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#1920's party
norvicensiandoran · 3 months
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Combining the three most straightforward posts on this, and my own reminder:
Project 2025 doesn't talk about arresting protestors via cops. It talks about "putting them down" using the military on US citizens. Which means "accidental" deaths from tear gas and rubber bullets won't be the exception, a bullet in the head will be the *plan.* If your kid or grandpa was there too bad; they had terrorist sympathies and were probably under the influence of Satan according to these MAGA Christo-Nationalists.
Both sides are not the same and FDR's corpse would be a better president than Trump.
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detroitlib · 9 months
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From our stacks: Cover detail from Party Book. Framingham, Mass.: Dennison Manufacturing Co., 1929. Cover design by S. Wendell Campbell.
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misswhateveryouwant · 2 months
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I can really imagine Phryne and Mac as pioneers of „sex toy parties“. How they plan everything while sipping Whiskey, invite a group of strong, independent women, present them the Percussor and explain the benefits of this massager...Phryne talks about her sex experiences and makes it clear that you should never be dependent on a man and that your own pleasure always comes first, while Mac gives tips on family planning…when Aunt P finds out everything and is about to have a heart attack.
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visionsofour-past · 1 year
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• Halloween Party at Cedar Hill.
Date: 1925
Photographer: Gustave Lorey
Medium: Gelatin Silver Print
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innervoiceartblog · 9 months
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Masked Ball Artist: Henry Patrick Raleigh
Henry Patrick Raleigh (1880-1944) was one of the most popular American illustrators during the 1920s and into the 1930s.
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endusviolence · 7 months
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Rowling isn't denying holocaust. She just pointed out that burning of transgender health books is a lie as that form of cosmetic surgery didn't exist. But of course you knew that already, didn't you?
I was thinking I'd probably see one of you! You're wrong :) Let's review the history a bit, shall we?
In this case, what we're talking about is the Institut für Sexualwissenschaft, or in English, The Institute of Sexology. This Institute was founded and headed by a gay Jewish sexologist named Magnus Hirschfeld. It was founded in July of 1919 as the first sexology research clinic in the world, and was run as a private, non-profit clinic. Hirschfeld and the researchers who worked there would give out consultations, medical advice, and even treatments for free to their poorer clientele, as well as give thousands of lectures and build a unique library full of books on gender, sexuality, and eroticism. Of course, being a gay man, Hirschfeld focused a lot on the gay community and proving that homosexuality was natural and could not be "cured".
Hirschfeld was unique in his time because he believed that nobody's gender was either one or the other. Rather, he contended that everyone is a mixture of both male and female, with every individual having their own unique mix of traits.
This leads into the Institute's work with transgender patients. Hirschfeld was actually the one to coin the term "transsexual" in 1923, though this word didn't become popular phrasing until 30 years later when Harry Benjamin began expanding his research (I'll just be shortening it to trans for this brief overview.) For the Institute, their revolutionary work with gay men eventually began to attract other members of the LGBTA+, including of course trans people.
Contrary to what Anon says, sex reassignment surgery was first tested in 1912. It'd already being used on humans throughout Europe during the 1920's by the time a doctor at the Institute named Ludwig Levy-Lenz began performing it on patients in 1931. Hirschfeld was at first opposed, but he came around quickly because it lowered the rate of suicide among their trans patients. Not only was reassignment performed at the Institute, but both facial feminization and facial masculization surgery were also done.
The Institute employed some of these patients, gave them therapy to help with other issues, even gave some of the mentioned surgeries for free to this who could not afford it! They spoke out on their behalf to the public, even getting Berlin police to help them create "transvestite passes" to allow people to dress however they wanted without the threat of being arrested. They worked together to fight the law, including trying to strike down Paragraph 175, which made it illegal to be homosexual. The picture below is from their holiday party, Magnus Hirschfeld being the gentleman on the right with the fabulous mustache. Many of the other people in this photo are transgender.
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[Image ID: A black and white photo of a group of people. Some are smiling at the camera, others have serious expressions. Either way, they all seem to be happy. On the right side, an older gentleman in glasses- Magnus Hirschfeld- is sitting. He has short hair and a bushy mustache. He is resting one hand on the shoulder of the person in front of him. His other hand is being held by a person to his left. Another person to his right is holding his shoulder.]
There was always push back against the Institute, especially from conservatives who saw all of this as a bad thing. But conservatism can't stop progress without destroying it. They weren't willing to go that far for a good while. It all ended in March of 1933, when a new Chancellor was elected. The Nazis did not like homosexuals for several reasons. Chief among them, we break the boundaries of "normal" society. Shortly after the election, on May 6th, the book burnings began. The Jewish, gay, and obviously liberal Magnus Hirschfeld and his library of boundary-breaking literature was one of the very first targets. Thankfully, Hirschfeld was spared by virtue of being in Paris at the time (he would die in 1935, before the Nazis were able to invade France). His library wasn't so lucky.
This famous picture of the book burnings was taken after the Institute of Sexology had been raided. That's their books. Literature on so much about sexuality, eroticism, and gender, yes including their new work on trans people. This is the trans community's Alexandria. We're incredibly lucky that enough of it survived for Harry Benjamin and everyone who came after him was able to build on the Institute's work.
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[Image ID: A black and white photo of the May Nazi book burning of the Institute of Sexology's library. A soldier, back facing the camera, is throwing a stack of books into the fire. In the background of the right side, a crowd is watching.]
As the Holocaust went on, the homosexuals of Germany became a targeted group. This did include transgender people, no matter what you say. To deny this reality is Holocaust denial. JK Rowling and everyone else who tries to pretend like this isn't reality is participating in that evil. You're agreeing with the Nazis.
But of course, you knew that already, didn't you?
Edit: Added image IDs. I apologize to those using screen readers for forgetting them. Please reblog this version instead.
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scoutswritingcorner · 6 months
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The Monster That Lurked
Alastor x GN!Reader
A/N:Hey hey! I'm in a really angsty mood and decided to write a full fledged fic about my own work of ‘Monster In The Woods’!!! YAY!!! ALSO A FRIENDS TO LOVERS DEAL- SUE ME. Also you can picture Human Alastor or Alastor anyway you want cause I don’t really describe him much except for what he is wearing and I picture Alastor a certain way in my head. This got long I apologize.
TW: Set in the 1920-30’s, Human Alastor and his murders. Pre-established relationships, cheating, Alastor “stealing” you away from your husband.Alastor and Reader have known each other for a long time already. Reader is also some sort of fucked up, in like the murder way. Talks about cheating, fighting, Gore, Christianity and religion in general. MURDER VERY MUCH MURDER
Word Count: 7k
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1927, the days filled with laughter and partying whilst listening to jazz standing with your husband..well you were waiting outside a sleazy bar for your husband, the same drunkard that your father had married you off to. He wasn’t your first choice neither was he your last choice. You would’ve been fine not marrying anybody and just living your life hidden from prying eyes, you would rather be somewhere in the Louisiana bayou with Alastor. Just sitting and listening to him ramble on about a new show he was talking about or how some poor lad got on his bad side. 
But yet you were standing on the sidewalk in front of a sleazy bar with even sleazier patrons as you stared at your husband through one of the windows as he hit on the same poor dame that served him. He cheated all the time and yet you never cared, was it because you never truly loved him or was it the fact you’d rather picture his own death while he begged god for his sins. You couldn’t tell anymore and a part of you didn’t want to know anymore. The other part of you wanted to delve deeper into your own thoughts, wanted to open the door that was locked and barricaded for your own good. You wanted to understand what it felt like to rip flesh from bone and see how long it would take for him to lose consciousness from the blood loss.
A loud honk from a passing car made you jump out of your skin and look around, feeling the small box in your pocket, it was supposed to be for your husband but he didn’t deserve it, he would’ve just sold it eagerly for some kind of money to waste his life away. That’s fine you knew a man who would appreciate it more than him anyway. The same man whose voice was happily broadcasted on every radio for miles around, you could practically hear his smile through the radio static and fuzz. Your heartbeat a little faster than it should’ve just thinking about him, he was your friend and that was it. Friends don’t have crushes on friends. This was just a way to spoil him for being a good friend of yours. Right?
You couldn’t bother him right now, you knew better so you did what you always did. Went back home and made yourself busy until he eventually made his way over to your house. He was always quick enough to get to your house before your drunken husband did but stayed around long enough (i.e in the early hours of the morning) so you wouldn’t have to deal with anything unnecessary and you eventually went to bed. Then he would’ve disappeared for a few days but he came back around. You didn’t question him or his ways, you knew better. A part of you did want to question his motives but you held your tongue like you always did.
Your husband wasn’t a necessarily violent man..just dumb and constantly drinking, said some nasty words too. If it wasn’t for you, Alastor would’ve probably done him in by now. Especially when he was talking bad about his Mother, you saw the way Alastor stared at your husband. The same angry look you gave him when he had gotten on your last nerve. But before Alastor could get to him, some other patron did. Knocked your husband’s nose sideways and a tooth completely out. Bastard deserved it completely and till this day you don’t visit that place. You needed a fucking drink thinking about your husband but the bastard drunk your house completely dry.
A knock on your front door snapped you out of your thoughts and as you turned towards your front door, the man of the hour had walked through your door. A huge grin plastered on his face, one hand holding a bottle of whiskey and in the other today's paper. “Ah ha! There you are, My Dear!” He called out his suit absolutely spotless. A smile formed on your lips as you grabbed two glasses from the cupboard, waving him towards one of the only rooms your husband doesn’t enter. “You had me worrying there for a moment,” He said tilting his head back towards you as he led you to the parlor room, “Maybe that husband of yours was back from wherever he was lurking.” He finished his smile falling into a snarl, Alastor was also not a huge fan of your husband from the start. You never asked why as you both didn’t want to think of him during your little time together.
“Please..you know better than I do that he’s hitting up on a poor dame at the bar.” You replied, sitting the glasses down on the table causing him to make a noise in acknowledgement, “At this point, Alastor..I’m believing you're a mind reader with how you just appear with whiskey in hand at my front door.” At that? He let out a loud belly laugh leaning in closer to you allowing his gaze to soften as he stared at your features before he leaned away opening the bottle of whiskey. This was going to be a long night for the both of you and you had forgotten all about the gift.
~~~
A couple weeks had passed since you last saw Alastor in person but you didn’t fret, he had called the next day to tell you he had made it back home safely. Something he had picked up ever since you had asked him to stay the night so long ago, you were-..are still scared of your own thoughts. The ones that dare creep out, the ones who tell you to crack open your husband’s chest and rip out his still beating heart. The ones who you don’t dare tell a soul and you sure as hell won’t tell Alastor, he’d think you're insane. But you knew..you were slowly losing yourself and everyday it was one step closer to killing your husband.
Walking into the kitchen and rolling your eyes seeing your husband looking like hell, “Hungover John?” You hissed out as you moved past him a grunt falling from his lips in reply, “Shut the fuck up..” He hissed out speech still slurred as half assed venom dripped from his tongue. “I wasn’t the one up at 1 in the morning drinking with that no good radio host.” You froze your hand twitching towards the knife on the counter but stopped yourself, “I wasn’t the one who was at the bar drinking his sorrows away whilst trying to bed another dame for the twentieth time this week.” You hissed back, sending a glare towards him. 
John stood up fully and walked towards you getting into your face, hand raising to no doubt strike you. But nothing came as someone cleared their voice, an icy cold tone to it. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Friend.” Alastor..fuck you forgot about him and his way of just walking into your house. You had drunkenly given him a key one night, ‘Just in case’ you told him. You were glad that you did because as soon as he heard Alastor’s cold voice he immediately backed up and stormed off deeper into the house.
Alastor’s cold gaze had followed the poor idiotic man as he disappeared into the home before they snapped back onto you. “Are you alright?” He asked the venom and anger laced in his voice gone but you saw how his eyes still held his anger, like they did when that fool had talked bad about his Mother. You often had envy and wished that you could know a mother’s gentle hand guiding you towards a better life. But criminals only give birth to criminals, your mother had left the Earth so long ago you don’t even remember what she looked like anymore but sometimes when you look into a crowd you see a familiar figure and a part of you becomes elated before it crashes and burns into the ground. 
“I’m fine, Alastor.” You replied softly as you glanced down the hallway where your husband stormed off. Alastor sat silent watching your face keep still but the sadness in your eyes was apparent, he knew you yearned for freedom and solace. He knew how you would rather be a thousand miles away from your “husband”- God he hated that word and man, if he could’ve he would’ve killed him a long time ago. Walking over he softly hummed, “Let me take you out on the town, Dear…a way to get your head cleared.” He whispered, reaching over and carefully placing his hand on your shoulder. He watched your eyes once almost so lifeless and dull flicker to life at the thought, “All day?” You asked, glancing at him, the warmness in your eyes returning, a small smile forming on your lips. Hook…line…and sinker, he’s got you right where he wants you, perfectly safe in his hands.
“Of course, Dear! Now go on, go get dressed!” he hummed his smile, returning as he guided you to go down to your own bedroom which was supposed to be the guest bedroom. You never explained why you had moved bedrooms but he didn’t need to guess or ask. It was abundantly clear to anyone who had stepped foot in your household, this “marriage” wasn’t full of love. It was only necessary and after the first year of it, you had grown cold. That man had taken away any semblance of your hope and happiness for a better life. Alastor hummed a tune that played from his radio broadcasts as he looked around your home, he’s seen the decor and fake photos that hung up on the wall a million times but yet it never gets old. Especially when he’s staring at the photo of you on your wedding day, the way the smile doesn’t reach your eyes. “What are you still doing here?” A slurred voice asked, causing him to calmly look over. His smile grew wider at the sight of the boy in front of him. That wasn’t a man..far from it. “Good to see you at least a little sober, Jonathan.” He hummed, dodging the question thrown his way. 
