#ACTUALLY JUST DEEPLY DEEPLY WEIRD AND DISTURBED

[titsthedamnseason]

i actually was quite excited to start this book today because FINALLY it’s almost over i’m free from the clutches and then i saw the chapter count. and then i saw the page count. and then i threw up

[clonewarsahsoka]

My nervous system has been soooo fucked the last few days due to #Emotions!

[jellofish-plant]

Rest in Red

Pairing: Jason Todd (Red Hood) x Reader

Summary: Sleeping next to Jason Todd is never boring. From his protective instincts to his late-night vulnerability, every night with him is an unpredictable mix of comfort, restlessness, and quiet love. Whether he’s pulling you closer in his sleep, mumbling sweet nothings without realizing it, or fighting his own inner demons, one thing is certain Jason sleeps best when he’s with you.

[Masterlist]

Sleeping Headcanons with Jason Todd x Reader

Big Spoon Energy:  Jason loves being the big spoon. He won’t say it outright, but holding you close makes him feel grounded. Even on nights when he’s restless, having you in his arms calms him down.

Restless Sleeper: Thanks to his past (and, let’s be real, his terrible sleep schedule), Jason doesn’t sleep deeply. He tosses and turns a lot, and if he’s had a bad night, he might wake up in a cold sweat. But the moment you reach for him, he relaxes almost instantly.

Protective Even in Sleep: His arms are always around you, even unconsciously. If you move, he tightens his hold slightly, as if making sure you’re still there. If he senses any kind of disturbance (like a weird noise outside), he’s alert in seconds, ready to protect you.

Sleeps Better With You: Before you, Jason was used to sleeping alone or barely sleeping at all. Now? The bed feels empty without you. If you’re not there, he either stays up waiting or texts you to come back ASAP.

Mumbling in His Sleep: If he’s in a deep sleep, Jason sometimes mumbles. It’s usually just low, incoherent grumbles, but on rare occasions, you’ll catch him murmuring your name or telling you he loves you without even realizing it.

Forehead Kisses Before Sleep: No matter how tired he is, Jason always presses a lazy kiss to your forehead before drifting off. It’s his silent way of saying, I love you, and I’m glad you’re here.

Late-Night Talks: Some nights, neither of you can sleep, so you just lay there, whispering about anything and everything. Jason opens up the most during these moments, sharing thoughts he wouldn’t say in the daylight.

Mornings Are a Struggle: Jason is not a morning person. If you try to get up early, he’ll groan, pull you back into his arms, and mumble, “Five more minutes.” (Five minutes actually means an hour.)

Post-Mission Crashes: After a long night as Red Hood, Jason sometimes just collapses into bed with you, too exhausted to move. You’ll have to help him take off his boots or jacket, and he’ll murmur a soft, “You’re the best,” before immediately passing out.

Nightmares & Comfort: Jason’s past still haunts him, and sometimes he wakes up in a panic. When that happens, he grips onto you like you’re his lifeline. If you run your fingers through his hair and whisper soothing words, he’ll calm down, murmuring a quiet “Thanks, babe” before falling back asleep.

Unexpected Softness: For someone so tough and battle-worn, Jason is incredibly soft when he sleeps. His breathing evens out, his usually furrowed brows relax, and his grip on you becomes gentle. It’s one of the only times he truly looks at peace.

tag list:

@a-brilliante-mariposa

[huggingtentacles]

I crave immortality more than anything. It would fix all of my problems. Whatever pain I have would be truly and utterly temporary. There isn't much I wouldn't give up to live forever.

When you're anything like me, you'll find it really weird how most media, good or bad, takes an anti-immortality stance. Immortals are almost always villains. Immortality is portrayed as something that strips you of your identity, turns you into a monster, or more often than not, reveals the "monster you've always been within" or something cruel like that. The means of achieving immortality is always sacrificing yourself or someone else.

To me this stance reveals something deeply disturbing about the author's feelings about existence in general. It reads to me like "Existence itself is a curse, wanting more of it is wrong."

A few months ago I made a post where I basically asked the question, what's so bad about making everyone live 1000 years? It's not like anyone is forcing you to live that long, giving everyone ten times the potential lifespan can only be a good thing. And a really common answer I got was like "I don't even want to live the remaining 60-50 years I already have, 1000 is way too much" and like.. that's so sad.

That also leads me to another thought that like, we treat wanting to die as a mental illness and a sign of depression for 70 years of a person's life and then at some point we all just decide that actually, it's fine for a person of this age to talk about their death and funeral, about how they're tired of living and such.. That's deeply fucked up to me. It's unfair.

If I could live forever I would, and I hate the thought of aging and dying eventually.

[ew-selfish-art]

DCxDP AU: Danny and Damian are actually twins but were never raised together- Talia would divide her time between bases, spending time with them separately (but spending more time with Damian). Jason technically only met Danny in his time with the LoA.

It still a very tenuous truce that Jason has with his family when he finally joins them for breakfast after a late night of busting a drug ring. And sue him, he's never cared to look at the little one that closely when he's not pointing a knife in his direction. But then the little Bat Brat turned his face towards the ray of light streaming into the family room of the Manor and Jason caught a closer look to the… green color. Huh.

“Hey demon, when you died did you come back with those green eyes?” Jason calls out, and perhaps it’s a little antagonistic but something deeply unsettles the crime lord about this.

“Tt. I’ve always had green eyes Todd. Your observation skills remain dulled-“ Damian begins to berate him but Jason’s scowl deepens and he interrupts.

“No, they were definitely Bruce’s color blue when I met you with Talia- I punched your lights out because of it remember?” Jason supplies, looking perturbed and having a small child look equally perturbed back at him.

“You never met me in Nanda Parbat. And mother would have never allowed you to attack above your station and live.”

“Kid I literally have the scars from my punishment. My memory from that time after the pit might not be great or even good but I know, I know I punched your lights out.”

“No doubt you have been fooled by a clone then-“ Damian says but he looks upset.

“Talia called you Dami then, you’ve never let us call you that.” Jason supplies further, he was certain that Talia had introduced him as her son.

“I was never called such an informal name.” But Damian looks disturbed more than he looks like he wants to fight.

Eventually, after combing through their collective memory of Talia's where abouts and Damian's lack of interaction with Todd, it’s decided that they have to talk to Drake who was there the most recently. Neither wants to add the fact that he's also the most knowledgeable family member when it comes to the LoA now.

“Huh? Yeah, it looks like Talia kept ledgers dividing her time between two places- the journal reads like there is Dami as Damian but… maybe it’s Dami AND Damian…” Tim reviews the books he robbed them of with a fine tooth comb and suddenly this pattern of using the “nickname” and the “full name” start to show a “first child” and a “second child”.

Damian was clearly the favorite. The ‘Dami’ kid was sent away on a suicide mission pretty early in their lives, he would have left right after Todd did at the age of 8-ish. They all groaned at the cold trail following this assignment he failed to return from- it meant that they had to involve Bruce with a DNA search of the local areas the kid had been sent to across the globe. One of which, weirdly enough, was in Illinois.

…

“My name isn’t Daniel” Danny sighs at yet another event the Mansons brought him to with Vlad looking over his shoulder every five minutes.

Then the weird skinny kid who’s the big talk of the town approaches him with some guy built like a tank and says: “It’s Damian, isn’t it?”

Danny literally sinks through the floors, but in his attempts to run out the back door he’s stopped- By a guy that has Danny's own face and a very sharp looking knife pressed to Danny's throat.

In short- Danny introduced himself to the Fentons as “Dami” but they misheard him and called him Danny and fuck it, it’s close enough.

Now it turns out that their mother only planned on one surviving the artificial womb and gave them very different amounts of her time- so she just gave them the same name and reported it like she only had one child.

