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Bite

Hello my friends! Here is a vamprry one shot. It’s a darker one but I hope you guys will like it. 🎃

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WC- 6.4k

Warnings- vampire h, blood play, he kinda kidnaps her tbh, dark h, soulmates, mask kink if you squint, oral (f receiving) smut, degrading, h is a vampire so their morals are not human-like you know

Her blood pressure was high. She was sure of it.

Going to a haunted house wasn’t her idea, nor was it her ideal for the weekend of actual Halloween, but her people pleasing ways had gotten her once again. The same with wearing a fucking dress, because they’d decided to go bar hopping afterwards. Not the brightest idea at all, but she wanted to stick it through.

It seemed to be going well enough until they got separated.

She had somewhat of an idea that someone was watching her. She just didn’t know how correct she was- or how much danger she was in. Harry's eyes narrowed as he watched her get separated from the group.

Fate had chosen his fun for the night.

He quickly disappeared into the shadows, his lip quirked under the mask. This was his favorite time of year. He knew these halls like the back of his hand, and he knew exactly where she'd end up. He followed her as she tried to navigate her way back, unaware she had no hope there was no real way back, his footsteps silent on the creaky floorboards. It was thrilling, the muffled screams from other rooms fading to let him hear her breathing, fast and panicked. Little heartbeat pounding away at her chest. She was so alive, and it thrilled him.

She didn’t have a clue.

The dim of the flickering lights cast eerie shadows on the peeling wallpaper as she hurried down the narrow, winding corridor, her heeled boots clicking nervously on the worn wooden floor. Her breath hitched in her throat as she heard a faint, raspy whisper carry through the heavy silence, the air thick with the scent of dust and fake fog.

“Why are you running, pretty girl?” The rasping voice had her turning around, only to be met with empty space. there was no one there. “What’s got you spooked?”

Her heart thundered as she clutched her chest, turning slightly as the voice seemed to move. Like it was circling her, almost. It was suddenly that the lights went out, making her freeze in fear.

What sort of haunted house was this? And could she get a refund?

Harry grinned wickedly as he watched her from the shadows. He had missed this. The thrill of it all soothing an itch he usually couldn’t scratch. Though his usual victims weren’t quite as pretty as her, he noted. They didn’t smell as good either. He ducked into a small, concealed alcove as she whirled around, her panicked breath misting in the sudden darkness.

She could hear the faint drip-drip-drip of water echoing through the darkness, and the distant sound of maniacal laughter from another room. But closer, much closer, she could swear she heard breathing. Slow, steady, and menacing. Her own breath caught in her throat as she tried to pinpoint where the sound was coming from, her eyes straining to pierce the inky blackness.

“Who’s there?” She whispered into the quiet. It dawned on her that there was no party following behind her. She didn’t hear the footsteps, she hadn’t realized she’d veered off course, but she was still in the haunt. This had to be part of it- right? “I- I’m sorry I got off the path. If you turn up the lights I’ll just go back to my friends.”

The breathing paused for a moment, and then it started up again, louder this time. It was definitely coming from right next to her. She could feel the presence of something, or someone, but she couldn't see a thing. Couldn’t feel any body heat. The only thing she could feel were the vibrations when she heard a low, chilling laughter that sent shivers down her spine. "You're lost..." The voice whispered menacingly in her ear. It was when she could feel the cool breath on her neck that everything in her panicked.

She jumped back, her heart racing as she stumbled backwards, tripping over her own feet in the process. She landed hard on the floor, her dress riding up to reveal her thighs. She heard the creaking of floorboards as whatever was there moved closer to her, its footsteps echoing in the darkness. "You shouldn't have come here... alone..." The voice hissed at her. “Don’t you know it’s dangerous?”

“I didn’t mean to! I got separated from my group. I didn’t mean to go off the path.” Her voice was weak and warbled as she felt the sting in her elbow from the fall. “Just let me out and I’ll be on my way.”

The figure loomed over her, its presence oppressive and menacing. "But where's the fun in that?" It growled. She could hear the rustling of fabric, and then a gloved hand reached out and grabbed her wrist, pulling her to her feet. She struggled, her heels clicking against the floor as she tried to break free, but the grip was too strong. "You're not going anywhere."

He pulled her into the concealed alcove, her struggles turning into whimpers as he backed her into the wall. His gloved hands roamed her face, gripping her roughly as he grinned wickedly behind his mask. "You’re a pretty one aren’t you?” He chuckled. “Such a treat. Let’s play.” He reached out and caressed her cheek gently, a stark contrast to the other hand’s rough grip on her jaw as his thumb brushed over her bottom lip.

"Open your mouth." he commanded, his voice low and menacing. She hesitated, her eyes wide with fear- but he didn’t give. He tightened his grip on her jaw, his fingers pressing into her cheeks. "I said, open your mouth." he repeated, his voice leaving no room for back talk. Reluctantly, she parted her lips, her teeth chattering slightly. He grinned deviously and slowly slipped the glove off and his thumb into her mouth. "Suck. It’s for your own good.”

She hesitated again, but the menacing growl from behind the mask urged her on. She wrapped her lips around his cool thumb, sucking hesitantly at first, but growing bolder as he watched her with a dark, intense gaze. It wasn’t like she could see him, but there was no way she couldn’t feel his stare on him. The metallic taste was unfamiliar to her, but it was what would save her. His grin widened as he slid his thumb in and out of her mouth, mimicking a motion that made her blush furiously even in the darkness. "Lovely girl, finally listening to instruction." He praised, his voice hoarse. "Now, bite down. This is going to hurt, but it’ll feel good afterwards.”

The girl had no idea what he meant until she heard the mask slipping off his face and her head was tilted to the side. She barely had a second to think before she felt it. The sharp bite down on her throat, burning at the site as she let out a strangled scream. The man- or creature- let out a satisfied groan as he sucked at her throat, pulling what had to be blood from her. All her instincts told her to run, but she couldn’t. She was frozen.

He drank with deep pulls, his arm wrapping around her waist to hold her upright as colorful spots danced before her eyes, even in the dark. She felt lightheaded, her limbs growing heavy and sluggish. She could hear the pounding of her own heart, growing slower and softer with each passing second, the sounds of his sucking drowning it out.

The soft plush of pleasure started to hint over her, the pain fading into the fuzziness of warmth in her tummy and between her thighs. Just as darkness began to claim her vision, he withdrew, licking his lips as he admired the two puncture wounds on her neck. "You’ve got lovely blood.” He murmured. “So sweet. Best I’ve had all season.”

He leaned in close, his voice a soft whisper in her ear as he held her up. "I should have you for the full meal... but I have other plans for you." With that, he scooped her up into his arms and carried her deeper into the house, her limp body resting against his chest. She was tired, her mind fuzzy from the blood loss, but she let out a soft whimper as he squeezed her lightly to his body. “I usually finish my meals and let them run off, but I think you’re a bit too good to toss.”

Part of her questioned if she was awake right now as he carried her through because nothing made sense. When her eyes opened again, it was different. The house changed. No longer was it the decrepit source of the haunted house, but it was restored. Like it had shifted all in front of her eyes. She wasn’t sure what was real and what was fake right now, if this was even reality, but it didn’t make any sense. The cobwebs were gone. The smell was lavish, rich, like incense. The haul was lined with velvet curtained windows and hand painted oil art, none of the flashing lights or fake fog to be seen.

What the hell was this? And what was he?

He carried her into a grand bedroom, the four poster bed draped in black silk. It was nothing like her own and she wanted to fight him, ask him what the fuck was happening, but she had no energy to do it. He had taken too much from her.

The monster laid her down gently, smoothing her hair away from her face as he admired her pallid complexion. "You'll wake up tomorrow, thirsty and changed. But don’t worry, I’ll be here for you.” He leaned over her, his ungloved, chilled finger roaming over her cheek as he caressed her. "I’ll be the only one you crave.”

——

The sun streamed through the open curtains, casting a warm golden light over the room. The girl stirred on top of the duvet, her arms reaching out to stretch before she realized she wasn't in her own bed. Her body was stiff, a throb in her joints as she let out a little whimper at the feeling in her body. Everything felt heavy still. Slow. She sat up groggily, rubbing her eyes as she took in the opulent room- one she didn’t quite recognize at first. There wasn’t much time for her to go over who’s room it was, or why she was there though, because she felt a twinge in her neck as she tried to move her head. That's when she noticed the feeling. The thirst. It was unlike anything she'd ever experienced, a burning, aching need that demanded to be quenched. There wasn’t any sort of suggestion about it, it was a need.

Her throat burned. It was a hollow aching in her stomach, the stinging of her throat, her hand reaching up to cover it as she flinched. Pulling it back she looked at the ring snugly fastened to her ring finger, a red gem with a gold band. It wasn’t one she had- or was it?

Her memory was hazy. She needed something, someone, but she didn’t know what it was.

As if summoned by her thoughts, the door creaked open and in strolled a man, one that seemed familiar in the way that unsettled her, a small glass of crimson liquid in hand. He was sans mask, his dark hair disheveled as he grinned at her. Bright white teeth gleamed at her as he stood in front of her, smile softening as he clicked his tongue. Something about his smile was off putting, but she couldn’t look away. "Ah, you’re up. Good. I was beginning to think I’d given you too much.” He held out the glass to her. “Drink."

The girl's eyes widened as she stared at the glass, her parched throat aching with desperation. She reached out, her hand shaking as she took the glass from him. The liquid inside was a deep, rich red, almost burgundy in color and didn’t look like something safe for human consumption as she swirled it to see it much thicker than anything she usually drank, but her body was acting on its own. She brought it to her lips, the cool glass feeling soothing against her dry skin. As she drank, she felt the liquid slide down her throat, the warmth a soothing kind instead of the pain, spreading through her body and quelling the burning ache.

She probably should have thought twice about taking it from the stranger, but she didn’t. All she cared about was getting rid of the pain, getting more of the liquid down her throat so it didn’t sting any longer. The whimper that left her lips was pathetic as he pulled the glass away, his hand reaching out to thumb the droplet that had fallen down her chin back up and into her mouth. There wasn’t hesitation as he pushed the digit in, her hand grabbing his wrist and sucking the remaining drop from his skin.

He let out a low hum, his free hand reaching out to gently tilt her head back, forcing her to keep his thumb inside her mouth. "You're so thirsty, aren't you?" The man murmured, his thumb moving slightly, pushing against her tongue. "Such a pretty little thing, and so desperate for something to quench your thirst."

The thumb was pulled from her tongue, swiping over her bottom lip as he towered over her. She had no idea what the hell it was, what was happening, but her body trusted him and craved more of whatever he’d just given her. “More.” She croaked, lightly digging her nails into his skin. “Please, I need more of it.”

“The newblood desperation isn’t usually this cute. I think I got quite lucky last night, don’t you think?” He chuckled darkly, his other hand reaching up to cup her cheek as he leaned in close. "You'll get more, but first... you have to earn it." His thumb pressed against her lips again, pushing them open as he spoke and tapped her bottom teeth. "I have a game for us to play. If you win, I'll give you all the blood you can drink." His voice was a seductive purr, his thumb sliding into her mouth once more.