“Shut the fuck up, Alastor.” John threw back, moving closer as Alastor’s eyes darkened. Just a little closer..and then he’d be gone for good. “John!” You yelled out making the man flinch and Alastor’s heart raced, oh how he loved hearing that venom lace your tongue; it was always a delight to see how commanding you were when you wanted to be. When Alastor first met you, you were quiet yet happy and you hadn’t been married to this fool. Such a lovely little mouse minding your own business when you had accidentally bumped into him. He wouldn’t believe anyone if they said meeting you would change his life. You had spilled wine on his suit, yet you didn’t freak out when you saw his eyes flicker angrily. Only apologized and paid for his new suit with the money you had been saving up to leave for good, he wouldn’t find that out until a year later.
John looked over at you with anger but soon he once again stormed out of the house cursing you and Alastor. Alastor looked over at you with a gentle smile returning to his lips as he guided you to the front door. “Come now~ Let’s paint the town red, Dear” He called out laughing at his own little joke making you roll your eyes at his antics. Silly man.
~~~
Hours happily passed by and the day turned into night from swinging into tailors and from jazz clubs to socialite parties so you both could secretly judge people between hushed breaths, he eventually led you down to a park that was lit up with lampposts every so often before sitting down on a park bench under the moonlights soft glow. Your laughter had died down into a comfortable silence as you glanced over at Alastor. His leg crossed the other one, “I haven’t seen someone so eager to play the fool in one of those parties.” He laughed out, tapping his thumb on his knee, “Something on my face, Darling?” You jumped and looked away, “No no..sorry I..I’ve been lost in my own thoughts recently, Alastor.” 
He looked over at you, you were unusually silent the whole night. “Can I tell you something?” You asked, watching as you finally looked over, oh he could never get used to those eyes of yours and that darling little smile was everything to him. “Of course, Darling.” He reached over and carefully plucked a stray leaf from your shoulder, his attention fully on you. You looked down, hands trembling..you had to tell him, you could tell him right? “Nevermind it, you’d think I’d gone insane.” You corrected and cleared your throat leaning back into the cooled bench. You felt uncomfortably hot despite the cold air, winter was right around the corner.
Using his hand to rub at his chin as he hummed your favorite tune he played on air, this piqued his curiosity much more than he’d like to admit. “I’d never think such a thing, my friend!” He replied throwing his hand up in the air as if to actually try and swat those thoughts away from your mind. “Tell me whenever you feel ready to do so, my Dear!~” He was always willing to listen to you even if it was about nothing, your voice was practically music to his ears. Closing his eyes as a cold breeze hit his face as he continued to hum along to fill the silent night, he suspected it was your..’husband’..the cause of all your misery. The way your honeyed voice was now constantly laced with venom and authority as if you had to fight to even allow your voice to be heard. Your silence had felt like an eternity for him but he knew it had only been a moment or two, he didn’t realize how addicted to your voice he had become.
“I..I’ve been having thoughts.” You started making him look over at you, his eyes narrowing in concern at your form, how small you had looked at the moment. He had leaned forward and took his jacket off before draping it over your figure not minding how the cold nipped at his skin but he didn’t interrupt you, he knew better to do so. “Angry thoughts..well they started out that way but now they’ve turned into something more..violent.” You explained carefully pulling his jacket closer to your frame, eyes casted off in the woods. You imagine some man standing there, blood covering his hands and drenching his shirt, a wicked smile on his face as he looked up into the night sky and laughed out loud for god to hear him. 
Alastor followed your gaze as his humming slowed down until it completely stopped to allow the silence to fill the air, his smile pulling into a more sinister one at how he finally understood. The same one that happened to find its way on his lips after killing his latest victim, he quickly rubbed his hand over his mouth allowing the smile to drop before you could catch a glimpse of it. “I think of what it would feel like to rip flesh from bone..to finally choke him out..I want to know what it feels like to snub out a life..his life. I’m not a violent person and these thoughts terrify me, I try to keep them hidden but…sometimes they slip out.” You finish up finally noticing how tight your throat felt and the tears falling down your face. It felt great to finally get that off your chest but now the anxiety of it all set in, would he rat you out to the police? Would he hate you?
“I don’t remember when they started. Was it when I was forced to get married to him? I’d tell myself I can save enough money and start somewhere new..but then I’d miss you..miss your early morning show and our late night talks.” You confessed spilling your problems out onto the sidewalk like a drunkard when he had spilled his guts on the pavement. You were pathetic in your own way. Alastor watched you for a few moments before carefully pulling you into his side, using a handkerchief tucked into his vest pocket to carefully wipe your tears away. “No more tears, dear friend.” he whispered, allowing you to hide your face into his shoulder as his arm wrapped around your waist. 
He was at a crossroad in his own mind, should he tell you not to go with it? He wouldn’t want you to go into this dirty mess. But he also wants you to feel the rush of adrenaline when snubbing out a life, he wants to help. But either way if you did or didn’t he’d take care of it..in some way or another. No one should hurt his little mouse in such a way and get away with it. It was silent for a long time as you calmed yourself and he held you with a softness that was foreign to himself and most others. 
“I always..I always imagined running away with you..to some old house down near the bayou.” You whispered out feeling the familiar chain that hung on his vest, the one hidden under his jacket. He leaned his head against yours and hummed in reply. It sounded picture perfect in his mind.
~~~
You sat at the church pew next to your ‘husband’ and kept your head down as you listened in on the priest doing his normal sermon. The only time your husband had decided to not be drunk and clean up for once in his life was always on Sundays or when his family was coming over. Something you always ran away from, you stayed in the empty parlor with a glass of water and a small book. His mother was never kind to you nor his sisters, you chose to ignore them and their gossip. Especially when you had to be seated around them in a church talking about a man who you possibly didn’t believe in but was instead forced to hear this priest talk about whatever was in the bible. Your hands clasped together as your mind kept drifting off. 
It had only been two days since you told everything to Alastor, your feelings and how you wished to murder your own husband. You haven’t been able to talk to Alastor since which was fine, he was a very busy man after all. Lifting your head up as you felt your husband nudge your leg with his own, you sent him a glance ignoring how he was practically glaring at you. “Don’t embarrass me infront of my family” He hissed out as you glared at the wall. “They already know how rocky our relationship is, John.” You hissed back, about to leave but someone sat next to you keeping his head down, “Sorry I’m late, Dear Friend.” Alastor whispered, making the anger dissipate in a matter of seconds, “Mother wanted to go see an old friend,” He hummed and got comfortable next to you.
After an hour or maybe it was a good 10 minutes you couldn’t tell but Alastor had successfully dragged you away and out of the church under the guise of it being important and he couldn’t dare interrupt the sermon. You didn’t care now as you laughed at some joke that was pointed towards your husband, walking down the street arm in arm as he used his other hand to dramatically explain everything that’s happened between the hours you both had parted. The crying and confession long gone in your mind as you pointed out the flaws in his story but he had only reached over and pinched your nose between his fingers with only a half hearted threat of keeping his ‘secrets’. 
As you both walked down the street the laughter and conversation lulled into a peaceful silence. “Where are you taking me?” You asked, feeling a familiar presence in your pocket, the gift you had forgotten about for weeks now. “Just for a walk through the park, Dear.” He glanced at you from the corner of his eye, a smile had formed on your face but your eyes still had that faraway look in them. Guess you were going back into your own head again, “I got you something a while ago and forgot it in my jacket” you called out reaching into your jacket and pulling the small box out, you didn’t want to bring up the fact it was supposed to be a gift for your husband. Alastor abruptly stopped in his tracks and looked at you, “You didn’t need to do such a thing, Dear.” You only smiled at him and gave him the box, “I know..but I wanted to give it to you.” You whispered out watching as he opened the box, his eyes widening. It was one of the newer pocket watches that you’ve had your eyes on for a long while now, “Dearest I..I couldn’t take this.” He replied carefully, taking the watch out, flipping it open and smiling. “But you can..and you will cause it’s for you, Al..”
You loved seeing him smile like that, something that you had rarely seen when you first started hanging out. It’s still mostly rare, especially when he’s had a hard day or the simple fact that you sometimes don’t see him for days on end. He put the pocket watch back into the box carefully, “Guess I’ll have to find to pay you back now?” He hummed out placing the box into his pocket causing you to sigh, “You know you don’t have to do such a thing, Alastor. I..I don’t deserve it.” Only criminals give birth to criminals and criminals don’t get nice things. 
“Oh but I think you do,” He replied and leaned down to gently tap your forehead, “Despite what those thoughts of yours tell you.” You blinked and stared at him, “You know me too well,” You huffed turning away from him. “Not well enough!” He called happily following after you and quickly catching up, long legged bastard. You looked up at him as he held out his arm, “Are you sure about that, Alastor? I think you know me better than most people.” You said carefully taking hold of his arm, he chuckled and quicked his step making you practically had to speed walk to catch up with him.
The night truly didn’t stop until you were almost on the verge of passing out from laughter and how sleep creeped up on your shoulders. Alastor’s arm was snuggly wrapped around your waist to keep you upright as the sandman was practically calling your name. “Come on now, one foot up the step.” He whispered as he guided your sleepy self up onto your own porch. “I can walk fine, Alastor. I’m not drunk,” You whispered, shaking your head trying to fight off how your eyes grew heavier. You don’t like being up past a certain time in the early mornings but for Alastor you would’ve done it a million times over….Maybe you did have a crush on him but he wouldn’t love you back in a million years. 
You don’t remember when you got into your bedroom, did you black out on him? Yet he was still holding you against his chest as he swayed you to an imaginary rhythm. “And here I thought you had fallen asleep on me already.” He whispered out, causing you to jump out of your skin for a second before you huffed, “Sorry, didn’t mean to do so.” You replied leaning back to try and smooth out his shirt, now noticing his jacket was draped near the door of your bedroom. “Nonsense, I find it comforting in a way that you trust me to fall asleep near me.” He replied watching you, his bow tie had been undone for a couple hours now but watching the way you had subconsciously fixed it for him made his heart race and butterflies erupt in his stomach.
His mind wandered off watching as you blinked the sleep from your eyes to make sure he still looked presentable. He wondered sometimes what it would be like if he married you instead of that idiotic man. “..Don’t leave for too long this time, Al..I know I’ll eventually hear your voice on the radio but sometimes it’s not the same..” You whispered out glancing back up at him, his gloved hand reaching up to cup your face tracing the bags under your eyes with his thumb, “I’ll try, Cher..” He replied as he leaned down to press his head against yours. He couldn’t promise it but he’d try especially since he has been working so hard on his plan to get rid of that idiotic husband of yours.
You leaned your head up, allowing for your noses to brush against one another. His arms were still wrapped around your waist, one of his hands splayed on the middle of your back. Then it had hit you, all those times he had pulled you away from your husband and took you to the places you loved..was he silently courting you? Had he been doing so for days now and you were just too stupid to notice? You gently cupped his face and watched as he had opened his eyes, when did he close them? “I..Alastor? Have you been courting me?” Your voice was only above a whisper making him freeze in his tracks. He was silent for a long time before he nodded and sighed. “I have been yes,” He replied and you felt your face warm, seemingly all of the tiredness from before had dissipated. 
His gloved hands came up to carefully grasp onto yours as your thumb caressed his cheek, a faint scar that had healed overtime. You remembered when you saw the scar, yet you never asked, figuring he would’ve told you when he decided to do so. He had yet to say a word about it so it must’ve not been important. In the years that you had known him, you’ve grown to love him and to be wary of him all at the same time. He was a wild mutt waiting to sink his teeth into any fresh meat he could find, he wasn’t the one to be tamed or “domesticated” and you surely would never think to tie him down to a preconceived notion such as marriage or a family life. It took someone truly special to worm their way into his heart and that was a tough act, nonetheless, he had picked and prodded at the worst parts of you wanting to see how quick it took for you to finally snap at him, show your fangs and reveal your weak spots to him. He loved the game of it.
Yet here he was, the same wild animal that used to raise his hackles and bare its sharp teeth was essentially laying down and showing his belly to you. He’d disappear to find his fill and get those fangs bloodied before he’d make his way back to you. Maybe everyone who told you to stay away was right, he wasn’t a man to stick around but here you were inviting the man into your home day after day because you just couldn’t get enough of him. 
Blinking your thoughts away you focused on Alastor, how he had leaned closer to you. “May I?” He whispered, ever the gentleman he was, his hands carefully squeezing yours as you nodded your head a small smile on your lips. Wordlessly, he closed the gap and gently kissed you. At first it was such a small kiss but you didn’t want it to end, you just got a taste of what it felt like to be loved..actually loved and it felt amazing, that one small kiss turned into a bigger one as his hands fell down to hold onto your sides.
You would be asleep until lunch the next day, the memory still fresh on your mind as you awoke to find a small gift box on your bedside table. You were going to kill Alastor.