[i-am-countess-olivia]

This isn't some novel thought, but for me Fitzier begins in ep2, when Silna's father is brought onto Erebus

(a long-ish, GIF-heavy scene breakdown follows)

I won't cover the violations of Silna's beliefs, feelings and bodily autonomy which happen in these moments - they are of course terrible and very important. Instead, I want to focus on how the scene kicks off a new dynamic between Francis and James, how it lays a foundation for their subsequent closeness and how it changes our view of who James might be as a person.

Let’s begin.

Sir John and James arrive in the sick bay to join Stanley and Goodsir. Stanley says: "nope, not touching this one". Goodsir asks for leave to save the shaman's life. Franklin, already looking deeply disturbed by what's happening, hesitantly agrees.

Francis arrives. The operating table divides him from Franklin, Stanley and James — he is literally not on their side. All three men glare up at him as one: How is this maudlin MF going to make this horrible situation worse for us?

But while the three of them just stand there, Francis puts himself in charge. With a bit of help from McDonald, he takes hold of a distraught Silna and tries to explain what is happening, who they are, that they're not trying to do harm. It is in this moment that James becomes the only one on the opposite side of the table to step forward (to help Francis control the situation or at least to do something). He looks compelled to action but cannot act.

Okay... so here we see that maybe this guy isn't just Franklin's poodle (we saw a bit of that earlier in the episode - more on that later).

Meanwhile Franklin, as soon as Francis takes control, BUGGERS OFF. Of course this can be justified by him already having given his orders and no longer needing to be involved, but we know that a) he sneaks off when the situation is clearly fraught and Francis is clearly better suited to handle it, knowing Inuktitut among other things and b) he actually ends up hiding out in his cabin, freaking out while listening to the howls of the dying man. This is too strange, too awful for him. Not to mention: oh god, I'm stuck in the ice, I've just lost a lieutenant, I keep losing men, what are they going to think of me?

While Sir John is off having a lil meltdown.... James' eyes are firmly on Francis.

We don't even see him acknowledge his captain's departure.

But why is James there? The obvious answer is: to report back to Sir John, to make sure things don't get weird and that Francis doesn't do anything stupid on THEIR ship. After all, let's remember the last scene before this one where James is focused on Francis:

Here he was describing Francis as if he's got him pegged: he's a disappointed man, Sir John, he was no one's first choice etc etc.

I know what he is. Do you now, James?

(interesting framing the above scene, btw - James standing, active, Sir John focused on his creature comfort, the pipe, and questioning himself. James speaking in firm tones to his commander: "I will not allow..." — James is literally being reframed as a leader.)

Anyway, back to where we were.

While Goodsir sets about trying to remove the shot, we get a little glimpse of James: he looks frozen, uneasy, swaying in to stare at the wound (Oh Tobias, the actor that you are). Can we say flashbacks to the Chinese sniper? This must be seriously triggering for him. Something is shifting.

(Another aside: James is standing next to Stanley, the man who dug out the shot when he was hit by the sniper. That same man is now refusing to help. Hm.)

Next, Goodsir says: I can't save this man. Here something important happens: James and Francis share a look.

This is Francis, for the first time, acknowledging not just James still being in the bay at all — but that the two of them are in this moment together! Francis' eyes saying to James: I'm about to tell this woman her father is going to die and James acknowledging in return how awful that is. He presses his mouth, drops his eyes.

The little flash of connection doesn't last. When Silna starts to plead with her dying father, James once again reaches out across the table to Francis: what is she saying? But it's maybe too pushy, too "I need to be told what's going on" so Francis ignores him and it's McDonald who answers.

Next, Silna launches herself at her dying father. Here, once again, James tries to take an active role, to "help" by following Francis' cues on what to do.

James has been watching, learning, asking questions and now looks desperate to be part of the solution to this awful situation: to be in this with Francis. Look how similar their gestures are, how James looks to Francis for direction.

---

STOP - DOOM HAMMER TIME

The VERY first scene in which Francis and James become partners, take action together to keep something from happening, they effectively set in motion one of the biggest causes of their doom: Silna's father doesn't die as he should, Tuunbaq is not bound to anyone. Oh man. That's a whole other essay.

---

(Back to the scene....)

While they're wrestling with Silna, James, clearly emotional and upset by what is taking place, reaches out again, perhaps this time more sincerely: Look at me, Francis, I'm trying to help, at least tell me what's happening? This time Francis acknowledges him — actually SPEAKS to him for the first time.

In response, James looks particularly vulnerable and distraught.

Silna's father dies. We see how different James' reaction is to Francis'. Poor James. Maybe he wants a little bit more from Francis in that moment, one more shared look. Francis doesn't give it to him.

Aaaaaand here we are, it's almost over. Franklin swans in, the really bad, bloody stuff having already been dealt with. He re-asserts his command by giving an order to James to escort Silna off the ship. James… doesn't exactly spring into action. In fact, he doesn't even acknowledge the order verbally, unlike Stanley. What's going on in his head? What does he think about Francis in that moment?

Anyway, let's wrap up.

So much of this scene is about the shift in James’ perception of Francis. He suddenly sees a man who is hands-on, who can take charge, who doesn't walk away from a terrible and unusual situation, even when it's clear there's no good outcome. And of course he knows Sir John skipped off at first opportunity.

Francis, meanwhile, only briefly appears to acknowledge James —but only as far as we can see. Francis of course knows that James was there, that he stayed behind, that he tried to help, that he tried to understand.

This knowledge and this changed dynamic become apparent immediately, in the very next scene.

LOOK HOW THEY ARE FRAMED!!!

Sir John is already receding into the background. James and Francis sit — still opposite sides of a table but in essentially the same pose. They are partners, mirrors, leaning into each other. The few glances here, small as they are, are NOT at Sir John, but between James and Francis.

Anyway, here you go, that's me done. I fucking love this show.

[saintshigaraki]

it actually does really really really deeply disturb me that there seems to be genuine disgust regarding women with bushes like why do u want to see women hairless so much. its weird. why cant we just admit that it's so fucking weird that its now the norm and odd to not be constantly waxing/shaving hair that naturally grows there. not to be dramatic but it seems insidious somehow

[megapteraurelia]

tldr; — kenma x you | hq

SUMMARY; they said long distance relationships are hard, but kenma had always made you feel like it was easy. WARNINGS; long distance relationships; fluff; angst; mention of fps games (bleh!!) WORD COUNT; 1017.

kenma. — then.

the sound of gunfire echoed through kenma's headset. last player standing. it was 1v3, definitely doable. his heart wasn't racing, but his concentration was sharp, his fingers sharper as they danced across his keyboard.

"he's on B," someone whispered, voice so quiet as to not disturb his focus, but kenma thought it was unnecessary. it was a good comm; there was no need to be so scared. he exhaled through his nose, pinky pressing down on the shift-button until the last second before he turned the corner to peek—

his phone buzzed.

it sat on the edge of his desk, screen lighting up with a name that had his hands grow sweaty and his heart to stutter.

heyy. are you busy?

he glanced down, eyes flitting to the screen, then back to the game, then to the screen again.

a message. from you. he should probably wait until after the round to text you, after the tension had faded, after the game was over. his teammates were still calling out anything they saw on the mini map, any util that sounded out in the distance, but they felt distant.

the words on the screen were so simple, but his heart thudded strong in his chest. he didn't know what it was about you, but you made everything quieter, softer, more real and more rooted in this real life that he often times always wanted to escape. he felt the weight of his fingers on the mouse. he should just win the game, he thought. but when it came to you, he always felt like he had to be different. like he had to do more, something he wasn't sure how to do, but that gnawed at him until—

kenma reached for his phone with one hand, the other still on his mouse. quickly with a dry throat, before he could second-guess it, he typed back.

playing. but not too busy

a flash. gunfire.

he died instantly.

