#This is one of the things I wish I talked about more in my Coven post but I feared that people were gonna get mad

[autisticagathasblog]

It's kind of crazy how Dot blatantly has an eating disorder, and despises she is in the narrative because she is a fat girl and then it's just ignored. so silly so silly so silly:))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

[seokgyuu]

Running a little witch store in a small town, recently the only exciting thing has been Jake visiting your store every other day. While he doesn’t buy anything, his looks are enough to make your days a little less boring. And when he comes in one day, mixing up his offered tea with a very, very powerful aphrodisiac… it is about to get a lot more than just a little less boring. 

Pairing: Neighbor!Jake x Witch!Reader Genre: Porn with almost no plot, Supernatural (as reader is a witch, duh) Warnings: Jake is a bit of an idiot but hot, reader is very sarcastic… are those even warnings? Reader has female anatomy and is described as a woman, pure filth basically, MINORS DNI!!! Smut tags under the cut Word Count: 6k  A/N: Well hello! Happy Halloween everyone! My little last minute Halloween Project is done! First up, thanks to @aaagustd for the AMAZING banner!!! And my lovely @heechwe for betaing! This  work was very, highly, extremely inspired by a clears throat spicy audio that was uploaded literally last night. Could not stop imagining it to be Jake who this happens to… so here we are. The creator’s name is AugustInTheWinter, check out his Patreon or Reddit, I swear it is SO worth it if you’re into audios!! Anyway, thanks August for this inspo and thank you guys for reading! tagging my beloved @yvnempire because she's so excited about this hehe. Please leave comments and/or reblog, it would mean the absolute world! Wanna support me? Here's my Ko-Fi!

Smut Tags: Big dick!Jake, Jake starts nervous and a bit subby, but turns into a beast, handjob, blowjob, face-fucking, facial, p in v sex, unprotected sex (stay safe kids!!), multiple orgasms, loads of cum (like really… so much), dirty talk, degradation (words used: whore, slut, hole, fucktoy etc.) cumplay, cum eating, tell me if i missed anything!

Everything about this town was boring. 

The scenery was boring. The activities were boring. The people were boring.

Just… everything. 

Your coven had sent you here because of the apparent magical aura you so, as they said, “desperately needed to achieve your full potential”. Bullshit, for all you cared. The magical aura might have been strong, but it was so deeply rooted into the earth, you had trouble reaching it even after hours of channeling your own powers. Of course, you didn’t tell them that. All they knew was that you were having a blast in this shithole of a town and had already made tons of friends. 

So far no one had questioned your answers and so you just lived your life, hoping you would soon succeed in attaining the magical power of this place and go back to your normal life. 

Recently, though, you at least had something a little less boring gracing you every other day. Jake Sim - the neighbor from across the street. He was handsome and a little shy and very obviously did not believe magic existed. Not that you cared much about that, no, you had been exposed to many people who didn’t believe in you and your kind, not to mention all the other supernatural beings walking on the face of earth. 

Jake was a non-believer and wonderful to look at and you were fine with that. Content. More than happy. 

As you were brewing some potions a few of the older women around town had ordered (while they also didn’t exactly believe in magic, they at least believed in your ability to brew things that were extremely efficient in their gardens), you found yourself thinking about the pretty man again. About his laugh and his eyes, about the way his shirt would rise up and show a bit of his happy trail leading down to something you could only wish to see fully exposed one day. 

Truthfully, the last time you got laid had been ages ago. So long that you couldn’t even really remember who it was with and where. It was a curse, this town, and seeing a young attractive man stalking into your store a few weeks back had suddenly brought back the desire you had managed to suppress for who knows how long. 

Just then, as you were deep in thought, cutting up some lavender, the door opened and the little bell above it rang, bringing you back to the present. 

“Hi Y/N!” 

Jake had his puppy smile on, hair blown out of his face and a thick coat hanging off his shoulders. He walked over to the counter and you smiled up at him, catching yourself finding his flushed cheeks extremely endearing.

“Jake, welcome. Anything I can do for you today or are just here for another chat about how magic can’t be real?” You tilted your head and gave him a playful smile that he answered with a little laugh.

“Actually, I did come for something today. Mrs. Bloodstean said you have some great tonics for flowers?”

Ah, yes, Mrs, Bloodstean, the woman three houses down who had trouble with her roses. You had helped her and now her roses bloomed all year round. 

“I do indeed, Mr. Sim. What can I get for you?”

“Well, I’ve been having some troubles with my Mandevillas… they don’t seem to wanna bloom as much as, uh, I would like them to.”

His sheepish grin would have made your knees weak if you’d been standing. You nodded and got up, checking the shelves behind you for the potion he’d need to get his flowers to grow and bloom as much as he liked. Eyes roaming over the different bottles, you soon came to the realization you were out and clicked your tongue.

“Seems like I’ll have to brew one. That’s gonna take a couple minutes, do you want some tea while you wait?”

Jake nodded yes and smiled, turning around to do this usual routine through the rows of shelves in your store. From a safe distance, he began to watch you do your thing, cutting up ingredients and throwing them into a miniature cauldron Jake couldn’t help but be amused by. A witch store in the middle of this small town, run by one of the most attractive women Jake had ever laid his eyes on. 

When he had first stumbled in here, he had mistaken it for an alternative medicine shop. While he wasn’t totally wrong, he also wasn’t fully correct. You did offer some remedies and lotions, some potions and tonics, but you also had crystals and salts and books in your many high rising wooden shelves. The first day, he had spent hours just browsing through the books, not thinking of actually buying anything, but somehow being immersed into this world of magic he was so sure could only exist in fiction. 

He hadn’t even noticed someone working at the front behind the counter until he turned to leave, almost stumbling over his feet when he spotted you. You concentrated on a page in an old looking book, biting down onto your tongue that was slightly sticking out of your mouth. You with the prettiest face he had ever seen, that made it so hard to look away. 

After that, he came back every other day, hoping to talk to you, get to know you and maybe ask you out on a date. Of course, he never did because if Jake was anything it was a coward. It didn’t matter that he somehow happened to be handsome, his charisma was in the trenches. 

It was obvious he didn’t see the effect he had on you, which made it even more fun to have him around in your store. You could sense that this man did not have one indecent thought about you while in the store, even when you wore low cut shirts or skirts with slits almost as high as your hip. No, he was a good boy, a sweet boy. The contrast of the two of you was almost comical - you thinking about what it would be like to feel him, to taste him, to push him against a bookshelf and have your way with him and Jake just wanting to man up to ask you out. 

Circling back to the front, Jake saw you hard at work and decided to fill his tea cup by himself, the steaming blue teapot on the right side of the counter. Smiling, he brought the cup to his lips and took a sip, his eyes widening at the sweet taste. 

God, that’s delicious!

The hotness of the drink seemed to fade into the background as the taste spread on his tongue, so sweet and wonderful his eyes almost rolled back, the liquid making his whole body feel warm and fuzzy, and without even noticing he finished the whole cup in one go. 

“Wow, that tea is amazing! What kind is it? I don’t think I’ve ever had it before.” Jake put the cup back down and beamed at you. 

Blinking, you looked up at the brown-haired man, your mind a little slow at catching up with what Jake said. 

“What do you mean?” You asked, brows furrowing slightly.

“The tea you made me, what kind is it?” He repeated, pointing at the teapot next to him. 

Your eyes widened for a brief moment, then you slowly got up.

“How much did you drink of that?” You asked calmly. 

“A whole cup, it’s like so, so good, how-,”

“A whole cup?!” The volume of your voice surprised both of you and Jake’s eyes widened in surprise, his mouth dropping open a little.

“Was that- was I not supposed to? I- I’m sorry, you seemed busy, so I just helped myself.”

You stayed silent for a few seconds. Watching Jake’s confused face, trying to read his thoughts. He had absolutely no idea what he just drank. But you did. 

A grin found its way onto your lips, a grin so diabolical it made Jake’s stomach turn. 

“That’s not your tea, Jakey,” you said, pointing at the teapot he drank from, “your tea is over here.”

Jake followed where your finger pointed next, a small black teapot standing to your left, all done with a cute little pink cup next to it. He blinked a few times.

“Then- then what is this?” He asked, nervousness beginning to spread through his body. Your grin deepened.

“Oh, that? That’s just the very, very powerful aphrodisiac for Mrs. Brown’s husband. See, he can’t really get it up anymore.”

Silence. Jake felt like the whole world had suddenly gone silent at your words. But then he remembered where he was, who you were and how incredibly unlikely it was that this really worked. So, he snorted.

“Right. An aphrodisiac in the form of tea, I’m sure that’s gonna work wonders with Mr. Brown.”

“Not just him, but you too, you know,” you began to walk around the counter, stopping when you reached the other side, leaning against it with crossed arms, “and you’re only supposed to drink one sip of it. You, dear Jakey, drank a whole fucking cup.”

Honestly, Jake still didn’t believe you. Or at least he thought he didn’t. But something about the way you looked at him almost made him falter. He laughed and shook his head.

“Come on, Y/N, I’m not an idiot. This obviously isn’t going to work, it’s a hoax, we all know it’s a hoax.”

“Is it though, Jake? Is it really a hoax?”

“What? Of course it is! Magic isn’t real, can’t be real, this tea surely won’t help Mr. Brown get an erection and I, my friend, more than anything, will not get aroused by some fake viag-,”

Oh shit. Jake couldn’t help the deep moan escaping his throat when he suddenly felt the hardest wave of pleasure hit his body. He almost dropped to his knees, his cock growing harder by the second, pressing against the seam of his jeans, making them uncomfortably tight. 

“You won’t get aroused, Jake? Yes? Is that right?” You were having the time of your life. This was better than anything you could have ever predicted. By Mystra, how could you have forgotten about the tea for Mrs. Brown? And how lucky were you for Jake to mistake it as his own? You couldn’t believe your luck. 

“What the fuck is going on?” Jake groaned now, his chest heaving and you tilted your head again, watching sweat form on the handsome man’s forehead. His pupils were blown and his face flushed and, fuck, did he look good. 

“I would say the potion is kicking in. How does it feel?” You bit your lip, watching Jake struggle to find words for what was happening inside… and outside of him.

“I- well, oh fuck, it, uhm, it feels… it feels like, like I’ve never- like it’s so.. it’s so h-hard, you know?”

“Hm, I don’t think I do. Perhaps you can show me, just so I can check if it all looks normal?”

Jake’s cock twitched at that. You wanted to see? Check if it looked normal? Another moan made its way through his lips and it sounded so utterly pathetic you felt yourself drip into your panties.

“Wh- what do you mean “normal”? C-Could it look, like, n-not normal?” He was sweating. A part of him really wanted you to see, to check, to maybe even touch him, but another felt shy, didn’t want this to happen before taking you out to a nice dinner, maybe even a movie and- 

Fuck, who was he kidding? 

“I don’t know, that’s why I wanna check. Will you show me, Jakey?” 

“F-fine, b-but only to check!” His cheeks were on fire at this point. His cheeks on fire and his cock hard as a rock, aching and throbbing and probably aggressively red at the tip. 

That last prediction proved to be correct when he pulled down his pants and briefs at once, his cock springing free, standing harder and prouder than he had ever seen it. He whimpered at the sight. 

And you? You almost fell to your knees, itching to touch him, to lick over the tip that was already leaking so, so miserably. Oh good lord. Your teeth sank into your bottom lip again and you swallowed hard, eyes glued to the huge cock Jake had been hiding from you.

“Is it- is it always this big?” You asked, not even looking into Jake’s face anymore.

“Well, n-not when it’s not, uhm, you know… h-hard.”

“So it’s this size even when no potion is involved?” You wanted to know.

“Y-yeah, that didn’t change.”

“Holy fuck,” you mumbled, your hand wanting to grab around him so badly, but you contained yourself. 

“What- what can we do? Like is there an antidote? Can I- can I drink another potion? Or maybe there is, uhm, fuck, a spell or something?”

You chuckled.

“Now you believe in spells, Jakey? Funny timing,” finally, you raised your head to look at him again, “but no, there is no antidote. Like I said, it’s made to help get it up and given in a specific dose. But you, my dear, drank probably thrice as much as necessary.”

“So what does that mean? I- I can’t just go home like this!”

He was right about that. Everyone would see him sporting the largest boner known to mankind. And right now, you decided, this was only for your eyes. 

“I think the best way to deal with it is to, frankly speaking, empty it.”

Stars seemed to dance around Jake’s head when you spoke, the image of you rubbing his cock, sucking on it or even bouncing on it to empty him of all his cum… he twitched aggressively. 

“S-so, wh-what are you sug-suggesting?” His heart was speeding in chest and he was trying his hardest not to jump to conclusions. 

Yet another devilish grin spread on your lips as you raised your hand and snapped your fingers, closing the blinds of the storefront window and locking the door all at once. In any other situation, Jake would have been freaked out, but right now all he could concentrate on was the way you pushed yourself off the counter and looked at him from head to, well, problem.

“I am suggesting, Jake, that it would only be right of me to help you out.”

Jake swallowed hard, glued to where he was standing, his cock still so unbelievably hard, still aching and throbbing and in desperate need of attention. 

As you lowered yourself, knees soon hitting the wooden floor, he couldn’t take his eyes off you.

“Do you want me to help you out?”

“God, yes, please.”

And there it was. All that you needed to finally bring your hand to his cock. He immediately moaned, head falling back as his hips moved forward, thrusting into your grip. You chuckled as you slowly began to move, bringing your thumb to his tip, gathering all of the already leaking precum to use as lubricant. 

It already brought you immense pleasure, jerking him off. Staring up at him, seeing nothing but pure lust and desperation on his face. You were throbbing between your legs, wetness building up more every passing moment. 

“Fuuuuuck, yeah, j-just like that, oh wow.” 

Jake felt like he had never been touched like this before. Every bit of friction against his skin was like the first time. Every inch you touched with your hand was burning, sparkling with something he could only describe as magic. He couldn’t stop the desperate moans even if he tried, couldn’t stop his hips chasing your hand, thrusting into it like a mad man. 

“Faster, please!” He cried out and you obeyed, speeding up your hand. Your eyes were glued to his cockhead then, watching how precum kept leaking, drips landing on your floor or the briefs that were hanging around his ankles with his jeans. 

You worked your hand faster, having trouble closing it around his big shaft and finally adding the second, working him at double speed with his cockhead still peaking out. 

God, how would he feel inside you? 

Two hands around his cock and Jake could sense a first orgasm approaching. He thrusted his hips, fucking both of your hands, eyes rolled back into his skull, the pleasure completely taking over.

“Yeah, yeah, just like that, fuck, fuck, I am fucking your hands so good, shit!” He didn’t know where to put his energy, switching between moaning and whining and saying his incoherent thoughts out loud, feeling himself leak onto your hands. He wondered what you’d do when he came, if you’d just let him come right onto you or if you’d point it elsewhere. 

“Feel good, Jakey? You look so hot, so, so good for me.” You stared up at him, batting your eyelashes and finally Jake looked down at you, his spit catching in his throat. You looked insane with his cock in your hands, your face wild and determined, a small grin on your lips that made his cock twitch once more. The whimper escaping him must have been the single most arousing thing you had ever heard. 

“I’m gonna come, I’m s-so close,” he cried and you nodded, licking over your lips.

“Yeah, come for me, wanna see you come, Jakey.”

When he had said yes to you helping him out, he sure as hell had not expected dirty talk to be involved and, shit, was he happy it was. His mouth fell open wider, eyes glossy and focused on your face. He knew it was going to be a lot, knew he’s going to shoot the biggest load of his life onto you in a few heartbeats.

“C-Coming, oh- shit!” 

When he came, he came. Cum spurted out his cock, and you didn’t even think about letting a drop go to waste. The first load landed on your neck and collarbones, dripped down your cleavage and over your breasts, the second you managed to catch with your tongue slurping it down like a five-star meal. The third landed on your cheeks and chin, some on your neck, joining his already left mark. 

Jake truly couldn’t believe his eyes. You, the woman he had been thinking about asking out for weeks now, covered in and eating his cum. Another little bit of cum dribbled out his cock and you caught it perfectly with the tip of your tongue, causing Jake to groan desperately. 

He was still so fucking hard. Still desperate for more.

“I need more, I’m still so hard, please.” His pleasing eyes and slightly trembling lips made the picture in front of you perfect. Jake, big cock full on display, still hard from the potion he had drank by pure accident, his first orgasm so powerful he had shot three loads onto you, was now begging you for more. 

And you were more than eager to make every wish of his come true. 

“Since you said please…,” you grinned, leaning forward, not giving a damn about the seed currently drying on your skin, and flicking your tongue against his tip, his hand almost immediately moving to grip the back of your head.  “God, yes, yes, please take it into your mouth, fuck, please!”

His wish was your command. 

Your lips closed around his tip, sucking on it just slightly, tongue gliding over his sensitive slit, tasting his bittersweet taste, wondering if maybe the potion had altered something about it. Next, you moved your head forward, taking more of him into your mouth, feeling the veins of his cock press against your tongue. A moan erupted through you, the arousal almost too much to bear at this point. 