~~~
You sat in an office, legs crossed as you watched the lawyer in front of you collect some papers and give you a passing glance every so often. “Now, it’s to my knowledge you are looking to file for a divorce?” The man asked, causing you to nod, “Now is there a reason for this divorce?” You huffed, how many times did you have to explain it? “Infidelity, I’ve caught him one too many times and I’d rather make this quick.” You huffed out venom lacing your tongue as you watched the older gentleman nod and produced some papers. 
After an hour of signing papers and making everything on record you had finally gone home. You didn’t even greet your husband when you walked inside, just placed the papers on the table and left for the day ignoring how he yelled out for you. You had walked all the way to the park, the same park Alastor had walked you to all those weeks ago and you spilled your darkest secrets out into the open. Sitting on the same bench as you watched people pass by as your eyes drifted to the woods, you also knew Alastor was an avid hunter and you’d be alone for a while longer as deer season came around. You’d be alone with your husband and your thoughts. You hoped this divorce would go through but it was a slim chance and then you would rightfully be kicked out of church for thinking of doing such a thing. Laughter rang in your ears as you got lost in your own world, your eyes glued onto the Doe walking out of the collection of trees to find something to eat on.
As the doe finally found something to snack on it had turned its head up and towards you. A small part of you felt a twinge of dread as you stared at the doe and the other part felt calm as the feeling started to grow and settle into the pit of your stomach, your breathing slowed down considerably before the doe had run off seemingly spooked away. You frowned and watched as it disappeared further into the woods. Gloved hands clamped down onto your shoulders making you jump up in surprise and let out a loud scream as Alastor’s laugh was heard from behind you.
 You turned on your heel ignoring the passerby who looked on in confusion, “I’m going to kill you, Alastor.” You hissed out trying to hide the prominent blush on your features and how your lips creeped up into a smile. He smirked, he knew you didn’t actually mean you would kill him. Your version of ‘kill’ meant you would simply get him back later in some kind of fashion. You were a smart person after all. “I’m sorry, Dear! You were so out of sorts you looked primed for me to scare you.” He hummed and moved to sit down on the bench, his hand patting the spot next to him. You let out a loud sigh sitting next to him, “What’s on your mind?” He hummed out fixing his gloves before moving to brush imaginary dust off his pants. 
You were silent for some time trying to figure out the words in your head, “I gave John divorce papers today.” you whispered out causing him to look over trying to hide the growing smile on his face, you still haven’t brought up the kiss you both shared the night before and you were scared to do so. “Really?” He hummed, leaning back against the bench using one hand to tap a melody on his knee, “I’m just waiting for him to sign it and see if the court will..allow the divorce to happen.” He didn’t answer and looked ahead as the conversation lulled into a comfortable silence. Your mind raced as another cold breeze hit you in the face, what would you do if the court denied the divorce? Would Alastor still..be by your side? The thoughts raced and raced but before you could delve deeper, a warm inviting hand was placed onto your shoulder causing you to look over at him confused but leaned into the warmth.
“It’s going to be okay, Dear. Don’t let those thoughts run you ragged now.” You nodded at his words and smiled, “Figured you’d be out hunting by now.” That made him let out a small laugh as his smile grew wider and went off on a tangent about hunting and how to actually be a good hunter.
You’d be fine.
~~~
You’d be fine.
Those were the words echoing in your head as you were now standing in your kitchen hands on the counter as you stared down at the broken glass cup as you heard your husband yell at you. The amber liquid is now spilling onto the wooden floor, your cheek burned like hell and you tasted the iron in your mouth as you unclench your jaw allowing your teeth to free themselves from your tongue. You stormed over to the phone and used the rotary dial to call a familiar number that you had stuck in the back of your mind. Alastor. You don’t remember the start of the conversation. All you could mumble between the stinging pain and blood in your mouth was, “Come over..It’s an emergency.” Before hanging up abruptly.
The next few moments were quick in your mind but you knew it took far much longer to do as your hands trembled. Grabbing whatever heavy metal object you could find in the vicinity, as your husband turned to face you once more. The fear in the man’s eyes as you swung and hit him in the face, breaking his nose with a sickening crack. He fell to the floor, his hands moving to cover his nose as he stared up into your empty anger filled eyes, god..it felt good to see him as nothing but a pathetic ant beneath your feet. It felt invigorating as you dropped to your knees one hand holding him down as you continuously bashed the item into his face until he was nothing more than a lifeless body surrounded by a pool of his own blood.
You stared down at him and then the blood covering your hands as tears formed into your eyes and a sob bubbled up from your throat but you weren’t sad. Far from it..you were relieved as you looked up at the ceiling falling flat on your ass as you started to laugh between horrid sobs. Your hands grasping at your shirt laughing louder until your cheeks hurt from how long you were smiling and as Alastor finally came into your vision. The smile faltered for a moment as another loud sob wracked your body, “I did it, Al..I did it-” You choked out as you curled into yourself. “It felt so fucking good..I felt fucking invincible.” You hissed out blood dripping from your mouth and onto the floor. “Oh god- I finally fucking did it.”
Alastor walked over calmly and quietly, his hands clasping on your shoulders. His suit was long gone as when you called him he was in the middle of getting ready to go out ‘hunting’ but when he heard your desperation, he rushed over immediately. “You did and I’m so proud of you, Dearest..but go get cleaned up and I’ll deal with the mess, yes?” He whispered into your ear as you let out another sob allowing him to help you stand up on your two feet. As he helped you to your own bathroom and got you fresh clothes, he went back to the freshly dead body in your kitchen and smirked. “Got what you had comin’ old boy.” He hissed out before starting to get to work cleaning up the mess.
It didn’t take him long to clean up but now he had to find a way to actually get rid of the body. In your backyard? No, that's too suspicious..in the woods? Maybe but he doesn’t want you to have another breakdown. But he would have to wait until night time so right now? He’s going to have to play the part just in case people start to suspect something. He looked around and draped a blanket over the body before dragging it towards an empty room.
When he had walked back to the kitchen, he had watched as you were carefully cleaning up the shards of glass. Walking over he had finally noticed the blooming bruise on your cheek causing a part of him to be angry. “He hit you?” He whispered out helping you stand up, “Yeah..after we got home after the court denied the appeal..said I embarrassed him and broke a cup over my head before slapping me.” You whispered your speech slurred from your swollen tongue making you flinch, “What do I do now?” You whispered out, allowing him to gently grab your chin, “I don’t know what to do, Al..” His eyes softened and he sighed, “Sit down and I’ll cook something for you, Dear. We are gonna have to wait till nightfall.” He hummed, pressing a gentle kiss upon your head.
Later that night, he had helped you bury your ex husband deep in the forest, he mostly did all the dirty work but he did explain how to hide a body. 
~~~
It was now 1931, four years after you had killed your ex husband and a year after the economy collapsed. You and Alastor had moved in with one another and while not officially married by the courts you both loved one another and acted as such. Wearing a wedding ring on your finger told everyone you were either remarried or you still loved your poor ex husband that was murdered in cold blood by the rampant serial killer that was on the loose. Which would be far from the truth.
His family blamed you for his murder, calling you every name in the book and berating you for ‘kicking him out of the house’ which also wasn’t the truth. Yet another lie your ex had spun to keep his pride intact, you didn’t care in all honesty. The man was gone now..killed by your hands.
But here you were walking down the dark streets of New Orleans to get back home to your loving Beau, you had heard through the grapevine he was having a rough day and hoped to cheer him up that night but as you continued to walk down the street you realized that you were being followed. But maybe not maybe it was just your paranoia, but still you felt like a waiting duck, taking a turn down an alleyway and then another hoping to lose the trail of whoever was following you. 
It wasn’t until you had gotten to a familiar part of town out near the bayou that you felt relatively calmer but then that was stomped on when you heard a yell from behind. You looked back thinking it was one of the friendly neighbors but it wasn't. It was the man from before the same one who was following you. You dropped the book you were holding and broke out into a sprint down towards where your house was, trying your best to dodge anything that could hurt you. Then a loud shot rang out and it sounded like thunder causing your body to freeze up for a second. But you continued to keep running, you just needed to get home..you could see the smoke billowing from the chimney and the soft glow of the lights inside.
Your heartbeat was banging on your chest as you ran, you were almost there..you could see Alastor inside before a loud SNAP echoed through the silent air as you fell face first into the ground. 
You scrambled to get up sobbing as you looked back to see a trap digging into your leg, its sharp teeth scraping against bone as you sat up watching as the man got closer. “Fuck fuck-” you hissed out as you started to painfully get the jaws of the trap unstuck and scrambled off ignoring how your leg was burning. You yelled out for Alastor before another loud shot echoed through the air. The constant buzzing of the cicadas had gone silent as you fell to the ground gasping for air. Oh god it hurt, your hands moved to clutch your stomach as you looked up at the man, pistol in his hand pointed right between your eyes, “You killed my brother.” He hissed out his voice breaking as you teared up and begged him to let you go.
Tears cascaded down your face as he yelled, whispering some prayer that spilled past your lips and then the night went silent. As the gun had fallen down the hammer hit the ground first causing the gun to be set off, the bullet flying into the sky of the New Orleans Bayou. You trembled laying on the ground sobbing as you brought your hands up to see blood covering them the moonlight had casted down upon you as you sobbed out. There was movement before your head was lifted up and cradled into your Husband’s chest. His familiar cologne invades your senses in a comfortable way as he shakily tries to stop the bleeding. 
“It’s going to be okay, Cher..I’ll fix you right up.” he whispered into your hair as he pressed his hand onto your stomach. You were bleeding out too much as your breathing started to slow. No no it wasn’t supposed to end like this, tears raced down his cheeks as he pulled you closer as your hand weakly grasped around his sobbing out how you didn’t want to die. But he knew he couldn’t help you, he was far too late to properly help you and it was too far to get you to a doctor. “Sing me a song, Al?” You whispered out, “One last song?” he nodded and cleared his throat, watching as the light in your eyes slowly faded as he sung your favorite song.
He stayed like that for an extra hour, holding your lifeless body to his and singing all your favorite songs before he finally had the courage to find a place to bury you properly, making sure that when the sun rose the next morning it’s first rays it sent out over the bayou would hit your grave. You always did love watching the sun rise and listening to his broadcasts.
He would meet you again, he just knew it. He just didn’t know when.
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melanirana · 3 months
Text
A Tune and a Drink
singer!reader x bartender!sun/ moon
Suprise! Have a little something. You are a singer in the 1930's and two specific bartenders have caught your eye, just like you have caught theirs.
I even have a musik recommendation for this one. Habits - Vintage 1930's cover and Levitating - 1920s style cover by PostmodernJukebox on YouTube. Check em' out they're really good.
with that said, enjoy
It’s the 1930’s, the era of glamour, fashion, parties but most of all, good music. Big cities are getting bigger, new opportunities arise on all sides, technology is advancing and you are right in the middle of it.
You are known throughout the whole city, not famous enough to be known across states but known enough that clubs and bars fight to have you sing on their stage. To have you bless their establishments with your voice and draw in the people, so these people make their bar The City Bar.
Whenever you agree to sing at their club they make it known immediately. Whether that is through the newspaper, telling their guests who tell it their acquaintances, or hanging papers around the city. 
“downright heavenly”
“the voice of an angel”
“as powerful as it’s wonderful”
“rich with a beautiful smoky undertone” they call your voice. A bit of an exaggeration you think, you can agree on the smoky undertone but the rest. It must be because you hear your voice every day, when you wake from sleep, when you talk, when you warm up, when you practice when you sing.
But other people only hear you when you sing, it isn’t often it is a special occasion, it is desired it is sought after. To them it means so much and therefore it means so much to you. To sing for people, to lighten their day, to make them happy.
There is barely ever you turn down an offer to sing, it is simply a matter of when you have time again. More often than not you don’t come back to a bar for a month or two, too busy singing somewhere else, writing, or any other reason.
So why is it, that even with such a full schedule, you always find time to come back to sing at one certain high-profile bar named Celestias. 
People wonder. Is it close to home. Do you have a deal with the bar. Does it mean something to you. Is it the celebrities that frequent this establishment. Or is it simply the wonderful view of the river that divides the city, that flows right by the building.
All good guesses, but utterly wrong.
The reason you keep returning is the bar, those how tend to it specifically. Two highly advanced Animatronics.
Metal polished like a brand new 540 K Special-Roadster, but not just a car. Highly advanced machinery capable of many things, but not an industrial machine. Eyes that see, hands that move, mouths that speak, but not human.
The robot pair is truly unique with their circular faces and wonderful colors. One bright as a golden Charleston-dress under a chandelier, eyes so wonderfully bleu they seem to be carved out of the ocean itself with a crown of metallic rays. The other shines like a blue evening gown under a low light, eyes as dangerous and enticing as a ruby with a long silk night cap that looks like it was sewn from the night sky.
Both with crescents that split their faces in the fashion of theater masks.
Both wear high-quality suits, the black of the suits contrast with their color, making their color shine even more and complementing their long limbs. A thick tie sits at the base of their slim metal necks, the end tucked neatly into their suits. The golden animatronic’s tie is a rich scarlet as well as his half gloves that always cover the animatronic’s hands. The blue animatronic’s tie and gloves contrast his counterparts wonderfully with their deep navy blue.
The robots are the bar's pride and joy, placed where everybody passes by, and the reason why they come here. The bar.
You noticed the animatronics the first time you visited, they were hard to miss as the owner proudly showed you them, even when it was from across the room. After that you had no time to pay the two bartenders any mind, quickly surrounded by people eager to meet you followed by your performance only to once again be surrounded by more people.