“I’ll do it.” She whispered instantly. “Anything. I’ll play.” The girl didn’t even know his name, but she wanted to please him, she wanted more of the blood. It didn’t even click with her that it’s what she was drinking. All she knew was that she needed more and she was willing to do anything to get it.

"Excellent. That’s the spirit I like to see." He crooned. "Now, the game is simple. I'll ask you a question, and you have to answer truthfully. If you lie, or hesitate, the game is over and you don't get any more blood." He pulled his thumb out of her mouth, only to replace it with his other finger, gently rubbing against her tongue.

"First question...what's your name?" His eyes gleamed with amusement as he watched her, feeling the soft suckle she gave his digit. She didn’t seem to comprehend that he was truly talking to her, or she didn’t want to pull her mouth from his finger, but that simply wouldn’t do. "Come on, now. No need to be shy. You can speak around my finger, can't you?" He smiled, his voice firm. "Answer me." His thumb brushed against her bottom lip, encouraging her to part her lips and speak.

“Y/N.” She spoke, muffled around his finger. Her eyes were hazy and soft, body warming up from the blood settling in her system and the attentive stare of the man in front of her.

"Good. That wasn't so hard, was it?" He praised, slowly pulling his finger from her mouth as he spoke. He brought the digit to his lips, sucking the remnants of her saliva from it as he grinned at her. "Now, Y/N...do you know where you are? And how you got here?" His eyes were intent on her, watching every flicker of emotion that crossed her face. "Take your time. Think carefully."

She mourned the loss of the soothing she had from sucking, but she felt the hot zip right between her thighs as she watched him clean off his skin from her saliva. There was something about it that made her reach out for him, gently tangling her fingers in the fabric of his shirt as she peered up at him with wider eyes. It was a good question.

Where was she?

“I… I don’t know.” She finally realized she couldn’t quite place it. “Did we hook up or something after the bar?” It wouldn’t be the first time she did something stupid on a night out.

"No, we didn't hook up. That will come later.” It was inevitable. His perfect creation was made for him. The fates had been so kind to him last night, putting her in his path. “We ran into each other at the haunted house. You got lost. Got into some trouble." He gently unraveled her fingers from his shirt, lifting her hand to press a soft kiss to her knuckles. "You don't remember anything else, do you?" His expression was unreadable, but his voice was gentle, coaxing.

“No.” Haunted house? Her mind felt muddy. Like she was wading through quicksand as she tried to navigate the slow thoughts that seemed to be underwater in her brain. It sounded familiar. “I don’t like haunted houses. I probably didn’t want to go. I don’t… I can’t tell why I don’t remember.”

She had no recollection of him feeding off of her, of him finding her lost from her group and choosing her as his meal. She especially had no memory of him telling her why she was here.

"That's alright. You will, in time." He soothed, bringing her hand to rest over his heart. She didn’t notice it wasn’t beating. "For now, just focus on me. You're doing so well, Y/N. I'm very proud of you." His eyes glowed softly with affection as he spoke. "Here, have a little more. You deserve it." He bared his wrist to her once more, the vein pulsing enticingly. "It’s not the same as the other, but I think you’ll like it just the same. Drink."

Her eyes dilated, pupils swelling to consume the new color of warm gold of her irises as she stared at the offered wrist. Her breathing hitched, chest rising and falling rapidly as her hands trembled with anticipation. She reached out, fingers wrapping around his wrist as she brought it closer, inhaling deeply to draw in the intoxicating scent of his blood. A soft whimper escaped her as she leaned in, parting her lips to sink her teeth into his flesh.

It was all instinct. She didn’t understand why she was doing it, why she was so relieved to have her teeth in him. His finger pet at her hair as she breathed frantically through her nose, sucking the thick, sweet blood over her tongue with a soft moan. He tasted so good. It was going to be hard to stop.

He let her drink, his other hand cupping her cheek gently as he held her to him. His blood filled her, warming her from the inside out, making her feel alive in a way she never had been before. "That's it, my love. Drink. Take what you need." He whispered, his voice low and husky with desire. His thumb stroked her bottom lip, encouraging her to draw more deeply from his vein.

Her jaw ached as she continued to suckle at him, her lips sealed tightly around his wrist as her tongue fluttered against the wound she'd made, trying to draw more of it onto her tongue. She felt the smooth of his blood sliding down her throat, filling her belly, seeping into her very soul. Her fingers flexed against his wrist, nails digging into his skin as her body shivered.

He carefully unwound her arms from around his wrist, prying her fang-like teeth from his flesh with a low chuckle as she let out a mix of a growled whine from the loss. "Easy now, love. Not too much. I need to keep some strength for myself." He soothed, running his thumb along her bottom lip to catch a droplet of blood that had escaped. "Look at me, Y/N." He commanded softly, waiting until her glazed eyes focused on him before he continued.

"There you are." He murmured approvingly, his own eyes dark with unsated desire. He leaned down and licked the wound on his wrist clean, hissing at the sudden spike of pain before it faded. Pain and pleasure went hand in hand. "You're going to be the death of me, you know that?" He teased, his voice barely above a whisper. It would be true, if he could still die. He brought his clean wrist up to cup her chin, his thumb brushing across her bottom lip. "Such a greedy little thing."

She whimpered again, leaning into his touch as her eyes fluttered closed, savoring the feel of his skin against her lips. She could still taste his blood on her tongue, the metallic tang lingering in her mouth and making her want more. When she opened her eyes, they were glowing with a fierce hunger that made him chuckle darkly. "You're insatiable." He whispered, his own desire rising to match hers.

“I don’t….” She stood up, legs slightly wobbly as she faced him. “I don’t know what you did to me, I don’t know where I am, but I want you to stay.” Her hand grabbed his and wrapped his arm around her. The unprecedented need for him to be touching her, it felt just as desperate as the need for blood was. “Why am I feeling like this? I don’t know you.”

His other arm wrapped around her automatically, his large hand splayed across her lower back to support her. Dark eyes searched hers, seeing the genuine confusion in her gaze. He was a stranger to her, and yet her body craved his touch like it craved blood. He brought her flush against him, his other hand cupping her jaw. "Shh, it's alright." He soothed, his voice gentle.

"I'll explain everything, I promise. But for now, just...feel." He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers, a soft, slow kiss that deepened into something more passionate. His hand on her back slid down to her bottom, squeezing possessively as his tongue slid against hers, sharing the taste of his own blood. He felt her relax against him, her body molding to his as her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer. “Just know that you belong with me. To me. That’s what you need.”

Yes. This was what she needed. It made no logical sense, she knew, but logic was lost when it came to this. Ever since she had woken up she had been squirming, itching for something, and she realized now with his lips on hers and his hand grabbing at her ass, she knew this had been the missing piece.

“What’s your name?” She panted against his mouth, unsure if he had said it. Her mind was a mix of things and none of it logical.

He pulled back slightly, his breath ragged as he looked down at her. "Harry." He whispered, his thumb brushing across her cheek. "And you're Y/N." He handed her the reminder her gently, his other hand cupping her ass and pressing her against the growing hardness in his pants. "We're going to be together, Y/N. Forever." He promised, his voice dark with his promise. “I chose you last night.”

Why did that make her feel good?

She didn’t know him, and yet she was preening over the fact that he was promising forever with her. He could be an awful man. She knew nothing of him other than his blood tasted good somehow, he was one of the most attractive men she had ever seen, and she had gone home with him last night. None of it seemed to matter to her rationally. Maybe she’d lost her mind along the way; maybe he’d taken it from her. Regardless, she didn’t want to fight it. It felt wrong to fight it. “Forever?” She whispered, melting into him.

"Forever." He echoed, his voice a low growl that made her hot between her thighs. "I'm going to take care of you, Y/N. I'm going to give you everything you need. Teach you all you need to know. I created you, and I’ll take care of everything you need." He promised, his other hand sliding up her back and into her hair, tangling in the strands as he deepened their kiss.

He kissed her deeply, his tongue sweeping into her mouth as he held her close. His hand in her hair tightened slightly, tilting her head to the side to deepen the kiss further. His other hand never left her ass, squeezing it gently as he pressed her against his hard length. He broke the kiss for a moment, his breath coming in harsh gasps as he looked down at her. "I want to take care of you, Y/N."

She moaned softly, her eyes fluttering closed as she parted her lips to his expert kiss. Her fingers tightened in the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him closer as she pressed her hips against his, feeling his cock against her belly. When he broke the kiss, she whimpered in protest, her eyes slowly opening to meet his gaze. "Please..." she breathed, not even knowing what she was begging for, only that she needed more of him.

Harry's pride swelled at the sight of her, so needy and desperate for him. He loved it. He loved how much she craved him, how much she needed him. The choice to take her, to make her his mate was the correct one. It was in his bones, he knew it the moment he had heard the panicked pitter patter of her heart in the dilapidated facade of the hallway. He leaned down and captured her lips in another deep kiss, letting them linger. "Don’t fret. I'll give you everything you need, Y/N," He promised against her lips. "But first, I need you to sit on my lap."

The creature guided her with his hands on her hips, helping her straddle his lap. She wrapped her legs around his waist instinctively, her skirt riding up to reveal the softness of her thighs to the creature, against what was sure to be any sliver of self preservation. He groaned softly, his hands running over them appreciatively. He had so much to observe and worship with her- this was just the beginning for them. "Now, touch me." The vampire instructed, his voice low and commanding. "Anywhere you want." He watched as she hesitantly reached out, her hands exploring his chest through his shirt, feeling the hard muscles beneath.

He smiled encouragingly at her, his eyes darkening with desire as she grew bolder, her touch making him sigh as she ran her hands over his abs and chest. He could feel her touch through his shirt, her fingers trailing fire wherever they went. "More..." he encouraged, his voice a low growl. He wanted her touch on his bare skin. As if reading his mind, she began to unbutton his shirt, her fingers fumbling slightly.

He sat still, letting her undo his shirt, his breath hitching as she revealed his chest. He had always been proud of his physique, and the way she looked at him now, with wonder and admiration in her eyes only made him feel more smug about it. Once the shirt was open, she hesitated, looking up at him with a hint of uncertainty. As cute as it was… That wouldn’t do. He reached up and gently pushed the shirt off his shoulders, letting it fall to the side.

"Touch me."

She reached out, her shaky fingers brushing against his bare chest. He hissed at the touch, his abs tightening as she ran her hands over them, feeling the hard muscles. The girl leaned forward, her hair falling over her shoulder as she pressed her lips to his chest, kissing and licking his skin with her lips smearing against the cool skin, falling into the intimacy easier as he held onto her and pushed her dress further up. Harry growled softly, his hands gripping on her hips as he thrust his own upwards at the tongue lathing over the side of his throat, the movement pushing his erection against her core.

Her breathing hitched, her eyes fluttering closed as she continued to kiss and lick his skin, her hips grinding down to meet his thrusts. She was so engrossed in the sensations that she didn't notice his hands sliding up her thighs, bunching up her skirt until his fingers brushed against the hem of her underwear. He broke the silence of panting breaths, his voice hoarse. "S’my turn. I'm going to touch you now, Y/N."