“Ohhhh, god, yes, take it, take it deeper, shit.” His hips moved, pushing more of him into your mouth. He seemed to vibrate, seemed to fit perfectly into your wet heat, tip hitting the back of your throat and causing you to gag, spit dripping from his shaft down to the floor. Your hands grabbed the back of his thighs, steading yourself as he began to thrust down your throat. 

“Holy fuck, that’s right, gag on my cock, gag on it, fuck.”

It must have been the potion speaking because he wasn’t usually this vocal. But then again, he had never had anyone take his cock down their throat as well as you were doing right now. Gagging and spitting and tearing up, but nothing in your face showed discomfort. No, you were thriving on this and Jake felt your arousal in the air, felt it mixing with his and he sped up his hips, both hands now holding your head in place as he let out the most beautiful moan you had ever heard. 

He shoved you down his cock completely now, his balls hitting your chin as he fucked your mouth like it was the last thing he’d ever do. Drool mixed with his precum dribbled down your chin, tears began to stream down your face, your eyes rapidly blinking as you watched him lose all of his composure. You wished to keep this memory engraved into your brain for all of your life.

Jake was in a rush, in a complete trance, fucking down your throat, feeling your tongue against his shaft, your throat restricting around him, your gags and chokes turning him on even more. Somehow, with every thrust closer to his release, he felt the tension rise up more. 

What the fuck even was in that potion? 

It hit him then, his second orgasm, thrusts becoming sloppier, quicker, accompanied by desperate moans, whimpers and groans. 

You managed to swallow it all, the load just as huge as during his first orgasm, shot after shot down your throat, your eyes growing wide while you sucked him dry, or at least attempted to.

“Swallow it all, yes, yes, fuck, come on, come on! Take it all, I know you want to, fuck!” 

There was no control left in his body, the potions effect taking over completely. 

He emptied his cock into your mouth and pulled out when he at least thought it was over, only for another wave to hit him and land on your skin again. He felt like an artist painting an already perfect canvas with his own visions. 

“S-sorry, fuck,” He breathed hard, watching you slowly get up, your face wild and stained with his seed as well as your own tears. Your eyes were red, pupils blown and with every gaze you shared, he knew you wanted him as much as he wanted you. He swallowed and looked down, seeing his cock still hard, still throbbing and aching. Would this ever end?

“I need more, need more,” he mumbled, stumbling forward and grabbing your hips roughly. You moaned at his touch, your fingers gliding over your chest to pick up some of his cum and shove it into your mouth, sucking them clean. He swore under his breath.

“Do you want to fuck me, Jakey?” You asked then, voice sweet like honey, but body looking so breathtakingly filthy. 

“Want to, need to, have to,” he replied, moving to lick some of his own cum off your neck. You moaned at that surprising action, pussy throbbing and dripping. Without another thought, you dipped forward, pressing your lips against his. He kissed you back right away, tongue shoving into your mouth and he could taste himself even more on your tongue. His hands ripped open the corset-dress you were wearing, freeing your tits from their prison and immediately moving to grab them.

You hopped onto the counter then, pulling him closer, legs hooking around his waist. He kissed you hungrily, tongue and teeth and spit and hotness all mixed together. You shoved his coat off his shoulders and opened the buttons of his shirt, but he stopped you.

“No time, need to be inside you now.” He basically growled, fingers simultaneously finding your panties and ripping them off of you just like he had your dress. You spread your legs further, ready for him, more ready than you had ever been. 

Jake knew he had reached heaven right then. Grabbing his cock and bringing it to your drenched pussy, pushing into your awaiting entrance and feeling you grip him, pulling him closer. He cried out, whimpered into your ear and continued to suck on your skin, cleaning you off of his seed all while working to bottom out.

And when he was finally buried to the hilt, he only paused for a second to take it all in, before beginning to fuck into you at a brutal pace. Your fingers clawed into his shoulders, mouth dropping open as your head tipped back and high pitched moans crawled out of your throat over and over. 

“So fucking tight, taking me so fucking well, such a dirty fucking slut.” Jake bit your neck and you cried out once more, your whole body shaking with pleasure as he continued to fuck you. There was nothing you could compare to what was happening right now. No one had ever fucked you as good, as hard and as fulfilling as Jake. 

Just when you thought it couldn’t get any better than this, Jake pulled out of you and grabbed your waist, heaving you off the counter only to spin your around and push you down onto it, your ass up in the air.

“Sorry, need to fuck you like this.”

Back in he went - full speed, full force. The counter shook under you and you gasped when he began to thrust. His cock dragged against your walls, split you open so beautifully it felt like you were going to burst. You threw your ass back at him, clawing at the edge of the counter, eyes falling shut as you let yourself enjoy the way he drilled into you.

There was a high chance Jake was going to grow addicted to this feeling. Never had he ever had sex as good as this and perhaps this was courtesy of the potion - or maybe it was just you. You with the perfect pussy, the perfect mouth, the perfect hands. Everything about you seemed to heighten his arousal, seemed to get him closer from the edge all while pushing him even further away from it. 

He could do this for hours, fuck you until he came, spill his seed in you over and over, watch how it spilled out. God, he wanted to see your pussy stuffed with his cum so bad. Watching his cock slip in and out of you, hearing the noises you made, it was almost too much.

“You’re my perfect little hole, aren’t you? Just made to be fucked like this,” he couldn’t help himself, grabbing your hips even rougher and spitting down to make it even wetter. Not that that was really necessary. You were dripping down his cock as well as your own thighs and Jake swore he would never recover. 

“Fuck, Jake!” You cried out, hip trying desperately to move while he held you, eyes opening only to roll back as your orgasm hit you like a brutal wave.

“Shit, are you gonna come on my cock, slut?” Jake saw red as he felt your pussy spasm around him, pulling him even deeper, squeezing him for all he had, wanting to milk him dry of his load. 

And who was he to deny such a request?

“Come inside me, Jake, please, please, please!”

You had sensed his orgasm and he let out a growl, finally filling your pussy with his load just as you hit your second high right after the first. Once again, it didn’t stop, it just kept on coming, his cum landing inside you and already dripping out as he fucked both of you through your orgasms, filthy sounds filling the air next to both of your moans and groans and pleads for more. 

Jake had expected to be done after three, but no, he was still hard, and so he grabbed your wrists and held them behind your back, standing up straighter as he picked up the speed once more.

“Need another one, baby, just one more, fuck, m-maybe two, I just- fuck, I am so hard, I need to fuck you more, wanna fuck you all night, need to fuck your pussy.”

There was nothing left in his brain except for the need to come, for the need to fuck you. He was like an animal during heat, felt like he was going to explode. His cock was so incredibly sensitive, hurting even at this point, but it was addictive, you were addictive. Just the thought of not being inside of you anymore filled him with something close to agony. 

“Y-yes, fu-fuck me Jake, your cock feels so good, s-so big!”

At this point you could have taken the potion yourself judging by how you were feeling and talking. Normally, you were the one in charge, the one on top. But with Jake? You enjoyed being in his hands like this, enjoyed being used by him for his pleasure. You wanted him to fill you up, to split you open, to do with you whatever the hell he wanted. 

“God, yes, like my big cock fucking you open like that? Such a good behaved little whore, isn’t that right?” He found himself slapping your ass, and judging by your reaction that had been the exactly right thing to do. He groaned when he felt you squeeze him again, both hands back to holding your hands in place.

He lost himself in you. Lost himself in the pleasure. And you lost yourself in him and the need to have him fill you up again and again. 

His fourth orgasm made his cock soften a little. He filled you to the brim, watched the majority drip down your legs, forming a little puddle to your feet and he licked his lips, letting go of your hands and pulling out of you, turning you back around and placing you back on top of the counter. 

“Lean back,” he ordered and you did as wanted, eyes wide and pussy throbbing from the last orgasm a few seconds ago. 

You leaned back on your elbows, watching him position himself between your legs. He grabbed his cock and placed it in between your lips - to thrust in between them, cockhead repeatedly hitting your clit. You gasped, body jerking forward.

“Wanna paint your whole body with my cum, stay still.” His big hands grabbed your hips, pinning you to the counter as he began to thrust his cock over your pussy, the friction already enough to almost make him come again. 

“Mhmm, y-yes, f-feels good!” You cried and he grinned, continuing his spiel like a madman. 

“You’re so sexy, so fucking sexy, baby.” He breathed out, his brain slowly but surely coming back to him. And when he heard that little noise you apparently always made before you came (if he could trust the two orgasms from earlier), he felt himself reach the edge as well. 

Your head fell back when you felt the next orgasm hit and your pussy ached for more when his next load landed all over your stomach, even reaching as far as your tits, painting you just like he had wanted. 

The canvas was finished.

But Jake wasn’t.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, so sorry, I need to-,” his head was fuming red, and he moved back a little, just to dip his cock back into your spent pussy and you fell flat onto your back, your head hanging over the counter. 

He fucked you like a ragdoll, like a toy, like he didn’t even really acknowledge you were still there. He pressed down onto your stomach and sped up, tried to fuck you deeper. He imagined he could feel his cock through your skin, imagined he could see himself fucking you just like that. 

“S-so deep!” You cried out and he looked at you, at your body, and nodded, watching now how your tits jumped at every thrust. They were stained with his cum as well and he hoped he would never forget this image. 

“One more, promise, just one more, my perfect little fucktoy, yeah?”

His words were so filthy, so desperate and full of need, they made your pussy spasm again, made you grip him hard over and over again. 

“That’s it, fuck! Gonna come, gonna come, shit, sh-shit! Take my cum, take it, yes, yes!” He was in a spiral downwards, then back up and back down - his last orgasm hitting him like a fucking brick, yet another load landing inside your pussy - one, two, three. His cock twitched and twitched and finally began to soften. 

When he pulled out, he fell backwards, landing on the floor, his eyes wide and his ass hurting. 

The potion slowly lost its grip on him, his normal, coherent thoughts coming back all while he was getting down from his many, many highs. 

You pulled yourself up in exhaustion, your chest heaving. When you sat up straight again, you couldn’t help but chuckle at Jake on the floor. 

“Need a hand?” You asked, carefully jumping off the counter and finding that your legs were nothing but mere jelly. Quickly, you grabbed onto the edges of the surface and found your balance again.

“I- I-,” Jake began to stutter, his eyes probably the size of saucers by now. You grinned.

“You?” You raised a brow. Jake’s face turned crimson.

“I- I’m sorry, I-,”

“You’re apologizing? For what? The best sex I’ve ever had?” You snorted, “No, Jakey, no need to apologize.” 

Jake bit the inside of his cheeks. Best sex you’ve ever had? While he wanted to feel proud, he wasn’t so sure if that really had been him having sex with you or if the potion had a mind of its own. 

“Don’t worry your pretty little head,” you moved forward now, stretching your hand out for Jake to take, “the potion only strengthens what’s already there. It doesn’t change your personality, it just makes you give less fucks.”

Had you read his mind? Jake cleared his throat and nodded slowly, before taking your hand and letting you help him up. 

Only then, when he was standing so close to you again, did he realize you were still covered in his seed. He turned even redder.

“Oh, right.” You giggled, closing your eyes and once again snapping your fingers. 

Immediately, you were clean of his cum and back in your dress - which had also magically repaired itself. Jake also found himself back in his briefs and jeans, his coat safely hanging over the counter. His mouth dropped.

“You-,”

“Are an actual witch, correct, Sherlock.” You winked at him and walked back to the other side of the counter, “Now, do you still need that potion?”

Jake stared at you for a second.

“Y-yes,” he mumbled, watching as you quickly finished the preparations. He didn’t dare say anything, his heart beating at triple speed and his brain working overtime. He had just fucked you. For like… a good while. And he didn’t even have your phone number.

“There you go,” you smiled and carefully shoved the bottle with the potion over the counter, “just pour a few drops over your flowers tonight. You should already see some results in the morning.”

“Th-thanks. How much do I owe you?”

“Oh, Jakey. You already paid me enough.” You said cheekily and Jake found himself choking on his own spit.

When he walked out he regretted not asking you for your number. Or if you wanted to go on a date. 

But that night, when he got ready to put the potion to its use, he saw a little note stuck to the label he hadn’t seen before.

Tomorrow, 8 o’clock at your place. I promise I’ll bring wine that won’t make you wanna fuck me for hours. It’s a date! Also here’s my number: xxx-xxx-xxx. See you tomorrow, loverboy!

Jake found himself laughing out loud. 

And while he did his work in the garden, he thought that just because the wine wouldn’t be the reason, he sure as hell would not mind fucking you for hours at least twice every day for the rest of his life.

[for-ests]

Blood Bound: Sukuna x Reader

Pairing: Heian era Sukuna x witch concubine reader Warnings: hella plot w/ eventual smut Word count: 6,800+ Summary: Gifted to the King of Curses by your coven to produce the strongest heir, Sukuna gets more than he bargained for when he realizes you come with conditions. But once he finally gets a taste, he can't get enough. I honestly don't know what compelled me to write this. But if others enjoy I was thinking about making an actual fic!! this isn't fully flushed out yet but I hope it makes sense. This will eventually connect to my Gojo fanfic too!

Sukuna had all the concubines he could ask for, but there was one who was a big headache. You. Disrespectful and conniving, you were the only one who stood up to him. And for some reason, he allowed it. But that was because you were different from the rest. You weren't like the other pathetic waifs he was expected to entertain; you were special—a witch, a curse user from one of the most powerful covens in his territory. And you loved to remind him of it, stalking around him and nosing your way into his business but never giving in to his desires. He could have disposed of you long ago, but that would've wasted your talents. And, of course, your beauty. 

When you first arrived at the palace, you didn't want to get closer to Sukuna, you didn't even want to talk to him. Especially when you realized he was unaware of the conditions he bound himself to. But with each day that passed, you found yourself seeking him out more, with whatever attention you could get—which was usually his lingering eyes as you paraded around with the other women. Like cats and dogs, you argued with Sukuna just so he would respond to your defiance. You didn't submit to just anyone because they asked. Even though Sukuna was the King of Curses, you were still a powerful witch—and you wouldn't be demoted to just an ordinary concubine. 

You weren't just something pretty to look at. Your purpose was to continue your bloodline, to pass that magic down as your ancestors did, with another man of equal or more power. The first night where you revealed the truth to him was a night you didn't want to repeat. 

Sitting under a cherry blossom tree, Sukuna let out a growl. You had forced him to attend another garden picnic with all the concubines. 

You often did things like this intentionally, smirking at him whenever he would complain and spreading the rumors to everyone before he agreed. Even Uraume was in on it, always preparing the best foods for him at your request to soften the blow. 

Why do you have so many concubines if you don't want to spend time with them? You would mock, your underlying intentions amiss in his brain. All you did was play mind games. If you wish for an heir, shouldn't they be happy, too? A happy and healthy concubine will bear the strongest children. 

Whether you were referring to yourself or not, Sukuna was open to the idea. You were right, after all. And that's why he put up with it, partially to spend time with you, too. You always ensured you were busy whenever he thought about calling you to his room. And the few times you had, you only played Go with him and won. 

What an insufferable woman. He thought, watching you fan yourself from across the garden, twirling a lock of your hair around your finger, only glancing at him when he looked away. 

"More wine Master?" One of the concubines approached Sukuna.

"Master, would you like to try what we cooked?" Another concubine animatedly served him a plate. 

But you would bask in the sun on one of the finest cushions conquest could provide, away from the rest of the group, only participating when he requested you. 

His eyes narrowed on you once you stood to get a cup of wine. "Let Y/N serve me, this was her idea so she must be the one to deal with me," he told the others, shooing them away with the raise of his hand. 

Sukuna wasn't in the mood to have any other concubine clinging to him but you. 

As you approached, you rolled your eyes. "Don't call him Master," you said to the women as they backed away. "He doesn't deserve it." 

Sukuna smirked as you poured him some wine, his fingers grazing yours softly. "You never learn, do you?" he asked in a quiet, mocking tone so the others couldn't hear.

You didn't have much to learn, though. You knew he liked power, and you had a lot more than all of his concubines combined. You were the only woman there who had almost mastered sorcery. 

Then, a little more loudly, making everyone stop and pay attention to you, he said, "How would you address me then? Surely, you're not the kind of woman who calls your master darling, are you?" he joked mockingly while licking his lips.

Once you finished pouring his wine, you smirked to yourself, knowing that in the end, you were his favorite concubine. And in his own way, he respected you in return. 

"I would call you by your name," you replied, loud enough for the other women to hear, satisfied to hear their giggles, knowing it would rile him up further. Even if you loathed the other concubines, entertainment was welcomed as the months passed. It's not like you could just leave the castle and return to your coven whenever you pleased. 

Bending down slightly, you whispered into Sukuna's ear with a lustful drawl. "Such a title must be earned." 

As you turned around, Sukuna raised an eyebrow, a smirk on his lips as he watched you return to your cushion, another glass of wine waiting for you to devour. You always acted unbothered, but ultimately, he suspected you were. Why else wouldn't you accept the offer of being his concubine? Your relationship with him was in limbo because you craved something more. 

He sipped the wine, letting the flavor spread across his tongue. He knew you liked to defy him, and he found it quite amusing. "You're quite the bold one," Sukuna said, his voice low yet teasing. "But I assure you, Y/N, soon enough you will beg to call me Master." 