It was only your third visit that you truly saw them, and saw them you did. In the middle of your performance your gaze wandered to the bar, and what you saw was the golden robot cleaning a glass and looking at you.
You were no stranger to being looked at, your place was the stage after all, but the way the robot looked at you was different from the usual. Almost love-struck in that wonderful half-lidded lazy smile kind of way.
Your response to the animatronic’s gaze was a particular smile while singing a more romantic part of your song. This would have people hiding their faces as they reddened, have them melting on the table they are leaning on, or your favorite, bring a hand to their face as they hide their giddy giggles.
This however was not the response you got from the bartender.
Instead, you got a raised eyebrow and an amused smile, the robot placed the glass below the counter without braking eye contact. “Are you sure?” he said without making a sound. A challenge.
A challenge that you accepted.
For the rest of your performance during any particular romantic part of the song you made sure to let your gaze glide to the bar and exchange look with it’s bartender. His expression had changed ever so slightly from the first time you caught him looking. Still mostly the same but now with a hint of danger mixed in.
You could feel the tension between the bar and the stage rise with each exchanged look, neither of you breaking eye contact during the few seconds you had.
It was the most exciting performance you had in a long while, but it had to come to an end. The night just started and you needed to save your voice for your continued performance later in the night.
Immediately you were surrounded and distracted by people once you started your brake. Even though you couldn’t see the bartender you were pretty sure he saw you. Shortly after you began your brake a waiter came up to you, on a silver platter sat a single beautiful decorated crystal glass. The glass is short and wide like a whisky glass.
A rich orange liquid filled the short glass to a perfect half. When you asked the waiter who sent you the drink he simply said “It’s on the house.” You had ever the slightest hunch from whom it came. When you sipped from the glass the taste of honey sweet and yet smoky whisky filled your mouth, followed by a fruity aftertaste.
You couldn’t help the little that spread on your lips.  
Later in the evening, your performance continued. But this time it was not the golden robot tending to the bar but his blue counterpart. A little childish part of you wanted to make the two bartenders jealous of each other, make them vie for your attention.
While resting the owner had told you more about the robots, how highly advanced they were, how they are unique and that there is no second pair like them, how they work together like a well-oiled machine. “Almost like twins,” he said.
‘Twins’
Maybe you can cause a little bit of a sibling rivalry then.
Nothing too bad, just a little bit of fun.
You didn’t even need to get the robot's attention, when you let your gaze wander to the bar he was already giving it all to you. You went through the whole routine again, you smile at the bartender during a romantic part of the song, he raises one eyebrow in a challenge and you accept.     
And just like his counterpart, he did not break eye contact as the few seconds you had each song ticked by.
This went on for a few songs until his counterpart returned. When you looked back to the bar you saw the two of them talking, the blue one facing away from you and the other blocked by his counterpart. They looked neither irate or iterated, rather they looked natural at least from what you could tell during those few seconds before you returned your gaze to the guest. 
Oh, too bad.
Maybe they figured out what you trying to do and decided to ignore you then. You couldn’t really blame them, even if you did. A fun challenge ended because you wanted some excitement in your life.
When next you returned your gaze to the bar you where meet not by one but two pairs of glowing eyes, both pairs half lidded accompanied by lazy smiles. The two robots have banded together.
Two robots band together against you in order to win this challenge, that is known only to you three. They might have been at a numbers advantage, but if they thought that you were going to let them win they were in the wrong. You were not going to back out just because it got more exciting. 
And so this challenge went on for the rest of the evening and into the night, unbeknownst to the other guests in the large room. 
By the time your performance ended it was well into the night, the sun was long gone and the moon took its place in the sky.
And just like always the moment you step off the stage you were surrounded by people eager to snag all your attention for themselves. You gave them your attention, but not all. Just like on stage, you glanced towards the bar but there were no eyes meeting you.
The bartenders had returned to their duty, now that your performance was over the guests wanted their drinks. Both animatronics hands move at impossible speed around the bar, you were surprised they didn’t knock anything over at the speed at which they were moving.
Your challengers are distracted by their duty so you allowed yourself the be distracted as well.
Not long after a different waiter came up to you, on the silver platter a tall wide decorated crystal glass. It almost looked like a whine glass but not quite, that moment you decided that you’d have to brush up on your glass etiquette. The liquid inside this glass was deep red, along the edge a ring of sugar.
Again as you asked who this is from the waiter said “It is on the house.”
You toke a sip and the sweet flavor of wine spread across your tongue along with a light taste of citrus from the ring around the glass.
That’s when you decided you have to come back and come back often.
And so you did.
Over the following months, you were at the bar at the very least once a month. Every time without fail, after you went on brake or finished your performance, a waiter would come up to you with a wonderfully decorated glass and the best-tasting drink inside of it.
Once, when your voice wasn’t the best to the point where it was hard to miss that you weren’t at your best, a waiter brought you a simple glass, inside was warm milk with honey when you asked who sent it the answer was “The bar.”
Months and months have past, and a good amount of change happened both in your career and in your relation ship with the bartenders.
Career-wise you have taken off. Now recognized and sought after outside the state you were busy going to new locations, meeting new people, meeting contemporaries, and singing your new songs.
You were outside the city more often and longer, but you made it a point to always drop by your bartenders.
Your bartenders, with whom you have not exchanged a single word since you first saw each other. The bartenders with whom your relationship has developed past a simple challenge.
The looks you exchange have not increased in length, which was nigh impossible while you stand on stage, but they have increased intensity.
Their looks are no longer love-struck but devouring. Every time they look at you they drink up your entire being, as if your existence and your existence alone keeps them alive. They now let their eyes wander across your form, you never see them doing it but you can feel their eyes on you.
As their eyes travel up and down your body, drinking it in. The way you move, the way your costume lays against your skin, the slightest of wrinkles in your clothing, the smallest of hairs it doesn’t matter. They absorb it all, like a flower after drought drinking up all the water it can get.
That night when you first noticed their eyes traveling you, you almost lost the challenge. 
When your gaze followed the path it took so many times before, you saw them. Sitting behind the bar counter, leaning on it as they rested their faces in their hands. They had no shame as they showered you with their affection, attention, adoration and anything else they could give you through their eyes alone.
You immediately felt your face heat up and the urge to hide your face but you caught yourself before you looked away. Your cheeks remained a soft shade of pink trough the rest of the night and your singing had a bit more pep in your step.
Not long after you reviled a new song that made big waves and that caused you to become more known. A song about the sun and the moon, how the singer basks in the sun's warm light, how the singer would follow the moon's beautiful light anywhere and never feel alone, how the singer oh so loves the celestial bodies and their wonderful light, how they wouldn’t know how to live without them.
You let the song spread before you visited your favorite bar again, you wanted to play with them before returning the favor of a warm face. And play with them you did. You teased, called members of the audience the sun and the moon, said how the song is devoted to all and everyone. You played up how this song is to remind of the things one easily takes for granted and that whole spiel.
In the corner of your eye you could see how the robots seemed to deflate with each word. It hurt, and a lot more than you expected but you had to do it so it would hit just as hard as their affection.
When the part came where the singer talks about their love for the sun and moon you let your gaze wander before firmly landing on the bartenders, you had not looked to them before this part of the song. You didn’t care to hide your smug smile on your face as you look at your dear bartenders.
And it worked, like a charm.
They went rigid as they listened to the words coming out of your mouth, completely and fully directed at them.
The cheeks of the robots started to glow a bright orange as some mechanism in their face began to overheat, small puffs of steam expelled from their joints as they tried to cool themselves. And just like you, they almost lost the challenge.
Those few seconds felt like hours, hours their eyes were glued onto you before you released them. From the corner of your eye you could see them fanning their face, desperately trying to cool the mechanism in their face and failing.
For the rest of your performance, their cheeks remained a soft warm orange.
And now, here you are.
Sitting in front of your vanity in your brand new apartment right above your favorite bar. The owner had gifted it to you as a thanks for visiting the bar so often and coincidentally bringing in more guests and therefore income.   
Said guests have started to slowly leave the bar below as it is about to close. You can hear the distant chatter of people through your open balcony door. After one more look at yourself in your vanity mirror, checking your makeup and hair to see if it is acceptable to leave your apartment in these conditions, you get up the close the balcony door.
The chatter has significantly lessened since the beginning of closing time. The few people outside must be the last stragglers.
The bar is now officially closed.
When you return to your vanity you catch yourself in the mirror again. Your simple dark blue dress pants reach slightly over your ankle. They blend well together with your black shoes, they are not your highest shoe when it comes to heel shoes but your favorite, they give you just a few inches more.
A light green poke dot poncho hangs from your shoulders, down to your thighs. It's loose and frilly, one of your favorites. It shows enough of your silhouette but not too much, even if that doesn’t really matter since you’ve worn very form-fitting costumes on stage before.
And yet again you contemplate your looks, you have been doing this for far too long. Changing outfits, makeup, hairstyles and changing the outfit again.
You never have trouble picking an outfit for performances before. So why is it that you are struggling now to pick an outfit, your not even preparing for a performance.
You just want to finally actually meet your bartenders.
You have been exchanging looks with them for months, basically flirted with each other back and forth. Hell, you have even confessed each other's love for one another. You wrote an entire song to do it.
So why are you so nerves.
You look at yourself in the mirror for many moments and as the doubts about your clothing start to make their way back in your head and gnawing at your confidence, you all but run out the door. If you change again you’ll never meet the two.
They are already head over heels for you and so are you.
You make your way down the stairs. The staircase is illuminated by small decorative lamps along the walls, their colored glass shades bath the space in a warm yellow. With a rhythmic tack tack tack of your heals you make your way down the stairs.
Once you’re at the bottom you stand in the back hallways of the bar. No simple guest is allowed back here and yet the hallways are equally as decorated as the main floor. You haven’t had time to familiarize yourself with the all corridors, but you know the way to the stage entrance.
The path is well light and as you step on to the backstage, slowly you pass the curtain that decorates the side of the stage, the light just above welcomes you as always. Your heart is beating like insane in your chest and you have to take a couple of deep breaths to calm before you fully step out onto the stage.
The view of this usably packed place, now completely empty is more than a bit strange but that is not what you focus on. You focus on the bar and its lack of attendants. The bar sits completely empty, there is not a single metallic shine of robotic limbs to be seen. To say your heart drops would be an understatement.
Did you miss them, they should be here, they are always behind the bar. Do they just leave once the bar is closed.
Where are they.
As fear begins to pluck at your heartstrings, what if you don’t meet them now, will you ever actually meet them. Are the three of you cursed to only look at each other.
Suddenly a muffled noise from somewhere even further behind the bar gets your attention. You walk to the very edge of the stage and lean over the edge to listen for that muffled noise again.
It sounds like a conversation. And just when you think that it might be them, you see a flash of blue pass by a doorway in the bar’s wall that you didn’t even notice was there. All these months you look at the bar and nerve noticed that it has a backroom, well you were more so looking at the bartenders. But that doesn’t matter now, they are still here, you didn’t miss them.
Immediately your mood brightens by the power of the sun. You hop of the stage as quietly as possible and tiptoe your way to the bar counter. Easier said than done thanks to your heals. 
You are full of energy and nerves, your heart is doing leaps in your chest. You are as giddy as a kid whose dad is taking them to the toys shop to pick out a new toy.
In an attempt to stop the giggle building in your throat you bite your tongue. However that doesn’t stop the stupid smile on your face from spreading.
In on swift and quite motion you sit yourself on one of the bar chairs. You remain unnoticed. On top of the bar counter are two little bras bells, one with details painted in yellow and the other in blue. You have a hunch for what these bells are for.
Past the door, the conversation between the unknowing animatronics continues. You take one deep breath, then you ring both bells at once with a gentle tap of your finger. The sound the bells make is beautiful and light, but your trained ear can hear that one of the bells has a bit more reverb than the other.
The conversation comes to a stop and hear what you think is a synthetic sigh. Then out from the door steps one of your dear bartenders. His rays catch the light from above and give him the appearance of a glowing crown. His wonderful blue eyes don’t meet yours as he looks down to his hands where he works on putting his red half-glove back on his exposed hand.
His had is a wonderful shining chrome, the tips of his fingers are a brilliant yellow.
When he speaks his voice is butter-smooth and honey-sweet when he talks. “The bar is closed for tonight.” He sounds exhausted, like he had to have this conversation often. “I’ll have to ask you to leave-“
He finally looks up and meets your eyes, immediately freezing mid-step. He looks at you wide-eyed, surprised to see you of all people here.
“Oh, if you don’t want me here I can leave again.” You say as you turn on the chair as if to get up. “Ah- No. Stay.” The animatronic blurts out as he steps closer to the counter, one ungloved hand stretch out as if to stop you from leaving.
You lean back on the counter and smile at the sunbot, resting your head on the palm of your hand. “I’ll stay then.”
“Yes stay here.” The animatronic says quietly, sweetly, as he moves even closer. He drinks in your very being like he did so many times before, only closer now.
Your face warms up, about to catch fire. Already you can tell, that if he speaks even more sweetly to you, this will be a lethal encounter.
At least you know the names of your demise, after all the bar owner proudly told you their names during your very first performance.
From behind your Sun his counterpart emerges, his nightcap lazily resting on his shoulder, he is also not wearing his half gloves. Just like his counterpart, his hands are a shining chrome and his fingertips are a deep blue.
“Sun, what’s going on?”
You just about die. His voice is nothing short of heavenly. Deep and lush, simply beautiful. You can feel the vibration of his voice down your spine.