"DUDE, what the hell?" someone groaned into kenma's ear, frustration thick in his voice, "you threw that."

kenma didn't respond to his teammate. instead, he muted his teammates, his own microphone, and leaned back in his chair to stare at the message thread, breath shallow. he stared and waited for the three dots to appear, waited for his heart to do the tell-tale sign of skipping a thousand beats.

he sent another message, because he thought he may lose his courage if he didn't.

though i actually died to respond mid-match

his leg was whipping up and down impatiently, time not moving fast enough, his pulse quickening in the way it always did when it came to you, like he was standing too close to the edge of something he wasn't sure he could handle. something that wasn't a game.

when your response came through finally, his ears flushed deeply, quiet settling in his room.

you died for me? that's kind of romantic, ken

a moment later:

don't make it weird. (but yeah)

kenma. — now.

the call had been silent for a while now. he sat with his headphones still on, listening to the soft ambient hum of your room through the microphone; the sounds barely there. no laughter, no soft talking, no you. just the vague, distant rustle that indicated there was somebody existing on the other side.

he thought the silence settled like dust around him, and then you spoke, your voice tinged with the kind of exhaustion that went beyond the physical.

"are you tired?"

he was slow in his reply, even though it was only one word, "yeah."

"i can go. if you want."

even slower. "okay."

the call ended. kenma thought he should have said something; anything that could be considered a proper goodbye, but he didn't. he couldn't.

he knew he was being an idiot. an asshole. the type of person he thought he couldn't be, yet even as he let the distance grow, he couldn't force himself to admit it.

you were still here. he could feel you, somewhere, waiting for his reply, waiting for him to be there, waiting and hoping. he didn't know why you still were, he didn't know why you still waited. he wished you didn't.

his thumb hovered over his phone, the chat window still open in front of him. there were your messages, and they weren't lots. just small, three-worded sentences, yet they ate at him with their sharp teeth.

are you busy? i miss you

kenma had wanted to ignore you. he also had wanted to reply. had wanted to tell you that he missed you, too. but he couldn't get the words past his lips, couldn't say them when they felt so wrong and so hollow, like they wouldn't reach you in the way they used to.

he typed something, and deleted it again.

you deserved better, he thought. he thought you did when he woke up and saw the good morning message on his phone, he thought you did when he went a whole day without texting or calling you and didn't even notice until you were the one who caved in and always texted first, he thought you did every time the call ended and every time the silence stretched between you. every time he didn't know what to say.

his fingers had moved again, tapping out the words.

kinda playing. but not too busy

when the reply came back, he felt the weight of it more than he should have.

okay.

that was it. nothing more. just this one word digging deeply in between his ribs right in his chest. he could hear the emptiness in that word, could feel it in the way your texts weren't coming like they used to. not with the same frequency, not with the same warmth.

he wished he could pull you back, but the truth was that when he opened his hands, they were empty. he had nothing to offer anymore, nothing to give.

i'm sorry, he thought to nobody but his own useless self. he couldn't even type these words.

instead, he logged off.

TAGLIST | @takes1 @classicalelephant @pomigranit

[feelfreetopleasemexo]

Star-whores (Bakugoxreader - he asks her to dress up for him.)

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️🧡🧡🧡〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

If there’s one undeniable truth about Katsuki Bakugo, it’s that he’s beyond dominant. In every aspect of his life, he is the leader and always has been, ever since childhood. If he wanted something, he got it, if he was challenged he would win, no matter the cost he would come out on top.

After classes, your usual routine would be to both hang out in either kirishima or Kaminaris room, all fuck about playing games, teasing each other or eating food, then when the night grew darker, shuffling back to either yours or his bed. But tonight? Tonight he wanted to go straight to your room.

“Cm,ere. I wanna try something.” As soon as you walked through the dorms front doors, he grabbed your wrist and dragged you to your room. Kicking the door nearly off its hinges, you started to feel the nervousness grow in your stomach. Was this the night he was going to ask for something particularly dangerous in the bedroom? Some deeply disturbing sexual fantasy he’d dreamt about, and had now suddenly mustered up the courage to ask for it? You gulped as he sat on your bed and patted his thighs for you to take your usual seat.

As you approached him, you sat down nervously and wrapped your arms around his neck, hiding your face instantly in the nook of his neck. He traced circles on your back under your shirt, and as his rough, burnt fingers slide slightly lower around your hips you bucked back and push his hands off.

“What’s got you all nervous? Dont you wanna fuck around like usual?” His voice sharp, to the point, but with softness laced delicately underneath.

“What did you….yano, wanna try then?” You tried to sound your usual cocky self, but no matter how hard you tried, he always saw straight through you. He pulled your head back into his neck and squeezed his arm around you in a tender yet possessive cuddle.

“Im not going to set you on fire.” He smirked, smelling the fact you used the new shampoo he insisted you buy last week, and cuddled you slightly tighter. You let out a small giggle, impressed he could tell you were worried bout a fantasy, but still slightly concerned it jumped straight to being set alight.

“Look, it’s in my bag, wait here.” He threw you playfully over his shoulder letting you bramble into your squishmellow army that protected your bed. As he walked back towards you, you could see he was holding a large bag behind his back. He quickly threw it at you and turned around, letting you open it without being watched. You pulled out a bra that was a weird brownygreen that looked like it had a golden vine clawing up it, and then a dark red cloth thing that was attached to a golden thong. Puzzled, you then pulled out golden thick cuffs that looked like they were from medieval times… peaking at you from the corner of his eye, his laugh started to growl lowly from his lips. As you looked up at him holding the strange pieces in your hands, your confusion made his laugh bellow from his throat, almost making him cry actual tears.

“You don’t know what it’s from do you?” He snickered, trying to contain himself.

“Um….i dont even what it is, let alone what it’s….from?”

“Bring her to me.” He quotes in a very strange, gargled voice. Your confusion only worsens as his smirk grows wilder. You whisper ‘what the fuck’ under your breath.

“Just put it on. You’ll see. Princess.” With that he winks, clicks his tongue then turns back around.

You try your best to put the strange things on, eventually realising it’s meant to be some kind of sexy underwear set, maybe? As you think you’ve finished, you suddenly click once the shackles are on.

“It’s fucking Star Wars isn’t it….” His laugh made him throw his head back as he asks if you’re ready yet, desperately trying not to swing his head back already. “Eeeer, I think so?”

He spins around slowly and as he sees you stood there in the Princess Leia slave outfit, his jaw immediately drops. He’s usually such a charismatic, cool, laid back guy when it comes to seeing you dressed up, but right now? His inner nerd was freaking the fuck out. He almost immediately rushed and tackled you to the bed. The force of his kiss almost suffocating you, his hands wildly reaching over your body, nearly ripping the fabric off of you already. As he caressed you, you could feel his cock already rock hard pressing into your pelvis, with such a force that you were almost adamant he was going to break through his school trousers. Suddenly he flips you over, hands on your hips, rocking you back and forth as he digs his nails into your sides. This passion, this aggression, it usually didn’t peak until he was actually inside of you, so it shocked you slightly as he began to leave bites marks all over your neck and chest.

Suddenly, a large knock at your door interrupted his moans.

