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blackleatherjacketz · 11 months

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Forbidden Fruit: Chapter 6

Alistair x Female Reader, Jack Russell x Female Reader

Summary: Jack saves you from a vicious vampire attack and you discover you might be more entangled than you thought.

This Chapter: Having no choice but to go along with Alistair, you let him take you underground to prove his devotion to you.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ Only!, Mature Content, Kidnapping, Coercion, Dubious Consent, Dom/Sub Dynamics, Power Imbalance, Undressing, Spanking, petting, Vaginal Fingering, Female Orgasm, Finger Sucking, Jealousy, Victorian Furniture and Tchaikovsky’s “Swan Lake”

Word Count: 3k+

Notes: Revised Completley!

Tags: @skittle479 @bullet-prooflove @jessicafangirl @avatarofseshat @sadndnboii-reads @bluemoonperegrine

Read the rest of the story HERE!

Alistair’s hand squeezes tightly onto yours as you both descend the floors beneath the abandoned pizzeria you didn’t even know were there. A watered down version of Swan Lake’s ‘Moderato’ plays from the aged speakers as your stomach does flips each time he looks at you, despite doing its best to keep down the wine and cheese you just consumed mere moments before. That smirk on his lips brings you back to the first time you met, his thumb grazing the inside of your wrist reminding you that this situation could turn out in your favor if all else fails. If Jack doesn’t show up like he promised and Alistair has his way with you, then those endless eyes could be staring back at you for all of eternity.

Where the hell is Jack, anyways? Didn’t he say he was going to get help? How long was that supposed to take?

A high-pitched ding signals your imminent arrival to his desired floor, startling you with a jolt of your shoulders as the metal box slows to a halt. The doors slide silently open as the music continues, revealing a long hallway with centuries old wallpaper and crystal chandeliers dimly lighting the way to a large red door at the very end.

“I just can’t wait for you to see the surprise I have for you.” He tugs on your hand before stepping across the threshold, pulling you out of the world above and into the world below. Into the very belly of the beast. Each step he takes echoes loudly against the ancient walls, almost an exact replica of the house you visited him in before, only without the haunting portraits and landscapes to stare you down.

Half a dozen blackened doorways on either side of you take their place however, seeming to stretch upward in length as you cautiously try to match his stride. His grip on your hand only tightens as you blink repeatedly, trying to make sense of the stretching hallway until he deftly slows his pace. Curling his wrist inward, he reigns you in before deciding to stop in front of the last door on the right.

Taking a key out of his jacket pocket, he slides it into the aged brass doorknob and turns it with delicate ease. He pushes it open to reveal a large bedroom furnished with expensive Victorian furniture, a warm fire popping in the opposite wall behind a wrought iron cage. It warms your face as you enter the doorway, noticing a queen bed tucked in the right corner, four posts made of solid dark walnut draped with emerald green velvet as he leads you into the middle of the space.

The classical music begins to soften as you follow him into the room, fading away until you can no longer hear it at all. The sound of the crackling fire soon takes over, soothing you enough to run your hands over the thick, heavy comforter that lays across the luxurious bed. Your fingertips trace their way up the blanket to the matching sets of pillows embroidered with your initials, etched with golden silk tassels dangling at the corners. A dark bedside table holds a small electric lamp, matching the wood on the rounded corners of a crushed velvet settee sitting near the fire.

“What do you think?” He asks, watching you take inventory of every outfit he’d bought for you in the wardrobe next to the setee.

“It’s beautiful,” you admit, the warmth of the fire and the smell of the wood all but intoxicating you as you take in the extraordinary details of the bedroom. You can’t believe it: it’s as if he’s seen every page you’ve ever collected from your mother’s old Home and Gardens magazine and matched them exactly. No one’s ever done that before, ever taken so much care and effort to give you everything… anything you’ve ever wanted without having to ask or make it seem like a chore.

“I know how much you love that shade of green.” He stands in the middle of the room as you gingerly circle around him, smirking as your expression gives away your enraptured state of mind.

“I do.” You spot a dress of the same color hanging on the vanity as you nearly make it all the way back to the door. Its silk fabric seems to practically drip down from the hanger over the darkened wood of the mirror that shows only your reflection, the vibrant waves cascading over the table and down onto the floor. “Is that dress for me?”

“It’s all for you,” he steps behind you and whispers into your ear, his scent of oak and cinnamon slowly emanating into your nostrils. “Every bit of it.”

You can’t help but hold your breath as he gets closer to you, his hand holding onto your hip as you both stare at the lavish ball gown in stoic silence. Is this supposed to be the last dress you ever wear now that he’s made sure you’ve eaten your last meal? The dress that he bites you in, drains you in? The dress that you die in? Your final burial shroud? All of the sudden, your semi-flippant attitude toward his plans for you begins to crumble, the gravity of your situation now settling into your stomach in a weighty sense of impending doom. You start to wonder when you last called your parents or told them that you loved them, knowing full well that it’s far too late for any of that now.