The lunar bot meets your eyes and visibly brightens. “Oh~.” You are deceased. “Finally decided to visit us~.” The animatronic says with a grin, showing his sharp teeth. He steps around his counterpart and stands next to him.
“Oh, you know. I had nothing else to do.” You lean forward, closer to them and fold your fingers together before resting your head on them. Both robots lean forward as well, closing the distance between you even more.
“Plus, I thought things were getting a bit boring, so I thought we make it a bit more exiting.” The smile that spreads across your face is smug.
Both bots raise their eyebrows, just like they did the first time. “More exciting? And how might we do that.” The golden bot asks.
Without saying a word you free your hand and reach for the sun bots face. His gaze follows your hand. Gently and slowly you reach under the bots chin and lift it, from where he was looking down at your hand, to look at you.
“Oh, nothing too big.” You say sweetly.
His internal workings kick into overdrive, the wiring inside his chest becomes louder, puffs of steam seep through his suit and the metal of his cheeks becomes a hot orange. The rays around his face fold back against his head and he stammers something before he wraps his hand around yours and removes it from his face as it is getting to hot.
However, he doesn’t let go of your hand.
Next to him, Moon lets out a dark chuckle and it’s your turn to melt.
“Playing the jealousy game again?” The bot accuses you amused. “It was worth a try. Don’t you think?” You retort playfully.
He chuckles again. His gaze lands on Sun who has slightly recovered from your flirt, now he examines your hand with a loving fascination. You follow Moon's gaze and watch Sun as he gently turns over your hand.
It is only then that you realize how much bigger Sun's hand is compared to yours, his hand completely engulfs your with ease. A few seconds later you realize how much bigger they are in general. Sitting at a bar with a human bartender, you see eye to eye but with these two you have to crane your neck to look them in the eye, even if they are already hunched over.
So lost in your realization, you barely notice the hand that is coming towards your face. Blue fingertips gently tuck a strand of hair behind your ear before tracing your skin and cupping your face.
You can't help but lean into the cool chrome hand and let out a small sigh. You relax as a cool thump softly draws circles on your cheek and yellow-tipped fingers work their way up your arm.
And there you remain for longer, with your dear bartenders, no longer confined to look at you, but now able to touch you just as gently as they looked at you.   
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deconstructthesoup · 3 months
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Looked at my Dead Boy Detectives swap AU, decided that it could be better, and ran with it. So... here ya go.
(For those of you who need a refresher---it's an AU where Crystal and Niko are the ghosts and Charles and Edwin are the alive ones. "Dead Girl Detectives," basically.)
Crystal is pretty much unchanged from the original concept---she died in the 1920's, she was a psychic socialite with absent parents, and she acted like the quintessential spoiled wild-child while secretly being fascinated by detective stories. She died when she got possessed by David the demon, who puppeted her body around for weeks... until she finally managed to wrench back some form of control, threw both of them off of a building, and wound up getting sent to Hell. Now that she's out and living free as a ghost, she's doing her level best to leave her old self behind and be a better person---partly for herself, but also so she can prove that she doesn't deserve eternal punishment if Hell ever comes for her again.
Niko's still an anime geek from the 1990's who was an outcast in life, but her death circumstances are different. Instead of dying from the dandelion sprites, she accepted an invitation to a party in an effort to try and socialize more after her father's death... and she got killed in a prank gone wrong, trapped in an abandoned mansion that used to belong to Crystal's family. She probably would've even moved on if it weren't for Crystal showing up and helping her out, giving Niko a reason to stick around. Niko's doing better now, but she still hasn't really processed her feelings surrounding her death. (Also, her hair's still white---she just dyed it that way, and it's never changed even after she died.)
Charles is also pretty much unchanged from the OG concept---he's still an irresponsible witch who got possessed by David and lost his memories as a result---with the added detail that he's one of many incredibly powerful magical people who David's possessed, wrecked havoc with their powers, and killed, though Charles thankfully survived the ordeal thanks to the Dead Girl Detectives. Also, I'm fairly certain that Charles is not only well aware that he's bisexual and out, but he and David were almost certainly dating. Or at least hooking up.
Edwin's still a socially awkward comics nerd and shut-in, but I decided to just have him get the paranormal parasite as a way for him to get involved with Charles and the Dead Girl Detectives---though, instead of a dandelion sprite that's all about soaking up attention, it's a hornet-themed sprite that feeds on people's insecurities and self-loathing. I think that he still butts heads with Crystal a little bit, but his bookish, studious nature winds up becoming incredibly helpful to the team, and he gets along great with Niko and Charles. Especially Charles.
Now, after thinking about it, I realized that if I was going to do a four-way swap with our main crew, it would probably make sense to do the same with our supporting cast. So:
The Night Nurse---or Minerva Knight, as I've tended to name her in my AUs---is in the place as Port Townsend's resident witch, though her motives are pretty different from Esther's. She has no need for any spells of eternal youth, having stopped aging a while ago, and she considers herself the protector of Port Townsend, keeping the forces of the supernatural at bay from the mundane residents... even if that means occasionally sacrificing a child or two to keep some of the more unsavory beings satisfied. Needless to say, Minerva has a very skewed view of morality, and unlike her canon counterpart, she can't really be swayed to change her mind. She's scary.
Esther, meanwhile, is in the lovely position as the Crow Queen, a charming and campy trickster being who exists to wear fabulous, over-the-top outfits, rule over her little feathered darlings, and to be a menace to everyone she meets. Her whole deal with Crystal isn't exactly flirtatious, but it's enough to give Crystal a gigantic bisexual awakening. And whether or not Esther's really all that interested and is just fucking with her, she's a lot of fun, and she's definitely instrumental in helping Crystal realize more about herself.
Thomas (the Cat King, but we're calling him by his first name) is Charles and Edwin's landlord---the owner of a queer bakery who's having a bit of a quarter-life crisis and is therefore a bit of an asshole to almost everyone he meets. Despite how prickly he is, though, he has an energy about him that makes him automatically endearing to every single misfit teen in a fifty-mile radius, and he's less than enthusiastic about it. Deep down, Thomas doesn't really mind, because he is a pretty lonely individual (not that he'd ever admit it).
And lastly, Jenny is the Night Guard On Duty in the Afterlife Lost & Found Department---overworked, burnt out, and thoroughly cynical when it comes to the affairs of the living. She's convinced that all she really needs is the big case that'll get her a promotion to a much less stressful position, and tracking down the Dead Girl Detectives seems to be just the thing. Of course, she's not as dedicated to her job as she appears to be, and even years of working in the most depressing place in the universe hasn't fully worn her down.
And, uh, other than the fact that I'm gonna have to figure out a stand-in for Monty... that's what I got!
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kyemna · 8 months
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Hiii!!I was wondering if you could do hedcannons for alastor with a non biological teenager who died in the 80s?❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹
(A/N): Hi!! Yes ofcourse! This is my first request, so thank you!
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I kind of made him a softy here, i apologize
No TW
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-suprised the first time he saw you. He thought you were way to young to be in Hell on your own.
-keeps his distance for the first few weeks, observing you.
-once he does start getting closer though, he treats you like everyone else. No respect for your personal space, tries to trick you into making a deal with him, etc.
-has the most awful dad jokes.. ever. But that makes them all the funnier to be honest.
-he tries to understand you. The way you act, the way you speak, the way you dress. your general behavior.
-asks you to dance to music from 1920's-1950's just to see if you can.
-teaches you his mother's recipe for making jambalaya.
-Buys you old fashioned dresses and hats from time to time.
-plays the piano for you.
-Is a surprisingly good listener when it comes to you.
-Is well aware that you're a teenager, so he goes easy on you. Sometimes he forgets, and he slips up
-Asks you about your favorite songs. He tries to enjoy them, he really does, but it's such an ear-sore to him
-Teaches you how to write and read cursive
-Introduces you to Rosie (she absolutely adores you)
-Leaves you with Rosie for a couple of hours, if he has some things to take care of in the city, and everyone is super busy in the Hotel.
-tells you stories about his past (rarely ever though)
-when he's had a stressful day, and you come to talk with him, he snaps at you sometimes. Immediately feels terrible about it, and apologizes.
-often does your hair for you.
-he prefers it if you didn't go out to drink and party, simply because he doesn't trust anyone. If you do go out though, he always makes sure his shadow's follow you, to make sure your safe.
-a mama's boy, so he'll treat you differently depending on your gender.
Thank you for reading!!
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Spirit Work
Working with spirits was popularized and developed in the 1840’s to the 1920’s. Spirit work has also been known as “Necromancy.”
The term necromancy as defined by Merriam-Webster Dictionary:
1: Conjuration of the spirits of the dead for purposes of magically revealing the future or influencing the course of events
2: MAGIC, SORCERY
Some may define that any working, communication, or magic involving the dead (and therefore spirits) is a form of necromancy.
By necromancy, I don’t mean to physically raise the dead. If that was truly possible, then I believe there would be a lot of skeletons and rotting corpses lurking around.
A spirit is a being that does not exist in our physical world. Many spirits can project messages into our world, but they cannot manifest into a solid, physical form here. Most spirits will reside within the astral – which is a separate dimensional plane from our own.
When someone works with spirits it is called spirit work and can take many different forms. Some people want to learn, and keep it strictly business, while others want to be friends or even more in some scenarios.
Deities, Spirits, or Ghosts
Deities are spirits who are seen as divine. They draw their powers from faith and being worshipped in a particular religion.
Spirits generally are entities with many other subcategories, but they tend to draw their powers essentially from the elements of nature and from peoples’ beliefs.
Ghosts were once humans or animals who have died and sometimes, they can remain in our world.
Religion and Spirit Work
Lots of people use spirit work to become closer to their faith or desired path working.
Abrahamic religions use spirit work to commune with God. While there are other individuals who only commune with the Angels or even better, those that commune with the Demons.
Pagans, on the other hand, use spirit work to commune with the various deities and spirits alike. Some people are aligned to a sole practice of religion or single pathworking, while other people are not tied down to any particular practice.
Building Spiritual Connections
Everyone is different in their approach on building relationships. These relationships can be started by either you or the spirit. Some people keep things strictly as business while others build friendships. However, they should not be a direct replacement for mundane relationships, especially not romantic ones.
Remember that spirit work takes effort.
Do the research. Sharpen your mind. Trial and Error.
Don’t let people play translator. No one should be the dedicated “interpreter.” Sometimes it’s okay to use a third party, but do not make it a habit. People can lie. Your relationship is between you and the spirit.
You can say “No.” Spirits can be held accountable for their actions, and you don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with.
Spirits can say “No.” Spirits are like people, and they aren’t playthings. They’re autonomous beings capable of making their own decisions.
Incompatibility. Sometimes a personality, method, and antics might not work very well with you. Recognize when it happens. This may mean taking a break or going separate ways.
Discernment
The process of discernment is interpreting and vetting metaphysical experiences. It helps you build what’s known as UPG or Unverified Personal Gnosis.
UPG is your direct experiences with a spirit or deity. If someone else has the same UPG as you they got all by themselves without help, then that UPG can be considered SPG, or Shared Personal Gnosis.
Your experiences don’t have to match other people’s.
Don’t tailor your UPG to match others. Many people fall into this trap simply because they want to belong to a community or be recognized by authority figures or in some cases both.
Spirit Communications And Synchronicities
When spirits try to get your attention, they will do it in a way you will understand.
They’ll show rather than tell who they are. However, some aren’t as forthcoming because names can give power.
Sometimes the spirits will gauge you and wait for you to come to your own conclusions before giving away their name.
Sometimes the spirits will want to know more about you before giving away their name. Sometimes the give and take relationship must be further established before names are given.
For example, we had consistent communications with a certain Fae entity that did not give away any maliciousness, but at first, they failed to give a proper name. Instead of turning this spirit away we both decided to ask for the Fae to give a name we can call it, until trust could be further established.
The name they gave us was Charles the fox. So, we called him that, but we didn’t believe him to be a simple, ordinary fox. He’s a Fae after all, and it took us roughly one year or so for him to give us his names. Even now, I had to ask permission for this to be included within the writing itself.
… And people tend to forget that sometimes spirits are like this.
…And then there are those ones that aren’t forthcoming about showing much of anything at all because they probably may be imposters – and have malevolent intentions.
One half of this tricky puzzle includes examination of coincidences being too much of an experience to be just coincidences.
Omens
Omens are a sign that appears in the physical world, and they can be good or bad omens. Most often, omens will directly relate to the spirit’s associations. Omens tend to be “gut feeling” experiences and not every unique thing you see may be one. When you’re unsure about a spirit making contact, you can ask for signs. Don’t look everywhere for a sign, though. Not everything is.
Dreams
Spirits can send messages through dreams, and it’s up to you to determine whether a dream is significant based on what happened and why. Analyze things from a logical and psychological manner before delving into spiritual territory. Record whatever makes the most sense to you and any repeating dreams as necessary.
The Astral
The Astral is whenever you are communing with a spirit by projecting and speaking with them. This requires Clairaudience or Claircognizance to be able to recognize and comprehend messages being received. Many people also need to make sure that the experience is not your imagination. Learning the differences from internal thoughts and external thoughts outside your own can be a challenge.
The astral is a dimensional plane that exists outside the physical world. The only way to communicate there is by learning how to project your consciousness.
