and that bowl were still there the next day. We were rather preoccupied throughout the dawn, the morning, the afternoon, the evening... Endless hours of carnal pleasures and sensual overload. Simply washing the bedsheets of our intertwined cum imbued into the very threads of the fabric took longer than expected. I imagine you get the picture, so needless to say, such days were and continue to be frequent.
I suppose that brings us to today. As I sit here and write out how we got to this very moment, waiting for an Uber to take us to our honeymoon, I'll go ahead and mention that my former boss just walked by us, feigning pleasantries as if we were old buddies. Asking if now that I had a partner, I was finally ready to knuckle down and come back to work in a 'real job.' I turned to Antoine, he turned to me, and as we found our hands sliding toward eachother's growing bulges, basking in eachother's beguiling musk while my frump of an old boss indignantly watched, I flipped him the bird.
He stomped off, I doubt I'll ever see him again. Why should I need to? I have my man, I have our future, we have all the delicious men of this raunchy city to enjoy... What else can a guy ask for?
#male possession#male transformation#body transformation#original#transformation#jockification#musk#gay transformation#male tf#ghost possession#bad boy transformation#body possession#gay possession#jock possession#muscle tf#jock tf#nerd to jock
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Unmasked / Platonic!Alastor x Teen! Daughter Reader
Chapter II: Sneaking Suspicion
Summary:
After reading over thirty-one entries, three disturbing pages are brought to light….or the darkness, depending on how Emily wants to look at it.
WARNING: This entire chapter (and probably the next one) depicts a very disturbed, traumatized, paranoid child (who is you, the reader.), who has just lost the person she loved most in the world. A HUGE deterioration in her psyche is seen here.
Look out for: Murder, Mental Illness, Paranoia, Anxiety, Delusions, Cannibalism, etc….
November 12th, 1933
I don’t know what I’m doing anymore, my dear diary. Please, Jesus, please help me find my way back, I’m…I’m shaking relentlessly and the monsters at night won’t leave me alone.
My Pa….he’s not come home in three weeks. I know he will never open that door again, but I wish he would just one last time.
It started with a simple hunting trip. I saw him bringing a large trash bag over his shoulder whilst he was going out, and I just assumed it held his gun and other necessities.
A few hours later, people heard gunshots go off in the area he hunted and now he’s…..
When they opened the bag they found another mangled body….and concluded that my Papa was the serial killer terrorizing New Orleans since 1922.
No, he couldn’t have done anything of the sort. He was a good man. PAPA was a good man. He was. He is.
I read it in the papers…nobody wants to see me anymore. I’ve tried contacting everyone I knew and loved, and they told me to never set foot on their property again, they thought I was involved in this hellish situation!
Anne, James, Elbert, Carol, Mr. Devereaux, Charlotte, Martin…..EVERYBODY has abandoned me!
I wanted to desperately contact Grandma, so I wrote her a series of letters. Her caretaker wrote me a letter back that she went into shock after finding out Pa died, and she’s….well, she’s in Heaven now too.
I just turned sixteen, please. I need my Papa back….my Grandma….
I’ve been in the house surviving off of scraps. I’m afraid to leave again; I don’t want to be shot, I don’t want people coming after me because of what my Papa allegedly did. I’ve lost so much weight, I’m tired, I feel sick….
I’m not ready to be a woman, to grow up, quite yet. I grew up taking things for granted; I thought I would have my family and friends for life. How will I find a job? Will anybody take me in? Can I find a new family?
I’m still here, I’m still here, my dear friend. My beautiful…I’ve not lost my mind, not yet. I’m not crazy, am I? No, no….I’m just….going through some traumatic moments!
I’m hungry….
My stomach is hurting so bad, I’m perspiring and my toes are curled…I need more food. I’ve eaten nearly everything, I have no money to purchase anything else…
Every time it growls, there’s a new tang of pain….
Papa, you would never….you’re a good man, Pa. I love you, I’ll always love you….
Oh, it all makes sense now! Why you never wanted me to see what you brought home, why you were always out late, why you were so secretive…oh, Pa, why didn’t you tell me?! I…I would’ve….contacted the authorities.
Which is what you didn’t want.
I HATE YOU, YOU FUCKING DEMON! HOW DARE YOU BRING THIS UPON ME AND GRANDMA, I HOPE YOU ROT YOU SICK, TWISTED, SORRY EXCUSE FOR A HUMAN-
I miss your kisses and your hugs, Pa. Please….please come back. At least tell me where your grave is so I can hug your body one last time….I’ve never wanted to hear your voice more, whether it be in real life or the radios, please!
Oh my god, what are we having for dinner? I’m starving, Pa….
I have a headache, Pa….please give me some medicine to ease the pain…..
I need you, I need somebody. Anybody. Please….
I never want to see you again. If I ever see you again after this lifetime I will do everything in my power to slaughter you a second time for all the pain that you’ve caused….
I’m going to take a breather soon, my dear friend. I need to let off some steam. I’m….I just need to find an energy source. I’ll be back, I promise.
——————————————
November 13th, 1933
Oh, I’ve found something to eat, finally. It didn’t taste as terribly as I thought, and in fact, it tasted similar to how you cooked our meat, Pa. So tender….so, so, tender…..
The gangster didn’t even see it coming. I don’t think he liked me, he was looking at me like I did something wrong. I hushed him, hushed him well, and said,
“No, no, sir. Why are you giving me that look?? I’m only hungry! I’m just trying to survive! Please don’t let me starve!”
I hated that gaze. That look on his face made me feel like a monster, like I wasn’t justified in my action to cut him into tiny little pieces-
Pa, it’s just like you used to make. I never knew how…similar the meat tasted until now. Why did you do that? To so many innocent people….this man was not innocent, Pa. He was part of a cartel, I was doing this world a favour!
I feel better, I think. My stomach feels more satisfied than it has in days.
I don’t feel any better, though. I just…I just ate somebody….
I don’t know what to do! How is….how is his family going to react when they find this out?! I….I caused him pain, so much pain….
But I need more. I want to live….I have so much goodness to offer to the world, I promise I can be better! I’m not usually like this! I promise to make you proud! To make everybody proud…like I’ve always tried to do!
I know how much I was lacking in performance, I’ve never been cut out for the big leagues, but I am positive I can amount to something! If this world will give me a chance, I’ll be the best version of myself I can ever be. I can, I can! You always said I could do anything I put my mind to, I can do this. I can still be a happy girl and young woman, I can still grow up, I can make new friends. Perhaps I’ll move? Yes, maybe that’s a good idea…
I miss you. I miss Grandma, I miss our talks. The things you would do with me…how you used to sing to me when I was scared of the monsters under my bed, our weekly theatre nights; we’d always go to see Charlie Chaplin, that was your favourite; and it grew to be mine too.
I miss how close we were to each other. We were like….we were like two peas in a pod. We couldn’t be one without the other.
1917, was the year of my birth. How well do you remember picking me up that day? When I was alone, cold, nearly dead…in a dumpster? You saved me.
That’s why….I don’t want to believe you did those things, Papa. I don’t. I have a very strong sense of morality, you know that. I….I can’t fathom you ever being capable of something like that.
I…I don’t think I knew you, Papa. You…
You betrayed me.
Everybody was right, you know. The suspicions people had about you. Anne…she always talked about you with a certain look of fear in her eyes, and I always made the time to defend you to anybody who ever judged.
How was it, that the only person who never saw the signs, was me? The person who lived with you for sixteen years?
Maybe I just didn’t want to believe it.
And now look at what you’ve done. You’ve killed a part of me…you killed Grandma; your mother! I was supposed to meet her up for tea a few days after your death, but time had beaten me to it. What ever will I do, without your love?
I miss you, Pa. And I love you, so very much. But you better pray to the devil himself; that I do not die for another five decades. I won’t be able to hold myself back…from hurting you. And I’ll hurt you bad.
To be hated….to be attacked by somebody you protected, nurtured, loved with all your heart….yes, that’s the pain I want to inflict on you. Your daughter, the person you’d kill for, turning against you.
I love you, Pa, I really do. But….a serial killer will never be somebody I bode well with.
———————
January 10th, 1934
I am sorry. For everything. It’s very frigid out here due to winter, and I’ve been camping outside for quite a while…I can’t feel my legs anymore.
To….anybody I may have scared or hurt, from the bottom of my heart, I am sorry.
#hazbin hotel#fanfiction#platonic alastor x reader#alastor x reader#child reader#cannibalistic#tw murder#diary entry#horror#child trauma
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➵ pogue on pogue macking - madelyn cline x fem!singer!reader | social media au (1)
a/n: I’ve always wanted to do a social media au and honestly this was so fun to make! also, please know that all those pictures are from pinterest and because of that, in no way a measure on the reader’s looks!! I always try to make my works as inclusive as possible for everyone so even more people can enjoy them <3
yourinstagram
liked by sabrinacarpenter, luizakns and 1.998.037 others
yourinstagram thank you so much charleston, for being an amazing crowd and providing me with one of the most fun nights on this tour! love you all so much, hope to see you again soon🧡
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emilyshortcake no because you don’t understand, I wanted to go there so badly but I found out too late and all tickets were already sold😭please be back
↳ reidsgirlfriend @/emilyshortcake I literally sat outside the stadium the entire night because you could hear the concert all the way out there💀
itsbrutalouthere mother mothering
oliviarodrigo 🔥🔥
ynnn please come to italy!!
tunafish got the opportunity to see this live and I will never be the same person again
madelyncline
liked by chasestokes, drewstarkey and 1.284.573 others
madelyncline did a bit of a photodump there🤭
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jessiejay how can someone look so good in a casual photo dump?
ynisbabe excuse me?? is that @/yourinstagram that I see?
↳ emilyshortcake no because I thought that too omg
lisawithz them cheekbones DAMN girl
dreamworksworkofdreams A Y/N CONCERT IS THIS REAL I AM FREAKING OUT
madisonbaileybabe 😍❤️
lechair mads is a fellow yn-fan oh my god😍😍
urfellowsapphic slide 3 is literally only another reason to love her
yourinstagram
liked by madelyncline, jackchampion and 1.968.428 others
yourinstagram I am sooo proud to announce that my second album, “daughter of revenge” is now out on all music streaming platforms! As some of you might know, I went through some rough patches in my childhood and adolescence, but I managed to overcome them all and now I am standing here, and I made it, and this is exactly what this album is all about! thank you so much for all your support, because without you, none of this would have ever been possible!
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therealobama I JUST LISTENED TO IT AND I AM ASCENDING OH MY GOD
ynisbabe the declaration of independence < this
emilyshortcake ihumuyd chain⤵️
↳ hannahliv I HOPE YOU NEVER FALL IN LOVE AGAIN
↳ janagp I HOPE YOU’LL BE YOURSELF AND LOSE YOUR FRIENDS
↳ bella_ltn I HOPE THEY CALL YOU OUT FOR SHIT YOU SAID
↳ jjmay I HOPE YOU’RE MISERABLE UNTIL YOU’RE DEAD
suesilvesterforpresident BABE WAKE UP NEW Y/N Y/L/N ALBUM JUST DROPPED
sabrinacarpenter so proud of you hon, keep up the good work!
↳ yourusername @/sabrinacarpenter my twin😩🙏
pussinboots no because the chorus of dying on the inside literally had me dying on the inside
↳ suesilvesterforpresident “Beauty is a knife I’ve been holding by the blade, swallowing my pride so i won’t eat anything” - like no, I don’t need my heart anyway, thanks for asking❤️🩹
↳ dwbabe FR
♔꙳⋆ twitter ꙳⋆
♔꙳⋆ instagram ꙳⋆
celebritynews
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celebritynews singer-songwriter y/n y/l/n and actress Madelyn Cline spotted hanging out together, as they leave a coffee shop in our favorite city, new orleans
Follow for more updates❤️
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emiliakm any originals fans here?
↳ lassyinatessi @/emiliakn always🙋♀️
howdoyouspellpink y/n and mads? literally my two worlds colliding omg
turtleneck they look like gossip besties I love it
toadondaroad they’re honestly both so hot of course they’re hanging out
melani.31 oh to get coffee with them😩🙏
ikissedagirl no because that’s literally right around the corner from my apartment?
↳ andilikedit @/ikissedagirl please tell me if you see them, I will cry
madelyncline
liked by madisonbaileybabe, yourusername and 1.738.959 others
madelyncline my two moods when with whiskey
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hannah._. omg mads😭
madisonbaileybabe so proud of you babe!!
yourusername I just watched glass onion and i cannot stop thinking about it, @/madelyncline any idea why that is?
↳ madelyncline @/yourusername wouldn’t have anything to do with a girl named after a delicious alcohol now, would it?
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↳ leafme what. is. going. on??
↳ yourusername @/madelyncline can argue about calling whiskey delicious - the alcohol, that is😉
↳ carolinacreek MA’AM
semmily ARIANA (y/n) WHAT ARE U DOING HERE
madelynclinebabe literally the prettiest girl
♔꙳⋆ twitter ꙳⋆
pt2.
#social media au#madelyn cline imagine#madelyn cline x reader#female reader#madelyn cline#wlw post#yourmomxx#twitter au#instagram au#madelyn cline x fem!reader#singer!reader#sarah cameron#outerbanks imagine#outerbanks x reader#outer banks#whiskey#glass onion#knives out
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“Come hell or high water.” | Dean Winchester x Reader
Summary: Looming over the Winchesters and [Y/N] is the war between heaven and hell. Dean will ultimately be faced with a choice he’d never be able to make. What will happen?
This will be a multi-part story, not necessarily set in a specific season but around 4-5 would be the best fit.
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader
Mentions: Sam Winchester, Castiel, Micheal and Lucifer, Bobby Singer
Warnings: none, will provide for each chapter as they’re written.
Part I:
Michael and Lucifer had both been impatient, each showing up at various times and places—both wanting the same thing; more or less. Each wanted their designated Winchester brother to simply say yes.
Three days earlier.
