#and my coven's meeting the day after

[allmoshnobrain]

why is my life always so busy

[d-z20]

The Familiar's Return (NSFW)

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x Rio Vidal x Reader

Summary: After a quiet night takes an unexpected turn, you find yourself drawn back into the orbit of two witches who once owned your soul. Your bond as their Familiar begins to pull tighter, reigniting flames you’d long buried. In the shadows of magic and desire, you must navigate old connections, simmering tension, and a power that refuses to let you go.

- OR -

You flirt with Alice to make Agatha and Rio jealous so they fuck you to put you back in your place

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, bratty reader, top agathario, magical restraints, smidge of begging, mention of orgasm denial, fingering (Reader recv)

Words: 3.7k

A/N: totally didn’t write reader flirting with Alice because I want to flirt with her. This was written for this request that's been sat in my inbox for a while oops

AO3 | Masterlist

You’re lying on your bed, unwinding after a long, mundane day. A book in your hands, a mug of tea on the bedside table—just another ordinary evening. But then your eyelids grow heavy, and the pull of sleep becomes too much. You set the book down, curling into the warmth of your bed and closing your eyes for a moment...

The next thing you know, you’re waking up with a groan. You blink a few times, confusion clouding your mind. It’s dark, but the air feels different—charged somehow. You stretch and sit up, a little too quickly. That’s when you hear a voice above you.

"Uhhhh, guys, does the road usually have people just lying around sleeping?"

You blink again. The road? You glance around, confusion rising. This isn’t your room. You’re not even in your house. Instead, you’re on a strange dirt path, surrounded by towering trees that stretch endlessly in every direction, bathed in an eerie, otherworldly light.

You rub your eyes. That’s when you see her: Rio Vidal, one of your old owners.

She grins, flashing a wild, flirtatious smile. She’s clearly surprised, but there’s no hiding her amusement at seeing you again. “Well, well, look who decided to show up.”

The familiar tug at your soul confirms it: Agatha is here too. You don’t even need to see her to feel the connection. That bond... it’s been so long. You’d almost forgotten how strong it could be.

That must be how you ended up here. Their reunion summoning you to their side. Just when you thought you were free of their messes. Fucking brilliant.

Before you can finish that thought, a witch with red streaks in her hair walks over, frowning down at you.

“Who the hell are you, and what are you doing on the Witches’ Road?”

You freeze. The Witches’ Road? You knew it to be a con—something Agatha had fabricated to further her own power. But this place? It looks real. Too real. So what the hell are they doing here? And where exactly is here?

"Hey, answer the question!" The witch snaps, her tone sharper this time. "Who are you, and what are you doing here?"

You smirk up at her, unbothered. “Oh, just your average wanderer, looking for a bit of fun.” You stand up, brushing yourself off and raising an eyebrow at the confused faces around you. “I’m Y/N, by the way. Familiar extraordinaire, at your service.” You bow, bringing her hand to your lips for a playful kiss. “I was Agatha’s and Rio’s little pet back in the day.”

The witch blushes at your gesture, and the rest of the coven stares at you, unsure how to respond. But before anyone can say anything, Agatha’s voice cuts through the awkward silence.

“Alice, sit back down,” she orders, before her attention shifts to you. “What are you doing here, Y/N?”

You meet her gaze, a cocky grin spreading across your face. “Guess I got summoned by your delightful company,” you say, glancing at Rio. “Seems like the connection still works, even after all this time.”

You cock your head to the side, glancing around at the others. "Well, this is... interesting. Always thought the Witches’ Road was a little too good to be real, right, Agatha?" You wink at her, and Rio laughs from beside Agatha, clearly entertained by your antics.

"Oh, this is definitely real," Rio says with a smirk. "Good to see you haven’t changed."

You flash a wicked grin. "Oh, you have no idea just how much I’ve changed, darling." The words hang heavy with implication. Before, you’d followed them around like a loyal, obedient plaything. Not anymore. Tonight, you were going to have some fun with them.

As the others chat, you notice Alice still watching you. Her gaze is intense; curiosity piqued.

You sit next to her, leaning back and crossing your arms to flex your muscles. “I have to admit, I’m intrigued by you, Alice. What's your story? I’ve always had a soft spot for women with a bit of edge.”

Alice blushes again, trying to maintain composure.

Rio laughs, clearly enjoying the way you’re provoking Agatha. She plays along, her voice laced with amusement. “You are exactly their type, Alice,” she says with a wink.

Agatha glares at you from across the fire, but there’s something more in her eyes—a flicker of jealousy she can’t hide. It’s that same old dance, and you’ve missed it. You love pushing her buttons, even when she tries to act indifferent.

Alice clears her throat, breaking the tension. She eyes the symbol on your arm, her voice dipping into something more serious. “That mark... what is it? Some sort of spell?” She lifts her sleeve to reveal a small tattoo. “My mother made me get this. Protection, she said.”

You glance at her arm, then back to her face, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “Protection, huh? That’s cute.”

You lean in just a little, your fingers tracing lightly over her tattoo. “But no, my mark isn’t a spell. It’s the sign of a familiar. A scar that binds your soul to another.”

You let the words sink in, your fingers lingering a moment too long on her skin. Alice shivers slightly, caught off guard by your touch, her breath hitching. You enjoy the effect you’re having on her, the flush on her face making it all the more satisfying.

“So,” you ask teasingly, “do all you witches have a little family tradition of getting tattoos, or is that just an Alice thing?”

Alice laughs nervously, trying to hide her growing discomfort, but you can see the tension building. She’s trying so hard to stay in control, but you’re making it harder and harder to resist.

The rest of the coven continues chatting, but you remain focused on Alice, your body language making your intentions clear. You lean in closer, your touch deliberate, your words sweet but laced with something far less innocent.

You glance over at Agatha and Rio, seeing jealousy on both of their faces now. You knew flirting with someone else would get a rise out of them. Agatha’s eyes narrow, while Rio hides her irritation behind a smirk.

But Agatha’s had enough. She stands abruptly, her voice laced with fury. “Alright, pet,” she says, her tone unmistakably warning. “We need to have a word.”

You stand, cocking an eyebrow at her. “Oh, do we now? I’m not sure I’m in the mood for a ‘word.’”

Before you can protest further, Rio grabs your arm, pulling you away from the fire and into the shadows, out of the coven’s sight.

“I guess duty calls,” you tease, glancing back at the others as Rio pulls you further into the dark.

Once you’re out of sight, Agatha steps forward, her eyes smouldering with frustration. “You’ve been all over her since you got here,” she growls, her voice thick with something possessive. “Have you forgotten you belong to us?”

You pull back, laughing lightly. “Oh, really? You think I’m just going to roll over and—”

Before you can finish, Rio’s lips crash against yours—hard and demanding. Agatha follows suit, her kiss searing as she pulls you between them. The bond crackles to life around you, familiar and undeniable. Oh, how you’ve missed this.

You give in for a moment, allowing yourself to be swept up in the intensity. But then, with a mischievous smirk, you pull away. “As much as I’m enjoying this,” you say, breathless, “I’d rather be doing it with Alice.” You turn on your heel, leaving them standing in stunned silence. It was a lie, of course. Another taunt to see how far you can push them before they make you submit.

Agatha calls after you, fury and desire mixing in her voice. “You can’t just walk away from us.”

You roll your eyes, halting mid-step and turning to face them. “Oh, am I supposed to beg for your attention, Agatha? Like the good old days?”

Rio steps in, her playful side still evident as she pulls you closer. “We’re giving you the option to do it willing; we could just make you. You’re still our familiar, after all.”

pleasemakemepleasemakemepleasemakemepleasemakemepleasemakeme

You lean back, eyes glittering with defiance. "I’m not begging for anything from either of you." At least not yet. You turn and walk back to the fire.

As you sit, you flick your wrist, conjuring up a spread of food and drink. The coven watches in awe, unsure how to process your sudden display of magic.

You smirk, explaining with a sly grin, “Being a familiar means I can do things other witches can’t. Just a perk of the job.”

The coven, unsure whether to be impressed or confused, starts reaching for drinks and food, the alcohol loosening them up. Soon, laughter fills the air, and their earlier wariness is forgotten.

You continue to flirt with Alice, enjoying every blush you pull from her, knowing you’ll face the consequences later.

—

By the time the fire burns low and the coven is scattered around in various states of drunken stupor, you’re left with Agatha and Rio—both simmering with desire, their eyes locked on you.

"Okay, you’ve had your fun," Rio murmurs, voice thick with something darker. "But now, it’s our turn."

Agatha steps closer, her lips curling into a sly smirk as she tilts her head, eyes dark with challenge. "Still think you’re in control, pet?" she purrs, her voice low and full of authority. 

Before you can retort, Rio sidesteps you, her presence a heat against your back. Her fingers trail along your shoulders, her touch feather-light, but there’s no mistaking the strength behind it. Her voice, husky and teasing, whispers close to your ear. "Oh, love, you don’t seem to understand. This is our game, and you don’t get to change the rules."

You scoff, trying to summon some of that bravado from earlier.

But before you can say anything, Rio’s magic snaps into place. Vines, glowing faintly with her energy, erupt from the earth, curling around your ankles and locking you in place. You glance down, startled, but the roots are unyielding, pulsing with her power. You tug once, then twice, and realise you’re trapped.

Agatha moves to stand in front of you, her piercing gaze meeting yours. She doesn’t touch you, but the weight of her presence alone has your pulse quickening. "Not so bold now, are we?" she says, her tone mocking, but there’s an undeniable heat behind her words.

Rio leans against you from behind, her lips brushing the shell of your ear as her hands rest on your hips, holding you firmly. "Don’t worry," she murmurs, her voice almost soothing if not for the edge of danger. "We’ll remind you where you belong."

To your shock, they don’t focus on you. Instead, Agatha steps into Rio’s space, their lips meeting in a slow, deliberate kiss, filled with hunger and command. It’s magnetic, their power crackling in the air, and you feel your body react against your will, heat flooding to your core, and you squeeze your legs together.

"Enjoying the view?" Agatha asks, her voice dripping with amusement as she pulls back just enough to smirk at you.

While your time apart means they’ve lost the ability to peer into your mind, they can still pick up on your feelings, especially when they’re this strong.

You glare, trying to fight the growing heat pooling in your core, but your voice betrays you. "Is that all you’ve got?" you challenge, though your voice wavers slightly.

Rio chuckles, a rich, sultry sound that sends a shiver down your spine. "Still so defiant. Let’s see how long that lasts." With a small twitch of her finger, the vines force your legs apart, removing what little relief you had given yourself.

Agatha leans in again, her kiss with Rio deepening, more passionate now, as if daring you to watch, to feel your own irrelevance in the moment. You bite your lip, fighting the whimper, threatening to escape as you struggle against the vines keeping you rooted.

And then, Rio’s magic flares again. The roots tighten, pulling you slightly forward, locking you in place with perfect precision to watch them. Your arms tingle with the same sensation, her magic wrapping around your wrists as if sensing you might lash out.

Agatha glances back at you, her eyes alight with mischief. "What’s the matter, love? Jealous?" She tilts her head mockingly. "You didn’t seem to want our attention before, did you? Now you’re going to beg for it."

You feel a flush of frustration mixed with undeniable arousal. "I don’t beg," you snap, though the words lack conviction.

Rio arches an eyebrow, turning just enough to glance at you. "Oh, you will." Her voice is a promise, smooth and unrelenting. She leans back into Agatha, her hands trailing along the other witch’s waist, pulling her closer. Suddenly your legs feel cold and you look down to see your pants have vanished. There’s a vine snaking its way up your leg and between your thighs. It starts to stroke up and down your crotch, and you buck your hips trying to get more pressure. You thought you’d gained at least a scrap of dignity after all those years apart, yet here you are grinding down on a fucking plant, making it impossibly wet from your arousal, just because they’re making out in front of you.

Their kisses grow hungrier, more deliberate, and every movement feels calculated to remind you of your place. The tension in the air is suffocating, their bond radiating power and control. You watch as Agatha’s nails rake lightly down Rio’s back, eliciting a small gasp from the witch.

You tug harder at the magical restraints, a desperate sound bubbling in your throat despite your pride. Your body betrays you, heat pooling in every nerve as the intensity of their connection pulls at something deep within you.

Agatha turns to you again, her lips swollen from Rio’s kisses, her smirk sharper than ever. "Say it," she commands simply, her voice firm but not unkind.

You shake your head stubbornly, your pride warring with the growing need inside you. "Not a chance," you manage, though your voice is barely a whisper.

Rio chuckles again, her magic tightening the restraints around you just enough to keep you aware of how completely at their mercy you are. She presses a kiss to Agatha’s neck, murmuring something you can’t quite hear but feel in the air—a promise, a plan.

They turn to you together now, their combined presence overwhelming. Agatha steps closer, her hand reaching out to cup your chin, forcing you to meet her eyes. "You’re trembling," she observes, her tone teasing. Her fingers trail down your jaw, leaving a tingling heat in their wake. "You can end this, you know. All you have to do is beg."

You bite your lip, your pride a fragile shield against their dominance. "I don’t—"

Rio cuts you off, her magic surging, pulling you taut against the vines. "Try again," she says softly, but the threat in her tone is clear.

Agatha’s lips brush against your ear, her breath warm and sending shivers down your spine. "Say it, pet. Or maybe we’ll just leave you here to simmer while we enjoy each other properly."

The thought sends a sharp pang through you; the idea of being left out, of missing their touch, their power, their presence, is more unbearable than you want to admit. Your resolve crumbles just slightly, enough for your voice to tremble as you whisper, "Please..."

Agatha’s eyes light up, her smirk widening as she leans back to survey you. "Not good enough," she chides.

Rio steps in, her hands on your shoulders now, grounding you. "Louder, love," she purrs. "We want to hear it."

Your pride shatters under their combined weight, and you finally let the words tumble from your lips. "Please, Agatha... Rio... I—" You swallow hard, your voice cracking with a mixture of need and surrender. "I need you. Please."

Rio lets the magical restraints fall away, disappearing into the ground, and Agatha’s lips come crashing down on yours. The kiss is fierce, hungry—more than just a reclaiming, it's a possession. You feel your mark burn with desire, the familiar sting that always came with them, only this time it’s more intense, more urgent. They embrace you fully now, and you melt into the sensation, every inch of you on fire, every breath shared between the three of you.

Rio’s hands are everywhere, teasing, possessive, pulling you tighter against her. She presses you into Agatha’s chest, feeling the magic thrumming in your veins, making every part of you ache for more. Agatha’s fingers tangle in your hair, tilting your head back, allowing Rio to trail kisses down your throat, her teeth grazing your skin, setting your nerves ablaze. It’s overwhelming, all-consuming—your resistance dissolving entirely under their combined touch.

The moment Rio pushes a finger inside you, you feel your walls tighten immediately. A benefit of being their familiar was how easily they could make you cum; the downside was it also meant they were the only people who could make you cum, so in all your decades apart, you haven’t been able to climax even once. Talk about orgasm denial.

They can feel your desire, the way your body trembles in anticipation, and they’re more than happy to give you exactly what you need. Rio, her eyes burning with possessive hunger, inserts another finger, pressing her palm firmly against your clit. Her fingers flex, teasing, sending waves of heat through you as they start to move, driving you crazy with the slow, deliberate pressure. Every touch from her feels like an electrifying promise, like the world is collapsing into the space between you. You can barely focus, drowning in the sensation as she doesn’t stop, guiding you into a rhythm that has you gasping for more.

Meanwhile, Agatha is relentless. Her lips find yours again, but this time it’s different—her kiss is sharper, more urgent. She bites down on your bottom lip, hard enough to sting, but it’s the kind of pain you crave, the kind of roughness that always ignites something dark and hungry within you. You gasp, the sensation intensifying as she takes advantage of your breathless moment. Her teeth graze your lip one more time, a reminder that she holds the power in this dance.

Before you can process, she pushes her tongue into your mouth, deep and possessive. The kiss becomes an exploration, a claim, as Agatha takes what she wants, making sure you feel every movement, every shift of her body against yours. You kiss her back hungrily, matching her intensity, responding to the pull of her control. It’s familiar—this frantic need to give in, to let go, to surrender. And yet, it feels different this time—there’s no escape, no hesitation, only the heat of their presence enveloping you, pulling you further under their spell.

Your breath hitches as Rio shifts her focus, pressing harder into you, moving with purpose, her touch as commanding as Agatha’s kiss. It’s a beautiful chaos—the push and pull of their desire, the control they hold over you. You can’t tell where one touch ends and the other begins, everything blending together into one overwhelming sensation that leaves you gasping for air, for more.

"That's it," Agatha murmurs against your lips, her voice low and throaty. "You’ll always be ours, and ours alone."

The words sink deep, pushing you past the breaking point. You finally let go completely, surrendering to the tidal wave of sensation. Your entire body tenses, every nerve lit up with a white-hot intensity as you reach your peak. It’s as if time itself halts in reverence of the moment, and all you can feel is them—their hands, their lips, their presence anchoring you even as they unravel you. It’s overwhelming, raw, and impossible to contain. Your breath catches, breaking into a shuddering gasp as your orgasm consumes you, leaving you trembling in their hold.

The aftermath is a blur of warmth and relief, your body melting against theirs as the world slowly rights itself. Still high on the ecstasy of your climax, clarity seeps in through the haze. For the first time in what feels like forever, you let yourself think about how much you’ve missed them—not just their touch, but them, the soul-deep connection that once defined your bond. The longing you’d buried, the emptiness you’d ignored, rushes to the surface, overwhelming in its magnitude.

Agatha’s voice cuts through the quiet, low and familiar, sending shivers down your spine. “We’ve missed you too.”

You blink, startled, because her lips haven’t moved. The realisation strikes you like a spark catching flame—they’re in your mind again. The bond has fully reignited, glowing brighter than ever, their thoughts brushing against yours like the softest caress.

A grin tugs at your lips, even as a lump forms in your throat. For so long, you’ve felt stretched too thin, as though your soul had grown just a little too large, leaving a space that nothing else could fill. You hadn’t realised just how incomplete you’d been until now, until this. With them.

For the first time in what feels like forever, the missing pieces are back in place. The weight of their presence settles over you, grounding and comforting, like the steady pulse of a heartbeat you’d forgotten you needed. You close your eyes and lean into them, basking in the completeness of it, a smile playing at your lips as the warmth of their bond wraps around you.

Rio chuckles softly, her fingers brushing through your hair. “You feel it too, don’t you?”

You nod, not trusting your voice. There’s no need to say anything. They already know, as deeply and completely as you do. Whatever comes next, you’re no longer alone—and that, more than anything, is what you’ve missed the most.

-----

I know you didn't ask for the soft finish but I'm an absolute sucker for a happy ending

[multimilfs]

Lilia Calderu x Fem!Reader: In Omnibus Aequitas

Summary: Agatha isn't the only witch with a force of nature trailing after her.

AO3

A/N: oh my god i can't explain how excited i am to post this! so much thought and careful crafting went into this!! actually begging someone to ask for the TED talk on my planning process for this because hooooo boy

this is my first time writing Lilia, so apologies if the characterization is shaky at all!

also to give credit where credit is due, the idea for this Reader was prompted by a post from the brilliant trickofthelights, whom i admire greatly. i'll attach the post here

Tag List: @emiliaisdead @kenzie-floops @nightmare-of-homophobes @thepotatoislost @mckiejames @women-are-so-ethereal @galaxydreamer468 @angeliccss @goldenautomaton @asolitaryrose3 @multifandomfix @ghostsunderstoodmysoul @escapetodreamworld

Warning(s): None

Shadows often linger in the periphery of Lilia’s vision; this she has grown to accept, on the basis that they are gone when she turns to face them. And she is glad of it each time. The twisted shapes and figures of the primordial horrors that linger are not made to be witnessed, even by her eyes.

So when a figure lingers, she turns with the expectation of seeing the silhouette vanish, but she’s not the only one who turns.

It strikes her as odd that Rio should see whatever she does. This thought occurs to her mid-ballad, fire licking at the back of her neck. When she looks, though, the figure does not vanish, but neither is it a horror to behold.

You are as beautiful as she remembers. The memory, coupled with your eyes on her, nearly trips her up. But Lilia holds strong through the rest of Lorna’s ballad—even as the burns on her shoulders ache, even as your eyes dart away and meet the curious gaze belonging to Rio, even, even as you watch her with that unerring devotion she had once craved.

When Alice tilts her head back, singing with the full force of her soul, Lilia’s eyes leave you. She watches the curse burn to ash above Alice.

You’re gone when Lilia glances back.

---

Sharon, human she may have been, was right about one thing—no witch can be expected to traverse the road without rest. So, the coven opts to take turns keeping watch around the little fire they’ve built.

Lilia volunteers for the first watch, restless, feeling the weight of eyes on her still. She should’ve known you wouldn’t stay away long.

Your entrance comes when the rest of the coven has fallen asleep; Jen and Alice on one side of the fire, propped up against the rock they sat upon, Agatha furthest from the fire, back to it, while Rio—if that is her true name—sleeps near enough to lay a hand on her waist. Teen, she assumes, remains in the makeshift bed they made for him.

She sees your shadow at the edge of the clearing, hesitant. Looking over her coven one last time, she stands, and walks to where you wait outside the light.

“What do you want?”

You reach out, a hand on either side of Lilia’s face. She doesn’t shake you off. Yet.

“You’re as beautiful as the day I left.” You murmur.

Lilia’s lip curls, “Are your brutal truths meant to be endearing?”

“No. They’re meant to be nothing more than what they are.”

Against all odds, Lilia has yet to throw off your hold. You run your thumb gently over the curve of her jaw. Everything in you wants to kiss her—has dreamt of it for over a century—but you know it won’t be welcome.

Her curls are frayed and wild around her face in an endearing picture. Mess suits her just as well as refinement; though that could be your bias talking.

“Why are you here?” Lilia asks.

“Because you’re here.” And because your job brought you here, but that’s less romantic.

She seems to sense the omission. Any warmth drains from her expression, her hands removing yours from her person. You miss the closeness immediately.

“A truth and a lie. Which will come next?”

“It wasn’t a lie. I could’ve been anywhere.”

“Then go there. But leave the coven out of this.”

“I have no choice, Lilia.”

Lilia scoffs, “You had a choice when you vanished for a century!”

You close your eyes against the reminder. Hurt flares through you. The ache from years of longing, feeling that veil between you exist so thin, yet being unable to reach through. You hadn’t even been allowed a glimpse.

It was torment. A century should have been easy, but a life without Lilia felt like clawing your way through. If you tell her, will she believe you?

“Please.” You whisper. You’re not sure what you’re asking for.

“Goodnight.”

You hear her walk away, can’t stop yourself from blurting, despite the consequences, “Please, don’t put yourself in harm's way.”

Her jaw is tight, eyes wary. She looks you over as if something about you will give away what you know.

She crosses her arms over her chest. You recognize it as both a way to keep you out and support herself. You ache to be let back in.

“This whole Road is a death wish.”

“Don’t put yourself in more danger than normal.” You say, then, smaller, “I can’t protect you.”

“Are you asking for my sake or your own?”

“Whichever you’ll listen to.”

“Why ask at all?”

You step forward, hands outstretched to take hers, but you stop short, “Because I love you, Lilia.”

The admission makes her flinch. Her eyes water and she swallows hard. For a fleeting moment you see the startling vulnerability behind her eyes—the loneliness you should have quelled—before she locks it away.

“You can’t love.” Lilia sneers, “It would tip the scales too much.”

“That’s not true.” You defend.

“Oh? Then who, in this wretched universe, have you decided to hate?”

You bite your tongue. Lilia takes your silence for its own—incorrect—answer. Bitterness creeps into her smile.

“Goodnight.”

---

“Here to watch the big show?” Rio asks, lagging behind while the others move forward.

“Just doing my job.”

“Really? I’d say things were pretty square when you showed up.”