She needed it. Her body was yelling at her to submit, to let him touch, because that’s what was necessary. It was a craving. Words echoed in her mind, his voice telling her ‘When you wake up, I’ll be all you crave’ or something like that, but she couldn’t focus on it when she felt his fingers brush her humid cunt.

Her response was a needy whimper, her head falling back to expose her neck as her hips canted forward, giving him better access. He hummed in approval, his fingers slowly sliding under the lace of her underwear to touch her bare flesh. She was so wet, so ready for him. He rubbed her slowly, his touch gentle, coaxing more needy noises from her. "That's it, love. I know what you need. Let me give it to you."

He slipped a finger inside her, her tight warmth clenching around him. The sensation of it made him groan, his head dipping down to nuzzle against her neck, inhaling her sweet scent as he began to move his finger in and out of her slick hole. Her breathing caught, her fingers clawing at his shoulders as she panted his name. "Harry."

"I know, my love. I know. It feels so good, doesn’t it?" The croon was slightly smug, but she didn’t care. It felt too good to have his finger inside of her, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin of her neck.

"More." She begged, her body tensing as he curled his finger upward, finding that sweet spot inside her. He nipped at her neck, his fangs scraping against her skin, making her hips buck against his hand. It felt better than she ever remembered a simple finger inside of her feeling, but it didn’t make much sense. Nothing about this did.

"I'll give you more." His hand stilled for a moment, his fingers sliding down to gather more of her essence before he added another finger, filling her more for a few more thrusts. "But first, let me have a taste."

Y/N yelped in surprise as she was flipped, tossing her right on the mattress she had slept on. There was little time to prepare as he gripped her dress, tearing it in two so easily that she gaped at the strength of him. She knew the dress was slightly cheaper- she was on a budget, sue her!- but how could he do that?

The thought had to go on the back burner though, watching as he got to her knees between her thighs and spread them open for his viewing pleasure.

The man looked up at her, his eyes devious as he held her thighs open, preventing her from closing them. "Very pretty everywhere, aren’t you?” Leaning down, his tongue flicked out to taste her, dragging through her folds. She gasped, her back arching off the bed as the sensation of him tasting her rushed through her. "Mm.. and you taste so good here, too... Not just your blood. I did a good job in choosing, didn’t I pet?"

He didn’t give her a chance to answer, let alone think about what he was saying fully before he began to lick and suck at her, his tongue delving inside her to taste her nectar. Instead, she moaned, her hands gripping the sheets beneath her as she writhed with pleasure. He was relentless, his mouth working her clit with expert precision until she was panting and begging for something. What? She wasn’t sure.

"Please, Harry. I need..." Her brow furrowed as she looked down at him, unable to finish her sentence as his dark eyes looked up at her with his mouth expertly latched onto her, messily slick with her on his lips and chin.

"I know what you need." He snarled against her wet flesh, sending vibrations through her core. “Be quiet and let me give it to you.”

He sucked her into his mouth, his lips wrapping around her clit as he suckled. His tongue lashed against her, his hands gripping her thighs and spreading her wider as he buried his face deeper, licking and nipping at her delicate folds. His tongue plunged deep inside her, withdrawing and surging forward once more, making her keen as she tilted her hips up towards him, trying to write but unable to close her legs with how he held her open for him.

His hands tightened on her thighs as he devoured her, his fingers digging into her soft, warm flesh. She could feel his cool touch on every inch of her, his tongue plunging into her core again and again, his mouth suckling at her swollen pearl. She was helpless against the onslaught of pleasure, her hips bucking against his mouth as she neared the edge. "Harry, please. It's too much..."

He growled against her, the vibrations pushing her even closer to the edge. "No, it's not." The vampire mumbled, his voice muffled against her wet flesh. His arms wrapped around her thighs to hold her down as he continued to feast on her. Golden eyes lifted to meet hers, the possessive look in them making her feel hotter despite the cool touch of his hands. He meant every bit of this. There was no hint of casual about this. The man meant it when he said she was here forever. "You can take more, Y/N. You’ll take what I give you, because you belong to me now. I created you."

His words sent a flash of heat through her, his dominance washing over her like a tidal wave. He continued to eat her out, his tongue and mouth working her relentlessly.

It was simply too much.

The new blood in her veins, the unrelenting pleasure, the claim of ownership, all of it had her losing grip on whatever sense of reality she had left. Moans echoed through the room as she climaxed hard, her entire body shaking with the force of it. He didn't let up, continuing to lick and suck even as she came, prolonging her orgasm until she was a sobbing, shaking mess.

Her sobs turned into screams as another wave of pleasure hit her, his fingers joining his mouth as he pushed three inside her, continuing to pump in and out of her as he drank her release from her core. His tongue lashed against her as he drank her in, his fingers crooking up to find that spot inside her that made her see stars.

With a final lap at her pussy, he pulled back, his face glistening with her essence. His eyes locked onto her thigh, his hand trailing up to caress the tender skin. The creature needed more of her. To solidify their bond even more.

There was no words exchanged as he made the decision for them, spreading her out and finding the spot he wanted, where he could see the pulse still thrumming under her skin. He leaned down, his fangs sinking into her flesh as he drank from her, his hands gripping her thighs possessively. He growled against her, his voice muffled as he took deep pulls, her orgasm sweetened blood flowing into his mouth making him moan and his cock pulse inside of his trousers. She wasn’t a full blood like him. He’d be taking advantage of the human blood flowing through her veins every day for the rest of eternity.

His hands tightened on her thighs as he fed, his touch proprietorial and unyielding. She could feel the pull at her vein, the sensation sending waves of pleasure through her, heightening the sensitivity of her over stimulated body. She whimpered, her hands finding his hair and tangling in the silky strands as he drank from her. He didn’t want to pull off, knowing it made her feel good and knowing she tasted this good because of him, but he wanted to enjoy her in the softness of post orgasm and feed haze. Retracting his teeth, he sighed deeply, licking over the bleeding mark on her inner thigh. It was dangerously close to her cunt- something he liked.

A meal with a view.

The vampire had waited this long to take a mate. He deserved to enjoy it.

He lifted his head, his eyes meeting hers as he licked his lips clean. His face was a stark contrast of brutal and beautiful. Blood stained his swollen mouth and chin, a stark crimson against his pale skin. His eyes glinted with a feral light, his pupils dilated with satisfaction and desire. The creature’s dark hair was mussed from her hands running through it, making him look deliciously disheveled.

It was unsettling knowing something so dangerous could be so beautiful.

“We’re going to have a lot of fun together, little treasure.” He purred, giving her mound a kiss before licking over his bottom lip to chase the taste of her cunt and the blood he had just pulled. “My favorite creation yet. I can’t wait to play with you some more.” His nails dragged down the sensitive skin of her outer thighs, making her squirm in his grip. “I hope I don’t break you too soon.”

[santanasaintmendes]

“i wish i was who you drunk texted at midnight. . .” Part 2!

wc!: 3.5k 😱

ollie bearman x fem!reader + childhood friends to ? 👀

warnings: swearing

summary: Continuation of “i wish i was who you drunk texted at midnight”

a/n: wow. i never expected so many people to ask for a part 2! tbh i was going to leave it on a cliffhanger but i guess i just can’t write and leave my fics on cliffhangers smh 😔 also im so sorry this took me so long to get out! I was struggling a bit with schoolwork and going travelling but I hope you’re satisfied with this ending xoxox

type: angst with fluff ending . . . maybe? 👀

part 1

“Y/N?”

Oooo irony was such a little bitch. 

You watched as a wave of shock crossed Ollie’s face as he stared down at you, both of you unable to form even a word, as if they’d all gotten stuck in your throat. A thousand thoughts were running through your mind as you laid at his feet. Frozen in shock, this couldn’t have gone in a worse direction than it already was. Your face was flushed in embarrassment and you just knew your entire face was hot red. You opened your mouth to say something, anything to salvage your dignity but as luck would have it, no words left your mouth. 

“. . . hey there.” you attempted to sound relaxed and sombre but you unfortunately ended up sounding like a squeaking mouse instead.

Your hand shot to your mouth as you slowly sat up. Ollie chuckled, wiping his cheeks from any stray tears with the back of his hand. You crossed your legs as he sat across from you, still fighting to find words that could possibly explain the whole word vomit you’d just thrown up. You met his eyes, fighting the urge to jump up and run out the door. You wanted to still be mad at him, to leave but something stopped you. Whatever it was clearly wanting you to just suffer even more. 

“Hey there,” he cracked a smile, you swallowed and chuckled but it sounded about as empty as you felt right now. 

“Is it true? Everything you said?” he slowly asked, his voice delicate like a thin pane of glass about to crack any moment You swallowed in a weak attempt to keep the word vomit in that was about to spill everywhere once again. 

“Yeah. I didn’t expect you to open the door though, I was actually just about to go home.” you trailed off as you began to get up, but he grabbed your wrist as if it was the only thing here keeping him on Earth. You froze and looked down at him with a heavy heart. You felt like you were going to burst into tears all over again. It was so pathetic it made you sick to your stomach, how could you let yourself get so carried away? 

“Please. . . stay? We can talk afterwards, I promise. I want to apologise properly, just please stay.” he sounded so defeated, so hollow and empty that you almost forgot the reason you were ever mad at him in the first place. 

You looked at the door then slowly back at Ollie, you never thought you could love and hate someone so much at the same time. You wanted to leave, the mix of emotions you felt inside you were overwhelming and getting the best of you. Yet, a small part inside of you told you that you HAD to stay. Not for yourself but for Ollie, maybe not for the guy he was now but for that small freckled kid you once knew. 

“You’ll race right?” you asked him hopefully, you hated the way your voice showed how much you cared for him. It made you feel weak, vulnerable in front of someone you never thought you’d feel that in front.  Ollie nodded, his hand still clutching your wrist as he looked up at you. His mouth was slightly parted, as if he wanted to say something more. So you waited, a second too long perhaps but the words got lost in his mouth and you held back your disappointment. 

Your heart ached as you looked at him, his eyes still red and you could see that he was fighting back tears. It reminded you of when the two of you were in third grade and a bunch of kids were killing ants on the playground.  Ollie had burst out crying. You used to tease him about it all the time but the truth was whenever you saw Ollie crying it felt like a part of your heart was being torn apart. 

And it made you mad, and you promised yourself that you’d never let Ollie cry again. A pretty unrealistic promise but it didn’t matter to you, not to 8 year-old you anyways. And the world be damned if they tried to stop you, because he was your best friend and what wouldn’t one do for their best friend?

You sighed, pulling your eyes away from him, unable to stand the sight of him any longer, knowing that if you stayed you’d break and fall apart. 

“I’ll be with Arthur.” you told him as you pulled away from him, he gently let go of your wrist, his arms falling down beside him. Holding back the urge to hug him you left him alone, unknowing the way that he stared after you as you disappeared out the door. You felt sick to your stomach and your legs like putty underneath you as you walked down the hallway. It seemed to stretch out like a never ending tunnel as you stumbled down it. It all just didn’t make sense. Why did it all have to be so complicated? 