Sam, Dean and [Y/N] were sat in their shared motel room in New Orleans, Louisiana. Sam was on his laptop, browsing for cases on different news websites. [Y/N] was flipping through the local newspaper to see if anything stuck out in the reports there, but she wasn’t having much luck. Dean was.. well, in true Dean fashion he was chowing down on a burger that he’d brought back from the local diner. “Your food is gonna get cold, or I’m gonna eat it, the entire world isn’t gonna fall apart if you two take a damn break.” Dean spoke, mouth half full of chewed food. Sam sighed and looked over to [Y/N] who finally closed the newspaper. “Fine, you’re right.” He spoke up, closing the laptop that had been in front of him for at least two hours. Turning his attention towards [Y/N] Dean would clear his throat (after having swallowed the mouthful of food) and gently squeezed her shoulder. “C’mon sweetheart you haven’t eaten today.” She’d sigh knowing her boyfriend was right, placing her hand on top of Dean’s and giving it an affectionate squeeze. “Alright, alright. This goddamn newsprint is giving me a headache anyway.” [Y/N] folded the newspaper back up and tossed it onto the table. Grabbing the brown paper bag, she pulled out what would be Sam’s usual and handed it over to the younger brother. She pulled out her own food and carefully unwrapped the burger, quickly picking it up and taking a big bite. Now that everyone was a little more focused on the food, Dean would continue to eat himself.
“I dunno man, everything I’ve seen has been completely normal. It’s like all the evil in the world has gone radio silent.” Taking a bite of his burger, the younger of the Winchester brother was clearly frustrated. “That’s what scares me, when things tend to be normal on the crime side.. it’s never a good sign.” [Y/N] replied, tucking a loose strand of [Y/H/C] hair behind her right ear. “There’s gotta be something, I’m sure we’ll find it but there’s no use finding anything if we aren’t fit to do the job.” Dean spoke up again, verbally nudging the two most important people in his life to continue eating. “All the sons of bitches can’t have just ran into hiding.“ He’d conclude, grabbing the bottle of beer he’d set aside and taking a swig. “It’s just weird, Dean. Normally it doesn’t take us so long to find something to at least check out. There’s nothing online at all that’s raising even a little suspicion.” Sam answered, looking extremely concerned when he locked eyes with his brother. Dean’s eyes were sympathetic and truthfully—he was worried too. Everything both Sam and [Y/N] were saying was true but he also couldn’t afford to let them see any hint of the fear his heart carried. Not only because it made things more real but he was too busy anchoring them, keeping them from spiralling because then they’d be no good to anyone once evil rears its ugly head. [Y/N] finished chewing another bite of food before adding another thought. “I haven’t seen anything local either I mean, that was the third paper I’ve scoured from front to back and everything just seems.. normal. It’s weird.” It took the chiming in of the eldest Winchester to calm the noise of the impending chaos again. “Hey, look, we’ll just take a break and see if anything comes down the pipeline. Right now I need you two to eat before I start force feeding you.” Sam and [Y/N] both looked at each other before chuckling softly and for the first time in the last couple of hours, the stress of it all faded away. Dean was the first to finish his food (no surprise there) and so he silently asked to use Sam’s laptop, the younger brother nodding as he continued to eat. [Y/N] had finished her food, not realizing how hungry she’d actually been. Of course Dean knew because he knew her like the back of his hand, which was why he’d been pushing her especially to eat since he brought it back to the room. She smiled to herself for a moment as her gaze moved to where Dean sat, scrolling on the computer. Those strikingly beautiful green eyes scanning the screen to see if he could find anything to ease the worries of the trio. Sam was of course the final person to finish his food and when he had, [Y/N] began to grab the garbage that had become scattered across the small table in their room. She stuffed everything back into the brown paper bag it came in before throwing it into the trash can. Rubbing at his temples, Sam slowly pushed himself up from his seat. “I’m gonna shower. Let me know if you guys find anything yeah?” He spoke, walking over to his bed and grabbing the go bag with his clothes in it. He saunters towards the bathroom and closes the door, both [Y/N] and Dean heard the door lock. Dean’s eyes moved to look up at his girlfriend with an expression that seemed exhausted. Noticing this, [Y/N] approached the table again, this time taking the chair closest to her green eyed baby. Leaning her head onto his shoulder, he managed a half smile with his gaze moving from the laptop screen to his beautiful lady. Her [Y/H/C] locks framing her face perfectly, not to mention her [Y/E/C] eyes that always brought his soul some peace. Everything about their world was utter chaos with something even worse looming overhead, yet just by looking into her eyes he’d find a calm like he’d never known.
[Y/N] had met the Winchesters as a child, her father one of the many hunters that John had worked with in the hunt for the yellow eyed demon. Unfortunately her father met a cruel fate at the hands of a shifter and that left her alone in the world. Naturally, via the connection, Bobby Singer would end up taking [Y/N] into his home and that’s where she’d spend time with Sam and Dean. Years on end would see them meeting a handful of times and enjoying various activities and days with Bobby while John hunted. Of course when John and Bobby had their big blow up fight, [Y/N] went a while without hearing from the brothers. Dean had gotten in touch a couple years later and kept in touch through texts mostly, which was surprising but [Y/N] wasn’t complaining. Sam would email every once and awhile but it was very sporadic. Which [Y/N] learned years later was because Sam had left hunting and gone to Stanford—basically ignoring the hunting life and everything supernatural. It was actually during this time where Dean and [Y/N] would begin doing hunts together. Off and on of course, sometimes very rarely with John but usually just the two of them. Often times these cases required them to, as they called it, ‘bend the truth’. This involved posing as different forms of authority to gain access to information that they normally wouldn’t have. Many times, both Dean and [Y/N] had to pose as a young couple in love. Newlyweds or happily engaged—various forms of in love, gaining them favor amongst the community or with other authority figures. This went on for months, both seemingly having feelings show themselves but it went undiscussed. Dean wasn’t about flirting with women to get further on a case, which of course [Y/N] hated but she could never really say that. It caused a little tension at times until finally it came to a head on a hunt for witch.
“Dean, will you just stop and listen to me?!” [Y/N] yelled as she followed the man into their shared motel room. Dean remained silent, anger written across his features. [Y/N] huffed out a breath of frustration and ran her hand through her [Y/H/C] hair and looking toward the eldest Winchester boy. “Dean.” She tried speaking again, yet he still ignored her and aggressively unzipped his go bag. Sifting through its contents he was looking for something, growing more irritated when he couldn’t find it. “What are you looking for?” [Y/N] asked, there was more silence for a second before he finally spoke. “Credit card.” Straight to the point and with a tone that had [Y/N]’s eyes rolling. “You told me to put it in my bag because your wallet needed to get fixed.” She replied, dipping her hand into her bag she’d pull her wallet out and slipping the card into her hand. She’d slowly walk over to Dean and tossed the card onto the bed. This time it was his turn to sigh before turning towards [Y/N]. “Look, I’m sorry. I don’t know why I lost my temper, what you do is none of my business.” He said, which seemed genuine for the most part. “I just am lost, I don’t react like that when you flirt with a girl to get information or a bump in the line to meet with someone.” She spoke, though she mumbled under her breath. “Even though I want to..” Dean heard her and felt a sense of confusion wash over him. “Why would you.. [Y/N] why would you want to get mad over that?” Dean’s eyes had found themselves locked onto [Y/N]’s, waiting for her to answer. Throwing her hands up in frustration [Y/N] shouted. “For the exact same reason that you got mad today and punched the receptionist in the face, Dean! You and I obviously have feelings for one another but we don’t talk about them so we just circle the never ending drain of getting jealous and sad and mad in secret and letting it build up!” Immediately after the words had left her mouth she gasped and covered it with her hands. Dean was just as shocked as [Y/N] seemed to be, frozen just staring in her eyes. Moments later after pure silence, Dean turned around and drug his hand across his face. “Dean..” [Y/N] spoke, her tone much softer than it was moments ago. She took a step forward and slowly placed a hand on his shoulder, lightly gripping it. Dean turned with a quickness and crashed his lips against [Y/N]’s while his hand came up to cup her face. Naturally she was stunned, but began to kiss him back.
Ever since that day, due to some kind of truth hex, Dean and [Y/N] had been inseparable. It was the one good thing in Dean’s eyes that came from dealing with a witch. Moving his finger along the touchpad of the laptop, he’d close the website he was on and look up another. There had to be something somewhere.. there just had to be. “Should I get back on the papers?” [Y/N]’s voice broke the longstanding silence that had hovered over them. Dean pulled another half smile before turning and pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head. “No sweetheart, it’s alright. I don’t think there’s anything in ‘em. You’d have found something by now if there was.” His gaze again fixated on the computer, scrolling through masses of crimes being reported. He was about to scroll again, but something caught his eye and he needed to reread the blurb. “Wait a minute..” he spoke in a soft tone, causing [Y/N] to sit up. “Did you find something?” She asked, looking at the screen now too. “Not sure, maybe.” He replied, clicking a link that brought up a fuller article. “Well I’ll be damned.. this one might be vamps. Animal attacks, puncture marks on the necks.. hell there’s nothing else remotely sticking out so I think it’s worth the drive.” Dean added, the lock on the bathroom door clicking open and soon enough the younger Winchester came back into the main room. Steam came flowing from the bathroom as Sam continued to dry his hair. “Hey Sammy, think we got something.” [Y/N] spoke with a soft tone and there was a look of relief on his face. “Wha.. where?” Sam asked, looking at his brother. “Tucson.” Dean answered, turning the laptop around so that his younger brother could look at the article himself. Now [Y/N] was the one pushing herself from her seat. “Hopefully you didn’t use all the shampoo and the hot water.” She joked, making her way to the bathroom in order to shower.
After everyone had showered and changed into their pyjamas, the trio had settled down for the evening. It didn’t take long for quiet snores to be heard from Sam’s bed, his back turned towards the couple who were sharing the other bed. “I’m glad we found a case, but I still don’t have a good feeling about this..” [Y/N] spoke, keeping her tone on the quieter side as to not wake up the younger Winchester. She was snuggled into Dean’s side with her arm draped across his lower abdomen and her head on his chest. Dean pressed a kiss to her temple before sighing in a low manner himself. “I don’t either, it’s bugging me but we can’t just ignore the situation on feelings.” He spoke, his own tone mirroring hers in keeping on that quieter side and both sighed. “It just feels like this case fell into our laps and it feels like it’s a trap, but I can’t pinpoint from who or why.” She aimlessly began drawing shapes on the end of Dean’s T-shirt and he could see that his off feeling wasn’t as strong as the one that [Y/N] was having—she only drew shapes in that manner to calm her mind down. “Hey [Y/N/N], something’s really bugging you about this.. what is it?” He asked, gently turning her chin upward so [Y/N] would meet his gaze. [Y/E/C] hues met the beautiful green eyes that Dean had, searching them for something. “I wish I knew. Dean, it just feels.. too easy. There was nothing for what? Two days? Now all of a sudden there’s one solitary case and we’re supposed to believe this isn’t a set up? It’s not making sense. I know we can’t just ignore a possible case, but it just feels like something is going on and nothing good.” [Y/N] sighed again, knowing that so many things were up in the air right now and so many things couldn’t be resolved in quick manner. “Maybe we’ll pray to Cas tomorrow, either before we leave or while we’re driving. See if he knows anything.” Dean offered, squeezing [Y/N] and bringing her closer to his body. “Yeah, okay. Sounds good.” She replied, snuggling into her boyfriend and slowly closing her eyes. Dean himself would adjust the covers and slowly close his eyes. “Goodnight, D.” [Y/N] whispered. “Goodnight, [Y/N/N].” He whispered back.
#dean winchester x reader#dean x reader#dean winchester#supernatural#fanfic#Dean Winchester imagines#spn#spn imagines
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Someone In Your Corner
Summary: Hangman, struggling to deal with his nightmares after the mission, goes for a run in the California heat. When he gets himself into trouble he finds a surprising ally on his side.
Aka if Maverick is MavDad meet DaggerMom
Hey look, yet another Jake Seresin Whump/Angst fic….. also known as the only thing I know how to write lol! Enjoy!
Two week after the Uranium mission and Jake "Hangman" Seresin was struggling. The Navy had given them all a month's worth of leave, a ridiculously long time in Jake's opinion but extremely sought after for all the others. There was a mandatory week of debriefs and discussions, most of which Jake hovered in the back and only answered when he was addressed directly, but then they were free to go. The whole squadron seemed to have gotten plane tickets to head back home, the suicide mission making a lot of them place things in new perspective. Jake of course would rather perform ten suicide missions than even think about going home to Texas. Javy had invited him back to New Orleans with him and his family but Jake declined. He loved the Machados; he spent enough holidays over there to think of them as the closest thing he'd ever get to a real family, but he knew Javy was still shaken up from his G-Loc incident and the mission in general. He deserved a chance to decompress with his loved ones instead of trying to entertain Jake.
So Jake waved his best friend off at the airport on the third day after the start of their official leave and went back to the barracks to find a notice on his door. It seemed that the temporary living quarters they were supplied for training was being revoked now that everything was over. Jake had vaguely heard one of the others talking about it at the bar but he didn't realize it applied to those that weren't going home as well. He assumed he would be allowed to hang around base, maybe convince Admiral Simpson (or at least the more agreeable Admiral Bates) to let him jump into a few hops to keep his skills sharp. Those plans were scrapped though as both Admirals informed him in no uncertain terms that none of the Daggers would be allowed back in the air until they were given the all clear from both medical and psych. Jake was already cleared on the medical end but all psych evals were to be conducted after the team returned from leave. He wanted to push to get his moved up but Cyclone only gave him that un-amused look that he usually reserved for Maverick, and Jake figured it wasn't worth the fight (he was still on shaky ground for disobeying direct orders on the carrier that day- and for getting the rest of the flight crew to go along with him).
So now not only was Jake alone on North Island, he was also forced to find new housing. With no real other options, he checked into a random motel that was far from luxurious with its outdated decor and questionable activities for it's by the hour patrons. Jake found he didn't mind though as long as he used his own sheets. Also besides a few quick visitors a few doors down, Jake was virtually on his own in his section. This was a huge benefit for the blonde pilot as he found himself dealing with an added difficulty now that the mission was over: debilitating nightmares.