“Fuck off extra. We’re busy.” He said, your flesh still between his teeth. As he was saying this, the door flung open and kirishima and kaminari fell into your room. They both stood there stunned at the sight of princess leia straddling Bakugo. You shot up, turned around and screamed at them to leave, trying your best to cover your tits from leaking out of the weird bra thing. Bakugo just swung his hands behind his head, proudly showing off to his two best friends that his girlfriend indeed agreed to wear the outfit. They both tried to cover their eyes and scramble out of your room, bumping into each other, the wall them your door, behind Kaminari poked his head around the door again and gawked at you. You threw a plushie at his head as he then slammed the door shut. Bakugo could not contain his pride, smiling up at you like he was the king of the world, as he flexed his biceps under his head.

“They both owe me a tenner now.” He smirked, seemingly so proud that not only did you agree to wear it, but he had undeniable, concrete proof that you did so. You smashed his chest with your fist in embarrassment, but before it connected he grabbed your wrist and tightly squeezed it, making you let out a small yelp.

“Now now, that’s not what slaves do. And if they did….” He flings you around so you’re under him again, growling an inch away from your throat. “They’d get punished.”

[princesssmars]

just thinking of softly reconnecting with vi after so many years apart :c

let’s say after the explosion happened you had stuck together with ekko, helping him build and nurture the firelights from the ground up into the thriving community it is today. after coming to terms with what you’d lost and possibly losing jinx sooner or later, you saw ekko as the only family you had left and trusted him more than any one or anything.

which is why she when he gets back from some secretive day trip he’d gone out on he brings you with him to see what he’d found - who he had found.

for the first few seconds you thought she was a ghost, a cruel trick your mind was playing on you by projecting your fears of being scared for ekko into your dead best friend, more than your friend, into what she’d look like today if she was still by your side. if everything that had happened simply didn’t.

but before you can react she’s slipping out of her cuffs (you’d always told ekko that he never fastened them tight enough for zaunites) and lifting you in her arms,your brain catching up and getting out all the buried emotions in the force of your hug.

once you both calm down she explains everything, always so open to you, how she had been taken and thrown in still water for years and had gotten out just less than a day ago, she’d never leave you and ekko and jin powder behind, not even to save her own skin from the destruction of that day.

and as much as the explanation calmed you you knew and reassured her you didn’t need it, taking her hand in yours and pressing it to your chest, heart swelling at the tears appearing at the corners of her eyes.

she and her companion are given only a few days to rest and heal with the firelight’s before they need to return some weird important blue gem they’d found, but until then you don’t leave vi’s side. you show her around the base, make sure she’s eating an actual meal for the first time in years, and that she’s not straining her injury whether she’d gotten it healed by shimmer or not.

by the time night falls you can slowly but surely see the energy coming back to her body. well, spiritually, not physically. you show her to one of the spare quarters for new firelights. you don't have a choice but to join her when her hand tightens around your wrist and drags you in with her, plopping the both of you on the plush of the bed.

its cute how she almost seems to melt into it, lashes fluttering and looking on the near brink of sleep in only five seconds before your giggling brings her back, reluctantly moving so that you can scoot into bed behind her.

you can tell she’s still on edge when you gently place your hand on her head, taking care to use gentle movements as you move her to lie on top of you so you don’t disturb her. you can see the scars on her back peeking out from under her shirt and it takes everything in you to blink away the tears forming. there was a time when vi would initiate affection with you so earnestly, wrapping you and her other loved ones into her arms until your stomach felt like it'd burst from love. and now she was rigid at you softly brushing her hair.

clearly, your silence and reluctance make it obvious why you’re being so delicate because she gives a brief explanation of what happened to her in stillwater, her breath quietly hitching in parts where she can't hide how deeply what happened affected her. by the time she's done you can feel stray tears falling down your face, hands trembling as you hug her ever closer to you.

she buries herself impossibly closer to you, lashes tickling your chest as she press her lips to your sternum in an act so desperate you think calling it a kiss is a disservice. you can feel her relax as you start to brush her hair and talk to her aimlessly, about all of the things she's missed, things you cant wait to show her now that she's back.

it's the best night's sleep she had in years.

[millysastroblog]

SHAKING MY HEAD ASTRO NOTES PT.6_ MEN Edition 🙋🏽‍♂️

🙋🏽‍♂️Pisces placements men make for cheaters, lyiers and professional love bombers that’s why everybody hates them because they will make you feel like you are their dream women until you find out he told the same thing to your cousin 😓

🙋🏽‍♂️Taurus placement males like to impress the girl their dating with material possessions or with saying things like “they are a provider”, some of them are cheap and stingy while others try to create a comfortable space for you it’s either hit or miss

🙋🏽‍♂️Venus in Gemini men love you, your sister, and aunt EVERYBODY 🫣 (he belongs to the streets not you girl)

🙋🏽‍♂️Moon in Capricorn guys be giving 🤖 (like sir why are you so stiff)

🙋🏽‍♂️Mercury - Pluto guys be suspicious of everything and very defense if you voice an honest statement

🙋🏽‍♂️Run from Sun square Neptune, Mars square Neptune guys the will tell you any every thing but the truth these are the guys who will have a whole family behinds your back and pretend like its nothing, because they are deeply insecure within their masculine energy. they like to portray to their victims a picture perfect image when in reality they have a lot if unknown secrets behind the closet (and no it don’t mean it in a gay way , thread lightly)

🙋🏽‍♂️Sun conjunct Chiron guys are also very insecure and come of to the opposite gender as shy, weak and timid

🙋🏽‍♂️Sun in Scorpio , Moon in Virgo guys give literally JOE , like these guys become so obsessive and weird once they like someone. They have this weird disturbing energy where they try to dig for every little secret you have. They probably want to be the center of your universe. And they never forget anything you said to them worst case they will use the information they have gathered against you. 💀

🙋🏽‍♂️Venus Square Mars in Males can be an indicator of them being fruity

🙋🏽‍♂️Venus conjunct Mercury know how to talk someone’s ears of, have nice voices especially in Taurus omg 😳

🙋🏽‍♂️Virgo males are just annoying and will question you on everything (like why didn’t you wear your make up today or something, like stfu i just felt like it )

(Not me having Scorpio in the 7th and only attracting Scorpio or Pluto dominat males HELPPP 😫)

🙋🏽‍♂️Libra Men placements men are ……..ummh ���🏽

🙋🏽‍♂️Sagittarius guys are actual fun guys until they will make fun of you 🤡

🙋🏽‍♂️Mars in Aquarius guys = the cool guy

🙋🏽‍♂️Venus in Capricorn are the definition of gentleman (positive)

🙋🏽‍♂️Moon /Venus conjunct Lilith , Moon/Venus aspect Pluto males love bad bitches like they actual don’t mind a little bit of mystery, mind games and coldness they prefer it to be honest because once you become soft or nice they will feel disgust 🥲

🙋🏽‍♂️Aries men come and go

🙋🏽‍♂️Sun, Mars conjunct/square/opposite Pluto guys offffff… these guys exude definitely a lot of dark sexual energy 🔥

🙋🏽‍♂️Aquarius guys have an tendency to be emotional unavaliable in relationships (they just want companionship)

🙋🏽‍♂️Venus conjunct Chiro guys : the cheated on, used one , rejected one, ugly duckly one, unrequited love one but with a big heart ❤️

⚠️MEN TO BE CAUTIOS OF⚠️:

⛔️1. Pisces Men Placements (especially Mercury, Venus)

⛔️2. Plutonic guys (Big 6 - Pluto) they need drama and transformation at your cost

⛔️3. Aquarius ,Gemini, Sagittarius Placements male (lose interest very easily, on to the next, here for a fun time not a long one)

⛔️4. Venus - Moon, Venus - Neptune (confused don’t know what they want)

⛔️5. Virgo, Libra placements (princesses)

⛔️6. Chiron guys (lovable but carry to much pain from previous connection, healing and awareness is needed)

~•Milly•~

SHAKING MY HEAD NOTES PT.5

[thatnightlamp]

Okay, this might be weird, but your post about pregnant Angron got me thinking I would love to see Sevatar finding out he's pregnant, and having to deal with telling the other parent (Surprise me. Just not Konrad.), having to navigate the awkwardness and the challenges. Like not being allowed to flay people for trying to touch his belly. Actually having to eat, sleep and take care of himself. I love both the smut, the humor and everything else.

