#w. scott poole

[onebluebookworm]

Ranking Books I Read in 2023: Top 5

5. House of Leaves - Mark Z. Danielewski

This book is incredibly intimidating, but I'm begging you - if you want a unique horror experience that will change you forever, read this. It's phenomenal. Even Johnny's portions, which I got incredibly fed up with for a while, actually managed to do a 180 and be effective and scary. Seriously, horror fans, if you've been putting it off, read it this year.

4. Wasteland: The Great War and the Origins of Modern Horror - W. Scott Poole

As previously stated, there are few scholars on the genre of horror who are better than W. Scott Poole. And this is one of his best, focusing on an important period in history that I honestly don't think gets talked about all that much. It's a very interesting piece that not only talks about horror fiction, but art, poetry, and even music created by people who were affected by the war and its aftermath. It's an amazingly informative read.

3. The Trauma Cleaner: One Woman's Extraordinary Life in Death, Decay, and Disaster - Sarah Krasnostein

What I thought was going to be a leering look into the lives of people who clean hording situation for a living turned out to be one of the most emotional and moving books I read all year. This really gets at the heart of not only the people who get into those situations, but the lives of the people who help them, through the life story of one very extraordinary person who lived an amazing life.

2. The Grand Sophy by Georgette Heyer

If Cotillion had fluff fun and hijinks after a rather stuffy opening, Sophy absolutely hits the floor running and does stop. Sophy rivals some of my favorite Jane Austen heroines in just how fun, smart, and likable she is. This is a great de-stress read, and I recommend it to any Heyer fan, regency romance fan, or just someone who needs something to make them smile

And 1. Monsters in America: Our Historical Obsession With the Hideous and the Haunting - W. Scott Poole

This Poole book takes the ideas of Dark Carnivals and distills them to the much more precise idea of the American history of horror. A lot less heavy-handed than Dark Carnivals, but also incredibly well-researched and perfectly willing to skewer American attitudes regarding that hideous and haunting stuff we can't get enough of. W. Scott Poole's best, in my opinion.

[thatwritererinoriordan]

Another thing about Wasteland by W. Scott Poole: Based on Poole's descriptions of WWI veterans, kudos to the writers of Peaky Blinders. How fucked up Tommy and Arthur are? Not an exaggeration.

[booksellergothic]

Halloween Day 20

I read a lot of theory about horror films and stories this last year, including all of the works of W. Scott Poole.  

From the publisher, since I cannot really say it better :

“ The American empire emerged from the shadows of World War II. As the nation’s influence swept the globe with near impunity, a host of evil forces followed—from racism, exploitation, and military invasion to killer clowns, flying saucers, and monsters borne of a fear of the other. By viewing American imperial history through the prism of the horror genre, Dark Carnivals lays bare how the genre shaped us, distracted us, and gave form to a violence as American as apple pie. “

Wasteland is also brilliant, if you want the full panorama of what modern horror is and what it means.

@piggledy-higgledy @imdeadtiredtm @joyfullymassivewhispers @caffiend-queen @dangertoozmanykids101 @toozmanykids @wrathkitty @myoxisbroken @punemy-spotted​ @stupendouslovegardener​ @sylviefromneptune​ 

[mthollowell-writes]

"Master narratives are, by definition, lies and untruths. This is why we need to study monsters. They are the things hiding in history's dark places, the silences that scream if you listen closely enough. [...] The secrets and the lies, and perhaps most importantly the victims of history, are in those stories of monsters, those dark places waiting to be explored. These places became dark in the first place because they did not fit the historical story we want to tell ourselves."

- W. Scott Poole, Monsters in America: Our Historical Obsession With The Hideous and The Haunting

[somegrrlreads]

10 Books from my "For Later" Shelf (aka TBR)

Photo by Eugenio Mazzone – https://unsplash.com/@eugi1492 I read all my books on my Kindle – it’s easier on my eyes and I read a lot so it’s good to have more than one book at hand without having to carry around multiples. I get my books from my public library (which has a great selection of e-books). Their site has a handy “For Later” option and as I read book recommendations, I add them to my…

[piningpercussionist]

idk why I thought of this cute drawing crossover idea for pride month but fuck it ! and it’s understandable if you can’t do it but pls take care of ya self !

Kim Pine swimming underwater in a blue aquatic doodle background alongside the Bull Shark Pup aka the shark protagonist from the game Maneater and Kim be casually normally petting its snout while sneakily finding it cute as it nuzzles intelligently back with its snout.

and the Bull Shark Pup has cute waterproof lgbt lesbian flag blanket wrapped around its dorsal fin

and be equally nuzzling it’s snout against Ramona Flower while she was scuba diving allowing her to gently feel the bull shark pup’s. damaged scarred dorsal fin and sneakily use a underwater camera to take picture of its cute unknown existence.

Details: the ref images I sent were to help show what Kim Pine and Ramona Flowers wear while underwater and the in game design of the Bull Shark Pup.

