Tumgik
#it's remembering the small ones that make it easier
luveline · 17 hours
Note
You mentioned in one post that bombshell!reader was furious with the team for not helping Reid with his addiction (as she should be)…. Would you maybe write about her helping him thru withdrawal or thru the cravings that follow? Maybe subtly at first, then just making sure he knew he wasn’t alone? Just some tender moments where Spencer starts to realize she actually cares about him, even if he doesn’t believe her flirting yet.
-🌕
I love every single thing you write, even for fandoms I’m not even in. You’re amazing!!
thank you for requesting my sweetheart!!! I really hope this is what you wanted, love you <3 fem!reader
cw past drug abuse
“Hi, Spencer Reid.” 
You perch on the edge of his desk with no further introduction. You’ve changed perfumes, to his immediate recognition, the rich smell of your usual parfum swapped for a less consuming scent. He detects apple blossom, and rose, the smallest hint of jasmine, a contrast to your usual vanilla and peony. The human brain can remember 50,000 scents, and Spencer can remember all of yours. Or, he could. 
“You’re not saying hi anymore?” 
“Hi, Y/N.” 
“Hi. It’s nice to see you.” You put your hand on his. Spencer isn’t sure you’ve ever touched his hand before, he’s never really let you, but he doesn’t move away. A huge winding of tension between his shoulders begins to unspool. “It’s really nice to see you, babe. I’ve missed you tons and tons.” 
He looks up tentatively. “You have?” 
“I have. I haven’t really been invited, today. I’m just here to see you.” 
“Why?” Spencer asks. 
You tighten your fingers on his hand. “Missed you. Thought maybe we should, like…” And that’s unusual, for you to use filler words, Spencer doesn’t know what to think of it. “Well, I have something to say to you, and it’s going to either sound reassuring or ridiculous.” 
“Okay.” 
You give him a withering look. “Don’t make it any easier for me.” 
He laughs. The sound alone fosters your smile. “Sorry,” he says softly, “I doubt it’ll be ridiculous.” 
“Spencer Reid, we are friends. We are. But we never do anything outside of work, so I was thinking you could come over tonight and we’d make dinner and watch TV and stuff.” 
“And stuff.” 
“I’m a bit nervous,” you confess, looking down at your lap, then quickly back up into his face, “I’m worried you won’t want to.” 
You’re kind to avoid saying what he’s sure you’re thinking; you’re worried he won’t want to spend the night with you, and instead will look down the long barrel of a small needle. Or, he thinks that’s what you’re thinking. He does it to everyone. 
“What do you want to make for dinner?” he asks. 
“What are you enjoying lately?” 
“I… I don’t know. I’m not really eating.”
“Cereal?” 
“Yes,” he laughs. “Lots of cereal.” 
You tap the wheel of his chair with your heel. You’re dressed as though you aren’t working, wearing a sweet dark dress with a starched collar and baby sleeves, stockings, and a necklace at your neck that glows with a small white crystal. You look amazing. It never makes any sense to Spencer, why you’d taken an interest in him, and why you bother now. He knows he’s hard to care for. He knows he’s making it worse. 
You look up and down his face. You must see the purple half circles beneath his eyes, the crack at the corner of his mouth, the cut he can’t stop picking on his cheek. Every time it scabs, he opens it again. One second he’s sitting there and the next he’s got blood under his fingernail. 
“Hug?” you ask hopefully. 
He goes to stand. You move in too fast and wrap your arms around him, leg slotting between his, leaning over his shoulders with a distinct sense of protectiveness. You squeeze him, a little sigh escaping you that sounds loud so close to his ear. 
“How has it been this week?” you ask quietly. 
“It’s fine.” He cups your back in his arm carefully. The other wraps tight around the small of it. He soaks you up, scared you’re gonna pull away any second. 
“How are you feeling about it? Do you need any extra help?” 
He cringes. “No,” he says. “It’s really fine.” 
“When you texted me, about the cravings? What are they like today?” 
He wishes he could breathe in the smell of your perfume and your skin and tell you they’re all better now. It would make sense; there isn’t much in his life that hasn’t been made better by your attention. He’d struggle to do this without you. You’re his only friend who actually cared enough to say the problem out loud, but you’re just a woman, you can’t work the sort of magic necessary to kick this for him. 
“Spencer?” You pull away, nudging his cheek with the back of your finger. 
“They’re okay. I’m not gonna do anything.” 
“Good, honey. I’m proud of you. I know how hard this is.” 
He bites the inside of his lip, surprised at your caring. He shouldn’t be.
“What are you two whispering about?”
You and Spencer have different reactions to Emily’s sudden question. He flinches like he’s been caught with his hand in the cookie jar and you, still vaguely pissed with everyone for not telling you Spencer was struggling and not afraid to show it, keep your eyes trained on his face. 
“Nothing,” Spencer says. 
You turn to her with a small smile. You still like her, Spencer knows. Secretly, he’s pleased you’re angry for him. It’s nice to have someone so obviously on his side. “We’re just deciding what to get for dinner.” 
“Oh, nice. Date night?” she teases. 
You press your cheek to his forehead. “Date night,” you agree, your hand unmissable where it bunches in his sweater near his heart. 
