#it truly makes me feel like I’m not doing enough

[urdreamydoodles]

Hello!!! I just found your page and yes I already I love your work!!

If it’s no trouble, may I ask for X-men characters with a Pregnant s/o headcanons? Like how they would be when you tell them you’re pregnant, how they are when you’re pregnant, and how they’d be during labor! 😵‍💫😵‍💫

Could I also ask it be with: Logan, Scott, Gambit, Ororo, Colossus, and Kurt??

If not it’s totally okay! Have a great rest of your day 💖💖

X-Men x Pregnant!Reader

How they handle your pregnancy

Each X-Man reacts differently to your pregnancy, from initial surprise and joy to unwavering support during labor, reflecting their unique personalities and love for you.

Characters: Logan Howlett, Remy LeBeau, Scott Summers, Ororo Munroe, Kurt Wagner, Colossus (+ my personal addition : Erik Lehnsherr, Wade Wilson, Wanda Maximoff & Pietro Maximoff)

Thank you for saying that, hearing that my work is liked makes me really happy, thank you ♡ And it's not a trouble at all — love the prompt! — Love, Marie, your friendly marvel fangirl

Logan Howlett (Wolverine)

When you tell Logan you’re pregnant, his initial reaction is a mix of shock and silence. For a moment, he’s frozen in place, his gruff exterior cracking just enough to reveal how truly taken aback he is by the news. He’s been through so much, lost so many people, and had so many regrets in his life that the thought of bringing a child into this world overwhelms him. But after a long, quiet moment, his eyes soften, and he gently places a hand on your stomach, the roughness of his calloused palm contrasting with the tenderness in his gesture. His voice, usually gruff and low, is quiet when he says, "I’ll protect both of ya… no matter what."

During your pregnancy, Logan becomes fiercely protective. He’s always been the protective type, but now it’s ramped up to an entirely different level. He doesn’t let you do anything that might risk your health or the baby’s, even if it’s something small like lifting a grocery bag. He makes sure you’re comfortable, constantly checking in with you—though he tries to act like he’s not worried. You often catch him watching you, eyes filled with a mix of awe and uncertainty. He tries not to hover, but you can see how much he cares. The moment you’re uncomfortable, he’s there, ready to do anything to help. His biggest fear, though he never outright says it, is that something will happen to you or the baby, so he keeps an almost obsessive eye on both of your well-being.

When labor begins, Logan is a mess of emotions. He’s usually the calm in any storm, but seeing you in pain makes him feel helpless in a way he’s not used to. He holds your hand, trying to keep you calm, though his own heart races. "I’m here, darlin’. You’re strong. You got this," he murmurs, pressing kisses to your forehead, staying close, trying to mask his own panic. When the baby finally comes, and he hears that first cry, tears fill his eyes. He never thought he could experience something so beautiful and terrifying at the same time. Logan would quietly hold the baby, marveling at the tiny life you both created, knowing he’s going to protect this child with everything he has.

Remy LeBeau (Gambit)

Telling Remy you’re pregnant is like lighting a firework. He’s always been a charmer, quick with a grin and a flirtatious quip, but when the news sinks in, his eyes light up with uncontainable excitement. "Mon dieu… I gon’ be a papa?" he says in disbelief, his signature grin widening as he pulls you into his arms. His hands immediately find your stomach, even if there’s no sign of the baby yet, and he plants a loving kiss on your lips. Remy is the kind of man who loves with his whole heart, and now, the idea of a family with you makes him feel like the luckiest man alive.

Throughout the pregnancy, Remy is absolutely doting. He spoils you beyond belief, making sure you have everything you need. He constantly brings you little gifts—flowers, chocolates, or even things for the baby—and he can’t help but talk to your belly every chance he gets, whispering sweet nothings in French. "Cher bébé, you gon’ have de best life wit’ us," he coos. He’s also incredibly playful, making jokes to keep your spirits high during the more uncomfortable parts of the pregnancy. If you’re feeling tired or sick, he’s quick to comfort you, but he does it with his usual playful charm. "You look beautiful, ma chérie, even wit’ a lil’ bump," he teases, kissing your cheek. Remy’s energy makes the whole experience feel lighter, more fun, and less daunting.

During labor, Remy’s usual calm and collected demeanor falters. He’s still his charming self, but there’s a frantic edge to his words as he holds your hand. "You okay, chérie? I’m right here wit’ you," he reassures, though you can see the worry in his eyes. He’s not used to seeing you in pain, and it shakes him more than he thought it would. As the labor progresses, he stays by your side, whispering sweet encouragements in French and English, never letting go of your hand. When the baby finally arrives, he’s completely overwhelmed, tears of joy running down his face as he holds your child for the first time. "Our lil’ miracle," he says softly, his heart full to bursting with love for both you and the baby.

Scott Summers (Cyclops)

When you tell Scott you’re pregnant, he’s stunned, standing still for a long moment as he processes the news. Scott, being the logical and responsible leader he is, has always thought about the future and the possibility of a family, but hearing it from you makes it real in a way that both excites and terrifies him. "We’re… we’re going to be parents?" he asks, his voice soft with disbelief before his arms wrap around you tightly. You can see the joy in his face, mixed with the weight of responsibility that’s already setting in. He’s already planning everything in his mind—how he’ll protect you, the future he’ll build for the three of you, ensuring that you and the baby are always safe.

Throughout your pregnancy, Scott is incredibly attentive and thoughtful. He’s the type to read all the parenting books, meticulously prepare for every scenario, and ensure that you’re comfortable and healthy at all times. He schedules every doctor’s appointment, makes sure you’re eating well, and insists that you take things easy. He’s also incredibly emotional during this time, though he tries to hide it. You often catch him looking at you with a softness in his eyes, one hand resting protectively on your stomach. "I love you so much," he says out of the blue one night, his voice filled with quiet awe. Scott takes everything seriously, and your pregnancy is no exception—he’s already planning how to be the best father he can be.

When the day of labor arrives, Scott is calm and composed, but you can feel the tension rolling off him in waves. He’s a natural leader, but this is out of his control, and it scares him more than he’ll admit. He holds your hand the entire time, murmuring words of encouragement, but there’s a tightness in his voice that betrays his worry. "You’re doing great, we’re almost there," he says, though you can tell he’s just as nervous as you are. When the baby is born, Scott is overcome with emotion. He’s usually so controlled, but in this moment, tears stream down his face as he holds your newborn in his arms. "We did it," he whispers, looking between you and the baby with a sense of awe and love so profound it leaves him speechless.

Ororo Munroe (Storm)

When you tell Ororo you’re pregnant, her reaction is calm yet filled with quiet joy. She has always been a steady presence, and that doesn’t change even in a moment as life-altering as this. You watch as her eyes widen slightly, and she takes a deep breath, letting it out with a smile that’s filled with nothing but love. "A child," she says softly, as if testing the words out on her lips before she steps closer, pulling you into a tender embrace. She kisses your forehead, her fingers gently brushing your stomach. "We will raise them together with the strength of the earth, the wind, and the skies," she whispers, her voice filled with a quiet reverence for this new journey you’re about to embark on together.

During the pregnancy, Ororo is a pillar of strength and grace. She watches over you with care, making sure you feel supported and at peace throughout. Her connection to nature allows her to sense even the smallest changes in your well-being, and she’s quick to help ease any discomfort you feel. She spends hours talking to your growing belly, whispering stories of the world, of the sky, and the beauty of the elements. Her presence is soothing, and she brings you peace in moments where the discomforts of pregnancy are hardest to bear. At night, she holds you close, her hands resting protectively on your stomach, often saying a quiet prayer to the earth for your safety. "You and our child are my heart," she says softly one evening as you drift off to sleep, her love for you as powerful as the storms she commands.

When the time comes for labor, Ororo is a calming force by your side. Even as the pain begins, she stays with you, her hand in yours, reminding you to breathe, to focus on the world around you. "Feel the wind, my love, let it guide you," she murmurs, her voice steady as she helps you through each contraction. You find yourself drawing strength from her presence, her deep connection to the elements grounding you. When the baby finally arrives, she cradles the tiny life in her arms with such tenderness that it brings tears to your eyes. "Welcome to the world, little one," she whispers, her eyes filled with awe and love. Ororo knows this is a moment of great power, not just in the birth of your child, but in the creation of a family bound by love and strength.

Kurt Wagner (Nightcrawler)

When you tell Kurt you’re pregnant, his first reaction is pure, unfiltered joy. His golden eyes light up, and in an instant, he’s pulling you into a tight embrace, his tail curling around you protectively. "Mein Gott! You are serious, ja?" he asks, his excitement palpable. When you nod, he lets out a delighted laugh, teleporting you both into the air for a brief moment in his excitement before bringing you back down gently. He cups your face in his hands, pressing kisses all over your cheeks and lips, his happiness absolutely infectious. "I am going to be a papa?!" he repeats, as if he can’t quite believe it, but the pure joy on his face shows that he couldn’t be happier. He immediately begins to talk about your future together, about how he’ll be the best father, about how lucky the child will be to have you as their mother.

Throughout your pregnancy, Kurt is an absolute ball of energy and love. He’s always fussing over you, making sure you’re comfortable, making sure you’re happy, and doing everything he can to make you smile. He talks to your belly constantly, telling your baby stories of his own childhood, sharing his love for adventure and his deep faith. "You will be loved, little one. So very loved," he whispers often, his tail lightly wrapping around you as he presses his head to your stomach. Despite his own rough upbringing, Kurt is determined to make sure your child is raised with nothing but love and joy. He’s so excited for every little milestone, constantly asking how you’re feeling, and making sure that you never feel alone or overwhelmed. He even starts knitting baby clothes in his spare time, determined to create something personal for your child.

When labor begins, Kurt is nervous but tries his best to stay calm for your sake. He teleports in and out of the room, fetching things, bringing you water, doing anything he can to help. "You are so strong, meine liebe, you’ve got this," he says, though you can see the nervous energy in him as he paces slightly. When things get intense, he stays by your side, holding your hand tightly, his usual calm demeanor replaced with pure awe at what’s happening. The moment the baby is born, Kurt is overwhelmed with emotion. Tears fill his golden eyes as he looks at the tiny life you’ve created together. "Our little miracle," he whispers in awe, his tail brushing gently against the baby’s tiny hand as he cradles them carefully. His heart is full, knowing that this is the start of a new, beautiful chapter for your family.

Piotr Rasputin (Colossus)

When you tell Piotr you’re pregnant, his first reaction is one of quiet shock. His gentle nature has always been a core part of who he is, but the idea of becoming a father leaves him momentarily speechless. He stares at you for a moment, as if processing the magnitude of what you just said. Then, slowly, a smile breaks across his face, and his massive arms gently pull you into a warm, protective embrace. "We are going to have a child?" he asks, his voice soft and filled with wonder. His metal form, cold to the touch, somehow feels comforting as he holds you close, his hands resting gently on your stomach. "I… I will do everything to protect you and our child," he promises, his deep voice filled with determination and love.

Throughout your pregnancy, Piotr becomes an even more protective and attentive partner. He’s already used to being careful with his strength around you, but now he’s even more cautious, always making sure you’re comfortable and safe. He spends hours drawing and painting, creating art that reflects the love and joy he feels for you and the baby. His gentle nature shines through as he constantly checks in with you, making sure you’re well-rested, eating enough, and not doing anything that could put strain on you or the baby. "You should rest, moya lyubov’," he says softly, offering you a cup of tea or a warm blanket whenever you look the least bit uncomfortable. He talks about the future often, about how he wants to raise the child with the same love and care his family gave him, how he wants to teach them to be strong but gentle, like him.

When labor begins, Piotr is a bundle of nerves beneath his calm exterior. His metal form shifts, and you can see the tension in his usually composed demeanor. He stays by your side, holding your hand gently, though you can tell he’s trying not to show just how worried he is. "I am here, love, you are so strong," he says softly, his voice a low rumble as he reassures you throughout the process. As the labor progresses, he’s there every step of the way, doing whatever he can to help. When the baby is finally born, Piotr is overwhelmed with emotion. He carefully cradles the tiny life in his large, metal arms, his eyes shining with tears as he looks at you with pure love. "Our family," he whispers, his deep voice filled with awe and devotion. "You have given me everything."