It was embarrassing for him to admit but Jake had always struggled with nightmares. As a child in an abusive household he was always so tense and on edge, especially at night after his father had had a couple of drinks in him, that he found his dreams were filled with running away from monsters that looked vaguely like his parents until he woke up screaming. After receiving punishments for waking anyone up with his pathetic cries, Jake learned to muffle his terror to much quieter levels, though the nightmares always held a grip on him for those formable years. As he got older and into his teen years, Jake's real world seemed to be worse than any dream ever could be and sadly that was what quashed his night terrors for a few years at least. When he left home and joined the Navy he felt freer than he ever had in the world and he finally learned what the term 'sleep like a baby' really meant.
It didn't last for long though because after his first confirmed kill, Jake's nightmares came back. He was forever dreaming of being back in his plane, sometimes shooting down the Bogey, other times the Bogey catching him first. He had nightmares where he shot his wingman down instead, his whole squadron condemning him for the action. Other times it would be his squad shot him down because they were protecting themselves from Hangman leaving them like his call-sign dictated. These dreams circled through Jake's sleep cycle for weeks until Javy caught on before he was sent to ship out again and noticed the dark bags under his best friend's eyes. Though Javy knew better than to push Jake towards any sort of professional therapy from the Navy that could ultimately keep him grounded, he did force his best friend to talk to him more about what was troubling him and to find healthy outlets for his anxiety, fear, and guilt. Jake's favorite method became running.
Jake already enjoyed running from when he was a kid and needed an escape at home so using it to relax from work stress as well came fairly easy. He took to jogging around bases in the morning, night or whenever he just felt a little overwhelmed. Javy would join him if he was able, though normally he cut out about half the miles while jokingly calling Jake a robot for being able to run so much. It was therapeutic and it worked, especially when he ran at night, as Jake felt his body become so tired he went off to sleep without any dreams at all.
But then this mission happened.
First it was Coyote's G-loc; the sounds of Maverick trying to stir his best friend back to consciousness before he crashed into a mountain staying with Jake even during waking hours. In dreams it was worse, Maverick never getting tone in time, Coyote's scream over the radio before he burned up in his jet. Jake would wake up each time with tears in his eyes and would struggle to not call his best friend right there and then. Jake also dreamed of the bird strike. Though he pretended to be indifferent, he really did care about Phoenix, she was one of his oldest friends, dating back to his Flight School days. That nightmarish day, after being so close to losing Javy, to then hear her and Bob forced to eject, it broke something in Jake. His dreams featured the two not ejecting in time, or sometimes different pilots were up there but with the same results. The worst nightmare was when Jake was in the air with them and he listened to Phoenix scream at him that because he left them hanging, the birds hit their plane instead of his. Both Bob and Phoenix's last words were wishing it was Jake instead. Maverick would share the sentiment on the radio as the two planes watched the other go down. When Jake woke from that particular dream, he usually felt so gutted all he could do was sit up in silence.
There were moments from the actual mission that attributed to his night terrors as well of course. First it was Dagger one going down, the others blaming Jake for not being good enough that Maverick had to take the spot of team leader to ensure the others survived and therefore sacrificed himself. Then he would hear Dagger Two going down and there was the guilt of having Bradshaw die after all the mean things Jake had said and done to him. But the worst was Jake's rescue of Maverick and Rooster. Jake couldn't count the times he would close his eyes (both awake and asleep) and see the damn missile that was headed right for that old F-14. He never told anyone outside of his debriefs with the Admirals but that missile was shot and deployed and not even seconds away from killing both Captain Mitchell and Bradshaw. He had had no time to spare.
Every night during the week of debriefs Jake would dream of being too late, of watching that missile kill his CO and his wingman in a fiery blaze as bright as the sun. Jake would be forced to call on the radio that he hadn’t reached them in time, would land on the carrier not to celebration and hugs but dirty looks and tears. One night the nightmare was so bad, felt so real, that Jake actually called Rooster just to hear his voice. The groggy other pilot thought it was some kind of joke and didn't respond incredibly kind but Jake hung up the phone with tears of relief in his eyes anyway. He would take a sarcastic Rooster over a dead one any day.
Last night Jake dreamed of the man he shot down. His second confirmed kill but it wasn't any easier. He dreamed of the man's family, his children growing up fatherless like Rooster did. A whole family lineage cursing him for taking away the man they loved most. When he woke up Jake only had a few seconds before he was puking in his toilet, no chance of falling back to sleep again. His count of hours slept in the week at a sickening level. He knew he should be worried, knew that he should address his problems with someone but everyone else was dealing and he didn’t understand how he couldn’t. He wasn’t one of the Daggers, he wasn’t the one completing the suicide course. He didn’t go into G-Loc or get hit with a bird strike. He wasn’t shot down and he wasn’t stuck behind enemy lines and scrambling to get home. Jake was just the spare; sure he had a lucky shot, but he did nothing more. He didn’t deserve to bother anyone with his lack of sleeping. He would get it sorted, just like he always did.
As the day progressed and Jake's lids got heavier he thought about his techniques to combat his nightmares in the past and looked for his running gear. He hoped to kill two birds with one stone, run enough to clear his mind but also to make himself so exhausted he would fall asleep right away. The pilot put on his sneakers and reached for headphones before heading out the door. He knew it was going to be hot but the minute he was outside he felt like a wall of humidity was surrounding him. It wasn't the ideal running conditions but Jake grew up in Texas where heat was a part of everyday life. He threw off his shirt knowing it would be soaked in a second and headed out.
—————————————————————————-
Penny Benjamin wiped another hand across her brow as she turned to another box. She knew she shouldn't have chosen Tuesday to do inventory especially when the weather forecasts all called for the height of the heat wave to hit, yet here she was sweating in the back rooms of the Hard Deck anyway. She wished Maverick was around to help, though he was abnormally chaotic in a tight setting, at least the man could have helped with the lifting. Pete however, had taken Bradley for a 'getting re-acquainted trip' aka a 'get our crap together' trip up in Northern California. Penny was so happy to see the two trying to make things right and she knew it meant the world to Pete.
It did leave her alone though and with all the other pilots of the squadron gone on leave and Amelia visiting her father, Penny hated the quiet. Even doing normal chores around the bar made her ache for the loud and boisterous group she had grown to love. She hoped they were at least all trying to heal like Maverick and Rooster. She wasn't given all the details from the mission but she knew there were a lot of close calls and that for everyone to return was lucky, bordering on miraculous. Penny felt lucky herself every time she got to see Pete's smile again.
As the morning progressed and the heat got too much Penny opted to go over some sales numbers and to save the inventory for later. Grabbing her books, she headed for her usual table outside, the umbrella giving only the most miniscule relief from the heat.
She looked up as she watched a man run on the beach. He looked vaguely familiar but it wasn't until he was a bit closer that Penny realized it was Hangman. She had been surprised this morning when she saw the man arrive at the beach to run. She had assumed Hangman like all the others had gone away for leave. Clearly this wasn’t the case as the pilot putt his ear pods in and started his jog just as she first opened up to do inventory. Penny glanced at her watch and saw it was close to an hour later then since she had first arrived, and yet Hangman was still running. A hint of worry bubbled in her stomach but she learned that Top Gun pilots tended to be work-out fanatics, Hangman no exception.
As the man neared, Penny raised her hand, "Hangman!" she called but she wasn't surprised when the man kept running, no doubt lost in his music and training. She watched him for a minute, not immune to admit that the sight of the muscular shirtless blonde running along the beach wasn't the worst thing she's laid her eyes on. She shook her head at her silliness and turned back to her sales book figuring she would chastise the man for ignoring her later when he came in for some beers tonight.
Thirty minutes later the same figured appeared for the third time since she sat outside and Penny's brow furrowed. She knew Hangman liked to run but this was getting a bit excessive. She was familiar with his two mile loop, she had walked it with Amelia many times herself, but never this many times, nor in this kind of heat. When she included the time she was in the basement, she knew Jake was running much more than was normal or healthy on a day like today. It was nearing noon, the heat for the day was at its worse and she had heard an air quality alert on the news this morning. Jake ran with no water bottle, no shirt and if she had to guess no sunscreen. He just ran, and ran, and ran.
Perhaps it was the mother in her or perhaps it was just the concern for a pilot she had grown to care about over the years, but Penny refused to let Hangman run past again without at least taking a little respite. She stood herself up from the table and headed towards the sand, waving a bit to not startle the runner. As she got closer she noticed Hangman's gait was off, he seemed to be listing to the side with each step. Her concern mounting, Penny hurried forward a little faster, her heart dropping when she noticed Jake had started to stagger. "Hangman you alright?" the barmaid hollered, but instead of a verbal response Jake fell to one knee. "Jake!" Penny called as she watched the blonde collapse complete to the ground. He landed face first in the sand and the older woman felt herself fall next to him, a gentle hand reaching for his shoulder to help roll him over.
The man lying before her looked so far from the Hangman she knew that Penny gasped. Jake's normally lively green eyes were closed, his skin pale and his breath raspy. She gently nudged his face, trying to stir some kind of reaction and felt her heart relax a fraction when Jake gave a low groan and took a wobbling hand to brush hers away.
"Hey Hangman you with me?" she tapped his cheek again, worry increasing when she felt how warm his body was and yet she didn't notice much sweat on his body. Familiar with signs of overheating but in no way a doctor, Penny looked back towards the Hard Deck and hoped to see someone around that could help her. Unfortunately it seemed they were alone. She turned back to the blonde and saw his eyes were still closed though his body seemed to want to move. “Jake honey, can you hear me?” she asked again.
“P-Penny?” Jake murmured and finally those green eyes were open if barely past slits. He seemed to take a good look at the woman leaning over him before all the rest of the color in Hangman’s face disappeared and he rolled over to his side. As he retched out what Penny disgustingly assumed was his breakfast, she tried to run a soothing hand over his back but again she faltered at how hot his body temperature seemed to be. She reached to pull him back to face her carefully, allowing his back to land back in a clean portion of sand before trying to meet his eyes, “Jake, you with me? Are you alright?”
“Y-yeah, yeah” he didn’t sound convincing, “’ll good.”
“I think you’re overheated, I need to get you inside.”
“No-“ he shook his head weakly, his voice low and gravelly, “-m fine…. Just-… just overdid it a bit. ”
Penny moved to brush back his damp hair from where it was plastered with sand to his forehead, “You really over did it, okay” she tried to give a reassuring smile but her concern was too great and it became more of a grimace, “you need to get out of this sun and get some water in you. You think you can stand?”
It didn’t look like Jake would be moving any time soon but when Penny gave him a small pull the pilot managed to follow the momentum enough to get himself standing. It wasn’t pretty and Hangman looked ready to puke again at least three different times, but he held it in and allowed Penny to throw his arm around her shoulders. The two took a moment to gain their balance before they started with small and slow steps all the way back to the Hard Deck.
The walk was long and tedious. With each step that they got closer Jake’s movements got sloppier and the weight Penny had to support seemed to double. When she finally got him inside, Penny deposited Jake to the nearest booth and ran for a cold water bottle and some towels. She ran them under the coldest water she could get and started to place them over Jake’s chest, his neck and his forehead. The man didn’t even flinch. “Keep those there” Penny ordered as she moved to grab more water bottles, “and take small sips of water.”
Jake tried to follow orders but when he moved his hands to open the bottle, they were shaking so bad he dropped it. He went to get his body to pick it up but instead he slid down to the floor, his back against the table’s leg. Penny heard the commotion and came running, finding the pilot out of it and on the floor of her bar. “Jesus Jake, I think we need to get you to the hospital” she told him, “This is way worse than over heating-“
“No” Jake shook his head, his eyes unfocused, “’m –ok-“
“Honey” she got him standing again, “no you’re not. Hang on, take a seat for a minute and let me get my keys. I have to lock up the basement and then I will take you.” She led him back towards the booths but didn’t wait for him to sit, instead running to her bag and car keys.
Meanwhile the blonde had teetered after her, following towards the bar and knocking over a stool followed by another, "shit” he cursed, “’m sorry. Y-you can just call m’ an uber" Jake slurred softly, now leaning heavily against the bar, “’t’s no bother.”
"Absolutely not, and I said to sit Jake" she ordered, manhandling him towards the booths, "sit before you collapse again."
"'M -fine-"
"No you're really not." Her eyes must have shown her anger and concern because Jake seemed to melt into the cushion of the seats. Penny gave a nod and then ran to lock up her basement door and lock the inventory room. When she got back to the bar she noticed Jake’s head was leaning down on the table. “Hangman?” she questioned, but the man didn’t stir, “Jake?” When she still got no answer, she hurried over and took one of the water bottles, emptying it over the man’s head in a frantic shake, “Lieutenant Seresin!” she yelled and was luckily awarded with a dazed Jake shaking his wet hair out in confusion. “-enny?” he murmured sleepily, “did it rain?”
“Something like that” Penny lied, moving to grab the man out of the booth once more and get him towards the exit, “now come on honey, we’re going to the hospital.”
“-Don’’ feel so g-good.”
“I know, but we’re going to get you all fixed up” she promised silently praying that she could deliver on such a statement. If she was honest with herself Jake’s condition was really starting to frighten her. He collapsed three times already, he threw up on the beach and his body temperature was frightening high. She had tried cold compresses but they didn’t seem to make a difference. He was incoherent and confused; his body a shaky and unstable mess when he was normally frighteningly in control.
They got to Penny’s car quickly; fortunately she parked in the closet spot this morning. She helped lay Jake out along the back seat, sparing a second to take a hand to his forehead where she still felt the heat radiating off his skin. She pursed her lips but didn’t say anything, instead starting her car and cranking the A/C, hoping that it would help cool the pilot down.
For the first few minutes of the ride, Jake stayed silent and if it weren’t for Penny looking towards him in the rear view mirror every few seconds she would have thought he was unconscious or worse. Instead she watched as the man took shallow wheezy breaths, praying they get to the hospital quickly so he could get real help.
After a few more minutes of silence, Penny heard what sounded like a throat clearing in the back seat. Jake’s voice sounded fractured when he finally spoke up, "'why-you helpin' me?" he whispered from the back, 'm a bad person. A bad person with no one left.”