Oh my god I really did this. !mpreg Sevatar. !OOC

Sevatar woke up with a snarl lodged somewhere between his throat and his brain, the taste of copper on his tongue and the annoying, persistent sensation of nausea roiling in his gut.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed in his personal quarters aboard Nightfall, the cold metal floor biting against bare feet. The chamber stank of old blood, incense, and the faint scent of human sweat, a reminder of his most recent, extremely poor life decision.

That poor decision was currently snoring softly in his bed, tangled in bloodstained sheets, alive. Which was, frankly, miraculous.

The mortal’s name was… fuck, what was it again? Lucan? Lukan? Something like that. A voidship rating, baseline human, the kind of idiot with enough reckless nerve to make lewd comments at a First Captain and, somehow, wind up in his bed without ending up as wall décor.

It had been a one-time thing. A stress reliever. A carnal distraction from the endless, suffocating grind of war and Konrad’s incessant brooding. Sevatar hadn’t even thought about it again.

Until now.

Because for the past three weeks, he’d been experiencing a series of unexplainable biological anomalies. Loss of appetite. Vomiting. Fatigue. A deeply disturbing softness around his abdomen that he was absolutely not going to refer to as a ‘bump.’

He hadn’t told anyone. Not yet.

It was bad enough that his own traitorous body had betrayed him. The very idea of marching up to the Apothecarion and explaining his condition, no. He’d rather throw himself out of an airlock.

So Sevatar did what any responsible First Captain would do. He conducted a highly illegal, unsanctioned self-scan using a stolen medicae servitor.

And the results… were catastrophic.

“Estimated gestational period: six weeks. Fetal development: stable. Host vitals: sub-optimal. Recommended actions: increased caloric intake, cessation of combat operations, enforced rest periods.”

He stared at the flickering hololith in the dim light of the chamber, feeling something inside him shrivel up and die.

Sevatar was pregnant.

With a baseline human’s child.

His child.

The bile rose again, and he barely made it to the corner bucket in time.

The hardest part wasn’t the nausea. It wasn’t the bone-deep fatigue, or the burning ache in his joints, or the uncharacteristic weepiness he experienced last week when a servitor dropped one of his favorite skinning knives.

No

The hardest part was telling Lucan.

He cornered the mortal in one of the storage holds, where the man was counting crates of flensing hooks. Lucan looked up, pale, sweat-soaked hair clinging to his forehead, and smiled with the kind of shit-eating confidence that had no business existing.

“Sev,” he greeted, utterly fearless. “Back for round two?”

“I’m pregnant,” Sevatar snarled.

Lucan blinked.

“...Like, with a kid?”

“No, with a fucking back-mounted assault cannon. Of course with a kid, you halfwit.” Sevatar advanced on him, teeth bared. “Your fault.”

To his credit, Lucan didn’t scream or faint. He scratched the back of his neck and muttered, “Damn. Guess contraceptives don’t work on Astartes, huh?”

Sevatar grabbed him by the front of his tunic and yanked him up to eye level. “You tell a single soul about this, and I will personally pull your spine out through your dick.”

“Noted,” Lucan croaked, but there was a grin tugging at his lips, the suicidal bastard. “So, uh… what now?”

“What now,” Sevatar growled, dropping him, “is you’re on shit duty until this parasite’s out of me. You’re responsible for making sure no one touches me, no one talks about this, and if anyone even thinks about calling me cute, you flay them alive.”

“Y’know, for a guy about to be a dad, you’re surprisingly cranky.”

Sevatar drew his combat knife in one smooth motion, and Lucan wisely bolted.

It got worse.

News spread faster aboard Nightfall than a plague. Sevatar wasn’t sure how. Maybe someone overheard Lucan at the mess, maybe someone saw him eating a second ration bar, maybe his mood swings tipped them off.

Sevatar entered the strategium one evening to find Talos, and two other Night Lords huddled over a holomap, who immediately straightened with expressions ranging from horror to barely-suppressed laughter.

Talos cleared his throat. “Captain. Uh… heard you’re expecting.”

Sevatar’s eyelid twitched. “Who told you?”

“Does it matter?” Talos grinned, sharp and unrepentant. “We’ve taken the liberty of compiling a list of potential names.”

Sevatar drew his bolt pistol, aimed it at the holomap, and fired.

There were rules now.

Konrad’s rules.

Apparently, the Primarch had felt something through whatever psychic connection tied them together, and demanded an explanation.

Sevatar still remembered the expression on Curze’s face — a mixture of morbid fascination and quiet, exhausted horror.

“You will not engage in frontline combat. You will not starve yourself. You will not execute any crew who touch you accidentally.You will eat, sleep, and rest. You will not compromise this Legion’s genetic legacy out of spite.”

“Genetic legacy? It’s half-baseline.”

“It’s still yours,” Konrad had muttered. “Now go eat something before I restrain you myself.”

It was humiliating.

Sevatar found himself assigned a minder, Lucan, naturally — who hovered obnoxiously at his side during meals, handing him nutrient bars and muttering things like “the little parasite needs calories, boss.”

Worse, the other Astartes started treating him differently. Not with mockery, no one was suicidal enough for that, but with a kind of cautious deference usually reserved for unexploded munitions.

Sevatar hated it.

The cravings were the worst.

He woke one cycle at 03:00 with an overwhelming, soul-devouring need for pickled corpse-meat and caramel nutrient paste.

Lucan, half-asleep in a corner hammock (because the fool had apparently moved into his quarters for safety), groaned as Sevatar dragged him bodily from his blanket cocoon.

“You’re coming to the galley.”

“It’s the middle of sleep shift—”

“I will gut you with a spoon.”

Ten minutes later, Sevatar sat on a rusted bench in the galley, shoveling down a bowl of unholy culinary abominations while Lucan nursed a cup of corpse-starch brew and watched with a mixture of horror and amusement.

“You know,” Lucan said slowly, “I always figured if anyone in this Legion got knocked up, it’d be Talos.”

Sevatar flung a pickled eyeball at his head.

Six weeks later, Sevatar was miserable.

His armor didn’t fit right. His tolerance for stupidity was at an all-time low. He couldn’t spar, couldn’t skulk around the decks at odd hours, and worst of all, his reflexes had dulled just enough that Talos actually bested him in a practice bout.

The indignity.

Lucan, for his part, hadn’t abandoned ship yet. The mortal followed him like a particularly annoying dog, tolerated his mood swings, fetched him whatever strange food he demanded, and even once punched a cocky Night Lord sergeant in the face for making a joke about ‘baby bumps.’

The idiot was growing on him.

Which was a problem.

Because Sevatar had no idea what the fuck he was going to do when the time came.

He lay awake in his quarters one evening, staring at the ceiling, feeling the strange, alien sensation of something small and living fluttering in his belly.

Lucan snored beside him, dead to the world.

Sevatar sighed.

“Stupid, reckless, resilient little shit,” he muttered, one hand resting on his abdomen.

He wasn’t sure if he meant the mortal or the kid.

Maybe both.