Arthur was standing by the Ferrari motorhome lounge with his brother, Charles Leclerc whom you’d met briefly at a race in Monza. Upon seeing your pale face Arthur quickly excused himself from his older brother and approached you, concern written all over his face. You’d always considered Arthur to be a close friend, since he was good pals with Ollie you’d always see him out and 

about the paddock. He’d always keep you company at races and when you and Ollie began to drift apart Arthur would always text to see how you were doing. You were eternally grateful for that, it almost seemed like you should have been falling for him this entire time. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, holding your shoulders and looking at you, his eyes searching your face for an answer. You nodded, unable to meet his eyes, instead glancing back to where the Ollie’s driver room was. The hallway almost calling out to you, wanting you to stumble back down it. 

“Did you get Ollie out?” Arthur asked as the two of you sat down on the lounge in the Ferrari motorhome. You sank into the seat, wishing you could just disappear at that moment. 

“Yeah.” you replied flatly, he looked over at you, he knew something had happened. 

“We’re going to talk later. I just, just wish. . . I wish he knew how much he means to me. I want to be someone’s first choice for once, I want to be his first choice for once.” you trailed off slowly. No truer words could’ve been spoken at that moment. You felt so stupid saying that out loud but it had never sounded so right, it felt right inside of you. To Ollie you’d always been a second choice and deep down you knew you’d always be. It all just felt too unfair, you wish you could’ve given up easier, to be able to forget everything that had happened and move on. 

It would’ve made life a whole lot easier if you could. But the universe be damned, it wouldn’t let you. 

“I’m not going to say I get, because I don’t really but, I get it.” Arthur sent a playful smile your way in hopes of cheering you up. You rolled your eyes, but your heart felt nonetheless lighter. 

“Thanks for staying and getting Ollie out, I wasn’t sure we’d ever be able to get him out. But thanks to you we did.” Arthur smiled, you grinned back, knowing that you’d made the right decision to stay. 

You couldn’t help but feel overjoyed for Ollie when he finished P7 in his first F1 race. Your chest swelled with pride as you watched him hop out of his car and run over to give his Father a giant hug, a bear hug, one could say (i’m such a comedian haha). You watched as the relief and happiness washed over him. 

“I have to go find Charles. Are you going to be okay by yourself?” Arthur asked as he stood up, looking over at you. You nodded, sending him a reassuring smile.  “Don’t worry I’ll be fine. I’ll come find you afterwards.” 

He sent you a nod, knowing you needed to speak to Ollie anyways before disappearing into the crowd to go find his brother. 

You patiently waited throughout the whole podium celebration, waiting for a moment to catch Ollie alone to talk. You never realised just how amazing and impressive it was attending a Formula 1 Race, sure you’d attended many of Ollie’s races but never an F1 race. You watched as Ollie spoke to an interviewer, his cheeks flushed a bright red and sweat rolling down the side of his face. 

You couldn’t help but smile, proudly? Happily? Whatever it was, you knew that deep down you’d never stop loving this boy. You could hate him for everything, for leaving you, for forgetting about you, but you’d never stop loving him and some part of you was okay with that. 

A couple of hours later you spotted Ollie alone, finally getting a chance and the courage to go and speak to him. He was sitting in an armchair having just got off the phone with someone, a part of you wondered if that was Estelle. But you pushed it down as you slowly began to approach him. Unsure what you were going to say, your mind began to race. You never realised how much you now had to think before you spoke to Ollie, when you were kids the conversation flowed so easily you almost didn’t have to think. 

Now, you found yourself wondering what on Earth you were going to say to him at all. 

Ollie noticed you walking toward him and a smile broke onto his face, your heart and stomach immediately erupting in butterflies. Maybe it was all going to be okay, maybe everything you had overthought (overthunk?) was all just you getting the better of yourself. 

“Ollie. . .” you began to say when you were only a few feet in front of him, but something in his gaze shifted and his eyes were drawn to something behind you. And if you thought everything earlier was bad luck and timing then it was nothing compared to this. 

“Ollie!” a light hearted voice rang, you froze. Your heart dropped to your stomach as you turned around, your eyes laid on Estelle who was walking toward Ollie with that blinding perfect smile of hers. You desperately looked back to Ollie, your mind racing, hoping, wishing that somehow he would turn her away. 

What had she ever done for him? 

What had she done to make him love her?

And then suddenly it was either you or her. It always had been for Ollie, you were his best friend but Estelle was his girlfriend. You wished Ollie knew what you were thinking at that moment, that if he left you for her, you’d leave. 

You’d leave and never run after him again.

And maybe that was a good thing. 

But as fate would have it, it wasn’t meant to be. Ollie would always run to her, choose her side, no matter what she did. Ollie pushed past to you, maybe you were crazy, delusional even, but you swore you saw a look of regret on his face. But of course, that couldn’t be true. 

You should’ve known better. 

What a liar. What a cheat. What a-

A soft knock interrupted your thoughts, you glanced up at the door. It slowly swung open, Bianca’s face peeking through the crack. She broke into a comforting smile as she approached and sat down at the end of your bed. 

It had been a week and yet somehow it was the only thing you thought about. He chose her. 

What did you really expect? 

In the end it only made you feel more stupid and pathetic than ever. 

“You know, if it makes you get out of bed, your Mother’s baked cookies.” Bianca shrugged in an effort to make you smile but it failed miserably. You just wanted to wallow in self pity and eat ice cream all day. But your Mother and Bianca seemed to be oddly against that.

“Bianca,” you grumbled into your pillow, she sighed, already knowing what you were going to say. 

“Why does he even like her? I don’t see it. He’s been obsessed with her ever since high school, what has she got that I don’t have?” you complained, knowing it wasn’t going to make you feel any better. But maybe ranting about it all day would at least boost your ego.

It in fact, did not. Not even in the slightest. Complaining about it all day just made it occupy your mind even more. 

“Comparing yourself to Estelle isn’t going to change anything, and hey you never know maybe she’s got a good personality.” she shrugged. You raised your eyebrows at her as she tried to suppress her giggles. 

“I don’t think you even believe that.” you laughed dryly. She nodded, “Trust me, I don’t.” 

The two of you burst out in laughter and for a moment everything was okay. And you believed it. 

“C’mon, let’s go eat some cookies.” Bianca offered after the two of you had stopped laughing. You nodded, feeling better than before, the thought of Ollie still at the back of your mind but at least it didn’t hurt as much anymore. 

The two of you made your way downstairs to the kitchen where your Mother was. 

“Hey girls,” she smiled as the two of you took a seat at the bench. 

“Oh, can you go quickly and buy some milk for the hot chocolates? Take an umbrella with you.” your Mother asked, you let out an internal groan. You glanced out the window at the awful weather outside that almost mirrored what you felt inside. 

“Can we both go?” you asked, leaning on Bianca, but your Mother answered suspiciously fast. “No, I need her to help me with the dishes.”

“Sure.” you answered sceptically, jumping off the stool and going to grab a jacket. 

You ran through the rain, dodging puddles and potholes as you made your way down the street. The rain began to slow down as you entered the shop, you quickly popped into the dairy aisle and grabbed a carton off the shelf. 

Paying for it, eager to get back home, you stuffed the change and receipt in your pocket and zoomed (zoomed . . .?) out the door. 

Ring, ring.

Who is it?

It’s irony, she’s being a bitch again.

You halted in your steps as your eyes locked with Ollie’s. 

You knew it. You were right. What a liar. Your Mother had bought Milk yesterday. Well wasn’t that just lovely? Now, you couldn’t trust your best friend or your Mother. The person who had birthed you, betrayal at its finest right there. 

You weren’t even thinking straight when you spoke, you were so tired of this, of him. “Why are you here?” you demanded coldly, expecting a deep and emotional answer. 

“To buy milk. . .  for hot chocolate.” Ollie answered as he stared at the milk in your hands. You blinked. Ollie blinked back. 

“Did your Mum send you?” you asked, honestly impressed that both your Mother’s could curate such a witty plan. It didn’t take a genius to put two and two together. Ollie must’ve spoken to his Mother about everything that had happened. He nodded.

“Huh. Well that’s great. I’ll see you around.” you turned to walk away from him and head back home. Your clothes already soaked wet from the rain, especially your socks, and that wasn’t a nice feeling at all. 

“Wait, Y/N,  please.” Ollie called after you, making you stop. You hated that it was so easy, that he could call your name and you’d drop everything for him. 

“Why, Oliver? Do you want to tell me that you want to talk to me and then just blow me off for Estelle? Because I won’t let you, not anymore. I’m so sick and tired of this, hoping, waiting for you to even give me a minute of your time. To pay me even the littlest of attention at all. Do you think it’s easy to live like this? 

To want someone you can never have? I don’t even understand why I still want you, I should have never gone to Saudi Arabia, it was a mistake. I should’ve moved on, I should have never caught feelings thinking that maybe one day we’d end up together. But no, it’s got to be so much more complicated than that, because you give me false hope and then I end up being the fool. The pathetic girl who still loves you.” 

You swallowed hard, the breath in your lungs gone. Ollie stared at you, taken aback by your outburst. Good. At least now he knew. You’d said what you’d kept inside for so long and it felt good. 

“I never meant to blow you off like that, Y/N.” Ollie began, it was your turn to be taken aback. The two of you were still standing in the rain, it almost felt like a dang movie scene. 

“I was just so confused after the driver's room. And it isn’t an excuse, I’ll never stop being sorry for the way that I treated you after I left. After I left you.  I wanted to call and text you but I just thought it would make it easier to stop loving you if I didn’t say anything. That if I tried hard enough, my feelings for you would go away. I was too selfish and tried to replace you with Estelle which wasn’t  fair to either of you. I wanted you to move on, to continue living life, find someone else who was better and could be here in Chelmsford for you.  I’m sorry, I really hope you can forgive me, I never meant for it to end up like this.”

There was a long string of silence. Just the two of you standing in the rain, staring at one another like no one else in the world mattered. And maybe this is what you both needed, for closure. 

But you just couldn’t help yourself.

“You loved me. . .?” you whispered, you doubted he heard you at all. It was almost like you were asking yourself that question. 

“Are you kidding, how could I not? The girl who was the first person to ever let me ramble on about Where’s Wally? Y/N, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” Ollie confessed, you felt like you’d died of a heart attack and gone to heaven. It all felt like one of those fever dreams.

He had to be lying, it all felt too good to be true. 

“Ollie. . .” you trailed off, the words leaving your mind the moment you opened your mouth. His eyes hadn’t left yours, as if he was urging you to continue, to say something, anything. 

But you couldn’t. 

What if you said something and ruined everything? It had happened too many times in the past week, especially around Ollie. 

“I don’t want to say it. . . “ you whispered to him over the soft patter of the rain. You wiped your tears away, hoping that he hadn’t noticed the way your voice wobbled when you spoke. Your throat hurt from holding back tears. 

“Then let me say it for you.” Ollie said taking a courageous step toward you. Your breath got caught in your throat as you looked up at him. He gently took your hands in his, heart skipping a beat you were enthralled by the giant brown eyes you fell in love with all those years ago. 