"No you're not honey" Penny immediately argued back, watching as Hangman’s eyes closed and his face scrunched up in pain, "you're a good person. I know that and so do the others."
"Asshole to them.... always a jerk..."
"I think they've started to see all that for what it is.” And she really believed that. The Hangman that strutted around the Hard Deck all these years was a show, meant for entertainment and for keeping people at arm’s length. Penny, no stranger at pushing people away herself, could recognize the signs easily though she knew it took the others a while to see. “You earned your teammates’ trust” she continued with what she hoped sounded reassuring. Jake didn’t seem to react to the words though, so Penny tried to push a bit more remembering what Maverick had told her the night he returned after the boat docked, about how Jake had saved his life, “you showed them the true Jake Seresin during the mission. They see it now.”
“They all left, ‘m alone again.”
“You’re not alone sweetheart”
“I should be, ‘ve killed people” Jake announced next and in the driver’s seat Penny stilled. It’s not that she doesn’t know this fact, she’s heard Hangman address it before but hearing Jake speak the words so matter of factly while he himself was so broken, exhausted and barely conscious, Penny’s heart clenched. “You were just doing your job, Jake, it’s different.”
“No” he shook his head minutely, “’t’s not.” He sniffed back what sounded like a sob, “can’t sleep, just see it again and again… All my mistakes... all the early graves… all my fault.”
“Nothing was your fault Jake, you saved lives that day. You saved Maverick and Rooster-“
“see them die every night…. ‘m pathetic-“
“No you’re not, you’re so brave honey” she felt a tear fall down her cheek as Jake let out another raspy sob, “so, so brave.”
“’ can’t even sleep anymore” Jake moaned, “just wanna sleep-“
“We can get you help for that” she urged, “there are people that can help-“
“No one can ‘elp me” his head lulled to the side, “I…can’t be fixed.”
There was so much Penny wished to say, so much she wished to correct but before she got the chance she was pulling into the emergency driveway entrance of the hospital and screeching her brakes to a halt behind an empty ambulance. “Please!” Penny hollered from her window at the two paramedics heading out the exit doors. Both stopped and looked her way, “please I need help” she urged to them.
The two women hurried forward, following Penny’s directions to the back seat, “he’s in rough shape, can you help me get him inside?”
“I’ll get the backboard and gurney” the younger of the medics announced, running back to her rig. When she returned the three women were able to lift Jake up and onto it, the two medical professionals beginning to wheel him inside, Penny hot on their heels.
“Ma’am you can’t leave your car here” the security guard tried but Penny ignored it and just continued to follow the gurney wheeling Hangman further into the hospital. Getting a ticket was the least of her worries, even getting towed. All she cared about was making sure the blonde pilot in that bed got the care he needed.
She followed them through into the emergency room where Jake was taken into a corner make-shift room with curtains closing it off. A nurse started asking Penny questions about Jake’s age, medical history, and if he had any allergies. She tried to answer to the best of her abilities but the truth was she didn’t really know. Jake Seresin had been coming to the bar for years but Penny couldn’t even tell the hospital if he was allergic to peanuts yet alone any medication he was on; she just never bothered to get to know him that well. She vowed if they got through this debacle, she would find out, resolved to pester Jake with so many questions he would have no choice but to tell her everything. She looked forward to it with a spark of hope.
Suddenly an older man came forward from the other side of the curtain, ripping it open with an intern on his heels, “What do we have?” he asked, not looking away from his patient on the bed.
“32 year old white male, fading in and out of consciousness, feels excessively warm to the touch-“
The doctor sighed and put on his glasses, his thinning hair reflecting the light as he knelt down on his work stool, and started to lightly examine Jake’s face and chest, “what’s his name?”
When no one else replied Penny realized the question was addressed to her. She swallowed her nerves, “Lieutenant Jake Seresin” she told him.
“Navy?”
“A Navy pilot, yes.”
“Why did you bring him here, shouldn’t he be on base?”
Penny shrugged, realizing she never even thought about taking Jake back to North Island, her mind just drove them to the first hospital she could think of, “this was closer” she explained instead.
The doctor hummed but continued his examination, “okay Lieutenant can you hear me?” when the blonde gave no response, the doctor turned to one of the nurses, “get me a temperature reading now” he ordered.
“Right away Doctor” and the nurse hurried to get the thermometer.
“What happened to him?” the ER doctor asked, shining a pen light as he used a hand to hold open Jake’s eye lid.
“He collapsed on the beach,” Penny supplied dutifully, still watching with what felt like a heavy weight on her chest, “he had been running and I think he might have over heated-“
“In this heat, I’m not surprised. Order a toxicology report, I don’t like his pupil dilation.”
Penny felt her temper flare, “He wasn’t drinking” she shot back, “he’s exhausted.”
“Let’s take the family out of the room-“ the doctor also added, rolling his eyes to his staff. As a nurse went to remove her, Penny listened as another rattled off Jake’s temperature. The minute his nurse was done saying 105 degrees, the ER doctor began sprouting commands, his voice a lot more concerned and worried than it were not two minutes ago. Penny knew 105 was dangerous, even deadly, but seeing doctors and nurses run in frantically made the woman more scared than she could ever remember being in her life. A curtain was pulled and her view was gone, and Penny felt her heart stutter as she wondered if that was to be the last time she would ever see Jake again. What if he died? What if she was too late getting him help, waited too long in the bar locking up a damn inventory closet when she should have been calling an ambulance and getting the poor man help. Her legs buckled for a moment but the nurse at her side kept a strong hand on her arm that kept her standing. “Here we go” the nurse told her steering her to the nurses’ station, “Fran” she called and one nurse was replaced with a different one as Penny was handed off once more.
“Okay” the nurse named Fran began, an iPad in her hand and glasses on her kind face, “let’s begin. Patient’s name was what again?”
“Lieutenant Jake Seresin.”
“Age?”
“32.”
“Occupation?”
“Naval Pilot.”
She typed faster, then opened her mouth to ask more but Penny beat her too it, "please" she begged, "is he going to be alright?"
Fran seemed to scrutinize her for a moment, his brown eyes boring into Penny over her glasses, “What is your relation to him again?" she questioned.
Penny stuttered for a moment, but then found her confidence, "I'm- I'm his aunt” she declared daring someone to disagree. The nurse didn’t argue, just typed something on her iPad, “and your name?”
“Penny Benjamin.”
Fran nodded and motioned towards the waiting room, “okay Ms. Benjamin, take a seat and I’ll send a doctor to talk once he finishes his evaluations.”
"But can’t I go back in?“
“You’ve done everything you could for the Lieutenant; now leave it to the doctors.” Fran placed a comforting hand to her arm and squeezed gently, “your nephew is in good hands.”
“What if I didn’t do enough, I tried to put cold compresses, and the water, but he could even grip it properly and I never made him drink-“
“Shhh” the kind woman placated her, “I’ll let the doctors know. I’m sure they will put him on fluids right away, you just sit here.”
“T-Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, I’ll be back later.”
Penny watched her go, falling into the hard waiting room chair and taking her head into her hands. She wanted to scream in frustration and worry, but she knew that wouldn’t help Jake. Instead she closed her eyes and focused on her breathing.
A hand on her arm a few minutes later made her jump. She looked up; expecting a doctor or nurse but finding herself staring at the same security guard she had run past before. The man looked sheepish, clearly feeling guilty for startling her. Penny pulled her fingers through her long brown hair to try to look even a semblance of normal but the security guard didn’t seem to judge. “Ma’am” he began, “I’m sorry to bug you but I really need you to move your car, we got ambulances that need to unload in those spaces and you’re blocking them.”
She looked back at him, her face reddening in mortification; she had completely forgotten about the car she had left parked in the emergency entrance. “I’m so sorry, Sir, I was so panicked before-“
He shook off her apology, “believe me I’ve seen it a million times before. Just move it now and we can both pretend it didn’t happen. I know you got more important things to worry about.” He offered a hand to help her standing and Penny took it gratefully, rising from the chair and heading to the automatic doors leading outside.
Penny moved her car like directed and then took back her seat in the waiting room. She noticed others sitting around, none paying her much attention, everyone lost in their own worlds of worry and fear.
This was why she hated hospitals, especially waiting rooms. It was a place where time simultaneously stood still and yet rushed by. People waited in agony over people in actually agony. Some people were here for last goodbyes while others welcomed new lives into the world. It was a place of overstimulation and over emotion and yet Penny couldn’t imagine herself being anywhere else at the moment. She would wait here as long as it took until she knew Jake would be okay.
About an hour later, a tall man approached the nurse’s station and Penny watched as he was directed to her. "Ms Benjamin?" the dark haired doctor called dressed in scrubs, "my name is Doctor Rask,” he held out a hand for Penny to shake, her grip lacking from her fear, “I’m your nephew's doctor” he told her soothingly.
"Hi" Penny breathed out, trying to control her nerves, "how's Jake?" she asked after no preamble.
If he thought she was rude the doctor didn't comment, instead he went right into Jake's diagnosis. "Lieutenant Seresin has a severe case of hyperthermia, more specifically heat stroke. His body temperature was 105 when you brought him in and that was with the cooling methods you tried to do prior. With a body temp that high our biggest concern is always going to be organ failure."
Penny clutched her hands into fists; the feeling of her nails in her palms the only thing keeping her together. She focused on the slight pain as she struggled to find her voice, "did he-... is his organs... are they okay?"
"He is extremely lucky” the doctor explained, “We don't see any evidence of organ failure but we will monitor him closely for the next few hours to be sure."
"That's- that's good news."
Dr. Rask spared her a comforting look, "it is, especially with how overheated he was but he's not out of the woods yet. Lieutenant Seresin was also severely dehydrated and extremely exhausted. His fine motor skills were so impaired upon admission that the ER doctor ordered a toxicology report because he was convinced Lieutenant Seresin must have been drunk. He wasn't of course but the Lieutenant admitted to being unable to supply the last time he had a full night's sleep."
Penny sighed, "he just got back from a serious mission Doctor Rask, it affective him deeply-"
"I understand," the doctor cut in gently, "and believe me I'm sympathetic but I suggest he find someone to talk to about this. He is beyond normal exhaustion levels which is extremely dangerous, not only in his profession but in all matters of his life."
"I agree. I plan on reaching out to his CO to discuss this as well."
The doctor softened, "we can also recommend people for him to talk to if he didn't want to go through the Navy. My father served and I know firsthand how people can be hesitant to show weakness to their superiors. It’s dangerous and they end up denying themselves the opportunity to get proper help."
"Thank you, I worry about that as well but I can promise you I will personally make sure Jake gets the help he needs, even if I have to drag him myself."
"He's lucky to have you" Doctor Rask shared with a smile.
Penny shook her head, her eyes falling to the floor, “I don't know about that” she admitted softly.
"I do” the doctor told her kindly, “You saved his life getting him in here so quickly."
"So he will be okay?"
"Well like I said before his organs look undamaged which is the best news for his case. He is still on cooling pads right now as we try to lower his temperature safely. We also have him on multiple IVs to increase his fluids and nutrients."
It certainly didn’t sound like he was okay but Penny took the doctor’s calm attitude as a good sign. Still she would only feel better once she could see Jake with her own eyes, "Is he awake?" she asked ready to run to his room if she found out he was.
Doctor Rask shook his head, "we gave him a small sedative which I would normally be against but Lieutenant Seresin was very restless in the room from the over exhaustion. I feared he would tax himself further. It should wear off in a few hours but he will be exceptionally groggy. Do to the severity of the heat stroke and the strain on his body; I want to keep him overnight for observations."
"Can I see him?"
"I would prefer not if I'm honest” he managed a sympathetic look when he noticed her face fall. “It's important for him to stay resting. In his heightened state and with the weak sedation, any disruption could cause him to wake before he's ready and that's the last thing he needs. Rest is his best medication at this point."
"I understand" and she did, no matter how much it broke her heart to think of Jake waking up alone in the hospital.
"If you leave your info with the nurse, I'll call you personally when he wakes, or any other member of his family."
He doesn't think he has any family, Penny's mind automatically corrected but she didn't bother saying it out loud. Besides, she learned many years ago that family went far beyond blood no matter what the medical world said. "Thank you Doctor, for everything."
"My pleasure and make sure Lieutenant Seresin thanks you as well. Like I said before, you saved your nephew's life today Ms. Benjamin, a few more minutes out there and we would be having a very different conversation."
She shuddered but gave her thanks anyway before turning back to her waiting room seat. She knew she had hours to kill before Jake would be up and she could see him so Penny took out her phone and scrolled to Pete’s name. She knew she needed to call the man, knew that the minute he heard something was wrong with one of his pilots he would want to be informed and be there. She wondered for a moment if perhaps she was overstepping until she remember Jake’s sad words in the car. This was a man who thought he was alone in the world and even worse, he thought he deserved to be alone in the world. He thought of himself as a killer for doing his job and pathetic for not being to handle his emotions and his PTSD properly. His hyperthermia would be treated but Penny knew that Jake Seresin had a much longer road to recovery once he was discharged from the hospital. Penny knew that she, Maverick, Rooster and the rest of the Daggers would be there for him every step of the way. They were a family now and that’s what family does.
Her mind made up, Penny hit the call button and brought the phone up to her ear, ready to call on the reinforcements.