505 notes · View notes
sinizade · 13 hours
Text
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
B'ella, the Pale Child (Dark Urges Redeemed)
Class: Warlock (Barbarian subclass)
Romance: Bae'Zel
Besties: Scratch / Owlbear / Wyll / Gale / Karlach
One extra egg among all those eggs wouldn't make a difference, nor would they complain about having two extra hands to fight for the "glory" of their queen. This way, the hatching of this egg surprised the elders of that Creche a little, a child as pale as the moon and with eyes as red as blood that possessed a fury worthy of a demon, certainly that child had something inside him, but the Githyanki wouldn't get rid of a healthy child just because of surpestitions based on one of the babies' appearance... But should they?
B'ella was obedient, precise, deadly, her teachers could see and feel the almost insane pleasure she felt every time she beat her opponents in training, every time she made them bleed and beg... Something so... Sadistic... Even for a Githyanki child, it was unusual to have such an appreciation for death and the ways of killing, but then again, they weren't going to get rid of such a dedicated and useful fighter like her just out of superstition.
Her adulthood was only accompanied by an insatiable hunger, B'ella could have had her uses in combat, an animal, a monster, but when her abilities began to affect other Githyanki they finally realized that having her there was no longer safe or suitable for Creche, so in a clear desperate act they tried to contain B'ella, they tried to tame the monster inside her... The Slayer, but that obviously didn't go as they expected and her sadistic, cruel and psychotic fury spread to everyone in that Creche. Every teacher, every warrior, doctor, student, child, egg, all murdered, torn apart in a bloody dance that spread throughout each hall and that was when she heard a voice, a small creature that praised her... A praise that she never found she was going to receive, I told her that there was a place where she could be who she really was, where she could know what it was like to have a family that truly admired her for what she did...
That male human, that Enver Gortash, intelligent man. Tasting Gortash, subduing him to her whims was satisfying, but her devotion was only to her creator, to her god, to her father, Bhaal... But everything had been thrown into the trash with the betrayal of that insolent child, that damned and jealous changeling who took her rightful place.
Waking up on a ghaik ship with no memories left her disconcerted, but her focus now was to get out of there and return to her people and achieve purification. Having someone as adept in battle as Lae'Zel made it easier since the rest of her companions with the exception of Karlach left the pale gith with disgust in her mouth regarding combat.
It wasn't so bad being around that bunch of big noses, they entertained her, they seemed to care about her dark desires, not just for them, but also for her? This was new, not even she remembered the last time she received any kind of help (literally)
Lae'Zel... Zhak vo'n'fynh duj... B'ella could barely understand what she felt, she could barely know what she felt, she didn't know or remember that feeling, but with Lae'Zel everything was clear. .. She was her world, her sword, her flame, the source of her joy...
Finding out that she wasn't a child of Gith broke her, even if she managed to hide it well, it destroyed her completely inside, knowing that the years she spent in her Creche, that her "egg", that her life, was a fake life designed by her "father". That wasn't for her, even if it once had been, now it wasn't... B'ella would no longer be a Bhaalspawn, now she would be a child of Gith and follow Orpheus and her beloved Lae'zel into battle against Vlaakith's tyranny
Some extra information about B'ella
Her memory was "reset" to her times at C'reche as soon as she lost her memories, before her dark impulses took over.
She has a strange habit of keeping a lock of her enemies' hair for no reason, she just likes to have a memory of good battles, but when the enemy wasn't good enough she just crushes his head (She has a lock of hair with her from the hair of Minthara/ Ketheric/ Raphael)
Even though she appears to be reserved and cold, B'ella is considered TOO romantic when she is with Lae'Zel and only Lae'Zel, only her source of joy can see B'ella that way
141 notes · View notes
softboo · 12 hours
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
love me, ever so gently
pairing: austin butler x reader
summary: you recently moved to a new apartment, making new some eccentric friends along the way. but what you didn't expect was falling in love with a stranger. a stranger you somehow couldn't stop thinking about
words: 2.1k
warnings: depictions of domestic abuse, dark themes of relationships
author's note: i made this on an extremely impulsive whim and i have never been so terrified of posting this. my anxiety of trying to make this story went from writing this for three days straight to now suddenly having multiple parts. i'm literally almost done with part III so we'll see how far this goes. hopefully you like my very first fic... i haven't written in years... ehh... and thank you in advance for reading this :3
part I
"you're either incredibly talented or horribly lousy."
george stated right before you tore down the stack of books from the pile. you groaned in frustration, ignoring that thing buried right under the surface of your heart. if bookstores and libraries could make something aesthetically pleasing, then so could you. just like you were able to do a year ago.
you huffed once more before starting the process over again.
george took your silence as a precautionary warning, tentatively placing a small cup of coffee next to you, hoping maybe a little space and some caffeine couldn't hurt your pride more than he did.
"as long as you don't make a mess, it makes my job a thousand times easier," he offered you a toothy, yet slightly lopsided grin before leaving you to your uncomplicated complicated endeavors.
george circled around the remaining tables that were also still being set up for the fair at the community center. you were a regular volunteer for these events, moreso because your neighbors invited you to them in the first place. one of your neighbors being george, who hobbled right back to where you were, smiling proudly at his empty tray.
"well, my services are done."
he flashed another innocent grin before leaving you be, "make sure you get that done before cass sees you!"