Kim Pine be casually holding her breath underwater cause she can and secretly skilled at it. While wearing a green teal style long sleeved zip swimsuit and red diving mask on her face with a snorkel mouthpiece attached to it. and wearing pair of black red diving flippers.

Ramona Flowers would also secretly dye her hair in the Bull Shark Pup’s unique red blue colour pattern after finding out about its existence and it surviving in a public swimming pool due to Kim Pine discovering it first normally.

While Ramona be wearing a black blue short sleeved zip wetsuit diving flippers and diving mask on her face with a scuba tank on her back

while Ramona breaths from the scuba regulator oxygen mouthpiece in her mouth while holding gently onto a underwater waterproof camera.

i still don’t know why I came up with this and sorry for bothering with this cute idea but pls remember to take care of yourself and have safe day or night !🦈🤿🪸🏳️‍🌈🫧🎸

wow you came prepared

Yeah, bit too much detail/elaboration for me to really do- especially given I haven't played or seen much gameplay for Maneater just yet- BUT! I did do some sketches based on/around what you've given me here!

+bonus Scott doodle because that's genuinely how I think he'd react to the hair colors shfkshdkfhe

(And here's just the shark, in case anyone wants it- although I will note that it's blown up to fit the canvas, so sorry if that nerfed the quality.)

[jumping-jackalope]

cheering and applauding when this monster expert says how disturbing the popularity of true crime is, how fundamentally different it is from the horror genre, how it is making spectacle of the suffering of real people and can desensitize us to violence where in many ways horror can sensitize us to the pain of others

[shsenhaji]

📚 July Reading Round-Up 📚

I was able to finish a few books this month, and I also did a delightful deep dive into more of Courtney Milan's books

- House of Flame and Shadow by Sarah J Maas (Amazing, such a good conclusion, rollercoaster, so many callbacks and references to previous books, saving the day through the power of love and friendship, JJ!, breathless action scenes, rough at first for most characters but things get better, so many good lines and quotes)

- Gild by Raven Kennedy (Re-read, took a while to get into but still enjoyable, noticed new things, really liked the ending, a lot of powerful messages)

- First Test: The Graphic Novel by Tamora Pierce, Becca Farrow and Devin Grayson (Lovely and cute, appreciated the art style as I read more, Numair!!!, glad it exists, loved seeing Kel in all her glory)

- The Duke Who Didn't by Courtney Milan (Took me a bit to fully buy in, so fun and delightful and emotional and such a good resolution, low angst and high comfort and growth and being loved)

- The Devil Comes Courting by Courtney Milan (Delightful, so emotional, felt so seen, Amelia is peak ADHD, definitely cried, loved the references to Uncles John and Henry!)

- The Countess Conspiracy by Courtney Milan (Delightful and powerful and angry and cute, amazing relationship, loved the ending, really appreciated the author’s note)

- Wasteland: The Great War and the Origins of Modern Horror by W. Scott Poole (Good, compelling, learned a lot, author was very descriptive and vivid with his phrasing and language, didn’t agree with all his hot takes but found them interesting nonetheless, the book got better as I read more)

- These Violent Delights by Chloe Gong (Very good, loved the action scenes, great political and societal commentary, liked the relationships and the sympathetic characters, lots of queer characters, appreciated that the author committed to the gangster bit)

- Glint by Raven Kennedy (Re-read, read it in practically two sittings (didn’t want to stop reading), a bit frustrated at the characters but got over it, excited to try the next book again)

[natjennie]

just considered pulling out a book I got for a literature class like 4 years ago called "monsters in america" to see if the section on ghosts had anything about sexuality in there. what autism does to a motherfucker.

[gonnadosomethingwmylife]

I always find it funny when people are more mad at a character than the people they supposedly hurt are? I get it happens when a fandom is younger or it’s been truely written incorrectly based on the characters, but a lot of the times it’s not and it’s funny to see idk. I am looking at the teen wolf fandom.

[darchildre]

"Did we not both die here in Marmorus, fifteen years ago? Are we any the less victims of the war than those whose bodies were torn asunder? Are we not both...the living dead?"

[onebluebookworm]

October 2023 Book Club Picks

Coraline by Neil Gaiman: The little door was like a dream come true for Coraline. After her inattentive parents move her to a new house, full of oddball neighbors and nothing fun to do, Coraline thought she would go out of her mind with boredom...until she crawled through the door one day and found herself in the arms of her Other Mother, a kind, cheerful who can grant Coraline's every wish. Fun games, delicious food, never-ending adventures - it's all a dream come true to Coraline. But as she falls deeper into the Other Mother's world, she starts to realize that everything is not as it seems...and that the Other Mother has no intention of letting her leave.