There are many different dimensional planes, and an infinite number of places and people. One of the astral planes corresponds to earth, however it is hard to discern this. One would have to do research and examine other peoples’ experiences, coming to a well-rounded conclusion. 
Divination Methods
Divination is whenever you are communing with a spirit through methods of divination, such as pendulum, cartomancy, scrying, etc.
However, not all forms of divination are guaranteed results. Pendulums are swayed easily by subconscious influence. It’s important to have an open mind and factor in repetitive results as a sign.
Telepath Linking
Telepathy is whenever you are directing thoughts towards the spirit in question. This method can be difficult to achieve due to the mind and imagination wanting the results. Sometimes, desired results will redirect your mind to fill in the result most wanted versus actual spirit communications taking place.
Rule of Three
Repetition is key to the rule of three, as it is a measurement that can help you decipher potential signs from everyday mundane activities. Most signs will show up in different ways around the same time if a spirit is eager to meet you. If you aren’t sure, ask for more before making any solid conclusions.
Confirmation Bias
“This is the tendency to search for, interpret, favor, and recall information that confirms or supports one’s prior personal beliefs or values.”
The more you work against this, the more authentic interactions will potentially be. Use different methods of discernment to help assist you. Don’t try to push things together, that just don’t stick and eventually fall apart.
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newyorkthegoldenage · 11 months
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Rent Parties in Harlem
In a recent post, I showed a photo of a rent party in Greenwich Village in the 1950s. The bohemians of that era got the idea from the parties held in Harlem from the 1920s through the 1950s.
Guests paid a fee to enter the host's apartment and dance to the music provided (live bands before the war, records after). Food was extra. The host(s) used the proceeds to pay the rent.
The tickets issued for rent parties, which the hosts handed out to friends and even strangers, interested Langston Hughes. “When I first came to Harlem," he wrote in 1957, "as a poet I was intrigued by the little rhymes at the top of most House Rent Party cards, so I saved them. Now I have quite a collection.”
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The collection now lives in the Beinecke Rare Book & Manuscript Library of Yale University, along with Hughes's other papers.
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In the 1920s, competition for guests was fierce, because as many as a dozen parties might be held on the same block, and as many as five per building. One ticket from 1927 said:
Save your tears for a rainy day, We are giving a party where you can play With red-hot mammas and too bad She-bas Who wear their dresses above their knees And mess around with whom they please.
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During Prohibition, of course, bootleg liquor flowed freely. Some parties had back rooms for gambling and drug use, and couples could sometimes rent one for themselves—for a price.
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The term "rent party" never appeared on these tickets, which used euphemisms such as "social party" or "social whist party."
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Hughes enjoyed going to these parties more than those thrown by artists and intellectuals. He wrote:
The Saturday night rent parties that I attended were often more amusing than any night club, in small apartments where God knows who lived—because the guests seldom did—but where the piano would often be augmented by a guitar, or an odd cornet, or somebody with a pair of drums walking in off the street. And where awful bootleg whiskey and good fried fish or steaming chitterling were sold at very low prices. And the dancing and singing and impromptu entertaining went on until dawn came in at the windows.
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Photos: Slate magazine and Open Culture
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auspexsims · 4 months
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Olivia is in her mid-twenties in the mid-1920's, so it was time for another look at what she's wearing ❤️
Olivia is in the majority of women at the time that are not of the means to be a glamorous flapper - her pastel colors are what she can afford as a working city woman (and what she prefers!), and she doesn't have the time or energy after work to go out and party in the upscale areas of town or sew clothes in more beautiful colors for herself. Her indulgences are few - a lesser grade fur coat she saved up for, and her navy blue silk pajamas in the new jumpsuit style.
CC and creator links under the cut:
Daily 1 - dress | backpack | hat
Daily 2 - dress | hat
Casual - bandana | skirt | top
Sleepwear 1 - outfit
Sleepwear 2 - jumpsuit | wrap
Swimming - swimsuit
Night Out - dress | hat
Bridal - dress | veil | flowers
Summer - hat | top | skirt
Winter - dress | hat | fur coat
Thank you to @waxesnostalgic @happylifesims @twentiethcenturysims @solistair @plumbobteasociety
@candycottonchu @joliebean @rustys-cc
for your beautiful contributions to our mutual hobby! :)
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fanby-fckry · 8 months
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Times in history that are famous for sexual liberation, drug use, and wild parties:
The 1920’s – when Husk, Angel Dust, and Alastor would’ve been young adults and/or teenagers
The 1960’s – when Husk was hitting retirement age
Listen, I’m just saying these three all have some wild stories to share about their party days on Earth, and most of those stories involve cocaine.
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kasagia · 2 years
Note
hi, can you do a one-shot for klaus, where he has a crush on y/n, and they have a one-night stand, and Klaus is sad because he thinks he won't see her again, but then he gets the news that y/n n is pregnant with his daughter (reader gets pregnant, no hayley, y/n is Hope's biological mother) and klaus takes the news well, because it's someone he loves and takes the pregnancy as an opportunity to make t /n love him.
Making her love me
Pairing: Klaus Mikaelson x fem! reader Word count: 7,4k (way too long, sorry not sorry) Warning(s): smut mention, panic attack (a little), swearing, and typical TVD violence. Nonsense from me: I'm so excited to post it since it's my first request/ask or whatever I should call it. I hope it's basically what you asked for, Gallus Anonymous! <3
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Klaus Mikaelson loved Y/N Y/S.
The original hybrid was hopelessly in love with her since the first time he met her on his family's ball. He will always remember that day.
She looked like an angel. Well, maybe more like a devil (judging by the fact that part of her hair was arranged in two small buns imitating horns), but still, she was the most beautiful girl at the party (and maybe in the whole world).
When he saw her, dancing in her black-golden dress with one of Salvatore's brothers, he knew that this girl would be his at the end of the day. Even if he has to fight with these bloody, young vampires.
Unfortunately, Y/N didn't have the same feeling when she first saw him. As a proud member of a Mystic Falls group (who returned to the town after a school exchange), she was obligated to hate the Mikaelsons.
But she must admit to herself that the man with the British accent was incredibly hot.
Damon, noticing Klaus's sudden interest in his friend, decided to use this to his advantage and pushed Y/N into the arms of their nemesis. Klaus was delighted. Y/N disgusted.
The original hybrid stuck to her for the rest of the evening, forgetting all about Caroline. Y/N has since become Klaus Mikaelson's official distraction. And she wasn't happy about it at all.
Her friends would use the Siphon Witch whenever they needed to keep Klaus occupied or to ease his bloodlust after doing something stupid (like stealing white oak stakes right under his nose and 12 obedient hybrids. Great plan, Damon!).
Y/N would have to wisely bump into Mikaelson and spend some time with him until the Mystic Falls heroes fix the shit they made. At least the girl was much less stressed compared to her friends, and sometimes she really enjoyed the company of the hybrid.
Once, a man took her to a cafe-studio where little-known Mystic Falls artists would gather. She returned to the Salvator Brothers' estate in navy blue paint, with little constellations painted by Klaus on her face, arms, and neck. Damon barely refrained from making a sarcastic remark.
Fortunately, Stefan saved him from her very likely wrath, because every time someone makes jokes about Y/N's relationship with Klaus, she gets mad and loses control over her magic power. Once, Bonnie had to repair Stefan's motorcycle. The vampire learned his lesson then and tried not to annoy her again. Sometimes, though, he seriously considered letting his older brother cross the line. He wondered if Damon would cry over a damaged car.
With time passing, Klaus had only a stronger crush on her. Everyone knows that. Expect Y/N herself.
At best, she thought the hybrid regarded her as some sort of friend or a distraction between his villainous grand schemes. There could be no feelings between them. Not when she already had a very loving boyfriend whom the original hybrid found out about at a 1920s school party.
She bewitched him completely then. And he was ready to tell her the truth about his real feelings for her and try to make her his, but then he saw this other guy holding her like he wanted to hold her the first time he met her. For Klaus, this man didn't deserve her attention; that human didn't realize how valuable a treasure he was holding in his hands right now. Klaus wanted to go away and let Y/N enjoy dancing with this lesser man. He really does. But when she turned and looked at him with these beautiful, delightful eyes, he couldn't just disappear without exchanging one last word with her.
After all, Klaus was a selfish man.
"You don't mind if I cut into you." Klaus' voice came from behind me, making me shiver.
"Yes. Actually, we do." My boyfriend snarled, recognizing the guy who was "hanging dangerously around me." He had no idea about the supernatural shite we were in and I had no idea how to tell him all of this (or just didn't want to).
Klaus just smiled unfazed, catching his gaze.
"Why don't you go somewhere far away and come back in 20 minutes? You can be useful and bring the beautiful lady something to drink." my boyfriend dutifully obeyed, leaving me with a smug hybrid. "Shall we, love?" he grabbed my hand and pulled me to him, swaying to some slow, romantic song without waiting for my response.
"Why do you always have to prove you're the alpha male?"
"I don't have to prove anything, love, I'm the alpha male." he replied, offended. I rolled my eyes, sighing.
"You would've loved the 1920s, Y/N. Girls were reckless, sexy, and fun. They literally used to dance until they dropped." he turned me around, smiling slyly.
"Since they were so reckless and drunk, I suppose it was easier for you to find a lover then."
"You should be nicer to me. I'm leaving town tomorrow." I shifted my gaze to him, shocked by the information he had thrown at me. "I'd invite you to come with me, but we both know that you're not ready to accept my offer. Perhaps one day you'll turn up at my door and let me show you what the world has to offer."
"How many girls fell for it? A magical tour of the world with an all-powerful original who plays with them like toys?"
"You mark my words. Small-town boy, small-town life won't be enough for you." he said, completely ignoring my previous words.
"And how do you know what's enough for me?"
"Because I know you, Y/N. Do you imagine marrying that stupid man with whom you were dancing later? Giving him children, living too short to make your real dreams come true?" I wanted to look away from him, but he gently grabbed my chin, forcing me to confront him and all my fears at the same time. "You want love, trust, passion, excitement, and even a little power, and unlike this fool, I can give you all of this and more. Just say a word."
"But for what price?" I asked, taking a big breath.
I realized we were much closer than was appropriate for a dance, but neither of us cared. His gaze was moving from my eyes to my mouth. I licked my chapped lips unconsciously, stuck in some incomprehensible anticipation. Only for what?
"Kaus. Y/N. I finally found you two. We have a problem. Klaus' mother is back." Stefan interrupted the moment between us.
I swear I could hear a little swear from the hybrid before he took my hand and led me towards Stefan, who was hurrying away.
After that, T/N didn't get a chance to meet Klaus again. Since they were on opposite camps in finding the cure, Y/N tried to avoid the hybrid at all costs. He just wanted to use her. Seduce her with his sweet words to make her do everything he wanted. She had no other explanation.
Klaus, on the other hand, tried to get her out of his head in every way he knew how. He couldn't keep up with adding new canvases for the portraits of his one-sided crush. His siblings were starting to worry about him.
Especially after he found out her boyfriend was going to propose to her. (Damon has never been prouder of being a gossip boy.) This overflowed the hybrid's cup of bitterness.
Kol and Elijah walked around their brother like they were on eggshells. Rebekah, on the other hand, has no such pity. It was her occasion to tease Klaus, like he was doing whenever she fell in love (at least Rebekah didn't want to kill Y/N like SOMEONE).
But nevertheless, she was the one to tell Klaus that Y/N rejected her boyfriend's proposal. The original never loved his sister more. He was happy that Y/N was now single, and he even thought that in the near future he may have a little chance with her since there were no other competitors for her heart.
But even in his wildest dreams, Klaus would not have dared to think that Y/N would knock on his door that same day and greedily bite into his lips as soon as he opened it. And not that she'd start ripping his clothes off and pushing him into his bedroom (which surprised him, given that she knew how to get there without his directions).
He never would have thought that one night would change his life forever.
~•♤♤♤•~
Y/N's POV
I sighed, rolling over to the other side of the bed as the first rays of sunlight somehow hit my eye. I always kept the windows closed. How come I didn't do it this time? Reluctantly, I opened one eyes to look at my treacherous bedroom window, only to found out that I wasn't in my room.
Also, not in my bed.
And not in any clothes.
AND DEFINITELY NOT ALONE.
As soon as I looked at the calm, sleeping, and clearly satisfied (judging by his disheveled hair) Klaus, memories of last night started flooding back to me.
Panicked, I looked around the room for my clothes, trying to ignore the sight of overturned furniture, a broken mirror, and even a dent in the wall. Unsuccessfully. My face has never been so close to the color of my blood.
Once I'd traced my things, I carefully got out of bed and dressed as quietly as I could, closing the vampire's bedroom door behind me. Now all I had to do was get out of the house full of originals unnoticed. Simple, right?
"Y/N, darling! What a pleasure to see you this morning. How do you feel?" Klaus' little brother jumped out of nowhere and threw one arm around my shoulders, making me come inside the house again.
"Hello Kol. Bye Kol." I tried to dodge him, but he sped up to stand in front of me.
"Wait a minute half-witch. You're going to leave my brother like this? After your… noisy night? He'll be devastated. Was he not up to the task? I could teach him a bit if that's a problem for you. You have my word that within a week you won't be able to stop…"
"Kol! For the bloody hell, stop this awkward conversation. I'm sorry for him, usually we keep him in a coffin." Rebekah cut him off and stood next to him, glaring at him furiously.
"Um… no problem, I guess. If you don't mind, I'm gonna go now."