"george I'm going to throw this empty tray at you."
he let out a belly laugh, even though he was as thick as a twig. he pulled you over to him, wrapping his arm around your shoulder.
"there she is!"
you rolled your eyes at him, but couldn't help a smile. you still remember when you met him for the first time.
~ ~
your first week at the new apartment building was stressful enough, splitting your belongings in each individualized box and suitcase. and somehow through all that stress, someone as joyous as george just so happened to crash right into you with all of his groceries.
and he had this distinct smell, something between a book you haven't opened in years and an old worn out knitted sweater. at the time, he greeted you like you've been friends for years, something you deeply missed when you moved away from your hometown. from everyone.
"welcome to the neighborhood!!" he screamed in your ear, forgetting his hearing aids before he left for the store. you let out a polite, yet awkward, kind of laugh, thanking him for his very enthusiastic greeting. it's funny to look back on it now, a stranger you would've never imagined becoming friends with. including everyone else you met along the way.
~ ~
evelyn and cassandra peered from the hallway behind you, coming from the kitchen. cassandra with her big box of jewelry for her stand, while evelyn followed suit.
"did george call me cass again? i hate when he calls me cass. it sounds like ass."
"because you are an ass."
cassandra shot him a quick glaring look before he started laughing again, placing her boxes down. she pointed a shaky finger at him.
"you know one of these days, i really hope i end up dying before you. i can't stand that laugh of yours." she grumbled, which made you laugh.
"can't keep a happy man down cass. you're stuck with me forever," he bellowed, leaving a messy kiss on her cheek before she swatted him away. george dramatically saluted them before hobbling away again, wanting to mingle and socialize before the fair officially opens.
cassandra gathered her things once more as she eyed your table with a sense of pride.
"you never cease to amazing me sweetie. i always love how you decorate your books."
her words swelled in your heart and that thing that was buried right under the surface dissipated, only just for a moment. and you were completely and utterly okay with that.
"thanks cassie..." your voice drifting ever so softly. like she was going to catch it in the end like she always does.
~ ~
when you met cassandra last year, you heard her voice before you saw her. you were seated at the lobby of your apartment building, waiting for a blind date that never picked you up. it was about two hours before you decided to call it and when you looked up, you saw her.
she was a bright eyed woman, her grey hair tossed behind a small pink scarf, something you've only seen worn a few times or rather only in movies. she looked at you with a look of concern. you weren't crying of course, why waste tears on some stranger right?
but you got your hopes up immensely high and someone as experienced in her years as she was, she could tell a disappointed look when she saw one.
"oh my dear, what's the matter? are you hurt?"
you shook your head no, having no energy to formally respond with a voice.
"come here love, let's bring you back home. do you live here?"
you nodded.
she waddled her way towards you, keeping you close to her. she was a tiny woman, hunched over slightly as she led you to the elevator. once you were both inside, she asked what floor you were on and pressed the appropriate button for you. her floor being the one below yours.
"sorry we have to stop at mine first..." she began and you shook her head to stop her.
"don't be. it's okay... i was heading up anyway." you finally had strength to talk again, "i should be saying sorry for keeping you from getting home."
she scoffed at your response, displaying one of the warmest smiles you've ever seen.
"sweetie, you're doing me a favor."
the elevator dinged and opened to her floor, the woman turning to walk out.
"i am?" you asked her and she nodded, standing outside the elevator doors.
"yes. because no man deserves to make someone as lovely as you this sad."
your face went from feeling defeated to utter confusion as the woman smiled again. this time knowing exactly what you were going to ask.
"i know disappointment when i see it."
and just like that, the elevator door closed.
~ ~
"how are you feeling otherwise?" cassandra asked you, momentarily glancing over at your beautiful table.
"better. only sometimes," you responded, a lump suddenly appearing in your throat. feeling as if you were half lying somewhere.
"that's okay. just remember that someone who's broken you then doesn't deserve to break you now," she gently held your cheek, looking at you as if for the first time again.
"and besides, who knows who you'll might meet today."
~ ~
cassandra's words rung in your ears, weighing heavy on a hopelessly romantic heart. being alone was easy and you weren't lying if you admitted that to anyone because it was true. that was one of the perks of moving here, along with meeting all of your new friends.
but being lonely... that was difficult. especially when the fall season would blend into the holidays. one night after the other. because everyone seemed to find their someone by the times gifts were supposed to be given. which is why you wanted to put everything into the community fair this year.
and because heartbreak anniversaries were apparently a thing on your calendar.
you glanced over at your table, the last few books lingered for awhile. some people glancing over at them, while others would pick it up just to place it back down again. you didn't really know why seeing a book not being chosen hurt a small part of you. but it did.
or maybe you knew but didn't want to face it.
soon enough, you noticed someone hovering near the entrance, like he was contemplating whether or not to let his curiousity get the best of him. it may have been a little more than an hour or so when he actually approached your table.
you quickly stood up in response, as you noticed him eyeing a few of the older books. his hands lingered on each cover, not saying a word. his hair was blonde, wavy and messy, like he'd just woken up. the rest of him was covered by a black mask.
you did notice the way his hands moved though, hesitating to pick something. shaking a bit, a shadow crossed your peripheral and you could've sworn you saw a bruise somewhere on his knuckles.