You eye her, despising her knowing smile, “Why are you here?”

“My job.”

“Hm. And how many bodies have you collected, again?”

Her smile is wide, but her eyes are cold. She’s always despised that the two of you are equals; that she can’t add you to her menagerie of bodies. Just the same, you’ve despised that you can’t write her name down.

Agatha looks back and tilts her head. You know she can’t see you. Like nothing has happened, Rio turns that grin on Agatha, skipping back to her side.

You catch Lilia’s eyes on you and ignore the question in them.

---

Lilia watches. She follows you in her periphery, makes note of where you are at all times. Her eyes always dart to your hands. Every time she finds them empty, she relaxes.

She’s taken watch, again. You read the weariness in her posture.

Against your better judgment, you lay your hands on her shoulders. She doesn’t shrug them off.

“You need rest as much as they do, beloved.” You murmur.

She stiffens at the old endearment, “We’re splitting the time. I’ll manage.”

You run a hand through her hair. The curls are still loose, wild. You untangle a few of them. Squeezing her shoulder, you place a kiss to the top of her head, savoring the closeness.

For a moment, your hand quivers. You still it. Your punishment was endured with grace, you must endure the distance with the same.

“Sleep. I’ll watch over you.”

Lilia scoffs, “Right.”

The weight of her mistrust is like a knife in your chest. You do not endure the pain with grace; you flinch, tears springing unbidden to your eyes. Lilia’s eyes close in regret.

You wonder if your presence is more of a burden than blessing. Had you mistaken her intent all those years ago? Love is not an emotion that’d come to you naturally. Perhaps, in your learning, you misunderstood, and Lilia’s kind heart wouldn’t allow her to break your illusion.

She had loved you once, hadn’t she? You could swear she had.

“You have to know I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“Unless the greater universe calls for it.”

Her tone is honest, but sadness lingers within it. All you want is to see her face.

“If I thought it would do you any favors, I’d throw it all away.” You admit in a whisper.

Lilia turns, then. Her brows are furrowed as her eyes search your own, frantic, swimming with fear. In another time and place, you’d follow the statement with a smirk; but you cannot bring yourself to summon the facade now, not with her.

It isn’t a lie—your admission. If not for the overturning of the world without you, you’d forsake the job on your shoulders. You’d unmake yourself in a moment for her. For the younger witch who sang freely and lamented her gifts. For the wizened witch who eyes you with trepidation, mind rife with your betrayals and shortcomings.

“Where are your lies?” She asks.

“I tell them to myself, so you can have all my truths.”

Lilia smiles then, but it’s bittersweet. A warm hand settles on your cheek. You can’t help it—grace be damned—when you press yourself into the contact. They’re still there—the callouses you remember, rough against your flesh. She still smells of smoke.

There’s a rustling of fabric across the space. Alice shifts, sitting up and rubbing at her eyes. Lilia’s touch is gone from you. You settle next to her as she rests, not brave enough to lay another hand upon her.

---

You watch the knife fall as if time has slowed; absently, you think it might be, Time always did love her cruel jokes. It falls with Teen in the direct path. You feel the pen heavy in your hand, the paper near-weightless and yet the heaviest thing you’ve come to bear.

But then Lilia moves. The one moment you need time to slow for you, it’s returned to normal. Lilia shoves Teen out of the way and takes his place in the dagger’s path.

You fall to your knees, “No!”

Throwing your arms out, you aim a burst of magic for the dagger. Consequences be damned. Alice is faster, though, and moves Lilia from the dagger’s path before your magic can make contact.

Rio’s eyes are heavy on you. She can’t do anything—you didn’t technically break any rules, but the intent is damning enough.

“Now this is going to be fun.” Rio purrs.

You stare at the pen and blank paper you dropped in your haste to save Lilia. Your purpose. How close you’d come to unmaking yourself and yet… yet, a part of you is ambivalent to this. The larger part is freaking out, though.

Everyone’s eyes are on you. You flinch. They shouldn’t be able to see you.

Checking your mental list of active charms, you realize you’ve made an error; in your grief-induced act of heroism, you dropped every single charm on your person and directed the energy toward Lilia. The cat’s out of the bag, it would seem.

Lilia is the first to recover, moving out of Alice’s protective hold, “Do you ever think?”

You bristle, yet to stand from your kneeling position. It gives her an advantage over you this once.

“Well and often.” You defend.

“Well?” She questions, beautiful in her terror and rage, “You call that thinking well? You could’ve been killed!”

“You were in danger, Lilia.”

“And you’re not allowed to interfere.”

Ignoring all the eyes on the two of you, Lilia turns and storms through the exit that opened. You watch the road-conjured costume melt back into her normal visage as she gets further away.

It’s then that you recognize the silence.

All of them are staring at you save for Agatha, who eyes Rio with a mixture of trepidation and understanding. You stand as gracefully as you can manage. Smoothing down your clothes, you try to smile, but the action feels slippery on your features. How long has it been?

“What is it with you witches and beautiful mysteries?” Jen asks, “And where can I get one?”

You flush and fidget. The weight of their attention is so much less pleasant than your beloved’s.

Alice tilts her head, “Who are you?”

Holding out your hand, you speak your name. Rio laughs. You blush, remembering that mortal creatures don’t comprehend the original language, not like the two of you. Lilia once said it sounded like botched latin. The coven exchanges various looks of confusion.

“Lilia just calls me—”

“A pain.” Lilia’s voice cuts in, “A very severe, persistent pain. Are you all coming?”

You’re the first to follow, which prompts no shortage of grumbling. You find yourself grinning.

---

“Well, at least we have extra help on The Road.” Jen shrugs, later.

“She can’t help.” Lilia and Rio say in unison.

The two share a look. You can read the distaste in Lilia’s eyes. She doesn’t seem to think much of Rio, not that you do either—and you actually know her.

“Seemed pretty eager to help you, Lilia.”

“A foolish, misguided mistake on her part.”

You flinch at the statement, staring down at your hands. With the charms gone, you witness their true appearance; one completely dark, as if left to char in ember, the other so pale-white it is near translucent.

The beauty of a mortal body with a mortal heart is a range of emotion you’d have never felt before. Though lately, the gift feels more like a burden. Pain is your ever-present companion these days. Even when you look at your beloved, the love that overtakes you is laced with poison; with the reminder of what you had to do.

You can’t bring yourself to wish away the heart in your chest. But you do wish Lilia would be a bit more gentle with it. You’re hardly in the position to make requests, though.

“I can assist in small ways. Taking a watch at night, tending the fire.”

“No.” Lilia shuts you down. You freeze, “You are to do nothing but observe. Have I made myself clear?”

“Yes, beloved.”

You ignore the look between Alice and Jen.

---

The end of The Road is so near you can practically taste it. It tastes of rot and chaos, but you put that down as a symptom of your disposition. You watch Lilia and the rest of the coven relax, inhaling deeply.

A smile teases at Lilia’s lips.

“What do you smell?” You whisper.

The smile doesn’t vanish as you expect. Rather, it extends to her eyes as she regards you.

“Your perfume.”

You melt. Knees like jelly, you take her hand in your own, and press a kiss to the back of it, ignoring the eyes on the two of you. The Witches Road will give you what you most desire at the end. And before the last trial, it gives the traveler a taste of what their prize is. She can’t reach the end without knowing the truth.

“This body wasn’t mine, did you know that?” You ask. Her expression shifts as she grows a bit more tense in your hold. You hold tighter, “The witch before me had a little over a century left in her when I came. As payment, I had to serve out the rest of her years without the one thing that made it feel like living.”

The words are tumbling from you faster than you can comprehend them. You watch her face, hoping that what you’re stringing together makes enough sense for her to see. Even if it takes some other force whispering the facts into her ear for her to understand, you’ll just be happy that she knows.

Lilia’s the brightest witch you’ve ever known. She’ll figure out what you’re saying, but you just can’t stop; you need to say the words you’ve been dying to say for all these years.

“I never wanted to leave you, beloved.”

There’s no privacy on this cursed road, but you don’t care. If she asked it of you, you’d tell every soul you met how you love her. Lilia Calderu owns your heart, but even more than that, she owns your soul, and you have no desire to take it from her hands—even if she decides to rip it to pieces as repayment.

Let the coven know how you lived a century-long prison sentence to be with her. Let Rio and the greater powers know. You have no shame.

Lilia sneers, “You foolish woman.”

Her hands fist in the front of your shirt and pull your lips to hers. It’s messy; a clash of teeth and lips and noses, a poor imitation of the world-tipping kisses the two of you have found in one another. You’re both horribly out of practice. Never let it be said, however, that passion does not make up for tact. The near-quivering of Lilia’s grip and the force of intent behind her kiss makes up for any clumsiness.

The time on The Road has left her lips chapped, bitter with the remnants of lipstick, and never before have you known something so utterly perfect. You wrap your arms around her waist and pull her close enough that not a breath can exist between you. She sighs against your lips.

A curse of a mortal body is the functions that a higher being like yourself wouldn’t deem necessary; in this case, the need your lungs have for oxygen. Your heart is beating out of your chest and not from desire.

You pull back, panting, forehead resting against Lilia’s.

Breath successfully acquired, you tilt your head and press your lips to Lilia’s cheek, her temple, her forehead—anywhere you can reach, murmuring, reverent, “Lilia. My Lilia.”

“Darling.” She whispers with every kiss, voice hushed with devotion.

A lifetime apart seen to its end. Your fingers still itch with the pent up desire to hold her despite doing so. You were shameless before, but now… Gods help her.

Rio watches the entire display with shameless interest. Her eyebrows are high, a small, curious smile on her lips. Teen had been the first to turn away and busy himself with watching The Road. Somewhere mid-kiss, the remaining three found something more pressing to devote their attention to.

The lack of seeing, however, does not stop Jen from sighing, “When will it be my turn?”

Alice laughs at her side.

---

“Did you know all along?”

Lilia looks up at Agatha’s hushed question. She takes in the messy, haggard, but satisfied look of her fellow witch. She also catches the look Agatha throws your way. You sit across the clearing, Teen at your side, listening with rapt attention as you explain something about the moon.

“I had a suspicion when you mentioned my fortune.” Lilia admits.

A suspicion. A burgeoning hope she hadn’t let herself acknowledge.

“Oh?”

“What is fortune if not a lack of balance?” She shrugs, unable to look away from you, “To change it meant the end of my pain.”

“Enter, your solution.”

“Solution and problem.”

The two share a wry laugh. Lilia’s careful not to ask any pointed questions about Rio, though curiosity does eat away at her. Is anyone better suited to appreciate her experience?

Rio, while polarizing, is beautiful—and seems to have attached herself to Agatha in a way best suited to the witch. There is a beauty in it. Though she admits she’ll always prefer your well-meaning brutality over that which Agatha receives. To each their own.

“The Road seems to play favorites, giving you your prize early.” Agatha muses.

“Having her isn’t the prize,” Lilia corrects, “keeping her is.”

Agatha hums, eyes contemplative.

You’re aware of the eyes on you from across the clearing, but pay it little attention, instead devoting yourself fully to the question Teen has asked you. Gesturing with your hands, you weave similarities between the First Coven and their own. He watches you with a starstruck expression.

Something in your conversation prompts him to tilt his head. He fiddles with the little spellbook attached to his hip. Your musings come to a natural close and he speaks up.

“Can I ask—why Lilia? I mean, she’s great, but I guess I don’t understand.” Teen changes the subject.

You smile.

“Do you know the average person’s response to upsetting the state of the world?” You ask. Teen thinks, then shakes his head, “There isn’t one. It doesn’t matter what they’ve undone in the grand scheme, they’re painfully ignorant of what they’ve done. And what’s worse, most don’t care.”

It’s an old grievance you have with the greater universe. You recognize the necessity of it, but will never deny how it grates on you.

“Lilia… Lilia spent a large part of her life as a harbinger of tragedy. She’d travel through villages and upturn their worlds with a prediction.” You sigh, chest aching with the pain you know she suffered, “But when she did, she always sought to fix it. There were times she leveled the scales so completely that I didn’t have to do a thing. Few had ever considered me in such a way before.”

You look up from your fidgeting hands to Lilia. Her eyes are already on you. The warm, steady weight of her gaze makes you melt.

“And the others, well, none of them were her.”

Teen nods, “That’s sweet. I think.”

You chuckle. In a moment of fondness, you ruffle the curls on his head. He rolls his eyes but allows the contact; how do you tell a force of nature no?

---

You stare back down The Road with the coven. Though the return journey will be without any of the usual hassles, you curse the greater powers for not just providing an exit door. Your feet are killing you.

Lilia looks weary despite having rested. You rub a hand over her back, working out the knots you find with a skilled hand. She sighs.

“Where do we go from here?” She asks.

You raise a brow, “Back to the start of The Road.”

Lilia glares, though it lacks significant heat, “Us, darling.”

Ah.

“Wherever you lead, beloved.”

“That’s a lot of control.”

“Give me a century or so and I’ll start making decisions again.”

Her fingers lace through your own. Lilia stares down the length of The Road she has traversed and conquered, yet the greatest battle lies beyond. The world will never again be the same for her.

You raise her hand to your lips. You press gentle kisses to the knuckles.

“To the return of your glory.” You murmur.

Lilia looks at you for a long moment. Using your hold, she pulls you down, into a short but mind-numbing kiss. You hold tight and sigh, content.

She corrects, “To the return of balance.”

[ariascoven]

⟡ HOME EARLY

PAIRING : mentor!agatha harkness x apprentice!reader

WARNINGS : legal age gap. female reader. petnames (sweetheart, hon, bunny, dear & little one). reader calls agatha mistress. smut. fingering & oral (reader receiving). little bit of praising. mention of strap-on.

WORD COUNT : 2.6k

MY MASTERLIST

You were a young witch, way younger than your mentor, Agatha Harkness, who was 350 years old. You had recently joined her coven, staying in your lane as much as possible during meetings — rare were the times you would speak to any other witch in the room other than Agatha herself. Perhaps you were more than her apprentice; living under her roof, cooking for her and keeping everything in order. The truth is, you owed her your life. She saved you when you needed most, when you were hopeless. The least you could do was serve her, right? Throughout the days, the sound of your voice calling out the word ‘Mistress’ was heard multiple times, making sure Agatha had everything she needed, that she was satisfied. When your elder was away, the day would be terribly boring. You would pace around the house, dusting the same places over and over again, sometimes picking out a story from her collection to pass the time and soon getting bored of it, putting the book back where it belonged.

The day she announced she would be away for a week, your world crumbled. You tried to bargain, make her take you with her, claiming your help would be needed. But she denied, ending the conversation with clearly no intention of changing her mind. Seven days, and they couldn't pass any longer. Each day seemed like it lasted 24 hours longer than the last. The levels of boredom got so high that you decided to get out of your comfort zone, talking to the neighbors and going to the local stores, socializing; but nothing seemed to fill the empty space inside you. You wondered why you missed her so much — trying to convince yourself it wasn't because you were smitten by the older witch, deeply in love with her.

Five days after your Mistress had left, you woke up in the middle of the night with the urge to go to the bathroom. It's normal for you to sleep in your underwear, putting on your black robe whenever you have to leave the bedroom at night when Agatha was around, but since she wasn't home, you sleepily made your way to the bathroom in nothing but your red lingerie that barely covered any skin. After washing your hands, you exited the bathroom rubbing your tired eyes with the back of your hand, yelping and jumping in surprise when you saw someone standing in front of you, holding onto the door frame for dear life. Then you heard that sound, a sound so familiar to you and that makes your core throb.

Then you heard that sound, a sound so familiar to you and that makes your core throb — the sound of Agatha’s low chuckle as she stood in the middle of the hallway with her arms crossed over her chest. You sighed in relief, putting your hand over your racing heart in an attempt to calm yourself down. You watched as the witch turned on the light, her infamous side smirk dancing across her lips. “Did I scare you, hon?” You couldn't help but smile at the sound of her voice, confused as to why she was back already, but definitely glad. With a sleepy yawn, you nodded your head. “You said you were going away for a week, Mistress. It's only been four days, did something happen?” You questioned, leaning against the doorframe. You felt your body shiver as the cold night air hit you, helping you finally remember what you had forgotten to do before going to bed — you forgot to close the damn window. Your cheeks flushed when you notice your mentor’s gaze on your body before meeting your eyes again, suddenly aware that you were half naked. “I thought the… situation I needed to handle would take more time, but I got it. Don't ask questions.”

The curiosity was eating you alive, but you knew better than to argue with your superior. You nodded, shifting uncomfortably and trying to shield yourself with your hands. Agatha’s smirk turned into a full grin as she uncrossed her own arms. Your breath hitched at her outfit; the sleeves of her shirt are rolled up to her elbows and the top two buttons are open, the fabric hugging her body perfectly. “Is there anything I can do for you, Mistress? You must be tired from… whatever you were doing.” You asked casually, licking your dry lips as you sauntered closer to Agatha, still too tired to notice the hunger reflecting from her eyes. She paused, biting her bottom lip as she glanced at your half naked figure once again. When her gaze met yours once more, a shiver ran down your spine and your heart started racing. She stepped closer, slowly, that devilish grin dancing on her lips. You stood there, unsure of what to do. She reached out to touch your cheek, your faces inches away. “That little outfit of yours suits you, my dear.” She said mischievously, her voice honeyed, blue eyes boring into yours.

You felt your heart skip a beat at her words, stuttering pathetically before finally succeeding at letting your words out. “This is how I sleep, Mistress.” Agatha raised her eyebrows at your statement as if she couldn't believe what you just said, her hand formerly on your cheek now resting on your neck. “You sleep like… that?” She nodded her head at your body and you blushed, humming in agreement. “That’s… interesting.” She removed her hand from your skin and turned on her heels, walking towards the kitchen and peeking at you over her shoulder. “Perhaps I should pay you a nighttime visit.” You stared at her in shock until she was out of sight.

You heard the fridge opening and an approving hum followed by shuffling noises. You quickly made your way to your room and grabbed your robe, putting it on to cover yourself not only from the cold air, but from Agatha's gaze as well. You made your way to the kitchen, standing at the door and watching the brunette woman as she ate an apple. “Careful, that might be poisoned.” You joked, missing the playful banters. She chuckled, looking up at you. “Guess we'll have to wait and see.” You giggled, strolling towards the kitchen counter where Agatha is and leaning over it. “Mistress, could you please pass me the—”

Before you could even finish your sentence, Agatha was already sliding the poptarts in your direction, eyes never leaving the newspaper resting on the counter. Your cheeks flushed slightly at how well your mentor knew you, shoving a poptart inside your mouth and eating quietly. “So… anything exciting happened while I was away, sweetheart?” You shook your head. “Did you do anything besides clean all day?” You shook your head again, causing the older woman to sigh dramatically. You looked down in embarrassment, fidgeting with your own fingers. “It's like you dedicate your entire life to me.” Her voice took on a husky tone as she spoke, her expression unreadable as she stared at you. You met her gaze, blushing at the realization she was correct. Your entire life was her. “Well, Mistress, it's the least I can do, you—”

“Saved your life, gave you a home, I know all that.” She waved a dismissive hand. “But there's something more, isn't there, bunny?” She purred, walking around the counter and stopping in front of you. “Something much deeper than gratitude. Isn't that right, hon?” She grinned wickedly, her finger slowly sliding down your cheek to your neck and leaving a trail of goosebumps behind. You were unable to speak, dizzy and weak. “Mistress…” you stuttered nervously as her fingers slowly wrapped around your neck; they didn't squeeze, just laying there comfortably, as if they simply belonged there. “Go on, little one, just admit it. Admit that you want me.” The silence between the two of you was loud. Your mouth opened and closed like a fish as you tried your best to say anything, make any noise, but nothing came out. Your knees went weak when she put a bit of pressure around your neck, making you grip the edge of the counter as your mind spun. Her grin widened as she relished the effect she had on you. “You can do it, dear. C'mon, just say it.” You hesitated, but the look in her eyes was too much for you — the need, the hunger, the pure lust. You took a deep breath before speaking up. “I want you more than anything, Mistress.”

“Hmmm… such a good girl. Always so obedient and eager to please me…” Agatha purred, wetting her lips as she stared at yours. She pushed you against the counter suddenly, pining you in place with her own body and making you gasp at the unexpected movement. Her hand was still around your neck as her free one slid down your body, exploring your curves with a hum of approval. “Pretty thing. I'm glad I got here earlier than expected. Aren't you?” You felt her breath against your lips, making your body tremble like a leaf. You let out a high pitched yelp when her hand cupped your pussy out of nowhere, feeling your dampness. “Soaked, already?” She taunted with a mocking pout, her fingers teasing your folds through the thin fabric of your panties and eliciting a needy whimper from you. “What is it that you want, bunny? Tell Mistress, hm?” Her voice was a sultry sound against your ear as her tongue flicked out to nibble on your earlobe. The touch made your knees buckle and she chuckled, hands gripping your hips to steady you as she pulled back to look into your eyes. “Say it.”

“Y-You, Mistress! I want you!” You managed to stutter out. The sight of your wide puppy eyes just pleading for her to take you was too much for the older witch. Agatha kissed you with a hunger that made you dizzy, your eyebrows shooting up in surprise and hands reaching up to grip her collar. You moaned into her mouth, pouring all the pent-up lust into the kiss you’ve been dreaming of for months now. Her hand found its way between your legs once more, palm rubbing your clothed clit lazily. You whined and bit down on her lower lip. She pulled back, eyes darkened. “Oh, you don't know what you're getting into, do you?” You could only look at her, hips bucking against her hand desperately. Agatha tsked, shaking her head in mock disappointment. “Poor thing, can't even speak properly and I barely even touched you.” She was torturing you, her hand previously on your cunt moved to squeeze and caress your thigh.

“Mistress, please…” you mewled, head tilting to the side pathetically, looking at her through half lidded eyes. Her hand inched closer to where you needed her the most and she raised an eyebrow, urging you on. “Please touch me there, I'm dripping…” She hummed in approval, cupping your pussy once more. You rolled your hips, a sinful moan falling from your lips as you threw your head back. Agatha took the opportunity to kiss your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin as her hand kept rubbing you. The feeling of your drenched panties glued to your skin made you feel both gross and aroused, and you could feel the wetness dripping down your thighs. Apparently, the older woman could too, grinning against your neck before licking a thick stripe up to your earlobe and nibbling on it. Another needy whimper came out of you at her actions, and another one when she pulled back to stare at you with that wicked gleam in her eyes.

Finally, she slid your panties down your legs, shaking her head. “Would you look at that?” She held the ruined underwear up for you to see, making you blush at how soaked the fabric was. “These are no use anymore, sweetheart.” She threw it somewhere on the ground carelessly, then gripped your hips as she lookes up at you from between your legs, kneeling on the floor. “I’ll make sure to repair the damage by getting you new ones, hm?” She said in a condescending tome, and you couldn't tell if she's being serious or not. But it didn't matter, not when she slowly licked her way up your slit. You whined, legs trembling as you held onto the counter behind you, knuckles turning white. She looked mesmerizing, you think, that smirk of hers playing on her lips even as she kissed your folds, her touch so tender you could barely feel it. You bucked your hips in a silent request, expecting her to reprimand you, but instead, she attached her lips to your swollen clit, sucking on it.

You arched your back instinctively, eyes snapping shut once more in pure delight. You couldn't control the moans slipping from your lips at every flick of your mentor’s wet and warm tongue against your throbbing clit, her strong hands gripping your thighs to keep you in place. You could feel her eyes on you, her gaze never faltering; it made your pussy clench around nothing and your heart race, feeling vulnerable under her inspecting gaze. Your breathing grew quicker when you felt her tongue circling your entrance before plunging inside you, eliciting a guttural sound from you that you didn't even know you could make. Your hips bucked against her face, meeting the movements of her tongue inside you. Without thinking, you grabbed her hair to steady yourself, causing the woman to groan against you, the vibrations sending shivers down your spine. You finally found the courage to open your eyes, finding Agatha staring up at you with blown wide pupils. You tugged at her dark curls once more, yelping when she bit down onto your clit in response. You whimpered when she removed her tongue, but she quickly replaced it with two of her slender fingers. Your mouth fell open in a silent scream, body tensing. “Shhh, little one, you gotta let me in.” She cooed gently, urging you to relax.