Erik Lehnsherr (Magneto)

When you tell Erik you’re pregnant, his initial reaction is one of deep, contemplative silence. You watch as the weight of the news settles over him like a heavy cloak, and for a brief moment, there’s an unreadable look in his sharp eyes. He’s always been a man burdened by the past, his life filled with loss and pain. But then, his expression softens, and he reaches out to touch your face, his fingers trembling ever so slightly. "A child," he murmurs, almost as if he’s afraid to believe it. Slowly, a smile tugs at the corners of his lips, and he pulls you into a tight embrace, burying his face in your hair. "We will give them the world," he promises, his voice low and filled with the intensity that only Erik can bring. Though you can tell the news has stirred up memories of his past, the joy he feels for this future with you is undeniable.

During the pregnancy, Erik becomes fiercely protective, bordering on overbearing at times. He’s always been a man who values control, and now that you’re carrying his child, that instinct is heightened tenfold. He monitors everything, making sure you’re safe, making sure you’re comfortable, and making sure nothing threatens you or the baby. His magnetic abilities become almost a subconscious part of how he protects you, moving objects out of your way before you even realize they’re there, adjusting the temperature of the room without a second thought. Despite his intensity, there’s a tenderness in the way he speaks to your belly, as though he’s already trying to form a connection with your unborn child. "You will be strong," he says one evening, his hand resting on your stomach. "I will make sure of it."

When labor begins, Erik is calm but incredibly focused. He’s been through many battles in his life, but this is something different—a battle of a more personal kind. He stays by your side, his hand gripping yours tightly, though you can see the tension in his jaw as he tries to remain composed. "You can do this, my love," he says, his voice steady despite the worry in his eyes. As the contractions grow stronger, he channels his abilities to make the environment as soothing as possible, dimming the lights, adjusting the metal fixtures in the room to make everything feel more comfortable for you. When the baby is finally born, Erik is silent for a long moment, staring at the tiny life you’ve both created. Then, without a word, he takes the child in his arms, his eyes filled with a rare vulnerability as he gazes down at them. "I never thought I would have this again," he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. "Thank you."

Wade Wilson (Deadpool)

When you tell Wade you’re pregnant, his reaction is, unsurprisingly, over the top. He stares at you with wide eyes, his mouth hanging open comically for a moment before he suddenly breaks into a huge grin. "Are you serious?!" he shouts, throwing his arms in the air and spinning around in excitement. He grabs you and starts bouncing you up and down, all the while chattering on about how you’re going to have the coolest kid in the world. "Oh man, this is going to be awesome! Our little baby Wadelette, or Wadelino!" His excitement is infectious, and though his humor never stops, you can tell there’s genuine love and excitement behind his wild antics. He talks about everything from baby names to what kind of mini-costume the kid will wear, all while being completely and utterly himself.

During the pregnancy, Wade is a chaotic but devoted partner. He’s constantly hovering, making ridiculous jokes to keep your spirits up, and finding the weirdest ways to pamper you. "You’re eating for two now! Gotta keep that belly happy!" he’d say, handing you a tray of the strangest food combinations you’ve ever seen. Wade has a way of making even the most uncomfortable moments of pregnancy into something funny, but when the serious moments hit, he’s surprisingly thoughtful. He talks to your belly in exaggerated voices, telling the baby stories of his adventures and promising to be the best (and weirdest) dad ever. Though he can’t quite stop being himself, you know that beneath all the humor, Wade is completely committed to you and the baby.

When labor hits, Wade is... well, Wade. He’s running around like a madman, alternately panicking and cracking jokes to try and keep things light. "Okay, okay, I’ve got this! I’ve fought ninjas, I’ve blown up buildings, how hard can this be?!" he says, though the genuine concern in his eyes gives him away. As things progress, he becomes a little more serious, holding your hand and whispering words of encouragement between his nervous ramblings. When the baby is finally born, Wade is struck speechless for once in his life. He stares down at the tiny bundle in awe, his usual mask of humor slipping as he gently takes the baby in his arms. "Holy crap," he whispers, his voice barely above a breath. "We made a tiny person." He looks at you with wide eyes, his usual bravado replaced with pure, unfiltered love.

Wanda Maximoff (Scarlet Witch)

When you tell Wanda you’re pregnant, her initial reaction is one of quiet, overwhelmed emotion. You watch as her eyes fill with tears, her hands trembling as she reaches out to touch your face. "A baby?" she whispers, her voice filled with disbelief. For Wanda, this news is a dream she never thought possible, a hope she had long since buried beneath the weight of her complicated life. She pulls you into a gentle embrace, holding you close as she tries to process the enormity of what this means for the both of you. Her powers flicker around her, responding to her heightened emotions, but she calms herself quickly, pressing her forehead to yours. "I never thought I would have this chance," she says softly. "But now… now we can have a family."

Throughout the pregnancy, Wanda is a bundle of emotions—both excitement and worry. She’s incredibly protective, her powers always at the ready to keep you and the baby safe, but there’s an underlying fear that something could go wrong. Despite her concerns, she embraces the experience fully, surrounding you with warmth and love. She spends hours researching everything about pregnancy, reading books, and using her magic to ensure you and the baby are healthy. She talks to your belly every night, using her magic to create little illusions of what she imagines your child might look like. "You will be so loved," she whispers to your stomach, her hands gently resting over the growing life inside you. Despite the fears that linger in the back of her mind, Wanda finds joy in the journey, grateful for the chance to experience this with you.

When labor begins, Wanda is nervous but focused. She holds your hand, her magic swirling around the room in gentle pulses, trying to ease your pain and keep you calm. "You’re so strong," she says, her voice soft but full of conviction. "I’m here with you." As the contractions intensify, Wanda uses her powers to help as much as she can without interfering too much, guiding you through the pain with a steady hand and reassuring words. When the baby is finally born, Wanda is overwhelmed with emotion. She cradles the newborn in her arms, tears streaming down her face as she gazes at the life you’ve created together. "Our child," she whispers, her voice filled with awe. "I can’t believe it… they’re perfect."

Pietro Maximoff (Quicksilver)

When you tell Pietro you’re pregnant, his reaction is fast—literally. He zooms around the room at breakneck speed, his excitement palpable as he tries to process the news. "Wait, wait, wait—seriously? I’m going to be a dad?!" he exclaims, coming to a sudden stop in front of you with wide eyes and a grin that stretches from ear to ear. He’s so thrilled that he can barely stand still, constantly moving from one side of the room to the other, muttering excitedly to himself about baby names, future races, and all the things he’ll teach your child. "They’re gonna be fast, I just know it!" he says, already imagining a little speedster following in his footsteps. His excitement is contagious, and though he can be overwhelming at times, you know that Pietro’s joy is genuine and heartfelt.

During the pregnancy, Pietro is both attentive and hilariously impatient. He’s constantly zipping around, checking on you, fetching things, and making sure you’re comfortable. "You need anything? Water? Snacks? Foot rub?" he asks at lightning speed, already halfway out the door before you can answer. His energy is boundless, and though it can be a bit much at times, you appreciate how much he cares. Pietro is always talking to your belly, encouraging the baby to hurry up and grow faster. "Come on, little one, we’re all waiting for you!" he says with a grin, pressing a kiss to your stomach. Despite his impatience, Pietro is incredibly sweet, and he does everything he can to make sure you feel loved and supported throughout the entire process.

When labor begins, Pietro is a whirlwind of nervous energy. He’s constantly pacing, moving from one side of the room to the other, his speed betraying his anxiety. "You’re doing great, babe, really great!" he says, though his voice is tinged with nervousness. He tries to stay calm for your sake, but you can tell he’s on edge, desperate for everything to go smoothly. When the baby is finally born, Pietro’s world comes to a complete standstill for the first time in his life. The moment they place the baby in his arms, everything around him slows, and for once, he’s not in a rush to go anywhere. He stares down at your newborn child, his usual cocky smirk replaced with a look of pure awe and disbelief. "Wow," he whispers, his voice soft and reverent. "I… we made this." His hands, usually moving a mile a minute, are gentle as he cradles the baby close, eyes wide with wonder as he examines every little detail of their face.

[blackmoonoracle]

BLACKMOONORACLE PRESENTS ...

PICK A CARD • OCTOBER PREDICTIONS

P I L E O N E

Soooo, you’ve definitely got a pretty decent release coming in during the month of october. I specifically heard the releasing of a karmic contract, so, I truly love that for you. You could be making a decision about a connection, it definitely feels like a past energy though. Some sort of cycle you’ve experienced with a particular soul over and over again. You put a stop to this though, I feel like you called it like it was. I’m channeling Vultures by Earl Sweatshirt and the beginning of the song literally goes. “I’ve been on the run, that’s why I go harder than you go. Plus I call em how I see em, maybe that’s why I’m all alone.” Season of the Witch is currently playing and it’s the part that goes “you’ve got to pick up every stitch” it feels like an energy of uprooting. I do feel like this pile has a tendency to hold onto people that don’t serve them in any way shape or form. Channeling Serve the Servants by Nirvana, in specific this part stands out:

“I just want you to know that I don't hate you anymore There is nothing I could say that I haven't thought before”

There feels like a specific intention in this pile to remove themselves from relationships that are dragging them down.

Something may be occurring that is causing you to let go of this connection, like something is going to make you realize you’re wasting your time. It’s not like usual either, it’s like this undismissable feeling of disgust and realization.

The mask is being ripped off, and in a very ugly way LOL.

I feel like whatever information you’re going to learn from this situation is actually going to help you develop better self esteem and turn a new leaf. It feels like a sigh of relief, this person possibly made you feel like you weren’t good enough, or were a bad person. I heard “I’m always the problem” and you’re going to realize that you aren’t and never were the problem.

I literally heard “reactive abuse”.

If you’d like to book a personal reading you can always dm me on here or instagram.

P I L E T W O

You guys are making social waves the month of october by setting harsh boundaries and restrictions in place with others. I heard “Look but don’t touch” I feel like there may be some kind of drama going on in october. I did hear workplace, so for some of you this could be career/reputation/workplace related drama and bs bubbling over. I see you taking things into your own hands and very critically thinking about the situation so you can make a solid decision that is balanced and fair. I also heard “in your favor” I feel like whoever this person you have issues with is doesn’t have a very good reputation. It’s almost like this person speaking so negatively of you constantly is really aggravating other people. Especially because you don’t really talk about them at all. You’ve pretty much moved on from whatever this is.

I heard “bitter ex friend” and I also heard “bite the bullet” and I heard something about a poison apple? Someone could have tried to use an apple in some sort of hex or spellwork towards you. It could be also that someone has poisonous intentions of trying to gain access to you and that you are putting that shit to a stop.

I heard scorpio, so this person could be a scorpio. I see you essentially making a judgment on this person socially which is going to cause other people to really see them in a different light. You could also be bringing context or clarity to some kind of situation, you hold missing information or you are a missing link in some way. I also heard complexity, so this situation could be very complex.

This new judgment will teach you to be more selfish with your time and resources so that you can create a genuine balance in your life.

Too much gratitude I heard, which is lowkey crazy? I think that what that means is that essentially sometimes you put shit on a pedestal. There’s a self worth wound being worked out in this situation tbh.

If you’d like to book a personal reading you can always dm me on here or instagram.

P I L E T H R E E

I see a new financial opportunity becoming available in the month of october for you, something unexpected. It could be in something with creation of some kind, doing and creating content possibly even? I see you handling business matters and phone calls of some kind? I heard admin, so some sort of administrative position? I also heard dream job, so for some of you this could be a once in a lifetime opportunity or for others this could be a really solid offer. I also heard high caliber, but I’m also hearing don’t work yourself to death. This group feels very capricorn type of energy, addicted to working, you love making money. I see where you’ve fought long and hard to get into whatever position is being given to you. I see where you’ve lost so much, in search of stability and I feel like you will need to face your shadow of lack and insecurity while in this job position or offer. It almost feels like some of you may try to eject yourself out of the situation because you’re scared or because it feels too good to be true? I feel like this is a good opportunity, but don’t get wrapped up in social liaison I heard. I feel like you have to learn to be comfortable with not fitting in or being like neck deep in a community. You’re meant to be a bit of an outlier at this current point in time because you are learning something new. You’ve already developed the social skills, this is about developing a deeper personal skillset that you can really utilize to drive you to your success.

I see this group really coming to terms with the past, and releasing either the fear of being seen for who you are. I’m also hearing “of being heard” a fear of being perceived for who you really are. You are healing your relationship to yourself, i heard “grotesque” you might be really mean to yourself a lot of the time. Like highkey you are very impatient and cruel to yourself at times and it lowkey sucks for you. I also heard don’t lose sight of what you have, this new opportunity is here for you to milk it for what it has to offer and then dip when things begin to culminate on a deeper scale for you. Some of you could really go through a deep spiritual awakening and learn what happiness truly means to you as a result of this.