Sukuna was transfixed by your defiant behavior, knowing full well you challenged him because you knew he wouldn't lay a finger on you. He knew your coven protected you with a spell, so he couldn't physically punish you. Despite the frustration, there were still beneficial reasons why he kept you around. It took bravery to even bother with him, and he admired you for it. Perhaps you were the only woman he was genuinely interested in. 

Sukuna listened to his concubines gossiping amongst themselves as he sipped his wine, wondering how he would break his little witch in. He had already tried using his power on you, but as expected, the protection spell had kept you safe. Not that he minded; it just made the chase more amusing.

Ever since you'd been offered to him as a bargaining chip to save your coven, a day hadn't passed where he didn't think of you. When he saw you for the first time, an unquenchable flame ignited inside him. How you looked that night, emerging past the elders in a revealing black dress decorated in gold and jewels, a tiara with rubies dipping between your brows, was a sight he couldn't seem to forget. The Onryo. They called you. 

At the time, Sukuna didn't want a bride, only a concubine. But each day you tempted him, his resistance faltered. Months came and went without you in his bed, and he grew restless and irritated. You opted to tease him instead, insulting him whenever he disappeared with one of his concubines. He knew you were a prized possession; he knew it was dangerous to overstep the protection spell your coven put on you, ensuring no rules would be broken. You already promised him the strongest heir possible, but he still hadn't agreed to every condition in the pact. He wasn't ready to give up his concubines, and you knew that. 

And you didn't budge, only wishing to fulfill your duty when the time was right, for your coven and Sukuna's dynasty.

Over time, Sukuna continued to tire of the other concubines, increasingly ignoring them to the degree that his chambers remained barren for the past few months. It was bothersome, as he didn't like this feeling of… dissatisfaction. None of them excited him the way you did. None of them challenged him like you. 

It all came to a head when he caught you flirting with the palace guards. His eyes burned with frustration, and he summoned his fire, stepping forward before Uraume's sudden presence distracted him. 

"Permission to speak freely, Sukuna-Sama?" they bowed their head slightly. 

"Yes." Sukuna's tone was sharp, eyes still daggering at you, cozying up with the guards and laughing with them as he supposed you did every night when he didn't request you. The only thing he allowed you to leave for was your rituals; sometimes, they lasted all night. It made him wonder if you were fucking his men behind his back. 

A long silence passed, with only the faint echo of your laugh heard. It graded against his eardrums, hearing that another man had captured your attention, let alone make you smile. 

"I wish to remind you that Y/N is a smart woman. I would not want you to do anything in haste." 

"As if I don't know that!" Sukuna snapped, "she belongs to me, after all." 

Shaking their head, Uraume sighed. "My Lord—"

"I am aware," Sukuna interrupted. If anyone knew the truth, it was Uraume. You treated them with extra care, feeding them bits and pieces of your predicament in hopes they would reveal them to Sukuna when necessary. You weren't just playing with Uraume, though. You considered them a friend. Probably your only friend in the palace. They knew that deep within their heart, which is why they bothered to defend you. Seeing your face every day made the palace more lively. Did Sukuna even realize all that you sacrificed for him? 

"That wench of a Supreme tricked me into a binding vow." 

Tricked was a strong word. Nobody could really trick the King of Curses. Uraume knew it was his way of admitting he was weak at that moment. Meeting you for the first time, which even Uraume could admit you looked divine, ravishing, unlike any woman they'd seen before—that spectacle was what led to this entire mess. Sukuna was the one who allowed your behavior to continue. He wasn't tricked. He just wanted the chase and the power. He wanted you from the moment he saw you and was too arrogant to admit it. 

There was no way Sukuna could ever love somebody, right? It all finally made sense to Uraume at that moment. Based on your own admission, based on the fact that he hadn't taken one of his concubines to bed in months, growing more frustrated with each day that passed, only craving a presence he couldn't obtain. 

"Are you…" Uraume chose their words carefully. Sukuna was clearly jealous, but it was your job to say that word, not them. "...Considering to follow through?" 

His crimson eyes narrowed. "It has crossed my mind," he finally admitted. "But I won't be tricked by that she-demon again." 

"I speculate that if Y/N wanted to deceive you, she would have done so already." 

Sukuna let Uraume’s advice pervade. He imagined every possibility for trickery on your part but came up with nothing. You were waiting for him, not the other way around. You were already bound to him, the contract only in limbo because you witches were just as power-hungry as him and incredibly selective. They would not allow a woman from their coven to bear children with a man who also produced bastards. The magic would cease to work for that purpose alone. And that was a sacrifice you wouldn't make, even for him. Even if he was a king, even if he was a curse, the coven always played the long game. As they've done for centuries and would do again. 

"Demand that she visit my chambers when she's done being a harlot," Sukuna spat, turning his back on them and deciding to leave. 

"Sukuna-Sama," Uraume warned, glancing back to the palace gates, where you still chummed with the guards. "Are you sure?" 

Sukuna waved his hand. "My mind is made." 

They stared at their lord as he walked away, acting as if he wasn't bothered by the revelation, acting as if he didn't just spare you and his men from certain death. That was when Uraume recognized Sukuna's true feelings for you. 

However twisted they might be. 

An hour later, the kitchen door swung open, presenting you in a seductive, revealing dress. Whether Sukuna noticed or not, you always wore your best garments on nights when the moon was absent. 

Hunger twisted in your stomach as you realized how late it was and how long you'd gone without a meal. All you wanted was to steal a few snacks without anyone noticing before retreating to your chambers. 

But, for once at this hour, Uraume was chopping away at a slab of meat, some already cooking in a stew on the firewood stove. It smelled delicious, and you sighed blissfully. They would be the last person to mind if you stole a few bites, as you often did, complimenting them with a smile on your face before disappearing again. 

"Sukuna requests you visit his chambers," Uraume said, their tone leaving no room for debate. They didn't even turn around to greet you. No excitement to see you, no friendliness in their tone. It made you pause. 

"Is it a request or is it a demand?" you asked, covering your worry with a displeased smirk, rounding the stone countertop to see precisely what Uraume was preparing. It looked delicious, and your stomach grumbled with comedic timing. 

Uraume finally glanced at you, knowing that you were beside them. "I would suggest going to see him now." They nodded to the elaborately prepared tray beside them. You watched as they spooned a bowl full of cooked meat, steam billowing into the air. "He's already waited an hour." 

"Before he gets angrier?" you asked, plucking some food into your mouth. Once you swallowed, you grabbed the tray in both your hands. "Does he ever feel another way?" 

Only a slight crack in the corner of Uraume's lips signaled they weren't sending you to your death. Their eyes were serious. Even if you were their friend, Sukuna was still their King. 

"He was boiling when he saw you fraternizing with the castle guard," Uraume said, refusing to reveal anything else. "Have you no shame, Y/N?" 

You quirked an eyebrow, unable to hide your surprise. "What else am I to do to pass the time?" 

"You are bound to him, Y/N, don't forget your place. Sukuna-Sama has been generous enough. He can still kill you if he pleased." 

"Generous is a bit theatrical," you huffed, parting from Uraume after one last smile. "But thank you," you added, nodding to the food. Whatever conversation you were about to have with Sukuna might be softened once he saw that you were fetching his meal. 

The castle halls were eerily empty and quiet. There were never many people around, but it had never felt this dreadful to you before. All you could hear was the sound of your own sandals scuffing against the rug as you approached his chamber. 

The sound of your pattering knuckles filled the silence, and you quickly slid the door open and entered before receiving a reply. 

Sukuna's back was to you, his fingers grasping the balcony's edge. He didn't turn around when he heard you enter the room, but he tensed slightly. "Did I give you permission to enter my chambers?" he said curtly, his voice laced with annoyance. 

"You had requested me," you replied just as harshly. "Where have you been all night?"

"None of your concern," he said, tone cold and final. 

There was an agonizing minute of silence that passed. He didn't turn around to look at you, still avoiding having to look you in the eyes. Once he did, he wondered if he could resist the temptation. From afar, he saw what you were wearing. If he had to see it up close… an almost identical dress on the day he first met you. 

"Are you going to stand there staring at my back?" he asked irritably, still not bothering to turn around.

"If you want to be alone, so be it," you snapped, turning around and heading for the door. "I'll leave your meal on the table and thank Uraume for you." 

He turned around quickly, a scowl on his face. "You defy the simplest of orders and instructions," Sukuna muttered under his breath, his annoyance vanishing once he glimpsed the very body he was trying to resist. That damn dress. It was far too revealing. All that was missing was a crown. What a seductress you were, almost bringing the King of Curses to his knees at the very sight of you. 

He was clearly upset. Provoked that even though you purposely annoyed him, hardly followed his orders, and kept yourself and your body off limits to his desires— he always sought you out. "Come here," he ordered savagely, his hungry eyes locking with yours.

You knew when he was angry, as he usually always was. But the look in his eyes was different tonight. Was it sadness? Was it jealousy? Obeying his request, you left the food inside and walked onto the balcony. You were grateful for Uraume's hint, leading you to approach him more cautiously. 

The two of you often played board games out there when the weather was nice. Go was your favorite, and Sukuna still had yet to beat you. Perhaps he relented because he couldn't have sex with you all night, and it was the only way you'd spend time with him alone. Go was maybe the one thing you'd mastered besides magic. 

A part of you wondered if that's what he wanted, too. It had been about a week since the last time you challenged him. You watched him sit down before asking, "Would you care to play a game to release some stress, my Lord?" You added the honorific with the raise of your brows, suspecting you might actually be walking on a thin, thin line with him already. 

"I don't want to play games, witch," he grumbled impatiently, his scowl deepening at your sudden prudence. He much preferred the attitude that kept him on his toes. "Sit down," he incited, hand pointing to the spot next to him on the sofa. 

The wind was blowing briskly, making the trees surrounding the palace sway and rustle softly. The atmosphere was tense, almost dangerous, the air seeming to crackle with electricity.

"It's a beautiful night," you said, watching the branches tangle around each other in the breeze. The stars were shining bright in the absence of the moon. As you finally sat beside Sukuna, you turned to look at him. "Will you tell me what's wrong?" 

"Would it not be easier to use your magic to root through my mind instead?" he scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. What a ludicrous answer. 

There was a momentary silence. It was tense and heavy. The only sound that could be heard was the rustling of the trees. 

"What fun is there in that?" you sighed, the tease in your tone fading away with the wind. For once, you didn't come there to defy or disrespect him. For the first time, you came for comfort, to know him better. Yes, you enjoyed your life at the palace. You knew your place, but it wasn't to just be his concubine. What you really wanted was to be his Queen. But Sukuna was cruel, heartless, and malevolent. Rarely, almost never, did fragments of his true self emerge. 

"A strong powerful man like you should be able to express what you're feeling." 

"I'm in no mood for fun," he said curtly, his expression remaining cold.

Another pause, the tension in the air so dense it felt like he was physically curling his hands around your throat. 

Until finally, he heaved a frustrated sigh. "I want you to be honest with me." There was no reason for him to struggle this much with the thoughts swirling in his mind, but being in your presence often did that to him. Sharing his power was something he never wanted to do. He never expected any woman to even stand remotely close to his level of wickedness and hunger for domination. "Did you reject my proposal because of the coven or because of your wishes?" 

"What proposal?" you tilted your head, confused. His red eyes burned with emotions you didn't expect him to be capable of. 

"My proposal to you as my concubine," he said, tone hardening. 

There was a pause; the wind rustled the trees gently and seemed to echo his words. Your reply was absent, which frustrated Sukuna further. He was growing impatient, watching as your lips parted and your eyebrows furrowed. "Why must you refuse to be just a concubine?" he asked. 

"I lust for power just as you do, Sukuna, it is what is required of me," you sighed. "I cannot just be a concubine. I will not descend to the level of those lowly, moronic, women you keep around for no other reason than your twisted pleasure. They cannot give you the heir you need. To them, the title of concubine is an honor, but to me, it is an insult," you said with a bitter tone before glancing away and looking back up at the sky. Sukuna only knew pieces of your bloodline, your coven, and what the spell cast on you entailed. "And I'm not fond of sharing," a displeased, tight smile cracked across your face, hoping he wouldn't pry further. 

Sukuna narrowed his eyes and reached out to grasp your chin, turning your head so that you were facing him again. His expression was cold, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes, almost a hint of tenderness. 

"Are you saying you no longer wish me to bed other women?" he asked in a low, menacing tone, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. 

Once he released your chin, you nodded but kept your gaze glued to his. "The thought of your hands on another woman, your body against anyone's but mine makes me..." you trailed off, not wanting to overstep. You loved teasing him. You loved that you had power over the other concubines. But your defiance came from the desperation of your situation. To be handed off to the King of curses like you were nothing but a prized cattle, forced to watch as he took his other concubines to bed, enraged you. The Supreme had tricked him, leaving it up to you to convince the most evil man in the country that you deserved respect. The most rigorous challenge of all. 

Sukuna paused for a moment, considering what you just said. He then leaned close to you, his forehead almost touching yours as his crimson eyes studied your expression intently.

"There's another reason, is there not?" he said in a low voice, his words almost like a whisper. Then Sukuna smirked wickedly, his eyes gleaming with amusement as if it finally made sense to him. "Do you envy them, Y/N?" he teased, his hand reaching your waist, grasping it, and pulling you onto his lap.

You let him encircle his arms around you. It didn't matter if Sukuna was enjoying your torment. This was precisely what you expected. "It's not envy, Sukuna." you rolled your eyes, eyes flickering down to his smirk. His arms slipped around your waist tighter, causing a breathy sigh to leave your lips. The temptation was unbearable. That's why you never sat on his lap until now. Possessiveness glistened in your eyes, nostrils flaring slightly. "It makes me sick to my stomach to see you with those whores." 

Sukuna's smirk grew wider as he heard your response, his eyes filled with amusement and desire. "Then prove your worthiness," he dared in a low, seductive growl that sent shivers down your spine. "Prove to me that you deserve to be my queen," he continued, his hand going further down, his fingers slipping under your dress, gripping your inner thigh.

Just from that intimate touch underneath your clothes, your body felt like it was on fire. You wanted more so desperately, which was the cruelest curse of all. You should have slapped his hand away, but something within you yearned for him vehemently. His fingers crept closer to your pulsing core, and you couldn't pull away. For months, all you had craved was his attention. 

"Sukuna-" you warned, willing to explain it all to him, but was caught off guard when he bit down on the delicate skin of your neck. He sucked the spot roughly, his other hand creeping under your dress and to your thigh. 

"Y/N..." he murmured, his mouth still lingering on the spot, the sound of his voice low and filled with passion. Sukuna's fingers moved higher, brushing against your heat, grinning against your skin as he felt your shiver. He could easily seduce you; he was sure of it, but that wasn't what he wanted. He wanted to see you beg for him to take you to bed, and that wouldn't be easy. He wanted you to be willing and eager. He wanted you to give yourself to him. 

"Sukuna...I am not..." you began to protest, your words caught in your throat as his hands pried between your thighs, forcing your legs open wider, teasing your entrance with his fingertips.

Fuck. That was what your mind screamed at his touch. You had been so determined to beat him with twisted power plays, only to care for him in a different way than just the empowerment of your coven through an heir. You thought it would take much more convincing for Sukuna to agree to your demands and understand the repercussions. But he was worshipping your body instead, enticing you to join him in hell. 

Your yearning for him panged so harshly that it came in a sudden wave from your stomach to your core—etching a gasp from your lips. 

"Are you always this exposed underneath such revealing dresses?" he chuckled once he found you weren't wearing undergarments, pressing a finger against your clit. Jolts of electricity shot through your body, and you let out a fervid whimper. Did he know what he was getting into? Was he really considering making you his Queen? It would happen soon enough, though, for the second he impregnated you, the spell would annul every other possible heir if he didn't accept you as his only. 

Once his finger started to swirl in circles, you knew it was over. Your body was begging for him, begging for release. The allure of it all made your explanation die in your throat, and all you could choke out was, "If you take me tonight, I want all the other concubines dead." 

Sukuna chuckled wickedly at your words, the sound resonating deep in his chest and vibrating against your skin.

"Is that so?" he replied, inserting a digit inside your eager, desperate pussy. "How bold of you to give me orders, Y/N." He grinned, red eyes glinting with lust and satisfaction. "Will you deal the finishing blow?" he murmured teasingly, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear, before he pushed another finger inside. 

"Y-yes," you nodded, stuttering, eyes flickering down to the position he finally had you in across his lap. Your ruffled dress almost pushed up to your waist; legs spread, flush against his growing length as his hands teased your cunt. 

Another gasp escaped you as he began to pump his fingers, his other hand gripping your waist and forcing you to stay still. "You want me...all to yourself?" he murmured in your ear.

"Need you to myself," you whimpered, finally giving in to the temptation. 

"Need me to yourself..." he mimicked seductively, his words filled with desire. He could sense your restraint waning, your body trembling in his grasp. "You need me." He continued pumping harder, his hot breath fanning across your neck. "To be all yours..." he whispered, his own voice filling with desperation and passion. 

But then, Sukuna suddenly paused. He withdrew his hands and leaned back into the sofa. He needed a second to process what was happening. How frustrating it was to be under your spell. It hardly took anything for you to seduce him; he was all over you, getting off on your pleasure and not his. It was strange how willing he was to submit to your desires. Was it some sort of trick? 