Your body slowly but surely eased into the touch and you resumed your chant of moans, her long fingers sliding in and out of your dripping cunt in a steady rhythm. “Fuck…” you breathed out, eyes rolling back as she curled her digits to hit that sweet spot inside you that made you see stars. She let out a low moan of her own as she felt you clenching around her. “Shit, sweetheart… if having you around my fingers feels this good, imagine when it's my strap.” Your eyes widened at both her words and the third digit that slipped inside your entrance without warning. “Yes, hon, soon you'll have my strap buried deep inside that pretty little cunt of yours.” Her voice was honeyed as she spoke, her piercing gaze making you feel small. “Would you like that?” All you could do is nod and moan desperately as you exploded, your orgasm crashing over you. You tugged on Agatha’s hair, fingernails scratching her scalp as you pulled her closer. Her name left your lips like a prayer, her tongue meeting your pussy again while she lapped up every drop of your cum, humming approvingly at the taste. It's only when your body stopped convulsing that she let go, retrieving her fingers and licking them clean.

She stood up, arms wrapping around your trembling body as she planted a kiss on your forehead. She chuckled at your fucked out expression, brushing your hair out of your face. “Maybe we should save the strap for tomorrow, you can barely keep your eyes open.” She observed, her smirk turning into an affectionate smile. You nodded weakly, eyes heavy with sleep. Your head fell forward, resting on her shoulder. “Shhh, you did so well for me, little one.”

[theemporium]

[3.1k] after a spell goes wrong, you and lando are forced to hide the fact that oscar isn't quite himself during media day at the british grand prix. it goes about as well as you would expect ft. mediocre magic, a surprised max verstappen and a cute black cat.

[find other fright night specials here]

.

There was a lot more to being a witch than people expected. 

It wasn’t all hocus pocus, waving a wand and standing around a bubbling cauldron whilst chanting in an ancient language under the moonlight. Don’t get it twisted, that was still a part of it. But there was more than cliches and stereotypes, things were a lot more complicated than reading from a spellbook and swishing a stick around. 

It was hard. 

Sometimes, it felt like that one subject in school that just never clicked. You were reading the textbooks, doing the homework and listening to the teacher but, no matter what, you couldn’t seem to get it quite right. Sometimes, you would eventually get it. 

And sometimes, you were left in situations quite like this one. 

Ideally—at least in the eyes of your grandmother—you would have done what every other young witch did at your age. You would have finished school, joined a coven and trained under the watchful eyes of the elders until you had successfully and safely mastered your magic. Upon reaching adulthood, a witch’s magic became more volatile, more unpredictable, more potent. It was vital for her to learn to control it before it overtook her. 

Unfortunately for your grandmother’s sake, you didn’t want to settle down in a coven. You wanted to explore the world. You wanted to learn to control your magic through experience, not through old scrolls and grimoires. You wanted to live, not just survive and learn. 

You did not want to be chained down by ancient rules and practices. 

However, as much as it pained for you to admit it, you kind of wish you had listened to your grandmother around about now. 

It was a funny series of events that led you to meet the two Mclaren drivers. It was somewhere during two race weekends a year ago, a meeting that happened by chance but changed the trajectory of all three of your lives. It was instant connections, late nights spent in hotels and a passion that was far from fizzling after your two weeks together were over. 

And it bloomed. 

You wanted to travel the world and they wanted to show you the world. You wanted to experience life beyond a witch’s expectations and they wanted to share that experience with you. You wanted someone to share your heart with and they wanted to be the ones you trusted with it. 

It felt like the planets aligned, the stars shone and the universe worked its magic to help you cross paths with Lando Norris and Oscar Piastri. It felt the invisible string of fate weaving its way through your hearts to bring you together, to keep you together, to intertwine your lives to this very point. 

And, despite the stories whispered in young witch’s ears about the taboos of humans, Lando and Oscar accepted you for who you were, they loved you for who you were. The tales of humans hating and despising and disapproving of witches were squished by your boys in seconds. In fact, they were your biggest supporters in your journey to learn and control your magic. 

Maybe sometimes a little too supportive. 

“Oh my god.”

“Lando—” 

“Oh my god!” 

“Stop panicking!” 

“How can I not fucking panic?! Oscar is a fucking—” 

“Shhh!” You hissed, slapping your hand over your boyfriend’s mouth before he altered the whole McLaren hospitality. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, the bubbling of feeling of ‘oh, I fucked up’ becoming more and more prominent. “Just…calm down for a second.” 

Lando let out a squeak of disbelief as he gestured towards the orange cat blinking up at the both of you, sitting in the spot where Oscar had been standing moments ago. 

“Fuck,” you whispered, staring at the orange cat. “Oscar?” 

The cat meowed in response.

“Oh my god,” Lando wheezed, his eyes comically wide. “I can’t believe you turned him into an orange cat. He is definitely more of a black cat, if anything.” 

You glared at the Brit. “Oh, sorry, let me just remember that for the next time I turn our boyfriend into a fucking cat!” 

Lando’s mouth parted. “Uh, babe—” 

“What?”

Lando only nodded back towards the cat, only to find Oscar the orange cat now very much black. 

“What the fuck?” You breathed out, the panic starting to resurface. 

“Change him back!” Lando hissed. 

“Okay, okay!” You rolled your shoulders, eyes narrowing slightly in determination as you stared at the black cat in front of you. “This is fine. I turned you into a cat, I can turn you back into a human.” 

“Ideally soon,” Lando added, staring at the cat with a suspicious glare. Like he didn’t quite believe it was really Oscar. “It’s Thursday. The media team is gonna want us to start filming stuff soon.” 

So, no pressure. 

…

Sometimes, you wondered if your grandmother placed a small, inconvenient curse on you to punish you for not listening to her advice about joining a coven straight after school. 

Because that was the only explanation you could come up with behind your horrendously, inconveniently timed bad luck that would be turning one of your boyfriends into a cat on media day of the British Grand Prix—arguably one of the most important for the team and the boys in the racing calendar. 

It was a purely unpurposeful accident that led to you accidentally turning Oscar into a cat, but you thought you had a little more skill and experience to be able to change him back with the same ease. However, forty minutes later and three breakdowns later—all from Lando, thank you very much—told you that accidental magic was a lot harder to fix than one would expect. 

Or, at least, than you expected. 

“This is pointless!” 

“Babe,” you sighed but the boy was already pacing the small driver’s room already. 

“He’s stuck forever! We will never see that stupid swoop ever again! We will never hear him say ‘Webbah’ ever again!”

“Lando,” you tried again.

“Oh my god, we have to tell Mark! We have to tell everyone! How the fuck are we going to tell everyone?!” 

“Lando!” 

The boy’s mouth quickly snapped shut, his wide eyes staring back at you as you pushed yourself up from your spot on the couch, crossing the room and gently cupping his face. Your thumbs soothed over his cheeks, feeling him relax a little under your touch. 

“Relax, baby,” you whispered softly, your lips twitching upwards as he took a deep breath. “This isn’t ideal but I have messaged my grandmother. She will call back and help us sort out this mess and nobody has to know.” 

“What about the team?” Lando questioned, his brows furrowing together. “They are gonna notice—”

“We will just have to cover up until Oscar is human again,” you said with a determined nod. “It can’t be too hard, right?”

“Right, yeah, of course,” Lando nodded. “Except for one minor problem.” 

You frowned. “What?” 

“Oscar is gone.” 

Your head snapped around, expecting to turn and see the black cat curled up where he was less than a few minutes ago. But he was nowhere to be seen, the driver room now empty apart from the two of you and the door out to the rest of the paddock somehow wiggled open.

“Fuck.” 

…

“If I were a cat, where would I be?” 

“Keep your voice down!” 

“I’m just trying to get into the mindset of Oscar right now,” Lando murmured in response, his lips turned downwards as he rubbed the spot of his arm you just slapped. “If he’s even Oscar anymore. What if he’s stuck with a cat brain forever?” 

You rolled your eyes. “Magic can’t do that. He’s still Oscar. Just…Oscar with very strong cat-like urges.” 

The two of you had managed to sneak out of Lando’s driver room without alerting anyone else on the team that something was wrong. None of them questioned where Oscar was, just simply waving at the two of you walking past as Lando panic-babbled some bullshit about wanting to go see Carlos in the Ferrari hospitality to sort out some details for a golf day before the McLaren media team stole them away for the rest of the day. 

Fortunately, they bought it. 

Unfortunately, it’s a lot harder to look for a cat in a paddock when no one can know you are looking for a cat.

“Should we get treats?” Lando questioned, keeping his voice low. “Or like…a laser?” 

“Yeah, because that will be real subtle,” you murmured with a snort. 

“We need to get into the mindset of a cat,” Lando said with an odd sense of certainty. 

“He would probably be somewhere warm,” you pointed out, tilting your head back to look up at the grey clouds starting to cover the sky. “But that's more of an Oscar thing than a cat thing.” 

“Oscar did say the other day he was going to hog the tire warmer blankets if the weekend had shit weather,” Lando suggested, his brows furrowing together. “What are the chances he’s just…sleeping there?” 

You glanced down at his watch, your frown deepening. “Let’s hope high.” 

…

“Pspspsps!”

“What the fuck are you doing?” 

Lando glanced up, a sheepish smile on his face. “Trying to make him feel relaxed, you know? Like we are one of his people.” 

You raised your brows, taking in the sight of him crawling through the stacks of tires on all fours before shaking your head, deciding it was easier to just leave it rather than ask any questions. 

Your grandmother hadn’t responded to any of the messages, the team were starting to blow up Lando’s phone and the two of you have had to dodge a handful of McLaren employees scouting the paddock for their drivers. 

Safe to say your plan wasn’t working the way you intended. 

“Oscar!” You called out, crouched down as you joined Lando in searching amongst the tires. “Oscar! Come on! We have fish!” 

“Ew, we do?” 

You shot the boy a look.

“Uh, yeah!” Lando quickly cleared his throat. “We have a lovely piece of salmon just for you!” 

“Fuck, maybe we should have brought some fish,” you murmured under your breath.

“What the fuck are the both of you doing?” 

You let out a noise of surprise as your head snapped up, your eyes widening a little at the sight of Max Verstappen standing a few feet away from you. But more surprisingly, the sight of a familiar black cat curled up in his arms. 

“Osc—” You winced when Lando nudged your side with elbow. “Cat! You found him!” 

Max blinked. “Did you just call him Oscat?” 

You smiled sheepishly. “Yes, I did, didn’t I?” 

“Odd name choice,” Max commented, lightly scratching the cat underneath his chin. “I didn’t know you got a cat.”

“He’s new,” Lando retorted, quickly scrambling to stand up and brush his knees off. “Uh, where did you find him?” 

“I heard meowing behind the motorhome and found this little guy trying to puncture some spare tires,” Max grinned, cooing at the black cat. “He’s a menace, isn’t he?” 

“Tell me about it,” Lando grumbled before clearing his throat. “I mean, thanks for finding him! But we will take it from here!”

“You should bring him over some time,” Max said as he handed the black cat off to Lando. “Sassy probably won’t like him but Jimmy might—” 

The cat let out a god-awful screech before he could be placed in Lando’s arms.

“Bastard,” Lando glared at the cat.

“We’ll think about it!” You quickly spoke up, ignoring Max’s odd expression as you quickly took Oscar in your arms. You didn’t miss the way Lando’s glare hardened when the black cat easily curled into your arms, purring away like nothing was wrong. “But we have to go.” 

“Media duties,” Lando supplied with a grim smile.

“Tell Oscar I said hi.” 

Lando only hummed, glaring at the black cat once more before the two of you headed back towards the McLaren garage.

…

Lando was pretty sure his team were going to think he had food poisoning again considering he had told them he had needed to go to the bathroom before they started filming. 

And the fact that had been forty minutes ago. 

“We can’t stay here forever,” Lando muttered, staring at the black cat curled up on his hoodie. Despite refusing to be held by the Brit, Oscar seemed happy to nap amongst his clothes. Lando was trying not to take it personally. 

“I know, I know,” you sighed, frowning as you flipped through your notebook. It was no grimoire, but it had little notes and lessons and spells you had learnt over the years. Your grandmother insisted it was pertinent for a witch to record her progress properly, to take extensive notes to pass on to the witches after her. You were starting to see her point now. “Why have I never turned a person into a cat before?!” 

Lando paused. “Was that question rhetorical or…?” 

You lifted your head to shoot him a look.

“Rhetorical it is,” he nodded, slouching back against the couch. “What if you just abracadabra your hands at him until something eventually happens?” 

“Other than the fact that is an incredibly stupid and idiotic idea?” You retorted before sighing, flashing him an apologetic smile at your biting tone. “It wouldn’t be safe for him or me. I don’t know what spell I would be adding onto and we don’t know what effects it could have on Oscar. For all we know, it could make this change…permanent.” 

The black cat lifted his head to meow in response. 

“He doesn’t seem like a fan of that idea either,” you added, your lips twitching at the way Oscar managed to look so judgemental even in cat form. 

“He doesn’t have much of a brain right now,” Lando grumbled, shuffling away when Oscar hissed at him in response.

“Stop antagonising him,” you chastised.

“He’s the one who won’t let me pet him!” Lando huffed in response. “He’s my boyfriend too.” 

“Is this about Max holding him?” You deadpanned.

“Yes!” 

“Well,” you started, quickly turning back towards your notebook. “In his defence, it was your fault that he got turned into a cat.”

Lando blinked. “How?”

“You were the one who kept pushing me to make you an ice lolly!”

“And you were the one who fucked up the spell!” 

“And that was because you kept tickling me—”

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

The room fell dead silent as the three of you stared at the door. 

“Lando? Is Oscar with you? The press conference starts in five minutes, you’re both needed right now.” 

The Brit turned to you with a panicked look.

“Go,” you whispered with wide eyes. “Stall them. I’ll work on Oscar.”

Lando’s brows furrowed together. “Are you sure? I can—”

“Go, we’ll be okay,” you assured him, quickly leaning in to peck his lips. “Promise, baby.” 

“Okay, okay,” he nodded, swallowing harshly. “I can distract them. I can hold them off.” 

That was perfectly possible and capable. 

…

It was not, in fact, possible or capable.

The journalists were like vultures the second they realised the second McLaren driver was nowhere to be seen. Lando assumed his presence and the three other Brits on the couch would be more than enough for the media, especially for Silverstone weekend. It turns out he was wrong. 

So very wrong. 

“Question for Lando!” 

The boy resisted the urge to roll his eyes, instead slumping further back the couch in hopes it would open up and eat him alive. He noticed Alex and George sat to his left, snickering away with their microphones sitting beside them considering they hadn’t been asked a question in the last ten minutes.

“With Oscar out of contention for the weekend, are we to expect McLaren will be focusing on your standing in the championship?” 

Lando frowned. “Oscar isn’t out for the weekend.” 

“No one has given us a reason for his absence in this conference,” the journalists retorted. “We assumed he was unwell. Do we have reason to believe he isn’t here for another reason?”

Lando bit his tongue. 

“He was seen this morning arriving in the paddock,” another journalist added. 

“Then I’m sure you saw he was here and well,” Lando said, a fake and forced smile on his face. 

“Hey, if you need a driver for that second McLaren,” Alex spoke up as he tried to divert the attention away from Lando—because bless his heart, he is a good friend—after picking up his microphone for the first time in the conference. “I know a guy.”

Lando’s smile felt a little more genuine this time. “Yeah? There’s a few qualifications he needs to meet.” 

“Be slower than you?” Alex guessed, a few chuckles breaking out amongst the crowd.

“Yeah, if he could hold everyone back, that would be great,” Lando grinned. “Just swipe everyone out whilst I just zoom off.” 

Alex cackled, leaning into George as he shook his head fondly. 

“Lando!” A journalist called out and Lando felt his whole body tense up. “Do you think Oscar’s absence shows a lack of commitment to the team?” 

Lando could feel his face scrunch up. He knew his emotions were probably written very clearly across his face if the bubbling anger inside him was telling enough. But before he could lift his microphone and say something that would have the PR team sighing deeply at his snarkiness, the door to the conference room slammed open as someone came running in. 

“Sorry, sorry!” 

Lando’s anger quickly melted away, replaced with something quite like knee-buckling relief at the sight of Oscar settling onto the couch beside him, his cheeks flushed and his hair dishevelled on his head. But he was there and he was human and that was all Lando needed to know right now. 

At least, he tried to tell himself that as Oscar supplied the journalists with some very vague excuse as to why he was late.

“How?” Lando muttered under his breath, leaning into Oscar so the microphones wouldn’t pick up on their voices.

“Grandma messaged back,” Oscar said with a small smile. “She seems confident it worked fine. But she was also three drinks deep into happy hour so, take it with a pinch of salt.” 

Lando raised his brows. “Do you feel okay?” 

“Yeah, Grandma said there shouldn’t be any lingering side effects,” Oscar assured him, shrugging his shoulders. “I’m fine. Promise. I’ll explain later.” 

Lando only nodded in response, shuffling a little closer to Oscar until their knees were nudging against each other. Oscar was there and he was human and he was touching him now, and that was what mattered. He could wait another fifteen minutes before finding out more, before wrapping his arms around his boyfriend and muttering about needing to buy a black cat before Max texted him with more questions. 

Oscar was fine now and nobody knew the mess they had accidentally created. 

“Next question is for Oscar: did you just meow?” 

.

[blood-teeth]

"...and, at the end of it all, this is the truth of you. The truth of your ruinous, shaky hands. The truth of you whole, de-fleshed, flayed. Your bones are harbingers, your fingers methods of decay. You are the mouthpiece for death. You remember the Bhagavad Gita and I am become death, destroyer of worlds. Look at me, you say, I am Time itself, and I must one day destroy your world as I have always done. 

In the light of a long dead star, the last astronaut wakes up. After six decades, the worst has come to pass. The earth is dead, the sun has gone, and the mission to find a new, viable home has failed. There are no more horizons for humanity.

This Grave Calls You Home is a sci-fi thriller set in space after humanity is forced to leave Earth's ravaged surface following nuclear devastation and an environmental collapse. You play as an ER nurse aboard the NEW HORIZON, an immense space station courtesy of THE COALITION OF THE LAST FRONTIER. This colossal facility, a self-contained city in orbit, houses the remnants of humanity. And it is here that your days pass in monotony, caring for the irradiated people born from Earth and the critically ill, trying your best to survive the relentless demands of the Emergency Room and your own deteriorating mental health. When a patrol flagship discovers the ARCADIA-II - a long-forgotten relic from humanity's past - and finds within slumbers an astronaut who had failed at delivering humanity from destruction, the routine of your life is throughly interrupted. As the mystery of the ARCADIA-II and PROJECT ODYSSEY unfold, you learn that your part in this could mean humanity's salvation.

Or you could be its extinction.

YOU WILL LIKE THIS IF YOU LIKE: - INTERSTELLAR - THE LOCKED TOMB SERIES - BLADERUNNER - HEAVEN WILL BE MINE - TIME TRAVEL AND TIME LOOPS - GHOST STATION - ALIEN

THE LAST ASTRONAUT(M/F 25)- ALEX STERN "...my love, i no longer know what it is to be warm." The lone ranger, the last star. The failure of deliverance. Feel their breath against yours, cup their ribcage into your hands to feel the long, dead beat of their heart. You know them, you know them. You swear you do.

THE SCIENTIST (F 23) - OPHELIA VALDEZ "...in the wake of dawn," she says, "it has only ever been you." The General's daughter and the brightest mind the world has ever seen. You brush your fingers along the bone of her brow and marvel at her atoms meeting yours. maybe science is religion, you think. maybe you will bend and lick and worship her taste on your mouth.

THE ENGINEER (THEY/THEM 24) - PUCK GOODFELLOW "is that your real name?" "no," they smile. "nothing has ever been mine own. i belong to you. give me a new name. give me a new life. i am yours." The scent of engine oil and gritted teeth. Place your mouth against their neck and taste the blood of a covenant past. They hold you in their palms; you feel the promise of something greater, something before.

THE BOTANIST (M/F 25) - CAIA / CAIUS CAIN "i am no good at words. i'm good in the dirt and the roots and the trees. darling, you've been in everything i touch." the cool touch of water, liberation at their smile. Take the bite and know what it means to become. Dig your hands deep, deep in the earth and feel what it means to love.

THE MAJOR (TRANS M 27) - JONATHAN STERN "i have given my life to duty, to sacrifice, to obligation. i wish to give it to you, now, instead. it has been an honor serving you." A past marked by violence made by hands meant to touch. To soothe. He holds you tight against his chest and if you close your eyes you can still smell the smoke. He holds you like an apology. Like a prayer.

DEMO (coming soon!) - PLAYLIST - FAQ

[junkdrawerfics]

hiya! could you write a jasper fic where the reader meets the major? i'm obsessed with how you write for jasper 🥺

A Major Moment

Summary: Takes place in Breaking Dawn, when all the covens show up to be witnesses for the Cullens. Jasper is worried about you being around so many vampires, especially when he starts to feel like he's losing control. When an incident does occur, the Major steps in to save the day. But you have no clue what's happening.

Words: 2456

Note: I'm alive! And writing again. This work gave me so much trouble before I took my break, but I'm pretty happy with it! I hope you like it, thank you for the request!

---

“I don’t like you bein’ here,” Jasper murmurs stiffly, leaning against the doorway to your shared room.

“I know, Jazz, but I’m worried about what’ll happen if I’m not here.” You pull on your coat, turning to meet his concerned gaze. It makes you soften and you give him a gentle smile, “You think I haven’t noticed how tense you’ve been lately, huh mister?”

Jasper’s lips press into a thin line, a wrinkle forming between his brows. Of course you noticed. 

It started the moment Alice had the vision of the Volturi coming for their family. He felt it, in the back of his mind. That slight pull. The need to feel in control. Him. 

Jasper was used to it. He had plenty of practice holding him back, only letting the edges fray enough to help. Like when they fought the newborn army, or when the two of you and Alice had fled with Bella from the hunter. He could control it. He had to.

You were never meant to meet that part of him, the one with stained hands and war-driven convictions. You were too soft for that side of him, too…breakable. So Jasper did everything in his power to keep him out of it, locked away deep in the recesses of his mind.

But then their allies started to appear and something shifted. The pull turned into a dull pressure in his chest, like a beast pressing at the bars of its cage. Snarling, vicious, protective. He could feel it as he watched you interact with them, oblivious to the danger, the hunger he could feel radiating from all of them. It set his teeth grinding.

“You shouldn’t trust ‘em, darlin,” the blond warns you, voice almost a growl.

“They’re our allies, Jazz,” you remind him softly, curling your arms around his waist. The vampire is tense, tenser than usual. You prop your chin against his chest, wide eyes squinting. “Plus I have you. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but they’re all pretty intimidated by you. They won’t try anything.”

That does give him a strange sense of satisfaction. While he considers most of these people friends, he knows that he won’t be able to control himself if one of them touches you. The family had made it clear. You’re off limits. Every human in Forks is off limits. Still-

“Hey.” You pinch his ribs, making Jasper jump. Those gold eyes flicker back down to you questioningly. You shake your head, giggling, “Stop worrying! I’m fine, they’re fine, everything will turn out okay. You can relax, Jazz, I’m safe.”

The stiffness lasts for only a few moments before Jasper gives in and leans down to press a kiss to your forehead. He’s always had trouble resisting you, especially when you radiate such warmth. There’s no doubt, no hesitation in your emotions. Just complete and utter certainty in him.

The beast goes quiet, if only for a moment.

A moment that disappears as soon as you join the covens downstairs.