If you’d like to book a personal reading you can always dm me on here or instagram

[strawberrychampayne]

you can't be this oblivious

bradley bradshaw x fem!reader

warnings: none except like one swear word lol.

word count: 1026

summary: oblivious!bradley x affectionate!reader!! reader is super affectionate to everyone but it is different with bradley. She’s sweet to everyone but she isn’t sitting at a table for 30 mins and letting just anyone rant about their day, unless they are rooster.

Y/N Y/L/N, aka Magnet was just that. A Magnet. 

“And then they had me doing pushups because I made a snarky comment according to them.”

Bradley Bradshaw better known as Rooster was someone you would consider a best friend. Though Phoenix would argue he’d be more than that if he wasn’t so oblivious. 

“I mean what did you expect Roo? I would’ve had you doing the same thing.” she giggled into her glass. 

They had been at the Hard Deck for around two hours now, coming right after they got off. It felt like a ritual at this point. Work, Hard Deck, go home and then repeat. There were a million other things they could all do and yet they always came here. Maybe it was the atmosphere that cheered them up after a long day. Or the beer.

What she hadn’t expected was sitting at a table for the last 30 minutes with Rooster ranting about the trouble he’d gotten in earlier, she didn’t mind that though. She could listen to him talk forever. There were very few times that Rooster felt comfortable enough to share things so anytime he did, she took it seriously. 

“You wouldn’t even think to punish me Mag, we both know that.” Rooster replied with a smirk playing on his lips. 

She often thought of what it would be like to kiss him. Would his lips be soft and plushy or more rough like he pretended to be. She liked to believe it would be the first option. She’d never get to really know though as it seemed he never reciprocated the feelings she was putting out. 

“You don’t know what I would do, Rooster. I could make you do 20 pushups right now.” she said

“And I would do them.” he said, a twinkle in his eye or maybe it was the lighting. 

She gasped quietly hoping he didn’t hear. Flirty Rooster only came out after a couple of drinks. She had heard the phrase that drunk words are sober thoughts. Never really believing it though, he never had so much to drink he couldn’t remember saying something so eye raising to his supposed best friend. 

“The worst thing about all this extra work is I feel like I have no time to eat something good. It’s always some fries from here and a couple beers” he continued, brushing past his previous statement. 

Coming back to her senses she spoke quickly, “We could go out together. I mean all I do is drink a couple of beers here.”

She felt him tense up. Preparing for the worst she thought of a way to recover.

“You are truly my best friend. I mean nobody else would’ve offered to do something like that.” Rooster spoke up before she could backtrack. 

Her heart cracked slightly. Best Friend. Who knew two words could hurt so much. Glancing to her right she could see Hangman and Phoenix cringing at the sight. Warmth flooded her body as she began to stand up. 

“Hey where are you going?” he questioned following her up. 

“Yeah um, my head is starting to hurt so I think I’m just going to head home. I’ll see you tomorrow Bradley.” she said as she turned to walk away.

Bradley? She only called him by his first name when she was upset or poking fun at him. 

“Well at least let me take you home? I mean I brought you here.” he rushed out.

“No. It’s fine I’ll call an uber.” she pushed past a few people and walked out the door. 

Shoulders slumping Rooster glanced out the window at the woman. Phone in hand she was true to her word in calling an uber. He felt a pang in his heart watching her. Had he done something wrong? 

A hand clapped against his shoulder. He could smell the cologne and know who it was before even turning his head. 

“Well that was a shit show. I mean come on, Rooster, you can’t be this oblivious.” Hangman said with a cocky smile. 

Shrugging his hand off Rooster turned his head; the muscles in his jaw contracting, “What do you mean, Hangman? Oblivious to what?”

Hangman laughed at him, “You’re meaning to tell me that you haven’t realized that Magnet has been flirting with you ever since she met you? I mean she practically asked you on a date a few minutes ago.” 

Was that a ringing in his ears? Y/N flirting with him? Bradley felt like his head was going to combust where he stood. 

“And there's the look of realization. You really must’ve been oblivious.” Hangman added. 

“I think you’ve gotten this all mixed up. I mean Y/N is close and affectionate with everyone. She leans her head on your shoulder, gossips with Phoenix, and is constantly fixing Bob's glasses. And with me she just leans up against me, compliments me and listens to me rant and she-” Rooster took a pause. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh. I mean Rooster, Y/N is an affectionate person for sure. But she has never once listened to one of my rants and she’s the only one who'll listen to yours.” Hangman said, an almost serious look on his face. 

“I just watched my future wife walk out that door after asking me on a date.” Bradley said.

“Well hold on nobody said she was-” Hangman started before Rooster talked over him.

“No Hangman, trust me I know. That is going to be my wife. As long as I haven’t ruined everything.” Rooster said, confidence in his voice. 

“Well then I guess you should go get your wife to be.” Hangman said, a small smile on his lips. 

“Yeah I’ve got to go.” Rooster took off out of the bar and to his car. 

“I cannot believe it took him that long to realize that.” Phoenix said, walking up besides Hangman. 

“He’s a little oblivious but we got there. Hope he has a gorgeous ring to propose with. Claims that’s his wife to be” Hangman replied. 

“I don’t doubt that.” Phoenix remarked quietly, watching Rooster peel out of the parking lot.

let me know if anyone wants a part 2!

!!!please don't repost my work anywhere, translate, or bind my works anywhere without permission!!!

[dropsnectar]

Pollen and Potions: Bee-men x Afab!reader

PART FOUR

So I know I said this part would have smut but it would just mess with the pacing, so the whole next section is where you will find your spice. This part is a little shorter for that reason. Anyway, I hope you like!

When you woke up, you felt incredibly warm. Your legs were tangled up with… someone elses? You would say it was someone else but human skin didn’t feel like this. It was firm and a bit fuzzy, but not like hair.  Your nose was being tickled by… fur? Whatever it was smelled amazing. 

You recognized this scent. You opened your eyes to Lyith’s round, sleeping face. His impossibly big eyes were closed, revealing his long blonde lashes. His expression was serene, and a bit of drool had escaped his half open mouth. Your sleep-addled brain vibrated with excitement. He was so cute you could just kiss him… 

Nope! Awake brain was working now, bringing some clarity to your head. Lyith and Rena had made a habit of covering your face in kisses but it had all been platonic. Excessive affection was a Bee-men trait. Probably? You thought back to yesterday, when he had kissed you and you had kissed him… was that truly platonic? 

There was a heat in your stomach, butterflies whenever he would hang off of you or tease… A part of you wanted to face these feelings but you weren’t ready yet. After all, how could a bee-men be with a human? You had heard of monster-human relations being something that could happen, but was their species even compatible with you? Was there a future there?

“You're thinking awfully hard for 8 in the morning.” Lyith breathed next to you. 

 Your awareness returned to you, and you were very cognizant of the fact that he had been holding you in his sleep. You pulled yourself back a bit so you couldn’t feel his breath on your face. He narrowed his eyes and his lip jutted out. A childish but cute pattern of his.

“W-What are you doing in my house?”

His mouth twitched. “You are a sick person. You should have someone to look after you. I’m  glad though, you only slept for a day this time.”

You looked at him, eyes squinting, “Are you okay though? Don’t you need to be at the hive for your… bee duties?”

Lyith sputtered at you, his body rocking with laughter. “And tell me, what are “bee duties”, Little witch?”

Your cheeks heated and you sat up, crossing arms over your chest.

“I just wanted to make sure you wouldn’t be in trouble, is all. What exactly is your duty in the hive anyway?”

Lyith stared up at you under his long lashes. “I am a forager. A scholar. An ambassador who goes to human town to get our supplies. Actually..”

He brought himself up and stretched out his wings. They seemed sturdy enough not to get too bothered by him laying on them all night.

“.. I used to know your grandmother. She used to let me forager her garden. Of course, she was a lot more sparing with her magic, so it was nothing like what you do.” He gave you a pointed look, “But she taught me how to speak human. An interesting person, your grandmother. We used to buy seeds for flower monsters off her. She must have had quite a life.”

You stared at him in surprise. Your grandmother had always been somewhat of a stereotypical grandmother. She’d spoil you and laugh at your jokes, leave little candies in your pocket when you weren’t looking. You had never imagined her to be the type of person to deal with Flower Monsters of all things. It also explained why Lyith seemed so trusting of you, off the bat.

“Hey Lyith?” You breathed out, trying not to think about how your legs were still touching.

“Yes?”

“Do you want some breakfast?”

***

After that, you saw Lyith almost everyday. He made a point of stopping to talk to you every time he visited your garden. Once a week he would take you to see Rena and you would work more magic over the plants. As the spring progressed into summer, the flowers changed. You learned that your magic, while creating magical nectar, only stayed within the plant and not the soil. You were right in your worry that a different approach was needed.

You met a lot more of the hive, as on their days off, some Bee-men would come and watch you work on the flowers. Not all of them were able to speak human, but they communicated their gratitude through sharing their emotions. As you experienced this more and more, you started to pick up on what could even be counted as them asking you questions. You’d try to answer in kind, putting a hand on their arm or shoulder and trying to push images or feelings at them. This worked only half the time, but when it did, the Be-men would look so pleased they would dance. 

Rena, had always seemed a bit jealous by this.

“Why don’t you speak to us like that? We speak human for your convenience you know. Aren’t I closer to you then some random creature?”

“Don’t call your hive mates ' creature’, that's rude.”

Rena would get up in your face, throwing her arms around your shoulders and touch her nose to yours. In your mind you would feel her jealousy. A possessiveness that you couldn’t help but feel a little giddy about. You tried to straighten out your feelings, giving her a kiss on the cheek. Then, you’d try to project some calm, warm energy at her. She just looked at you, sighing.

“You humans are a lot more dense than I thought.”

 Then she’d buzz off to deliver her nectar to the hive, leaving you behind in the company of her Hive mates. Lyith and Rena had been giving you more space lately when it came to your magic. You’d take more breaks, and often were given time to socialize. The Bee-mens youngest hive mate, Haven had grown especially fond of your company recently. He was your friend in gossip. 

Rena and Lyith had a habit of glossing over the issues of the hive, but Haven was very different. He would answer any question you could think of. You had learned that Rena and Lyith were actually pretty high up there in the social hierarchy, as they were both scholars who taught the rest of the hive in their free time. 

He was also very honest about the struggles of the hive.

“It's been about two decades since the last Queen died. We were having some issues with ambassadors from hives from the northern hive when a squirmish broke out. A lot of Bee-men died that day. Several of the Queen's favorite drones passed on and upon hearing the news her heart gave out.”

“Immediately? She wasn’t sick?”

“Do humans get sick before they die of heartbreak? For us it is impossible. Our bonds are our happiness. Without each other, our home isn’t a home, but an empty structure…” Haven trailed off, his expression wistful.

“But what was the squirmish about? I thought Bee-men were a friendly species.”

“You see, the two Queens had been sisters. The Northern Queen never liked our late matriarch and had been up to some mischief. She had convinced the Bunny Hybrids and the werewolves to move out of our territory. Eventually, the flower monsters left as well, and all the magic in the area just… disappeared. And Queens usually travel and make their own hives, or pick up abandoned ones. We’ve been waiting for so long!”

“Thats got to be hard. I mean, your guyses population can’t grow right?”

Haven looked at you weird.

“It’s more than that! Our Queens Pheromones give our magic structure! Without a Queen our magic grows weak and it's harder to communicate! Even making our honey properly becomes difficult because our grasp of our magic slips. We are so lucky we found you, little witch! Your magic is so easy to convert. I told you, you are a blessing!”

“But if you guys haven't been able to make honey properly for a while, how have you survived?”

“We haven’t. It's like your mana sickness. Sometimes our magic just eats us up.” You stared at Haven, your stomach turning. Haven looked at you sadly. “You should know this. Your Lyith and Rena have been sheltering you way too much. You're basically part of the hive at this point.”

You reached forward and hugged Haven. He trilled happily. 

“Honestly it could be so much worse!”

You spent the rest of the day in silence. You had known they were starving, but you hadn’t realized how badly. Something else didn’t sit right with you either. The fact that the monster races had left their territory had been something that had been bothering you. That had to be the reason why the soil wasn’t absorbing magic, right? That was the only thing that had changed?