#top gun maverick#glen powell#jake seresin#top gun hangman#top gun#top gun fanfiction#maverick#top gun movie#penny benjamin#dagger squad#daggermom#mavdad#pete maverick mitchell#jake seresin fanfiction#whump#jake seresin whump#jake hangman seresin#penny benjamin cares for her Daggers#just lots and lots of angst#hurt/comfort
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Never To Plan
Klaus Mikaelson!Father X Son!Reader Damon Salvatore X Male!Reader
Word Count: 1069
Requested: @emaz-0225
Request: Hello I love your work but can you do a imagine where your the son of Katherine and Klaus and your just like them and your best friend is Kai Parker and your trying to get him out of the Prison World. You come into Mystic Falls and you See your old friend Stefan Dating your moms look alike and you fall for Damon and you guys start dating. Klaus comes into town and your thrown into WWW 3 so you go to Europe and then called back to the drama when Hayley is pregnant and you get along with Josh and Hayley and Davina but when Hope is born you sacrifice yourself to The crazy Aunt but you find out Damon is with Elena now and you turn off your emotions
You had come to Mystic Falls in search of a way to get your friend out of the Prison World but you ended up getting a little side tracked with Damon Salvatore catching your attention your plan stopped dead in it’s tracks, well kind of, you were still looking for ways to get him out but you were hitting more roadblocks then you wanted. That being said the real problem was your father, you were thrown into a fight you wanted no part in and so with no way to save both sides you take a step back and instead go to Europe in hopes of getting your search for Kai back on track and finding what you had really travelled all this time for.
That was how you found yourself in a small cafe in the east of London on the phone to your father who was in New Orleans “well what a surprise, I didn’t expect to hear from you.” You said as you answered the call.
“I need your help.” He said.
“Is that so?” You asked, taking a sip of the hot drink in front of you as you winked at the waitress who brought it over.
“You have a sister.” He said.
“You know that doesn’t surprise me.” You mumbled, you could feel his glare from across the sea.
“What does that mean?” He asked.
“We both know what that means.” You shuffled in your seat “what does your daughter have to do with me? What do you suddenly need your estranged son for?”
“I need to show someone what a true king looks like and what his prince is capable of.” Klaus answered.
“This king is you?” You downed the last of the drink before nodding in thanks to the girl who had served you before standing up.
“And you, the prince.” Klaus confirmed.
“No need to flatter me your highness, I know I’m only a prince in name.” You said as you walked back to the hotel that you were staying in.
“Then prove to them that you are not.” He hung up the phone after that.
When you got to New Orleans a lot had already happened but the only thing that you did know was that it was that your father offered you a chance to make a mess and you had been bored for a few months now. “So you’re Marcellus, correct?” You asked as you looked at the man standing in the middle of the courtyard.
“Who are you?” He asked.
“(Y/N).” Rebekah said from her place next to Marcel.
“Auntie Bekah, don’t tell me you’d abandon your family for a man?” You teased as you stepped closer.
“He thinks that you would be enough to beat every vampire in this city?” Marcel asked, drawing your attention back to him.
“Sunshine, I was born better than any vampire, werewolf or witch that you can throw at me but please do try.” You smirked “where are your forces anyway I’m itching to snap a neck and if it’s not them it will be you.” Someone grabbed you from behind, throwing you back into the wall “here we go.” You easily ripped apart the first few men next attacking together and getting a few hits in before you took them down, your hand in the chest of the last to attack you before you heard.
“Hold on a moment.” Klaus said as he walked into the room “Marcel it seems that your men aren’t up to the challenge.”
“Klaus.” Marcel glared.
“Here I have a coin!” Klaus put it down on the floor “whoever picks up this coin will be spared his game!”
“Game?” You squeezed the heart that resided in the chest you had punched through “I don’t think they are having much fun.”
“But you are.” Klaus smirked, your eyes drawn to Rebekah as she whispered something to Marcel, you watched carefully as he stepped forward and bent, picking up the coin, you smirked as you pulled your hand from the man's chest and let him fall.
“Nicely done your highness, I’ll be leaving then?” You asked and Klaus smirked.
“Why would the prince leave his kingdom?”
It was years before real trouble found your family, you don’t know why it took so long but as your aunt claimed right to you or your sister, you decided that it would be you that she took, you had no intention of giving someone else in your place and so you left with her before anyone could stop you.
You honestly expected it to take longer, for her to break you but it only took her a few weeks to find out what you had left for your family what you hoped to one day go back to and took you to Mystic Falls told you to go and see the man that you had left, you walked into the boat house happier than you had in years and it was torn from you in seconds “(Y/N)?” Damon asked, you swallowed as you looked between the two, Damon and Elena more friendly then they were when you had left.
“How long?” You asked.
“(Y/N)-”
“How long?” You asked again, fists curled so tight that you thought you might break your own hand. “You know what it doesn’t matter because I was told by so many people that you would break me-”
“Break you!?” Damon asked. “You were the one that left!”
“To protect every one of you because if my father had made me fight with him, you would have likely been the only one I would have convinced him to leave alive.” You answered. “Nice to know that you can think the worst of me.”
“I-”
“You had everything that I had left to give so if you’ll excuse me I have a prison to get back to.” You muttered.
“(Y/N) wait!” Elena was the one that called out this time but when you turned back they all saw it, the dead look behind your eyes.
“If you ever come near me again, either one of you, I will take the part of you that you love the most and twist it into your worst nightmare.” You threatened.
“Come (Y/N), we have work to do.” Dahlia said as she gestured for you to follow her, you turned leaving the two alone in the house.
*Part 2*
Requests and general question!
#the vampire diaries imagine#the vampire diaries one shot#the vampire diaries#the originals imagine#the originals#the originals imagines#klaus mikealson imagine#klaus mikaelson imagine#klaus mikaelson one shot#klaus mikaelson#damon salvatore imagine#damon salvatore one shot#damon salvatore#imagine#oneshot#one shot#reader insert#x reader#male reader
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DRAWTOBER #18 - Objects of Devotion by @emileesaurus
"Is that why you want me with you in New York?" Louis asked. "In case it's the end of the world?"
Lestat looked at Louis strangely, his head tipped slightly to one side. His white hair fell against his shoulder, and Louis fought the urge to brush it back. They were in public, surrounded by mortals, but Lestat loomed so large in Louis's vision that none of it seemed truly real.
"Would you be there with me if it was?"
1999. After months on the run from the Talamasca, Louis just wants to spend Christmas in New Orleans with Lestat. Will either of them ever manage to say what they actually mean? Featuring religious imagery and a trip to Montgomery Ward.
more book!loustat??? I'm spoiling you guys I know. I rarely read anything set so late in the series, but I'm particularly biased towards the author, and I wound up really enjoying how the general... deeply-fucked-up-ness of what happened in Merrick added to the depth of the Loustat relationship in this. with Y2K looming, the dead disasters spend the holiday season swimming through the tides of gross consumerism and find themselves in an unexpectedly tender moment in a church. gorgeous characterisation, managing to balance that sweet sweet emotional vulnerability with the realism of how messed up these two boys are. fully recommend.
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Our little game pt. 5
Pairing: Klaus Mikaelson x witch! reader
Summary: Klaus is making a major, huge mistake of his life, for which you are paying the price. Will you be able to forgive him? Or maybe it's too late for everything.
Warning(s): angst, talk about death, Klaus fights and suffers because of Mikael, family drama, blood, violence, curses, I used some famous lines from TVD and TO
Word count: 6,9k
Third person's POV | 2 hours earlier
The original hybrid left the party in a hurry, loosening his tie as he practically ran towards the parking lot. His younger brother was right behind him, barely catching up with him.
"Nik! Wait a minute!" Kol screamed, grabbing his brother's elbow and stopping him halfway. He completely ignored his hostile, stern look and continued. "We need to think it over."
"All we need to do is get rid of him from our lives once and for all!"
"We can't do it alone. We need Freya…"
"Freya will never stand against him! We're on our own unless you're a coward." the man cut him off, yanking his arm out of his grip.
"Well, let's at least take Elijah…"
"I'm not going to ruin our brother's wedding day! I already killed him once; I can do it again. We have to hurry before he calls for backup. Will you help me, or should I rely on myself?" Kol sighed as he studied his brother's determined face. If they had attacked out of the blue, they might have been able to defeat him together while he was still weakened.
"All right. But we're keeping Davina out of it."
"As well as Y/N." they nodded to each other and walked hand in hand towards the parking lot.
Klaus had to do it quietly. His little witch needed a break, and a fight with the Mikaelsons' psychopathic father wouldn't help her at all (or convince the woman to stay in New Orleans much longer than she planned). Elijah deserved a respite from his problems, and so did Rebekah. Nor could he rely on Freya's strength and power forever. After all, she wasn't immortal like them; she had her limits like any witch. Kol and he had to deal with it on their own. For everyone's sake.
"Do you even know how he managed to get back to the surface of the earth? I thought you killed him for good last time."
"Believe me, I'm just as surprised as you are."
"You think it's the mother's work? She has regained her powers and is resurrecting all our enemies from the other side?"
"You tell me. You spent a few months there before we finally begged your witch to help us bring you back. What were our parents' moods?"
"You know, I tried not to get too close to them. But I met your father; he's actually a nice guy."
"What did you say?" he asked in shock, staring at his brother in pure surprise.
"Yeah, I was surprised too when he saved me from Mikael and introduced himself as your dad. We had a bit of a fight at first, but he turned out to be a good guy."
"You met… my father."
"Maybe it's not a good time, but I think you should know that. If he somehow magically appears here, and I'm pretty sure he'll do it; he's said many times that he'll get the fuck out of here as soon as he gets a chance, you shouldn't hurt him. Hope deserves at least one normal grandpa. Ansel would be a good fit for this; he was babbling about her all the time, and my head was bursting as he raved about her. You know I love her, but how much can you talk about a baby? Hey? Nik?" he shook his brother's shoulder as he sat silently in the driver's seat, not bothering to start the car.
"How did he know about Hope?"
"He's been keeping an eye on you since… you know. He probably knows everything about you, which is actually as scary as it is cute."
Klaus continued to listen to Kol's story in silence. As he drove the car, he pondered the new message. His father watched over him.
His real father.
The one who supposedly abandoned him and didn't care for him...
Could that be true?
Could he believe it?
Allowing himself to live a boyish fantasy of having a father who truly cares for him? He could believe that Esther would be able to lie to him about his real father's feelings toward him, and it was hardly possible that Kol could be so cruel. So, could Klaus have been so lucky after all?
Could he have had the love of his true father, the beloved daughter who was the light in his dark life, and the love and devotion of a woman he wanted more than anything in this world?
Could Klaus, after so many years of pain, sorrow, and fury, be given such enormous blessings?
He found out a few hours later.
He found out a few hours later, when he and Kol were returning as fast as they could to their family after Mikael nearly killed them two. However, it wasn't just the two of them in the car on their way back...
~•♤♤♤•~
"Father! Come, come wherever you are!"
It was supposed to go fast and smoothly. Klaus was supposed to act as bait (after arguing with Kol for several hours, they played paper, rock, scissors, and he lost… 10 times), and Kol was meant to heroically step in with a white oak stake and try to kill their father.
Piece of cake. Nothing possible could go wrong.
But it did. Very, very quickly.
They underestimated Mikael's ability to win people over. While Klaus was able to single-handedly take down his father's band of minions and come out of the fight uninjured, the fight against Mikael proved to be more of a challenge. Especially since he had a bit of an advantage over them...
"You're alone, boy? Did your siblings finally abandon you?"
"Don't worry about them. I don't need anyone else to help me send you back to hell."
"Very courage from your side to assume you can kill me all alone. Or stupid. I think the second one suits you much better. You didn't change at all, Niklaus. Thousand years, and you're still a quick-tempered, impulsive boy seeking the approval of others. I guess you've never learned from your mistakes. But it's even better for me. It'll be so easy to finally end your miserable life."
"Thousand years of trying, and you were never close enough. What makes you sure this time will be different?"
"This time, I know your weakness." Klaus' heart stopped for a moment in fear. He couldn't talk about Hope. His daughter was safe with Hayley, the pack, surrounded by Freya and Y/N with all sorts of protective spells.
"I don't have any."
"Don't you?" he looked at him carefully with a sinister smirk on his lips. "Then let me remind you. The blonde one, powerful witch you've met not so long ago. Y/N, right? Her blood must taste ambrosial with such magic running through her veins. She would make such a beautiful corpse, don't you think? "Klaus' composure dropped to zero, and his and Kol's plan went to hell. No one will threaten his witch, especially Mikael.
Without thinking, he lunged at the man, trying to punch him in the face. Mikael braced for his outburst, grabbed his fist, and twisted his arm. Klaus shouted, twisting his hand out of his grip, and pushing him to the boxes behind him. Mikael staggered, trying to regain his balance. The hybrid took advantage of this by throwing a metal rod at him and speeding towards him with the intention of snapping his neck. The older man grabbed the object flying towards him, pierced Klaus' side, and pushed, sending him crashing to the floor.
Klaus pulled the metal out of his body, but the wound on his side wouldn't heal. Suddenly he felt as if his whole body was on fire; every nerve in his body shot through with unimaginable pain. He felt as if his mother had put a curse on him, cutting him off from his werewolf side.
Suddenly, a circle of fire formed around him, and none other than the mother of the originals emerged from the shadows, muttering a familiar spell that began the 1,000-year search for the doppelgänger and the moonstone. Panic rose in him, along with the pain he felt.
NO! He couldn't go through it again!
"Who'll fight for you now, boy?!" Mikael shouted, walking slowly over to him and pulling a white oak stake from his coat pocket, patiently waiting for his wife to finish her spell and get rid of her unwanted son from their lives once and for all.
"I will." Kol stepped out of the shadows, pushing his father away from the circle where his older brother was trapped. Mikael laughed, looking at his son with contempt.
"I was wondering which of you would come to rescue this abomination. I never expected you'd be the first one to protect him. Wasn't he the one who locked you in a coffin for centuries? Will you defend him after what he did to you? You know best of all what he's capable of. Don't you want revenge? To see him suffer for all his sins against you? Join us, my son. Let's do justice to him together."
"Forgive me, father. I'm not on the retirement team." Mikael's smirk fell, and an ominous, dark look returned in its place.
"So you will watch your failure."
Mikael threw himself at his son in an instant, overpowering him. He turned his back to him and clamped his hand around his neck, forcing him to watch as his brother writhed on the floor in pain, occasionally getting close enough to the fire to sear him. Kol shuddered.
"In a moment, your mother will finish reciting the spell, and your treacherous brother will become nothing but a vampire again, and then... I will pierce him through before your eyes, son, so that you will remember once and for all how those who oppose me end up. Maybe then you'll join us."
"I'd rather die." Kol growled, trying to wriggle out of his father's grip.