The room is tense, filled with quiet, murmured conversations. They’re all on edge. Though they were all asked to come only to be witnesses before the Volturi, the expectation of a battle still hangs over the house.

You flicker among them, sparking conversation, making jokes, trying to just lighten the mood. It’s the least you can do to help. And this way you don’t feel so useless. If it does come down to a fight, that is exactly what you’ll be. You’re only human after all.

Jasper lingers along the wall, never taking his eyes off of you. 

It’s in moments like this he wishes he could turn his ability off. Every anxiety, every twitch of impatience, the collection of unspoken concern, he feels it all. It’s like walking through a fog so thick you can barely see. It's suffocating.

And he can feel him again. Prowling along the edges of his mind. Looking for just the right moment to-

A sharp gasp makes Jasper flinch. The smell of blood, your blood, hits him, and for a split second, his focus falters.

Enough for his control to slip.

---

You can barely process it.

One moment, you’re clutching your bleeding hand to your chest, fear freezing you to the ground as you watch a man lunge for you, teeth bared in a snarl.

The next moment, that same man is crashing through the wall of windows, the sound of shattering glass ringing through the air. The whole room goes dead silent.

Jasper stands in his place, drawing back to his full height, face a mask of impassivity, eyes alight with a rage that makes everyone recoil. It pours off of him, fills the room like the static before the storm. 

Your breath freezes in your lungs when he turns to you. It feels like one wrong move could set him off. On what? You don’t know. But you stay stock still as his eyes trace over you slowly. They catch on the blood oozing out between your fingers, the ones you desperately press against your wound. Something dark flashes across his face, his jaw clenching.

“Upstairs.”

Your heart lurches to your throat, wariness and confusion flooding your chest. His voice is deeper than you’ve ever heard it, accent thicker. An alarm goes off in your head.

When you don’t move, though, Jasper reaches for your arm, grip just shy of bruising.

“I said - upstairs.”

Before you can even get a word out, he’s dragging you in that direction, so fast you can barely keep up without stumbling. Glancing to the Cullens, you silently beg for some kind of help. You have no clue what’s going on. But the family just watches on as if they’ve seen this all before. Except Bella, who looks just as confused as you feel.

Your attention is forced back to staying upright when you reach the stairs. Jasper doesn’t slow down for even a second, not until you reach your room and he practically throws you inside. In an instant, you’re backed against a wall, his tall frame eclipsing yours.

“Show me,” he demands, voice low, barely restrained.

“What?” You squeak, eyes wide, heart racing. Something’s wrong.

“Show me your hand.”

You tighten your hold unconsciously. Panic grips you like a noose around your lungs. 

“I don’t- I don’t think that’s a good idea, Jazz,” you croak out. There��s too much blood.

Jasper’s eyes narrow, “And I don’t appreciate repeatin’ myself, sugar.”

“But-”

“Now.”

Flinching, you instantly offer him your hand. Even if it’s a bad idea, you don’t want to test this side of him. Something tells you that he could force you to if he wanted to and this is him being nice. 

You hold your breath when he takes your wrist, waiting for whatever’s going to happen next. Jasper’s never had an easy time controlling himself around your blood. You’ve worked on it, but this is too much, too sudden and you can’t help but brace for more pain.

But the seconds tick by and…nothing. You peek an eye open slowly. The blond moves with practiced ease, checking your pulse, carefully examining the edges of the gash, as if the blood isn’t even there.

Something’s different. Everything’s different. How he holds himself, the way he dragged you up here, his voice. And his eyes. It’s hard to not stare at them. Their usual gold depths are dark as amber, still burning with something completely violent, bloody and crimson and unnervingly calm. 

You’ve never once seen Jasper like this.

“What’s going on Jazz?” You ask, voice pitching up.

The vampire pauses, hard gaze flickering up to yours. You almost flinch, instincts screaming at you that being at the center of this man’s attention is dangerous. It feels like any moment that rage could turn on you, like a wolf, bloody maw ready to clamp around your neck.

“Are you scared, darlin’?” His voice is a low rumble, softer than before, but still rough, dark.

Swallowing thickly, you look down at your hands, head spinning. He quickly covers the cut on your palm, careful not to touch it, but keeping it from your eyes, as if he knows the sight of blood makes you dizzy. It’s at odds with everything else about him right now and it makes you think that your Jasper must still be there somewhere. The worst of your nerves fizzle out.

“I don’t know,” you whisper eventually, and his eyes narrow, “I don’t- I don’t understand what’s going on, or why you’re acting different, but I don’t think you’re trying to scare me. So..so, no, I don’t want to be.”

The man hums, lips pursing into a thin line as he goes back to examining your palm, “No tellin’ if that’s foolishness or courage.”

“Maybe both.” Your voice is still shaking. Taking a deep breath, you try again with a different question, “So who are you? Cause I don’t think you’re Jasper, at least not completely.”

He doesn’t respond immediately. Instead, you watch as he steps back, disappearing into the bathroom for only a moment before reappearing with your first aid kit, the one you keep here for emergencies. With that same, practiced ease, the blond pulls out the supplies he needs and starts cleaning your wound.

“Most call me Major Whitlock.”

You hiss as he swipes alcohol over the cut. It stings almost as much as the wound itself, scattering your thoughts. The Major mumbles an apology, but doesn’t pause in his movements. It’s methodical, how he cleans it, applies some ointment, and then bandages it. Like he’s done it be-

Oh.

His words finally process in your mind. Major Whitlock. Jasper told you about him once, back when you first asked him about his scars. The man he was before you, before the Cullens. The man he had to be to deal with all that death. The Major.

“I never thought I’d meet you,” you murmur, all but forgetting your apprehension in the wave of curiosity that washes over you. 

“He never wanted you to,” the Major replies stiffly, taping off the wrap, “He’s scared I’ll hurt you.”

Brow furrowing, you glance down at your bandaged hand. It’s perfectly done and you can barely feel any more pain. Thanks to him.

“I can’t see why he’d think that,” you hum, head tilting, “You don’t seem all that dangerous to me.”

Wrong thing to say.

A sharp, unexpected tug on your wrist makes you squeak. The Major draws you flush to his chest, close enough that you can see the flecks of molten gold in his eyes and feel his cool breath against your face. It makes you freeze, hands trapped between your bodies, unable to do anything as he leans down, lips tauntingly close to yours.

“You shouldn’t be so naive, sugar,” he drawls, voice a low rasp. “You wouldn’t think so kindly of me if you knew what’s goin’ through my mind.”

Like how he wishes he had ripped the arms off the man downstairs for even thinking about touching you. Or how the scent of your blood makes him want to pin you against the wall and sink his teeth into your neck. He wants to know if you taste as cloyingly sweet as you smell. 

“I’m still not scared of you,” you whisper, blinking up at him with wide, doe-ish eyes, cheeks painted a tempting shade of red. “I know you won’t hurt me, Major.”

You trust him. He can feel it radiating from you, soft and warm and simple. It makes something violently possessive curl in the Major’s chest. You were right, after all. He would do anything to protect you, like a feral dog at your heel - loyal even if it killed him. He and Jasper could agree on that, as much as he might not want to admit it.

“You really are somethin’, sugar,” he muses, grip softening. There was no point in trying to scare you any further. You were a stubbornly sweet thing.

You offer him a shy smile, “Thank you. And thanks for saving me.”

The Major nods. “It was my pleasure.” 

He pauses, lips pursing. You watch as his gaze flickers over your face, something you can't pinpoint crossing his features. Then-

“Can I kiss you, sugar?”

You almost laugh. It’s a ridiculous question at this point, but it’s just so Jasper that you can’t help but grin. Guess he’s always been like this.

“If you want,” you hum.

And he does.

It’s not like any of the kisses you’ve shared before, not soft or gentle. Jasper has always been too scared of hurting you, but the Major holds onto you like a starving man. He pulls you impossibly closer, fingers threading through your hair to tilt your head just the right way. It’s hard and insistent but still achingly tender and perfect.

You’re left breathless when he pulls away. Not too far though. He rests his forehead against yours, taking the moment to focus on the sound of your heart and the comforting warmth of your touch. It softens the snarling creature that he’s meant to be.

You can feel the shift. The way his touch turns gentle, hands shifting to hold your jaw, thumb brushing over your cheeks. You can practically feel the concern that fills his gaze.

“Hey Jazz,” you breathe out softly.

He doesn’t respond. You glance up at him, amusement flickering in your chest at the perplexed look on his face. There’s your Jasper.

“I’m fine, Jazz,” you insist. It’s easy to tell exactly what he’s thinking. The vampire frowns, glancing at the bandage covering your hand. Right. You correct yourself, “I’m fine now. The Major saved me and bandaged me up. Good as new.”

You wiggle your fingers, just to show him. It stings a little, but not nearly as much as before. 

“He did a good job, almost as good as Carlisle!”

“He-” Jasper stops, swallows. “I didn’t hurt you?”

“No. Nothing happened.” You wrap your arms around his waist. It’s just like before. He holds himself stiff for a moment, fighting between the urge to relax or push you away to a safe distance. But he still can’t resist you. Not now. Not ever.

The tension drips from his shoulders. Jasper curls an arm around you, voice muffled as he tucks his face into your hair, “Sorry if I scared you, darlin’. I should’ve known that would happen. I just want you safe.”

“I know,” you hum, “And I wasn’t scared. Not really. Though, the Major sure has his own way of doing things. Charming guy, really.”

You can feel Jasper smile into your hair, “You really are something, darlin.”

“That’s what he said!”

---

You cannot convince me that the Major is not still a gentleman at his core! He's a bit rough from his time with Maria, but he was such a kind man before that. I will die on this hill.

Anyways! Hope you guys liked it! I might be a bit rusty, but feel free to send in requests! I'm excited to write for y'all again.

[lilia-calderus-pet-goat]

In case you forgot just how impressive the acting is in episode seven of agatha all along, let me take you back again.

Lilia is five hundred years old. Four hundred and fifty? Maybe. When we first meet her, she may be kooky, and she may be strange, and forgetful, but she doesn't immediately seem vulnerable, or lost. She's a grown woman, damn it—and a fraud, a liar. She's toughened with the passage of time in her unique isolation.

And in the next episodes, we see her sweeten here and there—and we see more vulnerable moments—but she still stands on her own two legs. In her dynamic with Rio, for example, or whoever else, she exhibits the 'no bullshit' attitude of her maestra. She's softer, of course, more empathetic, less cynical—like in Alice's trial, where she's posed much like s comforting grandma. But even then, she is a grandma. She is the one who does the comforting, or the one who disapprovingly shakes her head at you and judges your life choices.

But when she talks to her Maestra?

Lilia is a little girl. She's childish.

In no other scenario does Lilia speak with herself center-stage. She always thinks of others first, even in her own trial.

But when she talks to her maestra, she acts like a wounded child, a wounded fawn, who can only focus on her own pain. Who has not yet developed mechanisms for processing her emotions—and who just wants—needs—her mother. And she speaks, and she says things she shouldn't say, floods her maestra with her own grief, overwhelms her with information that Lilia has known as fact for hundreds of years, but for her maestra—it's her first time hearing it. Because the little Lilia on the chair is having her first divination lesson. She hasn't predicted the fever yet. But Lilia can't think of that right now—she's overwhelmed, she's hurting, she's visiting her maternal figure after centuries—and so she's snappy and impatient and vulnerable like a child.

And her maestra knows she can't help it. And she knows that right now, she's needed by her child who is hurting. Who has been hurting—so much fear, even now. She must swallow the shocking piece of information that she and her covenmates, her sisters, her students, her children, will be wiped out by a terrible fever—treat it like a given fact, because she's not the focus right now. Because she needs to be a guiding light for Lilia, even centuries later, because she needs her. Centuries later, she needs her. And she's a tough woman, a no-bullshit woman. She's a thick-skinned, old, Sicilian witch, much reminiscent of my own greek grandparents—those who have lived through so much and so nothing affects them, really. Because 'back in their day' they had 'more serious issues,' like war and famine and plague. This woman lived through the dark ages. And she delivers. She's nonchalant. 'Death comes for us all' - It means, this isn't about me. I have to brush it off.

But I still have to wonder where within her she proceeded to bury that piece of information about her own coven's untimely demise. Not only to focus on future Lilia, but also, later, to keep little Lilia calm and focused. To—knowing all the suffering she'll be going through and the state in which she'll visit centuries later—keep her innocent for just a little time longer. Give her time. Until eventually, she predicts the fever herself.

And how beautiful is it that, after all this time, she sought help in her maestra—?

How beautiful is it that—for the second time—Agatha Harkness is saved by a woman whose empathy was bred by a mother's unconditional love? A woman who sacrificed herself just when she found herself, for no other reason than the fact her mother never stopped putting her first, so now, it was her turn to do the the same for her family—?

[luvyeni]

( SPOOKTOBER ) monster ! 🎞️ 一 니키 ՞

𝓟 airings. yandere-vampire!ni-ki x fem!reader wc. 2.3k

🕸️◞ WARNINGS. murder, kidnapping, biting, turning, blood drinking

「 ♱ authors note 」 my first ni-ki fic for day 8 !! still not smut though , but you can enjoy it i hope ...

“how long has it been?” rei asked as you walked down the hallways of your school. “a month.” you said. “you know if you still need it you can come over to the coven , yujin is good at protection spells, im sure she could help you.”

“no , it's fine.” you said, you were sure she was just worried about you, in a town full of supernaturals and being one of the few humans, she constantly worried; especially since ni-ki had been silent for a month. ni-ki was a vampire, in fact he was from a powerful vampire family, and he was also your ex boyfriend. “im sure he just realized that it was actually over this time.”

“you really believe that?” rei a young witch you managed to be friend said. “this being the same ni-ki who stalked you for months after you broke up with him the first time? or the same ni-ki who showed up to your house everyday after you broke up with him the second and third.” she listed. “or is this the same ni-ki who— i got it rei, i really do.” you interrupted. “im just saying, you're new to the supernatural world and all , and you don't know how powerful those brothers are truly.” she grabbed your hand. “how powerful and dangerous they really are.”

you sure she was just spooked, ni-ki was a bit overbearing and he had a bit of anger problem; and you did hear rumors about his family— but he always promised you that's what they were; rumors. you never believed who would truly cause you any harm. “yn?”

you and rei spun around hearing your name. “yes?” you recognized the boy as harua; a werewolf boy from your class. “i was looking for you.” he said, chewing on his bottom lip nervously. “is there something wrong?” you asked. “y-yeah- i-i mean no-no nothing is wrong, i was looking for you because i have a question.”

you turned to rei who just smiled. “i’ll go wait over there.” she walked away leaving you both. “what is it?” he scratched the back of his head. “we-well i was wondering if you'd like to study with me sometime? i-i know this good café, they have both human and supernatural foods, because i-i know you're human and you don't eat supernatural foods of course.” he rambled. sure. you stopped in the middle of his rant. “i would love to.”

“really?!” he smiled, his fangs prominent; his ears wagging. “we can go tomorrow.” he said. “that works fine! you beamed. we can go after school.” he nodded. “great! i'll see you tomorrow.” he waved, running away. you laughed watching him meet up with his pack. “he's cute.” rei said; waiting for you to walk over to her. “we're studying at a cafe tomorrow.” she cheered. “good, you need to get forget of that rotten vampire.” you shook your head. “what? just cause you fail to believe he's not as bad, i've known him and his family way longer, i know how they are.” she said. “how dangerous and scary they are.” you shrugged. “look he's gone , let's just forget him.” you said, she nodded. “let's just hope he stays gone.”

if only it was that easy; because if you'd only look across the street, instead of talking to harua; or joking with rei— you'd notice the red angry eyes lurking in the trees; the eyes of the boy you swore was gone for a month.

“fuck!” ni-ki smashed the glass vase onto the floor; his brothers watched him break everything in the vicinity of their mansion. he stayed away from you with the end game of crawling back to him; not you falling straight into the filthy wolves hands. “i told you to bite her.” heeseung said , jay snapping his fingers, ordering one of the human maids to clean up the mess. “had you listened, you would be smashing the very expensive furniture.”

“that filthy fucking wolf im gonna kill him and that witch too , im gonna kill them all!” he shouted ready to smash another vase, sunghoon stopping him. “do you want her?” he said. “of course i do.” he said , that's all he ever wanted. “then she's yours , but you know what you have to do.” ni-ki nodded. “fine.” his brothers all stood up. “i say we get rid of that little wolf though.” jungwon smirked. “just for the fun of it , it's been a long time since we've had some fun with those wolves.”

he was gonna get you back, and make you his , and get rid of that wolf— permanently.

you made your way through the halls of the school; opening the locker only for it to be slammed , making you jump. “rei what the hell!” you shrieked. “me what the hell? you honestly have the nerve, i've been calling and texting you since this morning.” she sounded stressed. what's wrong? you asked. “i thought it wasn't that big of a deal.”

“i've told you to answer your phone when I call, lord, i'm gonna put a spell on it.” she said. “not the point, it's that werewolf you were talking to.” she said. “he went missing last night, while hunting with his pack.” she explained, your heart dropped. “well his pack can find him right? don't they have like scent?” she looked sad. “what rei, fucking spit it out!” you shouted.

“he's dead yn.” she confessed, “they found them on their steps the next morning, his throat was ripped out yn.” she said , you took a step back in shock. “what?” she tried to comfort you, but you could tell it was something else. “what is it?” you said. “there's only one family in this town who rips the throats out of people yn.” she said. “it's ni-ki."

“maybe you should go home.” rei said; the wolves hadn't come to school that day, and she'd been pressuring you to go home. “it's not safe here for you.” you flagged her off. “the wolves and the vampires have been at it for a long time , maybe it's just that , why would he bother me after a month, and kill harua, yesterday was my firs…” you trailed off; everything falling into place. “you understand now, he's been watching you , you aren't safe yn.”

she insisted on walking you home; but you told her if what she was saying was true and he really was following you; then she wasn't safe either, and that she should get back to her coven because that's where she was the safest right now. “are your parents home?”

“no rei , you know they aren't, they're abroad working.” you said dropping your bag on the floor. “how could they leave you , and at a time like this.” she stressed. “look im sure before we moved in they got a witch to put a protection spell around the house , it's fine , im home safe; it's friday so i don't really have to worry about me leaving.” you reassured the young witch. “im fine , and don't send your familiar , i know what it looks like.”

you hung up, sitting your phone on the counter, opening the fridge door; closing it after grabbing a water— that's when it hit you; it was quiet. too quiet.

“maeve?” you called out for your cat. “maeve where are you babygirl?” you began your walk up the steps to your room, calling out for the orange cat , who would've made some sort of noise by now. okay. you pushed the door to your room open , the cat emerging from under your bed. “you scared me baby.” you bent down , petting the animal. “why didn't you answer me when i called you, you had mommy worried.” you stood up , smiling down at your baby, unaware of the presence behind you. “you are cute.”

“i see why ni-ki wants you.” you turned around; before you could even let out a scream— the person's hand was already around your mouth , before everything went dark.

when you finally awoke; everything was blurry , the room dark besides the lamp on the side of the bed in the huge room. “mmm; what?” you groaned , trying to rub your eyes; but one of your hands was bound to the headboard. “what the hell?” you began to panic. “no no this can't be happening!” realizing one of your hands were free , you quickly untied your hand , and your legs; climbing off the bed , running towards the door. “help!” you banged on the locked door. “please help!” you cried. “no one's gonna hear you.”

you froze hearing the voice. “well one that's willing to help you.” slowly turning around , facing the person you haven't seen in a long time, the last person you wanted to see. “n-ni-ki?” you stuttered out. “what the hell is this?” he stood up. “i gave you so many chances to come back to me and you didn't.” he said , getting closer. “instead you throw yourself at that filthy fucking wolf.” he was close enough you could see the anger in his eyes. “you killed him? didn't you.”

“you're a monster!” you shouted , he banged on the door behind you. “am i?” he laughed. “that wolf had it coming, this is your fault.” he said, grabbing your shoulders. “i should've killed that fucking witch too and if you keep talking back , i may just keep my word.” you pushed him back, he hit his back on the dresser. “help me!” you banged on the door. “please help!” you sobbed , feeling his arms around your waist as he dragged you back from the door. “no stop!”

“should've done this a while ago.” he said , moving your hair to the side; he could hear the blood pumping through your veins , smell your scent of vanilla and lavender. “pl-please my family.” you begged. “i don't want to die please , i won't tell anyone that you killed harua.” he laughed like a psycho. “that filthy wolf?everyone knows we killed him love , there's no secret about that , besides this isn't about him , it's about us.” he said. “me and you forever.”

he was gonna bite you. “please, I don't want to be bitten.” you didn't want to outlive your parents, watch all your friends die and you surely didn't want to spend eternity with ni-ki. “please.” you tried to break away , kicking and screaming. “no!”

before you could scream again; you felt it, the sharpness of his fangs , piercing your skin , you screamed in pain as you felt the venom enter your bloodstream. ni-ki felt your body slowly go limp , until he was the only thing holding you up. he tossed you back on the bed , leaving out of the room , wiping the blood from his lips; two maids waiting for him outside. “don't bother her until she wakes back up , she'll be hungry.” he said. “one of you is probably gonna die.”

you woke up a few hours later; feeling like all the life force had been sucked out of your body— that's because basically it was; your body felt cold; you could smell everything and hear everything, your head was pounding. “help me.” you said weakly, please.

the door opened; you weakly looked up. “ni-ki please let me go.” you said , trying to sit up. “you're hungry.” he said walking into the room. “im not hungry, i want to to leave.” you said. “and do what , the first person you see you'll kill them , rip their throat clean off , now do you want to be your parents or rei or an innocent civilian?” he asked. “face it , im the only person that can help you now.” he said. “like always , where have your parents been , they're hardly home , you think rei will be here for you now? come on the little witch is scared of vampires.”

he snapped his fingers and a woman came in; a scared women. “i can help you.” he grabbed the woman by the neck , she flinched, panicking. “ni-ki no.” he didn't even flinch as he sliced her neck with the sharp ring he always wore. “drink.” you shook your head. “no.” he brought the bleeding lady close to you , the gargling from her mouth would haunt you forever , but the scent coming from her blood sent your senses into overdrive , your mouth watering. “she's dying already , and you will to if you don't drink.”

“let me die then.” he grew angry once again. “i'm trying to be nice , but you're pissing me off.” he grabbed the back of your neck , you were too weak to fight back. “drink it , if she dies, the blood is no good , i get a new body , it won't be a maid , it'll be rei , now drink!” you whimpered as he pushed the body to you. “now.”

your lips ghosted the poor maids neck , you got a little taste of the blood , something taking over , your teeth latching onto her neck , her blood entering your mouth. “good good , keep drinking.” the warm blood going down your throat , filling your stomach , along with the salty tears pouring down your face. once you got the strength you pushed the body away , coughing as blood dripped down your mouth. “see?” he said , the body lifeless , dropping to the floor. “only i can help you now.”

he ordered someone to come get rid of the bodies , two boys coming to pick it up. “next time go pick someone up , you guys can't keep killing the maids , jake already killed two when he turned his.” he rolled his eyes , walking out of the room. “that's my brother's , once you're fully ready you can meet them.” he said. “for now you stay here.”

“i want to go home.” you said. “my family will know i'm missing, rei will know i'm missing.” you said; he couldn't just keep you here. “well things can be arranged with your family , and rei; that annoying little witch.” he growled. “if he knows what's good for her , she'll drop it.”

this was it; this was your new normal, stuck here , drinking blood; you were never gonna die, never see your family. “no , i won't let you keep me here.” he smirked. “i know baby , i knew you were gonna fight me on this at first.” his eyes darkened, making you gulp

“you'll soon learn how things work , even if i have to kill everyone you love.”