"do you need help finding anything?" your voice coming out a lot softer than you had hoped. he looked up and you felt this entire weight lift off of you. like something encapsulating you just shattered into a million pieces and suddenly you could breathe again.
his eyes were so blue, like you were swimming in this endless ocean full of life and somehow you couldn't tell the difference between the stillness of the water or the blueness of the sky.
you could see a slight smiling forming on his face before he shook his head no.
"oh well if you want anything... i really recommend any of the classics."
his eyes glimmered a bit, letting his hand linger on one of the few books he was eyeing before.
"how much is it?" his deep tone caught you by surprise as you hesitated to respond. your own voice catching in your throat.
"oh um... everything is free."
"really?"
and just like that, you noticed something switch in him, a sense of curiosity filling those calm waters.
"which ones have you read so far?"
you didn't realize it, but your eyes lit up at the question. and he noticed. a small smile forming on his face.
"oh this one is my favorite... i haven't finished it, but it was really good from where i left off," you pointed at pride and prejudice.
you smiled at him, like your excitement was taking over and he could tell how much you loved talking about books. his gaze never wavering as you spoke about the stories that overwhelmed you and the others that never lasted a few pages before you decided to stop. he listened with such intent, such intrigue, it made you feel like you were someone he had known for years.
his aura was beautiful and a part of you wished that something would lead to something which would lead to something else. you didn't even feel anything in that regard, not yet anyway, but that same part. it was pulling... gently. ever so gently tugging at your heart.
"thank you for all of your recommendations," he began, holding on to ever single book you spoke about. you were about to protest that he didn't have to, but he was adament on keeping every single one.
"are you sure you want to get all of them?" your voice wavering on worry, but all he did was smile at you, letting out a soft laugh.
"i'm sure."
his voice was so reassuring, you almost forgot to offer him a bag. there was a slight pause before you realized, eyes widened in embarrassment.
you quickly apologized to him, running to the back to get a bag. you left the table feeling this overwhelming warmness flow through you as you noticed your heart beating against your chest. you tried to hide the excitement, but your heart was already getting your hopes too high.
but when you came back, your heart instantly dropped right into your stomach. a woman was now standing next to him, but something was different in his eyes. the oceans were no longer waves crashing against the seashore. they were climbing under thunderstorms. drowning in its own current.
her hair was dark red in color, flowing to accentuate the curves of her body. she was unbelievably gorgeous and your heart sank even more. but there was something about her that you couldn't figure out.
"here's your bag, i didn't mean to—"
"why your table is absolutely gorgeous, isn't it austin?"
he didn't glance at you or her or anyone. all he did was nod. you noticed the grip she had on his arm. it was tight. suffocating.
you offered the bag to them, but she shooed your hand away, like you were merely just a bug.
"no need sweetie, we were just on our way out. he was just looking anyway."
you tried your best to keep your composure, but you were fuming on the inside. only cassandra could call you that and at least when she did, it was endearing. not spiteful.
she flashed you the biggest smile that fueled your fire even more as she pulled austin away. you noticed him stiffen when they left the table. he couldn't even look at you.
and he couldn't even say goodbye.
58 notes · View notes
cupcakeslushie · 2 days
Note
Hi! Big fan of your work!
For your Empyrean Weeping AU, I was wondering if—despite everything that's been done to his memory—Leo remembers all the people he's killed for the Shredder?
Because if he does, there's this one scene in the show "Leverage" that really haunts me, where the muscle of the heist crew (a former hitman) is being interrogated:
Tumblr media
(The transcript doesn't quite do the scene justice, so you can watch it here)
I wonder whether Kappa/Leo might have the same philosophy regarding his body count, or if it would be something completely different?
Have a great day!
You know, I missed out on Leverage when it aired, but I’ve only ever heard good things, so I’m gonna say this does sound like a view Leo could have.
While Leo did have his mind and memories messed with, making it easier for the Shredder to manipulate him. He still made a conscious decision, at one point, to stop fighting, and start obeying everything that was asked of him. So Leo definitely views all of that blood on his hands alone. Even when he grows to a healthier place, he refuses to shift the blame onto the Shredder.
I also have a small head canon that Leo has an eidetic memory—which (aside from Gram-Gram Karai protecting him) is a huge part of the reason Kitsune had such a difficult time altering his memories, and eventually focused more on suppressing his emotions). It would not be a stretch for him, to have all these same specifics of each kill memorized and burned into his brain.
104 notes · View notes
that-basic-simp · 2 days
Text
Smile
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Mizu x Fem!Reader CW: N/A WC: 1.1k+
A very rare moment, yet fleeting one, was seeing Mizu smile. An even more rare moment was hearing her laugh. And when she did either of them, I cherished it. I cherished those moments with her because she has not known peace in a long time and for her to be loose and at peace like that, it meant everything to me. For her to be like that in front of me, I wanted to rid of every thing that would stand in her way just to ensure she could smile and laugh on a normal basis. But with her past, it was hard to come by.
She'd have spells of nightmares where she'd remember those times of her youth and her previous relationship. To when both her husband and mother betrayed her in a sense. It took a long time for her to trust me, but I had shown her time and time again that I would never betray her. Not even after she left for London and didn't return for a very long time. I was just worried sick. And when she did return, it was a moment of relief for her and I. Now we could settle down for a bit, but it was hard for her to return to a peaceful life after living one in constant fear and blood.