[goomyloid]

I think a lot about a version of the pacifist route Spamton fight where Kris goes down there with just Noelle instead and has the same post-battle freak out and Noelle being the one to notice/ask if they’re okay. And how she would react to the strained Yes vs yelled No. Especially knowing how she's so determined to figure out what's up with Kris in the weird route, I think it's interesting if she has the same attention to detail and desire to understand what's happening to Kris in the pacifist route.

ok my jaw kinda dropped open reading this. i have honestly never thought of this before and now im going Crazy. oh my gourd i reeeeeally hope someday in the future we get to face a secret boss with noelle…. it would be so awesomes

there is a real difference between how kris acts around noelle vs. how they act around ralsei and susie… because the latter two are ‘newer’ friends with less complicated history i feel as though they’re more straightforward and open around them in a sense. like theyre Able to bring themself to yell NO because they know in the back of their head that both susie and ralsei will try to comfort kris in their own ways. along with that, i guess it’s because of susie’s insistence on finding out if kris is okay or not that they managed to ask them if they were ok at all. basically, its multiple cases of less people holding back on various things…

i personally imagine it being kind of different for noelle. she Thinks a lot of things without actually saying them. she probably wouldn’t stop everything to question that just happened with spamton neo, and if she were to ask kris if they were ok, it would be more based on a gut feeling that something is really wrong more than anything else, if that makes sense… the way kris is friends with noelle is different than how they’re friends with susie. theyre almost less straightforward with noelle, with their idea of bonding being silly pranks and messing with her (stuff kris wouldnt do to susie lol). i wonder if they’d be able to be honest about how they felt like how they were with susie and ralsei, or if it’d turn into them hiding how they feel even more… (something something It’s hard for noelle to get a straightforward answer from kris in general)

noelle being concerned about what’s “happening” to kris in the main route feels difficult, maybe just because it’s so amplified negatively in the weird route, but at this point in time, most people seem to be interpreting kris’s more social behavior as a good thing… when something actually appears to be Wrong for the first time (kris freaking out after spamton neo), susie has no good benchmark of what kris was really like before, and ralsei is being Ralsei-ish about it… if kris were to have the same reaction in front of noelle after all, i think it would deeply disturb her way more than any other character. personally i just dont think kris is the Yelling Type, like at all, so for noelle to hear that from them for the first time (or maybe she’s heard kris yell before in a really bad situation, which then might let her know just how Bad this all is) it would probably really surprise her, and kris would probably regret shouting as a result… not a funny prank

just in general i think kris has a weird combination of like, wanting someone to Notice that something’s different, but also pushing people away out of fear and desire for solitude (and again this applies more so to noelle specifically). like in the main route, it might be easier to believe that things working out for everyone this way is just Better, no one else needs to worry about the Weird Fucking Thing controlling them, they can handle this on their own… until they cant. general desire to not burden others if at all possible. ALL OF THIS IS TO SAY noelle would Really have to lock in and pry at kris a little bit in order to find out that they are “not them” because in the main route where things Aren’t bad, that desperation from the soul doing fuck all in the weird route isnt there anymore

ok im gonna end the post here… your scenario activated a lot of neurons i never even knew i had

[spicycinnabun]

another ficlet from the same verse as i’m sorry, christofern 🪴

~

Eddie unbuttoned the top two buttons of his dress shirt. He couldn’t breathe. The waiter was sneering down at him—at his piercings, tattoos, fingernails blackened with polish and chipping. He didn’t belong at this fine establishment, and it was noticeable to everyone.

The piano man was going to town playing a Beethoven Sonata near their table, and Eddie was this close to shoving him off the bench and showing him how to play some real fucking music.

But Steve was also sitting across from him, looking suave with his hair combed back like an old Hollywood movie star. He was beaming at Eddie, and Eddie was helpless to it.

Even if the menu was giving him a goddamn heart attack, and he was trying not to keel over behind it as Steve ordered the lobster bisque—to start.

Eddie ordered the garden salad.

Steve gave him a weird look. “You sure that's what you want? I thought you didn't like salad.”

“I’m sure,” Eddie said. The salad wouldn't demolish his wallet like any of the things that actually sounded good. “I’m turning over a new leaf. Eating healthier.”

“Uh-huh. You’re already as skinny as a string bean. I don't think you need to eat healthier. You probably need to eat more."

“No can do. I’ve become a slut for vegetables.” Eddie grinned. It was maniacal. “Can't resist a big, juicy cucumber in my mouth.”

The waiter left, looking deeply disturbed, and Steve kicked him under the table, blushing. “Eddie! Jesus.”

“What? Can't a man freely express his joy for deepthroating gourds?”

Steve choked on his water, putting the glass down hastily as he coughed. “You’re such a…” He didn't finish that sentence, but Eddie could fill in the blank.

💚🌱🌿💚

Their first course came, and Eddie pretended to like his salad.

“Yeah, you really look like you're into that,” Steve said, stirring his soup.

Eddie swallowed hard. “It’s absolutely succulent, Steven, thank you.”

He absolutely hated it. The slimy vinaigrette, too.

“Oh, man. Look at that string of pearls,” Steve said, letting it go as he pointed over Eddie’s shoulder. “I’d like one of those.”

Usually, Eddie was the one lacking manners. “Kinda rude to point at people, baby.”

Also, pearls? Eddie was going to be in the red right after this dinner. He hoped Steve wasn’t expecting those any time soon.

Steve laughed, dropping his hand on the table. “No, I’m not. Look.”

Eddie turned in his chair, then groaned in realization when he saw what was hanging from the ceiling.

Steve wasn’t pointing at some woman wearing a pearl necklace. He was geeking out over a fucking plant. Even in public, he was a devoted plant daddy.

“We can get you one of those,” Eddie told him. Steve wanted a pearl plant? Done.

Steve leaned back in his seat, assessing him with his warm brown gaze. Eddie tried not to squirm. “What?”

“You don't like it here.”

Eddie balked. “I like it fine—” he started, then deflated a little under Steve’s skeptical eyebrow quirk. “Okay, I don't like it here. But you do, right?”

“It actually kinda reminds me of my parents.” Steve’s nose wrinkled. “I just wanted to have a good time with you and treat you to something special, but it backfired on me.”

Oh. Hell.

“Hey, it didn't backfire, sweetheart,” Eddie told him, voice low. His hand twitched. He wanted to reach across the table for Steve’s but knew he couldn’t—especially not here. Here, they were no more than friends.

“You wanna ditch and go get a pizza?” Steve asked, nails scratching along the crisp white tablecloth like he was thinking the same thing. “We can catch the next creature feature at the drive-in. Eat on the hood of my car?”

Eddie sighed, feeling his entire self relax. “Oh fuck yes, please. Let’s go.”

They grinned at each other and got up, slinging on their coats. They paid for their half-eaten meals. Neither of them tipped the snooty waiter.

Steve caught his hand in the parking lot as they walked to his car. It was risky, but the walk was less than a minute. They linked fingers.

[gingerteafairy]

𝐬𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐫

The result of summoning a spirit without knowing it can be impressive —or highly delicious.

tags n warnings: austin sommers x reader, vampirism, witchcraft, language, dry humping, love bites. word count: 2.4k masterlist

As someone completely inexperienced and, to be honest, a little odd, you had no idea how you ended up in this situation. Alone, sitting on the floor, a single candle flickering beside you, and a man—magnificent, almost ethereal—materializing right before your eyes after you recited some silly spell you found on the internet as a joke.

"How to Summon a Vampire. 100% Foolproof Tutorial."

I mean, there was no way this could be real. It was literally from a blog written fifteen years ago, with terrible formatting and a design that looked like it had crawled straight out of the early days of the internet. And yet… there he was. Standing in your room, looking utterly unimpressed at having been disturbed.

"What, girl? Are you just gonna sit there staring at me?" he grumbled, crossing his arms impatiently. The motion caused his half-unbuttoned shirt to slip open a little more, revealing a toned chest where silver necklaces rested against his pale skin. "God, are you mute, or just stupid?"