“Wh… what’s behind the other doors that we passed in the hallway? More rooms like this?” You turn your head to face him, your nose barely brushing against his chin.

Were there other women just like you behind those doors? Each of them locked away into their own beautiful rooms just to be preyed upon at his leisure? If so, how many of them were there? How long had they been there? How many times has he fed on them? Would he ever let them go? Would he ever let you go now that you’re down here?

“Now, now,” he tsks. “You shouldn’t ask questions you don’t want to know the answers to.” He wraps his hand around the back of your neck before pressing his fingertips into the base of your hairline, massaging your scalp all the way up to your crown. “Why don’t you forget all about that and step out of this ragged little number for me?”

He presses his thumb and forefinger behind your ears, forcing your eyes to flutter shut and your mouth to fall open as that warm, blissful feeling rushes down your spine. He takes the opportunity to snake his fingers down your neck to swiftly remove your bandage before tossing it aside, temporarily washing your worries away with his actions. He takes his time pulling your hooded sweatshirt up above your head and off; the heat from the fire warming the bare skin on your torso as you allow him to continue disrobing you. His chilly palms carefully brush their way back down your arms and breasts, tying a familiar knot into your stomach before they graze their way down to your hips.

“Your beauty never ceases to amaze me,” he kisses his praise into your shoulder as he starts taking your pants off, delicately sliding them down your legs until you step out of them entirely. “Aphrodite herself would be jealous.”

You try to think of something to say, something to match his level of adoration as he stands up and curls his fingers beneath your jaw, but can come up with nothing. Instead you just nod in hushed understanding, acknowledging his tainted compliment as he stares at you through his frigid grip on your face.

“Before you put that on, though, why don’t you let me show you how well I really know you.” He lets go of your chin and shrugs out of his jacket, folding it onto the back of the chair near the vanity. He loosens his tie with a smirk and makes his way over to the bed, pulling the silk garment through the loop of his collar as he finally sits down on the mattress.

Jesus Christ, this escalated quickly. How the hell did you end up HERE like THIS? How the hell did he get you naked again so fucking fast?

“Come here,” he orders, slowly patting his thigh as he summons you with blackened eyes.

Oh, that’s how.

“Yeah,” you huff, taking a few timid steps forward. “Okay.” You pad your way across the hardwood floor until you end up climbing onto the bed next to him, cautiously straddling his legs as his hands glide over your bare body, effortlessly pulling you into him.

“I know you better than he does, better than he ever could.” He gently turns you on to your side, guiding you over his lap so that his hands smooth lovingly over your head and hair once you settle into him. “I know every inch of your body, every hair on your head…” He tucks a strand of it behind your ear, tracing the outline of its shell before following the curvature of your spine down to your lower back with his fingertips. He grazes his palm up and down your back, increasing his pressure on your muscles every time, forcing the fine hair along its path to stand on end. “I know every expression on your beautiful face, and every nuanced tone in your voice.”

“Yeah?” Is all you can think to say as he continues caressing your back, almost as if you were a sort of pet curled up in his lap after a long day.

“Does this feel familiar, darling? He asks, grabbing onto one of your cheeks and pulling it up toward him to get a better view of what he’s after.

You nod as his chilly hand tightens its grip on you, forcing you to inhale quickly as you feel him grow beneath your belly.

“What was that?” He begs for clarity, his lips pressed against your scalp as his breath warms your skin.

“Yes,” you whisper as your nipples harden against the mattress, everything about your past with him becoming crystal clear as the moisture begins to grow between your legs.

“Good.” He kisses your hair and lets your muscle bounce back into place. “It sounds like you almost forgot your words there for a moment.” He wastes no time in sliding his fingers in between your cheeks, dipping them down low enough to glide across your folds as they suddenly become slick with your inevitable arousal.

“Yes,” you moan, the pads of his fingers brushing over your clit with each torturous pass, your body keeping the score as it instinctively responds to his extensive carnal knowledge. “I mean no, I mean ohhhh my God.”

“Only I know what you really like.” He pulls his hand away before bringing it back down with a loud and sudden smack, a sharp twinge jolting your body forward. “What you need.”

A stifled yelp leaves your lips as the pain shoots its way up your spine, the brief pause quickly interrupted by another hard smack, this time to the opposite cheek. You hear him chuckle before his hand comes crashing down onto the other, repeating this relentless pattern one right after the other, hit after hit as it nearly sends you leaping forward off his lap entirely. He manages to keep you still with a hand on your throat, his nose nestled into the base of your neck as your moans morph into guttural groans. Tears well up in your eyes as the pleasure he’s delivering barely outweighs the pain that settles deep into your muscles, his abuse forcing your sex to drip down onto the polyester fabric of his his thigh. His strikes gradually become less frequent, the break between them growing longer as he finally decides to rub his palm over your newly reddened flesh in order to soothe it.

