Tumgik
#This is in the to write pile
syea-say · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media
The finale of a never-ending masquerade.
AQ 4.2 spoilers.
6K notes · View notes
comradekatara · 6 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
2 kinds of grad students (both massive nerds)
6K notes · View notes
Text
got a worm nibbling my brain. can someone help me find a piece of obscure media?
webcomic/indie comic from the 2010s. basically a sci-fi short story about a young girl (with red hair?) who was being raised by scientists as part of an experiment. she receives a haircut/has her head shaved, in preparation for her annual brain scan/testing. it is revealed that while her body is human, her "brain" is artificial, made of computer implants throughout her skull and spine. at some point her biological mother (also a scientist on the same campus?) encounters her and is repulsed, viewing her as a machine who has murdered her daughter.
it was very poignant and it bruised my heart and i can NOT find it anywhere
3K notes · View notes
poorly-drawn-mdzs · 8 months
Note
I ABSOLUTELY ADORE YOUR SQQ HE LOOKS SO FUCKINH DONE WITH LIFE
Tumblr media
The recipe for SQQ is: calm on the outside, screaming on the inside.
1K notes · View notes
chadleys · 8 months
Text
›› pairing: astarion x reader
›› wordcount: 1.9k
›› genre: established relationship, smut, fluff.
›› rating: 18+, mdni
›› synopsis: got a request for pregnant tav and astarion taking place after the events of the game. this is that.
›› warnings: pregnant!reader, impreg, biting, mentions of blood drinking.
the grounds of the manse are still, quiet, as you examine yourself in the full-length mirror by the window. cloud cover has been rolling in all day; a storm is brewing. you wish it would just arrive already — you’ve always loved the rain. and any excuse to spend the afternoon in bed with your beloved while rainfall pounds at the windows is a good one to you.
you turn this way and that, examining the subtle swell of your belly. that’s not the only change you’ve noticed, of course; your hips and thighs are a shade larger, your breasts more plump, arms slightly too thick to fit into most of your tunics anymore.
at the moment a sheer, lacy negligee drapes from your shoulders, the bottom hem barely brushing the backs of your thighs.
just as you start to grimace and turn from the mirror, a knock at the door distracts you.
❝ is my love decent? ❞ astarion’s dulcet tones make your legs quake and a tenuous bout of gooseflesh prick your arms.
❝ as though you’d care either way, ❞ you purr. a moment ago, you were desperate to get away from the reflection in the mirror. now, you stand your ground, waiting for him to enter.
which he does, beautiful body sliding between door and frame as his crimson gaze finds you. he sighs, wistfully, and his bare feet make quiet shuffling noises along the hard wood floor as he approaches. ❝ what can i say other than that you’re right? you are utterly indecent and i have to be honest. i prefer you this way … ❞ those last words spoken right into your ear send a shiver down your spine, your lashes fluttering before flying open again.
this. this is why you so suddenly changed your mind about abandoning your post in front of the mirror. it’s been enchanted. ever since your return to baldur’s gate, both your and astarion’s fortunes have vastly improved. not only monetarily, though it’s certainly been fun to watch your coffers steadily rise and eventually overflow. but also your general quality of life; not only do you have a special midwife who’s been helping to check on the babe from time to time, making the periodic blood meals it requires more palatable for you, but every mirror in the house has been magicked to be able to show a vampire’s reflection.
❝ admiring yourself? ❞ astarion’s voice is unbearably low and intoxicating in your ear. you nearly fall into his arms, as one wraps itself around your waist, hand cupping your belly. ❝ … i know i am. ❞
your hands come to brace themselves on astarion’s forearms, running back and forth, though you’re comforting yourself more than you are him. ❝ just the opposite, ❞ you all but spit. ❝ i don’t look like myself anymore. these changes, they … they disgust me. ❞
suddenly, you’re being whirled, losing your footing. but astarion is there, hands on your biceps, drawing you close and pressing his mouth fiercely to yours.
you melt, fingers clutching at the collar of his tunic, trying to pull him impossibly closer.
just when you think he’s sucked all the air from your lungs, he presses you back and allows you to breathe again.
❝ i don’t ever want to hear you talking about yourself like that again. and i do mean ever. ❞ gentle fingers swipe a lock of hair back from your forehead. ❝ you’re carrying my child; how could you possibly be disgusting? ❞
at a loss for words, you let him wheel you slowly back around to face the mirror. chin hooked over your shoulder, his scorching carmine gaze roves over you. slow hands part the lapels of your negligee, traipsing over all of your newest curves. ❝ look at this beautiful body ... ❞ his voice is low and hot, splashing molten waves over your entire body. ❝ and it's all mine. ❞
in one swift move, he sinks his teeth into your neck, making you moan and squirm against him. he doesn't drink from you anymore, not when you need all the energy you have to keep up with the life growing inside of you. but it's enough for him to continue to mark you, never letting your bites heal fully before he leaves more.
❝ astarion ... ❞ his name is a plea on your lips as you lean back into him, a solid pressure against your back.
❝ i can smell you, ❞ is his response, one hand traveling steadily downward, ❝ getting so wet for me. it happens more often now that you're pregnant, have you noticed? i certainly have. ❞
you want to tell him that it's not like the two of you weren't having sex every single night before. but now you're having sex every morning, too. and afternoon. and evening …
instead, you swallow thickly and swerve onto your other path of thinking. the path that focuses on the heat between your legs, thighs already sticking together as astarion slips a hand between them and cups your sex.
❝ please tell me you were wearing this — ❞ he plucks a piece of flimsy fabric from the negligee between his teeth. ❝ — for easy access? ❞
❝ of course. ❞ it hadn’t even crossed your mind.
astarion releases a shaky breath and steps away from you. you miss him immediately. ❝ get on the bed. ❞ normally he would throw you onto it, bthe two of you are taking every precaution for the baby.
climbing onto the soft bedspread of your giant four-poster bed, you allow astarion to come after you, crawling, hunting you as if you were his prey. the softest, sweetest prey he’d ever encounter.
legs spread, you welcome him between them, where his hardness presses — warm and insistent — against your wetness. but he still has his breeches on.
you hook a finger into the waist and tug, letting the fabric snap back against his alabaster skin. ❝ these, i think, need to come off. ❞
❝ why, i do believe you’re right. ❞ using his roguelike reflexes, the trousers are gone before you know it and his erection is jutting up, thick and hard, against his stomach. the sight is enough to make you salivate.
normally you’d put it in your mouth straight away, but pregnancy has made you overly sensitive to nausea and you really don’t want to chance ruining this lovely afternoon. so you pull him down by his tunic and kiss him again, your tongues slipping, dancing, enjoying themselves.
one of astarion’s hands has found itself down between your legs again, and he parts from you to whisper, ❝ you’re so wet … i think i could just … ❞
he trails off, and the head of his cock finds your entrance. gentle fingers splay your lips apart and he guides himself right into you, gliding easily along your slick walls. this is not the first time you’ve gotten wet so easily for him and certainly won’t be the last.
you pull your legs back, hooking your arms around your knees to hold yourself open for him. you’ve made this exact shape with your body many times before, and not always in a bed as comfortable as this one. but the extra weight you’ve put on makes holding the position a touch more difficult this time, and one of your legs slips from your grasp, knocking astarion hard in the side.