"What?" you whimpered at his withdrawal, opening your eyes to gaze at him. Without his touch, you felt cold. Shifting around in his lap, you faced him. 

"Prove your love for me, Y/N," he demanded, his eyes intense as he stared at you, the weight of his request hanging heavy between the two of you. "Tell me," he added, leaning forward to gently take your lips with his. Your eyes widened, but you kissed him back, gripping his shoulders to steady yourself, the need for all of him panging deeper. "How far are you willing to go to show me your devotion?" he pulled away to breathe, hot breath caressing your face.

Love…devotion… Have you not already proved it? 

"Anything," you whispered against his lips, grasping his wrists and moving them to the back of your gown. Once he loosened the knot, your dress fell around your shoulders. You tugged the lace down yourself, revealing your breasts to him for the first time. "My power will be yours to wield." 

Sukuna's eyes burned as they drank in your body. How perfect you were, the right amount of beauty and insanity. He admired you in silence, eyes studying the perk of your breasts before his expression turned more serious. One more question, and he would take you. Only if you answered right, though. 

"I will need you to give your blood and body to me, an offering that permanently binds your life to mine," he said, a chill settling over the air. You had already begged, and now he wanted you to prove your loyalty.

"Are you willing to pay that price?" he asked before his mouth pressed gently against your collarbone, then down to the middle of your breasts. Once he lifted his head, he searched your eyes for any hint of hesitation. Just a pause of uncertainty from him made you smile, revealing that he actually cared, that he was solemn and somewhat apprehensive.

But, you had none, already understanding this action would be forever, for eternity, transcending time and any powers you could comprehend. Powers that had yet to even manifest.

You were willing, you were eager.

"I thought it was given." You stared deeply into his eyes. "I am no stranger to binding vows, my King." 

Sukuna nodded, a small smile forming on his face. "Very well then, Y/N," he said, his voice low and firm. "It's settled. From this day forward, you'll be my Queen and I'll be your King. Nobody else will dare to defy your wishes except me," he concluded with finality, leaning forward to press his forehead against yours, all four of his hands coming to cup your cheeks. Your heart swelled with pride as he revealed his true form to you. 

In acceptance, you kissed him harshly before reaching up to pull out the hairpin he gifted you the first day you arrived at the palace. With your hair cascading down your bare shoulders, you revealed the hidden blade inside and swiped it across your finger. "My life is yours, Sukuna," you promised. 

Sukuna watched as a small cut appeared on your finger, blood welling up quickly at the shallow wound. He grasped your hand, bringing your finger to his lips and running his tongue along the edge of the cut. Then he placed your finger in his mouth, sucking on it lightly, his tongue teasing the sensitive skin, tasting the metallic tang of your blood.

When the cut had closed, Sukuna pulled your finger out of his mouth, his crimson eyes fixed on yours. "All mine," he whispered, his voice low and sultry.

Taking the hairpin from you, he swiped over his own thumb, deeper than you had. Your eyes were wide in astonishment as he pushed his bleeding thumb into your mouth, sealing the bond he requested. You sucked, eyelashes fluttering, waiting until the cut closed. 

The King of Curses was now yours, completely. 

"Now, you can have me any way you'd like," you whispered, eyes darkening with lust and excitement. "And afterward, we can go on a killing spree." 

A fervent need flared in his eyes as you spoke, your voice dripping with desire. "You are a dangerous woman, my future Queen," he murmured, his voice gravelly as he stared down at you, a smirk playing on his lips. But it was clear that he was just as aroused as you were, his body tense with need. "I cannot say no to you when you look at me like that."

In the next breath, Sukuna was all over you. His mouth latched onto your breast while the other pinched your nipple. All you could do was hold his face in your hands, moaning as you watched him prepare your body for his length. Desire pooled lower and lower in your abdomen, and all you could do was sway your hips for release, remembering what his fingers felt like inside of you. 

"Can't wait any longer," Sukuna grunted, swirling his tongue across your chest and up the side of your neck before taking your lips with his once again. The kiss was deep, and his tongue dominated your mouth, claiming it without protest. Breaking away for air, a strand of saliva connected your lips to his, the heat and desperation of your emotions were overwhelmingly noticeable. 

"Why don't you just ride me now," he ripped your dress off in a swift movement, etching a gasp from you. "Since you're so desperate for my cock." 

"Y-Yes, Sukuna." Your voice shook from the trepidation and pact you made with him. It was as if you sensed the change, felt your bond to him solidify. Wobbly, you stood up from his lap as he pulled his pants off, kicking them down to his ankles. He was bigger than you imagined, so long and thick that you wondered if you could even take him. But, you were determined, you needed him, craved him, and now you were forever his. 

Sukuna watched your eyes widen as his cock sprang free. All he could do was smirk, especially when he could smell your arousal. "You can take it, Y/N," he encouraged. "You have to take it now." 

You were engorged, dripping, swollen, all for him—from the thought of consummating your pact to him on the balcony, hopefully where everyone could hear you cry his name. He was unable to take his eyes off you as you sat back down on his lap, positioning his cock at your entrance. 

A whimper of elation escaped your lips as you sat upon him, slowly, letting yourself sink down on his throbbing cock, feeling the length stretch your walls until it was impossible to go further. Watching you struggle against him made him grunt with satisfaction. Your pussy felt too good, a prize he'd been pining over for months. The best he ever had and will only have from that night onward. 

Taking your time, your entire body erupted with pleasure as you began to bounce on his cock. It was vivifying; every whimper you let out only fueled his desire further. Your pussy was pulsing erratically, so wet and welcoming for him, but you weren't going fast enough. What Sukuna really wanted to do was fuck you senseless, claim each and every inch of your body. After all, you had made him wait long enough. 

A low, possessive growl rumbled from his chest as he stood up from the sofa, gathering you in his arms with his cock still sheathed inside you. He brought you inside but left the door open, laying you down on the futon. Sukuna let you adjust to the position, let you squeeze against his cock, humming as your legs wrapped around his waist. "Tell me who you belong to," he demanded, staring down at you with a feral gleam in his crimson eyes. 

Nodding obediently, you whimpered, "You, Master." Hardly able to reply before he pulled his cock all the way out and then slammed it back in, burying himself deep inside your pussy, a groan of ecstasy leaving his lips at the way your walls coddled him so tightly, so perfectly, like you were made just for him. 

Crying out, you were a stuttering mess as he pounded into you over and over again, to the point where you swore you could see stars. Sukuna was huge, fucking you until your moans were mixing with his, the sound of your pussy squelching, taking him fully until he was balls deep, causing a devilish grin to spread across his face. 

He was consuming you, feeling his cock twitch inside of you as he glimpsed your breasts bouncing wildly underneath him. You felt too good, heavenly, the best he'd ever had. 

"M-Master!" you cried, climbing higher and higher, your walls constricting, building. "I can't take it—ah—yes!" you choked out, unable to control yourself from the relentless pace, causing you to orgasm all over his unyielding cock.

He smirked, satisfied at how quickly he could make you unravel. "How am I making you feel?" He asked, not slowing his pace or relenting, helping you ride out your high before he was going to throw you into another body-shaking orgasm. 

"Euphoric," you sobbed, tears clouding your vision, the sound of his skin slapping against your now-drenched pussy causing blood to pound louder in your ears. You could barely breathe, completely cock drunk and fucked-out. 

"Since you have arrived, you wanted this, didn't you?" Sukuna grunted, glimpsing the look of intoxication on your face. "I wanted to fill you up until you cry, you wretched creature." 

His sensuality was music to your ears, and all you could do was moan, nodding with parted lips, body rocking back and forth against his relentless pace. 

Your beauty enraptured Sukuna. How well and eager you took his length. "M'gonna breed you until you can't speak with that wicked tongue, forcing me to wait all this time to claim you." 

"Please S-Kuna, please," you whimpered, grasping onto his arms that caged you underneath him for support. You were unraveling in his grip, and he couldn't be more satisfied. "It's too much!" 

"Take it," he groaned an order, ramming into you over and over again. Your back arched against the bed as Sukuna hoisted your legs up higher around his waist, your ass cupped in both of his hands, thrusting right into your already inflamed g-spot.  

All you could feel was him; all you could think about was him. Opening your eyes, you saw his eyes narrowed, determination in his expression. He looked so handsome above you, focused on ruining your body for his pleasure. He was finally all yours. And the memory of it caused the pressure in your abdomen to tighten once again. 

“Fuck-oh-Sukuna!” Another cry was loudly called into the night, as you came again. It was hard. Violent. Sukuna watched as your entire body shuddered, your legs trembling as you squirted against him. You couldn't stop it; you couldn't stop your moans. 

At your quick and vocal release, Sukuna found himself unable to breathe, unable to even mutter a word as he plunged into euphoria, releasing his load into your sanctified cunt just seconds after you finished for the second time. 

Panting heavily, your legs dropped from his waist. You gazed up at your forever lover with rapture in your eyes, satisfaction pulling at your lips. When he pulled out, his load started to leak from your core. 

He simpered, admiring how beautiful you were like this, a smile on your face, skin glistening with sweat, his cum painting your pussy alabaster. 

Some of it started to leak out, but Sukuna would not let it go to waste. He leaned down to your pussy, flicking his tongue out to force it back inside, holding it until you were shaking again.

Once he was satisfied, he lifted his head between your legs, chin resting against your abdomen. The part of you that panged for his attention every night for eternity, that yearned every second to be like this, to see him so submissive between your thighs.

What mattered was his promise, an utterance that had no bounds, not even blood. No amount of sorcery could stop either of you. "I'm gonna breed you like that every night until your belly is swollen with my heir." 

That promise you knew he intended to keep, until the bounds of death were unshackled, and you came face to face with infinity.

[vigilante24ish]

🌙 Moon Phases 🌙

Agatha Harkness X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1269

Chapter 30:

You took a deep breath, not wishing to go further down that particular memory. It was still not a happy thing, and you would be lying if you said it didn't affect you from time to time.

Wishing to forget, you chose to stand just as you felt Rio even closer to you. She did love invading your personal space, often choosing to do that when you had your back turned; making your heart beat faster.

For you could sense her and the danger coming with her. Your body reacted with adrenaline and excitement, and a part of your subconscious yearned for her hard touch when you least expected it.

Controlling your emotions and not letting them push you towards a quick way to forget, you turned to face her.

Once again, you stood merely a breath away. Invisible waves of power radiating from both of you, clashing and mixing. The red full moon casted its light on your faces, one side brighter than the other; the perfect duality.

Rio initiated the first move, her fingers gently tucking a strand behind your ear. Her long nails carefully caressed your skin at the same time, drawing invisible lines that made you shiver and part your lips faintly.

She eyed them carefully but did not move for the claim, not yet. "You shouldn't be here, baby girl," she repeated like she had done back then in the woods. "It's not too late to leave,"

Her words managed to bypass the mixing emotions that she was causing you with her touch, and you focused on what she was saying. "We both know I can't leave the Road," you reminded her. "Not unless I am dead... and I doubt you are looking forward to that."

Rio smirked at your words.

She had taken an interest in you, a liking. You were not like Agatha.... no, your case was different yet equally compelling. You were unique, one of a kind, and she would be a fool to just let you go like that; to let you slip through her fingers.

"See, you know me too well." she finally commented after staring at you with a darker, more lustful look. Her hand never stopped caressing your skin. Her face then shifted to a more serious one. "You can get out of here, I can help you,"

You were surprised by her determination to get you out, her stubbornness not to let you continue down the path. Partially, you thought she was just being the weird, possessive, caring woman you had come to know her... but not entirely.

A little voice in the back of your mind kept suspecting that Rio had other plans... other plans for Agatha, considering their not so good terms of their former relationship. And if that was the case, she wanted you out because you would be a bigger obstacle than she wanted.

"What about Agatha?" You asked innocently, hiding your suspicions and thoughts from her sharp gaze.

"This is her fight, not yours. She has no choice."

"But I do," you countered and took a deep breath. "And I choose to stand with her until the very end of my life."

Something flashed into her eyes, and the hand that was so gently caressing your skin chose to attack it all the same. One moment, you were fighting goosebumps from showing up, and the next, you found her hand wrapped around her neck; threatening to block your air intake.

Rio pulled you closer that way, and you stared at her with wide eyes at the manhandling, one hand grabbing her wrist in a futile attempt to free your neck.

The Green Witch seemed to take inner joy and pleasure in that wide eye doe look you were giving her, the feeling of your beating pulse beneath her fingers making her high; temptations filling her mind and was so close in squeezing just a tad more.

"And Agatha thinks you are not such a witch," she commented, remembering how certain Agatha was for you.

How certain she was you would not be able to help them form the three witch coven. Yet if she could hear you know, if she could see what Rio saw... she would change her mind.

"What... what are you talking about?" You managed to ask, trying to ignore any feelings pooling in your body from the manhandling but also not let panic arise within you by the fact that you were chocked.

Rio offered a toothy grin. "Nothing," she replied as enigmatic as ever. She then pulled you closer and stole a quick, needy kiss.

Your eyes were wide at the gesture, but soon, your emotions got the best of you. The tide was high, the waves crashing wildly against the shore, and it was impossible to try and escape them as they took you with them.

And so, you closed your eyes and returned the kiss; feeling how addictive her lips felt and how oddly nice and Earthly they felt against yours.

Rio seemed to approve your willingness to follow as she pressed you more against her and attacked your lips. Her teeth bit and pulled your lower lip with hunger, satisfied only when you both felt the familiar metallic sensation of blood in your mouths.

She didn't let you pull back until she was satisfied, and only when she wished it did she let you get for some air. She released your neck and watched with satisfaction at your bleeding lip and the faint red marking of fingers against your pale skin.

You panted, staring at her with wide eyes, and you subconsciously brought a finger to your lips; only to see the bright red colour of your blood staining it.

"You should go now" she said, acting as if she had not just devoured you a second go; or the fact that she felt tempted to take you on those floor pillows with the body of Alice as a spectator.

"Why?" You found the courage to ask, your brain still trying to recover from what had just happened.

"I fear your duty as Agatha's White Knight is calling you," she replied enigmatically once again. "Oh, one more thing,"

Before you could ask her or even take a step towards the exit, you saw her licking her index finger and then drug it above your lips; specifically above her teeth wound on you.

Her magic worked fast, healing the wound as the finger passed above it, and only then did she pull back. She smirked and motioned with her hand in a 'shoo' motion, a sign it was time for you to go.

You had so many questions, so many things you wanted to say or ask, but you didn't. Rembering Agatha, you turned and hurriedly towards the exit; glancing at Rio one last time above your shoulder before you climbed the wooden ladder.

The missing coven members...

Once out, you took a moment to breathe deeply the fresh air, and you moved further down the path; expecting to find the others waiting, hopefully.

However, you came to a halt when you didn't find them. Instead, you only found Teen standing alone, a faint blue glow still visible in his hands.

He sensed you, and as he turned, you took notice of a crown that had formed on his head and that look in his eyes.

The mising Agatha...

Teen with magic...

Immediately, you connected the dots, and before he could try anything, whether to attack or talk to you, you moved in first; white magic coming alive as your temper flared.

Rio's words....

Chapter 31

[slasherscream]

I love your writing! And you just get my craziness and character obsessions. I was thinking what would happen if reader had a bruise cheek or lip, and refuse to tell them what happen. Then they discover that the reader was the one who beat the shit out of someone for saying something about their partner, and how proud yet pissed off they will be. I’m think Crazy Ass Girls Gang, need more possessive and protective FMC. Thank you!

warnings: yandere behavior - YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED

Tiffany Valentine - Tricks you into thinking she’s gonna be normal about it. She purses her lips when you won’t tell her anything, but quietly rushes off to get the first-aid kit. WATCH OUT! You have just activated a trap card: emotional manipulation. Her most powerful weapon. She’ll silently and dotingly take care of you. Disinfectant. Gentle Hands. Careful bandaging. Petulant silence. Painkillers lovingly dropped in your hand. Big sad eyes staring up at you. When you inevitably break and tell her what happened she could melt! She does melt, straight into your arms. You’re gonna be covered in lipstick by the time she’s through with you. Her hero. Don’t worry, she’ll help you clean up… eventually. Later, you’ll have to help her clean up too. It was so romantic of you to fight for her honor…. But she'd never let someone live after they hurt you, silly.

Jordan Li - Won’t drop the line of questioning until you’re damn near ready to fight her too. She hates that you’re hurt. She loves that you wanted to defend her. Jordan gets a lot of criticism, sometimes it seems never ending. The fact that you feel so strongly about protecting her, not because you think she can’t fight her own battles… but because she shouldn’t have to do it all alone? It means a lot. Still, she doesn’t want you getting into fights. Let alone fights over her. It doesn’t matter how badly you hurt the other person. If there are marks on you Jordan is going to go find them for round two. “You like to put hands on people?” Words spoken seconds before disaster (she’s ignoring the fact that you started the fight. Jordan could give a shit about semantics.)