“Now, let’s see if I’m right.” He whispers against your skin, sliding his fingers between your now soaking wet folds as your juices all but drench your needy center. He glides them across your length again with impeccable ease, massaging little waves of bliss into your swollen bud as you begin to tremble beneath his touch. “Looks like I was. Always so wet for me.”

You rock back and forth against his hand as a pattern of gooseflesh ripples up your backside, causing those waves to build up into full blown tremors of ecstasy. They quake through your entire body as he pushes two fingers in, stimulating you from that special spot deep inside your velvety walls as his thumb still presses circles into your clit. He cracks that internal fault line wide open, watching the tears stream down your face as your body convulses around his fingers in a series of uncontrollable shockwaves of euphoria, one right after the other. They rush their way through you, building up from your epicenter with a groan so deep it nearly rattles his bones along with yours as they tremble in its wake.

“Alistair!” You shout, your arms and legs trembling in overstimulation as the sound of his fingers slipping in and out of you echoes loudly against the walls. “Alistair, oh my God!” Your last word comes out in a breathy moan as your muscles fail you, leaving you limp in his lap as the aftershock rocks its way through your system.

“I barely even touched you, and look how well you respond to me.” He pulls his now drenched fingers out of you, bringing them up between your cheeks, across your back and over your shoulder until they’re right in front of your face. “Open.”

You follow his orders and do as you're told, opening your mouth just enough for him to shove two fingers past your lips and across your tongue. There’s no denying the sweet tang of your orgasm that coats your juices still clinging to his digits as he pushes in all the way up to his knuckles. Even as your eyes begin to water, you can’t help but relish in the taste of your own satisfaction as your tremors slow to a complete halt. You run your tongue between his fingers to further savor the flavor until he reluctantly pulls them back out.

A single trail of spit connects you before he shoves them into his own mouth, those dark eyes of his rolling back into his head as the concoction of your fluids momentarily intoxicates him. For a split second, some deranged part of you wonders how good he might have looked when he first tasted your blood, if it was anything close to this or much more gratuitous. But before you know it, he’s out of his trance entirely, his hands roving back over your body in a soothing, gentle rhythm.

“Tell me I don’t know you now.” He leans down to kiss your lips, the embrace seeming almost chaste in comparison as your unique flavor gets passed back between you both.

“You know me,” you confirm, breaking the kiss with a gentle nod.

“Good.” He pets your hair one more time, leaning in just enough to rest his forehead against yours. “I have another surprise for you.” He insists, that Cheshire grin spreading across his lips again.

Alistair helps you into the green ball gown just as carefully as he helped you out of your sweats, his hands tucking you into every nook and cranny of the silk dress as it drapes over your frame. He runs his hands through your hair after zipping you up, cupping your face before smiling with an arrogant sense of pride, almost as if he had created you himself.

“You look absolutely breathtaking, little lamb.” He soberly kisses your cheek before stepping back to admire you in full. “Are you ready for your next surprise?”

“I am,” you tell him, trying to accept that it could be the very last surprise of your life.

The instrumental ballet starts up again as soon as you leave the room with him, growing in volume through a set of speakers you can’t quite seem to locate as you both approach the ominous red door at the end of the hallway you almost forgot about entirely. The song’s previous corporate elevator tones are effortlessly replaced by a symphony of clarinets and bassoons, building onto each other as the plucking of a harp notes every step you take toward the precipice of the doorway.

You watch Alistair raise his eyebrows in giddy anticipation as an assortment of violins showers your senses with their chorus, the tone of the song getting darker and more profound as he wraps his fingers around the handle of the door. You can feel the music inside of you just as sure as you felt him before, the build up of all the instruments now working together as French horns collide with trumpets and drums, pushing the potent emotion of the piece up into your core and out of your body through tiny little goosebumps on your skin.

The red door finally opens.

The devastating sight before you dispels any enchantment Tchaikovsky’s famous work previously had on your senses. The roaring climax of that chilling act fails to prickle its way through the tiny hairs on the top layer of your skin as your heart drops into the bitter acid of your stomach, threatening to bring up your last meal along with it. That harsh and undeniable truth that you’d somehow always feared in the back of your mind has finally come to fruition: Jack isn’t coming to save you.

He can’t.

Confirming your greatest fears, Jack’s wrists and ankles appear to be secured in chains before your very eyes, holding him captive against a cement wall, the shirt you let him borrow now tattered to shreds. Something about these restraints is preventing him from moving too much or trying to escape, his helpless eyes eventually landing on you once you reach the center of the room. You’re too late. He’s too late, unable to save you from this scheming creature of the night as you both share a long look of mutual despair.