❝ gods, sorry! ❞ you reach for him, to make sure he’s okay, but the vampire catches your hand easily and pins it to the bedclothes, fingers twined with yours.
❝ never apologize to me, my love. you have no need to. you could ravish me, and still i would thank you. ❞
the thought makes your toes curl; being with astarion hasn’t always been easy, especially when you first met. but now … especially now that you’re pregnant, his desire to dote upon you has grown immeasurably. you want nothing more than to bask in the intensity of his gaze forevermore … and to give birth to his child, of course, but that is still months off.
❝ i still c-can’t believe, ❞ you stutter as he begins to thrust, ❝ you actually managed to get me pregnant. ❞
astarion covers your swollen belly with one of his perfect hands, and both of you watch your breasts sway as he fucks you. ❝ my dear, i was so full of your blood that night i’d be surprised if you don’t give birth to twins. ❞
the thought makes your head swim, your legs clench around his waist, drawing him in, wanting him so much deeper.
neither of you had strictly known that was how it worked; that the more blood a vampire had drunk, the more virile they’d become. not until conducting some research and investigation after you’d mysteriously missed your cycle that month.
needless to say, however, both of you were beyond thrilled.
❝ careful, ❞ you jest, with your legs still tight around him, urging him on. ❝ don’t want to poke the baby’s eye out. ❞
astarion chuckles, leaning down to lay a chiding bite to your chest, fully on display now that the opposites sides of your negligee had fallen completely open. ❝ i don’t claim to be an expert, but i don’t think that’s how it works, love. ❞
as if to prove his point, his hips start to piston in and out of you. harder, faster, astarion holds your gaze as he all but begins to plow you.
pregnancy has made you sensitive in ways you couldn’t believe were possible. the ridges of his fat cock dragging against your tight walls make the room go fuzzy, the bed canopy above you shifting and twinkling like a sky full of stars.
your hands are in his hair, tugging, drawing a hiss from him as he tosses his head back against your ministrations.
he growls, tight and low, that he wants to see you cum, wants to see you lose yourself for him. and you can’t help but obey.
your entire body seizes, toes curling in the sheets, and astarion fucks you through it with harsh, demanding thrusts. you’re so wet that his cock makes sticky sweet noises every time he enters you.
it takes him no time at all, after that, to finish for you. this time you pull your legs back as far as possible and tell him to cum as deep inside of you as he can, wishing to every god you believe in that he could get you pregnant again now, fuck another baby into you.
the one already inside of you is demanding enough, but you can’t help but marinate on astarion’s earlier words: what if you’re having twins? the thought fills you with inexplicable joy, heart pounding big and broad in your chest.
astarion sighs and slips to the side of you, sliding down to place his cheek against your belly. ❝ see? i don’t think he minds at all … ❞
❝ oh? and how do you know it’s a he? ❞ you can barely catch your breath to ask, fingers brushing hair back from astarion’s sweaty forehead.
❝ i don’t. but if you have a boy, you can be guaranteed i’ll be getting you pregnant again as fast as i can, so that he’ll have a sister to keep him in line. ❞
2K notes · View notes
fireheartwraith · 6 months
Text
I need you all to understand that because there’s a city in Brazil called CHRISTMAS (aka Natal because Portuguese) and another one called BETHLEHEM (aka Belém), as a kid I thought JESUS IS BRAZILIAN
798 notes · View notes
Text
Okay so this rant is brought to you by this gorgeous art by @builtintripping what the fuck dude you hit me right in the heart.
Because it’s just. We spend all this time thinking about how affected and hurt Crowley would be after the final fifteen, and yes, of course he would be -- one look at his face tells you he doesn't think he'll ever come back from this, but fucking-
Aziraphale. What about Aziraphale?
Imagine how hard it would be to tell your best friend in the entire universe that you have to go. You have to, you have no choice, coffee or death — leave or death — and you both know it.
He tells you he loves you, asks you to run away with him again, and he has no idea how much you want to. No idea. You want him so badly it hurts, and on some level he knows that much, but he also knows you have to leave.
He knows, but he’s still desperate.
He looks at you with broken eyes and pleads at you with a broken voice. You put that pain in his face.
He kisses you, and it changes nothing except how much it will hurt you when he leaves the bookshop.
How hard would that be? To keep yourself from melting into his touch. To shoulder his confession and harden your heart, because it’s coffee or death - leave or death. How hard would that be, to keep a brave face against your abuser when the one person who has ever managed to convince you that you are more than what they say you are, is gone.
How much would that hurt?
Anyways love the art @builtintripping thanks for facilitating my rambling-
377 notes · View notes
advicemp3 · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
(— THE WATER LAPS AT HIS ANKLES AND IT IS SO TERRIBLY COLD.)
for @pendraegon (x)
525 notes · View notes
franeridart · 6 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
The Housecat Philosophy - Ep 37
Ep 00 || < Prev || Next >
Read the next four episodes on Patreon || support me on ko-fi~✨
430 notes · View notes
bucketsofmonsters · 2 years
Text
Willing Sacrifice
cw: vaginal fingering, penetrative sex, an attempted sacrifice of the reader, non-human genetalia, getting lost in the woods, a monster in heat
male monster x fem reader
Word count: 9k
“You can’t do this to me!” you screamed, knowing it was pointless but too full of anger to care. 
“I’m sorry, my dear, it has to be done.” The people you used to call friends tightened your bindings as you struggled and thrashed against them, refusing to go down without a fight. 
“It doesn’t!” you protested, unable to understand how they could be alright with doing this. “We can fight or move or anything, I don’t know, anything but this!”
It was futile. As they hurried away, eager to get far away from you and forget about your cries of protest, you wondered how long ago they’d decided on this. When had they decided that you were the one they would sacrifice. 
In all honesty, it had probably been a long time ago. It was probably because of exactly this kind of behavior, you absolutely refusing to let this go on. You’d never been alright with any of this, with how they sent people into the forest to die in an attempt to save their own hides. If you’d kept your head down 5 years ago, the last time they’d tried this, odds were you’d be safe at home right now but you hadn’t. You hadn’t been able to stomach it, wracked with grief until you could stand it no longer.
In the middle of the night, praying you were not too late, you ran to this exact stone and removed the restraints, telling the poor girl a few years older than you were now to run to a nearby village and never turn back. They probably wouldn’t even have noticed you’d freed her if they hadn’t caught you on your way back. It didn’t take long to piece it together, your guilty face running from those woods. You’d been kept on a tight leash since then.
For every person that died in those 5 years, every single one, the blame was placed squarely on your back. “Was it worth it?" they’d ask, “All these souls for one person?”
You said yes every time.
And now here you were, after every attempt to get out had failed. You had no real hope that you’d survive this, the odds that there was another quiet savior in your village was nonexistent. You were alone. It was kind of fitting, that you were going to die in the forest that you loved so much, sacrificed to the beast that lived within it. 