"So you will."
And then, when everything seemed over for the two siblings and all hope of survival was lost, the appearance of one person changed the fate of the originals.
Suddenly, a wooden bolt shot out of the darkness of the building and pierced Esther's stomach, causing her to break her spell. The woman fell to the floor, screaming. Another wooden stake flew towards Mikael, who was forced to let go of Kol and catch the flying piece of wood before it hit him.
Klaus stopped shaking in pain, taking quick, heavy breaths. He used his remaining strength to look at his savior.
It couldn't be true…
"Get away from my son!"
Ansel jumped off the container, falling right in front of Klaus and shielding him with his own body. He held his crossbow high, aiming it at an angry Mikael. Kol stood beside him, handing him a white oak stake, which Mikael dropped and took out their weapons himself.
"I've already killed you once!"
"And I can already tell you that this time the ending will be different. Now, get out of here, or I will skin you for what you have done to MY SON."
"What can you do to me?! I'm a vampire, the original! Some weak werewolf can't kill me!"
"Be careful. That weak werewolf has many friends, and some of them..." Mikael and Esther cried out in pain as they fell to their knees on the floor. "Are very powerful witches. Touch my son again, and I'll kill you right away, without a blink. But for all of this, you've already done to him..." more bolts fired from his crossbow, wounding the parents of the originals. Most of them were aimed at the seething with anger Mikael.
"Kol. Take your brother out. I'll join you in a second."
"Are you sure, old man?"
"Yes. Just give me a few seconds." Kol nodded uncertainly to him, not wanting to leave Ansel alone with his parents at all. But the younger original carefully took his exhausted brother into his arms and carried him outside at vampire speed.
The werewolf took a few steps towards the kneeling two, firing the few bolts he had left at the man. Esther screamed shrilly beside them as the witches continued to torture her with their magic.
"I'll make sure you suffer in ways even your cruel, psychopathic mind can't imagine and believe me... a thousand years on the other side teaches great creativity and patience, Mikael." Ansel drove one of the stakes through Esther's heart and watched with satisfaction as the woman who had kept his only son away from him fell to the floor dead. "He'll suffer one more time because of you, and I'll make sure you don't get any peace even on the other side. I hope you understand."
"This whore of his will die before he gets to her! You won't protect him from that."
"We'll see. Again, please!" Mikael howled louder in pain as the witches strengthened their attack. Ansel smiled slightly.
Ansel left the warehouse, leaving the vampire writhing in pain behind him. He had more important things on his mind than torturing him. His son needed him, and he wasn't going to spend a single minute doing anything other than helping him.
After all, family was the most important thing. For always and forever.
~•♤♤♤•~
Kol drove the car, watching the two men in the back seat in the mirror. Ansel told him to get back to their siblings as soon as possible, especially Y/N.
The original had already learned on the other side that it was better to follow his orders. Ansel usually knew what he was doing, and after saving Kol countless times, he had the younger vampire's full trust.
Klaus could be a little more like him.
"What are you laughing at there, jester?" Ansel asked, looking up from his sleeping son and noticing the smirk on Mikaelson's face.
"Don't get offended, but he is nothing like you."
"I know, and I'm proud of him. He's his own person."
"Elijah will be delighted when you tell him that. Another believer in Nik's redemption."
"He is my son. Of course I believe in him and want the best for him." Kol's face morosed as he remembered how, just an hour ago, his father had tried to kill him and nearly ended his brother's life. "Don't make such a face. He is not your father. No father would make his child suffer. He doesn't deserve your attention, thoughts, or anything."
"But he's right about one thing. We are monsters."
"No. You're all lost. You may be a thousand years old, but really you are like children who have not been taught how to be adults. You know no other way to deal with your emotions than to succumb to this bloodlust. The worst of all is that you've allowed yourselves to be told that you are monsters when everything you do is out of your will to survive or strong feelings."
"A living ticking time bomb, eh?"
"If that's what you want to call it." Ansel murmured, shifting his gaze to his only son. Kol glanced at the two men in a car mirror.
Klaus will be damn surprised to see such a caring and tender look in his biological father's eyes. But he deserved it. After everything Miakel and Esther had put him through—what they all went through because of their parents—they deserved a normal, healthy relationship.
Kol would give anything to have someone like a werewolf for a dad.
"He needs you. Don't fuck it up." instead of admitting this childish desire to himself, he decided to warn Klaus' father.
"I'm not going to waste my chance, Kol. This is rarely: to come back from the other side."
"I'm still going to keep my eye on you. Especially around Hope."
"I would expect nothing less from you."
"Good. Wake up our princess. We're almost there."
~•♤♤♤•~
They expected it to be hard. Some hidden group of vampires and witches ready to attack at any moment, maybe a few deadly traps await them.
They wouldn't have expected the house to go up in flames. Vampires didn't usually die from fire... but humans did.
Klaus got out of the car the moment he saw the burning building. He didn't care that Kol hadn't stopped the car yet or that his newly found father was sitting right next to him.
All the original hybrid had on his mind was getting to Y/N as fast as he could.
He screamed her name and ran like a madman through the collapsing house. She had to be around here somewhere, unless she evacuated. The man did not allow even the slightest thought that his beloved could be trapped in the building, dead from the fire. He had to find her, lock her in a safe place, defeat Mikael, and return to his love, only to finally reveal his feelings to her and keep her with him where she belonged. There was no other way out of this situation.
However, Klaus, despite his best efforts, found someone completely different.
Katherine Pierce-Mikaelson lay unconscious among the collapsing ruins of the hall. Klaus stopped. Dark thoughts flooded his mind. How easy it would be to leave her here once and for all and let some stray plank fall and pierce her stoned heart. He shook his head.
Whether he wanted it or not, she was part of the family now. And he never left them behind. (Also, Y/N wouldn't approve of him leaving her friend to die. Elijah wouldn't be too pleased either.)
He took her in his arms and carried her out of the building. He laid her down on the grass, checking to see if she was injured.
"NIKLAUS! KATERINA!" Klaus raised his head, turning his gaze to his brother, who was running towards them. "Is she okay?! Where is Kol?! KOL?!" the elder brother rushed home after making sure his wife and Klaus were okay.
The hybrid caught up with him and grabbed his jacket, stopping him from entering the building.
"He is fine. Have you seen Y/N?" Elijah fell silent, looking away from his younger brother. Klaus grabbed him by the shoulders and forced him to look into his eyes. "WHERE IS Y/N?!" he shouted, shaking him.
"Niklaus..." the hybrid didn't even bother to listen to him.
He let go of the lapels of his jacket and ran towards the collapsing building, but before he could get close to the fire, his brother caught him. Klaus tried to break free from his grip. They both fell to the ground, fighting until the younger original snapped the older's neck.
"NIK!" his sister's scream stopped him from going home again, he ran towards her. Rage and fear shone in his eyes.
"WHERE IS SHE?!" he shouted at the jittery blonde. He had to get to Y/N, and his sister's tearful, devastated face didn't show she was safe. His anxiety and panic only increased as he searched Rebekah's eyes for any answer.
"She... she is in our house." Klaus had never felt such need and blissful relief flood him so quickly. Unfortunately, it left him as fast as it came. "She is in transition."
The original froze. He felt as if the whole world stopped around him for a moment. The one thing Klaus wasn't sure how Y/N would take in their (then very likely) future relationship was her possible transformation into a vampire. Now that it was actually happening, Klaus worried what his beloved's reaction would be.
"What? But... how?"
"Our father's minions attacked the building. Elijah and I managed to escape in time and evacuate Freya. Katherine was supposed to join us with Y/N, but they never showed up. We went back into the building and found her with a metal rod in her chest. We thought she was dead, but Freya did some weird tricks on her, and it turned out she had vampire blood in her system. Your blood, Nik. I'm so sorry."
"They attacked Katerina. They snapped her neck when she tried to help Y/N. We need to find them and Mikael. They will die for what they did." he growled, preparing a very savage plan of attack in his head.
He would destroy those who hurt his love. They will be begging him to send them to hell quickly.
"Klaus! You knew that, right? That our father returned. Is that why you disappeared with Kol? You went to kill him on your own and you lost. You provoked him, so now it's our fault that Y/N is dead."
"YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT MY PLANS WERE!" he shouted furiously. Rebekah had no right to say that when all he was doing was trying to protect Y/N and his family.
"THAT'S THE PROBLEM, NIK, IT'S ALWAYS YOUR PLANS AND NEVER OURS! And now Y/N is dead and it's all your fault!"
"SHE'S NOT DEAD! SHE WILL BE WITH US FOREVER AFTER TURNING INTO A VAMPIRE!"
"SHE WILL NEVER FEED!"
Her sudden statement restored complete silence, broken only by the sound of the burning house. Klaus quickly came to the conclusion that the sound of the fire burning in the fireplace, instead of bringing him relief and peace as before, would become the cause of his anxiety, a memory of the fear and horror he felt today. Another trauma for the collection.
"What?"
"She won't be one of us. She will die, Nik, and you will have the blood on your hands of the only person who has ever truly loved you."
"YOU'RE LIAR! SHE WOULD NEVER LEAVE ME!" he shouted, feeling the tears start to gather dangerously in his eyes.
"Are you sure?"
Klaus screamed, rushing furiously at his sister, but a strong hand on his shoulder stopped him.
"Be calm, son. Don't do something you'll regret. We'll go in turn. We'll kill Miakel first and then deal with Y/N, right?"
"And who the bloody hell are you?" Rebekah asked, eyeing the newcomer suspiciously. Especially when her brother hadn't ripped his arm off or maimed him after he touched him.
"Rebekah, this is my father... Rebekah!" Klaus screamed as the blonde vampire walked over to the older man and slapped him across the face.
"It's okay, Niklaus. I think I deserved it." Ansel groaned in pain, clutching his sore cheek.
"What do you want from him?" she growled, shielding her brother from him with her body. The Mikaelsons' experience had taught them to be careful in their dealings with their parents. They didn't have a very good experience. Klaus, on the other hand, rolled his eyes at his sister's protectiveness. If Ansel wanted to hurt him, he would have done so long ago; he certainly wouldn't have saved him from the clutches of death. Which didn't mean he trusted his father. He would have to deserve it and prove his good intentions to the sibling.
"I want to protect him. He's my son."
Klaus' heart beat faster. His son. It had been a long time since anyone had said that about him (he doubted he'd ever heard those words spoken with such pride and feeling). After all, Klaus wasn't made of stone. He could pretend his father's attitude didn't bother him, but he guessed they all knew how it affected the cruel hybrid. But before their big family meeting about Ansel could take place, they had to defeat their parents. And nothing unites and strengthens family bonds like hunting down their enemies.
"I threw the newlyweds in the car! If you've finished this dramatic scene, get your ass to the car before we all burn up from this fire, behind you, idiots!"
Maybe Klaus would have taken his father into the family after all. He would make a great replacement for his annoying little brother...
~•♤♤♤•~
Y/N's POV
I groaned as I slowly began to regain consciousness.
My head was bursting like hell, my throat felt like a desert, and the lights of the New Orelan lanterns that flooded into the room blinded me, causing me additional pain.
I felt like I had a huge, unforgettable hangover.
However, I don't remember much from last night. I guess I got drunk at the wedding faster than I thought and ended up in Klaus' bedroom again. At least he cleaned up after our recent… activities.
I slowly got out of bed. The world seemed to spin in my head. I closed my eyes, trying to compose myself. Suddenly, I heard an awfully loud jazz band playing in the streets of New Orleans. I swallowed, wondering who normal plays at night under other people's windows.
Someone entered the house with a bang, slamming the door mercilessly behind them. I hissed, clutching my throbbing head in pain. I've never had such a big hangover in my life.
Klaus came in covered in blood. Instantly, I felt the excitement flooding into my body, and my tongue moved to wet my chapped lips. I felt hotter in the room. My god, I fucked him only 24 hours ago, I couldn't be such a whore to him.
"Y/N." he sighed, standing stunned in the doorway. Well, he probably wasn't expecting me in his bedroom again.
"After all the noise outside, I can tell you didn't get rid of those musicians after all. Who did you fight? And please don't tell me it was Elijah." I asked, trying to control my sudden and unexpected turning on by the hybrid in the blood. Fucking hormones before a period.
"Noise?"
"Do not change the subject. With your super-hearing, there's no way you can't hear it." the man gave me a concerned look as he approached me. "Okay, I'm starting to worry. What happened to you?"
"Y/N..." he whispered, reaching for me, but I took a step away from him and wrinkled my nose.
"There's no way I'm letting you hug me or even touch me when you're covered in blood. Know my good heart, I'll clean you." I made a familiar flick of my wrist, but to my surprise, nothing happened… my magic didn't even move in my veins. I tried again, but nothing happened. I transferred my annoyed, hostile gaze to the original. What right did he have to lock me up in his house and block access to my magic?! "What the hell have you done to my magic?! Why did you keep it from me?! What kind of game are you playing right now?!"
"Y/N, I need you to calm down..."
"DON'T TOUCH ME! What did you do to me?! Why can't I feel my power?!"
"I'm so sorry, love."
"No… you can't just imply that… No." I shook my head in disbelief, unable to accept what he was trying to tell me. He must have been making cruel fun of me. But his painful, worried expression indicated otherwise.
"You're in a transition, Y/N."
"No, no, no. I can't! I didn't even drink a vampire's blood or die!"
"You drank from me last night, and today at the wedding, my father's minions disrupted the party. They started a fire and…"
"NO! You're lying! I can't be a vampire!"
"Y/N, please just listen to me..." he took a step towards me, but I backed away from him in panic, afraid to be so close to the man covered in blood... I could smell the wonderful, intoxicating smell of the red liquid on him.
"DON'T come closer. It is impossible. Are you playing some sick game, or is that some fucking plan of yours? A way to get me stuck here?"
"You think I'd stoop so low that I could do something like that to you? One of the few people I care about more than myself?!"
"You tell me. I don't know you."
"Do you really want to argue the same thing over and over again? When do we both know the truth?"