"S-Sorry, it’s just… I didn’t think this would actually work," you stammered, blinking rapidly as if trying to force reality to make sense. You had literally summoned a vampire into your bedroom. "I was just… bored."

"Yeah, well, idle hands are the devil’s playground, huh? Your mother never taught you that?" He mocked, stretching his arms above his head like a lazy, well-fed cat. His movements were casual, yet dripping with a confidence so effortless it was almost taunting. "You should really get a better hobby than playing around with witchcraft."

"Witchcraft? But… aren’t you a vampire?" you asked, finally pushing yourself up to stand. The height difference between you became glaringly obvious—he towered over you effortlessly, his presence somehow even more imposing up close.

"Uh, duh. Look at me," he scoffed, making a dramatic gesture toward himself. When you hesitated, he rolled his eyes and let out an exasperated sigh before tugging back his upper lip with his index finger. No sharp fangs like in the movies. But still… there was something about him, something undeniably not human.

"Shit…" you whispered, leaning in slightly for a closer look. Your hand lifted instinctively, but you caught yourself halfway and quickly pulled it back.

"So? Why the hell did you summon me?" he snapped, cutting through your awe as he shoved a hand into his coat pocket. He pulled out a black pill and a small metal flask, unscrewing the lid and taking a swig. His face twisted in mild disgust—alcohol, you guessed.

You exhaled deeply. Now wasn’t the time to second-guess yourself—there was a real vampire standing in front of you.

"I want to become one," you admitted, straightening your posture in an attempt to look braver than you felt. Or at least, something close to it. “A vampire.”

He raised an eyebrow, scanning you from head to toe as if he were dissecting every detail, every cell of your body. Then, he let out a low, drawn-out chuckle. "And why do you want that?"

You hesitated. Your reason was stupid, obvious, frivolous. But something in his eyes told you he’d know if you lied. So, you decided to tell the truth.

"I'm bored."

He tilted his head slightly, a smug smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "You’re kind of weird."

"Is that a bad thing?" you asked, frowning.

"Nah," he chuckled, folding his arms across his chest. "Actually, I like it. At least it’s original."

"So… will you turn me?" you asked, eyes gleaming with anticipation.

He let out a dramatic sigh, throwing his head back before looking at you again. "I don’t know… Are you willing to pay the price?"

"Yes," you answered without hesitation. You had come this far—whatever came next was just a bonus.

"Alright then," he shrugged, loosening his arms and stepping toward you. Slowly. Deliberately.

He stopped so close you could feel his breath—a cold whisper against your skin. "You’re kinda cute," he murmured, his gaze trailing over you again. "It’d be a shame to ruin that…"

"Uh… thanks?" you replied, unsure whether it was a compliment or if he was genuinely surprised you weren’t some kind of freak.

His smile widened, amused. "Oh, this is going to be fun…"

He touched your face with his fingertips, cold skin contrasting with the heat of your body. With a subtle movement, he tilted your head to the side, exposing your neck. His gaze became intense, fixed on the spot where your pulse hammered beneath the thin skin. You felt your heart race and, instinctively, you closed your eyes—perhaps in a futile attempt to not feel so vulnerable under his predatory gaze.

“By the way, I’m Austin Sommers,” he introduced himself, his casual tone contrasting with the way he pressed his index finger against your artery, feeling each rapid beat. “You’ll need to know when you need to moan my name.”

“What? Ouch!” You let out a surprised cry when you felt something sharp tear your skin—a quick, precise cut. Before you could react, Austin had already tilted his head and pressed his mouth against the wound, his warm lips sealing themselves around your skin.

The initial shock was replaced by an alarming sensation—pleasurable, intense. His tongue slid across the cut, cleaning away the remaining blood, and a shiver ran down your spine. Your body reacted before your mind could process what was happening; your hand shot to his hair, fingers tangling in the strands as you tried to anchor yourself to something.

And God… it felt good. So damn good.

Austin pulled away slowly, his eyes half-lidded as he ran his tongue over his lower lip, collecting any lingering traces of blood. A playful smile curved his mouth as he wiped a bit of the crimson liquid from the corner with his finger—then brought it to his lips, sucking on it leisurely.

"Your blood is sweet," he mused, still savoring the taste. His gaze flickered over your face before dropping back to your neck. He lifted a hand, running a finger along your skin to gather another drop, which he lazily licked away. "Like, really sweet. Almost pure sugar."

"Is that… a good thing?" you asked awkwardly, bringing a hand to your neck. When you glanced at your palm, you noticed a thin streak of blood still trailing down your skin.

"Eh, depends," he shrugged, then gestured toward your hand. "Hey, don’t waste that."

Before you could react, he grabbed your wrist and dragged his tongue slowly across your palm, lapping up the blood with a satisfied expression.

"Actually, it’s great for me," he explained, releasing your hand with a click of his tongue. "Terrible for you though. Tell me—have you been stuffing yourself with sweets for the past three months?"

"What? That’s… weirdly specific," you frowned, thrown off by the seemingly random question.

Austin rolled his eyes, letting out a low chuckle, clearly amused by your cluelessness.

"Oh, you airhead," he taunted, crossing his arms with a smug tilt of his head. "Red blood cells take three months to regenerate. You can’t cheat the tests."

He raised an eyebrow, waiting for you to connect the dots. But when you just stared at him blankly, he let out an exaggerated sigh.

"Whatever, you weren’t required to know that," he said with a lazy smirk. Then, he stepped closer, his gaze darkening with something that sent a ripple of anticipation through your stomach.

"Either way… we need to move on to the second part of the ritual."

“Would that be… dying?” you asked, tilting your head to the side opposite where Austin had bitten you. Your voice came out lower than you intended, almost shaky, but not exactly from fear.

He let out a low, melodious laugh, filled with something indecipherable. “Wow, I love morbid witches,” you teased, a charming smile forming on his lips. “They’re the sexiest.”

Unhurriedly, he lifted his hand and touched your neck, his icy fingers gliding over the living skin. He didn’t press, just let his palm rest there, as if he were enjoying the sensation of your life pulsing beneath his touch. His fingers traced the fresh scar with a slow, almost reverent caress.

"You liked that, didn’t you?"

You held your breath, biting your lip as a shiver ran down your spine. You wanted to deny it, but the lie would have been so obvious it wasn’t even worth the effort. Nodding subtly, you finally admitted, "Yes… Strangely, it felt really good."

Gathering the courage to meet his gaze, you found those pitch-black eyes—deep as the void of night—watching you with something that made your heart hammer against your ribs.

"You want more?" he teased, his voice laced with amusement, yet something in the way he asked made the offer all the more tempting.

His fingers ghosted along the back of your neck, curling into your hair and giving a gentle, yet unyielding tug, tilting your head back just enough to leave you vulnerable.

A quiet whimper slipped from your throat, your lips parting as you hesitated to put into words what was already written all over your face. Your gaze lowered, silently pleading. It was forbidden. Morbid. Seductive. Just like Austin Sommers himself.

"There is definitely something wrong with you," he chuckled softly, the vibration of his voice reverberating against your skin before he leaned in closer.

His head dipped toward your neck again, lips hovering over the warmth of your pulse. The other hand traveled slowly up the curve of your spine, gliding to your waist before pulling you flush against him.

Your heart pounded. Everything about this was wrong—too strange, too intoxicating. His touch, his hypnotic voice, the way each word seemed to slip past your defenses effortlessly. You didn’t know if it was something supernatural or simply something chemical—something inside you that had always been there, waiting to be awakened.

But for the first time, you felt completely alive. Your fingers tangled into the soft strands at the nape of his neck, tugging him closer until your lips were barely brushing against his.