Every time you heard movement in the trees your memories flashed back to all the horror stories you’d been told about the monster in these woods, how it would tear people limb from limb, leave their bones for people to find.
The further on the night ticked, the less jumpy you got. After hours and hours had passed, the cold and the restraints digging into your skin making your limbs go numb became harder and harder to ignore. One can only wait in terrified apprehension for so long before even the fear becomes monotonous. 
You wiggled as much as you could, trying to get blood flow back into your arms and legs. At this rate, even if the creature didn’t kill you, you’d lose your limbs by the end of this. Not that you thought there was any real chance you’d make it out but it was better than just waiting. 
As you moved your arms the few inches that you could, you heard something move behind you and you were almost certain that this time, it wasn’t just your imagination. As much as you struggled, you couldn’t turn enough to see what it was, left completely in the dark. However, the deep, echoing footsteps gave you a pretty good guess at what was coming.  
You took a deep breath, promising yourself you wouldn’t scream. If you were going to die here, you might as well do it with dignity.
A short huff came from behind you and you could feel hot breath wash over you, making your skin crawl. The air shifted as it moved closer, and you desperately tried to flinch away, despite knowing you couldn’t move. 
And then, all of a sudden, you could. Your restraints were ripped open, freeing your arms first and then your legs. You didn’t even take the time to think, immediately throwing yourself from the rock you’d been tied to, desperate to get away. You assumed this was what it wanted, for you to give it a chase, but what other option did you have? You certainly weren’t going to just lay down and die. 
As you pushed yourself from the rock, the gravity of the situation set in as your numb and strained arms and legs gave out on you. You collapsed to the ground unceremoniously, letting out a desperate sob as you realized you wouldn’t even be able to attempt an escape. You lay there, crumpled on the ground, racking your brain for anything you could do. So much for going out with dignity. 
“Are you an idiot?” The voice that came from behind you was deep, barely above a growl, with something deeply animalistic to it. It set off some instinctual fear in you; the sound alone being enough to make the hairs on your arms stand on end. 
You tried to pull yourself back but your traitorous arms and legs wouldn’t allow for it, barely managing to turn yourself enough to see the creature. He was massive, probably seven or eight feet tall, it was hard to tell from the ground. He was standing on two feet, which aided his height. You’d always imagined the beast of these woods on all fours, more animalistic and unspeaking than this. Thick fur covered him head to toe, he looked almost wolfish, with ivory antlers growing out of his head. 
Your heart told you to scream and your head told you to try and reason with him but all you managed to blurt out was, “You can talk?”
He plodded over to you, familiar, echoing footsteps approaching you before picking you up from the ground like you weighed nothing. You could feel his sharp claws, not piercing your skin put pressed up against you as he lifted you. You quietly made your peace with your imminent death before he plopped you down again, leaning you against the stone you’d been tied to. 
“At least gather your bearings before you try and run again, little idiot.”
No matter how much you tried to calm yourself, your breaths were still coming short and fast. At this rate, even if you could stand you would pass out if you tried to run anywhere, you needed to pull yourself together, as difficult as that was in the presence of a figure you’d had nightmares about for years. 
“Is that what you want? For me to give you a chase?” you spat in his direction, trying to sound as frightening as you could while unable to stand properly.
He didn’t even dignify you with a response to your question, which angered you even more. If he was going to kill you, the least he could do was not ignore you first. He glared at you accusationally, as if he had any right to be angry, and snarled, “After the last one wasn’t here, I thought maybe your stupid village was done but you never fail to disappoint me.”
“After the last… I freed her.” You assumed he was talking about his missing sacrifice, the one you’d worked so hard to save at the cost of your own life. You sat up a little straighter at that, proud you’d be able to tell him that you had taken one sacrifice away from him, even if you did end up here yourself. At least you’d have that, a small victory but one you were proud of nonetheless. 
His head cocked to the side, looking at you with a newfound interest, actually responding to your words for the first time. “You freed her?”
“To save her from you,” you spat. You could barely look at him, knowing the blood of your friends was on his hands. The only reason you forced yourself to look was to watch his reaction to your little victory. He didn't seem angry, though, more intrigued than anything, if you were reading his face correctly. You dismissed it, you probably just weren’t understanding him properly, you weren’t accustomed to reading wolf-men’s faces anyways. 
“Your friends did not need saving from me. Despite what you little parasites seem to think, I have no interest in you, as sacrifices or otherwise.”
You shook your head. “No, that’s not possible, you killed them!”
“That is what you all think, isn’t it. Every death is blamed on me, every attack by a wild creature. You send your own to die here, by my hand, and yet I’m the monster. I’ve done nothing to you but exist near your home.”
That couldn’t be true, this must be some sort of trick or game he was playing with you. “You expect me to believe you?”
He scoffed. “I don’t expect a human to believe anything but their own self-centered worldview.”
“Where are they then?” you shot back, trying to force him to admit to his lie. “Where are all my friends?”
“Do you think they wanted to go back to a people who would send them to die so readily?”
That gave you pause. If you survived this, where would you go? Not home, you knew that much. You would never go back there. Not after what they’d done to you. Why would the others feel any different? 
“Are they really alive,” you asked, wincing as your voice cracked, sounding much more pathetic than you’d intended. 
The creature’s demeanor softened at your words and you hated him for it, hated the wave of pity you felt from him. You much preferred when he was calling you an idiot, at least you’d felt like his equal then. 
“They’re fine,” he said, his voice more level than before, more like a low growl than a roar. “They’ve all moved on, gone elsewhere. You will too, when you remember how to stand.”
Was that where you’d go? Some town somewhere, filled with more people. A village like yours, one you’d have to hope would treat you better. Surround yourself with people who could betray you just as easily? The idea turned your stomach. You didn’t belong there. There was nowhere you belonged now. “There’s no place for me. I’ll stay here.”
The more gentle demeanor the creature had put on for you evaporated. “You will do no such thing, if you stay you’ll die.”
“Because you’ll kill me?”
You could practically feel his frustration. “No, I’m not going to kill you, get that through your thick skull. You won’t survive alone in these woods.”
“There’s no place for me amongst people anymore. I love this forest, if it kills me so be it, I’m not leaving.”
He looked you up and down and you couldn’t help but shrink under his intense gaze. Finally, he broke the silence once more. “You’re really not going to leave, are you?”
You shook your head, already adamant in your position. He buried his head in his hands, clearly frustrated with your decision
After a frustrated growl left his throat, he looked down at you once again and said, “Fine, I’ll show you somewhere you can stay.”
You reeled back. “You’re going to help me?”
“I already told you, I don’t want you dead. It’s just somewhere to protect you from the elements, it’s nothing much. Can you walk yet or do I need to carry you?”
You absolutely would not be allowing that to happen. You began to rise and he shifted closer to you. You realized that he was preparing to catch you if you fell, which only made you more determined to stand. You managed it, although on shaky legs and while leaning on the rock you’d come to hate more than anything in the past few hours. 
He seemed to accept that you were able to walk now, despite a few fumbles as you began, your legs slowly regaining feeling, although he never strayed too far from you and you got the distinct feeling he wasn’t sure if you would keel over or not. 