Upon her night returning home to me, we celebrated well into the late night and early morning. But it wasn't the typical celebration that most would think. It was just her and I, sitting, drinking tea and her recounting the events that happened in London and beyond. How she had to adapt to not only the clothing style, but the fighting style. Like Fowler brought guns to Japan, London was more technologically advanced for the time period. So it was hard for her to fight at times. I remember the one conversation we had when she came back.
"Holding a gun is easy, being able to shoot one off is hard," she said, staring into her reflection of the tea. "A gun makes killing people a lot easier than a sword or a spear ever could."
"Is it because there's no effort into it?"
"It's like what Swordfather told me. A sword is a line between life and death. A gun takes lives easier than a sword. I have to put in the effort because I know that if I don't, I will get hurt. Or even killed."
"But you were successful."
"That I was," she said, sipping her tea.
I smiled, "I knew you had it in you."
She smirked, "What are you talking about? Are you saying you doubted me?"
"Who knows? Maybe I was," I chuckled.
That smirk turned into a smile, and before I knew it, it turned into a small chortle. My heart fluttered as she tried to hide that smile behind the cup of tea. Reaching over, I lowered it and found her smile. The smile that always made my heart soar whenever I saw it. The smile I loved seeing and whenever I do, makes me realize how much I love her. How I have fallen head over heels for her the minute I saw her take down Taigen with ease.
"Mizu," I whispered.
"Yes, Y/N?" she asked, her smile still lingering as we found one another's eyes.
It was that night when we slept together in a long time. A mess of wrapped up and entangled limbs. Just how I liked it. And in the morning, it was even better knowing that she didn't have to leave, but she still trained. She didn't have to anymore, but she still wanted to retain that talent she had with the sword. And I'd sit and watch her from the porch as she swung her sword with ease. Moving back and forth fluidly like water. Like her name.
For the most part, after she returned home, was the same thing day in and out. Wake up in the morning, eat breakfast, she'd go train, and then I'd do some things around the house. It was a routine both of us had to get used to. But spending it with Mizu made it all the more better.
"Mizu?" I asked one night while we were eating dinner together.
"Yeah?"
"What do you have planned for the future?"
She coughed slightly on her tea. Removing the cup from her mouth, she patted her chest before clearing her throat.
"I-I didn't really have any plans. T-The last time I settled down, it didn't go well."
"I know," I said.
"I just need to be prepared for anything that comes our way."
"Do you think people will come after you again?"
"I don't know," she shook her head. "But you can never be too sure."
"Do you worry about me turning you in?" I asked after some silence had passed.
"Never. I never worry about that."
I let out a sigh of relief, knowing that she can still trust me.
"Even if someone tried to get information out of me, I'd never tell them anything."
"If someone so much as touches you in a malicious way, they are losing their hand without a second thought."
Her face turned serious, almost like a scowl. I sat there, blinked a few times before my lips cracked into a smile. Soon, I started to giggle, and then that turned into full on laughter.
"Did I say something funny?" she asked, tilting her head to the side.
"No," I smiled. "It's just that, you'd go to great lengths to keep me safe."
"Why wouldn't I?"
I shrugged, still smiling. "Never really thought I'd find someone who would want to protect me."
"Y/N," she set her tea cup down and grabbed my hands. "If there was ever a reason I needed to raise my sword and take a life, you're that reason. My mission may be over. My path of revenge has finally stopped and there was so much blood on my hands. But, I put that behind me. It's over and done with. I don't even want to raise my blade to another person's neck. Unless I have to. I have a new mission now. A new path. A path of a protector. Protecting you."
A soft smile appeared on my lips as tears started to form in my eyes. She removed her hands from mine and cupped my face softly, wiping the tears away. Leaning towards me, she lightly placed her lips against mine. My eyes fluttered closed and I melted into the kiss. It only lasted a few seconds until she pulled away, pulling me into her embrace.
"I never want to lose you," she whispered, her voice cracking slightly. "I think I'd lose myself if I lost you."
"I'll never leave you, Mizu. And I know you'll do anything to keep me safe."
"I will do anything."
Pulling away, I reached up and placed my hand against her cheek, entranced by those blue eyes of hers. How they popped out against the firelight that flickered beside her.
"I love you, Mizu."
A very soft and gentle smile appeared on her lips. Tears formed in her eyes as she pressed her forehead against mine.
"I love you, too, Y/N."
66 notes · View notes
espercognitive · 3 days
Text
She was a Seamstress, He was an Actor.
Timothée Chalamet x Fem!reader Pt2
Tumblr media
hello everyone! this is part 2 of this series! I'll probably have part 3 either out tomorrow or Thursday! Also this series may or may not include a full smut? I think I might release a smut-shot before I release a smut for this series, but when I do, please remember that adult content is not intended for minors!
TW: Sexual tension, Kissing, Swearing
Word count: 1.29k
From running back and forth from the costume room to the workshop to grab keys to the top of the theater back to the workshop, you had about 45 minutes left to make sure his outfits worked.
"Ok Timothée we have 45 minutes to get this done, so these pants go with this shirt, and if you can't get anything on, don’t force it on, i don't want anything to break ok?"