Plunge by Joe Hill: In 1983, the research ship Derleth vanished near the Arctic circle. Thirty-five years later, the ship sent out a distress call. Tracing the signal to a remote atoll in the Bering Strait, the Rococo oil company hires the Carpenter brothers and their salvage crew to investigate the ghost ship. Joined by a marine biologist and an oil executive, the brothers set out on a grim mission to learn what caused the disappearance and recover the bodies of the crew...only to find that the Derleth's men aren't dead. Even if they're also not quite...alive...anymore.

Monsters in America: Our Historical Obsession With the Hideous and the Haunting by W. Scott Poole: Salem witches, frontier wilderness beasts, freak show oddities, alien invasions, Freddie Krueger - from the colonial past to the present, the monster in all its various forms has been a staple of American culture. But how did this macabre fascination take root? Poole seeks to answer that question by tracing it through history and culture, opining that the creation of the monstrous "other" not only reflects society's fears but shapes actual historical behavior and becomes a cultural reminder of inhuman acts.

Anthony Bourdain's Hungry Ghosts by Anthony Bourdain and Joel Rose: On a dark, haunted night, a Russian oligarch dares a circle of international chefs to play the samurai game of 100 Candles--where each storyteller tells a terrifying tale of ghosts, demons and unspeakable beings--and prays to survive the challenge.

Mister Magic by Kiersten White: Even thirty years after tragedy shut down production, fans of the long-running children's show Mister Magic still reminisce fondly on the internet about it - the lessons they learned, the fun they had, and above all, the protection and guidance from the show's enigmatic host. Even the former cast, called the Circle of Friends, have spent all their lives searching for that unique brand of love and fulfillment they felt under Mister Magic's watchful eye. But with no surviving footage and no information about the show's production, memories are all the Circle of Friends has. When a twist of fate finally brings the Circle back together in the remote desert compound where the show was filmed, they finally begin putting the piece together about the beloved childhood show - what happened on that deadly last day? Who, or what, is Mister Magic? And have the Friends come to this compound of their own free will...or have they been lured into a trap?

[tteotlma]

Blurred Lines & Bright Screens

— movie night shenanigans turn into almost-kisses.

(Wolverine/Reader) 2.3kw

a/n: i couldn’t find the right gif i was looking for — also i hope this makes sense ALSO i wanna write sm*t SO bad but all i can think abt rn is domestic/mutual pining/slow-burn HUGH JACKMAN

TW: mild sexual tension, implied violence, mentions of alcohol, snoring if u think it’s an ick.

Btw: i wrote this at work enjoy! also pls reblog so i can share my writing w more people !!!

"I'm so glad you finally agreed to watch this movie with me!" You exclaim, giddy as you set a giant bowl of popcorn on the coffee table. Settling onto the plush velvet sofa, you rest your back against the armrest and pull your knees up, watching Logan trudge into the room.

"Well, it's only 'cause you kept buggin' me about it," he mumbles. Nonetheless, he plops his thick frame onto the sofa, the weight of his body causing your sock-covered feet to slide under his thigh.

You tense a little, giving him a quick glance before turning to the TV. He doesn't say anything, so you leave your feet under his warmth. Silence falls as you flip through the streaming apps.

"Um," you speak up, trying to cut the one-sided tension. You're pretty sure Logan is unfazed, but you want to be wrong. You mumble to yourself, filling the silence for your own comfort.

The room goes dark as the movie starts, and you try to settle in. Grabbing a giant blanket, you drape it over your legs, the fabric pooling where you touch Logan. You hope he might grab the blanket too, but he doesn't.

You scoff at the embarrassment creeping up your throat and try to focus on the movie. As you open your mouth to comment, Logan cuts you off.

"You don't gotta do that," he grumbles.

Sinking further into your seat, you bring your legs a little closer and grab the popcorn, attempting to pay attention to the screen. It works pretty well until you feel Logan shift beside you, and suddenly all you can think about is him.

You and Logan have been "friends" for about a year now, but have known each other for three. It took you two years to befriend the guy. Granted, your first year at the school was spent interning with Storm, and you were as timid as a mouse, always hiding behind her - especially when Logan came around.

It wasn't until the end of your first year that Storm felt confident enough in your abilities to loosen the lead. She began letting you go on missions with other people. At first, you avoided missions involving Logan; he was still too intense at times, and your self-confidence wasn't as strong as Storm's faith in you. But after a few big missions, you began to grow into yourself, and your confidence skyrocketed.

Missions evolved from involving handfuls of students and professors to solo projects as things got more serious. Then came one particular mission where Charles and the team felt it best that Logan accompany you. You protested right up until you left.

"Y/n," Charles stared at you intently as you stood by the door, Logan's footsteps thudding around the corner. "It's not that we think you aren't capable. We need your full focus on decoding the encrypted system."

"And I can-" You feel yourself getting fussy, as childish as it sounds. Scott grabs you by the shoulders, cutting you off mid-sentence, shocking you.