©LUVYENI

[makeitmingi]

Let Me In

Genre: Romance, Angst, Fantasy

Pairing: Seonghwa x Reader (y/n)

Characters: Normal!Reader, Vampire!Seonghwa

Summary: He's the second in command of the most powerful, feared coven. But he hides a secret, a human that made his dead heart feel love. For the rest of her life, he promises to protect her from harm, never wanting her to face the consequences of being his lover. Until one day, his hand is forced.

Word count: 8.3K

[Story warning(s): Reader questions herself and her life, descriptions of violence, gore, blood shed, all things vampire. ATEEZ coven members have horrible pasts, experiences with humans and with each other. Please read at your own discretion.]

The moment you entered your bedroom, you let out a tired sigh and leaned against the closed door, your tired body slumping down slightly. The weight of the day was starting to sink into your bones and the aches in your joints were screaming at you.

Today, after a long day at university, you took a double shift at your work place because you knew the later shifts got paid slightly more for closing up the store.

"Never again." You told yourself. Looking at the clock by your desk, you straightened up and went to your window sill.

Pulling back the curtains, you pushed open the windows. You shivered, it was a chilly cloudy night, the moon barely visible.

"I need a shower." You walked to the drawers to pull out some comfy clothes. Although you just wanted to rest, a part of you knew that a warm shower will help relieve some ache in your muscles.

'Maybe I should just quit now.' You thought, leaning against the tiles. You were working so hard to put yourself through university, for what?

"Argh!" You let out a small shout of frustration. Closing your eyes, you grounded yourself and took a deep breath before exiting the shower and getting changed. You tried to towel dry your hair as you shuffled into your bedroom again to do your night time routine.

"Are you okay? Why did you shout? I thought something happened to you in the shower."

"It's nothing..." You mumbled, putting moisturiser on your arms and legs. Once you were done, you gathered your dirty clothes in your arms to do laundry.

"Sorry, I forgot. Come in, Hwa." You said before walking out into the hallway. You heard the heels of his shoes lightly knock on the floor.

"My love, what's wrong?" The male, having removed his shoes, walked over to where you were.

"Nothing. I'm just tired." You shook your head as you poured soap into the washing machine and started a cycle. When you straightened up, you saw the worried frown on his face.

"I'm fine, Hwa. Really." You placed a hand on his arm. His cold hand came up to cup your cheek, making you shiver slightly.

"Look at me." He said. You looked up, meeting his eyes. His own dark orbs searched yours, seemingly trying to find out if you were telling the truth or not. You felt him wrap an arm around you to pull you to his body. His body was cold but sturdy, letting you rest your entire weight on him.

"My love..." He stroked the back of your head to soothe you while your forehead rested against his chest. You closed your eyes for a second, savouring his familiar scent and how much it comforted you.

Seonghwa came to your window ledge every night, waiting for you to let him in. After all, that's the rule of vampires. He couldn't come in unless you let him.

"Let's get you to bed, hmm?" The moment he felt you nod against him, you were in his arms as he carried you to bed.

"Rest, my love. You must be tired." He whispered, keeping you protectively in his hold.

Never in his life time did Seonghwa think that he would be here, holding a human like his life depended on it. But when he met you, something blossomed in him, he's never felt it before.

All he wanted to do was to have you, protects you and love you. Was it really love? Seonghwa wouldn't know, he's never experienced it.

It took him a long time to convince you that he seriously loves you and wouldn't hurt you ever, never in a million years. He gave you space, showed you kindness, patience and support. Along the way, he gave you a purpose, even if you knew you would outlive him.

But you were a secret. Seonghwa's coven was the most powerful and he was the second in command. He couldn't be with a human, he knew his enemies would use you against him.

If his coven faced a downfall, it would be his fault. Because he knew, he would give everything up to ensure your safety.

Would his coven hate him? Kick him out? Seonghwa prays that he never finds out.

But just how did you meet?

Seonghwa was being chased by a vampire hunter after saving one of his coven brothers. He wasn't healing well and he thought that was it, the vampire hunter would end his life.

Until you found him. At first, you didn't know he was a vampire so you brought him into your house. When you realised, you nearly ran for the hills but Seonghwa said he was too weak to even hurt you.

"Will drinking my blood help you heal faster?" You winced as you asked, already fearing the repurcussions of your question. Why were you determined to save this vampire? He's probably killed many humans before to take their blood, he probably doesn't deserve to live and you should just let him die.

"Human blood does help my healing abilities." Seonghwa winced in real pain.

"But... How will you know when to stop?" You asked timidly. What if you let him drink from you and he can't stop until he's drained you entirely? You will be responsible for your own death.

"I won't." He admitted. Right, that totally convinced you more.

"Okay, you know what. Just do it." You sighed in defeat. Whatever fate has in store for you, you're resigned to it. What did you have to live for anyway?

"Are you sure? You could die." He touched your cheek. Was dying sending him into a delirium? Usually, Seonghwa wouldn't think twice if a delicious smelling human was offering herself up to him.

But a part him was hesitant. Looking at you, he didn't want to hurt you or worse, kill you.

"I already said yes, Mr Vampire. Stop stalling or you're making me doubt my decision. Just do it, okay?" You frowned. What was with this guy? Aren't vampire blood thirsty and would readily jump a human for a taste of their blood?

"Okay, come closer. And my name is Seonghwa." He hissed in pain.

"Right because I totally want to know my killer's name." You sighed, inching yourself closer to him.

"Do you have to drink from my neck though? It feels... a little intimate..." You squirmed. If Seonghwa wasn't in such agony, he would have found you a peculiar little human with your questions.

"It's better." He said. Wrapping an arm around his waist, you helped him sit up properly on the couch.

"Now, turn your body towards me and drape your legs over my lap." He instructed. You did as you were told, steadying yourself with an arm around his shoulders.

You pursed your lips at the close proximity, feeling your face heat up. Gosh, he was definitely good looking. Great, have a big crush on the thing that might kill you. You consoled yourself that at least if you died, the last thing you'll see is a handsome face.

"Please be gentle?" You let out a nervous laugh. You shivered as you felt his breath on your neck when he leaned in.

"Thank you." Was all he said before you felt a little prick on your neck and you were out like a light.

You woke up a day later, surprisingly alive. There was a bandage on your neck, covering the 2 small holes. That cemented the fact that it wasn't a dream and you really had an encounter with a vampire.

But you didn't expect him to appear at your window two nights later. Not to take your blood but to thank you properly.

He accompanied you that night, telling you more about himself, minus the gory backstories and details, and learning more about you.

As your relationship bloomed, Seonghwa told you that will be the first and last time he ever took blood from you. He was serious about never hurting you again.

"What's going on in there?" Seonghwa felt you lightly tap his forehead. He grasped your hand, kissing your fingertips.

"Thinking about you." He chuckled. You scoffed, you knew he was always thinking about how the two of you met. Well, you didn't blame him, you didn't think you would by lying here with a vampire by your side either. And somehow, that vampire would be the only source of happiness in your life.

"Hwa, can I asked you, how have you... lived... for so long?" You asked.

"Well, I don't exactly have a choice, love." He let out another small laugh of amusement. You rolled your eyes, knowing he was just teasing you.

"You know what I mean... At some point, have you wanted to just... give it all up? After all, you've lived through everything." You said.

"Of course, after a few hundred years, humans get a little boring." He shrugged.

"Seonghwa! I'm being serious here." You slapped his chest with a small pout. Seonghwa laughed and wrapped his arms around you, kissing your head.

"Alright, alright. Let's put it this way, love. If I did give it all up, thinking I've already done everything there is to life, I wouldn't have met you." He looked into your eyes, tucking your hair behind your ear.

"I wouldn't know what love is, what love feels like. I wouldn't know what it's like to love and protect something so much to the point where you'd willing give up everything for." He said softly, bringing you close to press his lips against yours.

"I love you, Hwa." You hugged him.

"I love you too. So, don't give up just yet." He said, resting his cheek against the crown of your head.

"It's tiring. What am I even working so hard for? I work to put myself through university to get a degree, just to go out and work again." You sighed.

"If you'd just let me help, you wouldn't have to work. Could just focus on university." He pointed out. You lifted your head to glare at him.

"Okay, I know. Bad idea, stupid Hwa. I'll shut up now." He said just as you opened your mouth to scold him.

It wasn't a secret that Seonghwa, as a result of his coven, is loaded. Typical, right? He has always offered to support you financially or just loan you the money but you've always declined it.

"You know that I'll never take your money, even if it's just a loan. If I want to do something, it's gotta come from me. I don't take handouts." You chewed on your bottom lip. Seonghwa looked at you fondly, you were such a resilient human. But he hated how you tire yourself out and work yourself to the bone.

"Love, it's not handout. I'm your boyfriend. Not some sponsor or loan shark. I just want to help you, see you less stressed or burnt out." He said.

"I'll be fine. It's just one of those moments... I'll get over it soon." You groaned.

"You're not alone, alright? I'm here now." He said. Sometimes, it hurt to think that Seonghwa will out live you. He says that he'll be with you forever but what about when you're old and frail?

"Thanks, Hwa. I'm glad I have you." You gave him a peck.

You grew up with your grandmother, never knowing what happened to your birth parents. After your grandmother died, you were left alone to fend for yourself.

You spent your entire life just going with the flow. It was mundane but you never really sought to venture out of your ordinary routine, until you met Seonghwa. Now, your routine is still the same with school and work but Seonghwa visits every night.

"Seonghwa, are you sure you can visit every night? Isn't night time when vampires are the most active?" You asked.

"That's tradition but no. As long as I do my tasks, the coven doesn't really question me." Seonghwa replied. Or rather, they wouldn't dare question the second in command.

"You never told me what your special power is." You said.

"What special power? Where are all these questions coming from?" He chuckled.

"On my way home, I passed by the bookstore and saw someone buying a copy of 'Twilight'." You said. Seonghwa let out a loud groan of annoyance while you snickered, he hates that book.

"In the story, they all have an individual power, besides the speed, super strength and healing abilities." You reasoned.

"I've told you countless times, that book is trash. It's so fictional. Vampires may prefer to work at night because it's less exhausting but I don't sparkle like a diamond when I'm in sunlight." Seonghwa rolled his eyes. You remember how he threw away your entire box collection when he saw it.

"Your hate of the Twilight saga aside. Back to the point, do you have a special power? And what is it?" You asked, an excited twinkle in your eye. Seonghwa cast you a flat look.

"It's late. Can you go to sleep? I'll tell you another time, alright?" He rolled his eyes.

"Come on." You whined.

"Love, you have to wake up for class tomorrow." Seonghwa argued. You pouted but sighed in defeat, giving him a dirty look before laying down to go to sleep.

Seonghwa didn't sleep but he still liked to stay with you for as long as he could.

Your question scared him a little. He didn't want you to know that his leader made him the second in command because of how strong his powers are.

When you woke up the next day, you were alone in bed. Seonghwa never stayed the whole night, you were fine with it. Exiting your bathroom, you found the clothes that you put in the wash last night were hung out to dry.

"Thanks, Hwa." You smiled softly and went to wash up to get ready for the day.

"Don't give up just yet."

His words from last night were fresh in your head. Seonghwa has lived for so long and hasn't given up, your years were measly compared to his. Who were you to give up?

"Let's do this." Slinging your book bag over your shoulder, you headed out the door to go to your university.

-

"Hyung? What are you doing out there?" Wooyoung asked from the confines of the house.

"Just thinking..." Seonghwa sighed. Unlike Wooyoung, Seonghwa has been a vampire a lot longer and has grown accustomed to being in the sun for longer periods of time without feeling the exhaustion or sensitivity. Opening his eyes, he turned around and headed into the house, closing the door behind him.

"What's up, Wooyoung?" Seonghwa questioned.

"Hongjoong hyung is looking for you." Wooyoung informed. Seonghwa nodded and headed down to the basement of the house. He knocked on the double doors before entering.

"Hongjoong, you were looking for me?" Seonghwa greeted the coven leader with a bow.

"Yunho said there are more trespassers coming into our area. I think we should increase the patrol with the smaller covens." He said.

"I agree. When you say trespassers, new vampires? Or-"

"Hunters. Some of them don't really trust the peace treaty we have with the humans. They haven't done anything but I don't want them coming too close." Hongjoong sighed, rubbing his temples.

"I understand, I'll let the other covens know." Seonghwa bowed his head.

Although Seonghwa and Hongjoong have known each other and been best friends for hundreds of years, Seonghwa still threaded lightly when it came to treating Hongjoong like a friend more than a leader. To vampires, ranking was important.

"You okay?" Hongjoong tilted his head, genuinely worried.

"Yeah. Just thinking about the hunters. We can protect ourselves, no doubt. But the smaller covens may struggle." Seonghwa lied.

"They'll definitely use the smaller covens to try and get us. But we'll manage. Can you go with San for tonight's stake out? We could use you." Hongjoong asked.

"You know I don't work with the brawn." Seonghwa chuckled, trying to joke with Hongjoong.

"Would you prefer to go with Wooyoung then?" Hongjoong asked, an understanding smile on his face.

Seonghwa knew that Hongjoong really did care for him and his opinion, which he was grateful for. They had supported each other for so long and grew their coven together.

The 8 members were split into 2 groups, the brains and the brawn. Seonghwa and Hongjoong alongside 2 other members; Wooyoung and Yunho, were the brains. The other 4 members were the brawn, utilised more for their brute strength. That's how they worked so well together as a coven.

"Sometimes I wonder, if we'll truly, ever be able to exist peacefully alongside humans." Hongjoong said, going to stand by his window.

"Human's have literature that paint us as the enemy. That's never going to end." Seonghwa shrugged, trying to suppress the smile as he remembered the Twilight conversation with you.

The coven got their blood mainly from blood banks and human suicides now. Last time, it was different.

"I know it doesn't pardon us from what we've done in the past." Hongjoong smiled bitterly.

When vampires were forced to hunt humans a long time ago, it was truly a war. Yes, some members of their coven have hunted before, for survival.

"There are still rogues, Hongjoong. No matter how much we try to stop them and hunt them. New ones pop up." Seonghwa said.

"Mmm, Jongho caught one going after a child two nights ago." Hongjoong sighed. Seonghwa had a grim look on his face. Even when they hunted humans, their coven never went after children.

"I'll go on a stake out with Wooyoung tonight. We'll keep the border clear." Seonghwa said, patting Hongjoong on the shoulder. He knew that Hongjoong had a lot to deal with, a big burden to carry as the leader of such a powerful coven.

"Thanks, Hwa." Hongjoong smiled. Seonghwa bowed his head before leaving the leader's quarters.

Even though their coven tried to maintain the peace with humans, some coven members didn't particularly like humans after their run in with vampire hunters. That's why Seonghwa keeps you a secret.

"Oh, hyung." San smiled when he saw the blonde emerge from the basement.

"Hey, San." Seonghwa's eyes trailed to the scar over the younger's eyebrow. Just one of the scars left by vampire hunters.

"You spoke to Hongjoong hyung?" San blinked.

"Yeah, he updated me on the trespassers and border issues recently. I'll be heading out with Wooyoung tonight to assess and control the situation." Seonghwa informed.

"Okay. I'll see you tonight then." San bowed and went upstairs to his room.

Once Seonghwa was in his own room, he took his phone out to drop you a text, letting you know that he may not come tonight. Even if he did, he'll be late. It did hurt him slightly, Seonghwa didn't want you to think that he put the coven before you. But that's the sacrifice he had to make to keep you a secret.

'Of course, Hwa. I understand, your coven needs you. You shouldn't neglect your duties. Don't worry about me, I'll be okay. I'll just see you tomorrow night <3 - (y/n)'

He didn't expect anything less, of course you were understanding and told him to focus on his coven's needs instead.

'I love you. Rest well. - Hwa'

'I love you too. Stay safe, alright? And thanks for handling my laundry for me this morning. - (y/n)'

Smiling to himself, Seonghwa put his phone aside. Since he doesn't sleep, he always got out of bed before you woke up and helped you do your morning chores like laundry and cleaning.

Just to give you one less thing to do in your already busy day.

He entered his bathroom to shower. After his shower, he stared at himself in the mirror.

The coven mark right under his right eye. You didn't know that it was there, another thing Seonghwa hid from you. But no one questioned it, it was normal for him to hide it when he's amongst humans.

Seonghwa knew you would ask him why he got it in such an obvious spot. But he didn't want to lie to you again, the truth was that Hongjoong held him down and forced him to get it when he was on a rampage a long time ago.

At that time, Hongjoong was a ticking time bomb. Questioning everything when his own brother was murdered by a vampire hunter. He wanted Seonghwa to prove his loyalty this way.

"I'm going out to visit to meet our neighbouring covens." Seonghwa said as he came back downstairs.

"Want us to come with?" Yunho offered, looking up from his cereal bowl.

Vampires don't gain nutritional value from human food but they always had some laying around to snack on for fun. Some ate it to reminisce the taste of when they enjoyed it as humans.

"It's alright, I'd rather walk on my own." Seonghwa pulled his hood up and left the house.

Just as he exited the house, a truck pulled up. It was the group that supplied their coven with blood.

"Boys, our supply is here." Seonghwa announced. Yunho and Jongho were there in a few seconds, helping carry the boxes of blood packs into the house. Seeing that everything was in order, Seonghwa grabbed a blood pack from one of the boxes and left to finish his duties for the day.

As he walked, he used his fang to pierce a corner of the bag to drink it. Nothing compared to the taste of your blood, the best that Seonghwa's ever had in his entire life time.

But as soon as the memory entered his head, he shook it away before the temptation hit. He swore he would never take blood from you again.

When he drank from you, he knew he was a goner. For the first time in a long time, he felt himself lose all self control.

That was, until you grew limp against him. The sinking weight of your head and body on his own jolted him out of his blood trance.

It took so much will power to pull away from you. He was scared that he had killed you but when he felt your weak pulse, he was relieved. He sat there for a while with you in his lap as he healed.

Then he carried you to bed, tended to your wound and left for the night.

No, Seonghwa didn't love you because of the taste of your blood. That was a separate thing and he didn't let that desire for your blood cloud his feelings. That's why Seonghwa promised to never take your blood again, even if you did offer it to him to satiate his hunger.

Tossing the now empty blood pack aside, Seonghwa looked at the sky, seeing the dark clouds roll in. He was suddenly hit with a heavy feeling in his chest.

Hopefully everything will be okay.

-

"There's been another mysterious killing. The bodies of 3 men, armed with weapons, have been found viciously mutilated. Police suspect that this could be due to gang activity..."

You looked at the television that was left on while you and your colleague closed up the shop for the day.

"Did you see this, (y/n)?" She gasped. You looked up at the television of the crime scene. Although they were blurred out, the weapons found on the 3 dead bodies made it clear to you that they were vampire hunters. From the looks of it, the vampire or vampires made it out alive.

Seonghwa always told you that vampire hunters carry silver as they can seriously injure vampires. It was one of the only things those vampire fantasy books were accurate about.

"Are you done? We can lock up." She smiled, turning off the television. You nodded and grabbed your bag.

"Get home safe." You wished.

"You too." She giggled and waved to you before you parted ways. As you headed home, you thought about Seonghwa. You didn't see him last night.

'I saw the news about the 3 bodies. They're vampire hunters, aren't they? Are you safe? - (y/n)'

'You're right, my love. Yes, don't worry. It wasn't us, one of the smaller covens but they managed to get away safely. - Hwa'

'That's good, I hope they're okay. I didn't see you last night so I wanted to make sure you were not one of the ones that were fighting the hunters. - (y/n)'

'My love, you're probably the only human that is worried that the vampires are okay, not the humans. And you may not have seen me but I, for sure, saw you. Of course I have to make sure you're safe in bed, even if I'm not there to accompany you. - Hwa'

'You dropped by? - (y/n)'

'For a bit, just to see if you were asleep and safe. - Hwa'

'You should have knocked or woken me up. I would have let you in. - (y/n)'

'You know I would never do that. I would not risk waking you, no matter how much I miss you. - Hwa'

'Unfortunately, I cannot come tonight. With the vampire hunters' attack, my leader needs me to help scout out our area and visit the attacked covens to make sure they're okay. I'm sorry. - Hwa'

'No need to apologise. This is for your safety and the coven's, which is more important. And the attacked covens need all the help and support they can get, I'd rather sacrifice my time with you than to know they're struggling on their own. I'll be fine, I'm headed home now anyway. - (y/n)'

'You're such a peculiar kind human, love. - Hwa'

'I'm going to ignore the fact that you just called me weird and focus on the 'kind' only. - (y/n)'

'Of course, you are very kind, that's why I love you. I love you so much, my love. - Hwa'

'I love you too, Hwa. Please be careful and take care when you're facing those hunters. If you drop by tonight, please wake me up. I'll let you in. - (y/n)'

When you arrived at home, you went straight to take a shower, not bothering to open your windows since Seonghwa wasn't coming.

"Laundry..." You were standing in your kitchen when you heard an ear piercing scream, making you jump.

"What was that?" Your apartment building was small and old, you stay on the top floor, which was the third floor. The scream sounded like it came from your downstairs neighbour. As much as you wanted to see what happened, something in you told you to stay away.

*BANG*

Then a shot rang out through the building. It was almost deafeaning. Quickly, you went to lock your door and grabbed your phone.

"Love? What's wrong?" Seonghwa already knew something was up. You never call him because that would risk his coven brothers finding out about you. For you to do, something was definitely wrong.

"H-Hwa, there's a shooting in my building... I don't know what's going on... Something is wrong, Hwa..." You panted, feeling the fear creep up in your throat.

"Seonghwa hyung?" Yeosang frowned in confusion.

"Love, speak to me." Seonghwa ignore the younger as he felt a chill wash over him. You were in trouble.

"Hwa, I think they're coming." You whimpered. Seonghwa's mind raced as he tried to figure out what to do. How did the vampire hunters find you?

"Hold on, my love. I'm coming." Seonghwa promised.

"Brothers, I know I have a lot to explain but right now, I need your help. Please." Seonghwa said to his 7 brothers. Hongjoong, at the other end of the meeting table, raised a questioning eyebrow. In the centuries he has known Seonghwa, he has never seen Seonghwa beg so desperately.

*BANG BANG BANG*

There was a pounding on your door. You left your phone on, sliding it under the bed so Seonghwa could hear what was going on. You hid in your room as you heard the main door get busted down.

"Hello?" You heard a gruff voice as a few footsteps entered your house. Your heart was racing.

"There you are." The bedroom door was forced open and you were cornered, facing 5 burly men, armoured and armed.

"W-Who are you?"

"I'm sure you know who we are, sweetheart. Someone in this building is harbouring vampires. And I'm pretty certain that it's you." One of the males smiled at you.

"Vampires? Are you kidding? Vampires aren't real! You busted down my door just for that?" You lied, trying to keep your cool.

"Lying doesn't help your case. If you really don't know what we're talking about, I'm sure your vampire wouldn't mind us sticking around, huh?" The man chuckled. You closed your eyes as you braced yourself for impact.

"A HUMAN?!" San roared, almost stopping in his tracks when he heard Seonghwa tell the group that you're a human.

"Yes, I'm in love with a human. And she needs me right now. I'm the reason she's getting hurt." Seonghwa said as they ran from their home to your house, following Seonghwa's guide.

"Seonghwa-"

"I promise to explain myself later. You can kick me out, banish me, whatever. I just need your help, I need her to be okay. Please, Joong." Seonghwa begged.

"Okay, you owe us that." Hongjoong frowned. He wasn't happy either, feeling betrayal bubble within him.

"Wooyoung, whatever happens. I want you to take her out of there. Make sure she's safe. Please, I trust you." Seonghwa said.

"Alright, hyung. I promise, I'll protect her." Wooyoung agreed, albeit reluctantly. He was here because of Seonghwa. He hated that Seonghwa was reduced to such a state, the one that took him in. But it was what he owed the older, even if this human might be the reason that Seonghwa has to leave the coven.

"Third floor." Seonghwa pointed. Instead of using the window, Seonghwa knew the 8 of them couldn't fit and used the door. Seonghwa stood at the threshold where the door was knocked down.