Then it hit you. What was soil? It was broken down waste. No Monsters. No decay. No shit. And how did the Bee-men manage their own waste anyway? Could you do something with this? Could it really be that simple? 

You got so excited to tell Rena about it that it surprised you when you saw her at your door. Rena never made the trek to your house, saying that human civilization had a terrible smell to it. When you saw her face, she was crying.

“You have to come with me. Now.”

“Rena whats wrong, are you--”

“It's Lyith.”

All you could hear for a moment was the large thudding of your heart. Without another word you jumped into Rena’s arms and she held you, giving you a huge squeeze before buzzing off into the forest.

Part Five (Beware NSFW)

[bitethedevil]

Taming the Wolf (Raphael x Tav): Chapter 5

Tags and Warnings for this fic: Plus-Size!Tav, Druid!Tav, Tiefling!Tav, Dark!Raphael, Breeding Kink, Mind-control, Non-Con and Dub-Con Elements, Sex Pollen, Master/Pet Dynamic, Somnophilia, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.

A link to read this fic on AO3 (kudos or comments make the author very happy <3)

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Fic Summary: Tav tried to avoid fulfilling her contract to Raphael by leaving the Crown of Karsus on the bottom of the Chionthar, leaving her contract unfulfilled by a technicality. Although, no situation is so bad that the new Archdevil of the First can't find a way to profit off it. All the other archdevils of the Hells have their own lineages of tieflings on the Material Plane and Raphael is not going to feel left out...

Chapter Summary: Haarlep helps out (NSFW).

AN: Warning: Mention of Baby-Eating (don't even ask...)

“Do you think I’m stupid?” she asked them with a scoff.

“I think that a woman in your position can’t afford to not grab at the opportunities presented to her,” Haarlep answered. “And I would be delighted to help you.”

She sat up in the bed to look at them better. It was unnerving how they were wearing Raphael’s face and yet their facial expressions were so different from his.

“Alright, second question then: are you stupid?” she asked. “Even if it was not a completely outrageous idea, how do you suppose you would explain a baby that does not even look like him? You might be able to take his form, but the child would take after your true form.”

“Oh, come now…” they pleaded. “Use your imagination a little, druid. That’s nothing a simple glamour spell won’t fix. Please…he starves me.”

She raised an eyebrow at them and looked them up and down.

“Ah…so that’s what this is all about,” she said. “I should have guessed. I’m busy enough being used by your master. I don’t need to be used by his pets too.”

“This is about revenge,” Haarlep said with a fire in their eyes and desperation in their voice. “That little brat has gotten too much power, and it has gone to his head. I used to have him wrapped around my little finger and now he keeps me in this demeaning collar, unable to feed myself while he is either too busy literally fucking you or figuratively fucking the other eight archdevils of the Hells.”

She watched their expression. They were truly desperate. There was no doubt about it. She did feel oddly bad for them. Their predicament was not too different from their own and they were both under the thumb of the same sadistic man.

“What would I even gain from this?” she asked with a sigh. “I am tired, Phaelar…or Haarlep or whatever the fuck your name is, and it seems my time here has barely even begun.”

“Peace,” they answered. “If he thinks that you are pregnant with his spawn, he will lose interest in fucking you. When I came in here, you thought I was him. How would you have known any better if I came in here and demanded what he does? You can blame it on me. I will take the punishment for it. It would be worth it to see the look on his face.”

She thought about it for a moment. It was a fucked situation, but she was considering it. Haarlep was not the only one who wanted revenge.

“And unlike with him,” Haarlep said. “You will be in complete control of it. I can’t touch you because of the collar, but I’d wager that you can touch me. Here.”

Haarlep held out a hand to her. She readied herself to be shocked by the collar, but when she touched his palm, no shock came. Haarlep smiled. She withdrew her hand.

“I’ll think about it,” she said. “But only on days where I am particularly fertile. I don’t want to waste any attempts.”

Haarlep whined and rolled their eyes, but then looked at her and nodded in understanding.

“Fine, fine,” they said and got off the bed. “I’ll come and visit you then.”

The days went by. She had not gotten her period when she was supposed to. Most likely it was due to stress and the staff at the fortress did not exactly help. The physician who tracked her cycle was starting to threaten her with gynecological check-ups to see if she was lying about it. The whole thing was awful. She wasn’t even sure if she should hope that it came or not.

Raphael kept badgering her too. There was not a single dinner where he did not ask her and if she snapped at him, he would either tone her out or use the collar if she got aggressive. She did however learn that he was more careful with using the collar as much as usual while she went through her pregnancy scare. Something told her that if she was going to try and escape, she should wait until she was pregnant so he would go easy on her if discovered.

Eventually her period did arrive a week too late. She felt an odd empty feeling in her stomach when it did. She was neither relieved nor stressed about it. The idea of lying and keeping it a secret did occur to her, but it would not do anything to help her. Eventually Raphael would no doubt find out anyway.

That empty feeling was becoming a theme for her. She had anything and everything at her disposal. Raphael was generous with her, just like he had promised. None of it mattered though. Her fate was the same and eventually Raphael would visit her again.

A day before he was supposed to, she got a visit from Haarlep in Raphael’s form once again.

They smiled at her when they entered her chamber and sat down on the edge of the bed.

“So…” they said with a seductive smile.

She really did not feel like it. Although, on the other hand, if it worked, she could stick it to Raphael and she would not have to endure his ministrations for nine months. She nodded. Haarlep began sliding out of his clothes and she stopped them with a hand gesture.

“Could you maybe…take any other form than his?” she asked.

Haarlep tilted their head as they looked at her.

“Oh, are you afraid that he will feel it?” they asked. “He shuts it off, you know. He only allows the connection when he wants to after he got the crown. Trust me, I have tested it thoroughly. He won’t feel it unless he gets suspicious and checks in, and he is in a meeting somewhere in Dis right now. He’s distracted.”

She honestly had not even considered that part of it, but that was sort of a terrifying thought too.

“Good to know, but it’s just…” she muttered. “I’ll see enough of Raphael’s for the next couple of days. It would be nice if you could be someone else.”

Haarlep paused half-way out of the doublet they had no doubt stolen from Raphael’s wardrobe.

“Well, darling, the options are rather limited,” they said with an apologetic smile. “He only allows me those of himself these days. The collar will react if I change into anything else.”

“How about your true form then?” she asked. “Surely, he can’t forbid you from using that.”

Haarlep’s smile faltered immediately. They were so much more expressive than Raphael was and there was a clear sense of melancholy on their features. They shook their head and schooled their expression into a tight smile.

“No, I’m afraid I can’t,” they said and shook out of the doublet and carefully folded it in their lap.

“Why?”

“Because I can’t!” they snapped.

Tav was shocked at the sudden outburst. She had really only been curious. She had no idea it was a tender subject for the incubus. They weren’t looking at her anymore. They were looking at the doublet in their lap. They reached forward and placed it on a chair near her bed before moving their focus to the buttons on the white shirt they were wearing underneath. It was painfully quiet for a while before they spoke up again.

“Apologies,” they said with a small bitter smile. “I suppose my hunger makes me grumpy. I didn’t mean to snap at you. I suppose it’s a reasonable question…”

She watched them while they fumbled with the buttons of their shirt. The question had clearly thrown them off.

“Well?” she asked gently.

Haarlep sighed deeply and shook their head. They leaned back on the bed, resting their weight on their arms.

“I have never told anyone…” they mumbled and looked at her.

They looked her up and down, but there was not the same hunger in their gaze as there had been the other times they had spoken together. This was a look of pity more than anything else.

“Centuries ago, I left Mephistopheles service as a gift to his son,” they began explaining. “I had seen the little brat around in his daddy’s castle. I had slept with him plenty of times before I ever came to Avernus… Now, Raphael’s relationship with his daddy is a complicated one. One day Mephistopheles wanted to humble his son at court after he had been a particularly naughty boy, so…he had me walk through the throne room, in front of the whole court, in his form and my best lingerie.”

She watched Haarlep smile in sadistic amusement at the memory, but their expression soon turned slightly sour again.

“Needless to say, Raphael was less than pleased. He has always been a sensitive boy, that one. Then eventually I came to stay in Avernus with him. We bickered a lot in the beginning. He was being unreasonable, as he always is, and I may or may not have mentioned that particular incident. I remember him fuming about it. I was used to Mephistopheles temper, and Raphael is his spitting image when it comes to the hereditary hissy fits.”

Haarlep sighed and a note of that same melancholy as before washed over their features. She was listening intently.

“I don’t remember much of what happened, truth be told. I just remember being woken up in his bed…some old greyed mortal wizard and him standing by the end of the bed. I was in the same form that I had used to humiliate him with that day. The one that looks younger and prettier than he does now. They had made me forget…”

“Forget what?” she asked. “What do you mean?”

“My true name and my true form. No matter how hard I try, my old memories are blurred. I can remember my time before Raphael’s service but every memory where I was wearing my true form is blurred. My true voice incoherent, my form blurry and unrecognizable, the memory of feeling my own body numbed… I had nightmares about blurry forms in mirrors for decades. Pathetic, really…”

Haarlep shook their head and changed into the younger looking Raphael in a flash of fire.

“This is who I am now. My body is his in the most literal sense and even my name is formed after his…” Haarlep mumbled and then made an imitation of Raphael’s tone: “’So, you don’t forget who you belong to, dear Haarlep’ he had said as his reasoning, the bastard…”

She was quiet. She truly did feel bad for them, fiend or not. She gently placed their hand on their shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I can’t imagine what that must be like.”

Haarlep smiled and looked at her hand. They immediately returned to their usual aloof mood.

“Oh, not to worry darling,” they said with a sigh. “You won’t have to imagine soon. Raphael always ends up shaping everything around him into an image of himself in some shape or form. I do wonder though if I did make you pregnant… Would I even be able to look at the child or would it be a blurry blob as well since it has my true features, do you think?”

It was a terribly depressing thought, and it was said with such a light tone.

“I…I don’t know,” she said.

“I suppose we will never know if I keep yapping about my sad and horrible past,” they said as if it was a joke. “Again, I apologize. Hunger just makes me so moody, and I am starving.”

She shook her head and tried to shake herself from the heavy discussion they just had, but it was difficult.

“Alright…” she said. “How do we do this?”

Haarlep settled down on the bed and untied their pants before patting their lap in invitation. They were already hard. How in the Hells they managed to be aroused after what they just spoke about was beyond her. A feature of being an incubus, she assumed. She was really trying her best to return to reality and shake the feeling of dread.

She slid out of her nightgown. Haarlep watched her with bated breath as she did so. She crawled to straddle his lap. Her movements were clumsy and awkward, but Haarlep did not seem to mind in the least.

She looked to the side to distract herself from the form under her as she tried to lower herself onto him. It hurt. She was not at all in the mood for it yet. She cursed under her breath.

“No rush, darling,” Haarlep purred from under her. “I can’t help, but oh I wish I could.”

It was clear in their tone sounded that they were grieving the fact that they couldn’t touch her. She tried to rub her cunt on their cock instead to get herself wet. Haarlep let out a satisfied moan at the friction, though they could feel as much as her that she was not into this. Haarlep fed on her pleasure, and they would not get satisfied unless she was enjoying it too.

“I am not sure that you can kiss me without me accidentally kissing back, but I could spit in your mouth?” they suggested in a low tone with a smile. “Would you like that?”

Not really. She knew perfectly well the effects of their spit and how excruciating it could be. Then again, that had been with Raphael who teased and denied her. With Haarlep she could just take what she wanted, it seemed. She looked at them and nodded.

“Open your mouth.”

She did. They spat into it with the accuracy of someone who had done it a thousand times. She wrinkled her nose a bit as she closed her mouth and swallowed it. It only took seconds before she could start feeling her whole body tingle. It was more potent directly from the source and she grew wet so fast that it seemed entirely unnatural.

She parted her lips in a small moan of relief as she started sliding over his cock with ease now as she ground herself on it. Haarlep hummed in satisfaction and gripped the sheets not to touch her.

“Much better,” they purred. “You are doing so well…”

Their eyes looked almost in love as they watched her. As if she was the most beautiful being they had ever seen. Despite her knowing it was pure hunger being sated and nothing else, she had never had anyone look at her quite like that and the feeling went straight to her abdomen.

She moved to position them at her entrance. She slid down onto them with a breathless moan. Her whole body was on fire. She began riding them at a steady pace. Her hand went to her mouth to quiet herself.