He led you to a cave, not far from where you’d been tied up. It was small, he had to duck a little to ensure his antlers didn’t scrape the ceiling, but he was right. It would protect you from the elements, at least that was something. As soon as you entered he was already leaving, clearly not eager to stick around and chat. 
You weren’t entirely sure why him leaving upset you. You’d just met the terrifying creature, the one who’d haunted you for so many years, and yet so quickly he had turned to some kind of comfort for you. Without him there, the silence of the forest felt overwhelming. 
You laid down on the cold, stone ground, as far from the entrance of the cave as you could get. You weren’t sure how you were going to sleep here but you definitely needed it, emotionally and physically exhausted from the night you’d had. You didn’t need to worry, despite your concerns about being able to fall asleep on the hard ground, your exhaustion rapidly took over. 
When you woke up, something heavy was draped across you and you sat up in a panic, feeling smothered. As you got up, you realized it was a fur of some kind, keeping you warm. Next to you and the fur was some food and you quietly thanked the beast you’d been so afraid of the night before. 
You saw him on occasion, amongst the trees. He was shockingly stealthy for his size, you could tell how no one had ever managed to get a good look at him. You, however, did manage it. He wasn’t hiding from you anymore, there was no use for it. 
Despite his demeanor towards you, he was very helpful. He never admitted to being the one to help you, of course, but when you found supplies around you when you woke up you knew exactly where they were coming from. 
The day you’d awoken to the peace offerings from the beast, you’d also awoken to blue and purple marks covering your arms, right where the bindings had been. You found yourself rubbing them absentmindedly, the ache a reminder of your first night here. You almost missed them as they started to fade, the last real tie to your village. 
You inspected them thoroughly every night, a better marker of time to you than the days. Tonight, for the first time, they were fully gone. No color or pain remaining, just your arms, as they had been. 
“Do you really love the forest?”
You whipped around, unsure as to how you could’ve possibly missed the creature’s entrance. You must’ve been too caught up in your reminiscing. You silently scolded yourself, you couldn’t afford to be that careless. “You’re going to give me a heart attack, warn me first!”
“You should be more aware of your surroundings,” he said, amusement tinging his voice.
“Yes, I love the forest,” you said with a huff, “I told you that already, why are you asking me.”
“Most humans who claim that are more destructive. Why did you save the other sacrifice?”
“Because it’s not right, sending someone to die against their will like that. I couldn’t stand for it, even if it meant me being on that rock. Why are you helping me?” you shot back. This interrogation you’d been unwillingly entered into could go both ways. 
You expected him to brush it off, to say something rude and move on, but he considered your words carefully before responding. “I don’t want you to die, despite how much of a death wish you seem to have.”
“I do not have a death wish!” Sure, you’d been reckless, but you thought you’d been doing pretty well, all things considered. 
“Perhaps you don’t. Your actions make more sense if you do.”
“I can’t have morals?”
“You can, but strong enough ones to die for?”
Of course they were strong enough for you to die for. The other option was letting an innocent person die, you couldn’t stand for that. “Yes. Seems like that wasn’t in the cards though.”
He shook his head in agreement. “Not in my forest it’s not.”
Your head fell to the side, looking up at him curiously. “Is this your forest?”
“I think so. I keep it safe, maintain it. I don’t own it if that’s what you’re asking.”
It wasn’t. You hadn’t even considered the possibility that he owned the forest, that anyone owned the forest. The idea just seemed outlandish to you. 
“What’s your name?” It struck you that you hadn’t asked. 
“Acacius.”
“Thank you, Acacius, for everything you’ve done for me.”
This seemed to take him by surprise. You couldn’t blame him, you supposed you hadn’t acted very grateful thus far. You were grateful, infinitely so. You weren’t so foolish as to think that you could have survived on your own without him, you were resourceful but not that resourceful, especially not when you’d started exhausted and frightened. Without his quiet aid you would have fulfilled the village’s mission, become a sacrifice to the forest despite Acacius’s initial mercy. “You're welcome, little idiot.”
Before you could manage a retort, he was gone, as quickly and silently as he’d appeared.
You saw more of each other after that. He seemed to have warmed to you in the weeks you’d been here and you enjoyed spending time with him, although neither of you would ever admit it. 
As the weeks ticked onwards and the harshest part of winter came, with snow blanketing the ground and temperatures being far below freezing, he just happened to show up more and more often, checking in on you almost daily. And miraculously, more and more pelts kept appearing around your little cave, more than you knew what to with, even in the harsh cold of the winter. 
You were convinced that the worst was over. It must be, you couldn’t remember it ever having been this cold before in the village, although admittedly in the past you had been inside next to the warm fireplace for most of those winters, not in a cave covered in animal hides.
The temperatures dropping even further caught you entirely by surprise. You woke up, shivering, hours after your fire had burnt out to feet of new snow outside. You groaned, rubbing your hands together in a desperate bid for warmth so you’d have enough feeling in your hands to restart your fire. 
As you tried and failed to warm your hands, you heard a very welcome noise. The plodding of heavy footsteps on newly fallen snow approached you and you turned eagerly to see the staggering figure of your protector. 
At the sight of your shivering form you heard a low growl come from him, igniting some instinctual fear in you. You often forgot how imposing he could be, especially when he was upset. You weren’t actually afraid of him, you knew he wouldn’t hurt you, but occasionally, something would happen and something in your biology would tell you that you needed to run. 
He pushed past you, completely unaware of the effect he was having on you and already set on starting a fire, 
“You humans are so fragile,” he called back to you as he busied himself. 
You sniffled quietly, refusing to dignify that with a response. 
It didn’t take long before the fire was roaring in front of you, far faster than you could’ve managed with your practically numb fingers that still weren’t getting better. 
You sat opposite the fire from Acacius, who was watching you carefully as you tucked your hands between your thighs and curled in on yourself, trying to conserve body heat.
“Come here,” he said, beckoning you towards him. You stared back at him, wide eyed and uncertain. He didn’t give you the opportunity to flounder, speaking once more. “You’re cold. Come here.” His tone didn’t leave any room for argument, saying it so matter-of-factly, as if it was the only course of action. You obeyed, shuffling towards him, an uncharacteristic timidness coming over you at the idea of being close to him.
As soon as you were within his reach he pulled you into his side, next to the newly lit fire. Your body went stiff, unsure of what to do with this newfound contact. You’d never actually gotten the chance to touch his fur before, even unmoving against it you could tell how thick and soft it was. Unbidden, your mind conjured the idea of how it would feel to run your hands through it, wondering if anyone had ever done that for him. This did not help how flustered you were, absolutely refusing to move just in case you messed this up somehow. 
Acacius seemed to find this deeply amusing, a low chuckle rumbling through his chest. “Relax, little one, I don’t bite.”
This did little to help your nervousness but you managed to relax against him, leaning into his surprisingly warm side, feeling the cold slowly leave you. 
“You’re so tense around me.” You could feel the rumble in his chest as he spoke, his voice particularly low, making it almost seem as if you were feeling his words instead of hearing them. 