Seonghwa's eyes turned red as his eyes fell on you, barely conscious, bloodied and bruised, in the hands of the vampire hunter. You were losing consciousness.

"(y/n)!" Seonghwa shouted.

"There you are." The 5 hunters turned to the 8 vampires standing there. You weakly turned your head.

Seonghwa was almost unrecognisable, in a fur hood with a mark beneath his glowing red eyes. You couldn't make the rest out, you guessed they were his coven brothers.

"Love, let me in!" Seonghwa screamed. You looked at how the hunters were aiming their weapons at the 8 vampires. With Seonghwa standing right in front, you didn't want to let him and his brothers in, they could get hurt.

"Love, please! I'm begging you, let me in! PLEASE!" Seonghwa screamed for you, tears falling down his cheeks.

"Let's fight this fair and square." Hongjoong said to the hunters. He exuded so much dominance and power, you automatically knew he was the coven leader.

"Sure. If you can come in." The hunters shrugged and dropped your body to the floor like you were nothing.

"(y/n). If you die now, I'm killing myself right now!" He threatened you.

"Alright... Come in." You breathed painfully. The 8 hooded vampires entered your tiny apartment, bringing their powers with them.

"Seonghwa, don't kill all of them. We need 1 for information." Hongjoong said but Seonghwa couldn't hear anything. All he wanted to do was kill them. But the hunters weren't going to back down.

"Hwa..." You called out but your words came out in a whisper. Your body felt heavy, you couldn't seem to control it.

"Wooyoung, get her out of here." Seonghwa grunted as he dodged a silver bullet. Seonghwa couldn't use his power with you around, he didn't want you to see how he can use his powers on others. You felt yourself get lifted up, meeting the fox-like eyes of one of Seonghwa's coven brothers.

"No... Hwa..." You whimpered.

"Seonghwa hyung will manage. I need to take you to safety. Sleep now." His voice was so calming you slipped into unconsciousness.

"Wake up."

A voice spoke to you, making you open your eyes. You gasped and sat up, finding yourself surrounded by 7 vampires that honestly looked upset with you.

"Human, you've not recovered. But we woke you up because we need you to heal Seonghwa." You remembered his name, Hongjoong, said.

"Don't try anything funny." One of them with an eyebrow scar flashed his fangs at you.

"San, go to your room. You're not needed here." Hongjoong waved the aggressive vampire off, making him storm out of the room. He then turned back to you.

"What happened to Seonghwa?" You asked.

"He was hit bad and we removed the silver but his healing is compromised and slow. He needs fresh blood to heal or he'll die. Considering you're the reason he's in that situation, you should be the one of give him blood." Hongjoong spoke.

"O-Of course." You said. Hongjoong's words cut deep but they held nothing but the truth. You knew his relationship with Seonghwa goes way back, they've known each other forever.

"Mingi, carry her to my room." Hongjoong ordered. A tall male came forward, his face expressionless as he easily lifted you up.

"Hwa!" You nearly leapt out of his arms when you saw the state Seonghwa was in.

"My... love... You're... okay..." Seonghwa smiled weakly as Mingi sat you down in the chair beside Hongjoong's bed. You leaned forward to hold his hand, pressing it against his cheek.

"Thanks to you and your brothers. I'm so sorry, I'm sorry, Hwa." You cried against his hand.

"Silly girl... What's there... to be sorry about...? I told you... I'll always p-protect... you..." He winced. You heard Hongjoong clear his throat from behind you, reminding you why you were here in the first place.

"Hwa, you're dying. Drink from me, it's the only way you'll heal properly." You said.

"No." He didn't even hesitate or wait to answer.

"Hwa, please. You're here because of me. You have to!" You sobbed. Now, it was your turn to beg him. Seonghwa swallowed, resting his hand on your head as you cried. He met Hongjoong's eyes, knowing he must be the one that convinced you to do this, telling you that it was your fault that Seonghwa's dying.

"It's not... your fault..." He said.

"I can't let you die, Hwa. You hear me? You cannot die before me. If you don't drink from me, I'll forcefully make you drink from me." You shouted at him.

"You're also recovering... human bodies are fragile... You can't handle me... taking from you..." He told you.

"I may kill you." He looked into your eyes.

"Hongjoong will stop you before you kill me. You can, right?" You turned to Hongjoong, who shrugged but nodded his head. If that will convince Seonghwa to drink from you, he'll agree.

"Please, hyung! You can leave the coven and be with a human, for all I care, but you cannot die." Wooyoung begged.

Suddenly, you grabbed the dagger from the holster of the person closest to you, pointing it at yourself. All the vampires in the room, including Seonghwa was shocked, unsure of what they should do. Seonghwa stared at you with wide eyes.

"My love... What are you... doing? Don't... be rash..." Seonghwa coughed as he didn't have the strength to stop you now.

"Hwa, you begged me to let you in... You said you'll kill yourself if I die. I'll kill myself too if you die." You threatened, bringing the dagger closer to your neck.

"Fine. Just put the dagger down." Seonghwa frowned.

"All those who won't control yourselves, leave now." Hongjoong ordered. A few of them left the room.

"Yeosang, help her up." Hongjoong instructed. You were lifted up again. The best position without Seonghwa having to move much was for you straddle him and lean down.

"You can hug me... I'm... not that... fragile... It's okay to be afraid... But don't be, my love... It's just me, your Hwa... Hmm?" Seonghwa chuckled, weakly reaching a hand up to stroke your cheek. You wrapped your arms around his neck, your body was now just laid over his. His own arms moved to drape over your lower back.

"I'm sorry." Seonghwa pressed a light kiss to your cheek. You tilted your head away, presenting your neck to him.

When Seonghwa bit down, you squeezed your eyes shut, trying not to let any sounds of pain and discomfort out, anything that'll deter him from drinking.

"I love you..." You forced out before your world faded to black.

-

"My love." Seonghwa entered his room. You have been unconscious, laying in Seonghwa's bed, for a week already.

As he feared, Seonghwa took too much from you and needed Hongjoong and Yeosang to tear him away from you and knock him unconscious so he wouldn't kill you.

But even so, the toll was too much on your already injured body so right now, you needed to rest.

"It's been a week. Are you resting well?" He whispered, kissing the back of your hand. You were always warm compared to how cold he was. He smiled softly, reaching over to make sure your hair was not bothering you.

"Take all the time you need, my love. I'll be here." He kissed your forehead. He ignored the sting he felt, he was the reason you were laying there.

After Seonghwa recovered, they sat down to talk. They didn't want to kick Seonghwa out of the coven but some members were uncertain about having a human coexist with them within the same space.

San, Mingi and Yunho were the ones that avoided Seonghwa for now. The decision was left up to them.

And safe to say, Hongjoong still hasn't spoken directly to Seonghwa too. The only time was to tell Seonghwa that no matter the decision, you and he can stay in the house until you have recovered.

"Hyung. Is she okay?" Jongho came in. He was the one with the contact for a doctor that was a vampire, to come check on you.

"Still the same." Seonghwa sighed, his eyes not leaving you.

"What's your plan, hyung?" Jongho asked as he crossed the room and took a seat by the desk that Seonghwa had in the room. It kept a distance between the two of you.

"I don't have the right to ask any of you to live with a human, knowing what some of you have been through with hunters. So I'll do what's best for the coven. But no matter what, I can't leave her. I cannot continue to exist without her." Seonghwa smiled softly as he looked at your peaceful face.

"But she'll die, hyung. Maybe not now but she's human. At some point, she'll die." Jongho stated.

"Then I'll be by her side when the time comes." He said firmly.

"You really love her?" Jongho sat up.

"I thought I experienced everything there is to life, seen all there is to see. But when I met her, everything I experience with her was so new. So yes, I love her more than life." Seonghwa replied.

"You love her so much that you're willing to leave us?" There it was. The stabbing question.

"Jongho, you know this decision isn't easy. I love all of you, you've been my family for so long, especially Hongjoong. But I can't, I can't leave her. I don't want to have to decide between all of you and her."

Not saying another word, Jongho stood up and left the room. Seonghwa moved to lay beside you, carefully moving your body so that you laid on his shoulder and he cradled your body. He buried his face in your hair.

"I'll take care of you forever, my love. As long as you're with me, everything else doesn't matter." He held you to his body.

With how half the coven avoided him, Seonghwa mostly kept to his room. He guarded you, not that he didn't trust his brothers, but he just felt the need to make sure you were safe.

So when you woke up another week, Seonghwa was there. He nearly cried as he showered you in kisses.

"I thought you left me." He said, his forehead pressed to yours.

"I would never." You giggled. He wrapped his arms around you, hugging you to his chest. When you pulled away, you reached out to touch his cheek, specifically the mark under his eye.

"You've hid this." You said but your voice held no anger. Seonghwa placed his hand on top of yours.

"It happened a long time ago. It's the mark of the coven." He explained with a soft smile. You nodded, rubbing your thumb over it gently. You and Seonghwa shared that moment together in silence, emotionally connecting and healing after everything the two of you have been through together.

"You looked so different when you came to the apartment. When you pulled down your hood and your eyes were glowing red, I've never see them like that before." You said to him.

"I didn't scare you, did I?" He frowned in worry.

"Was I scared? A little. But I knew you would never hurt me." You smiled softly.

"That's right." He kissed your knuckles. Seonghwa seemed to be thinking about something but you didn't point it out, not wanting to pressure him into telling you more.

"Love, I think I should tell you about my power. But I need you to promise me that you won't hide from me. Anything, any doubt, you'll ask me, can you do that?" He spoke gently. You nodded your head.

"The reason I'm second in command... is that I can control and manipulate minds." Seonghwa said.

"What does that mean?" You tilted your head.

"I can control the minds of those around me. I can manipulate them to make them think differently, see differently, act differently without them even knowing. There's no way of stopping me from entering their minds." He revealed.

"So... you can like... make people kill each other...? Take over their minds and control them?"

"Yes, in the worst possible way. I can do anything to them as long as they are within my reach. Humans, especially, are more fragile with their minds so they're easier to manipulate." He explained.

"H-Have you ever..." You didn't even want to ask that, it sounded wrong coming out of your mouth.

"My love, I swear on my life, I have never used my power on you. Not once." Seonghwa shook his head frantically, knowing you would ask.

"Okay, I believe you, Hwa." You nodded with a loving smile.

"But what's going to happen to you, Hwa? Your coven knows about me now. I'm so sorry." That was what you were mainly worried about. Seonghwa lifted you to sit on his lap.

"Hey, nothing for you to apologise for. This is my fault, I'm the reason you were targeted in the first place. I told them to decide if I should stay or go. But no matter what, I'm keeping you with me." He informed.

"Hwa, maybe-"

"I don't even want you to finish that sentence, don't even have such a thought in your head. You should know that I'm never leaving you. If they're fine with me staying, you're staying with me. If they're not comfortable, I'll leave and take you with me." He wrapped his arms around your waist.

*KNOCK KNOCK*

"Seonghwa hyung, we all need to talk... When you're ready... Downstairs... You may bring her." Yeosang's voice sounded on the other side of the door before you heard his retreating footsteps.

"Hey, hey. It's alright. They won't hurt you, hmm? I won't let them." Seonghwa held your cheeks, planting a kiss on your lips.

"Okay." You whispered. Seonghwa helped you out of bed. He slipped his arm under you to help you down.

All 7 heads whipped around to you the moment you stepped out, your scent filling the whole room. You shrunk back slightly but Seonghwa squeezed your hand reassuringly.

Seonghwa pulled a chair out for you to sit by his side. The other 7 coven members sat at the other end of the table.

This was the first time you were face to face with Seonghwa's coven brothers. You gulped, you felt like your heart was pounding in your ears. You squeezed Seonghwa's hand under the table. Everyone stared at you except Hongjoong, who stared at Seonghwa.

"I'm guessing this is to discuss the coven's decision." Seonghwa broke the silence first.

"Hyung, you can't leave. We need you." Yeosang blurted out.

"Yeosang, you know if I stay, she stays with me. I need you all too. But I also need her." Seonghwa said. You grew conflicted, hearing the coven member's words.

You loved Seonghwa more than life but they needed him. Seonghwa can't leave them, eventually you'll die and he'll be alone. If he stayed with them, they'll accompany him for as long as he lived.

"You sure are self sacrifical, human. Not many humans are like you." Hongjoong spoke, having read your mind.

"What?" Seonghwa frowned.

"She'll die and she doesn't want to leave you alone. She wants you to stay with us. She knows and understands the reality, Hwa. Something you don't seem to get!" Hongjoong slammed his palms down on the table, causing you and the other 6 vampires to flinch. But Seonghwa didn't react.

"When I spoke about coexisting with humans, I didn't mean go out and love one. Betray your family. The ones who have been here." Hongjoong glared.

"Hongjoong, you know I didn't do it to intentionally betray you. Any of you." Seonghwa sighed.

"Can't you turn her?" Wooyoung asked.

"No. Not now... Not yet... It's too soon... I-I can't do that to her. It's too much, all of you should know that." Seonghwa looked all of them in the eye. Seonghwa couldn't just turn you, it wasn't fair to you.

"She saved me when I was saving Mingi from the hunters. She's not like the other humans." Seonghwa revealed.

Mingi flinched at the memory, remembering all the lives lost that night and how Seonghwa sacrificed himself so that Mingi could escape the hunters.

"Give her medal of honour then." San said sarcastically.

"San... I know this isn't fair on any of you. Especially after what many of you have been through with hunters. That's why I left the decision on whether I stay with the coven up to you. The only thing that doesn't change is that (y/n)'s with me." Seonghwa still spoke calmly.

"Enough. I've spoken with all the coven members separately. Many of them have... reservations but left the final decision up to me." Hongjoong told Seonghwa.

"Really?" Seonghwa looked at San, Mingi and Yunho.

"It's too big a decision. Hongjoong hyung has been the leader for centuries, we trust his decision. Even if it's not favourable." Yunho said.

For a few seconds, the room fell into silence again as they waited for Hongjoong to speak again. You swear you were going to pass out from this. You felt like time had just stopped.

How would you live with yourself if you were the reason Seonghwa leaves his coven or that it gets broken up?

"Hwa, I-" You were about to pull your hand away from Seonghwa's but he just gripped it tighter. No, he wasn't going to let you go.

"Seonghwa, you've been with me the longest, even before we had this coven. And we've been through a lot together, everything. And yet, I've never seen you more concerned, to the point where you'll beg us, over anything... I'd never expect it to be a over a human." Hongjoong said.

"I know you're loyal, Seonghwa. You've proven it time and time again. I know you wouldn't put us in danger." Hongjoong continued. Seonghwa reached up to touch the coven mark under his eye.

"This will be like a probation period. You and her can both stay. But she'll stay in the guest house, not here." Hongjoong said.

"That's fair." Seonghwa replied. Hongjoong stood up and the other 6 vampires moved to give their leader space. Casting you one last side glance, Hongjoong walked away.

"Come. You should rest more." Seonghwa turned to you.

"I-I..." You stuttered, not sure what to say or how to react. Yunho led San out of there.

"Sleep."

Soon, you fell against Seonghwa's chest. Seonghwa's eyes widened as he turned to Wooyoung, the other mind controller in the group. Although, not as powerful as Seonghwa. Hongjoong wasn't a mind controller but one of his powers let him read minds.

"I'm sorry, hyung. She's been anxious and stressed the entire time. It was deafening." Wooyoung apologised. Surprisingly, with the help of Jongho, Seonghwa was able to move your body to lift you.

"Thank you, Wooyoung. But please don't do that again." Seonghwa brought you up to the room.

"Hyung." Mingi stopped Seonghwa in his tracks.

"You really love her that much?" Mingi asked, the strain in his voice indicated how hard it was for him to ask that. A part of him in denial.

"I do." The older replied and continued his way up the stairs and into his bedroom. Soon, he'll have to prepare to move to the guesthouse behind their main house.

But for now, Seonghwa didn't want to think about what your future would be, what happens after Hongjoong's 'probation period'. He's just content that he still has you and can protect you properly. Hopefully, his coven will soon be more accepting of you, that they'll see how different you are from the other humans.

And you'll be able to be together for the rest of your mortal life.

~

Masterlist

[minkdelovely]

kinktober — day IX

prompt: biting

ripe

“but i know

you’ve got a taste

so just take a

bite of me”

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧     ✧     ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Alastor x Fem!Reader ; MDNI 18+

tags/warnings: biting, blood / blood play, dub-con (covering by bases here), flirting but make it cannibal (no actual consumption — that’s a different prompt lol), power dynamics (alastor’s not your boss but also not-not your boss?), heavy petting over clothes, digital stimulation, tentacle play, squirting, descriptions of biting, mentions of eating fruit and its texture 🍑✨

word count: 3.5k

summary: you make an off-handed comment that piques alastor’s interest, and he decides to test a hypothesis that ends with promising results!

author’s note: i don’t have much to say here (because it’s all in the body) but if you’ve got an oral fixation or a thing for biting my only hope is that this fits the bill 🙏🏻 oh and uh… i really hope y’all still like fruit after this lol quote is from the offering by sleep token.

coven: @fraugwinska @hazelfoureyes @macabr3-barbi3 @sugoi-writes @synamartia 🕯️♥️

the coven’s kinktober masterlist

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧     ✧     ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Everyone was snickering, but what you said had been innocent enough. And honest!

“What? Is that strange?”

Angel put his hand on your shoulder while the others tried to kill their laughs, looking at you with kind pity. “Babe,” he started, smile trembling as he fought to stay neutral, “down here that’s, like, one step away from bein’ a cannibal.”

Was it, really? 

You couldn’t recall how the conversation ended up here, but you had all been discussing your favorite fruits. When it was your turn to share, all you had said was that you preferred fleshy fruits because they were satisfying to bite. Peaches, especially. 

Though perhaps the laughter had been a blessing in disguise. It prevented you from finishing your thought, the remainder of which you now resigned to keep to yourself. Wide eyes and the blush burning your face brought the group to heel as they noticed your embarrassment, coughing to smother what was left of their mirth.

“It’s not strange at all,” Charlie said reassuringly. “Your answer was just…,” her hands danced in the air as she scrambled for her next word, “unexpected! But now that you mention it, I like grapes because they pop!”

That earned her a few sideward glances and teasing eyebrow wiggles, but she immediately dove into how texture was just as important as taste when it came to food in some cultures. Whether or not she was falling on the sword, you did appreciate her commiseration. It was enough to draw away attention from your admission, and the conversation eventually made its way to other topics. Before you knew it, the bonding session was done and you were all going your separate ways.

You were headed to your room to freshen up when Alastor caught you in front of the elevator. 

“Afternoon, my dear! Do you have a moment? There’s something I’d like to discuss with you.” His static voice was polite enough, but his grin seemed a bit… dubious.

Still, you didn’t really have a reason not to be honest. The two of you had a decent working relationship. Being in charge of inventory, Alastor checked in with you twice a day: nine in the morning and at night. You had already met up with him this morning, giving him a full rundown on what was stocked, what was getting low, and a few things Charlie had wanted to spruce up the common areas with. Nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary then, at least, despite his displeasure at the knickknacks the Princess had suggested.

Maybe something had happened while you were busy with the group? In the months you had known each other, Alastor had never asked for an impromptu meeting before… But there’s a first time for everything.

“Yes, I have time,” you conceded. “I was gonna touch up a bit, but I’ll just grab my binder and meet you in the conference room?”

The small conference room, A, down the hall of the main floor was where you usually met to go over your reports. It hadn’t been specifically designated for you two, but you met there so regularly everyone knew to leave it be. Being on the wrong side of Alastor’s temper wasn’t worth the trouble when there were other rooms available, if needed. 

“There will be no need for that,” Alastor assured brightly, hooking your arm through his to pivot from the elevator. “It’s something of a personal nature, actually.”

“Personal?” you blurted, immediately flushing at the slip. “Not that I mind, it’s just…”

Alastor smiled down at you, knowing what you meant without finishing your explanation. The relationship you had with him was strictly professional. Sure, you were friendly enough but in the way that co-workers are, but not confidants. For all intents and purposes, Alastor was your boss. If he was having problems in his personal life, he had friends worthy of his station to seek council with. So why you, all of a sudden? What advice could you possibly give to an Overlord who had been here for nearly a century while you were wet behind the ears?

There wasn’t much time to linger on it though, having quickly made it to your destination. Alastor removed himself from you to open the door, sweeping his arm before you with a flourish, directing you inside. The hand he placed on the dip of your back as you moved past him made you jump a little. 

Another first.

But you dismissed it, hoping your reaction didn’t put him off. This wasn’t a business meeting, after all. It was personal. And it wasn’t an unpleasant feeling. In fact, it was a bit surprising how much the gesture excited you. The light pressure of his hand spanning across the back of your waist made you acutely aware of just how much larger he was than you. Something you had registered neutrally as pure fact — he towered over most, if not all of you living here — was now making your heart quicken.

Alastor was debonair, to be sure, but you had always kept the lines between you clear in your mind. Well… as much as you could, for your part. It would be a lie to say that your daydreams didn’t wander now and then. But as a rule, you had never entertained a romantic interest in anyone you worked with. Don’t shit where you eat, you remember your father joking on your first morning as part of the workforce. 

It was advice you took to the grave, apparently.

You were about to take your usual seat when Alastor tutted and tapped on the lacquered tabletop with his microphone. When you turned to look up at him, confused, you were met only with his expectant face lilting to the right in silent indication of where he wanted you to sit. 

“I really don’t understand this,” you muttered, apprehensive, but proceeded to sit yourself on the table anyway. You had to stand up on your toes to achieve it, feeling Alastor’s eyes on you the entire time it took you to get up there and settle.

He grabbed the chair next to you and adjusted it slightly before placing it in front of you to sit, causing you to squirm. Alastor was collected as ever, primping himself as if he weren’t practically sitting between your legs. Even with his impressive height, you were looking down at him. Not by much, with how he had raised the chair you were somewhat at eye level, but it was odd all the same. Perhaps even the intention.

Still… you felt anxious. Like waiting for bad news at the doctor’s office. Legs swinging softly over the edge of what might as well be an examination table just to give yourself something to do while you waited for him to speak.

“I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation earlier,” he said, folding his hands in his lap. “For the record, I don’t think that puts you a step away from cannibalism.”

Is that was this was all about? Not that you had any idea of what to expect him to want to talk about, but this topic didn’t bring you any relief. You knew about his proclivities — hell, you were responsible for keeping certain items in stock for him! You shifted a little, feeling more under the scope than ever as he merely stared. The placid smile on his face akin to that of a biding alligator, luring its prey into a false sense of security with inaction.

“I don’t believe you got the chance to speak your peace on the matter,” he continued, voice smooth despite the static overlay. “And I, for one, am curious to hear more. If you’ll indulge me.”

He was right, in the strange way that he always seemed to be. His ability to read people was frightening — a quality you noticed others weren’t nearly as wary of as they should be. Too distracted by his enigmatic reputation and penchant for violence.

The image of a lolling alligator came back, closer to the shore. 

“Well, that really was most of it. I just… enjoy the texture of fruits like that? There’s not much else to say.”

Alastor blinked, one eye then the other, waiting for you to elaborate. But it felt too humiliating to say the rest. 

How you relished the sensation of your teeth piercing the skin, hearing and feeling the pop from serration. Sinking into the soft flesh, juice pooling in your mouth and inevitably down the side of it; dripping from your chin down to the floor. It was one of the few times you allowed yourself to be somewhat messy. Not caring about the juice that dried sticky on your face and hands — a sensory discomfort you couldn’t stand otherwise. It was part of the experience. Something about it tapping into a more primal part of your brain.

There were aspects of this you knew he’d understand, but you had never said these things out loud before. And you could tell that he knew you were holding out. You wouldn’t put it past him to keep you cooped up here for the rest of the day until you relented, and deflated.