“No, let me hear you,” they protested softly from under her. “Please…I want to hear those pretty sounds of yours.”

She moved her hand away from her mouth. She was not even sure why she did it in the first place. The guards outside thought it was Raphael in here with her anyway, but it was as if a tiny sliver of fear of getting caught was still in the back of her mind despite her dulled senses.

Her moans were getting louder, and she upped her pace. The spittle along with being able to take what she wanted felt like utter bliss. It did not take long before she was riding them like there was no tomorrow and Haarlep seemed to be living for it. They were feasting, as their moans turned into feral growls, and they started babbling dirty words at her. Their claws would surely rip up her mattress with the way they were digging into it to not touch her.

“Mm, you are so good,” they growled from under her. “So delicious…That’s it…Take what you want from me, my sweet greedy girl. Fill that pretty belly of yours…Yes, yes…mm.”

They were growling like an animal in heat, and it went straight to her core. She rode them harder. She was so close. Her nails dug into their chest. She almost screamed when she came. By the look on Haarlep’s face they were seconds behind her. She could feel them starting to spurt their seed inside her.

She felt a sharp, strong tug backwards and then a loud thud as the back of her head hit the wall on the opposite side of the room. Everything went black for a second as she grabbed the back of her head in confusion. She blinked and gave Haarlep a terrified look before the door to her chambers shot open.

She felt a cold shiver go through her whole body and she lowered her gaze to the floor. She did not need to look to know who just stepped inside her chambers. So, this would be how she died, she thought for a moment. She could hear his slow, heavy footsteps enter the room, followed by a loud slam of the door behind him.

“When the cat’s away, the mice will play, I see…” Raphael drawled in a dangerously calm tone. “Haarlep…my dear…would you kindly explain yourself?”

There was complete silence in the room. The kind of silence one might imagine there would be before the world crumbles down around your ears. She looked up at Haarlep. There was a slightly unhinged smile on their face.

“I am simply making your new pet feel welcome, master,” Haarlep said in a quiet voice. “And helping out, of course. Dreadfully punctual thing, all that baby-making and you are oh so busy these days.”

It was clear that despite their big mouth, Haarlep was scared of him too, even though they were better at hiding it than her at the moment. Raphael stared them down.

“Besides,” Haarlep said and looked at her. “She begged me to help.”

Her fear turned into anger at the drop of a hat. She opened her mouth to protest, but she barely got a sound out before Raphael pinned her with his glare.

“You will be quiet until spoken to,” Raphael growled at her and looked back at Haarlep. “You came inside her. I felt it. You have never been burdened by intelligence, Haarlep, and yet, you still manage to surprise me with your idiocy. Did either of you truly think that I was unaware of anything that happens here?”

They were both quiet. Raphael looked at her again. His eyes trailed down her body with a look of disdain. His eyes lingered at her sex that still dripped with Haarlep’s cum. He looked her in the eyes with a hateful, sadistic smile.

“If a child comes out of you that does not look like the perfect image of myself, I will fatten it up at your breast, make you love and care for it, before I feed it to you in pieces. If I am feeling gracious, I might kill it before doing so. Do we understand each other?”

The threat made her blood go cold. She knew that he meant every word of it. She gave him a slow nod. A big toothy smile spread over his features. He turned to look at Haarlep.

“Change into her form,” he ordered.

[sitp-recs]

Between the Power Lines by @tackytigerfic (M, 3k)

For Harry Potter, all roads eventually lead to Draco Malfoy. Or: this is not an AU! It's just Harry and Draco meeting by chance in an imported food shop in Connecticut and going on a road trip together. Featuring motels, cacti, Americana, and a hefty dose of pining.

In New Orleans, they got drunk on Bourbon Street, and Malfoy danced on his own (arms bare, laughing; Harry could have watched him all night) and later on, so late it was almost morning, they let themselves into the St Louis Cemetery—Malfoy unpicking the lock so sweetly—and walked around until the sky was pink-edged with the promise of another day’s heat. Then they sat on the steps of a crypt, watched over by sightless eyes of the statue of an angel. She looked exhausted rather than sad, Harry thought, and that made a lot of sense when he thought about his own longstanding, dull-edged grief.

It’s been ages (or 2 years) since I last wrote a rec for Tacky (I usually write for other readers, except when I’m reccing friends - then I write for them) and their birthday was the perfect excuse to put my reccing muscles back to work. I almost bailed out because I know this is one of T’s own faves and “what if I don’t do it justice?” but that tired angel banner has been sitting in my drafts for 3 long years and it deserves a proper rec!

Where to even begin? Anyone who knows Tacky is aware of their superb prose - rich and nuanced, compassionate, effortlessly funny, with a strong sense of place and a soft spot for suds scenes and filthy m-rated sex I mean devastating romance. Their writing breathes heart and personality, very much like Tacky themself. So knowing that this fic came out exactly as they intended it to should be enough to make you go read this right now, but in case you need further incentive, see below all the reasons why this oneshot is so special to me:

1. The *vibes*: if you thought that 3k is nowhere near enough to build the sexiest, most intriguing Americana atmosphere you’ve seen, think again. The aesthetics are impeccable here, decorating the beautiful and strange landscape - cacti and cheap motels included - into something peaceful and desolate, an overarching melancholy making it even more compelling. The dialogue is brilliant but the silences are just as loud and meaningful, with a quiet intimacy and a dreamlike quality that make you feel as if you're intruding a memory.

2. The romance: at this point everyone and their dog know that pining!Harry is Tacky's jam - they luxuriate in making us all suffer with him until the realization that Draco has been loving him back all along slaps us in the face. Harry is so stupid and desperate and wanton, I love it. And the way Tacky reinvents this delicious trope to make it work in new angsty ways blows my mind. Imo the slow burn is particularly effective here, a feat in any 3k story, because the narrative gives us so much character insight. We learn all the little things that make these two lonely boys tick as we watch their ever-changing perception of each other evolve from a tentative truce to reluctant confidants to a comfortable, easy love that comes naturally and earned. We often get those bits of information from imagery and emotions alone, no dialogue needed, and a road trip is the best way to explore those dynamics in a smooth, unhurried pace.

3. The journey: this is truly an immersive journey, not only physical as we keep jumping from one destination to the next, but also emotional, as we learn more about their vulnerabilities and desires the more they gravitate towards each other. This story shows that being far away from home can be both freeing and grounding, when you’re stuck with your hot enemy someone who knows about your darkest hour. It gives you the chance to heal and visualize a different future without forgetting your past or letting go of that which has shaped who you are. I love their chance encounter and how this poignant 30k love story is told in such impressive economy of words.

TL;DR: if you’re a short form fan and prone to melancholy like me believe me when I say it doesn’t get any better than this. The whole road trip shebang mixing grief, romance and nostalgia wrapped in Tacky’s lush writing is a gift to any reader and an elegant work of art. Enjoy!!!

[cvrsedslytherin]

Exquisite Hell — My Silver-Tongued Devil

Sebastian Sallow x GN!Reader (First person POV)

NSFW, minors do not interact. Work of ANGST and SMUT.

Sebastian Sallow was a silver-tongued devil. One you couldn’t get enough of; not even when it poisoned you. Your endless thoughts seeped through as he took you like he always did—he gave you agony and pleasure.

Divider Credits: @/thecutestgrotto

Disclaimer: I’d like to consider this a poetic oneshot though I’m no poet. This is a new style of writing I’m trying. Same with the reader being GN and a first person pov. I tried my best as I’m learning this style and even one of these genres, not used to smut. This was inspired by two things. I can only hope I did it justice.

Winsome and diaphanous were the way Sebastian Sallow’s words came at me; he truly had a way of making me believe all the charming things he would say.

Was it his smile that would bask in the warmth of a thousand suns? Was it the way his deep-set brown eyes would glimmer like honey as soon as the light had shone on them? Was it the low tone of his voice with that Scottish accent that sent shivers down my spine? Or maybe it was the hundreds of freckles painted on his face that made him seem so innocent at first.

That smile wasn’t a smile but a dangerous smirk that I was too blind to see. Calculated, because he knew what he was doing to me. The light illuminated his eyes, tricking me to forget how dark they would usually be.

And the freckles? Well, those were just damn attractive. No trickery, just sheer dumb luck to make him more perfect.

I don’t have to explain how devastatingly handsome Sebastian Sallow is. Not only did he have a brain that captivated me in every way; even with the darkness that shackled his mind… but he also looked like everything I ever wanted. A nightmare masking as a daydream.

What was he, sculpted by the Greek Gods somehow?

Yet he was the most flawed being I ever had the agonizing pleasure of knowing. An ugliness that I was still drawn to. Not even the Cruciatus curse compared to him. I felt as though I was put under Imperio just to endure his delightful pain—and yes, it was delightful.

One day, I swear my heart would feel Avada Kedavra cast from him. Maybe not in a literal sense but definitely in the way that my soul would get turned into ashes by him.

Sebastian Sallow, the personification of the Unforgivable curses. In a hauntingly, beautiful way.

An angel is what he could have been but too bad, he was the devil. Alas, I was the mere fool caught in his trap though.

Sebastian had potential; it wasn’t that he was evil per se, there was good but it had been too deeply buried in the confines of his smeared soul. Too much hurt had plagued him and as much as I wished to be his saving grace, I couldn’t be. No matter how hard I tried, he was lost.

And all I could do was let him drag me through this exquisite hell that would eventually destroy me.

Perhaps I was twisted too… because I couldn’t stay away.

I was in love.

A familiar sensation, of Sebastian fucking me well into oblivion. His cock was so deeply swallowed by me, making me moan out incoherent words. A game that we played except it wasn’t a game to me; yet I let myself stay as a player.

Once he heard those sinful sounds escape from my lips, his smirk widened. His eyes twinkled with pride because he knew. He fucking knew.

I enjoyed the pleasure too; it would be a lie to say that I didn’t. My body undoubtedly craved his just as he seemed to want to mold into mine, trying to possess me.

Wanting him in every way imaginable but I don’t just mean this erotic dance we engaged in. Ah, I digress.

Sebastian Sallow knew how to fuck and make you feel like you’re on top of the world, that was the simple truth.

On the other hand, I had wished he was fucking me out of pure love… but I knew better than to believe the sweet praises falling from those lips. The praises left a bittersweet taste in my mouth as I both relished and ached at those delicious words.

Maybe deep down… he did feel something as this was reoccurring. The full length of his shaft seemed to find a home in the tightness of my heat. Never getting tired of the pleasurable sensation, he nor I.

I couldn’t read his mind; he’d never let me nor would he offer to share any depth. I wasn’t the most angelic of people either—so casting 'Legilimens’ was always on the tip of my tongue, to just dive into that tortured soul of a mind. Merlin, the curiosity was a brutal need. The spell whirling in my mind as if to taunt me.

I just wanted to know… what he hides in there.

Yet I felt that sometimes, I was the only one who could understand him. Who could pick up the cues. I knew he was a mess of a person—the prettiest boy, full of mischief and sadness; a violent boy, full of rage and insecurity that others failed to see. I noticed everything about him.

But not what he thinks of me. He needs someone. Who can that someone be? It won’t be me, no matter how hard I wish upon the stars in the night sky to grant me this one thing. Why would it? This is the prison of chaos not the oasis of miracles.

In the primal sense, it seemed like he needed ME but love? He’s charismatic to several, which makes me turn green; my eyes full of jealousy burning behind his back. A burning that I had to dip into the vast ocean to cleanse out of my system before the pain in me revealed itself. This was where the problems that choked me lay. Flirtatious in personality and infected others with smiles, even if they got annoyed with him. No one could stay away from him and I know he was experienced. Whether from the past or present. I know he would compliment others; he couldn’t resist charming a pretty girl who gave him attention—that came his way, stealing what I laid naive, emotional claim to.

Fuck, I was as possessive as he was. I just hid it well externally. And yes, he spoke possessively to me, maybe because it was the heat of passion.

“You feel amazing, fuck…” A grunt escaped his mouth at a particularly rough thrust that had my insides shaking. I arched a bit, accepting how greedily he wanted to bury himself inside of me—stretching me more and more to my limits every single time.

“You’re mine, say it… ah, haa…” he practically growled that out as I whimpered.

He didn’t mean it. He couldn’t have.

Yet my heart instantly responded with a ‘yes, I’m utterly yours, you fool.’ That whimper caused him delight as his eyes darkened at me.

But I had a small piece of pride during these moments when he wrecked me; a shudder in my body serving to his pleasure. A pride he would no doubt, break down.