“Surprise!” Alistair exclaims as the music fades off into silence, both hands spreading out in a dramatic fashion.

#jack russell #werewolf by night #david dastmalchian #gael garcía bernal #gael garcia bernal #jack russell x reader #jack russell x you #werewolf by night fan fiction #alistair x reader #david dastmalchian x reader #david dastmalchian fan fiction

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howlingday · 10 months

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RWBY GIF SEARCH:

Cardin Winchester:

Russel Thrush:

Dove Bronzewing:

Sky Lark:

Coco Adel:

Fox Alistair:

Velvet Scarlatina:

Yastuhashi Daichi:

Glynda Goodwitch:

Ozpin:

(Based on GIF search first result for each name)

#rwby #cardin winchester #russel thrush #dove bronzewing #sky lark #coco adel #fox alistair #velvet scarlatina #yatsuhashi daichi #glynda goodwitch #ozpin

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rithion · 1 year

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"CRIMSON ROVERS"

Episode 4 Part 1

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I’ve been blessed with the talent of a friend’s voice acting for this one! Thanks again Mike!! <33 Go check him on twitter : https://twitter.com/MikeIsWhat

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Crimson Rovers master thread : https://rithion.tumblr.com/post/704884646703513600/crimson-rovers-ep-1-rovers-part1 “A series of bad decisions leads Alistair to travel the seas aboard the Crimson Rover, alongside it's captain Russel Smith. One is a lone and smug rogue used to care for none but himself, the other is a cranky and scheming pirate with the responsability of a whole crew. They learn to get along, for the sake of their quests for riches.”

#crimson rovers #pirates #animatic #russel #alistair

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cigiiit · 1 year

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Drew some pirates !!!

#pirate #pirates #ocs #raph's oc #russel #alistair #tristan #wyatt #dont look at Alistair's hand drawn backward......

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ryanlockheart · 10 months

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the second that alistair russell received the phone call, everything stopped. ozzie had been his lifeline for so long. they'd built up a plan to create a life together, to find away to escape from their shithole neighborhood. he'd expected ozzie to be his roommate, his boyfriend, his soulmate forever. truthfully, alistair still thought that sometimes. ozzie was the one for him, he knew it in the bottom of his heart. it was no wonder why he'd fled the quiet massachussetts town to go back to his hometown when he'd gotten the call that ozzie was in the hospital. the whole flight back, alistair had been wrought with nerves. he swore he might throw up a few times, out of worry for his once boyfriend. ozzie's parents knew how much he cared, knew he'd want to be there when ozzie woke up. when his flight landed, alistair was headed straight to the hospital. no formalities, nothing, just bag towed in hand. everything felt like a foggy blur, like everything had happened simultaneously in fast forward and reverse. ozzie's parents gave him the updates they had, which weren't many. ozzie had overdosed — on what they didn't know primarily, they didn't know where he'd even gotten what he'd taken. this wasn't the boy he'd known all those years ago, and alistair's heart was breaking. call him pathetic for still pining after a boy who quite literally had ghosted him... but he didn't care. he had a glimmer of hope that that boy was still in there somewhere. alistair just tugged his navy blue hoodie tight and entered the boy's hospital room. the faint beep of his heart filled the silence in the room. he wondered what the reaction would be when ozzie awoke... would he want alistair to touch him? would everything be like old times' sake? would alistair ever get the closure he deserved? the raven-haired male crept up to the edge of his bed, taking a seat in one of the pleather chairs beside his hospital bed. a few minutes latter, and he noticed the other boy stirring. "ozzie? are you awake?" alistair questioned. "it's me... al. your parents called me here. c-an you tell me what's going on?" he questioned softly. he didn't want to hound him, but he did want to get to the bottom of it all. whatever it was, alistair just wanted to make sure that it never happened again — even if he had to see to it personally. "everything's gonna be okay now, i promise."

#kitbogart #🧵 thread: alistair russell.#🧵 thread: alistair & ozzie.

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ianchisnall · 7 months

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A review of the close of Parliament for Conferences

This week is the beginning of the Party-Political annual Conferences so there will not be any formal Parliament until the second half of the October. The first Party holding its annual conference is the Liberal Democrats in Bournemouth which began on Saturday 23rd September finishing tomorrow. Sunday the 1st October will see the opening of the Conservative conference in Manchester ending on…

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#Alistair Carmichael #Caroline Lucas #e-petition #George Howarth #Glyn Saville #Lloyd Russell-Moyle #Paul Blomfield #Peter Bottomley

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thedoctorwhocompanion · 2 years

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The Hiraeth Embrace Brings Lethbridge-Stewart's Brendon Years to a (Temporary) End

The Hiraeth Embrace From @Candy_Jar Brings Lethbridge-Stewart's Brendon Years to a (Temporary) End