With even redder cheeks, I ran out of the mansion and, at the speed of light, got into my car, driving far away from this town. I needed rest, and I knew only one person who would be willing to take me under their roof without any questions.
"Hi Katherine. Where are you right now?"
~•♤♤♤•~
"Are you sure it's just food poisoning? Won't you die here suddenly? Do you want my blood?" Katherine flooded me with questions as I returned to our table.
It's been 2 months since my "great escape," as Damon liked to call it, from Mystic Falls. At that time, I was traveling with Katherine around the United States, doing what I wanted to do most: seeing the world (starting with small things like staying in all states). After the brunette gave the cure to Elijah (while experiencing her epic love story with him, which ended with her heartbreak over Elena's meddling and Elijah's doubts), she decided to accompany me on my quest.
I had to arrange everything in my head. What I wanted out of life, who I wanted to be, and so on.
That was the main purpose of this trip.
In fact, I helped Katherine heal her broken heart and tried to avoid the topic of Klaus Mikaelson like the plague. With small or big successes depending on the day.
Sometimes Damon, Stefan, or Bonnie would mention how snappy he'd become after my sudden departure or that he was asking them about my whereabouts. The worst was his drunken voicemails he left. They ended after the first month, but they were the biggest test of my perseverance. I had to piece my twisted life together before adding my love problems with the world's (nearly) oldest living vampire to the puzzle.
At least that was the plan until those New Orleans bitches got me.
As soon as we left the bar, some girls accosted us and knocked us out with magic. I woke up in some cold, dank, musty crypt with Katherine by my side. At least I wasn't alone. We both had a better chance of defeating those witches. The new thing in those two months was my sudden ability to do magic without any source of energy. It looked like my abilities were starting to screw up too.
"Are you Y/N Y/S?" one of the witches approached us, staring at me warily.
"One and only. May I know who I am having the pleasure of?"
"Sophie Deveraux."
"Sophie. Some time ago, I knew a girl with this name. She got under my skin too. She is dead now. You can guess what happened to her."
"Yeah. It's definitely her. I couldn't imagine someone more of this psycho's type." she told her friends. The women grabbed us both and led us out of the makeshift cell to drag us to the main hall of the crypt.
"Allright. Can one of us tell why you are holding us here?"
"We need you, sugar, but your friend is just an accessory, so if you want both of you to get out of this somehow, you'll keep quiet." seeing that I had no intention of objecting, the unknown woman smiled victoriously. "Good girl."
I gave her a sweet smile before breaking her neck with a flick of my wrist. There was a sudden commotion around us. Katherine suffered a brain aneurysm after one of the witches raised her hand on her. The brunette screamed once before someone else appeared in the crypt, tearing out the heart of the witch who was attacking her.
Elijah.
Elijah came to save the day.
"I thought you wanted to talk, and both Katherine and Y/N were supposed to be unharmed." he said in his legal tone, shoving his hands in his pockets as he stepped between me and Kath. The woman was as pleased with the presence of the original as I was.
"She started." Sophie pointed at me. Elijah turned to look at me. I shrugged.
"You make me." I answered her with a malicious smile.
"Y/N." the man said warningly. This noble bastard won't tell me what to do.
"Elijah. Nice to see you. Maybe you can tell us why we've been locked in some fucking tomb? Is this some kind of revenge of yours, or did we get caught in the crossfire of Mikaelson's skirmishes purely by chance?"
"I would like to know that too. You wanted to be heard. Speak, before I change my mind." he turned to the witches without changing his defensive position.
I gave Katherine a brief, knowing glance. The woman reluctantly nodded at me. Great. We have personal cannon fodder if things get hotter.
"Marcel Gerard, ruler of the city, forbade the witches of my coven to use any magic. We want your help. Especially your brother's."
"Niklaus? You have to make him go to town first. And as far as I know, she's not in the mood for any outings right now."
"Even if he gets a message from her?"
"Your mother didn't teach you not to point at people?"I growled at her as she did it again. "Besides, I didn't text… You have my phone, don't you?" I asked, realizing it was their only way of contacting the hybrid. The woman tossed me my phone with a sly smirk.
"Read." I scowled but followed her instructions anyway, wondering what it was that would make him stick his nose out of Mystic Falls.
"I need you, Klaus. New Orleans. Witches cemetery. Please help me. Yeah. I can already tell you that he won't come. We're waiting here for no reason."
"And why is that?"
"This news reeks of a damsel in distress from a mile away. I would never write to him like that. I also doubt if he even cares what happens to…" I stopped when I heard someone's scream in the distance. A man mentioned earlier had burst in with blood on his hands and lips.
Well… mistakes happen.
"Great! Now that we're all here, we can start. We need your help." The woman began to explain the whole thing about Marcel and the witches. Everything was clear except for one thing.
"And where exactly is my role in this Machiavellian plan of yours?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.
"And who said I would agree to it instead of just killing you all and taking Y/N out of here?"
"I can take myself and KATHERINE out, Klaus. I don't need your help."
"Oh, do you?" he took a few steps towards me to stand in front of me. I snorted, returning his dark gaze. There's no way I'll be afraid of him.
"That's how we get to the main topic." Sophie paused, catching our attention again. Klaus stood next to his brother, giving the witch his famous sinister look while he was waiting for her to continue. "You see, I have a special gift for knowing when a woman is pregnant."
"And how exactly is this fact important to us?"
"She's carrying Klaus' child."
I broke the sudden silence in the crypt with a very loud laugh.
"And you're insane or a very, very bad liar."
"I'm telling the truth! You're pregnant with his child." she tried desperately to convince us.
"Vampires can't procreate, ergo, I am not in any false pregnancy."
"Vampires can't. But werewolves can. And Klaus is both."
"That's ridiculous. Klaus, say something! She didn't tell the truth, did she?" I tried to find support from the speechless Klaus. By the way, I think it was the first time I saw him without words.
"Y/N, be quite for a second."
"What? Elijah, are you believing her?" the man responded with nothing, staring at me with a strange look.
Klaus walked over to me. He stopped a few steps in front of me, staring at my belly as if he was hypnotized.
"I can hear it." he whispered, looking at me in disbelief.
"Hear what?"
"The baby's heart."
"What? But... it's impossible." I suddenly felt my heart beating much faster, as I was unable to catch my breath properly.
"It is. Like being a hybrid or a witch without her own magic. And yet we're here. And we gonna have a baby."
"No. That's a lie. I... we... I need fresh air." I avoided the brothers standing in front of me and headed the way Klaus had come from earlier. Unfortunately, one of these witches blocked my way and grabbed my arm tightly.
"You're not going anywhere until we settle the details of our deal." right after she said that, I felt her hand being removed from me. I was pulled against someone's strong chest. The familiar smell of Klaus' perfume brought me a momentary sense of relief.
"Touch her again, and I'll make sure that's the last thing you gonna do before I take your miserable life away from you." Klaus growled, tightening his protective grip on me and scouring the present witches with a hostile glare.
"Calm down, both of you. Neither of you will have any use for her if she faints here. Klaus, take her outside. Elijah and I will take care of everything."
Klaus glanced at Elijah. His brother nodded, encouraging him to leave. The hybrid took my hand gently and led us out onto the streets of New Orleans. We stopped in a square. Klaus sat me down on a bench and knelt in front of me, carefully watching me take slow, deep breaths, trying to calm down.
When I was sure my magic wouldn't suddenly blow up the whole city, I opened my eyes tentatively to meet the vampire's concerned gaze. I swallowed, turning my eyes away from him. He was still kneeling in front of me with his hands on my lap.
"Are you better?"
"I think so." I glanced at him nervously, fiddling with the bracelets on my wrist to internally brace myself for asking the original thousand-year-old hybrid about something incredibly... stupid. "Can you... go to the one place with me?"
"Are you sure you want to go back there, love?" I shivered when I heard this familiar nickname. I missed this. Klaus misread my reaction as he shrugged off his leather jacket and covered me with it.
"Thanks. I don't want to go back there. I think, well, I need to be perfectly sure it's true that..." I stopped, unable to say the words aloud. It would have been too real then, and right now I couldn't accept even the slightest possibility.
"That we're going to be parents?"
"Yhm. Will you go with me to the gynecologist? I don't want to do this alone."
"Anything you want, love. I'll check the address." he sat next to me and started searching for the location of the nearest clinic on his phone.
As we sat together in silence, I began to wonder at the absurdity of this situation. And the improbable, rational behavior of the hybrid sitting next to me.
"Klaus?" I asked, yanking him off the phone for a moment.
"Yes?"
"You're not... you know. Crazy about this? Or something like that. I mean... I thought you gonna ask me if it's yours, of course if it even exist, but still. You're so... calm. Like not you."
"Would you rather me to run mad around town and deny our baby?" I chuckled, imagining his lunatic walk through the streets.
"No. To be honest, I would have expected something like that than this, but it's a nice surprise. It's enough that one of us is scared to death. Thank you for keeping a cold head."
"Don't get used to it, love. C'mon. I know where to go."
In less than five minutes, we got to the building and waited in line. There were many other people in the waiting room, but what caught my attention the most was a couple sitting in the corner. Husband and wife. The woman was probably in her third trimester (or had quadruplets. God, please let me have only one if there are any.) The man whispered something tenderly into her belly, and she smiled at him with just as much adoration. Involuntarily, I imagined Klaus and myself in this situation. I glanced at the tense vampire next to me. He was also staring at the couple.
"Y/N Y/S?"
"It's me."
"Are you going alone or do you have any company, dear?"
"My boyfriend is coming with me." I said, taking Klaus' hand. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw an amused smirk on his lips. We started walking hand in hand behind the doctor. The vampire leaned toward me.
"Boyfirend, huh?" he whispered in my ear, clearly pleased with the situation.
"Don't get used to it, love." I repeated his earlier words, trying to imitate his tone of voice. The man chuckled, politely following the doctor with me.
I had to admit that it was funny to watch Klaus in such a... strange situation. His nervous, slightly stressed demeanor gave me courage as I lay there waiting for the ultrasound results. The cold gel tickled slightly, but I gritted my teeth, waiting for the final confirmation of my fate.
"There it is. That's your baby. Congratulations!"
Klaus put his hand on my shoulder and leaned gently toward the small screen. I stared at the tiny speck as if it were enchanted. It really was happening. I will be a mother.
"Do you want to hear your baby's heartbeat?"
"Could you give us first a second alone, doctor?" Klaus spoke as he saw me still staring blankly at the screen.
"Of course. I'll be back in a few minutes."
"Oh, my God. It's real. We'll have a baby." I choked out after a few seconds of silence between us.
"You took that information really quickly, love."
I punched him lightly on the shoulder, finally turning my attention to the man standing next to me.
"Stop joking with me. Aren't you scared? I mean, a few hours ago we were on the other side of the country, living our lives, and now we're looking at some stain, which is our baby. Are you that calm, or am I being dramatic?"
"Of course I'm afraid, but I know we're going to figure it out. Maybe if it were someone other than you, I would be paranoid and mad, but it's you. With you by my side? Nothing can go wrong." I burst into tears at his emotional confession. Stupid pregnancy hormones.
"Come here, you idiot." I wrapped my arms around his waist and snuggled into him. "I hope Katherine got our things back."
"Yes. Speaking about her..." he said, moving away from me to look at my face.
"She is staying with me and you're not going to kill her." I said it in a tone that left no room for any objection. It's been 500 years; whatever conflict there was between them should be over by now.
"Absolutely not."
"Yes? So be prepared that if this little one is a girl, she'll be named after aunt Katherine, who couldn't be there for her mom because her dad is acting like he's on his period."
"You know you've been pregnant for a few hours, and you're already using it against me?" he asked resignedly. The grimace on his face was a clear sign of my victory.
"Get used to it. You're stuck with me for a while."
"I think I can work with that. Let's go home. I think uncle Elijah and Katherine will want to see the first photo of the newest member of the Mikaelson family."
~•♤♤♤•~
*Two months leter*
"Good morning, Y/N"
"Morning Elijah." I grunted from my book, never taking my eyes off the text I was reading.
"Have you eaten yet? Want me to make you pancakes?"
"Actually..." I didn't have time to answer, because an extremely happy hybrid came out of the kitchen with a large tray on which was my breakfast.
Elijah looked at his brother in disbelief as he sat comfortably next to me on the couch and began feeding me with a fork while I continued to read my book as if nothing had happened.
"Niklaus. Can you explain?" his brother was shifting his bewildered gaze between us.
"His werewolf hormones tell him to look after me. So when I told him I wasn't having breakfast today because I didn't want to stand in this heat by the stove, he made it his morning's main goal to make me a decent meal. At least Marcel and the witches will get some rest from him today."
"Werewolf hormones?" very amused Kol entered the living room, staring at the hybrid with a malicious smirk.
"Yes, brother. Werewolf hormones." Klaus' cool tone caught my attention away from the book.
"Of course... your werewolf hormones. So that's what they call it now. Just don't flood Y/N with this sudden tenderness, or the girl will get scared and run away from you again." before Klaus could make any move towards his younger brother, I grabbed his hand and moved him so that I could get more comfortable on his chest.
"He is weird." I commented as I took a grape from the bowl and popped it into Klaus' mouth, much to Elijah's astonishment.
"Weird? No. Just a little joker. I have to go now. I'll meet you later, Niklaus. Please, don't start without me."
"Do I want to know what he was talking about?" I asked, giving him a curious look.
"It depends. Will you get angry?"