"Yea yea thats fine. Uhm so do i just strip here or-?"
"Uh yea let me just turn around. If you need anything, uh just call me over and I'll see if i can help."
You turn around to let him try on the first outfit. After a couple minutes you hear a,
“Uh Y/N I'm finished with this one."
You turn around and see him in a crisp suit. ‘Good on you for picking up those slacks perfectly.’ you think to yourself.
"Awesome! Those work out perfectly. Ok, you don't have to try on the rest then cause those are the backups in case something didn’t fit."
"Ok so i just take them off and give them to you now?"
"Yes and then you can go back and do whatever."
You turn back around to give him more privacy when he begins small talk,
"So do we just have a bunch identical suits or?"
"Oh the suits? No, they're used for the orchestra pit performers when they come in. but we have so many extra after each show, that I just figured I should steal a couple sets to see if they'd work."
"Oh cool. Hey um I might need a little help. The zipper on my slacks is stuck on my underwear."
He said mumbling the last part.
"Really? Um, do you mind if I come take a look?"
"Yea no that's fine, I just don’t wanna break the zipper."
You turn around to see Timothée with his button down open and his zipper stuck on his black boxers. You gulp looking at his helpless face in front of you as you walk over to him. ‘Keep this professional Y/N. He's just your hot coworker’ you thought to yourself. As annoying as he was, you couldn't deny that he was attractive, especially now with that dopey look on his face with his chest open. You began to mess with the zipper, but it seemed like no matter what you did to it, it was stuck to his boxers. The more and more you tried the more and more you were afraid to ask for him to remove his boxers in order to detach them. 
"Uh, it's really stuck. I mean I can try a little more? I'm trying not to touch you."
He looks at you and says, 
"I don’t care if you touch me."
Your face began to heat up as you shot your head down to try and get the zipper. After failing again and again, you looked up and asked 
"Can you take your boxers off?”
He laughs and responds 
"Wow. You must really wanna see me naked. All you would’ve had to do is ask apple."
"Timothée that's not what i meant it just might be easier to-"
He laughs again and says,
“I know apple, I'm just playing. I can take them off and hand them to you ok? I'll face away from the door, and you face towards the door, when I'm done, I'll hand them to you, just grab them without looking over here or else I'll have to charge you for what you see.”
"Ok yea that’ll work."
You turn around as you can hear Timothée shimmy out of his boxers as he takes off his pants. There you feel him tap on your shoulder 
"Here. Um please hurry though, its kinda cold."
"Yea yea hold on."
Finally you were able to slip the fabric from the zipper saving the two of you the weird walk of shame back to the costume shop. 
"Ok Timothée here!"
He grabs his boxers, and gets dressed again. He grabs your shoulder and turns around looking at you and kissing your cheek, he leaves the room. There you sit staring at the collection of couches as your phone rings telling you it's time to go. 
You grab your phone, clothes and of course your apple juice as you stumble back into the costume shop. 
You get into your car, and just sit. 
This was going to be a weird show, but as we all know, Anything goes! 
A long week passes by.
The week had gone by very fast. With so many costumes to finish and baseline done, you finally got to work on Timothée’s sailor uniform, which meant lots and lots of fittings. Grabbing 6 yards of white fabric you began working on his shirt first. It needed to be long enough to go past his hips, and then the sleeves needed to be about an inch smaller than his wrist. You took the pattern, adjusting it to his size and you began cutting and marking each piece which you lazily attached together to begin his fitting. You grabbed your phone and texted him using his contact info left in the costume bible
“Hey Timothée, it’s Y/N, can you come over to the costume shop? I know its late, but I finished your shirt and I need to see how it looks before I surge it. Thank you!” 
After about 30 minutes of silence, you get a text back 
“Yes. ill be over in about 15 minutes.”
You smiled, setting your phone down. His antics had begun to slow down over the past couple of weeks. I guess the trick was him always bringing you apple juice. Or maybe it was the fact that his eyes would linger longer than they used to, or how he’d try and make you laugh all the time. Even how he started showing up on time. You didn’t know what it had been, but instead of being annoyed, you felt excited knowing he was coming. 
When he walked in, he of course had the same bottle of apple juice he always got for you. He walked in with the same goofy smile and he came up with his arms stretched out. But of course, you didn’t get the memo right away just taking the apple juice and smiling, leaving him hanging. He laughs before he asks about the shirt
"So where is this wonderful creation your about to have me put on?"
You laugh as you grabbed the poorly stitched shirt
"Uh this is it."
Timothée laughs as he takes the shirt, but instead of getting changed in a dressing room, he takes off his shirt in front of you and then puts on the white shirt. You stare at him as he dresses himself, watching as he struggles to button the front portion. 
"Can you help me button these?" He laughs.
You put yourself back in reality and walk over beginning to button the shirt for him as he looks down at you. As you finish, you look up and see him looking at you with a soft smile. Staring into his eyes, he grabs your face and gives you a soft kiss. Nothing forceful or sloppy like you had seen him do to other women. It was comforting and warm. He ran his hand through the back of your hair as you two deepened the kiss. You two separate looking at each other again, going quiet for a moment, before he says
"Do you want to go get dinner with me tonight? You can come back to my place after and we can just hangout or?"