Nancy Downs - Don’t wanna tell her? Cool! Get ready to experience her favorite couple’s activity besides shoplifting: abusing your coven bond to read your mind! Hooray! It will hurt badly. Because Nancy always makes it hurt when you keep her out on purpose, or hide things from her (or when she thinks you’re doing that.) But don’t worry, after she realizes how sweet you really were, she’ll make you feel all better. Cooing over you as much as she ever allows herself to coo. Cleaning your cuts. Healing you with her magic. Trying to ease the fever that always comes whenever she uses your bond in a way she shouldn’t. She thinks you’re the stupidest, sweetest thing. You’re witches. You don’t have to use your fists anymore to win fights. She leaves you with the coven and goes to enact a witch’s vengeance on whoever dared to lay a finger on you. 

Jennifer Check - You’ll try not to tell her but she immediately starts making such wild accusations you have to just come out and admit to why you’re injured. “I can smell someone on you. If you wanted to get beat up to get your rocks off you should’ve just told me, I’d happily beat the shit out of you.” Start talking quickly! She looks like she’s about to start fulfilling that nonexistent wish now. Once you tell her she has to suppress a smile. She’s a demon. She doesn’t need you playing knight in shining armor over what some jealous, mouth-breathing, loser is saying about her… but, it’s kinda hot that you did. She’ll show you just how hot she thinks it is. Then you two are gonna take a nice little drive, and you’re gonna point out the jackass who put bruises on you. She’ll fuck you again after she’s full. “Thanks for finding my next meal, baby.” 

Victoria Neuman - Victoria expects you to have better self control than this. Not telling her what happened isn’t an option. Ever. The look on her face when you first try and insist that nothing happened is enough for you to quietly admit you got into a fight. Her blood pressure sky-rockets. You two have an image to maintain. You’re her spouse. She has enough problems as it is. She’s thinking of viral videos, nightly news, seedy gossip magazines doing think-pieces: do we really want this person standing behind the president as first spouse? When you tell her you fought one of the Boys for trying to convince you she’s a monster? Well…. She goes a little softer. Victoria will pull you into the circle of her arms and thank you for being so loyal to her. She means it from the bottom of her heart. She’s also dreaming of the day she can pop their fucking heads. Touching you. Talking to you. Trying to turn you against her… they’ve crossed her last line. 

Carrie White - The moment she sees you she’s in hysterics: “Oh, Angel, what happened?!” You’re really gonna sit there and not tell her anything? She’s worked herself into an anxiety attack within seconds. She can hardly open the first aid kit, she’s shaking so bad. The sound of your voice is always so soothing for her that you’ll start telling her the story just to have something to say. She listens quietly while she cleans you up. You’ll have to pull her into your lap before long, and kiss her gently. You’re all she has in the world and it scares her to death to think of you putting yourself in unnecessary danger. You’ll fall asleep curled into each other’s arms. You whisper soft reassurances: “Nothing’s gonna happen to me / I’ll always be here.” Carrie tries her best to listen. You’ll wake up alone, but wander downstairs just as Carrie walks through the front door. She wanted to get her knight in shining armor some breakfast from your favorite diner down the street. She watches you eat with a big smile, and thinks about how she’ll have to burn those clothes in the trunk of the car. She couldn't risk them trying to hurt you again.

Ginger Fitzgerald - Don’t piss her off. If you don’t tell her exactly who touched you she’ll rip the entire city apart. Women, children, men, everyone. Anyone. “Do you want me to do that? Huh, baby? Is that what you want me to do?” No? Then start talking. She won’t be able to see through the blood-lust long enough to take care of you. As soon as you say a name Ginger’s out the door. She’ll only return once she’s thoroughly covered in viscera and gore. She’s still dripping with it when she crawls into bed with you, smearing the blood across your body. She’ll lick at any injury you have, until they’re clean and closed, your skin smooth and unblemished. She’s the only thing that can leave marks on you. She’ll kill anything else that tries. “You don’t have to lift a finger for me, baby. If you want someone hurt, I’ll do it. I’ll do anything for you.” Just run your fingers through her hair and try not to cringe as your fingertips get stained red. 

Patricia (Split) - She’s devastated by the state you come home in after she allows you to go out on a walk all by yourself for the first time since you were…. taken. You’d been so good for her. So obedient. So sweet. She wanted to reward you. And now your eye is starting to bruise, and your clothes are all askew, and your knuckles are swollen. Her calm demeanor cracks, and it’s a struggle to stay in the light. She takes deep breaths, centers herself. None of the others are what you need, right now. You need her. She strips you down, runs you a bath, won’t even let you hold the washcloth. It’s only as she’s patting you dry that she can force out words, finally: “What happened to you, sweet thing, hmm?” The guilt nearly brings her to tears. Months of keeping you close and look at what just a pinch of negligence has done to you… You try to assuage her guilt. You tell her you ran into a neighbor, who’d seen the two of you out together once Patricia trusted you enough to accompany her for little things like grocery trips. You say it’s your fault you came back to her in this condition. That you just couldn’t stand the vile things they said about her. Her face drops into an expression you’ve never seen. It’s gone in an instant, replaced by that comforting, ever present smile she wears for you. She takes you by the chin and kisses your forehead: “My little sweet thing. Playing knight, are you?” You had her love before. Tentatively, you had something like trust. Now Patricia trusts you completely. Even so, you won’t be going out alone again. Patricia trusts you. But it’s clear she can’t trust the world to be gentle with you. Don’t worry, though. All you need to do is ask, when you want to feel the sun on your face. You never see that neighbor again, no matter what time of day you and Patricia go walking.

A/N: thank you!!! we need more batshit crazy women with something wrong with them! Batshit crazy women with something wrong with them unite! if you enjoyed these headcanons consider reblogging, leaving a reply, or an anon! a writer's fuel is engagement. Xoxoxo

[archibaldtuttle]

Alien : Romulus - a 7/10 reason to stop making Alien films

This review will be spoiler-free

When I came out of the theater yesterday, after having gone through a viewing of Alien Romulus, I caught myself agreeing with my friends - this was pretty good!

And I am beyond poisoned about the Alien franchise since Ridley Scott got his grubby paws all over it with Prometheus. The only reason I made the effort to move my ass to the theater to see this one was because he wasn't directing (and also I didn't have to pay for it) (thanks sib).

I knew Alvarez from two of his previous films, the 2013 remake of Evil Dead and Don't Breathe. I am pretty mixed on both - they demonstrate solid filmmaking abilities and (in the case of Evil Dead), a deep respect for franchises he's adding to. However they are also a little heavy on the jumpscares for my taste, and in the case of Don't Breathe I just can't praise the film without having to mention that the third act twist is gross in an entirely unnecessary, shock-value way, that does nothing for the film thematically.

That did give me some hope for Romulus however, because that third act twist told me Alvarez likes talking about rape and impregnation. And contrary to Don't Breathe... that's right at home in Alien.

So what about the film then? It's good. Solid premise, I like that we're finally, finally, seven films in, seeing the planet-side society that births all those rundown spaceships. Good pair of main characters with on one side a demonstrably resourceful Rain and on the other a very nuanced look at the franchise's synthetics with Andy. The others are more forgettable but I can't blame that too much on the film - they're well characterized in a few short scenes and that's all I can expect really. The build-up is solid, the various ticking clocks and sources of tensions well established.

What I find particularly notable is the really good setpieces and the use of facehuggers in a way I've wanted to see for a long time. Very good physical effects supplemented by good to ok-ish CGI. The writing is very heavy-handed - I wish more people looked at what O'Bannon did with exposition before they write their own Alien scripts. I do give credit to Alvarez and his co-writer Sayagues for the cool concepts explored and the way they thread Andy's character exploration through them.

The editing is mostly blameless - I wouldn't call it great or even that good, especially with how hectic it gets during some more action-ey scenes, but you can tell Roberts isn't specialized or even used to horror films. I guess he took from his experience on Pressure which would explain a lot... The score is really good, one of the highlights of the film in my opinion - I've liked almost all I've heard from Wallfisch so I wasn't surprised to find out he did this one.

So why did I give this review a very baitey title. It became clear as I was watching the fourth, then the inevitable fifth act unfold, that we were, collectively, scraping the barrel on what can be done with Alien. Prometheus and Covenant, beyond the fact that they were garbage movies, were already trying desperately to find new things to do with the concept. Romulus succeeded, for the most part, in finding new ways to twist it into something interesting, something we hadn't seen before (or at least not entirely). And I'm pretty sure that's it.

I don't want more directors to spend months racking their brains to try and find three or more scene setups that haven't already been done in seven main films, two AVP films and countless video games, in order to string them together into a coherent 2 and a half hour flick. I don't think it's impossible, Alvarez clearly demonstrated that he could do it and I'm pretty sure other people could. But why waste so much time, talent and energy on a series that objectively does not need expanding upon?

I know why, it's because the current studio system is allergic to anything that doesn't have brand recognition. But I think it's sad. And I think it would be a lot more gracious to put an end to a franchise after a pretty good film that did all it could to honor its predecessors rather than try to keep squeezing more out of it until it turns into the horror version of Star Wars.

[johnwickb1tsch]

The Girl Next Door ~ 2

A Constantine x Reader fic based on this imagine. Part 1

Summary: John Constantine has a crush on you. He wasn’t going to do anything about it though, until you strong arm him into coming over for dinner. Little do you know, this paints a target on your back for the local vampire coven… Rating: Explicit, NSFW, but no dead doves...😮 Note: I got Constantine on my brain, y'all! 😆 I write about vampire hunters all the time, but never from the vampire perspective. This was new. I hope you enjoy!🧡

2. whoever drinks my blood has eternal life

In the end, he was too late.

Oh, he killed them all, wiping out the entire coven with his magical holy shotgun, and a handy spell that basically burned the remaining undead to a crisp around you.

But you were already half dead, drained and forced to drink their blood in kind.

You were well on your way to becoming one of the Damned.

John knew this, as he cradled your cold body in his arms, carrying you like a bride to the cab outside the warehouse. He knew it as he held you close in the backseat, reciting ancient prayers over your fevered brow, hoping just this once God might grant him a good miracle, and not forsake one of his children just because of an unlucky twist of fate.

Your only crime, as far as he knew, had been extending the mercy of your kindness towards him, and that should not have earned you this.

He barely thanked Chas for a job well done, carrying you bridal style up the stairs of your apartment building. Rather than return you to your bed, he brings you to his. He doesn’t know if the vampire who you must have inadvertently invited into your home died that night, and all his holy weapons are at hand in his own space.

He lays you down in his bed, wishing he’d washed his sheets more recently for you. He wishes a lot of things, in the interim hours that follow.

He can tell that his incantations are not touching the dark magic that is taking hold of you, and he knows that he should just put an end to it here and now. You are damned, and there’s no going back, and who knows what chaos you will reap with your new thirst when you wake?

He can’t bring himself to do it.

Looking down at you, huddled in a ball, trembling as your body is dying and remaking itself anew—he falls to his knees to talk to God, though his words aren’t exactly a prayer. “Our father, who art in heaven…fuck you. I hope you're happy, asshole. Another innocent who you should have protected, fucked over by your stupid games. Why? Why is it always the good ones? I hate you. Amen.”

He takes your hand in his, and only because you are practically unconscious in the fever-pitch of your transformation, does he let his eyes fill with silent tears.

One more soul he was too late to save.

One more weight upon his conscience.

He cries for you. For himself. For the impossible odds God and the Devil pit against humans, then punish them when they're just not up to the task. Flesh is weak, but They made you this way. None of it is fair.

Constantine has never actually been present at a Turning. He doesn’t know how long it will take, or how you’ll act when you come out of it. He has crosses and holy water to keep you in line if he has to…or maybe you’ll rip out his throat, and he will absolutely deserve it after what he let happen to you.

He wonders how the vampires knew about you. Did they watch through the window from some impossible perch, as you made love? Maybe he would never admit it out loud, but that was what that merciful night together had felt like, with you.

This was a hell of a reminder, as to why he couldn’t ever let anyone get close.

It never ended well.

Fully clothed, shoes and all, he spoons your smaller body with his arm around your waist, and waits.

***

When at last you wake, the first thing you are aware of is a heartbeat, right next to you. Behind you. Pressed against you. You hear it like a drum, thundering in your ears. There is a grinding pain in your belly. You are so hungry.

You do not recognize your surroundings, or the bed you lay in. A heavy arm is draped over your waist. You study the large hand upon the sheets, long fingered, veiny. Maybe you know that hand.

Slowly you turn, to find John Constantine beside you. He looks up at your through hooded dark eyes. He was dozing, but no longer.

“Y/n?”

You take a deep breath, and the smells that hit you: his aftershave, sweat, deodorant, dirty sheets, scotch whisky in the kitchen. Old Chinese food. But most of all, you can smell his blood, and it is the sweetest thing you’ve ever smelled.

You lean towards him, mouth open, hands reaching.

You don’t know that your incisors have lengthened to deadly little points.

Casually, John holds up a little crucifix between you. You feel it like a hand pressing back against you, and instinctively you flinch.

What is going on with you?

“John?”

You feel something long brush your lip, and you reach up to touch your teeth, finding the sharp points. Your eyes go half-dollar round as you nearly cut yourself with the tip of one.

“What happened to me?”

He sighs, and there is so much weight and sorrow in that one exhalation of air.

“I’m sorry, y/n.”

“John?” The panic in your voice starts to rise.

“Shh. Don’t get excited. It won’t be good.”

A rampaging new vampire was the last thing he needed on his hands.

“Those things took me,” you whisper, your hand covering your mouth. You start to remember what happened, those creeps who snatched you from your apartment, the impossible things you saw. They were monsters. Vampires. Things you only thought existed in folklore, books, bad B movies. And they’d told you a little about John Constantine too. That he was some sort of demon hunter, crazy as that fucking sounded, who clearly they wished to do harm to.

“Yeah.” 

“They took me,” you repeat with emphasis, still trying to understand.  

A longer pause, pregnant with lots of words you sense he doesn’t quite know how to say.

Again, he settles for, “Yeah.” 

“Why?” 

“I guess…they thought that you mean something to me.” 

After everything that happened, this hits you like a knife between the ribs, a long sharp blade aimed right for your heart.

“Do I not?” 

“Come on, I didn't mean it like that.” 

Yes he did, and you realize... that maybe he's just like all the others. 

At least he'd warned you. 

You just...had hoped, anyway, like the stupid little romantic you are. 

You look down, unable to meet his eyes. 

You kind of want to cry, but you're not even sure you can anymore. 

“I came for you as soon as I knew,” he says quietly, not liking this at all.

You nod, your lip quivering.

“What's going to happen to me?” 

The haunted way he looks at you rends your heart in two.

“We'll…figure it out.” 

“I'm hungry...I think.”

He nods gravely. 

“I was afraid of that.”

“What am I going to do?” 

“I'll...try to help you.”

Your eyes go to his throat again. The thought should be gross, but...you just feel hunger pangs, instead—and a confusing wave of desire.

He notices the focus of your attention, and looks uneasy about it. Your eyes have started to glow.

“Why don't we start with the wrist?” he deadpans, not enthused about your untried razor-sharp fangs in his throat.

You nod shakily, tears in your eyes. “I'm sorry,” you say. 

There's a flicker in John's soulful brown eyes, and though he says nothing, you feel his guilt as though it's your own. You feel it crawling over your skin, and it scares you. 

What is happening to you? 

“Come on,” he says gruffly. “Let's get this over with.” 

You've seen the movies, and you’re not a total idiot. But the thought of actually...biting him? And drinking his blood? It freaks you out, ok, even if every cell in your body is singing out for you to swallow him down. The smell of him. You'd thought it was intoxicating before. Aftershave, spice, and cigarette smoke. The smoke was good only because it ticked some deep buried memory box in your subconscious. But now...it’s like you can sense the strength of his very soul, in the smell of his blood, and you know he will nourish you. 

These thoughts come to you unbidden, and you don't even really know what they mean. Just... that they are unequivocally true.

You take his wrist, the blue veins there seeming to dance for your new improved vampire vision, as though you can see the blood pumping within them.

This is so fucking weird.

“You’re going to be really strong now,” he cautions you. Then, the corner of his mouth ticks. “So be gentle with me.”

Your eyebrows raise at the thought that you could actually hurt him. This big, strong man who threw you around not so long ago like you were just a doll. You’d loved that, truth be told. The memory is so sweet that it almost makes you want to cry again.

“I don’t know if I can do this.”

“You should do it now,” he says. “Because you’re just going to get hungrier, and young vampires when they’re hungry are at their most dangerous. I’d hate to have to—”

He cuts himself off before finishing that thought. Your eyes drift to his nightstand, the holy water, crucifixes, and a broom handle piece that has been sharpened into a nice neat stake. Just in case he has to shove it through your heart.

“Could you do that to me?” you ask quietly before you can stop yourself, still staring at the stake.

“I don’t want to find out,” he deflects. “So come on. Pull up your big girl panties.”

You glare at him, taking his wrist again. “I think I have a right to be freaked out about this.”

“Sure, but it is what it is,” he fires back unkindly. “You’re a vampire now. You have to drink blood to survive, and you’re Damned. Welcome to the club.”

You frown at him, your eyes flashing dangerously. You notice him tense, his attention flicking over to the stake on the bedside.

“You’re afraid of me now,” you marvel. 