Candy Jar Books’ The Hiraeth Embrace is the third and final book in the Brendon Years trilogy of Lethbridge-Stewart novels. This is the second novel from James Middleditch, who previously wrote short stories for several HAVOC Files volumes, and had a story in the recent UNIT short story collection. In 2021 he had his first novel published, The Overseers, and The Hiraeth Embrace is a direct…

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#Andy Frankham-Allen #Brigadier Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart #Intelligence Taskforce #James Middleditch #Lethbridge-Stewart #Paul Cooke #Shaun Russell #The Cruel Snow #The Hiraeth Embrace #The Overseers #UNIT #United Nations

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silverfoxstole · 11 months

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Recording the first Eighth Doctor audios, way back in 2000.

#the last three are new to me #stumbled across them the other day #not sure the the presence of the cricket bat has ever been explained #paul mcgann #india fisher #nicholas courtney #gareth thomas #jason haigh-ellery #gary russell #nicholas briggs #doctor who #8th doctor #eighth doctor #charley pollard #brigadier alistair gordon lethbridge stewart #big finish #mcgann monday #this post just kept growing after i found more pics

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pers-books · 5 months

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WARNING: Contains SPOILERS for Doctor Who - "The Giggle."

SUMMARY

Doctor Who's final 60th anniversary special sets up a potential spinoff show featuring UNIT on Disney+.

The new UNIT team in "The Giggle" showcases a strong camaraderie and dynamic, laying the groundwork for future appearances and a possible spinoff.

The introduction of the Vlinx, a new robot working for UNIT, hints at potential backstory and teases a potential UNIT show on Disney+.

Doctor Who's final 60th anniversary special, "The Giggle" has set up the rumored UNIT spinoff show on Disney+ in multiple ways. Now installed in a flashy new skyscraper in central London, UNIT recall the Fourteenth Doctor (David Tennant) to help them stop the world from going mad. Although the main draw of "The Giggle" is the battle between the Doctor and the Toymaker (Neil Patrick Harris), there's a sense that it's setting up a future UNIT spinoff. Doctor Who spinoffs on Disney+ have been heavily rumored since the co-production deal was announced. The new Whoniverse title also implies that Doctor Who will have its own expansive fictional universe.

Doctor Who's rumored UNIT spinoff would be led by Jemma Redgrave's Kate Stewart, the daughter of Brigadier Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart (Nicholas Courtney). Following on from the reveal in "The Power of the Doctor" that UNIT hires former Doctor Who companions as freelancers, it's expected that some classic series actors will reprise their roles. "The Giggle" outlines the structure of the new UNIT, which gives the sense of Doctor Who's final 60th anniversary special being a backdoor pilot for a new spinoff.

8 UNIT's Brand New Headquarters

It looks a lot like the Avengers Tower.

Doctor Who's UNIT have never had the best of luck with their HQs in the modern series. Their New York HQ and the Valiant were devastated by the Daleks in "The Stolen Earth", their presidential plane was blown up by Zygons in "The Zygon Invasion", and their brand-new building was blown up by Tegan Jovanka (Jane Fielding) in "The Power of the Doctor." The biggest surprise of "The Giggle" is that the UNIT skyscraper largely remains standing after their confrontation with the Toymaker. Giving UNIT a permanent base of operations does feel like a way to establish the Doctor Who spinoff show's primary location.

7 The Dynamic Between The New UNIT Team

Doctor Who's new UNIT work brilliantly together.

In the 1970s, Doctor Who had the UNIT family, so-called because of the warm relationships between the Third Doctor (Jon Pertwee), his companions and the UNIT team. There's a sense of this camaraderie in "The Giggle", with Shirley Anne Bingham (Ruth Madeley) quickly forgiving Kate for her ableist abuse while under the influence of the Toymaker. This is clearly a team that trusts each other implicitly, much like the UNIT team of old. A strong central team structure is a strong foundation for their future appearances in Doctor Who, but it also guarantees good grounding for a spinoff show.

6 The Vlinx

What's going on with UNIT's new robot?

The Vlinx (Nicholas Briggs) feels like the most obvious bit of set up for Doctor Who's UNIT spinoff. There must be many stories to tell about how the Vlinx came to Earth and began working for UNIT. They appear to be a robotic version of James Bond's Q, providing UNIT with gadgets and technology to meet alien threats. The Vlinx invented the Zeedex that shielded UNIT from the effects of "The Giggle", and would presumably fulfill a similar purpose in future appearances. Doctor Who's new robot also draws comparisons with Mr. Smith (Alexander Armstrong) from Russell T Davies' previous spinoff show, The Sarah Jane Adventures, further teasing a potential UNIT show.

5 The Galvanic Beam

UNIT is sufficiently tooled up to fight alien threats.