You nod wondering what exactly you’ve gotten yourself into.
70 notes · View notes
eldevit · 2 days
Text
Simon takes care of you when you are having a period 🩸
You are lying down in your shared bed with Simon, clutching your teeth and closing your eyes from the tormenting pain. You are breathing a little more frequently than necessary and occasionally giving a small moan. Simon lies right beside you, gently massaging your belly by running his hands along it in slow and gentle circles. He understands how much pain you are in.
He knows a lot about pain, but he is not going to compete with you and just give you proper care to help you through the pain. Showing you how your feeling is important for him. He is soothing and comforting you, whispering that it will become easier very soon.
Your period arrived abruptly this time, and the pain hit you at an early hour, so you got insufficient sleep. To make matters worse, you ran out of your painkiller pills. The sheets and mattress of your common bed were stained in a small spot as a result.
Simon swiftly deals with the situation with no hesitation. He carefully moves you to one side for a brief period and swiftly removes the stained sheets and washes the blood away. As the sheets are sent to the washing machine for better cleaning, he uses one hand to clean the mattress and his other hand to research open nearby pharmacies that may provide painkiller pills, using his phone.
Then he quickly dresses himself and head to the nearest pharmacy, whilst you lie on the bed, barely able to suppress another moan of pain. He remembers the exact name of your preferred painkillers without asking unnecessary questions. He also buys pads of your favoured brand, remembering the explanation you provided him earlier about what to pay attention to, and the meaning of all symbols found on the pad package. Indeed, he is aware of it all by heart, as gathering data is incredibly important for an assignment of this significance.
As the pain reaches a fever pitch, he finally reappears. He is panting heavily as he hastily extracts the pills from his backpack and gives them to you. Furthermore, he hands you a bottle of water.
"Come on, sweetheart, I'm right here - it'll get much better now," he assures you.
You take the pill and drink some water in an attempt to resist the violent wave of nausea resulting from the pain.
Simon gently wipes the sweat from your forehead and remains massaging your belly, until you finally drift off to sleep, utterly exhausted from the tormenting pain. At long last, the suffering ceases as the painkillers begin to take hold and the stress of the situation gradually dissipates.
He wraps you in his arms. "Rest well," he gently whispers.
45 notes · View notes
mishapen-dear · 2 days
Text
apocalypse au. cannibalism. corpses. Offscreen loss of loved ones
-
“Some leather armour,” Bad notes, tugging curiously at the straps of the corpse’s armour. “Euagh, almost broken, though.” The armour gets tossed to the side. “A granola bar? Okay, we’ll take that.”
Cellbit twitches at that. He wants to ask, “Do we have to?” but there’s several reasons why he doesn’t. Protesting a backup food supply is never a good idea, for one. It’s not worth it to risk starvation just because he’s worried that the backup food supply will become their primary. He tightens his hold on the bloody sword and insists again. It’s not worth it. Instead, he says, voice rasping, “There’s too many. It’s all going to rot.”
“You think so?” Bad looks up at him, then runs a critical eye over the little encampment. Ten bodies, some larger, but all fat deposits slimmed by lasting hunger. Bad licks at the blood left on his hand from looting the corpse, considering their haul thoughtfully. “I don’t think things rot that fast, Cellbit.”
He twitches again when Bad says his name. It wasn’t an admonishment- it was barely even an opinion Cellbit should validate, knowing how long it takes Bad to consider something rotten -but there is something yearning and grieving and desperate slinking between the muscle fibers of his heart that squirms to hear that disagreement. He’s shaking. He hasn’t stopped shaking. He wants to bite the edge of his sword hard enough that his teeth will crack into sharpened splinters. He wouldn’t need the sword, then. “I don’t- we should cook it,” he says. “Some.”
Bad snaps his fingers triumphantly, as though he’d remembered something. “Pre-digestion!” he exclaims so loudly that Cellbit flinches. No birds fly away- they’ve already been scared off. “Oh! You want to save some for later? Yeah, sure, we can do that. But we should eat what doesn’t fit in the car.” Cellbit doesn’t know how to explain that he can’t eat as much as much as Bad. Not even cooked. It fills him with- it’s not envy but it isn’t not envy, either. Some dissatisfaction.
Back in the— when he was small Cellbit had always assumed that it was Bad’s size that lead him to take the larger portion of their meals. It made sense, and he always got his fill so he was happy with it. Then, when he was grown, it was frustrating. Bad could eat an entire corpse in one sitting; Cell couldn’t even get through an entire leg. He’d realized then, gnawing at bone and just waiting to be done, that Bad couldn’t have possibly eaten an entire corpse. It was childish dreams made memory, morphed by the horror and the trauma and the things he didn’t think about. And now they’ve met up again, and these are their first corpses but Cellbit knows that despite their looting Bad’s share of the resources are always depleted, even when they come across a feast and- The clever part of him is wondering how much he’s really misremembered after all.
Bad seems oblivious to Cellbit’s thoughts. “We can smoke some of this and it’ll last you a bit longer,” he suggests thoughtfully, starting to dig through the corpse’s clothes again. “It might take us some extra time, but this place is safe enough that they set up camp, and we don’t know when we’ll get the chance again. Good idea. Do you want to carve the meat or set up the smoker?”