He took his free hand that wasn’t gripping my hip with a bruising force and pried my mouth fully open with his thumb. His movements speed up, slamming with reckless abandon now. ‘He’s close,’ I thought. He slightly pushed his thumb into my mouth, holding the bottom of my jaw with the rest of his hand, the tip of his thumb touching my bottom teeth, moving further in—trying to feel a bit of my tongue.

“Say it, sweetheart… c’mon, say that you’re mine,” he didn’t growl it this time. Much to my surprise, it almost sounded like a plea rather than a command and that’s how devilish he was. He knew I would weaken at that tone right away. I cursed my weakness.

Gasping out, I mumbled, “A-ah… y-yours…”

“Whose?” His thrust punctuated that question and his hand was still there, wanting me to mumble more. Commanding it now to rip out of me.

“Yours… S-Sebastian… I’m yours.” My mouth betrayed my little pride despite it being the truth. I had no eyes for anyone else.

He groaned in satisfaction and grinned a little, then dipped his thumb fully into my mouth, making me suck. My lips closed in and my tongue moved slightly because I would have kissed and licked every part of him.

And I did.

Just as he also did it; he would worship my body sometimes. Making sure every inch of it got attention… got touched, kissed, licked, sucked; all of it. Covering me in marks as if I were his work of art, a masterpiece he wished to display because he created it and owned it. It wasn’t always a frantic fuck—a mindless release but this was what made me wish more; that he would never even glance at someone else. My dark thoughts oozed out, the fact that I wanted to cage him and hide him from the others. See, I was pathetically obsessed with him.

He didn’t know the full extent of it; he knew I cared. Knew I whipped to the core but he didn’t know these dark thoughts because he treated me like an angel to play with.

Or the lion devouring the lamb.

And this lamb wasn’t going to expose the whole truth put in the locked vault of my body, chains around it.

“Such an innocent face…” he rasped out, his pumps into me gaining even more speed suddenly. I could feel the throbbing of his cock start to grow. My eyes were somewhat half-lidded, gazing with everything at him. The shimmer of light illuminated their colors. He loved my eyes for some reason and said they expressed more than I knew. Only at this moment.

My deep subconscious thinking, ‘Yeah, innocent face hiding filthy, dark desires.’

“Darling… you’re so radiant, shining brighter than the beams of sunlight,” another rasp came out as his thumb slipped out of my mouth. My saliva coated it so he placed it near his mouth, his tongue swiping his thumb to taste the wetness I left on him.

He whispered for a moment but loud enough so I could hear, “Actually… if you were the sun itself, I’d keep staring even though I’d go blind. You’re worth looking at more than anything or anyone else.”

He would add in something like that, so randomly—his charming tricks just crashed into the open. Was it cheesy? Maybe. Yet it still made goosebumps appear on my skin and made my face start to heat up. It made me feel like I had a bloody chance, especially with how that voice sounded.

Then he swiped his tongue at it once more.

“Mnn tastes divine…” he murmured like a starved man, getting closer and closer to the edge of his release. He put that hand back on the other side of my hip; both hands firmly pinning me down to his bed more now. I squirmed because I always loved feeling his hands on me, even if they were hurting me a little.

There was a gratification in that pain.

“You are the sweetest fruit I could ever take a bite of…” his face contorting in the most wonderful form of pleasure as he poured out those words, like the silver-tongued devil he was. “You know that, right? How sweet you are… I can’t let anyone else taste it.”

The blood in my veins felt like it was ablaze, scorching my body with the heat he created.

“So warm… God—so tight…” he panted with a whine that ruined me; he struggled to speak a little as his hips were rapidly bucking in. His stamina was something else and the relentlessness of his speed, like he was a creature. But I took him well… a match to him.

My body tensed up at his continuous praises, ready to follow him in the orgasmic bliss that was about to wash over us. He could feel that I was close too as he stayed attuned to me and so, he leaned over while continuing to fuck me until I saw stars. Both of us were on the edge of spilling as his mouth planted onto mine, making this moment intimate. The bed creaked from his force, the sounds of flesh slapping and the noises our mouths made that were now muffled; consuming each other.

More like, him consuming me as I couldn’t fight his dominance.

His kiss almost felt like it was stealing my soul, searching for all the love he could find. Taking in every moan or whine out of me, his tongue plunging into my mouth—seeking the taste of the fruit he had taken bites of before, exploring deeply. Sometimes he’d pull my tongue out a bit so he could suck on it then resume kissing me more sweetly after. That made me feel like I was on cloud nine. That made me writhe underneath him as butterflies filled my stomach with the way he worked on me.

Then the bite would come, nibbling my bottom lip then sinking those teeth harder in, tugging to make tears slip out of me. Tears that I didn’t mind giving because I was in ecstasy.

“Sebastian…” I choked out, barely sounding normal at all and his body shook.

My eyes rolled back as his cock hit that special spot and let go. He moved his face away, letting my bottom lip go—throwing back his head as his jaw clenched & he let out a guttural groan, “fucking hell… f-fuck… love.”

He had exploded inside of me… copious amounts of his cum filling me; his cock twitching in the contentment of his climax. He collapsed on top of me instantly due to the quantity, almost squishing me and keeping that strong grip on my hips. My hands had gripped his arms sometime between it all, now shaking.

‘Love,’ why did he have to call me that now? It wasn’t fair. I cried out loudly, finding my finish as well as my whole body arched into his despite him pressing me into the bed. I think I was convulsing beneath him; more tears streaming down my face.

His hips still stuttered and mindlessly rutted a bit until he was completely spent. My limbs went numb, loosening… the pants of us both being the only sound as silence filled. Rapid breaths as our flesh stuck together, unwilling to separate much at all.

He didn’t speak nor did I. He didn’t move out of me… he would stay there for a while & hide his face in the crook of my neck once he started calming. I would lay there, letting this temporary warmth he gave me… stay with me as if it was all mine. As if we were going to be this way forever. As if HE was mine.

This game we play… he plays, has to come to an end, eventually. I know that. This sweet torment he puts me through. The words that make him sound as if he’s a poet trying to romance me with the intention of what I silently weep for. As if he cares about keeping the heart he has captured.

For a moment, he gazes at me with something unreadable, making my heart feel like it’s swelling. Hope gnaws at me quietly… ‘Why is he looking at me like that?’ but hope was a cruel bitch. Promising falsity in fools like me; I wouldn’t fall for it, I would shake it off and he would look away.

He doesn’t love me. He never will.

No amount of prayers can cure my addiction; as he was the drug that I kept taking. The sweetened poison I kept letting sink into me.

I wasn’t a devil but I was ugly inside too.

But my love for him was real, unyielding. Scorching my soul in its wake, fast to undo me because loving him was agony.

The unspoken words… the words of love, the deepest of my desires, the raw ones that weren’t so innocent—suffocating me each day but very slowly. Making sure I experience the most pitiful of deaths. But he knew because of those smirks and gazes he gave… he knew, deep down. Still, I tried to masquerade as a fool ignorant of my intense feelings. Parading around like he didn’t have me wrapped around his finger, that it wasn’t painfully obvious.

Does he know I’m dying? How many times has he looked at me and not realized, it’s killing me, or maybe he did—I wasn’t a mind reader. Even though I had the opportunity to try. Can that one spell satisfy me?

Maybe he was the beautiful reaper, his actions were the scythe.

Why can’t I understand him?

And why did he look at me now… with mysterious eyes for that moment? Eyes full of something.

I’m in hell but I can’t hate it.

“It’s oddly exquisite.”

I am considering a second fanfic to this; in which it will Sebastian’s POV? But not sure. Would be a new challenge for me…

And yes, this was uploaded on my other (now deleted) account.

Pls correct me if you see errors, ty.

[my-mt-heart]

Idk how to say this but I am not as bothered about whatever is going to transpire between Daryl and Isabelle (bcoz for one thing - we know what is going to happen in the end- and for another - I honestly believe that the male execs are not at all confident abt their vision for these two as they would like to be and the whole thing would prolly boil down to ambiguity and ultimately- it will fall upon the viewers to dissect how Daryl feels - the Caryl fandom especially is really adept at reading into storylines - even stupid ones) None of this is good by any means. It cheapens the integrity of all the characters involved. It blatantly insults and reduces female characters - I believe that Isabelle deserves better. That a story should hold space for multiple female characters. Also - I am worried about putting the fate and the story of one the best female characters on TV (Carol) in the hands of someone who has proven that he can't be trusted to handle them with care. Reading S2 reviews - I am sort of reassured that Carol is treated well enough in the story - which I believe - has a LOT to do with Melissa McBride's input. Going forward - it is going to be more difficult bcoz once we have dealt with old traumas - we do need to evolve these characters and make sure they don't stay stagnant. I don't believe Zabel has the chops to do that.

sorry for that rant. I am just really frustrated.

What I worry about is the way all of this bts stuff amongst the male execs is going to impact the Caryl dynamic. Whatever the antis may think - and while McReedus has insane chemistry - I do believe that the romantic energy is generated between them by a lot of their acting choices (bcoz the underlying story is teasing a romance). What happens to all that when a romance is completely off the table? When AMC has been pushing this friendship narrative down our throats in a very evident bid to do damage control - the insecure/defensive promo that we have been getting last few weeks is proof enough that Caryl was always more than friends?

The problems were already glaringly obvious from the very beginning. the fact that Melissa isn't billed equally for a season where she is proclaimed to be the major focus? It is not even about Caryl going canon for me anymore. I love Melissa and Carol way too much for me to give up yet but I treasure the Caryl bond primarily bcoz they have always been each other's everything. it is truly a bond that evades definition. Both Carol and Daryl doesn't have what they have with each other with anyone. THAT IS A CANON FACT. I don't think I can watch that dynamic that I treasure so much being butchered - s11 was painful enough - I can't go through all of that and more again.

Going to watch s2 and then my further commitment will depend entirely upon how the characters are treated and their dynamic is portrayed?

It sucks that I am dreading watching Carol and Daryl back together on screen.

been here just for a few months but the way AMC has been fumbling with this promo - have you guys always experienced this whiplash or is it a new thing?

I’m going to include big spoilers in my response, so proceed with caution ⚠️

I respect your opinion, but I disagree with you on the point about Daryl’s and Isabelle’s arc. It seems like the male EPs (Zabel, Nicotero, Gimple) are overly confident that an explicit romance between their male hero and a younger blonde nun who accused Daryl of being like his abusive father just for trying to go home to his family will attract a larger male audience and they aren’t sparing any feelings with it because we aren’t their ideal audience anyway. To them, we’re just a bunch of “hysterical” shippers whose POV’s don’t matter and we can just take their crumbs. AMC is a bit more complicated, but I’ll get to them later.

Daryl and the nun kiss in 202, so there’s little to no room for us to dissect how Daryl is feeling. Isabelle’s death is the furthest thing from a relief because 1) it reduces her character down to man pain like you said and 2) from what I’m gathering, it completely overshadows Caryl’s reunion and then their entire arc. We get another hug that does absolutely nothing to elevate their relationship and then Carol has to face that Daryl didn’t need her to rescue him because he found a new family and become his emotionally supportive friend to help him through his grief of a lost love interest he’s known for a few months. It almost feels like it’s going to be a retread of Beth’s death, only worse. We know how Greg Nicotero views both of those relationships and to be blunt, the man needs to stop projecting his creepy fetishes onto Daryl and making it our problem 🤢

The way the story is framed, it’s not even about Caryl at all. They’re the relationship we’re the most invested in and yet all the emotional weight is given to a highly problematic relationship that developed over a dozen ish short episodes (compared to Caryl’s decade+ of emotional depth) and it’s all for nothing too. Zabel just resets Daryl like the hokey network procedural writer he is. And Caryl fans are rewarded for their years-long loyalty by getting more ambiguous subtext to analyze? Really?

I think you’re spot on about Melissa though. The reason she’s the bright spot of the season, the reason Carol’s individual arc feels true, and her spiritual connection to Daryl stays alive is because Melissa influenced all of that. She’s shown us time and time again that she understands her character so deeply and respects her fans. It really breaks my heart because I think she had a beautiful story in mind for Carol and she deserves all the support in the world, but as I’ve said many times, if damage is done to the character who has been written as her soulmate for over a decade, damage is also done to her. And I can’t watch that. I can’t watch the destruction of my favorite characters and my favorite relationship and put money in AMC’s pockets for gaslighting me. Retconning Caryl’s relationship into a platonic friendship is their way of protecting themselves from backlash. “Daryl isn’t emotionally cheating because he and Carol have always been besties?” “We didn’t mislead you. We told you they were friends, so you dumb shippers are doing this to yourselves. Please watch our slop anyways ✌️” They’re even trying to shift responsibility to Melissa by making her answer the shipping questions despite the fact that it’s Daryl’s arc throwing a wrench in everything and I expect that to continue at NYCC/Palyfest. It’s completely unethical and it’s backfiring.