“A little, yeah.”

“And I should be afraid of you? They told me what you are.”

“Let’s agree to have a healthy respect of one another, alright?”

You sit quietly, contemplating him. With his wrist in your grasp you can feel the thump thump of his pulse through your entire body, like bumping bass out of a speaker. It is distracting, and as you think about what you must do a warmth rises in you, a tingling rush of power that spreads from your fingers into his arm. It makes him shudder, his pupils suddenly blown wide with desire.

This feels good. Better than the fear, although you’re ashamed to admit, that had been delicious too.

You don’t know how you’re doing any of this. It’s just happening, and you let your new instinct take you, straddling his narrow hips to find his burgeoning erection straining against his slacks. You are still wearing the sundress those creatures took you in, and nothing but the thin cotton of your panties barricades the space between you and him.

He is so handsome, and strong. His blood smells so strong, and it fills you with an aching desire, wetness flooding between your legs. Suddenly the desire to bite him while he is inside you grips you like an iron fist, some ancient knowledge of arcane pleasure pulsing through your veins. You blink, the urge receding only slightly, and you do not know it but your eyes glow like coals. It’s strange, how your body feels cold, except where your skin is touching his. Your points of contact are almost searing, in comparison.

“Y/n…”

“What?” you taunt him. “You don’t want me now that I’m a monster?”

You can still hardly believe this is really happening to you.

“I think you can feel that’s not the case.”

Again, you sense his fear, cloyingly sweet upon your tongue. You like it, and that is the thing that brings you back to yourself. Wanting anyone to be afraid of you is so opposite your true nature that it shocks you.

“Fuck. I’m sorry,” you apologize again, squeezing your eyes closed.

“It’s alright,” he says in that deep voice of his.

It’s not. It’s really not.

“Just…can we get this over with, please?”

“Jesus Christ.”

“He’s not going to help you now, believe me. Just…go slow, ok? Don’t bite me too hard. I need use of my hand still, if you don’t mind.”

You let out a shuddering breath. It feels weird, and you realize…you don’t need to breathe? Taking in air is a reflex, but there’s no effect of your body processing oxygen.

Jesus fucking Christ.

“Okay. I’m going to do it.”

“Any day now.”

“Shut up.”

This is the thing that actually makes him smile, that slight curl of lips that is like a full-on grin for most people. Maybe it’s stupid—but it gives you courage.

You graze his skin with your new sharp teeth, and like a beachcomber searching for treasure with a metal detector, you just sense the sweet spot. You move as carefully as you can, pressing down into his flesh to make two neat little holes.

The spill of blood is divine, and you don’t have time to think that it’s gross. It fills your mouth and it is good, and you are so hungry, and you can’t get enough. The magic in this bloodletting rises like a tide, desire crashing over the both of you in a tingling, intoxicating rush. You feel everything, and there is no extricating the sexual pleasure from the gustatory. They are one and the same with this man, his delicious, powerful blood filling your mouth, his strapping body beneath yours, his hips bucking against you.

You feel his hand slide up your thigh, his thumb seeking the molten center of you. When he makes himself stop just short of your panty line you whine in protest, straining for his touch, but he resists your goading, his fingertips digging into your soft flesh. Perhaps you should be grateful, that he is strong enough to resist the pull of this magic between you, trying not to debauch you while you feed for the first time and everything is new and you have no idea what is happening. And yet, you can hardly think past how wonderful it would be to have his teeming erection buried inside you to the hilt while you drink him down.

You would tell him all this, but you can’t bring yourself to separate your mouth from the font of his delectable lifeblood. In fact, you don’t know how you’re going to stop, period.

It’s just so good.

John watches you through heavy lidded eyes, seemingly enjoying this as much as you are. Yet he has more sense of the situation as well, and when he tells you, “That’s enough, y/n,” an inhuman keening of protest escapes from deep in your throat.

“Y/n…” he warns again, his words thick with desire. “You have to stop.”

You close your eyes, telling yourself just one last mouthful.

That was two long sucking draughts ago.

Suddenly you feel a searing heat very near your face. Startled, your eyes fly open to find the crucifix there before you, and you hiss in answer, scrabbling back on the bed away from the holy item. With John Constantine’s blood on your lips you cower, shielding your eyes with a hand.

With a shuddering sigh he lowers the cross, sitting back against the headboard of his bed. He presses a tissue against his wrist, and your eyes are drawn to the crimson stains flowering on the wad of paper beneath his fingers.

What a waste, you think, before shaking the thought away.

Then the horror of what could have happened dawns on you.

You could have drank him dry, and in the heat of the moment you would have done it gladly.

Oh God. What have you become?

“I’m sorry,” you apologize again. “Are you ok?”

He actually has the gall to smirk at you, as though any of this could be funny. “Yeah. Not the first time I’ve lost a little blood.”

There’s some inside joke in that statement you don’t understand, though you sense the darkness of self-deprecation in it.

Somehow, you feel simultaneously sated, and horrible. With a whimper you curl up at the foot of his bed, closing your eyes against the world. You can feel everything. You sense the people in the building, the fragile sound of their juicy little hearts beating. Even outside, the life on the street, men and women going about their lives with no idea what lurks in the shadows, wanting to eat them up…

But most distracting of all, the sheets beneath you smell like John, and the lust in your blood has yet to abate, even if the feeding is over. You feel it marching across your skin like red-hot ants. The desire to crawl up the bed and press your bloody lips to his is real, and you fight it with everything you have, because you don’t imagine he’d appreciate that very much after what he’s done for you. The sour expression on his face did not match the size of the tent in his pants, that is for sure.  

You wonder, is it going to be like this every time you eat from now on? The thought does not thrill you.

“Hey,” he goads softly, and your eyes fly open to regard him. Again, your irises shine like lanterns, fueled by the roil of emotions warring in your heart. “Come here.” He holds out one of those beautiful hands to you. Hands that you had so relished upon your body, on your flesh, in your hair…hands with such thick, beautiful blue veins…

You’re not sure how he knows that you want to be held, but now you fear it too. You fear what you are, and your ability to control yourself around him. Because the truth is you still want him very much, and he’d basically told you point blank that you mean nothing to him. The thought weighs on your heart now like a thousand stinging needles, and you feel your eyes fill with moisture of some kind.

So, vampires can cry after all.

You touch a finger to the corner of your eye, and see it comes away tinted red.

You kind of want to throw up.

“Maybe…I should go,” you say sadly, sitting up. You’re certain you look as disheveled as you feel. Your hair is a bird’s nest. Your once pretty floral sundress is dirty and torn. No wonder he doesn’t want you.

“If…you want.” Why does he sound sad about it? Shouldn’t he be glad to see the backside of you? Constantine the Demon Hunter? If you’d been nothing but a one-night fuck as a human, he certainly didn’t want to spend time with you now.

 “You know you’re going to need a dark place to rest for the day?”

Is he actually worried about where you’re going to sleep?

“Okay.” You think you can manage that, in your apartment next door. Or maybe…you’ll see what happens, if you watch the sun rise. Maybe it would just be better that way. Are vampire suicides double damned? You’ve never really been a religious person, but he’d said it like it was A Thing.

It reminds you of what John had said earlier. “What did you mean before? When you said join the club?”

He sighs, reaching for a pack of cigarettes on the night stand. “I’ll tell you some other time.”

Feeling like you’ve now been dismissed, you slide from the bed, standing on bare feet. You should be sore, but your movements are lithe, liquid as a cat’s.

Something else to get used to.

You can feel Constantine’s eyes glued to you, and you dare to take one last look back, waiting to turn to a pillar of salt. He’s so handsome it hurts, even in his rumpled state, his cuffs rolled up his forearms and his tie loose around his neck. How do his soulful dark eyes seem to hold all the sorrow of the world right now?

“Bye, John.”

He just nods, and you let yourself out.

***

Much to your surprise, ten minutes before dawn, you hear a knock on your door. You know it's John. You can tell by the sound of his breathing, the sound of his heart beat. You can smell him, and it is a heady thing in your nostrils. When you do not answer he just lets himself in, the cheeky bastard. 

He finds you sitting in one of your thrift store chairs by the window, one of the only ones not broken in the mess the vampires who took you left behind. He does not like this, you can tell, by his hairline frown. 

“Hey.” 

“Hi.”

“Hate to tell you, but you're going to have to find a new way to get your vitamin D.”

“Ha ha,” you say, turning back to the window. A few people are out and about below. This city never really sleeps. 

“Hey,” he says again, crouching down by your chair. “I know this is a lot...”

The look you pay him is not exactly kind. He plows forward anyway.

“But take it from someone who's been there. Hell isn't a place you should be in a hurry to go.” 

You blink at that. He says it like it's so black and white, not a hint of uncertainty. Not faith. Fact. Once upon a time, you might have questioned his sanity. Not anymore. 

“Sounds like you've been.” 

“For about two minutes. It was enough.” 

“What was it like?” you whisper. 

“Pure agony.” 

Your eyes go wide at hearing that. 

“So...want to show me your bolt hole?” he asks.

Once upon a time you would have capitalized on the opportunity for inuendo with such comedic gold just handed to you for free, but you’re not in the mood. You just stare at him.

“John...You're a demon hunter. Why do you care?”

He tries to meet your eyes, but in the end can only look away. “Come on, y/n. Just…don’t give up yet, ok?”

He just feels guilty, you tell yourself, and you pry yourself from your chair with a sigh. You’re not sure what the point of anything will be, anymore. But maybe you’ll make an effort to go on, because he asked you to.

Sometimes, that’s all it takes.

“Fine.”

You figure the closet will be the darkest place in the apartment for you to hide.

[xxx-wounded-angel-xxx]

Love under the bookshelves - Demetri

Apparently, I posted this on AO3 but forgot to post it here... So here's a Dem x fem librarian reader.

You were a strange little thing. It is what most of the Volturi coven thought when they first saw you, what a queer little human! Instead of you ending up as food, Aro saw something in your thoughts, what he perceived as a promising gift. So, he left you a choice, death or becoming one of them. To his amusement, reminding you of a particular scene from a movie you loved: Be one of us…  And the first question you asked was: “Can I still be a librarian?” Because it was what really mattered to the little bookworm you were…  To remain surrounded by books, reading and discovering as you wish, and recommending what you had loved… Still amused by your behavior, Aro had given you the control of the library, and a nice budget for the collections… And so you said yes, not caring much about the human blood thing. Your gift must seem a really precious thing for him.

You almost expected Aro to turn him yourself, but he left Demetri do it.

Demetri was quite nice, watching over you from afar, but you never noticed much, too busy getting lost in your written world. So many books! The library, that he showed you, was wonderful, a dream come true. You beamed when you saw it for the first time as a human, and you beamed again when you first saw it with your vampire eyes. The transformation had been painful, yes, but Demetri was here, watching over you, you could feel it, and somehow even if you didn’t know him well it was comforting. It took you a while to get used to your new body, to learn to reign your newfound strength, and not be a threat to your precious books and the wonderful and fluffy cats of the castle. Feeding on humans was instinctual, and Demetri was there to guide you through every step. After only a month, you had a decent control of your body, able to not run at full speed all the time anymore, or accidentally breaking things by gripping them too hard.

Life in the castle was nice. You were able to bring some of your books and belongings from your human life, and following Aro’s orders you were left to your own device, doing as you wished and adapting to your new life. Soon, you started to spend all of your time in the library, enjoying your new memory to learn new languages and to remember all the books you were reading. It made the life of the guards that were supposed to watch over you much easier, to make sure the newborn you were wasn’t causing any troubles. And you were not! Calm on the outside, you used that restless feeling newborns have to do your librarian job, think about ways to make the library better, and to read books. You were already thinking about ways to catalogue everything, and to the sheer horror of some vampires, how to have an actual classification that made sense…

After two months, you were allowed to buy books for the library, and you were particularly excited about it. It would change you from having to only read old books, or things that others had chosen to buy: you could choose your own books! You placed your order to an independent little bookstore, and even managed to get books in other languages, like your native one.

And finally it was the day that the books would be delivered! You were under Demetri’s responsibility, and he was watching over you from afar as you grew more and more restless, wanting desperately your books. You were practically vibrating from excitement, and Demetri watched over you carefully, generally it wasn’t a good thing for newborns.

When you heard the delivery person talk to the secretary two floors below, you bolted toward where you knew your books would be. Demetri followed you, mindful of your every movement. You let out a squeal of delight, and only stopped in front of the secretary desk, this time very much vibrating by how excited you were. “Where are my books please?”

The secretary shows you the box full of books, and you eagerly open it, looking delighted at how many good novels and manga waiting for you. Too focused on the books, you barely pay attention to the sweet sweet scent in the air. You look up at the secretary, thanking her, not paying attention at how close Demetri had gotten, a worried look on his face, nor the ruby pearls dripping down her fingers… Gripping your box of books, you ran back to the library, missing the amazed looks of the vampire nearby that had smelled the fresh blood that you had ignored much more easily than you should have.

Demetri stayed with you the whole day, watching you read happily, a soft smile on his face. You were such a peculiar little vampire… But it made you even more extraordinary in his eyes.

After hearing about this little non-incident, Aro was even more curious about you, and decided that you could go into town to visit a library, to the condition someone was with you. Demetri volunteered, and you were happy about it, you’d come to like when he was near you. You awaited the next rainy day with impatience, wanting to explore the independent bookstore yourself, Demetri by your side.

The next rainy day came, and you were really thrilled about it, until you weren’t. Demetri had told you his goodbye the day before as he was leaving for a mission… When Chelsea asked you if you wanted her to go with you instead, you turned her down: you wanted Demetri… It made her smile, knowing what you had not understood yet.

You spent the next few days in the library, but it seems much bigger, emptier without Demetri’s presence. You read and read, believing those romance books would make it better. And it did, in a way, but you kept missing Demetri. He was always with you recently, and it made you sad that he wasn’t anymore. Was tracking that rogue vampire difficult? Did he missed you like you missed him? Was there a whole in his heart like there was one in yours?

It's all of those books that made you realize something, when you finally understood that the feelings you had for Demetri, were the same as the main character of your novel had for the love interest… All this time, reading quietly in the library, at first far away but then closer and closer, until you’d always share the same velvet couch; sipping blood wine as you explained him many librarian considerations, ones that surely weren’t that interesting to him, but that he would always listen carefully to, asking questions to hear more of your sweet voice…

Demetri wasn’t home, and you realized Volterra felt home because it was his home, and he made you feel welcome. It was your home, because Demetri was always somehow keeping an eye on you, making sure you were feeling at ease, enquiring of your well-being. You loved Demetri, but he wasn’t home for you to tell him.

The next two days felt like torture, even more painful for you than your own transformation. But days came and went, and finally, you heard his gorgeous voice, talking with Felix. You rose, and ran fast, very fast, towards him, nearly knocking up  a few guards and things on your way, only stopping in front of Demetri, his soft curls framing his eyes as he looked down at you.

“Darling! How are you doing? I’ve missed you…” He did not get the time to say more, as you hugged him really tight, refusing to let go, burying your face in his chest, where is unbeating heart was. And for the first time, you were really focused on him. And you felt it. That warm pull that made you enjoy his presence. That made you eager to always have him with you, that made his voice the most beautiful sound on earth, that made Volterra home. Your eyes widen at the realization, and you look up at him. He knows, you realize at the look on his face. He knew it the whole time and he waited for me to feel it too.

“Demetri…” The way you said his name, with such love, such longing, it drove him crazy. He said your name too, and something your brain did not fully registered, but that you agreed to. And he bent down slightly, and his lips met yours, in a soft and tender kiss. It was everything you were waiting for, his kiss, you realized, and you kissed him back; poor Felix happy for his friend but abandoned, left to debrief alone to the kings about the rogue vampire tracked and killed.

“You have no idea how long I’ve longed to do this…” “And now you can do it again and again, for as long as you wish.” You answer him, grabbing his hand and holding it in your smaller one.

“I will love you forever then…”

[mccdimples]

SPOILERS FOR AGATHA ALL ALONG EPISODE 6 AHEAD

Okay, I have so many thoughts and theories about this episode, here's some of them:

I feel like we definitely didn't need a 50-minute episode all about billy, especially when episode 5 was a 25-minute episode about agatha's trial, you know... the main character of the show.  There was so much going on last episode and everything felt so rushed, all leading to the big "reveal". I wish they could've explored agatha's scenes with her mother more, maybe if evanora accepted her and taught her how to control her magic we wouldn't have the agatha we have today. I know they needed to explain everything involving billy, but it just felt too long for me. When agatha showed up to interrogate him, it felt like a breeze of fresh air, it quicky became one of my favorite scenes of the show. And can we talk about kathryn's acting ?? she really is the moment.

I actually liked that billy is looking for tommy and not wanda. If wanda appears in the show, that would be amazing, but if she doesn't, that would be totally fine to me. 

The ralph appereance was so good, seeing evan peters on my screen is always a treat, specially when he plays crazy people. I always love to see the aftermath or the damage that the heroes, or in this case agatha, leave behind.