It was a fair observation, you were tense around him. You understood why you were at first, you were scared and upset, of course you were going to be on guard against him. He didn’t seem to mind that, he understood your fear and did his best to prove it unwarranted. But as the fear and anger dissipated and you got to know him, that tension remained. You didn’t understand it yourself, let alone well enough to put it into words. There was just something about him, something that made you more conscious of yourself, a thick tension that always hung in the air.
Not that you’d ever say that to him, admit to that tension you didn’t understand and couldn’t quite manage to shake. So you did what you did best, you deflected. 
“Of course I’m tense. It’s been quite the adjustment, having to sleep on the cold, hard ground,” you said with a dramatic sigh, trying to keep yourself from giggling.
He was having none of it. “Oh please. With all the furs I’ve given you, you’re sleeping like a princess.”
You continued on, undeterred by his accurate assessment. “And no kitchens, or even houses at all, I think I’ve been doing incredibly well considering everything I’ve had to deal with.”
“Do you always complain this much?” he grumbled. 
“When there’s things to complain about I do,” you responded, absolutely refusing to back down. 
Then he got quiet and you worried you’d pushed things too far. Just as you opened your mouth to say you were kidding, that you appreciated everything he’d done for you and that you were doing just fine, he started to speak, cutting you off completely. “Things wouldn’t be so difficult for you if you’d just go to another town, where you're meant to be. You’d be happier there.”
Your heart dropped. You knew he was partially right, that things would be easier if you’d just find somewhere new to stay, live like you always had. But happier? “No I wouldn’t. I belong here, I’m not going anywhere.”
“You’re lucky I’m here and willing to take care of you.”
“I am.”
“You are?”
You knew he was just trying to get you to say it aloud. He wasn’t even trying to hide it. But right now, cuddled into his side, feeling more content than you ever had living in that god forsaken village, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. “Yeah, I’m lucky to have you.”
He pulled you closer into him, almost protectively, and you could feel your face heating up. Between his body heat and the fire and whatever emotions you were experiencing right now, at least you didn’t have to worry about being cold anymore. That problem had long since been solved. 
You hadn’t realized until now how tired you were. You hadn’t let yourself realize, so focused on other things but now, warm and safe, you found yourself nodding off. 
You didn’t know how long you’d been asleep, unwilling to open your eyes and check how light it was. You could tell he was awake beside you, could feel his eyes on you as you avoided opening yours for a little longer, content to remain where you were. 
The dripping of the icicles outside indicated a much needed end to the cold. You hoped it wouldn’t be too long, you missed the green of the forest. Although, if this was how you got to sleep when it got this cold, maybe you wanted it to stick around a little longer. 
“Spring’s coming, isn’t it?” you said, breaking the silence and slowly opening your eyes. “I’ve always loved spring, all the baby animals around and all the flowers.”
He seemed bashful at the idea, although you couldn’t fathom why. “It’ll be easier for you when the cold’s gone,” he said, avoiding eye contact as if he hadn’t been staring you down moments before.
“Yeah, it’ll be nice and warm again. Do you like the spring? I guess I don’t actually know what most of the seasons are like when you’re actually living out here.”
In a frustrating return to form, he refused to answer your question. “I’ll be gone for a while during the spring, you’ll have to fend for yourself.”
You were sure he hadn’t meant for it to hurt you, to seem like he was pulling away. You were sure he had a good reason, something important he had to attend to. It still felt like a slap in the face. You were tucked into his side, trying to talk with him, to connect with him, and all he could think about was leaving.  “Right, okay. I’m sure it’ll be a welcome break. Do you know how long you’ll be gone?”
“Should be no more than a few days, I’m sure you’ll manage.”
You nodded, hoping you looked reassuring, and hoping even more than he cared enough to notice. “I’ll be fine, no need to worry about me.”
It had not been a few days. In fact, it had been almost a week and still there was no sign of Acacius. No matter how many times you told yourself that he was more than capable of handling himself you couldn’t help but worry. As frustrating as he could be, it wasn’t like him to just go missing, to go against his word like this. 
Once a week hit, you went looking for him. Not too far, you didn’t want to be away in case he returned, but you started traveling further and farther from your little portion of the woods. 
You weren’t good at self-regulating. Every time the little voice in the back of your head said it was time to go home, that you’d strayed too far or that it was getting late, you couldn’t help but push on. Just a little further, just a little longer. What if you were right there, so close just to turn back at exactly the wrong moment. 
When you finally did decide to return home, the sun had fully set. You realized your mistake as you tried to make your way back. You were unfamiliar with this part of the woods. In places you’d traveled since you’d arrived here or even back in your time at the village, you could navigate at night easily, but that was well traveled ground. You could find your way through those trees blindfolded if you needed to. 
Out here, on the other hand, you barely knew right from left. The moonlight struggled to make it through the branches and the only real thing you had to guide you was the vague memory of how you’d gotten here. Unfortunately, you had decidedly taken at least one wrong turn and were now in entirely new territory. 
Your single focus was attempting to get to familiar ground. As soon as you panicked you were done, you just needed to get your bearings and then you could get yourself to safety. As you realized that you’d lost even your sense of direction, your priorities changed. If you continued on, the only thing that would happen was you would get entirely lost and at that point, even daylight might not help you. Your best shot was to find somewhere you could hunker down, stay until the sun came up and you could hopefully find your way back.
As you searched, the only thing you could do was think, stuck going over your mistakes over and over again. Your one task was to keep yourself safe and what had you done? Decided you needed to help and set off straight into danger. It was a stupid mistake, one you hoped you’d live to regret. 
Finally, you found a small cave, which would hopefully be your shelter for the night. You were exhausted and you mind was slow with fear and regret and you didn’t think to check it first, not until you heard a low growl. 
Something was in here and now it felt cornered. You couldn’t get out of there fast enough. You barely had time to register the noise before a sharp pain shot through your side and you were keeling over. Chaos broke out around you but you couldn’t make any of it out, the panic and the pain in your side clouding your view just as much as the darkness was. 
You weren’t sure what eventually knocked you out, if it was blood loss or the shock or something else entirely, all you knew as you fell was that you were certain you wouldn’t be waking up. 
But you did, finding yourself somewhere unfamiliar, on dozens of animal pelt laid out below you. Your hand drifted down to the throbbing pain in your side, finding your pulsing wounds wrapped up tight. 
Then, a familiar voice echoed off the walls and you felt relief wash through you. “I asked you to stay out of trouble for a little while, was that so difficult?”
“I didn’t almost get eaten by wolves on purpose!” you snapped back, immediately regretting the harsh tone you’d used. He’d saved you and those were the first words you said to him? “No, sorry, I should be thanking you, you saved me again,” you said, biting down your pride. “What even happened? It was hard to tell.”
“You got attacked by some wolves. I almost didn’t get there in time to stop them, they would’ve torn you apart.”
You winced. “It wasn’t their fault, I was stupid and I cornered them.”
“I know it wasn’t. I don’t blame the wolves.”
He blamed you. As he should, it was your fault. You’d been stupid and you’d put yourself in danger and it wasn’t anyone’s fault but your own. “I’m sorry,” you choked out, feeling the sharp pain above your ribs as you spoke.