Zabel cannot write for Daryl and Carol. He keeps showing us that he doesn’t understand their bond nor does he value it. A couple of the reviews mentioned it felt like Carol was shoehorned into certain aspects of the story, which tracks with what I already knew—that he and the other EPs think she’s hindering the story they want to tell about men doing manly things. That’s why they try so hard to challenge her significance to Daryl’s story and that is not going to change just because they’re moving to another location. Somebody like that should not have power to decide her trajectory. Fuck whatever he has planned for S3. I don’t want it. I still want Caryl and I still want to see them get the stories they deserve, but that’s only going to happen if we get a new showrunner who respects them and respects their fans. In case it needs to be said, Gimple is not that guy either (he can fake his enthusiasm on SM all he wants 🖕🖕🖕). A complete rebranding of the show to something that honors the characters and gives Melissa her dues (equal billing, title, etc) is the only way I’m tuning in now🤷🏻‍♀️ I don’t have the emotional capacity to sit through S2, but I will be here, speaking up, to make sure Melissa gets all the necessary praise and those assholes can’t blame her if the show tanks.

I’ve only been here a few years and there’s been a lot of turn over at AMC even just in that time (I kid you not, all of our problems can be traced back to Josh Sapan leaving. He loved Caryl and Melissa). That being said, I cannot for the life of me understand why any of the guys over there (even the misogynistic ones) would approve of the Daryl/Isabelle arc after the PR disaster that Leah caused not even that long ago and at least for that, the arc tied back to romantic Caryl and we weren’t subjected to any uncomfortable physical intimacy. Why the fuck would they make the same mistake? Why the fuck do they have to spend more time cleaning up messes than avoiding the mess altogether at every fucking opportunity they had (and they had a lot). I just don’t get it. And I’m so tired of taking the abuse.

[atriza]

Always Mine

Yandere Five Hargreeves x Reader

Summary: Five Hargreeves is portrayed as emotionally cold and calculating, but his feelings for you have become an obsession. What begins as intrigue toward your intelligence and unique presence turns into dark possessiveness. Five struggles with jealousy as you interact with his siblings, believing only he can truly understand and protect you. In a tense confrontation, he expresses his obsessive need to keep you to himself, insisting that you belong with him. His possessiveness intensifies as he refuses to give you a choice, making it clear that he won’t let anyone take you away from him, whether you want it or not.

Word Count: 863 words.

**Content Warning:**

This story contains dark and potentially distressing themes, including obsessive behavior, violence, manipulation, and psychological distress. It portrays a relationship that is unhealthy and toxic, where one character exhibits controlling and possessive tendencies that lead to extreme actions.

If you are sensitive to these themes or find them triggering, please consider skipping this story.

Have Fun Reading!

Five Hargreeves had never considered himself the emotional type. His siblings often called him cold, calculating, or indifferent. But no one knew the storm that raged within him when it came to you. It wasn't that he wanted to feel like this — no, it was just something that happened, slowly, quietly, and before he even realized it, you became his entire world.

At first, it was subtle. You were just another variable in his equation for survival, someone who happened to be near during his travels through time. He appreciated your intelligence and wit, a companion who could keep up with him. That was rare. He liked rare things. You were different, and that intrigued him.

But soon, intrigue turned to something far darker.

He couldn’t stand seeing you with anyone else. Every laugh you shared with Diego or the soft smiles you gave Klaus made his blood boil. Why were they getting your attention? Why weren’t you looking at him? He was the one who knew you better than anyone. They couldn’t protect you. They didn’t understand you. But he did.

One day, when you were sitting quietly reading a book, Five appeared by your side, as he always did. His presence was like a shadow—imposing, intense, but oddly comforting in a way that only Five could be. You looked up and smiled at him.

“What is it, Five?”

“Why do you spend so much time with them?” His voice was low, deceptively calm, though there was an edge to it, something unnerving.

You blinked, slightly taken aback. “Them? You mean your siblings?”

“Yes,” he said, his gaze never leaving yours. His green eyes were sharp, like they could slice through you if they wanted to. “You’re always with them. Laughing. Smiling. They’re not your family.”

“Well, neither are you, technically,” you teased, trying to lighten the mood. But the cold expression on his face made your smile falter.

“They don’t deserve you,” he muttered, stepping closer. “They don’t see you the way I do.”

“Five…” you said cautiously, but he was already standing directly in front of you, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from his body. His hands found your wrists, holding them firmly but not painfully.

“You belong with me.” His voice was barely a whisper, but it sent chills down your spine. The possessiveness in his tone was unmistakable. It wasn’t just affection or friendship. This was something much deeper. Darker. Dangerous.

You swallowed, trying to pull back, but his grip tightened ever so slightly.

“You don’t need anyone else,” he continued, his lips now so close to your ear that his breath tickled your skin. “They don’t understand you. They’ll only hurt you. But I won’t. I’ll protect you from them. From everyone.”

“Five, this isn’t… you’re being intense,” you managed to say, your voice trembling slightly.

“Intense?” He chuckled softly, though there was no humor in it. “No, I’m being honest. I’ve seen the future. I know how this ends. You’ll be mine, always. No one else can have you.”

You shivered at the finality in his words. It wasn’t a question or a request. It was a statement, like he was declaring it to the universe itself.

“Five, I don’t—”

He cut you off, pressing his forehead against yours, his eyes locking onto yours with a ferocity that made it impossible to look away. “Don’t fight it. I’ve waited too long. Been through too much to lose you now. And I won’t let anyone take you from me.”

You tried to pull away again, but he didn’t let go. His fingers wrapped tighter around your wrists as if daring you to resist.

“I’m not giving you a choice,” he said, his voice a low growl. “You’re mine. You’ve always been mine. And I’ll make sure it stays that way.”

You could feel your heart racing, your mind swirling with confusion and fear. This wasn’t the Five you knew — or maybe it was. Maybe this was the real Five, the one who had been hiding beneath the calm, collected exterior.

“I won’t let anyone hurt you,” he murmured, almost soothingly, as if he genuinely believed that what he was saying was for your own good. “I’ll keep you safe. Forever.”

As his grip loosened ever so slightly, you realized there was no reasoning with him. Not now. Not ever. Five Hargreeves wasn’t someone who let go of what he wanted. And what he wanted was you.

Always. Forever.

Whether you wanted it or not.

[secretwhumplair]

Changing season

1,083 words | No Warrior (sequel to Quiet)

Content | Implied fear of abandonment, mention of death

Notes | Time marches on! Traditions must be followed!

Taglist | @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @castielamigos-whump-side-blog​​ @whump-me-all-night-long​​​​ @whumpadump1939​​ @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight

@whumpzone​​ @angel-stars​​ @kixngiggles​​ @whumpsy-daisies @yet-another-heathen

@rosesareviolentlyread @cupcakes-and-pain @hollowtreesinhollowwoods @pleasancies @much-ado-about-whumping​​

@nine-tailed-whump​​ @whump-em​​​ @itsleighlove​​ @newbornwhumperfly​​​ @tears-and-lilies

@deluxewhump @whump-cravings @wolfeyedwitch @melancholy-in-the-morning @neverthelass

@whumpsday @silent-orchid-lady @everynameistakencarrots

Winter, as it always did, passed, and Runar was faced with yet another difficult confession.

He knew he wanted to let Yves know on his own terms this time, and it was bound to come out at some point. So one day, when they were taking another walk along the cliffs in the now-shallow snow, the seagulls crying above, he charged forward.

Yves looked peaceful, standing on the cliff and looking out across the waves below. It had been a quiet few months. Things had almost returned to normal — Yves had even returned to seeking comfort in his arms after his nightmares, something that made Runar’s heart stumble.

But now…

»I’m going to sail again this summer. If the weather is good, we will set out next month.«

Yves turned to face him, but remained silent, his face nearly blank, so he pressed on, »The offer stands: if you want to — go back,« he couldn’t call it go home, »we’ll take you. But I don’t think you want that.« He almost regretted the words, but it felt wrong to leave them unsaid — make it sound like it was Yves who had voiced any desire to leave the place he had… made his home?

Runar so hoped that was true. Gods, he didn’t want Yves to leave, even… even just like this.

Yves shook his head; a small smile appeared on his lips, but it was gone in an instant. »You’ll leave? For how long?«

»A few months. We’ll return come fall, when the sea is too dangerous to sail. Probably early September.«

Yves scrutinized him; his sweet, sharp eyes seemed to look right through him. He had come such a long way from the meek little thing who could barely glimpse at him. »You’ll fight, won’t you? You might not come back.«

Runar stayed silent for a moment. But even the children old enough to ask these sorts of questions weren’t told comforting lies — much less was he going to play pretend to an adult man who already knew the answer. »Yes, that’s the nature of it.«

»I want to come with you.« The words came with a sudden fierceness that stunned Runar. »I can help.«

»You…« Runar had tried his best to convince Yves that he was brave, that he could fight, but he also knew he was not ready. He’d barely started training. He wouldn’t be ready by summer. How could he make Yves understand that without confirming his doubts about himself? He was surprised Yves even raised the possibility. He, Runar, hadn’t even considered it, certain that Yves was a long way from feeling strong and confident enough for it — if ever he would.

And truly, he was taken aback that Yves would even want to fight, as if his hesitancy to admit he could might have another reason. Perhaps he had been too comfortable in seeing Yves as just someone to be protected. He shouldn’t have, really — he had proven time and again he was able to fight, and this was just a different kind. That was a part of… but he didn’t allow himself to finish the thought.

Yves was still looking him frankly in the face. »What if you don’t come back? What will I do then?«

Runar shook his head. »You’ll weave. You’ll live here. My family will take care of you, if you struggle. Which,« he couldn’t keep his voice from softening, »I don’t see a reason why you would.«

Yves scrutinized him further, then turned away again. »I don’t want you to…« He left the sentence unfinished.

»I’ll be doing my very best, I swear.« The light-heartedness he tried to infuse in the words was dampened a bit by the serious concern on Yves face. He was worried for Runar. »I’ve been fighting for six summers. Most I got were a few scratches, if that helps.«

Yves thoughtfully shook his head, then looked at Runar again. »You’d take me back?«

»If you want to.«

This time, the head shake was more decisive. »I don’t know what for,« Yves whispered, the waves below almost drowning out his voice.

»But you want to come?« Runar asked quietly.

A soundless sigh let Yves’ chest collapse. »No, I suppose not.«

But he looked up at Runar again with bright, expectant eyes, so Runar explained, »You might, one day. But you’ve only just started practicing your fighting skills.«

Yves snorted and turned away. »No, it’s fine. I know I could never fight with you. I don’t know why you keep saying that.«

Which Runar felt was an unfair assessment. They hadn’t talked about it in months; they’d just continued Yves’ practice — even in the awkward days after Runar’s stupid confession, when it almost became a comfort for both of them, a ritual of interaction where truly nothing had changed. Yves’ condition continued to improve, strength and speed recovering with the regular workout; it was true he would never be as strong as most of the warriors, but he was a quick little thing.

But they hadn’t talked about any of it.

»It’s… it’s up to you.«

»No, it’s not.«

»At any rate, training has been doing you good. If you want, you can join the others in their classes, you’re more than ready for that. Most of them are a little younger than you, but…« Runar shrugged. It would be obvious to anyone why Yves was with the beginners; nothing weird about it.

Yves threw him a glance. After a moment’s consideration, he quietly answered, »Yes. I suppose I would like that.«

»Good. I’ll talk to Agnarr, he trains the-«, he almost said »whelps,« like they always did, »-the beginners.«

»Hm.« Yves was looking out over the sea again, almost as if searching for a ship on the horizon.

Which maybe he would be doing.

»I’ll be glad to come back to you. And to know that you’re safe,« Runar said quietly. »But they need a healer.«

Yves nodded without looking at him. »Yes, they need a healer.«

»I’ll… if you will, I’ll tell you how to take care of the garden over the summer. So far my family has been doing it, but now that you’re here…«

»I’ll do it.« The answer was as quick as Runar expected — Yves always wanting to make himself useful.