"Listen, Y/n," he sighs. "As much as you hate it, you're one of us now. The information you're going after is too valuable to risk doing it on your own. We need you to be one hundred percent focused on that, because once Sebastian Shaw realizes we're trying to get into his system, he will rain hellfire on whoever gets in his way. Logan is the only one who can be of service to you right now, so please." His voice softens as he begs. You see the worry sewn into his eyebrows and look at Charles, who is staring right back at you.

You sighed, just as Logan walked up behind Charles.

"Okay," you give a tight smile, and Scott taps his knuckle against your chin, trying to cheer you up. You let out an airy laugh and shove his hand away.

"You'll be fine," he tousles your hair before turning to look at Logan, who's staring intently at you both. Logan doesn't say anything and begins walking out the door.

"Professor," he grumbles as his figure fades into the dark of the night. Charles watches Logan walk off, then turns to you with a smirk on his face.

"Don't worry, everything will work out as it's supposed to." He gives you a wink, leaving you confused about his meaning.

"Uh, alright," you say, giving him a small nod as you head out following Logan.

After that mission, you and Logan became an oddly almost inseparable pair, which you deem as "friendship" even if he doesn't agree. Although you weren't glued to the hip, Logan was almost never far behind, and neither were you. Over the past couple of months, though, your relationship with Logan has evolved into something... complicated. There's an undeniable closeness between you, but it's hard to define. Sometimes, it feels like you're the little sister he never had - he's protective, gruff, and occasionally teases you mercilessly. Other times, there's a crackling tension in the air that makes you wonder if there's something more.

Like the time you were reaching for a book in the library, and Logan came up behind you to help. His chest brushed against your back as he grabbed it, and when you turned, you found yourself trapped between him and the bookshelf. For a moment, neither of you moved, your eyes locked, hearts racing. The air felt charged, and you could've sworn you saw something flicker in his eyes before he stepped back. You whispered a shy "thanks," avoiding eye contact by pretending to wipe dust off the book jacket. Logan straightened up, muttering "No problem, kid," as he walked away.

Or the time you were bantering in the garage while he worked on his bike. What started as playful teasing about him being demanding turned into something more when you challenged his ability to intimidate you anymore. He stood up slowly, moving close until you were almost nose to nose, growling softly, "Wanna bet?" The tension was palpable until Scott's voice broke the moment.

Then there's how you've fallen into these little routines without even realizing. Like how Logan always saves you a seat at briefings, or how you automatically grab two beers when heading to the kitchen after a long day. Or especially when, on every second and fourth Sunday morning of the month, both you and Logan have brunch (that's right) at this one diner that you insisted was to die for. It wasn't until Beast commented on your "domestic routine" that you both seemed to realize how couple-like you'd become.

And who could forget those late-night talks? Like the time you wandered into the kitchen at 2 AM, plagued by mission nightmares, only to find Logan there. What started as a few words of comfort turned into hours of conversation, sharing fears and hopes. As dawn broke, Logan squeezed your hand and said, "You're stronger than you think, kid." The look in his eyes made your heart skip a beat.

Moments like that leave you wondering if there's something more brewing between you and Logan, something beyond the boundaries of friendship or family. But neither of you has been brave enough to cross that line... yet.

You've tried to convince yourself it's nothing more than a close friendship, possibly a mentorship even. But there are moments - fleeting and intense - that make you question everything. You're stuck in this limbo, too afraid to push for more, yet unable to ignore the possibility that there might be something deeper brewing between you and Logan.

A guttural roar rips through the air, startling you out of your focus. Your head snaps towards Logan as another snore cuts through the silence. You don't know whether to laugh or look adoringly at the giant man sitting beside you.

He's sunken deeper into the sofa than when the movie first started. His arms are crossed over his chest, and his head lolls to the side, chin resting uncomfortably on his chest. His arms and head rise and fall with each breath, obviously so far gone at this point. You feel heat creeping up the back of your neck as you watch the usually stone-faced and stoic man sleeping beside you.

He's clad in comfortable clothes: black sweatpants, a zip-up hoodie, and his usual wifebeater clinging to his skin underneath. Your eyes focus on the bare skin that peeks out between the fabric of his sweater and the sleeve of the tank top. His hair is tousled and fluffier than usual, the air conditioning giving you occasional whiffs of peppermint and eucalyptus — his signature shampoo. The scent is never overwhelming, rather a subtle reminder of his presence.

You find yourself studying his face, softer now in sleep than you've ever seen it. The perpetual furrow between his brows has smoothed out, and his lips are slightly parted. Another snore rumbles through him, and you can't help but smile. It's rare to see Logan so unguarded, so... human.

A part of you wants to wake him, to tease him about falling asleep during your favorite movie. But a larger part revels in this moment of vulnerability, this glimpse of Logan that so few get to see. You wonder what he'd do if you gently brushed that stray lock of hair from his forehead, or if you repositioned yourself so you were closer.