The black heart thing, I honestly think is just a coincidence. How on earth was agatha supposed to know that eddie sends black hearts to billy ? I know it was lilia who wrote the names, but it was agatha who was supposed to assemble the coven, so the names had to make sense to her. And her reaction to the 4th name/drawing matches the whole "I have a heart. It's black and it beats for you" scene, plus her deflection when lilia says it was a black heart written on the paper. And to top it off, they need an earth witch to complete the trials, and as far as I know, billy is not that. Eddie sent a black heart because his boyfriend is a goth obsessed with witches. 

We were such clowns with agathario this episode. I really think we're getting that kiss, probably in the last episode in a dramatic way, but I really wanted it to be in this one. It kinda sucks that billy got to kiss his boyfriend first other than agatha (the main character) and rio having their on-screen kiss, but hey, all representation matters. I'm actually glad marvel is finally having the courage to be free with a character's sexuality on screen.  

I really want to see how the show will end, when we first learned that ep 06 was a billy centered episode it got me thinking that maybe agatha wasn't going to survive in the end. Maybe this show was a way to catapult billy onto the mcu, so the young avengers could be formed. But after this episode, I think agatha will become billy's mentor, just like she was a mentor to wanda in the comics. 

And to end things, where the hell is rio ?? Apparently the last trial is hers, and I definitely think it will have to do with nicholas, he will probably be the way to tie agatha and rio's story together and show us their history. Do I think rio will say he was her son too ? No. Do I want to be wrong ? So bad.

[mswyrr]

why i think agatha has never walked the Road before

Based on the song lyrics, if she had walked it before, she would have needed a coven to do it, and we have every reason to believe she hasn't had a coven since her first betrayed her.

Gather sisters fire Water, earth and air Darkest hour, wake thy power Earthly and divine Burn and brew with coven true And glory shall be thine

Even if she had previously bamboozled some poor bunch of witches into the Road, if they didn't become her "coven true" in that process, the attempt would have been a failure. Perhaps she has survived a previous, failed attempt, but she's never walked it successfully. To walk it successfully would mean to have community at the end, and that would require her to be changed in key ways.

Another lyric talks about "fate" and another about facing your "fears." If Agatha had faced her fears or fate successfully in the past, she wouldn't be the person she is imo. She's currently someone who is in constant flight from her past, her own feelings, other people. Only Wanda's magic trapped her, pinning her in place, forcing her into community with others. And that has just (for the moment) made Agatha double down on running and using. At least at the surface level.

Moving beyond the specific lyrics of the song, there's two broad categories of how to handle magic in stories. The first treats it like a possession--like a powerful weapon or tool in a character's hand--something that belongs to them and they can do with it what they wish and, pivotally, who they are is separate from it. The second treats magic as something that transforms you -- it's not a tool you wield, to wield it creates/requires a change in your very being. I think the way they're writing magic on the show is the second (to me, vastly superior) approach rather than the first.

The song itself and the use of a Road both point to this. The idea of a walking a path or road and being changed by it is widespread in global spiritual practices -- many religions articulate the religion itself as a road/path to walk -- the process of walking the path is supposed to bring you more and more into alignment with the power/enlightenment you seek, rather than the power becoming a thing YOU own.

Agatha herself is so deeply unenlightened at this moment in her life that she is TREATING the Road as if it is the category one kind of magic. Just a tool or a weapon she can grasp and possess without changing. She's treating the magical commitment she's made to this coven similarly, as if it has no weight to it. But I think she's dead wrong about all of that. That the magic in this story is of the second category, and through walking the Road--and committing to a coven-- she will experience change and find a "coven true." Not that she will become all nice; not that the coven will be all sweetness and light. But that it will simply be real and true.

As Jac herself has said about community:

"I hope what people take from the show, is that yes there is a tremendous amount of benefit from the circle, from the tribe, that you can have communal power, and your can find your own internal power in that circle. But also it was really important to me to show that there can also be in fighting in that circle. And there can also be bad decision-making and backstabbing, and the complexity of these witches no being able to get along. The goal for them (coven) is to harmonize both literally and figuratively, and they fail at it! You know, in a number of occasions, a circle can give you so much. But it's always going to be an imperfect thing." --podcast interview with Jac Schaeffer, quote transcribed by the lovely @isagrimorie (thank you! <3)

Even at its best, community is hard work. A "coven true" doesn't mean easy. Just real and sincere. Agatha lost the "grounding" of herself in her youth (my meta on that is here) and she will be more grounded again.

At its worst, as Agatha learned in her youth, community can become monstrous and terrifying. A prison rather than a home; a death sentence rather than a safe place to live and grow. But even when things aren't in that failure state, it can be painful and difficult -- its own hard road to walk. But on that journey you *become*. And others become along with you. By committing to each other, you are not instantly made whole and enlightened. But you allow yourself to live and breathe and become. To do the hard work of becoming. And it is that process of becoming (of living) that Agatha has cut herself off from by cutting herself off from people.

[monstersinthecosmos]

Marius considers Armand the main mistake of his life

Do you think he would turn him into a vampire again if he could go back in time?

!!!!!!!!!! the easy answer to this is yes of course because he's a person trapped in a cycle who makes the same mistakes over and over 😂

but! the deeper answer here is that I don't agree that Marius considers Armand a mistake!!!!!!!!!

I think he regrets the way Armand was turned and regrets that he didn't take care of Santino when he had the chance. I think he spent 500 years feeling like he failed Armand, and so the content of the actual mistake is not Armand himself, but the circumstances around him and wishing things had been different in Venice.

This is the part in TVL where Marius says he fucked up with Armand -

"Whatever will happen will happen, but choose your companions with care. Choose them because you like to look at them and you like the sound of their voices, and they have profound secrets in them that you wish to know. In other words, choose them because you love them. Otherwise you will not be able to bear their company for very long. "

"I understand, " I said. "Make them in love. "

"Exactly, make them in love. And make certain they have had some lifetime before you make them; and never never make one as young as Armand. That is the worst crime I have ever committed against my own kind, the taking of the young boy child Armand. "

"But you didn't know the Children of Darkness would come when they did, and separate him from you. "

"No. But still, I should have waited. It was loneliness that drove me to it. And Armand's helplessness, that his mortal life was so completely in my hands. Remember, beware of that power, and the power you have over those who are dying. Loneliness in us, and that sense of power, can be as strong as the thirst for blood. “

So like obviously AR retconned Armand's backstory a bit over time, like this version of events doesn't say Marius did it because Armand got stabbed and was dying lol, but I think there's still a throughline between this and TVA and B&G about how Marius was trying to wait, and in waiting kept changing his mind until his hand was forced.

And don't forget that during the Venice era he was also painfully in love with both Botticelli and Bianca, and he used Armand as a rebound from them. He was going off of Eudoxia's advice to pick someone he could groom for vampirism, and he picked a traumatized teenager who could be a blank slate.

He changed his mind almost immediately though! He loved Armand! He knew he couldn't do this to him, but also began to realize he'd sort of ruined Armand for regular life anyway, and it was inevitable!

So I think like, in any version of events, or if he had the chance to do things differently, the common denominator of crushing loneliness would push him to it anyway, and he loved Armand anyway. He wanted to keep Armand. I just wonder if he'd try to prepare him better and let him live longer, and take care of the coven so that they wouldn't ruin Armand's life.

And the thing about time loops & time travel that we see in storytelling all the time is that things are sometimes inevitable. Like, Marius can go back in time and try to keep Armand from dating Harlech, but he can't do anything about it during the day, and Armand is going to do it anyway. Armand isn't going to listen!

And when I think about what parts of Armand's personality are innate and what's The Trauma it's like, we talk all the time about how they're immortal and have all the time in the world to heal, so who's to say that Armand won't be okay one day! And would the Marius of 2112 risk a change like this if Armand is happy and okay and their relationship is good?

Because even if he waited and turned Armand a little older and they had more time together, and eventually get to a good place, is it worth the risk to lose the GOOD things they've built together, or that have happened because of Armand? Like without Armand, would Marius have Daniel? Would he even have Lestat? Would he have ever been freed from TWMBK?

There's a fluffy version of time travel where you go back and fix something and everything is okay LOL so we ultimately come back to the classic topic of Marius loving selfishly vs selflessly--would he ever decide his loneliness is worth the 300 years of pain that Armand went through? Or are we dealing with the type of time travel that says some things are inevitable, and the lesson of the story is that you can't change it without losing something?

And how would ARMAND even feel about it? Armand takes his immortality like a champ and while he has big cosmic feelings about it sometimes, he doesn't complain. He feels love. He still fears death like everyone else. Is this a risk he'd even consent to? Would he turn in his own damnation for death? Is his death, and the gift of being freed from a curse worth missing out on his love of Lestat and Louis and Daniel and Benji & Sybelle?

THERE'S JUST SO MANY WAYS IT COULD GO WRONG LIKE IS IT EVEN WORTH IT IDK

JUST THE BRIEFEST OVERVIEW WITH A FEW SIMPLE OPTIONS, THIS HAS INFINITE SPACE TO GROW TBH

I love time travel as a topic LMAO I keep daydreaming about ways to write time travel VC fic!!!!! I love it for Sheith fandom but it's easier to incorporate because it's sci-fi. But I think as a storytelling vehicle it always tries to tell us to stick with the devil we know. I think I'm getting carried away with my nerd topic and straying from your question LMAO but this is how I'm pondering.

I'd also ask if SANTINO would do things differently. If he'd leave Armand alone!!!!!!!!! And I'll stop here because, like I said, the space on the chart is infinite and you could talk all day because what if Santino hadn't acted like a cunt, what if Marius didn't feel that TWMBK were threatened by cults, what if there had been even the slightest peace in the vampire community where Marius didn't have to feel like the sole keeper, how different would his life have been, would he have even still needed Armand, etc etc etc etc

So yeah I think he'd do it again. :)

And I mean.

He turned Benji.

Soooooooooooooo idk if he learned a lesson about turning children. SHRUG.

[leonardalphachurch]

I was reading through your Tucker tag (because I really like your Tucker takes) and I saw in one of your writings that you have Junior's sangheili name be Jaen ‘Kelossai. And I was just really curious about where the name came from? I don't remember there being a Kelos Sangheili keep (though I haven't checked in a while)?

I'd love to know your thought process behind why you picked the name if you're interested in sharing.

so fun fact: we have memory problems and i cannot find where we would have written it down LMAO. let me look through my discord message history and see if i might’ve talked about it while doing it…

okay okay the wiki says

A Sangheili's first name is a given name that is attained at birth and persists throughout their life. After reaching adulthood, they are given a badge name. During the time of the Covenant, this was often composed of two core parts: an adjective describing the individual, and a family name. Ado 'Mortumee was one practitioner of this system, where 'Mor' was his personal descriptor, and 'Tum' identified his lineage.[124] Alternatively, some may have their badge name drawn from their State of origin, which could be tied to a specific Keep or family. For example: Thel 'Vadam, (formerly 'Vadamee when he served the Covenant,) was from the Vadam lineage.

okay so i said “buhhhh if the baby is a fucking. prophecy baby they can give this to a baby too” in reference to them giving badge names to adults…

the suffix "-ai" denotes swordsmanship

this explains the “ai” part of kelossai…

right okay reading more i remember i decided that the prophecy baby would probably have a unique state of origin/lineage/keep name, so i’m pretty sure keloss wasn’t meant to be a descriptor and a lineage but to be more like vadam and just the whole thing is a lineage. okay. but why keloss….

i’m PRETTY sure jaen was picked bc i wanted it to be close to junior. there aren’t a lot of words in sangheili that actually have translations so i had the reigns to make something up.

WAIT OKAY LOOKING AT THE LANGUAGE PAGE

Kel - Light (that dances on the waves)[13]

Jeeneh - Soul[Note 2] This is a phonetic spelling. The proper rendering has not been confirmed in canon.

okay and i translated his name as “The soul who lights the prophecy of the sword.” okay i should have just looked at the language page in the first place LOL well at least we went on a journey together.

tl;dr i used the translations off the wiki to use “Keloss” to mean “to light” based on “Kel” and “Jaen” to mean “soul” based on “Jeeneh” and then “-ai” is just the suffix for swordsman.

ALSO THANK YOU for the compliment i wish my tag system was more organized for you so it was easier to find all my writing about him LMAO

[rita-repulsa-ke]

jealousy

post-finale, set in the past. Death is a jealous lover, they are both exceedingly petty. They are doing their normal fighting and flirting thing, maybe a bit more fighting. This is probably PG-13.

Going with two headcanons, that Death can’t kill people directly and that Agatha and Death have a deal where Agatha kills for her to keep herself alive, thus the murders.

Also Agatha speaks incredibly anachronistically on purpose, because she should be able to.

In 1780, Agatha takes a woman to bed.

No one who matters, a younger woman she passes on the street, doubles back to compliment the sewing on her dress, and then to compliment the blush on her cheeks. She forces herself listening to the girl's concerns about her upcoming nuptials, plies her with beer and sympathy until finally she gets her bodice off and things proceed from there as they have for the centuries before and will for the centuries after.

Her plaything has run off home when the air currents in the room change and the scent of grave dirt fills the room. Agatha, lying naked on the bed, opens her eyes, her expression twisting to one of malevolent, contemptuous hatred, and looks up at Death.

"Oh," she says. "It's you."

"I want her," Rio says with no precursor, motioning in the vague direction of the door and presumably the girl who had recently exited through it.

"Sure," Agatha says, easing up to sitting, reaching for her clothes, aware of the way she is being stared at, hungry, possessive. "I don't mind if you have my sloppy seconds."

"Agatha," Rio complains, because they both know Agatha is being purposefully uncooperative. "I want her dead." She slices her knife lazily through the air, a slow cut across an invisible throat.

"Do it yourself then," Agatha says, then gasps in mock-shock. "Oh, but that's right, you can't! It isn't her time. That's too bad for you, I'm so sorry."

Rio rolls her eyes. "I'll let you skip the next tithe."

Agatha stops and considers that. It's a good offer. That's time she could use for things other than finding and killing a coven of witches, time for her own personal projects, of which she was many. And it would be easy, she wouldn't even have to watch. There's hair all over her pillow, one of those and the right spell and the woman will sicken and die by morning.

She should say yes. It's just that she's very, very petty.

"Nope. Don't feel like it. She wasn't that bad in bed, honestly. Better than you ever were," she says, hopping into her pants, still shirtless and aware of where Rio's eyes are.

Look all you want, she thinks, you'll never get to touch. It's a stupid, small, petty victory, how much Death wants and can't have her, but such little victories are some of the few joys left to her.

"You're so immature," Rio murmurs and Agatha snorts.

"I'm getting better. Remember when I went through my bad boy phase?"

Rio studies her, head tilted to one side, hip cocked, aggressive and deadly, but Agatha isn't worried. Death can't touch her. There are rules.

And then Rio has her down on the bed, straddling her, the knife against her abdomen and Agatha remembers the fine print of those rules.

Rio can't take her life, but there's nothing stopping her from causing Agatha pain. And that knife is positioned in a way that could cause quite a bit of pain.

"Reconsider," Rio says, looking down at her with unnerving adoration.

"Hey, when we're talking about immature, can we talk about your sudden desire to have me kill the first woman I've had in my bed since—" she stops what she might have said, self-corrects. "In thirty years?"

In answer, Rio trails her fingers over Agatha's neck, down to her collarbone, but no further. Agatha finds herself wishing she had gotten her shirt on before they'd ended up like this. Those warm fingers on her skin evoke memories she could do without.

"Mine," Rio says. "All mine. No one else touches you."

Agatha bursts into snorting laughter, quickly restrained by the blade indenting her skin. "Wow, this is incentive to turn into the biggest slut possible. Feel free to do your creepy lurking, though. Watch all you want." Her hand cups Rio's cheek and with great care, she levers herself up on her elbow. "Miss me, baby?"

"Yes," Rio says, turning lighting-quick, pressing a kiss to Agatha's palm. Agatha jerks her hand back, wipes it on the bed with the expression of someone who squashed a bug barehanded.

"Ew," she complains, and okay, maybe Rio is right and she is petty, but the flicker of real fury in Rio's eyes, behind the more obvious exasperation, is very rewarding.

Then the knife bites in, sends a trickle of blood down her stomach and she hisses in pain. "Do what I want," Rio singsongs. "Or take your medicine."

"How about option C?" Agatha snarls, magic slamming into Rio's chest, throwing her across the room. She scrambles up, snatches her shirt, but has to shield against the next attack before she can put it on. Black tendrils of magic try to find a way around her shields, crawling bits of craft probing for any weakness.

"Still so sloppy," she taunts.

"How so?" Rio asks, not bothering to hide her amusement at Agatha trying to pull a shirt on with one hand while she continues to cast with the other. "And when did you get so modest, anyway?"

"Honey, no one likes to be ogled by their ex," Agatha says. "As for how, you are using so much power for that little exploratory spell, if you didn't have literally endless limits, you'd burn out before—"

She stops abruptly, because this is starting to get fun. She's starting to smile, a wild, exhilarated smile. She's starting to feel the urge to giggle, to experiment with spells, to find out if she can remove the floor from under Rio before she notices and send her plummeting into the room below.

For one breath, one heartbeat, she's forgotten to grieve.

She drops her shields at the same time Rio launches a real attack. It won't kill her, but it will hurt.

That's all right. It should.