»Thank you.«

Yves turned around again, pinning him with a look. »I want you to come back.«

Runar couldn’t promise it, he couldn’t; but he managed a smile. »I’m looking forward to it.«

[lightlycareless]

Because everyone asked (I mean, kind of, I for sure wanted to hehe) here is the continuation to this small piece :>!!

Warnings: none. your family is overprotective of you. overall fluff.

Happy reading!!

You knew it was coming, the moment you saw Satoru and Suguru frantically rush out the classroom door and disappear into the hallways with your secret, you knew it was only a matter of time before either your siblings, or your father, called you to discuss the elephant in the room.

And yet, you still hoped they’d let this slide. Prayed that somehow this would be forgotten, just like everything else that usually pertained to you—in true Satoru fashion— and let you return to the safe haven you’ve found in Naoya…

Whatever you desired was instantly thrown out the window the moment you received the following message from your father.

“Please come home this weekend, there is much to discuss.”

Oh, how you wanted the earth to simply swallow you whole. Lighting to strike you, or… just about anything really, to avoid this situation.

But alas, Friday was fast approaching, and when you were just mere minutes away from joining your siblings for the ride back home, you began to anxiously prepare to face the consequences of your actions—all unthinkable scenarios soon crossing your mind.

“Let me go with you.” Naoya would insist once more, virtually glued to his phone in case you needed anything. “I can talk to your father if need be.”

“As much as I want to… I feel like this is something I need to do on my own.”

“Y/N…”

“In case anything happens, I… I want you to know I love you.” You confessed. “You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me, and I will always cherish our short moments together.”

Naoya swallows, hating the lump forming in his throat, the way his heart sank to his stomach at the very likely situation of never seeing you again after today.

But just like you, he doesn’t lose hope. Not yet—for he still counts on fate to keep the two together; after all, his feelings for you were too pure, genuine, ones he never thought himself capable of harboring.

That must be something… right?

For Naoya at least, it does. And he doesn’t know what he’ll do if he loses you.

“Hey… dad.” It was the fateful moment, uttered the moment you walked into his studio, quietly sliding the door close behind you and making way to the seat in front of his desk, where you’d find both your father and siblings seemingly scrutinizing your presence: the obvious disapproval of your relationship with Naoya.

“Hello, Y/N.” he responds, tone void of the usual enthusiasm that followed. Today you weren’t to talk with the chirpy, goofy father you knew.

This time you’d face the strict side of him, the leader of the clan.

And that made you feel even tinier.

“I guess we’re going straight to it… right?” you ask.

Eiichi presses his lips together—yes.

“Fa—father, I didn’t mean to—”

“I’m not going to deny the disappointment I felt upon hearing you had a boyfriend, especially after you promised to only focus on your studies.” Your father interrupts, his words chipping at your poor heart. “And of all people, the heir of the Zen’in just had to be the one you were dating.”

Feeling as the worst daughter ever, your gaze lowered to the floor, hoping that by evading his eyes his reprimands would be a fraction more tolerable—but it would be for naught, since the damage was already done: you’ve lost his trust, and thus, Naoya.

There was nothing else to say, you might as well voice your regrets.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper, tears soon dampen your cheeks. “I’m sorry dad for disappointing you—”

“…But what hurt me more… was the fact that you didn’t trust me enough to tell me.” Eiichi reveals with a sniffle that shows he too had begun to cry.

“D—Dad—”

“…Does he make you happy? Beyond the rumors that plague him and his family, have you truly found happiness by his side?”

“I… I have.” You finally confess, fidgeting with the edges of your sleeve. “He makes me really happy, like I’ve never felt before.”

“Then that’s all I need to know.”

“Wait, what?! That’s all you’re going to say, father?!” Hinata, your sister, is the first to cut the tension between the two with a loud shriek; clearly expecting a type of fight, some resistance for a relationship she considered unjustifiable in so many levels—you were far too good for someone like him! Surely her dad could see that?! “It’s—It’s Naoya for god’s sake! From that wretched Zen’in clan!”

“I know; but at the same time, this is Y/N’s decision to take. And if she’s happy, who am I to stop her?” He answers, much to your sister’s growing frustration. “I know all about being in love and fighting the odds to be with the one you cherish!”

Hinata scowls, somewhat disgusted by the comparison. Naoya could never…

“Though I am a bit upset that you didn’t tell me anything, pumpkin! Why didn’t you?”

“I… I guess I was… afraid.” You swallow, doing your best to wipe the tears from your face and compose your voice. “I’m aware of what people think of Naoya, so I… thought it would be better to keep it… a… secret…”

“But from me?!” Eiichi cries. “We swore to always tell each other everything, remember?!”

A promise made when you were very, very young; so much so, you probably didn’t even think much of it, just wanting to follow your father’s lead and continue doing whatever it is that you did back then…

But to him, it was a pact signed with blood (dramatic much?) and such, your secrecy hurt him deeply.

“I still don’t trust Naoya.” Hinata quietly adds.

“You ought to trust Y/N.” Ren, your brother, adds. “She wouldn’t have lasted as long if she wasn’t happy with him.”

“Wait—how do you know how long—?” you blink.

“You knew?!” Eiichi gasps once more, betrayed yet again by another one of his children. Has he done something to earn their mistrust?! “Did everyone here know of this and decided not to tell me??”

“I didn’t know!” Hinata cried. “How did you find out, Ren?!”

“It was written all over Y/N’s face—”

You, your sister, and father looked at him as if he’d grown a second head, making him roll his eyes and sigh.

“Really? Did none of you notice how chirpy she became? Or how flustered she’d return after getting lunch?” Ren raises an eyebrow, Hinata shakes her head, you simply… blush, embarrassed that your careful attempts to keep your relationship a secret were not discreet at all. “I sometimes even wonder where your head is, Hinata… It was written all over her face!”

“I mean, she’s always like that, right, father???”

Eiichi remains silent, the subtle admission that he agreed with Ren’s observations. The signs of an infatuated girl were there: from how he’d hear you talk “to yourself” late at night, to always keeping close to the phone at home just in case one of your friends from school called…

The signs were always there, he was just too blind to see them, perhaps out of his disposition to see the little girl he always considered you to be—you were his youngest, after all.

And yet, he couldn’t blame you; for he had been in your shoes too, acting the same way when meeting your mother, if not worse, for his relationship became the talk of the town as soon as everyone caught wind of it. You had managed to keep it a secret at least!

Eiichi also knew that a part of you, beneath the playful, carefree child you always were, desired to find the love of your life, a hopeless romantic naturally inspired by the devoted relationship he had with Tomoko, and the all-around loving relationship they all had as a family.

Thus, it was highly unrealistic of him to expect you to only focus on your career when he knew of this side of you, or when he also hoped that by enrolling in jujutsu high you’d find someone responsible, hardworking, and of course dedicated; someone that would provide you with a good life and everything else you desired, as a future partner.

Perhaps most of his shock (if not all) came from the fact that he never imagined those shoes to be filled by Naoya himself! The snobbish heir of the Zen’in, a clan most would want to steer away from when money wasn’t involved.

A kid he always knew as keen to torment others, not cherish them!

And yet, here you were, seemingly enamored with him; and by the looks of it, the feeling was mutual…

Still, he worries. He has to, it’s his job as your father. To think of the worst things that could happen to you and do everything in his power to prevent them.

But Ren’s words held some truth behind them: if Naoya wasn’t of your liking, if he hadn’t been what you imagined… then this train of thought wouldn’t be happening at all. Your father likes to believe—no, he knows that you’re sensible enough to do the right thing.

And if that is to be by his side… then he’ll support till the end of the road.

With a few requirements, of course.

“Does that mean… I’m not in trouble anymore?” you murmur, your soft voice making Eiichi’s heart squeeze.

“Oh, you were never in trouble, Y/N!” He gasps, quick to stand from his seat and take you into his arms, easing your anxieties into embarrassment given the way you soon became overwhelmed by his gestures.

“Dad—that’s—you’re choking me!”

“I’m so sorry for frightening you, pumpkin. I was just worried that you weren’t happy with him. But you don’t know how glad I am that you’ve found someone to share your life with.” Eiichi adds. “…And I’m so sorry that I made you think you were disappointment—you are not; you could never be!”

“Dad…” your voice trembles, hugging him tightly in return.

“But I still have to meet him, Y/N. You have to bring him home if you want this relationship to continue.” Eiichi soon warns. “And no doing anything of that nature until you’re much older! Or at least safely, I wouldn’t want you to pause your stud—”

“Oh my god, dad! Can you not say that in front of my siblings?!” You shriek, whatever embarrassment you felt before was nothing compared to this. “We barely do anything…”

“As it should be, you’re far too young to be thinking about anything else!”

“I’m sure you were a saint, father.” Ren snickers, his jest going completely over Eiichi’s head.

“I was! I did everything to win your mother’s heart, but always careful enough to never offend her or her family!”

“Woosh…” Ren laughs, finding his father’s naivety hilarious.

“Well, whatever! That doesn’t mean I’m all too happy about it…” Hinata crosses her arms, pouting. “Not when he hasn’t even formally introduced himself to us! I can’t believe I got to hear about it from Satoru and Suguru first!”

“Can he come over today? No—he must come over today! I have to talk to him before anything else—"

“Wait, dad he—I can’t invite him over today! He’s going to freak out! I need to prepare him, you know…?”

“Prepare him? Don’t tell me that jerk gets nervous.” Hinata says.

“Hinata, we need to respect Y/N’s boyfriend.” Eiichi defends Naoya, making Hinata squirm out of disgust. “But fine, I’ll give him a week to prepare his speech as to why I should let him date my adorable daughter!”

“Dad, you’re going to scare him!” you fret.

“Then he better come prepared.”

Well, it’s good to know that at the end of the day, you never really had anything to worry about—your father was just concerned about you, as he always was, but still approved of your relationship with Naoya. Somewhat, he has yet to be fully convinced that Naoya is indeed the best match for you, and considering his overprotective nature, seems like your boyfriend will need to do so for the rest of his life…

But Naoya would much rather take on this than the notion of losing you.

Didn’t stop his blood from running cold when you eventually told him, probably the most nerve-wracking thing he’s had to prepare for in his life, but he still pushed forward—because for you he’ll go to the end of the world, just to keep you by his side.

Naoya meeting your father is happening too :)))))) keep him in your prayers.

[emmyrosee]

I’m gonna level with you (feel free to skip lmao-)

My pieces haven’t been doing well. Not bad, but not as well as they could’ve been doing. I think the actual quality of them has slipped, and while I try to get it back up, I think I’m going to close requests and just focus on posting what I’ve got in the drafts and inbox and seeing what happens.

I hate that I’ve let the numbers dictate how I’ve been feeling, because this whole thing is a simulation; none of what happens on here is real. I’m beyond grateful when someone takes the time to interact with, let alone read my content- please don’t get that twisted. Just while I’m trying to figure out things, what I could be doing better, times that seem convenient, etc., your patience is all I ask.

Much love, and thank you for being here 🩷

[uhbasicallyjustmilex]

oh my god oh my god oh my GODDDDDD i can’t BELIEVE i found these on my little rainy october thrift shop wander this morning. like, one would have been more MORE enough. but both?? at once??? i am quite simply floating and may never touch back down to earth

[alluralater]

hey everyone, i won’t be as active for a while. got home last night super late after being on the road for 20 some odd hours. dealing with some family things and as an older sister, my priority of taking care of my siblings comes first before anything else. being on here is amazing for me but i don’t think i’ll have much time for it. reminder to please treat those in your life who are battling addiction with patience and care. i lost my older brother (sweetest person i’ve ever known and he remained that way up until his last night) to suicide and alcoholism, trauma and ptsd, depression and his feelings of hopelessness. talk with the people you care about. another of my siblings is dealing with the same and i refuse to let it escalate to such a terrifying end twice in less than a fucking year. remind the people you care about that there are beautiful things to live for. show them kindness and love. there is all kinds of misinformation out there but know this, you can make a difference for someone. don’t let them suffer in silence.

[theswedishpajas]

The man truly can’t take a genuine compliment 🙄

[finniestoncrane]

said to my counsellor that i wasnt built for friendship because everyone always eventually just. stops speaking to me and she went “ok why do you think that is?” and then when i finished my dumb sad list she went “ok so maybe you aren’t good at friendship” and i. have never regretted spending £50 more in my life lol