“You don’t need to apologize. I just… I need you to be more careful. If I wasn’t there…” His body was tense. You could tell, even from here, that he was still ready to fight, even at the memory. “What were you doing out there anyways?”
You wanted to lie, to save your pride and say anything but the truth, but you didn’t. He deserved to know what had happened. “You were gone a long time and I got worried about you, it’s stupid.”
“It’s not stupid. You’re two sweet for your own good, little idiot.”
This time, you felt like you’d earned the nickname, just this once. “I’m lucky you got back when you did, where have you been?”
“Here.” He was still keeping his distance from you, turned away and as far from you as he could be while still being inside the cave.
“What? But you said…”
He remained hunched over in the corner, back to you and keeled over himself. You could tell from the rise and fall of his shoulders that his breathing was slow and heavy and your heart sank. “Are you hurt?”
He responded immediately, his tone final. “I’m fine. You stay there.”
You didn’t think he’d lie about being injured, he respected you more than that. If he’d gotten hurt he would’ve been tending to it, not trying to protect you from a consequence of your actions. So why was he hiding like this, both in this cave for days and even now, standing far away from you, in your presence but still hiding. 
It was like he didn’t want to be near you or even look at you. You weren’t sure what had shifted as the seasons had changed, why with the beginning of spring he’d needed to spend some time alone, still here but unwilling to see you, set on staying within the privacy of his own home. 
You verbalized your thoughts, trying to make sense of all of it, to piece it together. “So what, you just have a week in spring where you have to…”
Oh.
Oh.
Your hand flew over your mouth as everything clicked into place. A sigh echoed off of the cave walls and you knew he understood what had just occurred to you.
You wanted to tell him it was alright, that he didn’t need to be embarrassed or upset, that he could have told you what was going on. 
Instead, the words that came out of your mouth were, “I want to help”
“You have no idea what you’re saying”
“I think I do.”
He stopped and for the first time in this conversation, he fully turned to face you, leering over you. You could see it in his face, he was considering it and as he stared at you, mulling it over, you let out a shaky breath. But then he backed away from you again, leaning fully against the opposite wall and you shrunk in on yourself, unsure if you’d imagined it. “You need to heal.”
“And what are you going to do during that, just sit in the corner the whole time? I’ll be fine, I’m stronger than I look.”
“I’m aware of that, trust me. You need to heal, nothing is happening until you’re no longer actively bleeding.”
It made sense. You couldn’t fault him for it. If you’d been in your right mind you would have said the same thing, but right now you were a cocktail of conflicting emotions and you decided you didn’t particularly care for rational thinking. But you had no real argument to make so all you managed was a little huff. 
He seemed to find it more amusing than anything, letting out a soft chuckle as he sank to the floor opposite you, putting his face closer to your eye level. “You know, my heats don’t normally last this long. I think my body registered that I was courting you and it was going well but I don’t know how the timelines of human relationships work, I didn’t want to push you into anything.”
You reeled back. “Hold on, you were courting me?”
He seemed just as confused as you felt. “Of course I was. All the furs I put on you while you were sleeping, and the supplies and food. I held you to keep you warm and you fell asleep on me. Is that not how humans court?”
  You shook your head but suddenly you weren’t so sure. He’d brought you gifts and taken care of you and you had fallen asleep on him, perhaps that wasn’t as platonic as you had assumed. 
He seemed horrified by the revelation. “You had no idea this was coming. We shouldn’t be doing this, I need to give you time and space, I-”
“No, wait!” You lurched towards him in an attempt to make him stay but instead you doubled over, clutching your side. Immediately he was next to you, making sure you were alright and that you hadn’t reopened your wounds. 
As you caught your breath and he ensured you were alright, he started to move away again. Your arm shot out and caught his, silently pleading for him to stay with you. Despite your grip on his arm, you knew that if he wanted to he could pull away, you were no obstacle to him. And yet, he didn’t even try, settling down next to you.
When he sighed this time, you could feel it and you’d never been more grateful for the proximity. “I’ve gone about this all wrong. Why are you so confusing?”
“Were you really courting me?” Your voice was low, as if you were worried you might scare him off if you spoke too loud. You couldn’t keep the grin off your face, no matter how hard you tried.
“Clearly not well enough. How do humans court people?”
You shrugged. “I don’t know, weird ways. 
“What ways?”
You struggled to find a way to explain it. “So men will…” your sentence was caught off by a fit of giggles. “Men will like… they’ll give your father a goat. Or other stuff that’s worth stuff. And then you marry them.” You couldn’t stop laughing, it sounded so absurd when you explained it aloud.
Acacius did not seem any more convinced of the legitimacy of these methods. “So you’re not involved in this at all? Are you sure they’re not courting your father?”
“No, that would make too much sense. Noone wanted to pay my dowry because they thought I was mad, freeing sacrifices and running around in the woods. If only they could see me now.” Another fit of giggles overtook you and you buried your face in Acacius's fur. As you did you felt a low growl rumble through him, drawing another smile out of you. “I prefer your way.”
“Your presence is making it worse, you know. I haven’t felt this way, haven’t felt this much, in a long time. I can barely think.”
That probably shouldn’t stroke your ego as much as it did. “Then stop thinking.”
“I’ll stop thinking when you can stand properly, how does that sound?”
To be honest, it didn’t sound ideal but you had a feeling it was the best deal you were going to get. 
Two more days. That’s how long getting better apparently took. At the end of the next day, you proudly showed him that you could walk and even jog just fine, that you were all healed up and still it wasn’t enough for him. 
He was supposed to be the one in heat so you didn’t think it made any sense that you were this desperate, desperate for anything. Every time he’d say you needed to heal more, that he wouldn’t risk hurting you. None of your arguments managed to sway him.
That didn’t stop you from arguing, far from it. It felt like there was endless bickering between the two of you but in your defense, you were being kept inside and you were bored and desperate and definitely healed enough.
So on the second day of being forced to sit around for hours on end, you decide to try once more. 
“You know, it barely even hurts anymore.”
“You can barely move without wincing,” he said, which while fair, didn’t feel entirely relevant to you right now. 
You rolled your eyes. “I’m just being dramatic, don’t worry so much. I feel fine.”
He walked over to you, towering over you, and you prepared to be told off once more. 
“Strip.”
Your voice immediately lost all its confidence. “What?”
“You want to do this so badly, so strip.”
At a loss for words, you did what you were told, pulling off your clothes under his quiet attention, doing your best to not become self conscious. Soon you were covered only by the bandages wrapped over your ribs and your arms that you folded over yourself, feeling exposed and uncertain, in entirely new territory. 
Acacius stepped closer and pulled your arms away from your chest, a pleased noise escaping him as you allowed him to move you with no resistance. As soon as you weren’t covering yourself anymore, his attention shifted down to your bandages and you wanted to scream. Was that really the most important thing right now?
His hand ghosted over them, inspecting them carefully. “Are you sure you’re alright?”
You nodded eagerly, words still seeming a bit difficult at the moment. 