“I love you.” 

He said every word with certainty you knew he couldn’t be lying.

You weren’t the fool anymore. The lovesick girl who’d fallen for her best friend. You were the girl he loved too. And maybe there were still a million things left to figure out, to understand, but in that moment time stood still and everything you’d ever hoped for, wished for, came true. 

You were pretty sure you weren’t even breathing anymore. Your heart was beating so loudly in your ears and it didn’t help that it began to go 100km/hour when Ollie began to lean in slowly. 

And it was perfect. Everything you’d ever imagined and better. Maybe it would be difficult but anything that came your way, you’d handle it together. 

You pulled away, your lips tingling like you’d downed a bunch of pop rocks. 

“I can’t believe it took me so long to do that.” Ollie whispered, his lips still grazing yours. You couldn’t help but chuckle as you gente cupped his cheek, pressing a kiss to his lips again. 

“Want to come over for hot chocolate and cookies, Bearman?” you asked, looking up at him, your cheeks flushed. He grinned back. 

“You know me so well.” 

“You’re crazy.” you laughed. 

“Only for you,” he replied.

And it was true. 

Fin.

a/n: wow! tysm for reading “i wish i was who you drunk texted at midnight”!! I hope you enjoyed it! This concludes the two part ollie fic of mine, tysm for the support love u all! xoxo santanasaintmendes 💗

taglist!!!: @eloriis, @papayadays @seasonswinter @myangelbaby555

[scrapyardboyfriends]

Reasons why they should bring Seb back

Now that they’ve gone through the trouble of killing Rebecca off screen (hooray! It’s about time!), it seems only logical that they would do the right thing and bring Seb back, which means I have absolutely zero confidence in them doing so. But here’s my list of why they really really should, as I have been advocating for years now.

Section 1: It would break Aaron out of character growth jail. Since Robert went to prison, Aaron has lost so much. He’s lost a husband and a sister. He lost being a married man, owning his own home and owning his own business. And one of the most important growth things he lost was being a father. He’d already lost Seb and Ryan leaving wrecked the surrogacy story. So bringing Seb back would:

1. Allow Aaron to fulfill the dream he had of being a father and having a family. So many characters just get handed unwanted children but Aaron actually wanted to be a dad and so of course he lost out on that. Giving him Seb would allow him to realize that goal again.

2. Allow Aaron to grow up again. Since his return, he’s been angry, mean, adrift, committing petty crime again for no reason. Seb being back would give him purpose and a reason to clean up his act. It would allow him to get to be an adult again, something the character sorely needs.

3. Allow Aaron to have screen time and positive story. Aaron has been off screen a lot, so much so that all of his current relationship story development has taken place almost entirely off screen. Seb being back would give Aaron an actual story to play out, especially if there were difficulties in getting formal custody. It’s also a story that would have a happy outcome, once he gets custody, which is something the show could really use right now in the midst of all of the depressing terrible stories. And Aaron has always had such a miserable time on the show so I feel like people would root for something good to happen to him.

4. Allow Aaron to have new kinds of stories. Single Dad Aaron opens up so man new possibilities for him, being able to take on a parental role, having to think about Seb’s needs and not just his own.

5. Allow Aaron to have a full circle moment looking after a troubled kid the way Paddy looked after him.

6. Allow Aaron to interact with new characters. Single Dad Aaron would have more opportunity to interact with the other parents in the village. It might give him more reason to have a proper friendship with Billy for example aside from silly illegal boxing stories. It puts him into new circles, which can open him up for new possibilities.

Section 2: Seb gives Aaron a permanent tie to Robert. For whatever reason, the powers that be seem unwilling to let Aaron fully move on from Robert (that’s another whole post I want to write) but this would give them real reason for Robert to be a constant presence in Aaron’s life without it seeming weird or needing Ryan back. It allows him to never fully move on. The Seb/Robert connection:

1. Allows Aaron to keep Robert in his heart through Seb. He can bring him up with Seb, helping his son love his father and making sure he knows who he was/is.

2. Allows Aaron to maybe hear from Robert from time to time. Robert might have to consent to Aaron being the one to have custody of Seb and Robert wanting that, would be a nice signal to Aaron to that Robert still loves him and trusts him.

3. Allows Aaron to maybe finally deal with some of his Robert feelings in a more productive way, in a more positive way. And because he’s raising his kid, in a way that perhaps even his mother could understand and allow.

4. Allows Aaron to bring Robert up in any new relationship, not just because the show makes him accidentally sleep with Robert’s long lost gay half brother. He needs to consider Seb’s feelings in any new relationship and part of that can be whether Robert would approve of said new man in his son’s life.

5. Allows for an even more interesting return story should they ever actually coax Ryan Hawley back.

Section 3: Bringing Seb back can be a part of rebuilding the Sugdens. Obviously that was a line they used in reference to bringing John in and we’ve seen what a joke that has been. However, Seb:

1. Is the son of the ultimate Emmerdale Sugden legacy character, Robert. And he’s not retconned in the way John is. He’s someone people can watch grow up and continue the family legacy, especially if they go the full mile and give him his proper name.

2. Allows them to bring Aaron more into the Sugden family. While, yes, Seb would probably get lumped into the Dingles at times because of Aaron, Aaron can also get brought into Sugden family time, such as it is.

3. Allows them to give Vic and Harry more screen time, and use Vic’s obsessive family tendencies to get Seb back, giving her something positive to do instead of just being annoying. It maybe lets Harry become more of an actual character if he has a cousin with story potential.

4. Gives the Sugdens, such as they are, someone to rally around in general.

5. Is actually related to people like the Merricks, unlike Vic, if they wanted to explore that connection as well.

Section 4: Bringing Seb back is the perfect opportunity to use the fact that Danny is good with the kids.

1. Danny is great with the kids on screen and off and the kids seem to love him back.

2. It would be a better way to use some of his more cringe humor.

3. If they actually cast a good kid actor that Danny can play off of well, they could be such a fun little duo.

Section 5: There’s no reason not to do it. There’s nothing stopping them other than their own inability to tell a good or even mediocre story.

1. They’ve already gone through the trouble of killing Rebecca off. What was the point of that if they’re not going to bring Seb back. They’ve already done half the work.

2. It’s not contingent on getting an actor like Ryan back. They can literally cast any red headed or blonde child for the role (hopefully a good one but I digress…)

So in conclusion: BRING SEB HOME!

[azulock]

this is a different one, no dialogue and no names mentioned. so despite it being written with Oliver in mind, you could read it thinking of whatever bulky dark haired fave you have. also it has a plot, but the plot is mostly smut. and seesh despite all that has been happening to me, I deliver 5k words for Halloween, that's a lot. show your appreciation in the tags, or in a reply, it really helps keep the writing fire alive. either way, happy halloween my ghosties

summary. a stupid bet sees you visiting a haunted cave to prove to your friends that ghosts aren't real, but when you go back home, something goes back with you, and it always finds you in your dreams

pairing.Oliver Aiku x F!Reader

wordcount. 5k

warnings.nsfw, kinda noncon but mostly dubcon, ghost fucking I guess, a cameo of tentacle like appendages

unwanted hitchhiker

Ghosts didn’t exist. That was an inarguable fact of life. Ghosts did not exist. The only thing going bump in the night is the wind. The strange noises in old houses are just the weakening structure slowly coming apart. And the strange shadows people saw are most likely a gas leak. Ghosts simply did not exist.

Then why were you sweating cold from just entering a stuffy old cave?

It was a stupid bet. A stupid stupid bet one of your dumbass friends proposed when you - correctly - informed them that ghosts didn’t exist. You were all at a bar after work talking about the beach trip you’d all be going in a few days, when someone commented that there was a forest near the lodge you’d be staying that was supposed to be haunted.

A couple of your friends seemed spooked by the notion and you laughed it off. Ghosts don’t exist, that is what you said. When you die, you die, and that’s the end of it. But they insisted, they argued, until they proposed a dare. It was stupid, and since the burden of proof fell into those claiming the existence of something, you really had no reason to accept it. But being a one too many beers in, you accepted.

The dare was stupidly obvious. At nightfall, you were to follow the marked trail into the haunted forest, and on the first fork you’d turn left and head into cave that was said to be the center of the haunting. Inside, you’d have to walk to the collapsed remains of an entrance to an old shrine that now laid buried under the rocks. Once there, you just had to take a picture of your hand touching the rocks and you were free to go.

Simple and straight forward. There were no dangerous animals in the forest, the trail was well marked and lit up, and not even bats lived in the cave. Get in, get out, then profit. Nothing to worry about, nothing to fear.

Then, why did your spine tingle the moment you stepped off the trail and into the rock that made up the cave?

Maybe it was just how noticeably cold it was in this dark, damp cave. Or maybe, you were actually afraid, it wouldn’t be weird to feel fear when entering alone an ancient gaping hole in the mountain range. Where the trail before now had been well lit and clean - unsurprisingly, this beach was a tourist hotspot - the short path to the cave quickly lost it’s well kept appeal. With a quick glance back you told yourself you had to get on with it.

Stepping further into the near pitch black cave you felt that same shiver run up your spine again. You wouldn’t dare to blame it fully on fear though, not with how this place seemed to suck up all the heat around. The air inside the cave was noticeably a few degrees colder than the outside, chill seeping into your fingertips as you lifted up your phone to use as a flashlight.

When light hit this place you finally caught an idea of what it looked like. The cave seemed to suck up even the cold light from your phone, but it was still enough to see something. The space around you was vast, stretching large and long, the solid floor glistening wet, with water pooling here and there. Looking up, you found yourself surrounded by rock as ancient as the mountain itself, cracks littering the ceiling, and water dripping from some of them.

Suddenly you could find sense in your fear. This place had been carved into an old mountain, and the shrine at the very bottom had already been buried under rumble from an earthquake long ago. You were probably feeling the rock shift, vibrations that resound so low the human ear can’t pick it, but the body can still sense them. The infamous ghost frequency, where the brain, without a way to find the sound, can only translate the vibrations as a this strange foreboding danger.

Knowing this gave you no peace, however. Where logic often served to quell your fear of the unknown, this time it failed. Maybe it was all the humidity in the cave turning the air heavy and dense, making breathing a difficult task. So difficult that it felt like a hand grasped around your throat, or that you had a whole body lying on your back. Creepy shit.

Shaking your head you forced yourself to move forward, with the flashlight you could see the outline of a rope on the far side wall, that was your destination. Gathering all your courage you pressed on, wet sounds ringing through the cave as you stepped on a large puddle. Out of instinct, you pointed the phone down, catching sight of a slither of green - lichen, growing on the rock floor. Curiosity made you wave your phone, illuminating more tendrils of green, the lichen seeming to grow in the direction you were going.

Step after step the air felt heavier, your heart beating faster and faster the closer you got to the rock wall, the smell of water, moss and musk intoxicating to your nose. The tendrils of lichen growing thicker and thicker until they fused with each other, gathering at the collapsed entrance, slipping inside the old shire through cracks in the rumble. Or maybe, were they spreading out of it?