Might as well rip off the bandaid…

“I like the way it feels when I bite into them the most.” The words fell out of your mouth, rushed and close together. Feeling much like you were confessing to your parents that you broke the neighbor’s window. 

When he didn’t answer, you began to ramble. The sensations you had just gone over in your head pouring from your mouth in a nervous effort to appease him and get the fuck out of there. You didn’t notice that he had inched closer, or how your legs had unconsciously spread to allow him room to do so. It wasn’t until his hands were on your hips that you snapped out of your babbling, his face the very picture of nonchalant. But his smile…

You were caught.

“That wasn’t so hard now, was it? Don’t you feel better, getting that off your chest?” he mused, thumbs rubbing circles on your hips. “And you’ve never been curious about taking a bite of something else? I’m not so sure.”

You yelped when he pulled you to the edge of the table, your legs on either side of his chest. It was only now that you realized how much the hem of your dress had risen, and you gave yourself a silent prayer of thanks for wearing black stockings today. Exposed as you were, it gave you some comfort that so far only your soul remained bare to him.

“I take my mentoring quite seriously,” he went on, crimson eyes burning holes into your psyche. His eye contact was something you had admired professionally, but withered under now. Heartbeat in your throat as his left hand roamed up to your waist, the right holding fast on your hip. “It seems I’ve overlooked an opportunity in your development. If you’d let me, I’d love to give you a demonstration.”

“Demonstrate what?” The question came out harsh, but he was talking around the subject and you were still trying to figure out how you practically ended up in his lap. Even worse, you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away from him, despite his forwardness, so you put your frustration in your mouth. “And where is this coming from? If this is your idea of flirting, it’s a little direct.”

You had to keep one hand planted on the table to maintain your balance, but you grabbed at the wrist of his hand that had moved to your leg in a futile attempt to hold him still.

Alastor chuckled, delighted, the hand you held now opting to massage the flesh underneath it as his smile widened. “Ooh, you’ve got a bit of a temper! Enchanting.”

He laughed again when you did your best to jab him in the side with your left knee, his kneading hand unrelenting on your thigh. You could feel the heat in your face beginning to trickle down, an ache blossoming between your legs as he leaned in.

“Flirting? I suppose you could call it that. But as for my being direct, as you put it,” his expression was coquettish as he leaned closer still. The tickle of his breath on your face as he spoke, “I just happen to know that this is a method you prefer. Or haven’t you noticed?”

Flashes of interactions played in your mind. While he had never been rude, you couldn’t deny that when you discussed business he was always concise and clear with his directions. There were never any gaps you had to try and fill or ruminate over what was expected of you. Not only did it allow you to get your job done, but to flourish while doing so. To the point where you were able to even anticipate certain needs before they were asked. Something Alastor had been particularly pleased with, which in turn, made you aim to do it more.

Fuck. He was right.

Alastor must have seen the revelation on your face in the way you felt it crumble, ashamed to have been read so easily. In more ways than one, he had you in the palm of his hand.

“There’s no need for all that,” he cooed, “It’s worked out well for us so far, hasn’t it? Think of this as a trust exercise!”

You wriggled against him and looked away, not wholly convinced. “I still don’t understand what the goal is here… You’re only being direct with your hands, not your words.”

If it wasn’t exactly flirting or seduction, what was it, then? Lessons in cannibalism? A shiver down your spine left you with a strange blend of nausea and intrigue. You did your best to ignore the throb you felt in your groin.

“The goal, my dear, is to find out just how far your fascination with biting goes. And before I offer up my own neck, we need to make sure you know what you’re doing. Hence, the demonstration.”

Alastor placed his palm over your mound, using the heel of his hand to grind against your sensitive nub. Your body jerked, the small scream of shock and pleasure that left you echoing in the room. With your hand still wrapped around his wrist, you could feel the way his bones moved under the skin. The sensation of it dueling with the arousal he was drawing from you in a way that replaced your mind with hot air.

“Wha—mm! What are you doing that for?” you managed to ask, breath heavy and face hot with embarrassment.

“My, what a face you’re making,” Alastor teased, leaning forward to lick a stripe up your cheek with his long tongue. His low chuckle rang in your ears, drowning out your own wanton gasp. “But to answer your question, I need to… ripen the fruit, so to speak.”

His hand over your sex emphasized this with a squeeze and you squealed, thighs clenching around his body in reflex. It only served to press him firmer against you, your grip on his wrist quickly becoming your tether to reality as his fingers stroked you over your stockings and panties. It took longer than you’d have liked for his answer to land, alarm bells going off somewhere in the haze that had become your logic.

“You can’t — ahh! You’re gonna bite there?!” 

Alastor laughed but didn’t stop working his fingers. The gaze he set on you was patronizing, but amused. As if you were a child who had unwittingly said something profane or clever. 

“No, darling, not today. That’s a bit much for the first time.” His voice dropped a couple octaves when he continued, leaning in to speak into your ear, “But I’d be happy to indulge you, should you enjoy our little experiment.”

You whimpered, your hand on him tightening as his lips planted a kiss behind your ear. 

He continued to pepper your neck, pausing now and then to tease you with a lick or graze of teeth. All the while his hand remained hard at work, your hips mindlessly rolling into his touch. The sound of your panting and moans harmonized with Alastor’s static, making the air around you heady and alive. Pressure mounting and threatening to spill over like the coil in your belly.

It was so hard to concentrate, feeling so surrounded by him. Alastor’s mouth had now latched onto your neck where it met your shoulder, sucking a bruise you knew would take at least a week to recover from. You didn’t even realize you had been saying his name with nearly every rock of your hips, chasing down your orgasm as he growled against your skin. His own hips grinding himself into nothing but the seat of the chair as his arm wrapped around your back to hold you close. 

The sting of his nails digging into your ribs didn’t even phase you as he gave your neck its first real bite. You cried out, hips stuttering as his tongue soothed over the raw patch of flesh. It hadn’t been strong enough to break the skin, but the rush of heat you felt prickling your neck and cunt was undeniable.

You wanted more.

 “Alastor, please… I’m so close,” you whined, feeling secure enough now to clasp your hands behind his neck. 

Whether it was what you said or how you clung to him, something triggered him to lose his composure, if momentarily. But you feared you would never forget the popping feeling of your stockings breaking under the force of his claw or the sound of tearing fabric that followed. His thumb swept down into your folds to collect your slick before resuming its task, rubbing harsh circles over your clit. The direct contact was almost overwhelming and you keened, high and desperate. Earning a low rumble of satisfaction from him in return.

Soon there was another sensation, something cool and slippery probing your entrance. It pushed forward just as he bit you again, this time on the shoulder. You felt your skin give in, the slightest puncture of his teeth sending a thrill through you. His saliva stung the minor wound, but the appendage working your core was more than a distraction. The lewd sound of your arousal now competing with your mindless cries.

“This is it, darling. Are you ready?” Alastor’s voice was husky and eager, while his eyes threatened to eat you alive. In a sense, he was, and all you could do to answer him was nod your head. 

He ran his tongue over his teeth before he hid his face in your neck again, placing open-mouthed kisses wherever his lips could touch before he settled back over the bruise. You moaned as he lapped at it, his tongue wide and firm, contrasting the pace of his thumb and what you now assumed to be one of his tentacles inside you. The last thing you truly remembered was his mouth parting over your skin. Everything that followed seemed to merge into one.

Was it your climax that urged him to bite down? Or was it the bite that set it off? It was more than possible that they happened in tandem… Alastor always did have impeccable timing. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as your vision went white, the force of your orgasm with the exquisite pain of the bite nearly sending you into unconsciousness. As you began to return to yourself, it felt as if your body had three heartbeats. One in your chest, one in your neck, and one between your hips. 

You were vaguely aware of feeling wet. Sweat had made your clothes stick to your skin, but you could feel it in your lap as well as on your chest and back. The tentacle had retreated from your core and Alastor’s hand was back on your hip, his other still holding you against him as you heaved to catch your breath. He was breathing harshly through his nose, his teeth still buried in you as his mouth siphoned as much of your blood as it could. Your pulse seemed to match the rhythm of his swallowing throat, the early signs of pain beginning to bubble under your skin as your orgasm and adrenaline waned.

But on the whole, you felt incredible. Euphoric. As if your entire body had let go of some unknown burden, it was a delicious relief you knew you’d be chasing for the rest of your afterlife.

After a few moments, Alastor removed himself, blood coating his chin as he smiled up at you. Eyes glazed with an almost drunken glee. “What’s the verdict?”

You leaned down and licked off some of the blood, an absent thought of whether or not it was all yours coming to mind. Though in the end, that wasn’t really important, was it? Especially not when you pulled back to take in his voracious face, ears pinned to his head as his hands gave you a squeeze.

“How soon can we schedule the next trust exercise?”

Alastor chuckled, low and amused. “How proactive you are. We can talk about it while I get you cleaned up.”

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧     ✧     ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

banner by @synamartia ❤️‍🔥

tag list: @fairyv-ice, @wat4r, @midorichoco, @raynerrold, @krak-jj, @tremendoushearttaco, @redfoxwritesstuff, @chibistar45, @kaylopolis, @cutiebimbo, @lousypotatoes, @rfox1998, @cosmiccandydreamer, @hyperfixations-keep-me-going, @cherry-cola-100, @wonderlandangelsposts, @catticora, @velvette3, @sailorsmouth, @reath-solia, @junieshohoho, @cxrsedwxrlds, @littlebluefishtail, @alastorthirsty, @nxcxllxsevens, @swagkittybear

[annie-creates]

I deserved it

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x reader

Genre: angst

Words: 1000

Note: This story is inspired by this amazing song so I'm very greateful to the person who used it for an Agatha edit. Please be aware there's a talk of scars in case it makes you uncomfortable.

When Agatha Harkness entered your apotheke on the outskirts of your town, you thought it must have been a mistake. She would never step into a mile radius of yours willingly. But she wasn’t alone, she had a young boy with her. A kid who was a little too excited to get on the path of death for your liking, but at the same time it intrigued you. It was clear Agatha herself didn’t really want to be here, but once he told you about the coven list, you understood she really didn’t have much of a choice. If she wanted to find the witch’s road, she needed a coven with you in it.

Against your better judgement, you came to the meeting point, other witches already gathering. Quite a weird group in your opinion, Agatha must have been desperate. You couldn’t fathom she’d choose any of them willingly. That’s how you got yourself into the shenanigans of trials and tests, each one crazier than the one before. You weren’t all exactly friendly with each other either, most of you having some old beef with Agatha. Which at least didn’t leave you alone in your reservations towards her.

In the chaos of the last trial Teen got hurt and you all rushed outside to tend to him in the calmer surroundings. Everyone seemed desperate to find something to help, but surprisingly most of all Agatha, who pushed Jen to come up with anything that would help. You stand by his side, calling to your healing powers your hands starting to glow.

„Don’t touch him!“ Agatha screams at you, the cruelty in her voice taking you back.

„Do you want him to live or not?“ You spit back after the initial shock, masking your hurt expression.

In the mean time Jennifer makes her makeshift potion, slowly healing his wound. You take a few steps back, still hurt by the refusal of your help. You watch as they take him to sleep, opting to help Lilia with setting up a campfire instead. She notices your sudden quietness but doesn’t comment on it. The day has been hard on all of you.

“He might get a scar from this one,” Alice comments as she and Jennifer return, leaving Agatha looking after the kid.

“I bet he’ll find it pretty cool,” you answer halfheartedly.

“Do you guys have any magical scars?” She asks, stirring up a friendly conversation. “You’ve already seen mine.”

“I have these from the bounds,” Jen admits showing her wrists with lines that were hardly visible now.

“Look at this,” Lilia shows the side of her neck. “It’s from a vampire… right before I knocked out his other tooth.”

That gets everyone laughing and you must chuckle a little. What a weird group, and yet you kinda did click together. Maybe the choosing wasn’t completely random after all. All covenless witches, renegades who didn’t fit into the society of the outside world. You hear Agatha’s steps before she sits down by the fire, an opportunity they can’t pass on.

“Do you have any battle scars Agatha?” Alice asks lightly.

“Check this out,” she unbuttons her sleeve rolling it up. “Knitting needle right to the elbow.”

“Wow,” Jennifer admires. “What about you Y/n?”

You slowly look up at her, being a little lost in your own thoughts to follow the conversation too closely. You debate yourself for a minute with a loud inhale and exhale, deciding to also share a little piece of your troubled past. So you open the first few buttons of your shirt. There, in the middle of your chest, lies a deep pink scar.

“Oh my god, where did you get that?” Jen asks surprised.

“Well… a long time ago, I had this… person. And I wasn’t able to protect someone very dear to them… so she promised to cut out my heart and never forgive me,” you admit, your eyes glossing over as you remember the painful memory.

“Wow that’s cruel,” Alice whispers taken back by your dark story.

“I guess I deserved it,” you shrug, suddenly feeling colder.

The other women shake their heads clearly disagreeing but it’s not their place to argue with you on your self-esteem and worth. Agatha stays quiet, remembering the day she almost cut your heart out for the loss of her son. Even now, decades later she couldn’t understand how you could fail the one time she really needed you, and it only strengthened her decision that she can’t trust anybody when it comes to important stuff.

You get up after a minute, too lost in your own mind to entertain the ladies. You walk through the forest, immediately missing the warmth of the fire. Were you a good person? Reliable? The people in your life now would surely say yes, the witches on the road didn’t know you enough to judge, and Agatha would definitely have a different opinion. So what’s the right answer? Could you even believe in yourself? If not, how could you ask others to?

Your mind travels back to earlier today when Agatha forbade you from helping, rather entrusting Teen’s life in the hands of a stranger than yours. Did she really think so little of you? That you’d hurt the kid? The answer came walking behind you, subtle rustling of leaves revealing her presence. With a spiteful feeling you think she came to make sure you didn’t poison the boy or something.

“You know, this road is like Switzerland…” Agatha waits for you to turn around and look at her. “So I won’t attack you here… If I don’t have to.”

“Oh what a relief…” you scoff, folding your hands over your chest.

“But don’t expect the same courtesy when we’re outta here,” she warns you. “I don’t want to have anything to do with you.”

“Wouldn’t imagine anything else,” you sigh.

“You were right you know?” she adds, already on her walk away from you. “You deserve much worse than just a scar.”

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Bowen McCurdy and Jordan Morris’s “Youth Group”

NEXT SATURDAY (July 20), I'm appearing in CHICAGO at Exile in Bookville.

Youth Group is Bowen McCurdy and Jordan Morris's new and delightful graphic novel from Firstsecond. It's a charming tale of 1990s ennui, cringe Sunday School – and demon hunting.

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250789235/youthgroup

Kay is a bitter, cynical teenager who's doing her best to help her mother cope with an ugly divorce that has seen her dad check out on his former family. Mom is going back to church, and she talks Kay into coming along with her to attend the church youth group.

This is set in the 1990s, and the word "cringe" hasn't yet entered our lexicon as an adjective, but boy is the youth group cringe. The pastor is a guitar-strumming bearded dad who demonstrates how down he is with the kids by singing top 40 songs rewritten with evangelical lyrics (think Weird Al meets the 700 Club). Kay gamely struggles through a session and even makes a friend or two, and agrees to keep attending in deference to her mother's pleas.

But this is no ordinary youth group. Kay's ultra-boring suburban hometown is actually infested with demons who routinely possess the townspeople, and that baseline of demonic activity has suddenly gone critical, with a new wave of possessions. Suddenly, the possessed are everywhere – even Kay's shitty dad ends up with a demon inside of him.

That's when Kay discovers that the youth group and its corny pastor are also demon hunters par excellence. Their rec-rooms sport secret cubbies filled with holy weapons, and the words of exorcism come as readily to them as any embarrassing rewritten devotional pop song. Kay's discovery of this secret world convinces her that youth group isn't so bad after all, and soon she is initiated into its mysteries, including the existence of rival demon-hunting kids from the local synagogue, Catholic church, and Wiccan coven.

As the nature of the new demonic incursion becomes clearer, it falls on Kay and her pals to overcome these sectarian divisions over the protests of their guitar-strumming, magic-wielding leader. That takes on a special urgency when Kay learns why the demons are interested in her, personally, and a handful of other kids in town who all share a secret trait.

I confess that as someone who lived through the 1990s as a young man, there is something disorienting about experiencing the decade of my young adulthood through the kind of retro lens I associate with the 1950s or 1960s. But while the experience is disorienting, it's not unpleasant. McCurdy's artwork and Morris's snappy dialog conjure up that bygone decade in a way that is simultaneously affectionate and critical, exposing the hollowness of its performative ennui and the brave face that performance represented even as the world was being swept up in corporate gigantism.

McCurdy and Morris are really onto something here, implicitly asking us why the 1990s gave us Buffy and Sabrina (and The Coven, etc etc) – what was it about that decade in which Reaganomics and globalism consolidated the gains of the 1980s, where the climate emergency took on its undeniable urgency, where media monopolies mastered the art of commodifying counterculture faster than it could mutate into new forms?

Morris's writing really shines here. If you enjoyed Bubble, his earlier outing based on the post-apocalyptic comedy podcast of the same name, you will love this one:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/08/21/podcasting-as-a-visual-medium/#huntr

Morris is also half of Jordan, Jesse Go!, the long-running podcast where he and Jesse Thorn do a weekly ha-ha-only-serious goofball schtick that never fails to smuggle in really clever and insightful ideas amidst the poop jokes.

https://maximumfun.org/podcasts/jordan-jesse-go/

John Hodgman calls nostalgia a "toxic impulse." Church Group deftly avoids nostalgia's trap, managing to be a period piece without falling prey to the Happy Days pathology of ignoring the many flaws and problems of its era. And of course, it's a hoot and a blast.

Support me this summer on the Clarion Write-A-Thon and help raise money for the Clarion Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers' Workshop!

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/06/16/blight/#the-dream-of-the-nineties

[fen-luciel]

The witches' covenant

Part.1 part.2

Here's the smut story I promised. It was supposed to be short, but of course, I dragged it out. I'm not yet sure if it will be divided into two or three parts, as the original draft is becoming darker than initially intended.

I hope you enjoy it.

WARNINGS!

Smut/Manipulation/coven/dubious consent

Witch reader X Sith Qimir

There are things you take for granted in life.

Breathing is a rhythmic movement of the body, automatic but fundamental. Maybe no one ever explained to you how or why, but you know it works that way. It's natural. Maybe you've never asked yourself because you take it for granted.

Growing up in a coven of witches led to asking a lot of questions to which you often didn't get an answer, at least not a sensible one. I still remember the first times I asked my mother about the thread, actually, I don't remember her answer, but I do remember being confused. I think she wanted me to find my own logic, and if needed, she would correct me. But I was ashamed, afraid of saying something stupid, and I felt embarrassed when the older members gave me that amused courteous smile after I had said something silly. I know they didn't mean to judge me, but the knot in my stomach that formed every single time was suffocating. So, I developed a bad habit.

I stopped asking. I would nod, at most I would ask to have the explanation repeated, but I never took the first step. "Do you understand?" I would nod. "Do you have any questions?" I would deny.

Yes, I had questions. I had a lot of them, many of which kept me up at night, like doubts about the thread, about our coven, about our planet, about what was outside the galaxy... but I didn't ask.

I tried to give myself answers. As the years went by, I realized that I wasn't the only one without answers. It was clear that many, like me, blindly followed my mother's will as the head of the coven.

Do you have a doubt? Talk to Aniseya.

Don't know what to do? Aniseya.

Are you suffering? Talk to Mother Aniseya.

Everyone sought answers from my mother, and I could understand why, she was... ethereal.

Always calm, with a warm smile, a gentle hand... she made you feel safe.

When I was younger, one of the things that terrified me the most was the fear that something bad would come to harm us one day. I was too young to give a real shape to the evil, it was more an unpleasant sensation that I imagined, and my mother could perceive it without me saying anything.

So, sometimes, in the evening, when everyone else was asleep, we would go out into the woods alone, with a small light to guide us, and we would reach the golden tree.

I loved that place even though it was another one of those things I couldn't explain since it seemed to be the only tree of its kind. I would rest my head on my mother's lap, and as she gently stroked my hair, she would tell me a lot of different stories, fairy tales, adventures, legends. She seemed to know an infinite number of them. I would have liked to ask her where she had heard them, but even in that case, I didn't ask. And so, every time, the next morning, I would wake up in my room, comfortably lying under the covers, the nightmares completely forgotten... at least for a while.

Growing up, many of those childhood fears disappeared, or I managed to answer them on my own thanks to years of study. However, other doubts occupied my mind.

For example, why were we so isolated from the rest of the world?

Why could we use the power of the thread?

Where did our traditions come from?

How ancient were they?

And how were other witches born?

I had seen pregnant women in the village, I had heard the cries of childbirth, the first cries of the babies, the birth of new life in the world was fascinating even though I had never seen the act in person, being too young or unable to help. But it was what happened before that confused me.

Every five years, a meeting was held, after which ten women would leave the walls of the fortress, and after a few months, they would return expecting.

I didn't know what happened, what they did. I believed there was some sort of ritual I wasn't yet admitted to. I imagined that one day it would happen to me too. As the daughter of the matriarch, I had more responsibilities than the others, I would take my mother's place one day. I imagined I was obliged to participate in any ritual presented to me in the coming years. As I was the future of the coven, one day I would have to create the new generation.

When I was about twelve years old, I realized something was off in my mother's stories and finally decided to ask her a question.

"What is a man?"

The embarrassment was still there, under my skin, but she smiled at me gently. Her answer was cryptic as always, but it made me feel better to hear it. "Everything in the galaxy has its opposite. Light and dark, peace and chaos, ice and fire. Woman and man. And between these opposites, many shades that draw closer until they merge. We are opposites and the same thing at the same time"

I nodded, but as usual, more because I felt stupid asking further.

"So... are men evil?" I tried one last time.

She shook her head.

"Do you think you are pure? Gender is only a physical limit, not a mental one. Don't combine the two, it would be a grave mistake" I was ashamed of that question, but I felt better. I felt like I understood.

Years passed, I began to mature, to train more vigorously, to study even more. I was increasingly involved in meetings, though some were still off-limits to me. And the more I became aware of the thread, the more... something called to me.

At first, it was like an unwanted gaze. I would wake up in the middle of the night believing there was someone with me, but upon waking, the room was intact. I even took extra precautions, but none of the alarms went off. I thought I was just stressed.

But the sensation worsened. I felt chills on my skin when I was in the waking world ready to fall asleep, a light touch that grazed my bare skin. At first, I thought it was the wind. Then, the fabric sliding over me at night. Maybe a chill or pajamas tickling me unintentionally, but that wasn't possible.

It seemed like a physical touch, hands, perhaps a feather, I don't know. But it warmed my skin. I would wake up in the middle of the night, uncomfortable, with a damp sensation between my legs that I had never experienced before. Sometimes, I mistook it for other types of discharge only to check and realize it wasn't what I imagined. I blushed, seeing how wet my underwear had become, leaving a sticky, damp spot in the center, the same liquid trickling between my legs or down the cheeks of my butt.

One evening, whether by luck or misfortune, as I headed to the laundry to leave my panties, I ran into Mother Koril.

"What are you doing awake at this hour? And wandering the corridors, Moreover." her tone always harsh and imperious.

It took an enormous amount of courage to explain to her what was happening, but despite my worst fears, she simply nodded. "It's normal for a girl your age. You shouldn't resist it" She ordered me to hurry and go back to bed, then disappeared down the corridor.

But I didn't understand. Resist it? Resist what? It was just another doubt I couldn't answer.

But now the seed of doubt had been planted. I wanted to understand what she was talking about, to see if I could fix this problem that kept recurring every night.

So, one evening I lay down in bed, making sure I was securely locked in, and against all logical reason, I decided to wear only a light tank top, leaving my lower half uncovered.

The only protection was the bedcovers, but I didn't think it would be a problem.

I closed my eyes and fell asleep.