Concern still wracked his features but as he stared at you, chest heaving up and down, you could tell his patience had finally run out. 
“Alright, lay down.”
You followed his orders, reclining on the furs that were sprawled across the floor while he remained where he stood, staring down at you. Normally if he bossed around like this you would have given him hell, but right now you appreciated the commands. You weren’t sure you could manage a coherent thought if you’d tried, with two days of working yourself up behind you. 
“I can’t, I have…” he nodded towards his clawed hands, the ones he’d always been so careful about around you. “I need you to help me open you up, can you do that?”
You nodded, your breath catching in your throat as you did. 
Slowly, you pushed two fingers inside you. His intense gaze fell on you, unwavering, watching your entrance, eyes darting up to your face as you gasped when you hit a particularly sensitive spot. Your eyes locked and you felt yourself clench around your fingers, perfectly content to just lie there, touching yourself as he watched until you remembered your mission and started scissoring yourself open.
You felt so small under his gaze. There was always quite the size difference but you’d never felt it as much as you did right now. 
You knew he could see how wet you were. It must be obvious, even from where he stood. You pushed another finger inside, set on opening yourself up as quickly as you could. You whined as you did. It still didn’t feel like enough, you needed more. You needed him. 
Caught up in your frustration, you didn’t even notice him approaching you until you felt him, leaning over you. You immediately grabbed at him, hands leaving yourself and rooting themselves in his fur in an attempt to pull him towards you. “So impatient, little one,” he muttered, and for a moment you were worried he was going to keep teasing you. 
He was so much bigger than you, leaving you to bury your face in his chest as he lined himself up, his head far above yours. You could feel his tip pressing up against you and if you hadn’t been so worked up, you might’ve thought that you should’ve worked yourself open for longer, this was going to be quite the stretch. You weren’t even sure if it would fit, desperately praying it would.
He waited at your entrance, giving you a chance to protest as you felt him but instead, you bucked your hips, your desperation only growing. Finally, he started to push in. Your arms flew around him. He shushed you in his low, rumbling voice as he paused for a moment to let you adjust to the stretch. You focused on breathing, trying to match your breaths to the slow, steady rise and fall of Acacius’s chest. He seemed better at controlling his breathing than you, clearly measuring his breaths in an attempt to maintain his control and composure as he entered you, which were two things you couldn’t seem to manage right now. It didn’t take long before you grew restless again, letting out a pathetic whine, a noise that you never would have imagined you’d make. 
A low chuckle rumbled through his chest at your impatience so you decided to take things into your own hands, pushing downward to get more of him inside of you, that stretch returning almost immediately. You heard him hiss above you, his hips locked into place, and you realized he was putting all his energy into controlling himself, into not giving into his instincts and just rutting into you.
Part of you wanted him to.
“You need to be more patient,” he said, through what sounded like gritted teeth.
Any other day you’d have shot something snarky back but right now, you were too far gone. All you could manage was whimpering out, “Need you.”
That was enough to make him start up again, set on stretching you out, making it so you could take all of him. It felt like it would never end. Finally, his hips were flush with yours and he stopped, panting and letting you adjust. Your hand creeped down to your stomach, trying to confirm your suspicion. As it landed on your lower stomach you felt him, inside of you, pushing at your walls so hard you could feel it from the outside. 
He felt it too, as you touched it he groaned and you could feel his restraint wearing thin. Good. 
“Are you alright?” he asked, his voice dripping with genuine care. You knew that if you showed any sign of discomfort that he would stop immediately, 
You nodded into his chest,
“Can I move?”
“Please.” Your voice was wracked with desperation. The days of anticipation already had you worked up, you needed him. 
He didn’t require any more convincing, pulling out to rut back inside, earning a cry from you as he reached deeper inside you than you even knew was possible. It wasn’t a hard thrust and you knew he was getting you used to it, making sure he didn’t overwhelm you, but still it felt like he was splitting you in two. Somehow, every thrust felt like it was going deeper, him pushing harder and harder every time. Your hand dropped to rub your clit, desperately chasing your high as he started to use you in earnest, chasing his. 
He pulled you closer to him, your chest flush against his as he thrusted into you. It seemed like he couldn’t get close enough to you, like even while he was inside you needed more. Your hands knotted themselves in his fur, both aiding him in his efforts to bring the two of you ever closer and giving you something to hold onto as everything became rapidly overwhelming. 
The way you clung to him only seemed to spur him on. The way you were holding desperately to him as he ruined you, both overwhelming you entirely and bringing you comfort. The way you trusted him entirely, were giving all of yourself over to him and still trying to draw him closer. You could tell it was driving him crazy, both his instincts and his heart pleased by your behavior. 
The longer it went, the more it seemed like he was losing control, measured thrusts turning into something much more primal. He was letting his instincts take control. His words of praise, telling you how well you were doing, had faded out, replaced by grunts and growls as he hammered into you. 
At a particularly hard thrust, you let out a choked sob, a coil winding in your stomach as he rutted into you endlessly, focused on marking you, on making you his. 
You could feel it coming, feel yourself tightening around him as he pounded into you. Your fist tightened in his fur, giving you something to grab as you found your release. You gasped his name, barely even aware of what you were doing, unable to focus on anything but the white hot pleasure that was ripping through you. 
Even this didn’t deter him, his thrusts made even easier by the new wave of wetness that had coated him as he desperately chased his own pleasure, pushing you through yours. Now that you'd come, that he was sure he’d made you feel good, something in him snapped, fucking you harder than you would have imagined possible. 
You were certain he was close, that he just needed one last push. Unable to move in his tight, protective grasp, all you could do was speak, choking out the words, “please… need you,” through the haze of sensation. His movement stuttered and you clenched around him again, pushing him over the edge as he gave you exactly what you’d asked for. You could feel him come, painting your insides as he held you close to him, his thrusts slowing.
Even as he finished, he didn’t pull out of you, insead wrapping his arm around your waist and flipping the both of you around, leaving you resting on his chest. You still felt full, him seated inside you. You wondered if this was part of his mating instinct, a bid to try and get you pregnant even if you both knew that wasn’t possible, at least not between the two of you. Or maybe he just liked being inside of you and the closeness it brought. Either way, you weren’t complaining, feeling satisfied and full and frankly, exhausted. 
“Please stay,” he asked, his voice low and hoarse, and you knew he wasn’t just talking about you spending the night here. 
“Of course. I told you the first time we met, I’m not going anywhere.”
This seemed to satisfy him, his hold on you loosening slightly so you could get comfortable, snuggling into him as you got ready to succumb to your exhaustion. You managed a muffled, “You’re warm,” still not feeling completely coherent. You were sure you wouldn’t be able to stand if you tried, your legs feeling wobbly already, even as you just layed there, and for the first time, you didn’t mind it. 
You could feel him chuckle to himself, the laugh sending vibrations through his chest. “Will you stop complaining about sleeping on the ground now?”
You murmured happily into his chest. If this was where your complaining had gotten you, you considered it quite the success. “As long as you keep letting me sleep here, with you.”
“I think I can manage that.”