The movie plays on, forgotten, as you lose yourself in contemplation of the man beside you. You're hyper-aware of every point where your bodies touch: your leg against his thigh, your arm brushing his as you shift slightly. The warmth of his body seems to seep into yours, and you find yourself leaning closer, drawn in by his presence even in sleep.

It's in quiet moments like these that the line between friendship and something more blurs dangerously. You know you should look away, should focus on the movie, but you can't bring yourself to break this spell. Instead, you allow yourself this stolen moment, committing every detail to memory, all the while wondering if Logan ever has moments like this about you. 

All of a sudden, Logan jolts and his head falls back against the headrest, another loud snore coming from his mouth and physically shaking your chest.

Alright, that's enough.

You shift closer to him while grabbing the pillow from behind your back and swing it towards his face. He instinctively grabs your wrist before you can make contact and pulls you in closer. He opens his eyes, staring at you threateningly as if asking "what the hell do you think you're doing," but when he realizes it's you, his gaze softens.

"What," he says, his voice deep with sleep. He unconsciously pulls you closer so your chest barely brushes against his shoulder.

"Get up, you're snoring and I can't hear the movie," you quip, trying not to let your voice falter - as if being this close to him had no effect on you whatsoever. Not like you were paying attention anyway. Logan sighs, lowering your hand from his face but not letting go of your wrist. Instead, he continues to hold it in his hand as he rests it on his stomach. Your hand tenses against the warmth of his body and - god, you hope he didn't feel that.

"Then turn it up louder," he says, closing his eyes and trying to make himself comfortable once again. You don't move. Instead, you... maybe... lean in closer? Logan doesn't notice.

"What, so you can yell at me for waking you up?" You give him a little nudge with your leg. "I don't think so."

Logan's eyes remain closed, but his grip on your wrist loosens, his thumb absently tracing circles on your skin. The gentle touch sends shivers up your arm.

"You woke me up anyway," he murmurs, his voice a low rumble that you feel more than hear.

You try to steady your breathing, very aware of how close you are. "Well, someone had to save you from choking on your own snores."

His lips quirk up in a half-smile. "My hero," he says dryly, finally opening his eyes to look at you.

The intensity of his gaze catches you off guard. There's something there, something beyond his usual gruffness. Your breath hitches as his eyes roam your face, lingering on your lips before meeting your eyes again.

"Logan," you whisper, not sure what you're asking for.

He shifts slightly, turning his body towards you. Your knees dig deeper into his hip and thigh, and he still hasn't let go of your wrist. With his free hand, he reaches up, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers linger on your cheek, and you instinctively lean into his touch.

"Yeah?" he responds, his voice rough and low.

The air between you feels charged, electric. You're hyper-aware of every point of contact between you - his hand on your face, his fingers around your wrist, your legs pressed together. Your heart is pounding so hard you're sure he can hear it.

Logan leans in, slowly, giving you every opportunity to pull away. But you don't. You can't. You're frozen, caught between anticipation and disbelief. Is this really happening?

Just as his lips are about to brush yours, a loud explosion from the forgotten movie makes you both jump. The spell is broken. Logan pulls back, clearing his throat.

"We should, uh... finish the movie," he says, but he doesn't move away. His arm comes to rest on the back of the couch behind you, not quite touching but close enough that you can feel the heat radiating from him.

You nod, not trusting your voice. As you settle back to watch the film, you're hyper-aware of Logan beside you. The almost-kiss hangs in the air between you, unspoken but impossible to ignore. Every now and then, you catch him looking at you out of the corner of your eye, and you know that something has fundamentally shifted between you.

The movie plays on, but neither of you are really watching anymore. You're too busy wondering what might happen when the credits roll, and secretly hoping that maybe, just maybe, you'll get another chance to finish what you started.

[forest-falcon]

The Butterfly Effect

Chpr 9

⚠️ Trigger Warning for whump and angst.

🧡💙🩵

John brought the space elevator to a smooth halt just above the caldera.

He wanted to get a birds-eye view of One before he touched down.

The elevator door opened, and the astronaut made a conscious effort to coordinate his limbs; the additional gravity about as welcome as a new Fischler Enterprise venture.

John cracked his joints.

"Alright. Time to fly."

The astronaut leapt from the elevator and his jetpack deployed.

*. *. *.

Kayo flailed midair.

There was no time to think, only feel.

Her stomach seemed to drop faster than terminal velocity.

Darkness was swallowing her as light flew from view.

A hand grasped her wrist.

"Kayo. Glad I caught you!"

"John!" Kayo gave an incredulous half-laugh.

"Am I glad to see you!"

"Hold on..."

John guided the two of them back to the relative safety of the poolside.

As soon as his boots touched the ground, Kayo wrapped her brother in a Virgil-esque hug.

"K-ay!"

Kayo indulged herself the human contact a moment longer, before the sound of a jet engine could be heard approaching the island.