The galvanic beam that triggered Doctor Who's first bi-generation is more evidence of the substantial tools that UNIT have at their disposal. Way back in David Tennant's first-ever episode, "The Christmas Invasion", the Torchwood Institute had a similarly powerful weapon trained on the Sycorax spaceship. The reveals about Torchwood recurred throughout David Tennant's first Doctor Who season, culminating in their introduction in the season 2 finale and the eventual John Barrowman-led spinoff. It's possible that the galvanic beam is a subtle callback, with future UNIT episodes in Ncuti Gatwa's era eventually paving the way for a full series order for a UNIT spinoff on Disney+.

4 UNIT Offers Donna A Job

Could Catherine Tate come back in a spinoff show?

Donna brilliantly figures out that the brain signal resembles a tune, eventually inspiring the Doctor to recognize that it's the giggle of Stooky Bill stored in broadcast signals. The super temp from Chiswick impresses Kate Stewart so much that she offers Donna a job with a generous pay package and benefits. Donna doesn't explicitly accept the job on-screen, but the money will give her cash-strapped family the chance to relax more. Interestingly, Yasmin Finney is said to return for Ncuti Gatwa's first season of Doctor Who, perhaps interning for UNIT. If Donna's daughter is still in the new era of Doctor Who, then it's easy enough for her to pop up in a UNIT spinoff in a special guest role.

3 Doctor Who's Mel Now Works For UNIT

The 1980s companion will be back next season, too.

Kate Stewart fulfilled her promise to the Doctor Who companion support group by hiring Mel as a computer expert for UNIT. If Russell T Davies is repeating some of his past glories, he could do a lot worse than put Bonnie Langford front and center in her own show. That's what he did with Elisabeth Sladen and The Sarah Jane Adventures in 2006, so it would make a lot of sense to do the same with Langford. While Mel was a divisive Doctor Who companion, Bonnie Langford is an excellent actress with a big public profile thanks to her West End and Broadway experience. There could be nobody better to lead the UNIT spinoff alongside Jemma Redgrave.

2 UNIT Are Hiring Former Doctor Who Companions

It's not just Donna and Mel.

While executive producing The Sarah Jane Adventures, Russell T Davies brought back both the Brigadier and Jo Grant (Katy Manning). He also planned to bring back Sophie Aldred as Ace, had Elisabeth Sladen not sadly passed away before filming on season 5 completed. RTD clearly doesn't want to crowd the new show with old faces, and that's the right decision as Ncuti Gatwa's Doctor Who is being billed as a fresh start. However, with Mel, Tegan, Ace, and potentially Donna Noble on the payroll, there's a real possibility that other classic Doctor Who companions will be brought into a UNIT spinoff show to provide their own unique expertise.

1 UNIT Has An Earthbound Doctor Again

David Tennant's 14th Doctor remains on Earth.

50 years after the Third Doctor's exile to Earth ended, the Fourteenth Doctor's is just beginning. While this is a self-imposed exile designed to give the Doctor time to rest, reflect, and enjoy a normal life, UNIT will be reassured to know they've got him on speed dial. Russell T Davies making the decision to keep around David Tennant after Doctor Who feels like a calculated move to bring back the Fourteenth Doctor when the story demands it. Having the retired Fourteenth Doctor occasionally feature as an advisory figure in the new UNIT spinoff could provide an interesting new spin on Doctor Who tropes that wouldn't undermine his heartwarming happy ending.

#Doctor Who #UNIT #News and Speculation #Kate Stewart #Donna Noble #Melanie Bush #TenTooMany #Fourteenth Doctor

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jay5464 · 3 months

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I have updated the first two chapters of RWBY: The Lost Kingdom. I hope you guys enjoy it!

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blackleatherjacketz · 11 months

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Forbidden Fruit: Chapter 5

Alistair x Female Reader

Summary: Jack saves you from a vicious vampire attack and you discover you might be more entangled than you thought.

This Chapter: Alistair pleads his case to you over a candlelit dinner.

Warnings: NSFW, Mature Content, Dom/Sub Dynamics, Hair Pulling, Kissing, Bondage, Mentions of Sex and Cunnilingus, Kidnapping, Coercion, Jealousy, Manipulation, Gaslighting, Alcohol, Vampirism

Word Count: 2.4k+

Tags: @skittle479 @acutecupidity @bullet-prooflove @sadndnboii-reads @avatarofseshat

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Time seems to stand still as street lamps blur into traffic lights, whizzing by in a dull electric hum as you try your best to memorize the route your captor is taking you down. The other armed men in the car refuse to look at you or answer any of your questions as they drive you down a confusing combination of streets and alleyways until they reach their final destination. An old Italian restaurant on the outskirts of town stands alone in the middle of a parking lot, its weathered exterior falling apart in decrepit disarray as the black SUV comes to a complete stop.