Here, water seemed to drip from the rocks more abundantly. Perhaps this was the reason why the lichen seemed drawn to this place. And yet, despite the overbearing humidity and unstopping movement of time, before you stood a long stretch of thick hemp rope. It seemed old - old enough to be actual hemp. Much, much older than you, but it still seemed solid, as if held together by a force beyond nature.

You shook your head again, you were letting yourself get caught by the situation. The long stretch of rope adorned with folded white paper surrounded what once had been the entrance to the old shrine, now closed off by fallen rubble. Scattered over the rock were paper talismans, you couldn’t really tell what was written on them, or what they were supposed to mean, but this wasn’t your main question. Indeed, you just couldn’t help but wonder how the glue hadn’t worn out after so long.

No time to think, this was the place, only one thing left now.

Taking a deep breath you tried to calm yourself, this was it, it was already over, only the last step and you were free to go. The air you inhaled helped in nothing though, it crashed heavy and warm in your lungs, like something was breathing in your face. Best not to dwell on it. Fuck this place, just take the picture and go.

With a hesitant step, you came face to face with the rock, the imposing rope standing eye level with you. Yet again, a shiver runs down your spine, so you just decide to get it over with. Hastily, you lift your left hand and place it over the rock without thinking where. It lands under the thick rope, fingers brushing over one of the talismans, the paper feeling strangely dry to your skin.

You pull up your phone, select the camera, frame your hand, and snap! Your flashlight flickers for a second before coming back on again. With the same haste you pull back your hand, but when you do, the talisman under your finger follows. Shit, you probably just desecrated a historical place. Stupid ass bet.

However, just as the realization of your mistake sinks in, a gush of cold wind blows through the cave. It brushes against your skin, making the chill burrow into your flesh and creep through your veins. For a second, you feel as if something long frozen slipped into your body. But just as it came, it was gone again. The wind died out and you were back to normal.

Fuck this place, you were getting out of here.

When you got back to the lodge you shoved the picture in their faces. There were no ghosts, you told them, mystery solved. Someone said you were brave, another that you were no fun, and someone else snickered, laughing as they said you should be careful, maybe a ghost could follow you home. Sure, as if.

Your trip to the beach with your friends took three days, and you did the dare on the last one. As you’d told your friends before, you weren’t willing to catch some weird cave disease and spend your whole trip in bed sick for a stupid fucking dare. No goddamn way.

The last night you spent on your trip went well enough. You drank, you had fun, you went back to your room to get ready for the return trip the next day. All going on like normal, no shivers through the night, no shadows on the edge of your view. All quiet on your front. Except, when you laid down to sleep, you had strange dreams.

You would not dare call them nightmares, but they sure weren’t your usual. You were more of a dreamless void type of sleeper. But this time you dreamed vividly, maybe not in sight but in feeling. It all felt real, weirdly real. Maybe more real than reality in itself.

The way your skin tingled, the warmth of someone’s breath on your neck, the feeling of hands all over your body. You couldn’t see anything but somehow you knew you were back into the cave. The water feeling cold to your touch, the lichen pricking your naked skin, the rock hard under you. And yet, there was a warm body pressed against your back, hands rough and hot all over your body. They kept the cold at bay as they moved closer and closer to your core.

You struggled, or at least you tried to, fighting back to for control over your surroundings. But quickly you found yourself overpowered, arms and legs being bound in a strange, warm and wet embrace - like the lichen was binding you to the rocky floor. The large hands on your body traveled further towards their destination, one landing on your exposed breast and the other finding your pussy. You were naked, body and soul, and ready for the taking. And whatever force held you down, it felt hungry.

The hand on your breast squeezed hard, fingers sinking painfully into your flesh. The one on your pussy found your clit and carelessly worked the little nub to it’s pleasure. There was so much heat seeping into you and the air felt so heavy, bearing down on your lungs. The same smell you felt before filled your nostrils again, moss, water and musk.

You tried to scream, but it was to no avail. If anything, it seemed to spur the hands to work faster. The one on your chest moved away, fingers slipping into your mouth to shut you up. The one on your pussy positioned its thumb over your clit, three other fingers sliding inside your wet hole. You wanted to scream, but you couldn’t. Still, you tried to struggle, fighting your hardest for as long as you could.

But this was a losing battle, and it didn’t take long for the fight to be fully lost. You were growing tired, and the pleasure was growing higher and higher until it overpowered your will. A shock ran through your body, coiling every muscle and shaking your convulsing core. You wanted to scream again, and this time the hand on your mouth slipped away, letting your voice be heard. Whatever was holding your limbs let go, and the last thing you felt before waking up was one of the hands softly caressing your face. You woke up in the morning to the wind softly blowing past your window and into your bedroom.

That had been four nights ago. For four nights you’d been having the same dream, and every night you woke up wet with sweat, and something else. You brushed it off as a weird hick of the mind. It could be like that. You spent most nights in a dreamless sleep, but sometimes, if something weird happened, you’d spend nearly a week having strange dreams. It would pass - and yet, it felt different.

The dream was always the very same, the place was always the cave, and whatever touched you always felt like the same thing. Always the same dream, except for how it escalated every night, getting more and more intense. You never saw the face - or anything for that matter - of whatever plagued your sleep, but you felt it, you felt it so clearly. And on the last night, the fourth night, you were sure you felt the outline of its dick rubbing against your pussy.

This was the fifth day, well, had been, now that dusk had settled, it was the fifth night. And by god, you were starting to get antsy just from the need to fall asleep. This was insane, it made no sense at all. It was just a bad dream - then, why wouldn't it just stop? You refused to believe there could be anything more to it, and the fact that it happened after your visit to the cave was just coincidence. It was nothing, it had to be.

Truth be told you’d started fearing dreaming itself. You’d started fearing falling back into dreamland. Back into the hands of whatever inhabited your subconscious mind. Back into a state where your will was so easily toppled by this sickly pleasure. You’d started fearing falling asleep - even though a part of you felt strangely anxious for it, and you’d started fearing that part of yourself too.

Stupid, you told yourself. It was nothing, you reminded yourself. It was all in your mind, you insisted, trying to convince your own self as you laid in bed. You’d fall asleep today, and by tomorrow this would all be gone. It would be over. You were sure of it.

And with this certainty you closed your eyes, ready to plunge into Morpheus’ embrace, tomorrow this would be no longer.

The smell of moss, musk and water invades your nostrils again. You are back to breathing that heavy, dense air. Back to feeling the wet, hard rock under your legs. This time there is a hum that runs through the cave, reverberating through the rocky walls, until it lands back on your ears and makes you shiver.

It’s not a human sound, more like the wind whispering in an language long lost, but it sounds pleasured, somehow. You cannot understand what it says yet it sends a jolt through your body that tenses your muscles. But in the depths of fear you find a sliver of pleasure.

As the sound travels through your flesh, the vibrations reverberate in the body behind yours. This time it feels more physical than it ever did. The sound waves lacing with a strange warmth as they travel from that unknown body back to you. It makes you oddly aware of the sensation of hard muscle wrapped in cloth that embraces you from behind. The feeling of soft and thick linen rubbing against your skin. The steady movement of rise and fall against your back. The fanning of a hot breath touching your neck.

It is almost human. Almost. Eerily real in a way that dreams aren’t meant to be. It’s entrancing, the sensation of rough hands traveling over your skin. The slight bite of the nails as thick fingers sink into your flesh, trying to burrow their way in. You try to fight again, to break free, but the strong arms around you only pull you closer. When did you start noticing how large those arms were?

Your struggles seem pointless to the thing holding you down. Thick arms bring you deeper into this strange embrace, and the more you try to fight, the deeper you seem to sink. There is a deep hum echoing from behind you again, and the entire cave seems to rumble. Hot breath fans over your skin, so close now that you can feel it’s wetness, and at the same time, wind blows through the stone walls. That’s when you realize, the cave is breathing with him.

Him?

No time to think as one of the hands finds its way down to your core again. Two thick fingers encase your clit, sending electricity up your spine, lighting up every nerve in its wake. The other hand has found your breast, pinching your nipple between the rough pads of his thumb and forefinger. He is careless, aggressive even, and it has you squirming. Whining in a way that has him responding with an amused hum that travels in the wind and echoes through the walls.

You try to muster a no, try to bargain with whatever has you on such a strong hold, but the words stick to your throat, choking the wind from your lungs. The cave rumbles together with the shaking of his chest, his breath touching your skin in short, staggered huffs. His face is so close you can smell the air he exhales, feel the shape of his jaw and the stubble running against your neck, sense his whole torso rumble. He is laughing.

His fingers squeeze your clit again and you gasp, trying to move your legs wildly to get out. It’s no use, you feel something slither up and wrap your thighs once more, this time drawing your shaking legs further apart. You try to resist but he moves the fingers on your clit in a way that has pleasure shaking your body, making your pussy twitch in need. Pleasure starts to mount in your body and eat away at reason. And that’s when you feel it.

The skin that pushes against your wet folds is warm and soft, but its touch feels hard as rock. You don’t even need to look down to know what’s pressing against your pussy. The shape and feeling of a hard cock is unmistakable. And even if you tried, something in you refused to look down - if in fear or excitement, you couldn’t really tell.

The more he presses his hardened length against you, the more you realize its sheer size. He is huge, long, and thick, overwhelmingly so, and you aren’t so sure that this is going to work. Though, you don’t really think the thought has crossed his mind.

He starts to push himself harder into your pussy, shoving his massive length into you. You try to struggle, trying to tell him it won’t fit. But your voice is nothing more than a murmur, and the cave only rumbles in response as he once more flicks your clit in a way that has you shaking in pleasure.

The creature behind you takes this chance and with a swift movement, he shoves his cock into your pussy. You gasp at the painful stretch, your walls trembling against the intrusion. Then he starts moving again, and you realize, he isn’t fully in yet.

He gives you no time to resist as he pushes himself the rest of the way in, forcing his cock balls deep, pushing you to the extreme. You cry out when he fully buries himself, a pained sound but there is pleasure mixed in it. And then he starts moving, deep and hard, and you cry out again but this time the sound is silenced by a thunderous surge of wind.

That’s when you wake up.

Violent winds blow through your windows and your eyes open in shock. You find yourself sitting in bed as thunder crashes outside, but that isn’t something you can worry about when you feel your body rock with a moan. The sensation of a cock ramming into your pussy continues, you try to move your legs but they still seem tied down, and the feeling of a body around you isn’t gone.

Awakening doesn’t seem to have ended the dream.

Your whole body shakes again and again as he shoves his cock deep into your. The pain from the stretch and violation starts to mix with the pleasure from his thick fingers on your clit. You dart your eyes around the room rapidly, not able to move your body, unsure of what is happening, of what you are supposed to be feeling. It’s strange, scary, and weirdly exciting all at once.

A moan fills your ears and it takes you a long moment to recognize it as your own, your voice echoing strange through the walls of your bedroom. They are the walls of your bedroom, that much you can recognize the moment your eyes focus. It’s hard to form any thought with the way his cock has pleasure shaking your body and fogging your mind but you try.