"Protocol Phoenix."

John had practically exhaled the words. Relief and disbelief was etched in his features, as though he had forgotten that he himself had summoned them.

"Here. Help Scott."

John shed his jetpack and ran to meet the carrier approaching the beach.

With feline accuracy, Kayo caught the pack.

Hold on Scott, I'm coming.

*. *. *

"Scott? Scott? You with me?"

Scott stirred, his brain registering the noise, but not the name.

"Scott, it's Kayo. Come on, sleepy head, no snoozing on the job. Can you open your eyes for me?"

A muted moan rattled around his ribcage.

His head hurt.

He was vaguely aware of his eyelashes flickering. Jeez...the last time his head felt this bad, he'd sampled some of Gordon's homemade moonshine. The memory curdled his stomach and he whimpered.

"You're okay. You're okay. I'm with you."

Kayo's slender fingers were resting on his face...on grazed cheekbones. It didn't hurt, not really. Not compared to the other injuries his body sported; but there was something in the sensation that registered as uncomfortable; an invasion of personal space that had him pulling away from her touch.

"Scott, try not to move for me, okay? It's very important that we keep your neck and head still."

His eyes finally opened.

"There you are."

Kayo offered him a warm smile. A smile saturated in love and reassurance. A smile that told him that he was going to be okay.

"-ay?"

Eurgh, his mouth was dry.

"I've been called worse," her expression shrugged, but her hands remained steady.

"Head."

It hurt. He still didn't know why. Where were they? Building collapse?

"You've been in an accident."

"Air?"

"Air?" Kayo parroted.

"I'm not sure I follow. Your oxygen stats look good... Or do you mean you were flying in the air?"

"Wh-w-where?"

His lungs felt like they were out of sync from the other muscles it took to breathe.

"Oh! You're home Scott. Well, the pool...kinda."

Scott blinked at her.

"Not your finest landing."

Landing.

Like a circuit finally completed, the jigsaw fell in place.

He'd been fixing One's overhead locker when the call came in.

Some pot-holers had managed to get themselves wedged in a remote location and needed assistance.

Gordon and Alan were already out in Four, and Virgil was off rota, so; One was required to safely extract the group.

His mind had switched to rescue mode. Muscle memory fulfilling the required procedures to launch his Bird. Truth be told, he couldn't remember stashing the Toolbox he was using in the very locker he had been fixing, but his head injury attested to the fact that he had.

The mission proved to be a straightforward one. Honestly, the GDF could have taken it; but given the limited information they had to go on, they weren't to know.

With no visible injuries and paramedics having arrived on scene; Scott fired One, and headed home. It wasn't until she made the switch to horizontal flight that the toolbox had shifted. In any other locker it would have been fine, but...stupid is as stupid does. He'd shoved it in the faulty one.

...which promptly opened.

...allowing the contents to rain down on top of him.

Judging on colour alone; the wrench was the offending item that had clipped him. The grease rags had mercifully missed.

What happened next was all a bit of a blur.

All he could really remember was wanting to make it home to Virgil.

"Vir-gil?"

"We'll get to Virgil. Right now, you're my priority."

"Pri-rity?"

"Yes. John and the rest of Phoenix are heading to him now."

Scott felt his veins turn to ice.

"No, no, no... Virg-l!"

Kayo's hands were fussing around him.

He pushed the aid away. This was his fault.

He did this.

Kayo attempted to thwart his thrashing.

"Geroff me and help Vir-"

"Sco-"

"VIRGIL!"

"-Shut the hell up Scott and listen!"

Two cat-green eyes pinned him.

"One is compromised. You not listening endangers us both, get it? I'm not leaving you, so either you let me do my job, or we both die here."

Scott's brain cowered. She meant every word. Kayo, like the rest of them, was loyal to a fault. She wouldn't leave him.

Sensing his outburst had passed; Kayo began fastening the foam blocks around his head.

She was staring him dead in the face.

"Help is coming."

Now he understood. First responders make for the worst patients. Best he could do was to trust her.

"Okay."

"Good."

Kayo exhaled slowly.

“John's activated Protocol Phoenix. The carrier has already arrived and John's gone to meet them.”

Scott blinked groggily. If Protocol Phoenix had been activated, then this was an even bigger fuck-up than he'd first thought.

“Phoe-nix?”

“Yes Scott. We rise from the ashes.”

"God, that's cheesy."

"Attaboy. Now let's get out of here."

[sgt-seabass]

How would Nick react in clockwork au if puppy was blearily saying James’ name in her sleep?

𝒔𝒍𝒆𝒆𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒔

✧˚ · . Nick wants all of you. And he will do whatever it takes to claim your soul.

pairing — mob boss!prime alpha!nick fowler x omega!reader w/c — 1.9k this is a dark fic. 18+ only. AU masterlist. listening to — ♫sleepless warnings —general dark elements (dark AU), a/b/o dynamics, manipulation. a/n — thank you for the ask and interest in the AU! i hope you enjoy. jessica chastain is not a representative of the readers looks i just wanted a gif of nick kissing a forehead lol. not beta read, we die like men.