"If it has to do with that teenage witch, Davina, that your adopted son treats like a daughter? Probably." his silence was an answer enough. I pulled away from him, eyeing him disapprovingly.
"Klaus."
"Yes, love?"
"Promise me you're not going to hurt her."
"And what does it matter? I'm not Elijah, how sure are you that I'll keep my word?" my angry look, however, fortunately made him give up. "Alright. She'll be fine." he sighed, rolling his eyes.
"Thank you. On the way back, you can stop by the store and buy me more chocolate and ice cream."
"As you wish."
He got up from the couch, placed a quick kiss on my already-showing belly, and left the living room, passing Rebekah as she entered. His sister looked at me curiously.
"What?" I asked, fed up with her penetrating gaze.
"Nothing. You two seemd very... compatible with each other. I'm impressed."
"Well, he's the father of my baby. We have to get along. For the baby's sake, it's best if we're friends."
"Surely." she hummed, completely unconvinced.
"Rebekah. What do you mean?"
"I mean that "just friends" wouldn't act that way. My brother never treated anyone with such affection. He's doing everything he can to impress you. For a bloody hell, he even changed his plan to take over the city for you!"
"She is right." Katherine walked past her and threw herself on the couch next to me. "He does everything he can think of to make you fall in love with him. For example, that "almost date" at the best restaurant in New Orleans last week. Or the fact that you've been given unlimited access to his credit cards, safes, stashes of clothes, and God knows what else. Or that weekend out of town so you could relax. Do you think they seriously didn't have a second room with two beds in the hotel?"
"Nik used the one bed trope? He's even more desperate than I previously thought." Rebekah snorted as she poured herself a glass of whiskey.
"Even if what you say is true, which I doubt, I have no intention of changing anything. Klaus and I work well as friends, and for the sake of this child, we will continue to be them so."
"So you don't love him back?" Rebekah questioned, coming to me, so she could stay in front of me. Her evaluative look somehow made me feel guilty.
"It doesn't matter what I want or feel. The most important thing for me is my child and I will do everything to ensure at least a little normality for them. If Klaus and I tried to be together and it didn't work out... At least this child deserves reasonably normal parents."
"What if you were happy together and created a loving family? Wouldn't that be better for everyone?"
"It's not worth the risk, Bekah." I replied, getting up from the couch to escape the inconvenient conversation with the original vampire.
"Risk of what?"
Losing him.
I didn't answer as I left the room. I decided to hide in the library for the rest of the day and try to forget the doubts the blonde had stirred up in me.
But my wild imagination did not give up so easily. I began to consider a possible relationship with Klaus. Despite what I told the girls, I wasn't blind to Klaus'… flirtatious remarks and behavior. I saw every long, stolen glance at me, every quick look at my lips during any conversation, and most of all, the longing shining in his eyes that was so similar to mine and that I somehow managed to hide from him.
I wanted to spend my life with him. But I also knew that I'm not enough to keep him away from his scheming and fighting for power. For the good of this baby, I had to be content with being his formal one-night stand and friend at best. Even if my heart yearned for him every single day.
Thinking about my unattainable future, I didn't even notice when I got to the library. But I certainly saw two people kissing in the room.
Klaus and Camille. At least he cleared up all my doubts.
I was probably the only one who noticed how my heart shattered into a million pieces. At least until Klaus pulled away from her, confused, and spotted me in the doorway.
"Y/N." he whispered, terrified.
"I'm sorry, I didn't want to interrupt… I'll leave you alone."
"No! Y/N, wait!" he shouted, trying to get to me, but before he got even a step closer, I used my magic to teleport myself to a New Orleans street.
I leaned against the building next to me as the first post-teleport symptoms started to hit me and my head started spinning a bit. I shouldn't have done it while being pregnant, but well… I couldn't stay in the same room with these two any longer.
Once I had recovered, I decided to order myself a hot chocolate and sit with it in the park to collect my thoughts. I had to come up with some clever, eloquent way out of this predicament. And most of all, refrain from crying.
Thinking about this situation, after all, everything happened as I wanted. Klaus had found someone else to adore, so I could stop worrying about the deterioration of my relationship with the Mikaelsons.
We would be friends.
Just as I wished.
The only problems were my stupid broken heart and festering feelings of jealousy.
I wiped a tear running down my cheek with the sleeve of my sweatshirt. I shook my head, taking a few deep breaths to calm myself down. Something that stupid couldn't get me off balance. I had to be strong. If not for myself, then at least for this little one.
My phone buzzed. I pulled it out of my pants pocket and glanced at the screen to see the photo of Klaus sleeping with me on the couch that I had set as his contact picture.
I remembered that night. It was one of the first month at the Mikaelson Mansion and also my favorite.
"Can't sleep?" Klaus stepped out of the shadows to stand in front of the fireplace, which flames I had been staring at earlier.
"Not even tried."
"May I?" he asked, pointing to the blanket that covered me. I nodded, opening the hem so he could slip into the space next to me. He put his arm around me, moving us into a more comfortable position. One of his hands automatically went to my slightly rounded belly. I sighed, resting my head against his shoulder, and returned to staring at the flames of the fire. "What's bothering you?"
"Remember when Tyler kidnapped me and…"
"Please tell me you're not going to lecture me again about how I shouldn't have attacked Elijah." he interrupted me with a groan of displeasure.
"I'm not, but your brother didn't deserve this. Even if he was talking some shit about you. You knew I would never believe it."
"You wouldn't?"
"Of course not. You always try to protect your family, not always in a good way, I have to admit, but still, I know you would never use your own child for your games. I trust you." he tightened his grip on me and cleared his throat.
"It's good to know you're at least on my side, love."
"Your siblings too. If you'd just let them in, maybe you'd see it too, but that's a topic for another time."
"I know better ways to spend my free time with you, love. One of them brought us to this situation." he smiled slyly, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.
"Very funny, but we have to talk about something serious."
"I'm sorry. What are you thinking about?"
"Have you ever thought about whether there is a chance for our child to be… a tribrid?"
"Tribrid?" he asked, confused, stopping to play with my hair.
"You know. You're half vampire, half werewolf; I'm a witch, siphon, but still… Can our baby inherit all of this from us?"
"They might as well only have the gene of a werewolf, a witch, a vampire, or a hybrid. I think all options are possible. Maybe in my mother's grimoire we can find the answer to that question. These books are as old as the world."
"You can include the birth of a miracle baby in your search. I hope we won't summon a demon into the world." I joked, turning slightly to look at his face again.
"I thought you already knew that the demon has been walking around this world for a long time, and you're cuddling with him on the couch. By the way, it's our search."
"Our? You seriously want to just give me access to your mother's precious books? The same ones that have so much knowledge inside them that you won't let any other witch see them whole, or even your siblings?" I was shocked. I would never in my life expect something like this from him, but on the other hand, he has done astonishing things many times before.
"You're different."
"Like how?"
"I trust you."
"You did?" I whispered after a few seconds of silence. Those words were more striking than three others of equal importance he might have said to me. Klaus doesn't trust people that easily, I think he falls in love with them more often…
"You wouldn't be the first to hear about all my plans if I didn't. Besides, you're the mother of my heir..."
"Keep treating your family like a fucking dynasty, and you'll have to buy me a crown and my own castle." I cut him off when I heard that horrible term for our baby.
"Why do you need a castle when you already have your throne, love?"
"You're impossible." I chuckled at this awful attempt at flirting.
"That's why you like me."
"Maybe." I yawned suddenly, unaware of how tired I was. I felt the hybrid's soft, warm lips against my hair before both the blanket cocoon and his grip tightened around me.
"Sleep. I'll stay with you and I will chase away your nightmares."
"How did you know?" I asked, feeling him gently brush away the strands of hair that had fallen over my eyes.
"I know you. Besides, I can hear everything through these thin walls. I would rather hear your screams for other reasons than nightmares."
"Deviant."
"Only yours." I heard as if through a haze before falling into a deep, peaceful sleep.
The next day, Katherine found us sleeping together and took a picture of us. One of my favorites.
Before I could answer the phone, I felt someone snatch it from my hand, and something hit my head at breakneck speed, knocking me out. Stupid witches.
~•♤♤♤•~
~A few hours later~
I was kneeling in front of the crib that Katherine and Rebekah had set up after the whole witches' fiasco. After those damn witches kidnapped me, they cast some strange spell on me and the baby to speed up her (as it turned out) growth and thus her birth.
A few hours ago, I was a human pregnant with a hybrid. Now I was a heretic, the mother of the thyrbid, the most powerful creature on earth.
I guess life with the Mikaelsons was all about sudden, unexpected changes. At least they weren't boring.
Elijah, Kol, Klaus, and Marcel were running around the city, killing the last witches who had allied with Esther. Rebekah and Katherine have been delegated to look after me and the baby until the boys get the hang of the situation. A bit sexist, but I didn't have the energy to argue about it. Not after I so impressively returned to the graveyard and killed half the coven.
After feeding on the blood from the bag, the girls gave me a moment alone with my sleeping daughter. Her first day in this world, and she was already trying to get killed.
"Y/N." Klaus' tired sigh snapped me out of my thoughts. For the first time in hours, I shifted my gaze to something other than my daughter and met a face as tired and bloodstained as mine.
"Hi." he knelt uncertainly beside me, glancing at the baby sleeping in the cradle.
"She is beautiful. So similar to you." he whispered softly, afraid he would wake her up at any moment.
"She has a look of the devil in her eyes. That's all you."
The girl stirred in her sleep, as if hearing us talk about her. Two loving, child-infatuated looks appeared on Klaus' and mine's faces.
"She needs a name. You made a decision?"
"I was thinking about Zoe and Caitlyn. But I think we both know that Katherine Jr. is the best fit for her."
"God no." I chuckled, trying not to wake the baby after seeing his terrified look..
"Got a counterproposal?"
"Hope."
"Hope. That's actually nice. Hope Mikaelson."
"Mikaelson?"
"What? Are you not the father?" I asked teasingly.
"I'm but... I thought you'd want her to have your last name."
"Mikaelson suits her better." I replied with a shrug.
"Well, then I guess it will be Hope Y/N Mikaelson." I smiled at him, resting my head tiredly on his shoulder. We both stared in awe at the new member of the Mikaelson family.
"How did you come to that? Hope?"
"With Elijah's little help. When I found you… dead. Elijah said that I ruined our family's last hope by making out with this bartender, which, by the way, is not exactly true."
"Klaus..."
"No. Let me finish. I've never been so helpless and scared in all my life as I was a few hours ago. Never, not even in the worst, darkest moments of my life, have I been so broken, so despairing, than when I held your dead body. Whatever you think now, whatever you feel, the truth has to be told. I love you. I've loved you since the first time I saw you, and each day only brings me closer to you. You're the only one who can make me so mad, terrified, or happy. You taught me unconditional love, and even if you don't share my feelings, I want you to know that you completely changed me. It will be my life's purpose to make sure that our daughter and you are safe and satisfied." I stared at him with tears in my eyes, listening to his touching confession.
"I was so mad at you and Camille, but... I can't blame her; falling for you is as easy as breathing. Not when I did it a long time ago."
"You did?"
"Yes. And I don't want to hide it anymore. I can't hide it anymore. As I turned into vampire, everything I feel for you since all this time is more intensive. My desires, my love, and my longing - I feel them so much that I can't even imagine spending one more hour without your words, touch, or kiss. I don't want to live in a world where we're just friends. So if you promise that this is forever, then I..."
Klaus cut me off, pulling me into a longing, long-expected, passionate kiss. I moaned into his mouth, pulling him as close as possible by the strands of his hair. At one point, I bit his lip until it bled. My new ability was immediately activated. My fangs slid out of my gums by themselves, digging into his lip and sucking more of his delicious, sweet blood. We broke apart when we were completely out of breath. Klaus licked his lips, staring lustfully at my black-veined face and bloody mouth.
"I promise. You're mine. For always and forever, love."
"And you're mine. For always and forever."
"Aw... Congratulations, Nik! It only took you one child to make her yours. I thought it would take you at least three." Kol suddenly appeared in the doorway, interrupting our moment.
Klaus growled at him and threw the baby monitor at his brother. Kol dodged at the last second and tossed the device back at him, sticking out his tongue before he ran as fast as his legs could take him. I giggled, drawing the hybrid into a tender kiss.
Yeah, I wouldn't trade it for anything in the world.
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corpsebridalshower · 7 months
Note
So they just forgot about it-
When did they confess to each other? (I am determined to find out every detail about these two, I'm crazy about them)
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Well!…
After the forgetful kiss and confession, they just went on about their day! Loving each other but neither one having the guts to spill the beans. Until rumor breaks out amongst mutuals that they slept together. Then that becomes a fiasco within itself making them somewhat distant. Friends teasing and taunting the both of them about IT . Let it be known they never had sex. So they questioned how the rumor began! One thing led to another and a friend of Bonnie’s confesses that she witnessed them sharing kisses outside on the garden bench, only for them to leave the party together laughing and kissing , only to never return. Bonnie and Alastor are stunned to their core. What? Them? kissing?? no no no- ha! What a kidder this one was… then it hits them, the memory, the kisses, the… the confession! Alastors confession!! Bonnie looks at Alastor wide eyed, as does he. Oh boy…
————-
Oh, let me add, this was around the 1920’s - 30’s, so sleeping together without being married was very looked down upon, so there were times people made rude remarks about them, almost killing their own reps… that’s why they wanted to get to the bottom of this “rumor”
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