One of the men rips off your rosary before forcing you out onto the pavement, the barrel of his gun pressing cold between your shoulder blades as you step over potholes and tufts of grass to get closer to the building. You can only imagine what lay ahead, your mind racing through every horrific scenario possible as you keep your eyes peeled for any shards of glass that might pierce your bare feet. You try your best to control your breathing, already jumping to the worst case scenario of Jack being dead or bleeding inside as the building seems to grow in height as you approach it. Only once you walk through those doors, you don’t find him tied to a chair or hanging from a meat hook in the freezer like you had feared. Instead all you find is Alistair, clean and confident as the first day you’d met him, dressed to the nines.

“You almost got away from me there, little lamb,” he breaks the deafening silence, proudly sitting at the head of a table in the middle of the deserted restaurant. It’s decorated with candles of varying length, each of their flames reaching toward the ceiling as their golden white hue reflects off his iridescent skin. His eyes remain cold and dark, hungrily scouring over you as the man who brought you here obediently steps away, holstering his weapon with a wave of Alistair’s hand. “Gave me quite the scare.”

“Where’s Jack?” You ask, noticing the other large men guarding every exit of the desolate dining room. You’re just now beginning to fully realize that you’re in way over your head; the news of your relationship with Jack and his Lycan nature paling in comparison to the stakes you’re being presented with at this very moment.

“Where’s Jack?” He repeats mockingly, picking up the bottle of wine in front of him and pouring it into the empty glass closest to you. “You know, you look a little paler than usual. You must be famished from all that running around you’ve been doing behind my back, and now all you can ask me is ‘where’s Jack’?” He fills the cup up to the brim, the scarlet liquid spilling over the sides and racing down the stem before he sets the bottle back down beside him. “You’re beginning to sound ungrateful.” His eyes lock onto yours with that last word, pulling you in like they had so many times before. “We wouldn’t want that, now would we?”

“No.” You mutter as you weigh the pros and cons of stalling, running, or putting up any semblance of a fight before realizing that it would be all in vain. You know now that you wouldn’t make it ten steps to the door without a bullet in your back or his teeth in your neck, so you decide that your best bet is to play along. “We wouldn’t.”

“Good!” He exclaims, pushing the glass closer to you with a grin. “Now that we’re on the same page, why don’t you have a drink with me and maybe we can talk about Jack after you’ve eaten.”

You sit down hesitantly at his table, scooting your chair close enough to see the light blue veins highlighted by the flickering flames of the candles as they slither their way up his face and hands. More vibrant than you remember from before, they almost seem to glow in this hazy dreamlike ambiance as he nods toward your plate, urging you again to partake.

You recognize this meal from the night before, this exact table setting, now that you think about it. It’s almost as if he had replicated it piece by piece from the smallest details of the brand of wine to the very type of meats, fruits and cheeses stacked onto your plate. You can only speculate that he must want you to consume these specific things in order for their flavors to start coursing through your veins by the time he eventually drinks from you again.

Your last meal.

“To us,” he toasts with a raise of his own glass, the pewter goblet disguising its contents as he patiently waits for you to follow suit. He pauses as you reluctantly pick up your flute, watching the remnants of the fermented drink drip down your fingers and wrist as you carefully bring it up to his level.

“To us,” you repeat, your dry lips trembling with your expanding knowledge of him before the Merlot splashes over your tongue and down your throat.

“How does it taste?” His elbows practically creak against the old wood beneath the velvet tablecloth as his lips slowly part, mirroring yours to mimic the act of your consumption.

“Good,” you admit, taking another sip before setting the glass down as it stains a purple ring onto your napkin. If you’re going to be stuck here in this situation, you might as well take in a little liquid courage in the process.

“I would certainly hope so,” his smile widens as he leans in even closer to you, stirring up your complicated attraction to him. “I know how much you like it.”

“I want to say thank you,” you pause, taking yet another sip of the dry wine as it warms your body from the inside out, tingling its way into your extremities.

You can feel your desire for him grow with each subsequent drink you take, his sharp features more pleasing to the eye as they remind you of what brought you into his bedroom to begin with. It would be easy enough to fall under his spell again, and nearly impossible for you to tell if you haven’t already been entranced once he opened his mouth, but you force yourself to stay on track.

“But why did you bring me here? Why are you doing all of this?” Your questions are cut short as the space between you begins to shrink, your heart racing as he bends forward across the tabletop.

“Did our time together mean nothing to you?” His eyes dart over your face and neck, lingering on your pulse for a minute before he looks back into your eyes. “The feelings we shared, the breakthroughs we had?” His voice becomes shaky as his cold, slender fingers brush over your knuckles. “I know it meant something to me.”