The first time Nick heard it, he thought it was ghosts whispering that damned name in his ear.

The second time Nick heard it, he realised it was a scarier reality than phantoms.

You were calling for James in your sleep again, an occurrence that happened regularly.

Even after all the work Nick had put into making you his, there was still that subconscious part of you that held onto the past. Even though you smiled at him in your waking hours, someone else had a space in your heart.

It wasn’t like it was unexpected. Nick knew he would be crazy to assume you would have no residual feelings for your lost life. But it still hurt. His omega, calling for someone else.

He wondered what you dreamt. Did you dream of James in a world where he survived? Or were they memories of the past? Did he treat you well? Were you happy?

There was a quirk in your lips, a slight sway of your hips. Were you dancing with him?

Nick considered calling Steve. Doctor Kemp always seemed to have a way of making omegas comply, plus he was one of his greatest allies. But Nick knew that the heavy-handed approach wouldn’t be appropriate here. While Steve’s suggestion of having other alphas use you worked to break you down beautifully, accessing a soul was a task that required a delicate touch.

Slipping from the bed, Nick left you in your peaceful slumber, dreaming of the man you would never have. In nothing more than black sweatpants and a navy sweater, he sat in his chilly office.

For a while, he just kept the lights off and pondered.

If his younger self could see him now, he wondered what he’d think. This was certainly not the life Nick had intended to lead.

But the world was cruel, and so he became crueller. To escape hardship, he became the creator of it. A devil walking the earth. 

Around you, though, he wanted to be good to you. He would never forget when he heard you laugh for the first time. Nick had accidentally tickled your sides while brushing past you, and the sound that came from you was glorious.

Nick sighed, pouring himself a scotch from the decanter. He’d burn the world, but keep you safe always.

After he’d finished his glass, the familiar burn of liquor pooling in his belly, Nick turned to the only other person he trusted the opinion of.

Hal Carter. The alpha worked on Ari’s ranch. While Ari bred omegas using alpha studs, Hal trained them and kept them calm. He was gentle. Those girls were taken well cared of, which was to be expected when they needed to produce pups.

It was an art how Hal could smile and exude calming energy to those around him. His words were always smooth like silk, rolling off his tongue so naturally you can’t help but listen. It helped the omegas stay calm, and they all trusted him. He was still one of the bad guys; all the alphas in his circle were. But he was the best of the bad. Scott Huffman, the one who would take Ari’s bred pups in and raise them on his ranch, he was a close second.

Within thirty minutes of texting him, Hal turned up on the mansion’s doorstep. The sun was barely rising, only subtle hues of gold beginning to grow.

“Thanks for coming so early,” Nick ushered Hal inside, bringing him to the office while the rest of the home remained in a dream state.

“I normally get up by dawn to go hunting anyway, s’no trouble.” Nonchalant as ever, Hal sat himself down in one of the office armchairs in his green plaid shirt and blue jeans.

Nick poured himself another scotch, plopping two ice cubes into the crystal glass. “Want a drink?”

Hal raised a brow, scoffing. “Unless it’s orange juice, no. I ‘ain’t drinking.”

“I can do that,” Nick said, disappearing from the room and returning with a tall glass of juice, a slight shudder of nervousness in his hand when he gave it to Hal.

There was a rawness in the air, as if Nick wasn’t playing a game. He was putting his whole deck of cards on the table for Hal to see. It was hard to trust, but Nick didn’t have anywhere else to turn.

Nick sat in the armchair opposite Hal, swirling the liquid in his glass, and Hal quirked his head. “Look, as much as I love catching up with you, why did you ask me here so urgently? Is something wrong?”

Nick went through the long explanation of your past, how you came into his care, and how you were acting now. Hal listened attentively, face staying blank as the horrors were laid bare. After explaining, Nick sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I want her to dream of me. Dream of her alpha.”

“So, what you’re telling me is you’ve killed her alpha, kidnapped her, had her gang fucked, chased her, and choked her until she passed out, yet you expect her to dream of you?”

There was a beat of silence before Hal spoke again. “Do you really act like her alpha? She’s not a toy, Nick. And she’s not just a pet. You have to be gentle.”

“I don’t know how to be gentle,” Nick sneered, crossing his arms defensively. 

“Bullshit. Every alpha has a gentle instinct deep down. Be the alpha your sister and mother would have wanted you to become.”

Nick growled and stood, throwing the glass at the wall behind Hal’s head, the crystal shattering into a million shards across the dark hardwoods. It was ballsy bringing up his family. The other alpha flinched slightly, but he wasn’t afraid.

Nick puffed his chest, gritting his teeth so hard they were ready to shatter. “That’s a cruel thing to say. You’re pushing it, Hal.”