To this day, I didn’t know exactly what happened that first night. I have scattered and confused memories. I was aware of my body lying on the mattress, but it was completely dark around me, and I couldn't tell if it was because I had my eyes closed or if it was so dark that I couldn't see a hand in front of my face.

All I knew is that the tingling sensation returned, that shiver that ran through my body from my forehead slowly downwards, my nipples hardening as if a gust of cold air made me shiver and even lower on my stomach, finally settling between my legs.

It was a light touch, a slow, long movement that grazed my center externally. I could feel the wetness beginning to seep from my core. Normally, that would have been the moment when I forced myself to wake up, but I repeated Mother Koril's words in my head "let yourself go"

And so I did.

Instinctively, I spread my legs wider, bending my knees, that touch lingering on the bud between my legs that I had never dared to touch in my life, starting to tease me inexorably in a slow, circular motion. I could hear myself panting, my hips moving erratically. It didn't matter if I was trying to escape or seek out that sensation, that touch didn't stop. I didn't understand what was happening, but I could concentrated my internal muscle in one of those natural movements like when I breathed, I did it automatically.

My body knew what I needed, even if I hadn't yet processed it mentally.

It was only a moment later when that caress moved further down where a pool of juices wet my behind that I became clear-headed again.

A pressure pushing into my wet center made me react suddenly, frightened. I woke up, sitting up in bed in one swift motion, as if walking from a nightmare. Moving the covers, I immediately saw the stain spreading and soaking through the sheets' fabric.

I was so ashamed of it that I decided not to tell anyone, tried to dab the stain hoping that it would not be visible the next day, had to dry between my legs with numerous tissues and hissed when I indirectly brushed my still sensitive clit.

I went to sleep with a sense of dissatisfaction that I did not understand.

For two days I pretended that nothing was happening, when I lay down and started to feel that tingling sensation I immediately opened my eyes again, unfortunately in this way the hours of sleep were broken and I rested with more difficulty being slow in everything I did.

On the third day, my mother realised my discomfort and after a particularly bad training session, she took me aside.

"Koril informed me of your conversation the other night" she began.

I could do nothing but tighten my lips in discomfort.

"There is nothing to be ashamed of. Your body is changing as you grow. This is the connection to the thread that shows you the way. You don't have to resist it"

I replied with only a nod of my head.

I didn't understand what she was talking about, what I was resisting but I didn't know who to ask more of, I didn't want to look stupid.

But I trusted my mother.

So that night I tried again.

One thing I realised was that that touch had become more insistent on those evenings that I had run away from it. As if it was chasing me before I woke up, I closed my eyes and could already feel it between my legs.

Again, one new evening I tried against all my primal instincts to let go. One thing I realised was that the sensation I felt on my skin was actually an imitation of a hand's touch, the mornings I showered before joining the others had become a time of personal exploration where I tried to imitate that touch and soon realised that I could actually register that as the caress of a hand on my body. But I did not have the courage to do more.

Instead that evening as I concentrated on breathing in the darkness of my consciousness those phantom fingers returned insistently, they did not lose a second in teasing me by pressing directly on my clit, it was gentle yes, but firm. My legs instinctively spread wide, my hips in the air hungry for touch as that circular motion returned to tease my flesh.

I could feel a steady trickle of juices sliding from me and wetting the mattress as I trembled and tensed.

I gasped open-mouthed, little noises escaped my mouth, I wanted more even though I didn't understand what exactly I was chasing, and then again, that pressure where I needed it most.

There was no doubt when that itch opened my folds pushing deep between my legs, it was like feeling long, thick fingers digging directly into my womb, I panicked as I tried to wake up, but something was blinding me. Someone was tied to me in the wire holding me still and open to whatever was being done to me.

I was stuck with my legs open as that force pressed my inner walls, stretching and teasing me in a slow movement.

I could only continue to whimper as those fingers opened me inexorably.

Everything slippery, the sound of juices coming out noisily from the pressure as yet another caress returned to tease my bud, my swollen, wet flesh trembling from the stimulation, a hint of tears forming at the corners of my eyes, I wanted to look at what or who was doing this to me but it was all dark, I could only feel the mattress beneath me, my arms locked along my sides, my only outlet was in clutching the blankets in my fist.

I felt my body tense up in a vice bordering on painful before that touch continued to force its way into my folds even more deeper than before, I felt like I was going crazy not fully understanding how many fingers were in me, I moaned out loud for the first time as the soft walls stretched to make room, I held my legs open in a desperate search for something more almost hoping it might come in, harder, wetter, a ringing in my ears made everything muffled blocking out the rest of my senses.

And finally almost in a cruel gesture the touch on my clit became faster joining the thrusts in my core, a fire burning my skin, vibrating with a pleasure I had never felt before, a tide flooding my senses rhythmically until I reached the limit I cried out with no voice in my body, the walls contracted around those fingers almost as if they wanted to suck them inside me and these, covered by my fluids, slid easily in and out of me without leaving me a moment to breathe, my clitoris pinched hard one last time making more tears fall from my eyes, my hips galloping the air as I reached the first orgasm of my life.

Maybe I was crazy, but I swore I heard a low voice whispering "Good girl".

When I opened my eyes it was morning, it was like waking up from a nightmare in reality, I had dry skin around my eyes from spilled tears and between my legs a dirty, wet feeling, underneath me the sheet still damp in a stain under my bottom.

I didn't know what was happening, none of it made sense, why was this only happening to me now? And who was on the other end of the line?

By now I was sure of it, someone was luring me during the night hours by drawing my consciousness through the link, but I was still not good enough to be in control of what was going on around me, I was becoming vulnerable in the hands of someone I didn't know, or at least it felt like I didn't know.

Over the next few days I concentrated on searching for that signature in the coven, I found it hard to believe that anyone would dare use the power of the thread on me, I was the matriarch's daughter, I was respected, we were united and yet no matter how hard I searched nothing seemed to resemble what I had felt that night, not to mention that bond itself was silent.

On the one hand I was glad that it was no longer coming to disturb my sleep, but on the other hand... I blushed at the idea of feeling those shivers again, I had even (not without a huge dose of embarrassment) tried to do it on my own, but clearly I was doing something wrong, I was too hard, too hasty and in the end I was left with a sense of incompleteness that irritated me all day long.

I felt used, it seemed like whoever had sought me out had taken what he wanted and then left, it had been so persistent in the beginning and now? I needed... more.

And I knew I wouldn't fight it.

I wasn't a bad student, my mothers were proud of the results I brought I was consistent and diligent, but I improved even more after that experience, I studied harder, more intensely... I would never explain to either of them why I had changed.

And what was I supposed to tell them anyway?

Someone touches me between my legs at night and I realised I want more...? No it was better to avoid.

The subject of private parts was not taboo in the coven, in fact there were specific rituals regarding the sensuality of the body, I didn't know much about them since I wasn't admitted to those yet, but the body is a temple of physical and mental wellbeing and as such should be cared for.

I was simply too embarrassed to ask for more, as usual, I knew more about the medical side of it, but I had never wanted more, I hadn't even thought about it and there weren't really any girls my age to vent to.

All I knew was that by now I had made up my mind.

I would be the one pulling the strings this time and I hoped that whoever was on the other end would respond.

[jessamine-rose]

˚♱ଘ Faustian Bargain ଓ♱˚

Welp here we are with the fourth entry in my Yandere Church AU. Let’s fall into depravity once more, this time with Demon! Pantalone x Contractee! Darling (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ )

Tw:: yandere, manipulation, blood, violence, slight self-harm for summoning purposes, spice, mention of nsfw, MDNI

Note:: fictional depictions of religion, guest-starring Demon! Scaramouche <3

♡ 2.5k words under the cut ♡

♡ Since their creation, humans have ruled over the mortal plane under the influence of spiritual beings. But while angels are venerated as divine saviors, demons are fallen sinners who corrupt humanity through temptation and curses. It is for this reason that humans live in fear of demons, with the Church condemning all forms of unholy covenant. But time and time again, that warning has fallen on deaf ears.

♡ Throughout history, several individuals have formed pacts with demons in exchange for divine favors. Favors vary across demons but in all contracts, the price is clear: The human gives up their soul and any chance at salvation. Once the pact has been made, the human is granted the ability to summon the demon as their lifelong companion. But upon the human’s death, the pact is broken and the demon is free to seek out new souls.

♡ It is through these contracts that the Harbinger of Fortune rose to prominence. He is a “young” demon in the sense that his earliest records only date back to three centuries; but in that short amount of time, Pantalone has tempted many fools and heretics with the promise of material wealth. And it is through this tactic that he attained power, recognition, your soul.

♡ In your defense, you had no other choice. Born to an elite family in Liyue, you had enjoyed a life of luxury until your parents squandered their fortune. After a failed attempt to flee to another nation, they were murdered and you were told to repay their debts lest you meet the same fate. It was a hopeless situation—you had no assets to pawn off and even then, your remaining days would be spent in poverty. So when you recalled the local stories about the demon who deals in prosperity, you were desperate to summon him.

♡ It is difficult to find authentic records of his summoning ritual, but you manage with what little time you have left. There is an illustration of his sigil, to be copied on the floor with blood from your own palm. A table is arranged with incense, gold coins, freshly-brewed tea, a mirror, and the dagger used to extract your blood. Once everything is in place, you clasp your bloody hands together and utter the sacred incantations.

♡ As soon as Pantalone’s true name leaves your lips, the incense sticks emit a dark fragrant smoke. The summoning circle glows violet and within it, a brilliant figure emerges. Dark horns, adorned with silver, curve back along his raven hair. His garments are styled with violet jewels, serpentine motifs, an iridescent cape embroidered with a scene from the Garden of Eden. He is beautiful, so beautiful that you feel unworthy when his bespectacled gaze meets yours.

♡ Before you can look away, he is already onto you. In a polite voice, he introduces himself and asks for your name. Next, he tells you to disable the barrier of the summoning circle; he prefers civil negotiations. It takes some reluctance on your part but eventually, the two of you are seated together at the table. There is a critical look on his face as he surveys his offerings and explains his contract in detail.

♡ Aside from the general rules, there are clauses specific to Pantalone’s pacts. He can only be summoned twice a week, and never on Sundays. Contracts with other demons require his permission. Any attempt at breaking the pact will incur severe consequences. All of this is said with honeyed words and a kind smile.

♡ So perfect is his facade that you fail to notice an undertone of condescension. A glimpse into your soul was all it took for Pantalone to regard you as a hopeless fool hindered by your worldly upbringing. But that is fine—fools are easier to deal with, and you’d make a pretty addition to his collection of souls. Plus, it was only yesterday that his previous human died, and he is always quick to move on to the next pact. With that, Pantalone tells you to make a choice.

“A fair exchange, don’t you think?” he asks. The smile on his face is deceptively angelic. “In return for your soul, I will provide you with wealth, prosperity, everything your heart desires. Do you believe it is worth the price, ______?”

♡ You say yes. That is when Pantalone takes off his rings then his gloves, revealing multiple scars slashed across his palm lines. Gracefully, he picks up your used dragger, draws a new line, and clasps his wounded hand in yours. Then he wraps the same hand around your neck, staining it with a mix of your blood.

♡ There is a burning sensation followed by a burst of pure ecstasy. Once the euphoria subsides, Pantalone lets go of you and holds up the mirror. The front of your throat is branded with his sigil while a diamond pattern encircles your neck. It glows violet before disappearing altogether, a sacred collar invisible to mortal eyes. Thus, the pact has been formed.

♡ The next few minutes are calm. Pantalone’s scars are concealed once more. The two of you finish your tea. He takes a coin from his offering, now magically engraved with his sigil, and explains that you need only flip it to summon him. Then he offers one last smile, says he will look forward to your partnership, and disappears with the remaining coins.

♡ In the morning, you wake up to find bags of coins and jewels on the table, the exact amount needed to pay off your debts. Once the money has been given, you eagerly summon Pantalone to thank him. He merely smiles, leads you to your parents’ office, and tells you that the next step is to rebuild your family business. After all, while he can create material riches out of nothing, a mysterious source of wealth may attract the suspicion of your fellow humans.

♡ Soon enough, the company is flourishing under “your” authority. In reality, it is Pantalone who instructs your decisions and eliminates competitors. During meetings with clients, he attends in his invisible form and whispers to you the necessary responses. With success comes your return to high society, and Pantalone is all too happy to escort you to galas as your plus-one. His human form attracts several admirers, but his attention remains on you.

♡ He is also pleasant company. You can’t help but summon him often—your house feels empty without your parents. As for friends, you refuse to trust anyone after they turned their backs on you during your financial crisis. Pantalone is always nice about it, listening to your woes and participating in your hobbies. Once in a while, he will activate your pact mark and comment on how needy you are.

♡ He even fulfills your carnal desires. Over the months, Pantalone has toyed with your physical attraction towards him, teasing you with light touches, seductive whispers, sinful smiles…and a deep kiss when you shyly proposition him. That kiss is soon followed by heavy makeouts, long nights in your bed, physical marks all over your body. Greedy as he may be, he always makes sure to repay the pleasure you’ve given him.

♡ One night, you ask him about his divine nature. He confirms the popular belief that all demons are fallen angels; in his case, he was created for the Ninth Order, the lowest rank in the angel hierarchy. For the first century of his life, he could only settle for the inferior powers and duties assigned to his status. Neither could he enjoy the freedom which humans were born with.

♡ Thus, he set his sights on Hell. For angels are not created equal but demons can earn their powers through individual efforts. But leaving God always comes with a price, and Pantalone’s was paid in blood and tears.

⬩◈⬩

“Is that how you lost your wings?”

In the dark, your demon’s scars remain apparent. A pair of rough, featherless, ugly lines which you are careful not to touch, lest he flinch—from pain or shame? During your first night together, Pantalone refused to talk about it and you took the hint.

Even now, he flips over in your bed to hide his imperfections from you. When he answers your question, his voice takes on a light tone.

“Yes. It was God who ripped out my wings, and He even had the ‘mercy’ to cast them out of Heaven after me. But that was a long time ago, and I’ve since put my old feathers to good use.”

His capes, he means. They are his signature accessory, all crafted with sheer fabric, tiny jewels, and iridescent embroidery. Each cape is its own masterpiece, bearing fantastical images of God’s creations. It was during a casual conversation that Pantalone told you the threads were sourced from his old feathers.

He looks past you, and you know his gaze is on the coat rack. Tonight’s cape depicts a celestial paradise filled with winged figures. Beneath Heaven, separated by dark clouds, demonic figures descend into a fiery sky.

“Still, it must’ve been painful,” you tell him. Hesitantly, you add, “I mean, you didn’t only lose a body part that day. You also lost your former appearance, your ability to fly, your siblings—”

At that, a smile makes its way to his face. A large, genuine smile that isn’t directed at you.

“My former brethren were not dearly missed,” he replies. He sits up, combing the strands of hair tangled around his horns. “After I landed in Hell, I was taken in by an older demon. Let’s call her Jiejie, since she does not appreciate needless declarations of her true name. She is the one who treated my wounds, the one who cared for me using her own resources, the one who welcomed me into her home with open wings. And for that, I am eternally grateful.”

A soft breeze rustles the cape, threads glittering in the moonlight. Some threads, however, lack the iridescent quality of Pantalone’s feathers. Instead, they are silvery shades of black and gray.

His tone softens. “I will confess that I had an easy start in Hell thanks to her influence, as did Scaramouche who fell before me. But everything else—my contracts, my current status—are the fruits of my own labor. Perhaps someday, I may even reach Jiejie’s level of power.”

“I see…” You look into his eyes this time. “So what do she and that Scara demon specialize in? They sound nice; am I allowed to form pacts with them?”

“No.” He says it firmly, with no room for argument. Bare hands pull your body closer to his. “Even speaking as their brother, that sounds very unconscionable. Don’t get too greedy now.”

“Oh, I…okay!” you squeak. A faint violet light takes up your peripheral vision—your pact mark? “I’m sorry for asking. I’ll remember that.”

“Good.” His hand moves to your throat, tracing your sigil. When your eyes meet, his are bright with desire. “Never forget, you are mine first and foremost.”

⬩◈⬩

♡ In the following years, Pantalone grows more fond of you. Gifts begin to appear in your hands, from violet jewels to stylish garments. He accompanies you to more meetings with your fellow humans, his arm wrapped around your waist in a possessive gesture. His physical affection intensifies. On a few occasions, he even visits you despite not being summoned.

♡ It’s a nice change, but an overwhelming one. As time passes, you meet new friends and suitors, only to reject them after Pantalone claims to have glimpsed malice in their souls. Neither can you summon other demons, not when he is confiscating your demonological texts under the pretense that you’re too “impressionable” for another pact. And who can forget the time you were caught looking for information on the Tree of Life?

♡ It wasn’t your intention to seek a way out of your debt. It was by pure coincidence that you ran into the heretic who sold you the grimoire with information on Pantalone; and the conversation naturally shifted to the topic of your eternal damnation. Unsurprisingly, many humans have attempted to go back on their deals; and according to your “friend,” the best solution is to become immortal through the Tree of Life. You only asked them to contact you if they ever find the mythical tree, but that was enough to anger Pantalone.

“Do not lie to me, ______,” he snaps. His smile appears calm, but his tone sounds absolutely venomous. “I glimpsed your memories of last night, and I know you tried to violate our contract.”

“I…” You fearfully shake your head, only to cry as your throat constricts. It hurts, as though his sigil is burning your flesh, and your knees hit the floor. “I didn’t mean to…”

Your voice trails off. A gloved hand tilts your head upwards, forcing you to meet his death glare.

“Speak up, darling. My time is precious.”

♡ After that, you apologize and make no attempt to evade your fate. The next time Pantalone becomes angry, you at least have the luxury of not being the target of his emotions. It is a seemingly normal day, and you are served tea by a long-time servant. Suddenly, Pantalone appears and pulls you away from the individual, not bothering to hide his true form. When he tells the servant to “drop the act,” there is an indigo glint in their eyes.

♡ And that’s how you learn that the Puppeteer specializes in demonic possession. The servant’s body falls to the floor, unconscious, and it is Scaramouche’s turn to make himself known. He has asymmetrical horns, a single skeletal bat wing, and an expression which is far from friendly. A silvery black-and-gray feather dangles from the brooch pinned above his heart.

“Tell me, Scaramouche, what are your reasons for spying on my precious jewel?”

“Hmph, as if you need to ask. I just wanted to see if your little pet is worth Nee-san’s blessing. If you still desire them when that time comes, you’re on your own.”

♡ You don’t understand what they’re talking about, but it’s clear that you have no part in the conversation. After a few insults, Scaramouche leaves, but not without telling you to “know your place” in the future. That is when Pantalone sighs, pours a cup of tea for himself, tells you that it is none of your concern. Don’t worry, darling, he has it all under control. So just sit down, drink your tea, talk to him about anything under the sun. You still have a long life ahead of you, and he shall give you Heaven on earth until the day your heart ceases to beat.

♡ And perhaps if you are good enough, he will act on his desire to keep you as his pet in Hell. It’s been centuries since Pantalone has tortured a sinner, but he does know the best ways to break your mind. And is eternal suffering in his home not preferable to another demon laying their hands on you? At any rate, it’s not like you have any other choice.

“In the name of love, I will respect the contract between us and the fate you put in my hands.”

♡

More Church AU here!! Dottore ๑ Capitano ๑ Arlecchino ๑ Pierro ๑ Dainsleif

Note:: Please do not send me any Church AU asks/ requests involving characters or dynamics not included in my masterlist.

Aahhh I hope y’all enjoyed my take on Demon! Pantalone!! He ended up with the most tame + lore-heavy fic, and I swear that the character of “Jiejie” will make more sense when I write the remaining stories for Church AU. Also, fun fact, Pantalone’s capes are inspired by Rusly Tjohnardi and Hieronymus Bosch’s triptychs~

Moving on, thank you to @diodellet for beta-reading this and supporting me through every step of writing hell. Now if y’all excuse me, I’m must avenge myself and whack Pantalone with the biggest cross I can find o(^▽^)o

Tag a Pantalone enjoyer!! @navxry @beloved-blaiddyd @leftdestiny-posts @meimeimeirin @euniveve @lychniis @teabutmakeitazure @stickyspeckledlight @mochinon-yah @zhongrin @harmonysanreads @oofasleep @theinnerunderrain @ddarker-dreams

[surelysilly]

SuperPhantom Week 2024, go!

What: A week to celebrate the bestest crossover — Danny Phantom / Supernatural (TV 2005)! Fanfic, fanart, playlists/music, other multimedia or crafts, whatever you want, are all welcome! There are themed prompts for each day, so try to include it and more or as little as you want!

When: September 7th, 2024 - September 13th, 2024

Day 1: Sept. 7th - Divine / Impiety Day 2: Sept. 8th - Strange Day 3: Sept. 9th - Family / Outsider Day 4: Sept. 10th - Song (Fic) Day 5: Sept. 11th - Right / Left Day 6: Sept. 12th - Tools of the Trade Day 7: Sept. 13th - Free

*I will catch up on what I've missed in the following week to the best of my ability, but can't guarantee any swiftness. Submissions may show up the day after their prompt as I queue them up.

Sentence prompt for the week:

“Hey, it’s okay, it’s okay.”

How: Post your works on Tumblr with the tags #superphantomweek2024 and #superphantom. I’ll reblog them here! Submissions to the week can also be added to this Ao3 Collection!

Just want everyone to have fun with this old little crossover here, so be free and be merry!!! <3

Below are extra details and information for each day.

Honorable mentions for extra brownie points:

Focus on side characters from either show! Last (few) season(s) nonsense Where do ghosts fit in the war between heaven and hell?

Day 1: Sept. 7th - Divine / Impiety

Do you think God lives in Heaven because He, too, lives in fear of what He's created Here on Earth? - Spy Kids 2

Divine: Angelic Presence, Angels, Grace, Holy, God(s), Wings, Pie, Fudge, Resurrection, Prophets

Impiety: Deals, Crossroads, Demon, Betrayal, Curse, Desecration, King of Hell, Abomination, Half-human (Nephilim, Cambion), Halfas (Half Angel & Half Ghost)

Day 2: Sept. 8th - Strange

There's something wrong with those boys... Something off about that house...

Too Many Eyes, Charade, Fleeting Glimpses, Veil, Death Defying, Midwestern Gothic, Limbo/Purgatory, Horror, Biblically Accurate, Ghosts, Weird Age Club

Day 3: Sept. 9th - Family / Outsider

This is about the blood of the covenant and the water of the womb, or neither or.

Family: Children, Childhood, Siblings, Old Friend, Blood, Fluff, Teamwork, Bonds

Outsider: Accidental Meeting, Secret, Outside POV, Found Footage, Ghost Facers, Wrongfully Accused, Strange Bedfellows, Incorrect Assumptions

Day 4: Sept. 10th - Song (Fic)

We've got a long road ahead of us... can't just sit in silence! Or can we...?

Mixtape, CD burn, Radio, Voice, Enochian, Ghost Speak, Silence, Lullaby

Day 5: Sept. 11th - Right / Left

The usual canon divergence, even canon compliance... or something even further removed!

Right: Time Travel, Pre-canon, The End AU, It's a Terrible Life AU

Left: Roleswap, Fantasy AU, Sci-fi, Multi-Crossover

Day 6: Sept. 12th - Tools of the Trade

These vary by profession. What are yours?

Overshadowing, Shot gun, Blade, Salt Circle, Trap, Ghost Portal, Ectoplasm, Impala, Feton AV, Cold Iron, Disguise, Fire, Possession, Wail, Monster of the Week, Summoning

Day 7: Sept. 13th - (Team) Free (Will)

New beginnings. Final endings. Let's do it all over again, it's only just getting started. Or is it?

Friday the 13th, Unlucky, Carry On My Wayward Son, Thrill, whatever you want!

*Take what you like, leave what you don't; these are all just extra suggestions for each day to help get the brain wrinkling up! Send any questions my way~