The dense fog that surrounded your recent memories finally lifts as soon as he touches you, completely clearing the way for you to look back on them with ‘sober’ objectivity. Images of his mouth between your thighs, your hands in his hair and his name on your lips start piecing the whole picture back together into one deviantly cognizant mosaic. You recall every sensation he’d put you through, a tantalizing mixture of pleasure, patience and pain; leather and chains holding you back as you allowed him access to the most elusive parts of you. Ecstasy beyond your wildest dreams had ripped its way through your core, forcing your arms and legs to pull on the elaborate restraints tying you down, all under seemingly safe and voluntary conditions.

You look up at him from across your macabre candlelit dinner, these carnal truths visibly floating to the very top of your consciousness like algae on the surface, clearing the murky waters of your mind as he continues to touch you.

“There it is.” He leans back in his chair, smirking victoriously as he removes his hand from yours. “You know, from the very first second I saw you, I knew exactly what I wanted from you.” He stands up, casually waltzing in a circle around the table before stopping just behind you. “And you knew exactly what you needed from me.” He places his hands onto your shoulders, taking his time to massage your aching muscles before bending down to whisper into your ear. “What you deserved.”

“And what is that?” It takes everything you have not to turn your head, not to give in to the spine tingling sensation his lips feather into your skin.

“Freedom,” he answers, weaving his fingers up into your hairline. “From all the shame and fear that surrounds your generation’s archaic ideals of pleasure.” He grabs onto your locks, tugging downward so your chin juts toward the ceiling as he practically kisses his next words into the delicate skin of your jawline. “Freedom from abandonment and doubt, from the everyday monotony of this pathetic mortal realm.”

“Then why did you make me forget?” You manage to ask even though your breath stifles, his tightening grip on you bringing your body to very the brink of excitement.

“Oh, I’m pretty sure it’s all coming back to you by now.” He smooths his other hand loosely around your neck, his thumb brushing over your bite mark in an almost loving manner.

“Not about us.” You swallow against his palm as it encases your throat, your body’s arousal response battling against its own fight or flight instinct. “Why did you make me forget about Jack?”

He immediately lets go of your hair at the mention of his name, quickly pulling away from you. “You don’t need my help forgetting about someone who’s hardly ever there in the first place, now do you?” He straightens his posture, slowly walking across the room toward the closest boarded up window. “Someone who can easily let weeks go by without hearing your voice, seeing your face, or touching your skin? Without so much as a word exchanged between you two? Where do you think your beloved Jack is right now, huh? Running away, again?”

“He said that he called me, that he texted, that he tried to tell me where he was, but he…”

“And you believed him?!” He cuts you off, his tone suddenly sharp and hectic as madness paints the entire width of his eyes completely black. The veins in his face seem to fill with blood, a deep purple against his pallid complexion before receding again back to their usual azure tone. “I would never do that to you!” He advances on you again, pointing toward his own chest to further prove the weight of his words as he bares his teeth. “I would never abandon or forget you, never let your needs go unmet while your mind races to wonder where I could be or what I could be doing.”

You stare at him, silent, as the seesaw of fear and attraction he always manages to balance on nearly tips the scales into sheer terror. He’s never shown you this side of him before, at least not that you can recall, his demeanor always practiced into a feigned display of being cool, calm and collected even in your fits of passion. You wonder how much of your time together was performative, how much work he’d put into becoming what he thought you wanted.

“No matter,” he takes a moment to calm himself down, bringing the whites back into the rims of his eyes. “I can see that you’re going to make this more difficult than necessary.” He pauses and walks back over to you, taking the arms of your chair and turning you to face him before getting onto his knees. “Do you really think someone like him can give you what you want?”

“I don’t know,” you whisper, his hands on your knees barely keeping them still as they shake in anticipation of whatever torrid emotion might strike him next.

“Eternal devotion.” He offers, tears miraculously filling in his eyes as his chin begins to quiver. “Can you even imagine it my love? An eternity together…” He cups your cheek as he studies your features, his concoction of sorrow and anger pooling at the bottom of his eyelids until they start to stream down his face. “Someone like Jack can’t even give you a full week of his time, but I can give you so much more than that. I can protect and provide for you until the end of time, give you anything you could ever want. I would steal for you, lie for you… kill for you, my darling.”

Even though he addresses you directly as he caresses your face, he seems to be looking past you somehow. His desperate gaze gives you the hollow, sinking feeling that he’s merely using you as nothing more than a vessel, as if he’s almost looking right through you. As impossible as it is to predict what he’s capable of in this state, you do what you’ve always done in dangerous situations: you fawn.

“Okay,” you nod, agreeing to whatever plan he has set up for you while still holding out hope that Jack is on his way.

“Okay?” He smiles, nearly pinching your cheek as the tears drip off his face and splash onto your lap. “I’m so happy to hear you say that,” his tone changes again, the sadness in his expression disappearing as soon as it had come on. “Now eat up, you’re going to need your strength.”

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