Then there is a shape in front of her, only very slightly a woman, the impression of arms spread wide and an all-encompassing, welcoming darkness, the space behind the world.

The spell hits, and then there is only Rio, staggering, holding her side and Agatha's instinct is to reach for her, catch her, offer comfort or more likely, a scolding about not being able to better redirect her own energy—

Instead, she crosses her arms over her chest and watches, impassive, unmoved.

Rio whirls on her, nostrils flared, eyes wide. "What was that—" she stops, looks at Agatha. Snorts without mirth. "Oooh. Ags, if you want it to hurt that badly, you only have to ask." The knife is back in her hand, as much a part of her as any of her limbs. Perhaps more so, who can say what real shape lies under her favored guise? "I've got better ways than magic." She pauses, then adds, softer, more careful, "And that could have really hurt you."

"Can't have your favorite killing machine injured, hmm?" Agatha purrs. "Who'd get you all those bodies you love so much?"

"You know that isn't why," Rio says, colder, unimpressed.

Agatha shrugs, indifferent, resummoning her magic. "So are we going to do this or—"

Rio doesn't answer. She looks away from Agatha, always a bad idea. "…ss me," she murmurs, syllables too soft to be properly made out.

"What was that?"

"Kiss me. And I'll let it go." She still can't make herself look at Agatha.

"Wow," Agatha says, then repeats. "Wooooow. This is a new low, even for you. I know you're obsessed with me," she tosses her hair, preens a little. "And who could blame you. Still, that is really pitiful."

Rio taps her knife against the air, her expression one of grim patience, as though Agatha is a trial she’s trying to will herself through. "You can't beat me."

Agatha snorts. "We'll see about that. But all right, Romeo. Let me skip the next tithe and I'll do it."

Rio nods at once, as easy as that.

Agatha swaggers toward her, places her hand on her former lover's cheek, shockingly warm against her palm. "Close your eyes," she whispers, her voice gone husky. "I'll make it good."

Rio trembles ever-so-slightly and obeys.

Agatha spins her free hand in the air, mouths a silent incantation and the floor drops out from Rio, sends her plummeting into the room below as Agatha cackles with delight and for just a moment, forgets to grieve.

if you haven’t read it, I recommend the mistake.

[scarlet-fangs]

Love blooming under bookshelves

Here it is, the little love story I wrote for Demetri who won the poll! Reader is a librarian, and their little weirdness has bewitched the tracker's heart...

You were a strange little thing. It is what most of the Volturi coven thought when they first saw you, what a queer little human! Instead of you ending up as food, Aro saw something in your thoughts, what he perceived as a promising gift. So, he left you a choice, death or becoming one of them. To his amusement, reminding you of a particular scene from a movie you loved: Be one of us…  And the first question you asked was: “Can I still be a librarian?” Because it was what really mattered to the little bookworm you were…  To remain surrounded by books, reading and discovering as you wish, and recommending what you had loved… Still amused by your behavior, Aro had given you the control of the library, and a nice budget for the collections… And so you said yes, not caring much about the human blood thing. Your gift must seem a really precious thing for him.

You almost expected Aro to turn him yourself, but he left Demetri do it.

Demetri was quite nice, watching over you from afar, but you never noticed much, too busy getting lost in your written world. So many books! The library, that he showed you, was wonderful, a dream come true. You beamed when you saw it for the first time as a human, and you beamed again when you first saw it with your vampire eyes. The transformation had been painful, yes, but Demetri was here, watching over you, you could feel it, and somehow even if you didn’t know him well it was comforting. It took you a while to get used to your new body, to learn to reign your newfound strength, and not be a threat to your precious books and the wonderful and fluffy cats of the castle. Feeding on humans was instinctual, and Demetri was there to guide you through every step. After only a month, you had a decent control of your body, able to not run at full speed all the time anymore, or accidentally breaking things by gripping them too hard.

Life in the castle was nice. You were able to bring some of your books and belongings from your human life, and following Aro’s orders you were left to your own device, doing as you wished and adapting to your new life. Soon, you started to spend all of your time in the library, enjoying your new memory to learn new languages and to remember all the books you were reading. It made the life of the guards that were supposed to watch over you much easier, to make sure the newborn you were wasn’t causing any troubles. And you were not! Calm on the outside, you used that restless feeling newborns have to do your librarian job, think about ways to make the library better, and to read books. You were already thinking about ways to catalogue everything, and to the sheer horror of some vampires, how to have an actual classification that made sense…

After two months, you were allowed to buy books for the library, and you were particularly excited about it. It would change you from having to only read old books, or things that others had chosen to buy: you could choose your own books! You placed your order to an independent little bookstore, and even managed to get books in other languages, like your native one.

And finally it was the day that the books would be delivered! You were under Demetri’s responsibility, and he was watching over you from afar as you grew more and more restless, wanting desperately your books. You were practically vibrating from excitement, and Demetri watched over you carefully, generally it wasn’t a good thing for newborns.

When you heard the delivery person talk to the secretary two floors below, you bolted toward where you knew your books would be. Demetri followed you, mindful of your every movement. You let out a squeal of delight, and only stopped in front of the secretary desk, this time very much vibrating by how excited you were. “Where are my books please?”

The secretary shows you the box full of books, and you eagerly open it, looking delighted at how many good novels and manga waiting for you. Too focused on the books, you barely pay attention to the sweet sweet scent in the air. You look up at the secretary, thanking her, not paying attention at how close Demetri had gotten, a worried look on his face, nor the ruby pearls dripping down her fingers… Gripping your box of books, you ran back to the library, missing the amazed looks of the vampire nearby that had smelled the fresh blood that you had ignored much more easily than you should have.

Demetri stayed with you the whole day, watching you read happily, a soft smile on his face. You were such a peculiar little vampire… But it made you even more extraordinary in his eyes.

After hearing about this little non-incident, Aro was even more curious about you, and decided that you could go into town to visit a library, to the condition someone was with you. Demetri volunteered, and you were happy about it, you’d come to like when he was near you. You awaited the next rainy day with impatience, wanting to explore the independent bookstore yourself, Demetri by your side.

The next rainy day came, and you were really thrilled about it, until you weren’t. Demetri had told you his goodbye the day before as he was leaving for a mission… When Chelsea asked you if you wanted her to go with you instead, you turned her down: you wanted Demetri… It made her smile, knowing what you had not understood yet.

You spent the next few days in the library, but it seems much bigger, emptier without Demetri’s presence. You read and read, believing those romance books would make it better. And it did, in a way, but you kept missing Demetri. He was always with you recently, and it made you sad that he wasn’t anymore. Was tracking that rogue vampire difficult? Did he missed you like you missed him? Was there a whole in his heart like there was one in yours?

It's all of those books that made you realize something, when you finally understood that the feelings you had for Demetri, were the same as the main character of your novel had for the love interest… All this time, reading quietly in the library, at first far away but then closer and closer, until you’d always share the same velvet couch; sipping blood wine as you explained him many librarian considerations, ones that surely weren’t that interesting to him, but that he would always listen carefully to, asking questions to hear more of your sweet voice…

Demetri wasn’t home, and you realized Volterra felt home because it was his home, and he made you feel welcome. It was your home, because Demetri was always somehow keeping an eye on you, making sure you were feeling at ease, enquiring of your well-being. You loved Demetri, but he wasn’t home for you to tell him.

The next two days felt like torture, even more painful for you than your own transformation. But days came and went, and finally, you heard his gorgeous voice, talking with Felix. You rose, and ran fast, very fast, towards him, nearly knocking up  a few guards and things on your way, only stopping in front of Demetri, his soft curls framing his eyes as he looked down at you.

“Darling! How are you doing? I’ve missed you…” He did not get the time to say more, as you hugged him really tight, refusing to let go, burying your face in his chest, where is unbeating heart was. And for the first time, you were really focused on him. And you felt it. That warm pull that made you enjoy his presence. That made you eager to always have him with you, that made his voice the most beautiful sound on earth, that made Volterra home. Your eyes widen at the realization, and you look up at him. He knows, you realize at the look on his face. He knew it the whole time and he waited for me to feel it too.

“Demetri…” The way you said his name, with such love, such longing, it drove him crazy. He said your name too, and something your brain did not fully registered, but that you agreed to. And he bent down slightly, and his lips met yours, in a soft and tender kiss. It was everything you were waiting for, his kiss, you realized, and you kissed him back; poor Felix happy for his friend but abandoned, left to debrief alone to the kings about the rogue vampire tracked and killed.

“You have no idea how long I’ve longed to do this…” “And now you can do it again and again, for as long as you wish.” You answer him, grabbing his hand and holding it in your smaller one.

“I will love you forever then…”

[monostardust]

David 8

So David 8 has always been so intriguing for me. He's an android an artificial being who's programed to feel and be like humans. And yet he's a bit human at times. His childlike curiosity of things he finds interesting like Shaw and her dreams about her father. Or his favorite movie and later on the black goo and what it could do to various lifeforms.

He's a bit human most times because of the curiosity until it gets morbid.

Oh and yes I do believe he did love Shaw in his own morbid ways of course. See when Weyland was alive David needed to follow his directive which was make Weyland happy and do everything and anything he says to make that happen. But then he died and that essentially made him a "free man". The purpose of his directives are gone and now he can have his own directives for himself and not for anyone. He can satisfy his curiosities without consequences of delaying Weyland's wishes because the old chap is dead. He can do what he want. And he did in fact do all he wanted.

Even Shaw was not safe from his selfish wants. When he developed deep seated love for her after she put him back which was a long time coming as he's always favored her the most for her little kindness towards him unlike the other crew or Weyland and Vickers. She'd thank him despite it being his job. She's not unnecessarily mean to him like everyone else. It made sense why he'd love her. To experience kindness is to eventually crave it. Pine for it. And to David, Shaw was probably the embodiment of it because he never experienced it from anyone other than her.

Because he's emotionally immature and obviously his programming has been tweaking long before shit hit the fan he doesn't really know how love works. He doesn't know that love is about caring, and respect for your loved ones. David doesn't know how to love others because Weyland doesn't either. Weyland only loves himself and prioritizes all his wants over everyone else's even his own daughter. It once again makes sense why David is the way he is because he's as Weyland quoted "And I made him in my own image so he could be perfect. So he would never fail."

David is a much worse Weyland I guess?? Just more committed to experimental monstrosity because he's more intelligent. My guess is that after spending time with Shaw and experiencing her kindness over time he started to delude himself that he's something special to her. He means something to her like Holloway meant something to Shaw. He deludes himself into thinking they're some sort of couple. And what do life long devoted couples usually have? A baby. Or Children.

So like a man thinking a child would fix things between him and his wife he thought of making Shaw a mother once again. Something Shaw would never be but most distressingly became one because of an alien babe. But this time he would be the father not Holloway. So he experimented on her, he was creating "life" from her parts and making her more resilient as well. Keeping her alive for her to witness their perfect "children" come to life. Eventually she succumbs and dies, which leaves him distraught. Which is why we get the scene of him crying in Covenant when he talks to Walter near her grave. She was never meant to die, she was only meant to mutate so she wouldn't die when he took from her. She was supposed to be with him forever with their "children". Yet she did and even then he doesn't regret mutating her, he'd probably thought of going about it another way to ensure she lives but he'd still experiment on her.

David's new directive is his wants and not even his love could stop these directives, he wanted to create life with Shaw as they both couldn't on their own. He couldn't be a father because he was an artificial being and Shaw couldn't because she's infertile. And because he thought Shaw wanted a baby, so he was going to use her to create their baby. Their special baby. I think that's also why he reacted so strongly when the neomorph was shot at because this was his baby with Shaw. One of the only things that carries Shaw is these monstrosities he's created from her. They're a reminder of Shaw and his brilliance.

[veryace-ficrecs]

Destiel Fic Recs

This list will include all ratings and tags, so read at your own discretion! :)

Clean up, aisle you by withered - Rated T

Dean’s the baby whisperer. A regular Daddy Daycare, only with a better car and less of a gut.

He’s gotten used to kids coming up to him during backyard barbecues in the summer. Whether it’s asking him inane questions or requesting piggyback rides, or making proclamations and abruptly leaving, Dean’s pretty nonchalant around kids as a rule.

It’s why he does nothing more than blink when he feels a small hand grab his, and flash a surprised, “Hey there, bud” upon discovering he’s been claimed by some random kid toddling around unattended in the snack aisle

The Dadification of One Castiel Novak by runraerun - Rated G

When one of Cas’ old I.D.’s gets rejected, Sam and Dean tell him afterwards it’s because his picture is outdated—but this doesn’t make any sense, Castiel explains; Angel vessels don’t age. Dean has to break it to Cas that he doesn’t look like he’s in his 20’s anymore.

In Due Time (Dean Winchester is Saved) by caelum_writes - Rated T

A 26-year-old Dean is transported to 2021 and confronted with the unfathomable - a future where he is happy, safe, and loved. --- “Aren’t you gunna say it?” he asks tentatively, as if he’s crazy for picking up on the obvious. “Yeah, you’re me. Past me, anyway,” the other Dean replies. “I wanna know from when.” “What are you talking about?” “Time travel,” the older Dean states as if it’s so obvious and ordinary. “It happens.” “To who? Marty McFly?”

if wishes were horses by teen_dean - Rated T

“Thought it was me at first,” Dean said. “Just not in my nature to settle. But then I thought: there’s not supposed to be suffering here. So what’s with the heartache?” He sighed. “I know I can’t make Cas show up if he doesn’t want to. Maybe he doesn’t want to take a chance on me. Maybe he’s moved on. But then I gotta feel lonesome for eternity and call it Paradise?” “Dean,” said Mary. “Are you going on a hunt in Heaven?” “Yeah,” said Dean. “I reckon I am.”

Water, Sunlight, T.L.C. by youaresunlight - Rated T

Cas is turned into a plant after an unfortunate skirmish with a coven. Hannah brings him to Dean and Sam to seek their help, and Dean has a few emotional discoveries while taking care of Cas. I assure you that this is not (I repeat, not) a crack fic, and I'm rather very proud of it so I hope you enjoy it as well.

Where Overreaction Meets Sam Winchester And They Live Happily Ever After by LazyBaker - Rated T

Dean is suddenly eating healthy and the world (i.e. Sam) is not prepared for such change.

nightlight by fleeceframe - Rated G

But the thing is, as he gets closer, he has to blink his eyes to make sure he’s seeing things right. Because that’s definitely Jimmy’s body slumped over against the trunk of one of the apple trees, but floating above him is- well, it’s a floating light, a sphere with a one-foot diameter, just hanging out at Dean’s chest level. Dean approaches it carefully with a furrowed brow and half-raised hackles. “Cas?” Dean prompts slowly. “Is that-” And the orb is glowing out sweet and white like it could easily be used to keep away the dark in a child’s nursery. It’s so welcoming. Like Dean could just reach out, out, and catch that gentleness in his hands without any sort of consequence. “Hello, Dean,” the orb hums. or the one where cas gets expelled from his vessel and he isn't as much of a dude as dean thought he was

Something Dumb to Do by PorcupineGirl - Rated T

Dean sits back in his chair, drinking his coffee and watching Castiel. After a few moments, he realizes that the soft, mellow feeling in his chest is… contentment. He's not happy in the way that a little kid is happy at their birthday party, or even in the way that he is when Cas or Sam has been miraculously brought back to life after one of the long string of disasters in their lives. He's happy in a new and different way. And has been, maybe, for a while now. Nearly as long as Cas has been living here, human, in the bunker. And then Dean Winchester has a moment of absolute clarity.

Bee Mine by solisdraconis - Rated G

Castiel is human for the first time. He faces all kinds of new human challenges, like picking out birthday presents, hangovers, and the flu. Good thing Dean is there to help him through it. Gadreel never happened and Cas never got kicked out of the bunker. And he met Charlie. How things should have gone, of course.

love (is a burning thing) by rupertgayes - Rated E

Dean doesn’t know why it started, and unlike his brainiac of a brother, he’s not exactly cracking open a psych textbook to find out. People have their things, that’s just how it goes - you like it rough, you like toys or melted wax or feathers, you can’t get it up unless your partner’s wearing a sailor outfit, whatever. If the spirit is willing, who cares? Dean just wishes some of his things weren’t so fucking embarrassing. Or: Dean likes Johnny Cash songs. A lot. More than he should. And then he meets a certain angel with a very deep voice...

I'm Dreamin' of a Grey Christmas by almaasi - Rated G

Coming in from the snow, Dean notices Cas now has a streak of grey in his hair. Angels don't get older. But Cas has been getting older for years. Is this a loophole that can save him from his deal with the Empty? Or is "adorably middle-aged" just another thing to add to the seven million reasons Dean wants to kiss him?

Enemies Closer by almaasi - Rated T

A "You caught me keying the wrong car in our middle-school parking lot, but when you found out my motivation you wanted to help me... except now we're both complicit in the same crime, and we have the power to end each other's teaching careers – and as they say, keep your friends close but your enemies closer – sooooo is a nerdy date at your after-school A.V. club close enough for you?" AU

He Called Me Honey by almaasi - Rated G

After having a weird dream in which he kisses Cas, Dean accidentally discusses the matter with Sam over pancakes. (Then Cas shows up. Dean is a flustered mess.)