“It is cruel. But it’s what ‘ya needed to hear. The world is fucked, but her world doesn’t have to be. You’re the one bringing that upon her. You want her to dream of you? Give her memories good enough to dream about. You’ve broken her down, and done the harsh things you needed to. Now you need to build her back up. Without that affection, she will just continue to crumble time and time again. Don't you want to see her smile?”

“More than anything,” Nick grumbled, sitting back in his chair with a hardened expression. He wanted to feel your happiness through the bond. It was like a drug.

Hal drank the last of his juice, setting the glass down gently on the side table. “Then, there you go. Just work to make her smile for you more. Life is good with a happy omega, Nick.”

“She hates what I do, though. And I can’t - and won’t - change that.”

“Then make her existence with you good enough to outweigh that.” Hal proposed the idea like it was easy. Just treat you right, and it would all fall into place.

But was it really that easy?

The chase had changed you. You were more receptive to Nick and seemed more content overall. But he could still see the flickers of fear that lay dormant, ready to wake at any time. And James— Well. Your subconscious hadn’t let him go yet.

Perhaps Hal was right. Maybe you were broken enough that you’d adapt to this life with some positive reinforcement.

After Hal had left, Nick ordered the staff to make you breakfast before he wandered back up to the bedroom, the morning sun beginning to peek past the blinds. Nick took his jumper off, wanting to feel your skin on his. 

You shifted a little in your sleep when the bed dipped from Nick’s weight, his arms looping around you and pulling your naked form close. “...Alpha…?” You asked blearily. It wasn’t often you got morning cuddles like this. Normally, Nick was already working by the time you rose.

“Morning, omega,” Nick kissed your forehead, spooning you so his warm, firm chest was flush with your back. “Nice dreams?”

You stiffened for a moment before nodding, curling into his hold comfortably. “Yeah.”

“Good. I need you full of energy today,” Nick said as he kissed your neck gingerly, a soft contrast to his tight hold on you.

Nick ran his hand up and down your side, fingers running over the bruises he’d left on your skin the day prior when he fucked you rough over his desk.

“Are we playing hunt the whelp?” Your voice wavered nervously. So meek, so small. Nick nearly growled at the thought of hunting you, but he held it back.

Nick cleared his throat, shifting a little, so his hard-on wasn’t too obvious against your ass. He was trying to focus, all his energy going into being nice. But Nick could tell you knew he was turned on, your own arousal signalling through the bond. “No, no. We’re going shopping.”

You perked up at that, turning to look at Nick. Your curious shining eyes had his heart skipping a beat. “Shopping? Like, going outside?”

“Yes. We’re going into town. I’ll buy you whatever you want.” 

The excitement that flooded the bond was overwhelming. Nick had never felt anything like it. You were happy. But there was some anxiety there too. “Won’t people recognise you? What if something goes wrong?” You asked with a growing frown.

Nick shhed you, gently running his finger over your frown and pushing your lips up at the edge so you were smiling. “You’re the safest omega in the world. Plus, Beck and Mace will be there too.”

Your expression turned into a genuine smile. And Nick smiled back.

“Sit up. I need to check your head.” Nick turned to the bedside, getting together his dabbing alcohol and bandages. You always seemed to end up with some injury after Nick had a bad day. It wasn’t overly intentional, but his anger often turned into dark arousal that left you sore and battered but pleasured too.

You’d banged your head on the desk yesterday when Nick shoved you down and caught your forehead on one of his fountain pens. It left a cut, but Beck dismissed it as minor, needing to be covered with a plaster.

Nick pulled away the bandage with you sitting cross-legged in front of him. He hummed, content at the sight of the healing cut. “Looks good, pup. My good girl, healing so well.”

Nick could feel the heat radiating from your skin as he gently cleaned the cut before placing a fresh bandage on the wound.

“Ah, just in time.” Nick put his things away as your breakfast was brought in. Pancakes with maple syrup and strawberries.

You seemed like a fish out of water, and Nick understood that. He was flipping his demeanour for you. This was new for him, but not entirely unwelcome, especially when he felt your ease through the bond.

Nick sat with you, cutting up the pancakes and feeding you small bites. Every so often, you would meet his gaze, a little twinkle in your eye that wasn’t there before.

It wouldn’t always be like this, and Nick knew he had a long way to go in putting your pieces back together.

But it was a task he knew he would never fail. 

He would have all of you.

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[somegrrlreads]

Book Review - Wasteland: The Great War and the Origins of Horror by W. Scott Poole

review of Wasteland by W. Scott Poole.

Book Summary: Historian and Bram Stoker Award nominee W. Scott Poole traces the confluence of history, technology, and art that gave us modern horror films and literature in Wasteland. In the early twentieth century, World War I was the most devastating event humanity had yet experienced. New machines of war left tens of millions killed or wounded in the most grotesque of ways. The Great War…