"I want more," you whispered.

His eyes widened briefly, caught off guard, but the surprise melted away as quickly as it came, replaced by that same knowing smile that was already becoming familiar.

"With pleasure," he murmured, his cool breath mixing with the heat of your lips.

He closed his eyes, and you did the same. The moment was too intense to experience with your eyes open.

Austin’s breath was tantalizing, ghosting over your mouth as if he were savoring every molecule of your being before even touching you. His hands slid to the back of your neck, holding you in place—keeping you captive under his control as he absorbed everything.

Your scent. Your warmth. Your racing pulse. Blood. Soap. Perfume. Sweat. When his lips finally met yours, it was like drinking from the forbidden fruit. Warm. Slow. Poetic. There was something in him that fed on this. A hunger that stirred the darkness, that made you feel like a feast laid out before him and Austin Sommers loved to indulge.

The only difference that separated you from him was the thirst for blood and you were about to change that, biting his lip, the soft skin untouched by time between your teeth, sinking them in. A trickle of blood coming out, the metallic taste on your taste buds. This was a feral and delicious fetish.

Austin growled into your mouth, the touch becoming more possessive, hands on each other's faces, like a battle of lascivious dominance. He returned the force, pulling your hair back, grabbing your lower lip harder. You moaned so beautifully there that Austin felt it was artistic, almost unreal, daring to repeat the feat, loving every second of your delight.

“Fuck— you're so...delicious,” he murmured when you separated, your mouths were swollen, red with blood flowing to the region and scarlet staining your teeth. “I wouldn't mind giving you love bites for eternity.”

“Do this to me,” you murmured, licking the corner of Austin’s mouth that still contained traces of your fluid. “Forever.”

He pulled your hair again, interrupting your lustful declaration, it was like having you on a leash, but you had the collar. Pulling on his collar, you stopped the aggressive tug, making him disarm himself for the first time. “Now,” you commanded, sealing your lips again, satisfying your new addiction, not letting anything escape.

“Drink me,” Austin invited. He was lost, succumbing to the need to surrender too. With strong steps, he laid you down on the bed in your room, pulling on your necklace. What to do but comply with the request?

Your body was hot, sinfully hot. Wet was a weak word for what was happening between your legs, at this point, you could feel every red blood cell running through your blood vessels, as well as every cell of Austin that woke up on top of you. Your mouth went to Austin’s neck, sucking and biting, licking, the taste of his addictive skin. Austin gasped, pushing his hips forward. As you abused his neck, you felt the need to scratch it, running your nails over the pressure point.

“Fuck,” he grunted, grabbing your wrist. You felt the cut, but it wasn’t uncomfortable, as it was numbed by Austin’s tongue and his hips thrusting back and forth against your sex.

“Shit, shit—" you moaned, spreading your legs wider, seeking Austin’s face for another kiss, feeling your own blood mix with his tongue. Your body was out of control beneath him and soon, you came undone there. The prophecy fulfilled, moaning until the last shock waves. “Austin!”

“Shit,” he gasped, his fingers digging into your waist, the sound being muffled by your mouth.

The only sound that could be heard was the heavy breathing, your heart beating. Your eyes met, Austin smiled, burying his face in the hollow of your neck for one last bite before turning to you.

“So, did I finish the ritual?” You questioned with a ragged breath, a wide smile splitting your face.

“It never even started,” he laughed, going to your ear to bite the lobe and return to your eyes. “I’m not a vampire, I’m just a big blood-addicted son of a bitch.”

“And how did I summon you?” You asked, trying to get up, but were soon stopped by Austin’s hands on your wrists, pinning you to the bed, while he adjusted himself on top of you to also pin your legs.

“You had the bad luck to summon a succubus,” he hummed, your whole body was on fire at the time, making sense of the whole devilish aura around Austin. “Now you’re my favorite toy. Enjoy the party and grab my collar. I'm your one and only freak monster.”

[weirdero]

I’ve seen a lot of people online saying that Piper is either going to be Quinn 2.0 from Season 1 or Olivia 2.0, and honestly, I get it. I understand where those assumptions are coming from and it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world especially if she ended up as another Quinn. She seems like a nice girl stuck in a fucked up family. But my god that would just be so boringgggg. We’re only on Season 3 it’s way too early for the show to start recycling character archetypes. I also think with the added dynamic of her brothers she’ll be her own evil freaky bitch yk. Anyways the siblings got me fucked up.

Her brothers are themselves. Saxon is the most outrageous out of three I don't think he's ever been proper humbled in his life and has a very very very disgusting black and white outlook on the world.

He's like those men who believe life revolves around sex and sex is just a game. The type of man that excuses his abhorrent terrible behavior on his “natural human instinct”.

Lochlan is definitely chiller, but still a freak. He seems to crave attention from both of his siblings in a very odd way. He enjoys Saxon’s “life advice” and gossip. I think he’s very aware of his brother’s unhinged nature and recognizes that it’s ridiculous but I genuinely don’t believe he sees it as anything more than that. He’s the kind of guy that just brushes Saxon’s behavior off because “he’s just a silly guy,” YK?

And with Piper, I think he definitely knows she’s the more normal one compared to Saxon. Even though we haven’t seen them interact much yet I think they’re able to have more honest conversations with each other. He tells her that he attempted to pray and even though he didn’t really feel any sort of divine intervention or anything he still chooses to share this with Piper.

He also gives off gossipy vibes. When Saxon tells him he thinks piper has never had sex before he decided to tell piper about it but not in a concerning “our brother is a freak” way but in a playful way, kinda like it’s just some casual chitchat, rather than something deeply weird. Like I mentioned earlier he also excuses his brother behavior by down playing it and explaining the original context of the statement as a “compliment”????

And after piper is clearly disturbed and uncomfortable with this conversation he decides to double down and ask her if she had had sex before.

This gossipy nature comes out during their lunch scene with that whole Kate and Victoria interaction. I already talked about how I interpreted both Kate’s and Victorias feelings in this scene and why the both specifically acted that way in this post but the way Lochlan acts is also very telling of who he is he's the only person at that table to question his mothers odd behavior telling her straight up was was kinda rude. But just like with Saxon I don't he actually cares or takes an issue with how his mom handled that interaction he's not actively trying to call her out but more curious than anything. Get kinda messy with it. YK? Anyways like I said he doesn’t actually care about how she acted based off how he reacts to her prostitution joke laughing along with Saxon and his father. Actually scratch that he looks at Saxon first to check if HES LAUGHING. also he was 100% ready to watch his brother jack off. Weirdo!

Then there’s piper. Like fucking pipe. She does seem to be the most sane out of all of them in the instances that I brought up she’s like literally the only person with an appropriate response. but I still can't properly pin point her. I want to believe she's sane and normal I really do and hell she might be and I might just be too fucking suspicious but there is just something about her. When lochlan tells her about saxsons comment about her sex life her first reaction to me seems defensive. Not even a "why would he say that" type of reaction which she settles for later but a "he doesn't know what I do".

And again, I might be reading into things, but it just feels so specific. I’ve been watching this season with my friends one of them specifically loves Piper’s character and another thinks she’s just a performative white girl Olivia 2.0 But neither of them think she’s a freak.

In defense of my friend who thinks she’s just another privileged white girl she did point out another moment during the family’s lunch conversation

She tells her dad that she didn’t choose this hotel and that it’s not her vibe and its like “Disneyland for rich bohemians from Malibu and their Lululemon leggings”

Then later she’s seen in yoga in what honestly I wouldn’t be surprised if they were Lululemon leggings.

Anyway, it’s almost 8pm where I am now and I need this new episode to drop now.