9K notes · View notes
landwriter · 28 days
Text
dead boy detectives is a show whose shortcomings and strengths make total sense when you think of it as a comic on tv, ie terribly goofy expository dialogue that sounds way better when you picture it in comic book font with every other word bolded, panel-paced conversation as our heroes figure out something very obvious, fun enormous monster set pieces that used up all the cgi budget which is why all the rooftop shots look Like That, incredible snap zooms and smash cuts in montages that hit exactly like comic panels, and side characters with bland or brilliant characterization that seems to hinge on the metric of ‘how much cunt did the actor put into their line readings’
206 notes · View notes
Text
Tomarry AU time travel but with a twist
— where Tom and Harry are best friends but Harry ends up falling for Tom — and Tom? He rejects him. Because Tom isn't ready. Because he thinks relationships are a waste of time — and believes what he and Harry has is better. And, Harry? Though hurt, accepts his answer. Though there is some residual awkwardness — they go back to being friends.
But— now, Tom is more aware of Harry. Now, that he knows Harry is okay with having a romantic relationship with him, he starts noticing things that he hasn't before. He starts thinking about Harry more than he did before (which basically means he thought about him every second now, back then it was one thought per ten seconds but anyways—) and having realizations about himself that he has been ignoring before due to always thinking about the future. After all he is a busy man with a grand plan — he was just too busy to have time for something mundane like introspection, am I right?
Unfortunately, though before Tom could do something about his emotions derailing his plans — Harry dies. For him. To save him
Tom being Tom, through his all consuming grief and regrets — breaks time conventions to save Harry and ends up travelling back on the day Harry came to Hogwarts. And as Tom tries to make amends for his mistakes by trying to befriend Harry, who is the new transfer student earlier than before, he realizes how strange Harry used to be.
How he would act skittish around Tom or glare at him with so much hatred that would make him stumble. Because Harry never did that, or did he? That didn't matter though, because Tom would win him over anyways — because he is the one whom Harry loves loved. So, he is one who would end up winning him anyways — not Black or Longbottom for that matter.
So this au is basically time travelling harry and time travelling tom but both of them from different points of time, trying to do their best — trying to save the world (for Tom, it's Harry and is that my way of implying Harry was his world? Yes.)
218 notes · View notes
mycatismyeditor · 5 months
Text
Supercorp idea #222
Lena had some thoughts she just wanted to express to someone. Some very gay thoughts. Some very gay thoughts about Supergirl.
So she did what any rational public figure would do. She made an anonymous social media account on a burner phone and vented all her feelings there. Feelings that were apparently appreciated and echoed by approximately 20 thousand other people on a regular basis.
She did not anticipate ever having to explain those posts as herself. She in fact went to great lengths to make sure no one would ever connect her to it.
But even with all her efforts to remain anonymous after three years with the account, posting multiple times a day, she was bound to slip up once. And what a slip up it was.
Now she was sitting in a DEO conference room getting a briefing on her own post about Supergirl and the various ways that highly sensitive information could have gotten leaked.
Which left her with a choice. She could either confess she was behind it, or she could keep her mouth shut and let 46 government agents be interrogated about their social media history and possible interest in being railed by Supergirl over their desks.
She glanced to her left and saw the shocked face of Supergirl as she read more of her posts.
Lena kept her mouth shut.
375 notes · View notes
sommerregenjuniluft · 2 months
Text
Ant Pile — sommerregenjuniluft on ao3
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Barty Crouch Jr./Evan Rosier | E | 7163 words | chapter 1/2
This is a story about two boys raised by the sun.
Florida heat, being a teenager, best friends and how falling in love works when you’ve already loved them for as long as you can remember.
insp by Dominic Fike’s song Ant Pile
233 notes · View notes
bruciemilf · 1 year
Text
Bruce and Harvey Being Dads
Harvey didn't want kids thanks to a little thing called generational trauma. They were basically the equivalent of
Bruce, big doe eyes, " I want a baby"
" no"
"Oh, okay"
" wait but don't ask another guy I'll do it"
No but seriously; Harvey becomes a dad very much accidentally. Two-Face?! Tim Drake from Batman the Animated series would disagree, but the fucker likes children
Bruce silently made it known he, Dick, Jason and Tim were a package deal and Two Face was PREPARED
I LOVE me some baby batkids. 10 year old Dick had to call Harvey to the principal's office, because like hell he'd face Bruce's 2 hour lecture. Harvey stresses that he can't just fight any kid that annoys him.
" He called Bruce a bad word. That word Luthor said to him last time and you knocked him out"
"...You want an ice cream?"
Harvey's a bit of a workaholic. Hey, the reformed life is slippery. Bruce has two main methods of tempting him back home; 1) send him admittedly adorable pics of Jason trying on suits 3 times his size, or use his " Please, Harv?" Voice
The Batkids know three simple truths in life; Harvey can't say no to Bruce. Harvey is catholic. Harvey prays to God and answers to Bruce.
You think Dick has golden child syndrome? Imagine being Duke Thomas. " why can't you be more like Duke?" Is basically the most used phrase in the house
Two-Face prides himself on being the only one with a backbone, only to fold like paper if they pull the " Papi, come on" trick
Bruce frames all of their babies' drawings and Harvey has copies of them all over the DA Office. He most DEFINITELY brags with his family.
Especially portraits. Imagine Harvey being nervous to pose, but Tim pulls those sad kitten eyes on him and gets so happy. " make me pretty, conejito"
" You already are, papa"
Bruce is dad/daddy, Harvey is pa or papa and Two Face is Pops
They have monopoly tournaments that turn VERY competitive on Bruce's side. One time he lost and didn't speak to anybody for 2 days until Harvey had a " talk" with him
If he winces when he sits down, grumbling as Harvey plants a kiss on his cheek along with a morning coffee, extra extra sugar, Alfred simply pretends he doesn't see it.
1K notes · View notes
rhondafromhr · 28 days
Text
I’m thinking about Bill getting home after the events of Workin’ Boys and as the shock wears off, he can’t stop thinking about that poor girl who played Henrietta who’s probably dead and her striking resemblance to Alice. Thinking about the danger Alice would have been in if she came with him like she was supposed to. He calls her and asks if she wants to come over for a movie night even though it’s not his weekend with her. She’d normally never agree, but something about the way his voice shakes compels her to. She gets there and he just pulls her into the tightest hug and stays like that for a while, needing the physical reminder that she’s here and she’s okay. They watch a childhood favorite of hers that Bill still knows practically word for word from the amount of times he was forced to watch it on repeat when she was little. She’s kind of bored, scrolling through her phone then stumbles across some tweets about what happened. The movie ends and she decides to distract him by telling him about her vampire play with the happy ending. He doesn’t comment on her career choice like he usually does, just so, so grateful that she’s alive that he doesn’t care if she picks the most lucrative, stable career as long as she’s happy. He thinks the world needs more good, kind playwrights like her. He just makes her promise never to put on a play at the starlight - he wants to be there at every opening night and he’s not sure he’ll ever be able to step foot in that theater again. It gets late, but neither of them can sleep, so she asks him to show her how to bake those chocolate chip cookies he always brings to the church potlucks.
171 notes · View notes