With what little consciousness you can muster you try to look around. You can feel his hand on your breast, pulling you flush against his body. Feel the fingers on your clit and the cock fucking your fast and hard, but you look down and you can’t see anything. Not until your eyes catch the mirror in front of your bed.

You gasp in both shock and pleasure as you take in the sight reflected before you. Where you could see nothing before now the image is clear. Sitting behind you is a large man, wearing what seems like old shinto robes, your body propped onto his lap. Coming from behind him are the green thick tendrils that hold your legs open. He has one hand under your oversized sleep shirt, the other is on your clit. And now you can clearly see his massive cock moving in and out of your pussy.

He gives one especially hard thrust and your whole body rocks, his fingers unrelenting on your poor clit. You moan out, hands finding purchase on his thick legs, feeling the rough fabric under your palm. Your mind is slipping, slowly drawing blank with pleasure, but your eyes still don’t dare leave the mirror.

Once more he gives the same hard thrust making you cry out, pussy walls coiling around his thick, veiny cock. His torso rumbles in satisfaction again, but this time there is no wind, no response from the environment, only the shaking of his body. You finally manage to fix your eyes to his face buried against your neck and you get why there is no sound.

His black hair falls messy in front of his face, but it doesn’t hide the talismans over his eyes, nor the one covering his mouth. Now that you notice it, it looks like he has those things all over his body, scattered on his old linen robe. It seems odd, curious - but you don’t get a chance to wonder when he speeds up his thrusts.

The intense, overwhelming sensation of being filled to the brim and then more washes over your body and mind. It has you whimpering and begging - if it’s for more or for him to stop you yourself don’t know. You are sure he wouldn’t stop either way. He thrusts hard and deep, faster and faster, his cock throbbing within your gummy walls. You feel it, every inch, much more than you logically should, but your mind is too foggy from the relentless fucking to focus on those details right now.

Your hands grip onto the linen of his pants, a fabric you can feel, but only see in the reflection on the mirror. The same reflection that shows you fucked out, mouth agape, tears welling in your eyes - but you didn’t even feel them there. You look mindless, completely vulnerable and small against the hulking figure fucking you from behind. And for a moment he looks back at you.

For just a second you catch a glimpse of green shining from behind the talisman placed over his left eye. A flash of color and suddenly its gone, but a shadow of a smile crosses his features, despite the old paper covering his mouth. Then a hum resonates into your flesh, vibrations coming from deep within his body until they reach your core.

Somehow they enhance your pleasure, having you shaking, eyes rolling back as you moan from the combination of sensations. The hand squeezing your breast, the fingers teasing your nipple and that monstrous cock impaling your soft insides. The pain from his size now being overtaken by the pleasure, your body betraying your mind as it lets the invasion of this stranger win.

There isn’t much to be done at this point as he rocks you up and down on his lap, your brain focusing on nothing but the feeling of him inside you. The feeling of his cock forcing your walls apart with every violent thrust. The way your whole pussy throbs in time with the movements of his fingers on your clit.

Your core is spasming against him, your breaths growing shorter and shorter. You’re sweating, his skin feels hot where it touches yours, and it's like he is warming the entire room. Your whole body is lighting up, every nerve on fire, every muscle coiling, drawing so tight they could snap. The world around you dissolves, the fog on your mind growing thicker until there are only the rhythmic thrusts of his cock and the warmth of his body around yours.

It’s too much, too much. You babble something unintelligible, you can feel your mind slipping from you. When you try to cry out, the words choke on your throat, your breath draws short, the muscles in your chest coiling so tight, crushing your lungs. You are choking, drawing in this mix of pleasure and pain, fear and excitement. It’s too much, too strong, too good and then you snap. That pained cry finally slips from your lips until there is bliss.

To you, your orgasm feels like it lasted an eternity. Your senses dulled to the world, engulfing you in a timeless void where there is only the feeling of pleasure coursing through your body. Then your senses start returning, first picking up static before letting the world back in.

The first thing you notice is that he isn’t done, his thrusts going faster and harder. Something you wouldn’t think humanly possible. But this thing wasn’t human after all, was he? You are too fucked out and tired for this question.

All you know is the feeling of him - whatever he is - ramming into you again and again. And the way your oversensitive pussy tells you this speed must be a sign he is nearing his end. What with how his cock is throbbing violently within you, pulsating more and more intensely with every push.

The hand under your shirt pulls you snug against his body, fingers trying to burrow into the flesh of your tit. The one that was on your clit is on your hip, helping to move you up and down with so much ease that it makes you seem weightless. You curl your hands around his large arms to hold on, feeling thick muscle tense under his clothes. If he notices the gesture, he doesn’t show, keeping up the speed as you fight to stabilize yourself.

His thrusts are so intense, so fast and it feels like he is going to tear you apart. You’ve already gone past your brink but he still hasn’t reached his, and it’s way too much for your abused pussy, way too much for your still fuzzy mind. Before you notice it, tears are rolling down your eyes from the exhaustion of all these overwhelming sensations.

You feel the stubble tickling the skin of your face again, and looking at the mirror you see him move his head against yours. He pushes his face into your own, rubbing his nose over where your tears rolled. Another melodic hum resounds from deep within him. It feels somehow soothing - but he still speeds up his thrusts even more.

A whimper escapes your mouth as he fucks himself into you, fast and deep. He pulls your body impossibly closer, not letting you move a single inch away. Within you, his hard length twitches and throbs with fervor. He is going faster and harder and deeper, until suddenly he pulls you down forcefully.

His arms hold you in place, his cock buried as deep as it can go, and then you feel it, thick hot cum pouring inside your sensitive pussy. It coats your insides, filling you to the brim, warming up your body in a way that’s not natural. You feel it drip down your thigh, and when you look at your core, you see nothing, it’s strange. But your eyes finally find the mirror and there it is, clear as day, his cum spilling from your pussy to your legs, his cock still buried inside you.

Your tired gaze lingers there for a long moment, before taking in the whole picture. The arms wrapped around your body. The tendrils still holding onto your legs. The hulking figure behind you. You look exhausted, but he looks somewhat tired too, if the heavy rise and fall of his torso tells you anything, since the talismans on his face hide any expression.

But still, you notice he doesn’t let go of you. And strange as it is, you find an odd comfort in that. Part of you says you shouldn’t, but another part doesn’t care. As if sensing your gaze, he looks up from your neck to the mirror, and despite the talismans covering his eyes, you can tell he is looking directly at you.

That’s when you feel a pull, calling your hand to his face, and a thought crosses your mind. What if you removed one of those things?

azulock halloween 2024 - reblogs and replies keep authors alive! banner art from: human sacrifice!! bitch-chan by rorogi mogera

[fea-the-grinch]

Why did Agatha continue to kill witches after Nicky's death, knowing she would probably see Rio, the woman who took away her son, every time she did ? (Spoiler: I'm just writing my thoughts, and they destroy me. Agatha and Rio's dynamic is something else, and these last episodes did NOT help. If anything, they just created more questions.)

From the scenes we were shown (don't get me started on what we saw and what we didn't, because that's one of the things I'm the most mad about right now), there's no indication that Agatha saw Rio after killing her covens. Yet, it would make sense that she did. But then, why would she keep on killing other witches ? To gain more power, always in order to survive, no matter how much it hurt to see Rio again ? To curse Death endlessly for what she did to Agatha's own son ? That's torture, for both of them. It would be an incredibly cruel move on Agatha's part. Rio was doing her job. Not once did she desire to hurt Agatha.

Now, Rio knows she did hurt Agatha, she took the most precious thing her lover ever had. In my opinion, that's why Rio put up with Agatha's rage and hate for so long. She probably thought that it would pass, that Agatha would end up forgiving her. Rio's love for Agatha never decayed. Therefore, having the love of her life cursing her all the time, for the rest of her human (witch) life, must be torture for Rio. Yet, she endures it. Because she loves Agatha, even though Agatha can't see it anymore, don't care about it anymore. Agatha only sees her own hurt, and the fact that the great love of her life is the one who accepted to cause it.

Agatha did say, when she buried Nicky, that her heart was buried with him. Maybe it's at that point that any hope of her becoming a better person was lost. She wouldn't care about anyone ever again. Only her own survival would matter. No one ever had shown Agatha that having relations with other people could actually be a good thing for her, so she buried her only chance here and there, without even an afterthought. She had nothing more to lose (except a better life, even if it was without her son)(but she couldn't know that).

Therefore, continuing to kill witches was to accomplish that goal : survival. Killing witches means getting their powers, means getting always stronger. (Hence her coming into Wanda's Hex and trying to steal the Scarlet Witch's powers.) Seeing Rio ended up being a bonus for Agatha : she got to throw hands with the woman who took her son away from her. From Agatha's point of view, Nicky just disappeared through the night, she woke up and he was gone. But she instantly knew who, what, took him. She had somewhere to direct her anger and sadness, which became hate, because when was Agatha ever taught anything else. (With Rio and Nicky, she was taught something else, she was taught the opposite - love -, which probably made everything worse.) No matter how cruel it was towards Rio herself, it was all Agatha could think of doing, it was all she knew: throwing insults left and right, get people mad at her. (That's probably why she almost kissed Rio in ep 4 : after all that time Agatha spent hating Rio, Rio still loved her. It's something Agatha has never known. Yet, at that point, it didn't mean that much to her anyway. This moment only happened because of emotional she was, with Billy reminding her of her own son.) Screaming at Rio was an outlet for Agatha's own enormous and terrifying feelings, feelings that tear her apart when she sees Rio and/or is reminded of Nicky.

Now, I still don't have an explanation for these last episodes... still need time to process what happened, and what didn't happen. We still need so many answers.

[another-clive-blog]

Thinking about the Clive and Bill parallels again...

Both started with pretty average goals (gaining money / getting closure). Both became obsessed with said goals to the point of going through with their plans no matter the cost. Both became consumed by the desire to pursue a goal that isn't actually achievable (You can get more money but it will never feel like it's enough. You can lash out in anger but it won't make the anger go away). Both ended up killing innocents.

And yet.

Bill getting rid of his humanity in the hopes of getting money. Clive getting rid of his money in the hopes of getting his humanity back. Bill claiming he despises people like Clive when he has himself killed innocents for his own selfish plans. Clive claiming he hates politicians and scientists but still using science to build a mecha and politics to justify its use. Bill hiding everything, hiding from Claire that the machine isn't ready, hiding his crime from everyone. Clive exposing everything, exposing his secret base to Layton, exposing Bill and Dimitri's crime by his staging. Bill covering up the incident while Clive broadcasted his crime inside the fortress.

I don't know where I was going with this. Maybe that prime minister Bill looks like a honest citizen, just your regular Londoner really, while Clive is so obviously violent and destructive : and yet, Clive is the dove and Bill the hawk. Funny.

[avirael]

FFxivWrite 2024

Day 18 - Hackneyed

With a curious expression A’viloh looked up to the giant statue of some saint in the middle of the plaza. It was beautifully crafted from a block of white stone and depitected a knight wearing cloak and armour. His face was hidden by a helmet.