"I'm in transition, I'm scared, I'm angry, and I feel like my whole body is on fire with pain, and you're still able to bring everything back to our fucked-up relationship? You are an unbelievable narcistic psycho."
"Well, I know a very simple solution to your problems." he walked over to his desk and opened a drawer, leaving a bloodstain on the wood. He turned back to me, tossing me a bag of blood. "Drink."
"Are you crazy?! I'm not going to turn into that bloodthirsty thing that you are!"
"I've never heard such a beautiful compliment, love. Now. Drink. Before I pour it down your throat."
"You can't fucking make me!" I screamed, throwing a bag against the wall, which wasn't a good idea at all as its contents started to run down the wall, creating a small puddle on the floor. My gums involuntarily itched. My stomach rumbled as the delicious smell of fresh blood hit my nostrils.
I closed my eyes, sighing as I tried to control the overwhelming hunger. Klaus took advantage of my moment of weakness, coming over to me and enclosing me in a tight, strong hug. The smell of blood that covered him attacked my senses.
It was funny how his arms were both the only place that could bring me peace and make me fearful of the inner need caused by the vampire blood in my system.
"I can see how you are struggling and how persistently you are trying to overcome it. But why fight it? Why when you can get so much? Have you ever thought about the benefits of being a vampire? Your lovely, pretty face will never age a day, being able to dazzle others with its unimaginable beauty forever. All human diseases and ailments will disappear. You will be able to enjoy eternal life, discovering the mysteries and wonders of this world, even if not with me by your side, then with someone who will worship you until the end of this world. All you have to do is drink some blood and let us take care of you until you learn to control yourself. Is that such a big price to pay for eternal life?" he let me pull away from him a little so I could look into his eyes as he held me tight, desperately trying to convince me to stay alive.
"Who said it would be a happy life? That I'll learn to control myself and not go crazy or become a ripper? That I won't come back covered in the innocent blood of humans every night like you?"
"I must admit I'm a little offended, but I won't blame you for making such vicious accusations against me." he said it in such a tone that I laughed involuntarily, bringing a tender smile to his face. He could always make me laugh, even in the darkest of times. "It's the blood of Mikael and his minions; they definitely weren't innocent, love. Besides, I know you. You will not attack an ordinary man for your own pleasure. And even if you want to, I'll make sure you don't do anything stupid."
I got out of his grip, walking away from him to a safe distance. I might have been in transition, but of the two of us, the man was still the more impetuous. His reaction to my final decision may vary, and I prefer not to risk an untimely death by suffocation.
Besides, Klaus would never forgive himself for that.
"I can't, Nik. I won't feed." his calm facade dropped, and the desperation in his eyes and fear became more evident.
"Y/N just listen to me..."
"It seems like the only fair way out, you know? I helped you plan that stupid wedding; now, at least, you can return the favor by giving me a big, epic funeral."
"Don't even joke like that."
"You know, when Bonnie became sort of an anchor for dead supernaturals to find their way to peace or whatever it is, I couldn't believe at first that the dead actually went somewhere. It seems logical that after you've lived so many years with all these super powers, you just… die. No special effects, no second life, or another reality where there are other dead people. Now, I wish I believed in an afterlife, but I just don't buy this peace story."
"Vampirism is by definition an afterlife."
"I'd rather go into the unknown than live in pain." as if on cue, a sudden, painful spasm seized the left half of my body, causing me to double up... I thought I was beginning to decay from the inside out.
Klaus was near me in no time, holding me up. Fear and despair were painted on his face so clearly that I had to look away from him to chase away the remorse.
"The longer you wait, the more you'll suffer."
"Yeah. I think it's better this way. I mean, look at me. I'm gonna make a super-hot corpse. Perfect for an open casket..."
"Y/N."
"I want a huge party. Everyone has to drink themselves into oblivion and reminisce about all the happy times, funny jokes, or God knows what else. And don't let Kol officiate my funeral, because he'll definitely bring up that stupid story about drunk me flirting with you in a wedding dress or that you were my last fu..."
"STOP IT!" he shouted, interrupting me."I'll not entertain this kind of talk any longer. You must feed. I need you." he growled, glaring at me madly as if that had ever impressed me or worked on me.
He wanted a furious lovers quarrel? Here we go, I'll give him a fucking, last argument.
"This is not about you, this is about me! I liked who I was! I've spent my entire life being that exact version of myself! Years of hard practice and experimentation with my magic went for nothing. I'm nothing! I will never be who I used to be. It is better if I die as someone I'm proud of than live as someone I despise!"
"NO! It is better to live a flawed life than to waste it rotting in clay!"
"But that's not your decision to make." I whispered with tears in my eyes.
He thought I wanted to die? Leaving the love of my life when our story was just beginning? That I didn't want that fucking fairytale ending where the princess got her prince charming?
But I was never a Cinderella, and Klaus was no cut-off to be a prince on a white horse. And we had to accept this.
"Y/N..."
"I HAVE NOTHING, KLAUS! Without my magic, I am a meaningless shell of my former self. I will always be just a shadow of the person I used to be, unable to cast even the simplest spell or feel the fucking energy of plants! My immortal life will be one big void that nothing can fill!" I walked over to him, taking his hands. I didn't want him to leave. Since I was about to die, I didn't want to do it alone. But I knew full well that he wouldn't stay with me to watch me die, because if I were in his place, I wouldn't be able to watch him go away forever either. "I don't want to live like this, Nik. I can't stand such a pain, and certainly nothing is worth it."
"If you want to go back to the arms of death so badly, I won't stop you. I only hope the bugs will eat your rotten body soon, love." he growled, pulling his hand out of my grip, and he stormed out of the room.
"Klaus! Wait!" I shouted after him, trying to take a step towards the door, but I was too weak to move. I slumped to the ground, letting all my heightened emotions come to light and burst into tears as I listened as the hybrid left the house, slamming the door angrily.
This wasn't how it was all supposed to be.
Everything was meant to fall into place after the wedding, but my life was coming to an inexorable end, and my epic true love left me alone and ran away, hurt by my refusal to accept eternal life by his side.
Suddenly, I felt arms pull me into a comforting, firm embrace as someone began to stroke my hair reassuringly. I looked up. It was Klaus' father.
Klaus told me about it several times and even showed me one of the most traumatic memories for him—finding his biological father, pierced through and through by Mikael's sword. I spent half the night with him then, trying to distract his mind from his memories about his true origin.
Apparently, Ansel must have returned with the parents of the originals. He must have trusted him to let him into his mansion.
"All right. He will calm down a bit and come back to you, darling. He will not waste the last hours with his beloved on pointless wandering in anger around the city."
"I... don't want to hurt him. I just can't... I... was never supposed to become... It's all so fucked up." I sobbed, letting Ansel move me to Klaus' bed, so we were sitting next to each other.
"Try to understand him. The love of his life is dying, and while he could shove blood down your throat and save you, he can't do anything without your permission. He's powerless, and that's one of the few feelings my son doesn't take well."
"I don't think I can do it, Ansel. I don't want to be a vampire, but… I want him to be okay. He finally has some happiness and peace in his life, and I'm taking that away from him, making him unhappy again. If only I could turn back time and…"
"And do what? Never met him?"
"That would be best for him and his family."
"I think my son knows what's best for him. And I think..." he got out of bed, rolled up the carpet to get to the floorboards, and pulled out one board. He put his hand into the hole and pulled out a huge bundle of papers. He put everything back in its place and came over to me, handing me the package. "He discovered it himself a long time ago."
"What is it?" I asked, wiping tears from my cheeks, and (after wiping my hands on my dress) I took it from him.
"Something for you. Ah, these postmen! They always lose something or don't deliver it on time, don't they? I'll leave you with that for a while. I'll make sure you have some privacy." Klaus' father went out of the room, closing a door behind him.
A werewolf left me with the strange envelopes alone.
I looked at them distrustfully, not certain if I really wanted to open them. But my innate curiosity made me ask myself one important question all the time.
What was in them?
With trembling hands, I opened the first sealed envelope.
I'd recognize Klaus' practiced, beautiful handwriting anywhere. It's been haunting me since he sent me an invitation to Mikaelson's ball. After every little note he gave me, I could tell I was an expert at his refined handwriting. Thanks to this little obsession, after the first glance at the letter, I knew it was written by him.
Y/N,
I have to admit, I'm a little offended that you're not answering my calls. Are you so busy with Mystic Falls stuff that you don't have time for old friends?
It'd be nice to know you're alive,
Klaus
My malicious witch, my nuisance,
It's really awful of you to torment my poor soul. What have I done to deserve such a cold shoulder? Have your little friends turned you against me? If Rebekah and Katherine deserve weekly video calls, what do I have to do to have the honor of hearing your irritating voice?
Stop with that attitude, or I'll show up in this musty hole myself,
Klaus
A thorn in my side, a waking nightmare,
I see you're ignoring me on purpose. I have to admit, I didn't expect such a game from you, but here you go. Want to play games? Expect me to be a willing participant.
Let the best win,
Klaus
My stupid little witch,
Heretics will no longer bother you. Do not thank me.
Put your life in danger for these morons one more time, and you will know my wrath,
Klaus
My little tormentor,
Have you cast a spell on me to think about you every night? Does this possession make me see you everywhere I go, only to be disappointed when I reach a person who is not you? Is this another one of your new tricks? Making me miss you awake and asleep?
I swear I'll draw you into your own trap,
Klaus
My lovely witch and the sweet bane of my existence,
You win. I love you.
Truly, madly, deeply.
I dare you to come to me and get your price.
Yours,
Klaus
If it was possible, I cried more than before. Why now? Why didn't I find all these letters sooner? If only I had known about the letters sooner, now at least I would have had something to remember on the other side.
But the most important question was, did I really want to go to the other side, now?
#Spotify#klaus mikaelson#klaus mikaelson x reader#klaus mikaelson x y/n#klaus x reader#klaus oneshot#tvd#rebekah mikaelson#elijah mikaelson#katerina petrova#katherine pierce#niklaus x reader#niklaus x oc#niklaus mikaelson#klaus mikaelson x oc#tvd klaus#klaus mikaelson x you#kol mikaelson#freya mikaelson#mikael mikaelson#ansel#vampire#werwolf#witch#witches#action#kasagia
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To my taggers @hughungrybear, @ranchthoughts, @he-is-lightning-in-a-bottle, and @telomeke, this one's for you!
GET TO KNOW ME TAG :)
do you make your bed?
Not until I sleep in it!
what's your favorite number?
Feel like I don't want to spill it because I use these numbers in passwords lol
what is your job?
Executive management
if you could go back to school, would you?
Such a good question. I already did it once, mid-life, and it was THE BEST DECISION I EVER MADE, and one of the first decisions I truly made just for myself. Would I go back AGAIN? I would have considered it if I didn't know so many PhDs who are at various levels of happiness with their decisions. So: maybe. What I really look forward to is being retired so that I can take free classes at local colleges and have all the time in the world to read through the syllabi.
can you parallel park?
Fuck yes, who do I fucking look like, someone that can't parallel park? /end-East-Coast-road-rage
a job you had that would surprise people?
Hmmm. I don't think I have one that fits this category!
do you think aliens are real?
I think humanity's definition of "life" is too limiting
can you drive a manual car?
UNFORTUNATELY NOT, and I really wanna learn
what's your guilty pleasure?
Watching dramas, honestly. I shouldn't feel guilty about it, but I'm Asian, so I feel guilty about everything
tattoos?
Love them on other people, never made up my mind on what I wanted to get, and I feel like that ship has sailed for me
favorite color?
My kids ask me this all the time: pine green, rich purple, deep pink, all oranges, aquamarine blue, and black
favorite type of music?
I can't choose one. My playlist is all over the place. Korean hip-hop and New Orleans bounce (THANKS @bengiyo) have been my workout go-tos lately
do you like puzzles?
I will when my kids have more patience to do them
any phobias?
HEIGHTS :(
favorite childhood sport?
Ice hockey
do you talk to yourself?
Absolutely, and I've needed to use meditation to manage the inner monologue over the years
what movies do you adore?
Oh gosh. All I think about lately are Thai BLs, so I think a lot about the impact of The Love of Siam and Dew, two movies that are so tough to digest, but are really well done. I've also had two wonderful Japanese movies on the mind for no reason, Like Father, Like Son: Soshite Chichi ni Naru, and Drive My Car.
coffee or tea?
Both, all the time, often mixed
first thing you wanted to be growing up?
I wanted to be a journalist. I was such a rabid sports that I thought being a journalist would get me the closest to sports that I could go without being an athlete. And I actually got to do sports journalism for a while, and it was fun! (But I quit media, which is a whole other thing, and now I'm much happier)
Who hasn't been tagged? How about the old Only Friends Ephemerality Squad, how y'all doing?! @lurkingshan (I think you already did this Shan) @neuroticbookworm @twig-tea @slayerkitty @thatgirl4815 @distant-screaming @clara-maybe-ontheroad
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Phillip's
Benoit Blanc believed there was no godly reason to have five coffee shops within walking distance of one another. So when a new shop called Phillip’s opened just down the street, Benoit couldn’t help but petulantly roll his eyes. At least the name wasn’t idiotic. Also on AO3...
To be honest, Benoit Blanc thought there were too many coffee shops in the world.
Jesus wept; there was no godly reason to have five coffee shops within walking distance of one another. Macco-choco caramel this, that, and the other—a waste of real estate. And the pastries they served? Travesty. Utter travesty. So when a new shop called Phillip’s opened just down the street, Benoit couldn’t help but petulantly roll his eyes. At least the name wasn’t idiotic.
He walked past Phillip’s—it was on his way home, after all—and ignored the smells coming from within, or at least tried to. Benoit’s neighbor, Mrs. Reynolds with the very sweet basset hound named Droopy, had said Phillip’s baked goods were “quite tasty.” Quite tasty, however, wasn’t enough to tempt him to enter the establishment. That was until Phillip’s had the utter audacity to put a sign in the window declaring they had delicious fresh beignets.
Beignets? Outside of New Orleans? Benoit couldn’t help but huff. He had to investigate that surely outlandish claim.
When he pushed his way through the coffee shop door, he instantly noticed how tastefully decorated the shop was. Fresh flowers sat at each table, everything was painted a lovely pale yellow, and Ella Fitzgerald rang from the speakers. Hmm. The shop was fairly empty, with just a few patrons at one table. Benoit couldn’t tell if that was a portend or if he just came in between a rush.
He looked at the chalkboard menu above the counter and studied it for a moment until someone cleared their throat and broke into his space.
“Welcome to Phillip’s,” a voice said.
“Yes, hello, thank you. Can I--”
Benoit looked at the source of the voice, and…
Oh, shitballs.
Well, he was just Benoit’s type, now, wasn’t he? Dark hair, blue eyes, a quizzical brow, and a crooked smile that made him want to trip over himself. He wore a tie-dyed apron and a nametag that read Phillip.
“We have some cheddar bacon scones just out of the oven.”
“Uh…”
“Unless you’re a vegan or something, then scratch that,” the man, the Phillip said.
Benoit took his wits about him as he tried to ignore Phillip’s smile and floppy hair.
“Beignets?” he finally croaked out.
“Ah, a connoisseur of the beignet are you?” Phillip asked as he leaned on his elbows against the counter.
“Yes, you could say that. Absolutely.”
Phillip’s eyes widened slightly, and then he shook his head and laughed.
“Yeah, judging by that accent, you could definitely say that,” he said. “Bugger.”
Benoit smiled and shrugged.
“Beignets outside of New Orleans shows quite the braggadocio.”
This time it was Phillip who grinned and shrugged.
“I hope they’re up to snuff.”
He looked over his shoulder and shouted.
“Lou! Hey, Lou! How long on the beignets?”
“Five minutes!” a voice from out back replied.
“Well, there you go. You can let me know what you think in five minutes. Anything else?”
The two looked at each other for a beat, the ghost of a smile still lingering.
“Coffee?”
“Room for cream?”
“No, thank you.”
“Takeaway?”
“Yes, please.”
“Name.”
“Blanc. Benoit Blanc.”
Benoit wasn’t quite sure exactly why he gave his whole name like that, but he did. Phillip snorted.
“Blanc? Benoit Blanc? What are you? James Bond?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Okay, fine,” Phillip said and exhaled loudly.
“Fine?”
“Some people like to give made-up names, and at this point, I’ve stopped reacting—or at least trying to react. Especially with one as silly as this.”
“Silly?” Benoit sputtered. “Listen--”
“Is that Blanc with a ‘c’ or a ‘q-u-e’?” Phillip asked with an eyebrow raised.
“A ‘c.’”
“I see,” Phillips said as he wrote on the cup and filled it with coffee. “Here you go, Blanc-with-a-C. The beignet will be right up.”
Benoit paid, and as their fingers grazed, he couldn’t help the tiny flip his insides did.
Phillip cleared his throat again and said, “Very well then. It should only be a few minutes on the beignets.”
“Thank you.”
Benoit sat at one of the cushy corner armchairs in a very supple dark grey suede and sipped his coffee.
“Is it always this quiet in here?” he asked toward the counter.
The patrons at the one table turned to look at Benoit.
“Quiet? Hardly,” Phillip called back. “You came during a quiet pocket. It’ll pick up again in an hour.”
Benoit sat and watched as Phillip wiped down the table, his forearms strong while they worked in a circular motion. Phillip paused and looked up right at Benoit, who startled and quickly looked down at his coffee cup.
Phillip shook his head and grinned as he wiped some more.
Lou, apparently, walked out from the back with a tray full of beignets.
“Order up for Blanc,” Phillip said.
Benoit walked up to the counter and breathed an internal sigh of relief as he looked at the beignets. They were a beautiful shade of light brown and covered in powdered sugar.
“I stand ready for your judgment,” Phillip said as he shook some more powdered sugar onto one and gently put it on a plate.
Benoit pick it up and took a bite. It was yeasty and sweet, but not overpowering. It was as fragant and airy as a summer’s night in Savannah.
“Oh, my word.” He took another bite. “Oh my goodness.”
Phillip smiled.
“Good, right?”
“It's… well, yes,” Benoit said with delight.
“I know.”
Benoit put down the beignet and quickly placed a ten in the tip jar and smiled, upper lip covered in powdered sugar.
“Well! What a compliment!” Phillip said as he picked up the jar and looked at it, puzzled.
“What’s wrong?” Benoit asked and gingerly wiped his mouth with a napkin.
“Come on! Just an hour ago, this jar was almost full! My tip jar’s been nicked again.”
Phillip sighed, walked over to the register, took out some money, and placed it in the tip jar.
“If it were just me working here, I wouldn't care so much, but Lou and the kids all divvy up the tips. This is the second time it’s happened. I thought the first time was a fluke but I supposed it wasn’t.”
“So sorry that's happening.”
“What kind of a cretin steals tips? I need a detective to solve this nonsense!”
A detective? Benoit couldn't help but laugh.
“What? What's so funny?”
“No, it's just that--”
“What?”
“Well,” Benoit said. “I'm a detective.”
Phillip put his hands on his hips. “You are not.”
“Certified and bonafied.”
Phillip laughed. “Oh god! You’re not one of those overbearing sorts that smokes a bloody pipe, fancying themselves Sherlock fucking Holmes, who thinks they’re too smart for their own good?”
“No, I think I’m just the right amount of smart… and I smoke cigars,” Benoit said with a smile.
The two studied each other for a beat, their smiles growing wider by the second.
“You just think you're so charming, don't you?”
“I have my moments.”
Benoit felt someone watching, turned, and noticed the people sitting at the table looking at them amusedly. The woman at the table mouthed Go on to him.
“Well, all right then, Blanc. Would you like to have dinner sometime?” Phillip said. “You know, to go over the case.”
“Are you hiring me?”
Phillip moved his hand in a so-so motion.
“Not sure yet. I'll let you know after dinner.”
Benoit took another bite of the beignet and sighed.
"Flying colors.”
Phillips smiled smugly.
“Well, Blanc. Let me introduce myself properly. I'm Phillip. Phillip White.”
“Phillip White? You’re pullin’ my leg!”
“No,” Phillip laughed softly. “I promise you, I am not. My hands are nowhere near your legs.”
“Phillip,” Benoit said and stretched out his hand, “it's a pleasure to meet you.”
“Lovely to meet you, Blanc.”
The two smiled at one another, surrounded by pastries, music, and flowers. And if their handshake lasted a bit longer than it should have, well, there was no mystery as to why.
#glass onion#glass onion fic#benoit x phillip#phillip#benoit blanc#i haven't written anything in weeks#*sweats nervously*#PLEASE feel free to comment on ao3#or here#*laughs nervously*
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The phone rings. Armand heads over to the table that sits against the wall in the living room to answer it. It’s still fairly early in the night, only around 10pm, so it strikes him as odd that someone should want to call him so soon into the night.
When he picks up the phone, there’s no answer on the other end. He waits for a moment, thinking the other person will say something, but there’s nothing. All he can hear is what sounds like someone trying to control their breathing, as if they’re attempting to hold back their emotions.
“Who is this?” Armand’s tone is impatient; he doesn’t have the tolerance for someone calling the wrong number, or prank callers. “If you’re not going to say anything, I’m hanging up. I’m not wasting my time with this.” He goes to put the phone down after another second or so of silence, when suddenly he hears a voice on the other end.
“Armand?”
The phone goes back to his ear. “Yes?” After turning it over in his mind, the owner of the voice registers. “Lestat?” His mind races. Lestat. But shouldn’t he be in his coma? When did he come back to the waking world? “Lestat, you’re awake. When did you come out of it?” His own voice is hushed, as if speaking any louder will rouse him from what is surely a dream, his heart thuds in his chest at the prospect that maybe this is actually real.
“I’m here, Armand.” Lestat responds, equally as quiet, almost as though he were able to read his mind all the way from New Orleans. “There’s something I need to tell you.” He doesn’t answer Armand’s question, instead jumping straight to the point of his call - which apparently isn’t to tell him that he’s awake and well.
Armand lets it slide. He would press Lestat to answer but judging by his tone, whatever it is he has to tell him is rather urgent. “What is it?”
“It’s. . .” Lestat trails off and Armand swears he can hear him take a shaky inhale from the other end. “Something’s happened.”
Armand’s expression turns serious. Normally, he would chalk something like this up as one of Lestat’s adventures gone wrong, but considering his recent condition, that’s clearly not the case. Whatever it is, it doesn’t sound good. “Tell me what’s happened.”
“It’s Louis.”
[The Long Road A03]
#louis de pointe du lac#lestat de lioncourt#armand#loumand#loustat#vampire chronicles#tvc#vc fic#vc fanfic#my vc fics#my vampire chronicles
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reading update: november 2023
hiiiii, sorry I'm late! I know we're a week past November now, but I've been busy! and struggling to pull my mental health out of an absolute crevasse! I think I've mostly made it at this point, but unfortunately my month of seasonal affective woe did leave me with a pretty paltry reading list for the month of November :/
not that I have a quota to hit, but I'm getting back into reading with a PASSION now and I'm hoping to get a few more really great novels in before the year ends!
what have I been reading?
Exquisite Corpse (published as Poppy Z. Brite, currently known as William Martin, 1996) - man, you guys know how I love a fucked up little story about some nasty freaks? this is a FUCKED UP story about the NASTIEST freaks. gay serial killer Andrew escapes a life sentence in England by faking his own death and flees to America, where he lands in New Orleans and promptly meets a man named Jay, who is - holy shit, what are the odds? ALSO a gay serial killer! they get along like a house on fire, setting their sights immediately on a beautiful young runaway drug deal name Tran who has his sights set on Jay. but Trans' ex-boyfriend, Luke, a bitter writer turned pirate DJ dying of AIDS, is also up in the mix, complicating things for everyone. the tone is unrelentingly gruesome but beautifully written and frequently funnier than should be possible. certainly not a book for everyone, with about every possible trigger warning on the table, but god. WHAT a ride. I savored every second.
Unmasking Autism: Discovering the New Faces of Neurodiversity (Devon Price, 2022) - any hype you've heard about this book is absolutely worth it. Price is really exemplifying the excellence that comes from in-group writing, the magic that happens when people with firsthand experience living a life outside The Norm infiltrates academia and get the credentials to be recognized as the experts they are. I can't speak to the experience of reading this book as an autistic person, but as someone who's often the token allistic among my friends it clarified things that I had never even thought to wonder about with straightforward, accessible style and firsthand understanding. also, hey, it's so cool to see a book just straight-up advocating for autistic people to get more autistic and worry less about appeasing the allistic people around them. Dr. Price writes great advice, and I strongly recommend checking out this book and more of his work here. reading this also made me absolutely feral to check out Price's first book, Laziness Does Not Exist, so expect notes on that soon!
Momfluenced: Inside the Maddening, Picture-Perfect World of Mommy Influencer Culture (Sara Petersen, 2023) - listen, we can be honest here: that title is too long. but the read is worth it, even if I do have some mixed feelings about Petersen's messaging. she's not a momfluencer, but she is a mom who has been and still is very invested in momfluencers, letting that fascination fuel this book's creation. I found Petersen a bit too quick to come to the defense of influencing as a profession, which could grate. yes, women influencers are often the targets of a particular hostility that certainly stems from misogyny. yes, it certainly is true that being a full-time Instagram poster on top of raising living human children requires a lot of time and effort, which I guess does make it a "real job". but there are lots of "real jobs" that I disrespect on principle, and influencers are certainly on the list. Petersen has analysis on the stark hegemony of momfluencers, particularly the insidious white supremacy that controls which mothers are seen as aspirational, and she's certainly not lacking in self-reflection about the role momfluencers have played in her own parenting decisions, but it would have been nice to see more pushback on the concept of influencers existing at all, not just creating space for more diverse moms to take up the title. having said that: the chapter in which Petersen reflects on her own mother's lifelong dissatisfaction and grapples with learning to see her mother as a person, rather than just a perfectly happy crafty homemaker, was one of the most riveting things I've ever read and attacked me right in my own maternal baggage. she's a chatty writer who sometimes pulls back the conversational curtain to say the most haunting shit you've ever read in your life, particularly if you're like me and regard motherhood as a sort of horror movie scenario.
Unfortunately Yours (Tessa Bailey, 2023) - god, more like UNFORTUNATELY THIS BOOK, am I right? Unfortunately Yours was November's romance novel, which I finally got around to reading after it was gifted to me this summer by my housemate who clearly hates me. I already bitched about it at length in this month's hater roundup over on my Patreon, but god. jesus christ. I've had a lot of fun reading romance novels that are pretty charmingly crappy, but Bailey just fucking sucks. this book has it all: incessant references to the size difference between our hulking he-man protag and his itty bitty love interest, WEIRD gender dynamics, the most half-assed alleged "enemies-to-lovers" I've ever seen (they just kind of don't get along, it's nothing), convoluted fake marriage, "witty" "banter" that really reads like Bailey has never heard two clever or funny people talk to each other before and has to guess, and some viscerally upsetting sex scenes including one that takes place IN THE MIDDLE OF A FLASH FLOOD. also, the male protag is a war criminal. nobody ever shuts up about how he's an ex-Navy SEAL, but they never seem to want to talk about what SEALs actually do. might be kind of a boner killer.
what am I reading now?
The Bandit Queens (Parini Shroff, 2023) - I started this novel a couple days ago and I'm absolutely devouring it; I've got about 100 pages left and cannot wait to see how the story resolves. it's tremendous fun but also hits on emotional depths that I didn't expect going into a black comedy about rural Indian women killing their husbands! I'm very excited to finish it up and talk about it in my next recap; I think it's one of my favorite novels of the year for sure.
Out There Screaming: An Anthology of New Black Horror (edited by Jordan Peele, 2023) - I meant to read this for October but oops, there were too many holds at the library! regardless, the stories have been nothing but bangers so far.
Small Game (Blair Braverman, 2022) - I haven't started this novel yet, but it's been on my list for a while and after listening to several of Braverman's guest episodes on You're Wrong About in a row, I had to check it out. her episode on the Flight 571 crash in the Andes almost had me in tears; cannot recommend it enough.
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