“Don’t you think they all look the same somehow?”

“A bit. I assume this whole heroically fighting against the dragons story can get a little overused and repetitive in 1000 years…”, Rael offered and turned their attention to the statue in front of them too.

The Miqo’te furrowed his brows.

“But don’t you think each of them must have been a lot more individual than that with their own dreams and hopes? It doesn’t seem fair that they all look the same, their faces hidden by a mask…”

Somehow the idea of having all their stories reduced to almost identical, grey, expressionless faces of stone was a sad one. But Rael assumed that this was what time did to memories sometimes, once no one was left to remember their faces or how things had actuall happened.

“Maybe if our plan works, they one day built one of these for you or me too. The ears should be recognisable at least…”, Rael joked in an attempt to brighten the mood. “Saint A’viloh - he bravely fought against the dragon brood on the Steps of Faith and brought peace to Ishgard…”

But imagining that seemed to make A’viloh even more thoughtful. “I’m not sure I want to fight against the dragons. Vishap was already terrifying, can you imagine how horrible the great wyrms must be? Besides, don’t all saints die some horrible and painful death?”

“True…”, Rael mused. “But even though Iceheart may have a point, I don’t think this conflict can just be ended as easily as everybody seems to hope right now…”

“But aren’t they all tired of fighting by now? Isn’t all this talk of holy wars and heresy getting old?”, A’viloh asked and looked distressed, like he himself was already tired of it.

The Viera sighed and remembered their kins hatred for the Garleans. The conflict for Golmore was by far not that old yet as this war but had already produced so much bloodshed too.

“It’s not that easy, A’vi. A thousand years are a long time. One cruelty avenged by another and another and another. The Ishgardians? They were born and raised in this war, it’s everything they know. And the dragons? You heard Midgardsormr. They live long enough to remember all of this bloody war… It doesn’t matter anymore who was right in the first place. Neither of them are just going to give up and admit they were wrong. Both sides feel justified in their hate and this will make it difficult to find a peaceful solution…”

For a moment A’viloh was quiet, silently contemplating what Rael had said.

“But what can we do about this at all?”

“I don’t know. But you heard what Thordan said. And if the Ascians are involved behind the scenes, we can’t just ignore this. I have no perfect answer for solving this conflict but neither does Iceheart or Aymeric or anybody else… But we have to try anyway. Maybe together we can find a solution…”

[icewindandboringhorror]

Apparently I can meet my goal of roughly 400,000 words in 6 months if I just somehow write at least 2,200 words a day ghbjh... Almost 2,500 today... huzzah...

[mrdrhenwardhykle]

The common misconception that Dr. Jekyll has a split personality likely comes from the societal disbelief that a rich white philanthropist could do anything bad on his own; thus making the misconception that he basically grew another personality, totally missing the point that the original book intended.

Not only is it misinterpreting the entire character's meaning, but it is also playing into Jekyll's hysteria and metaphors at the end of the book, despite implying multiple times that he is conscious as Hyde and just plays into his own impulses. The whole reason why Jekyll reverted back to Hyde in the end is because that's who he truly was. The Jekyll serum didn't work as well as the Hyde formula, because he was no longer a good person, and didn't need that persona anymore.

So basically, if an adaptation or form of the characters physically splits them, makes it about a moral of splitting good and evil, or even cures Jekyll by getting rid of Hyde, leaving Jekyll pretty much the same as he started; they're missing the point.

[vvitchynerd]

👁️👄👁️

[sheathnknife]

the vampire diaries 8.16 // louise gluck, crossroads

“and damon, like the voiceover tell us, he was worried he would never see stefan again. it was just elena assuring him that there would be peace. that we’ve dealt with this other side of darkness for several seasons, but there’s also light out there and there’s peace, and damon will find it. if you search for it, you will find it. and we wanted to get that last moment to see that [...] damon found it too, and it looked just like his brother.” — kevin williamson

[todayisafridaynight]

cant find my first post where i said this Cause I Absolutely Did Have A First Post But Tumblr's Tagging System Is Ass so im making a new one anyway Still Funny yayoi was like 'daigo's a party animal. absolutely out of control. he's a freak' and then kiryu walks in and this dude's just sooooooooo Not Here. there is no greater vibe than him Not wanting to be there. his maxed out charisma stat accidentally spawned a party around him and now he can't leave because despite him """"being done with people"""" he still has enough social grace and awareness to not tell everyone to piss off and die

[exopelagic]

okay I’m going insane I need to fix my sleep schedule now

[babysoftboyking]

snippet of a wlw samdean fic i don’t think i’m ever going to finish

——

sam’s head turns and then she looks down at where she’s seated, her nose scrunching up like she’s thinking about complaining about the filthiness of the environment (even though they’ve fucked in places filthier than this by a landslide) but deanna shuts her up with a kiss, devouring her whole, trying to cram all of that love and devotion she holds for her down her throat with her tongue. deanna places her hands on either side of sam, pulling back to stare into her eyes and admire her features. it’s not often sam let’s her openly ogle like this and get away with it, so deanna treasures each gas station memory, bottling them all up for when they’re eventually back on the road and sam gets cagey again, doesn’t wanna be touched for more than a few seconds max, something that will either range from two weeks to two months.

sam stares back at her and it makes dean feel vulnerable in a way nobody else ever has, flayed wide open until she’s paper thin and see through, pinned under the scrutiny of her sister’s watchful gaze. sam sees it all; all the filthy, griddy shit she keeps buried deep inside, usually hidden under lock and key but sam knows. has known how to jimmy a lock since she was eleven, and the worst part is she doesn’t even need to pick this one, it just opens right up real easy for her every damn time. dean’s never been so easy for anybody else, so damned predictable and pliant, and it kind of scares her, but she thinks it should also scare her a lot more than it already does, the kind of flippant power sam holds over her with a bat of her eyelashes and a well placed please.

her sister holds a lock and key to all of her secrets, but she’s not so sure she holds the key to all of sam’s, not anymore. there’s a hardness there where there wasn’t before, prepubescent starry eyed sweetness melting away into an impenetrable fortress of bitchitude that requires some secret, matrix level passcode dean doesn’t have anymore just to have a fraction of a decent conversation.

sam’s getting harder and harder to decipher these days, and dean’s not stupid, she’s noticed something brewing for a while; fights with dad have been at an all time high, not to mention sam’s been so on edge lately that dean can barely say hello most mornings without getting hissed at— and she knows sam doesn’t mean it, can see that awful look of regret in her eyes afterwards once they’ve stopped yelling over each other, but neither one of them knows how to stop and ask, dean least of all. so, in situations like these, it’s either fight or fuck, and at this point the fighting is almost like foreplay.

they haven’t fought this time though, just gentle hands and hushed laughter, and that almost hurts more than the bruise sam left on her cheek a few days ago from a sparring match that quickly turned heated.

dean’s brought back to the present by sam cupping her cheek, the look on her face reverent and open, like dean is the most fascinating thing in the world to her as she drags her thumb slowly across her cheek, pressing down ever so slightly once she reaches the purpled mark, the dull ache throbbing intensely under the pressure. it’s a harsh reminder that the serenity they’ve found here in this little rest stop can’t last forever, eventually that feeling will fade too, just like the bruise and the pleasure pull pain of it— nothing stays forever.

((nothing will ever compare, not to this, not to sam.))

dean thinks, maybe that thought holds more weight now more than ever, the feeling of her little sister growing more and more distant, slipping out of her fingers like sand through an hourglass—the fear that one day she’ll wake up and sam won’t be right there next to her— thoughts like those send a spike of gut wrenching anxiety through her chest, tightening around her throat like barbed wire until she has to take two deep breaths just to breathe. she knows sam sees it but doesn’t say anything, hand resting soothingly against her cheek while she waits for dean to regain her footing. once she comes back to herself dean’s grip around sam’s waist tightens unconsciously, hard enough to hurt, and she huffs, a ghost of a laugh before she bats sam’s hand away from her cheek.

sam’s still just silently staring at her, eyes all narrowed the way they get when she’s thinking real hard, so to break the tension dean says, “that hurt, you dick.” but it doesn’t come out quite right like she meant it to, bravado lost and replaced with the impending dread of heartache. from where, dean doesn’t know, but she’s had feelings like this before. she knows that whatever it is, it’s inevitable, an unpreventable force, and she hates it. it’s kind of like how dogs can sense when a storm is silently brewing just by the subtle changes in the air— it’s this horrible, uneasy feeling that weighs on her chest and clogs up her throat, because she knows the storm is going to hit eventually cause the clouds have been kind of gray lately, but she just doesn’t know when or where or how the other shoe is gonna drop and it’s fucking awful. so, so fucking awful not knowing.

sam sighs and finally says, “how many stds do you think we’re gonna get, excluding the ones you already have, if we take our clothes off in here?”

dean snorts, thankful for the derailment, and says, “first of all, fuck you, and second of all, how about we find out?” she waggles her eyebrows, fingers prying gently at the corners of sam’s shirt, no protest made as the teasing caress of her hands explore the expanse of her sister’s beautiful skin, groping and squeezing, but before long tender featherlight touches turn rough, dirt encrusted fingernails digging crescent shaped imprints in to the soft sides of her baby. a carnal need for more gradually surges up from deep within; the intimacy and vulnerability of it all makes dean feel violent, crazed, an urgent need to bite, to claim—she inevitably caves, sliding Sam's shirt up and off of her, tossed haphazardly somewhere behind them on the dirty bathroom floor. sam grumbles slightly, but it doesn’t really matter, they have to stop by the laundromat later anyways. skin exposed, dean bites into the expanse between neck and shoulder, body draped over sam’s as she sucks deep purple welts into her flesh, bites so deeply it stings; she laps up sam’s sweat, the salty taste of her like holy water as she leaves the grooves of her teeth imprinted there, where she belongs. she wishes she could draw blood, sometimes. she wonders if sam would ever let her, if she’d even care.

[rosicheeks]

2, 29, and 53 for the asks :))))

2. what would you name your future kids?

Haven’t thought about this in AGES tbh not sure anymore

29. favourite film(s)

Anastasia , Encanto , Treasure Planet

53. 5 things that make me happy

1. Music 🎶

2. Spending time with loved ones ❤️

3. Apple scented candles

4. Homemade cookies

5. Fuzzy blankies

[sergeantpixie]

I love that we have so many ships in common and both love female characters who many seem not to like - Daphne Bridgerton, Elena Gilbert, Betty Cooper etc. :) I would love to hear why you prefer Barchie to Bughead! Based on what I remember, I preferred Bughead, but my opinion means very little here because I stopped watching around season 3 and have just seen clips of some scenes on youtube :)

Same! It's always exciting to find people who love under-appreciated female characters in particular :)

Actually, you have me beat! I didn't even finish season 1! I think Betty and Jughead had just kissed for the first time in the last episode I watched. But Betty is a character I love so much!

My answer is based more on the comics than the show because of this so I am a Betty/Archie girl all the way. I'm a sucker for a good best friends to lovers arc. But who knows how I'd feel about it if I'd actually watched more of the show!

Thank you for asking!