The thing in Cellbit’s heart writhes almost giddily at the praise. He thinks that he hates it. He misses when he could fool himself into thinking he deserved it. “The meat,” rasps its way out of his throat, proving him right.
Bad lights up. Cellbit can immediately tell that he’s up to something. “In that case- I have something for you that might make it… a little bit easier.”
“What is it?”
“Close your eyes!” The bleeding part of him wails at the thought of the vulnerability, but this is Bad. He’s only alive because of him. Fitting to die because of him, too. Cellbit closes his eyes and continues to shake. The back of his teeth are dry. There’s the sound of rustling as Bad does whatever, and then a triumphant, “Ta-da~!” Cellbit gratefully takes this as his cue to open his eyes again.
Badboyhalo is holding a knife.
Badboyhalo is holding a kitchen knife. Thumb and fingers pinching either side of the blade, handle out, an offering. It’s clean, except where Bad’s hands have stained it red.
Cellbit had been calm, before, the way you are when you’re doing what you were made for. Then he had been satisfied, and excited, and then jittery and bad and happy and satisfied and dreadful. Longing and hatred and benediction and fulfillment. The sight of the knife fades all of that out. When he grabs it, those feelings turn to static. Still there, still hunting him, but forced to back away in the face of its armed prey. The world smooths out a little and hurts a bit less.
Badboyhalo has given him a knife.
“Bad-“ he says, and doesn’t choke up about it.
Bad smiles at him. Bad beams at him. “I was waiting for a good time to give it to you. I know you’ve got your sword, but I remember you telling me that knives are your favourite. Is that still true?”
Overwhelmed, Cellbit nods a little. “Thank- thank you. Obrigado, Bad.”
“De nada!” Bad chirps, cheerful as anything. He pats Cellbit on the shoulder, gently, as his tone shifts. “The sky is still blue, Cellbit. Remember that.”
He wanders away before Cellbit can bring himself to mutter, “Mas às vezes está nublado.” But it’s just Cellbit now, and his knife, and the bodies, and no one living can hear him.
He’s already dropped the sword, he realizes abruptly, clinging to his knife with both hands. He needs to pick it up and clean it before the blood coagulates. There is meat in front of him, still warm and waiting to be processed. Still, he manages to pick up the sword and wipe it in the vicinity of cleanliness on the body’s clothes, his other hand still clinging to his knife. He cuts the clothes, and drops the sword to the side.
When the knife cuts flesh, he starts to grin again. The world turns into a loving red, and he gets to work.
-
Bad feels bad.
He doesn’t dwell on it. Guilt or grief- they both started with g. It’s probably even better, even, feeling guiltier than griefier! Take away the question of accountability entirely, hold control, do what he has to do. And he has to do this.
The log in Bad’s hands cracks. He giggles at it, then takes several quick breaths as tears rapidly pool in his eyes. He doesn’t wipe them, just carefully lays the log down into his makeshift fireplace.
Bad doesn’t like hurting his friends. It’s like a bad prank that leaves lasting damage; it leaves a bad taste in his mouth. But it’s not really all that bad, all things considered. Bad isn’t hurting him or putting him in more danger. If anything, Cellbit is safer with him. They’ve done this before- anything Cellbit can’t eat, Bad can, and they know Cellbit can eat Bad. It’s better. It’s what needs to be done.
There’s a loud lowing in the distance. Bad stills as he listens to it. Out of the corner of his eye, he notices Cellbit still carving. They found someone else tonight. Bad feels some tension leak from between his shoulderblades. They’ll be fed and full, and slow in the morning. Cellbit and Bad will have more than enough time to get packed up after a rest.
Cellbit has someone left. Bad is giving him a gift, but he can’t give it yet. Bad knew exactly what he would do if it turned out his own loved ones were still around, and he knows what Cellbit would do, too.
If Cellbit knew that Roier was still alive, he’d leave.
44 notes · View notes
dark-elf-writes · 2 days
Note
Harry as a weapon being taught to be human inbetween by Tenya and Teddy. Tenya who holds his hands and kisses his scars (forehead, hand, arm, all the scars he can find).
Class 1A seeing this broken pile of teens, who came from a war where nothing changed in the end. 1A who swears to make it right in their own world. (Not all do. Mineta is removed early after Harry uses his money to payback the donation the boy’s family made so the board wouldn’t fuss. Bakugou who sneers at everyone and won’t see the broken teens as anything but failures. Who fights for himself like another blond Harry remembers who had the same money and entitlement issues.)
Hizashi loving the nephew they never met until now. Who curses out Dumbledore with a bottle of scotch and the warmth of old friends around them.
Touya and Percy working together to rip down Endeavour. Aided by Molly who snarls her anger. She’s been unable to help Harry (in her darker dreams she wondered why she’d suddenly forgotten about the bars. Why it only came back when Dumbledore died. She was scared to know why she’d brushed it aside. She won’t let it happen again). Molly who storms Natsuo’s dorm to give him a sweater, who hugs Fuyumi. Who meets Rei with a smile (and a cloak borrowed from Harry. Rei goes missing three days later after a visit from her husband. Fleur just so happens to have her aunt visit after)
Arthur works with Nezu and flourishes. His mind and skill clicks with the small mammal who finds delight in these wizards. Arthur who discovers a boy forced to spy and opens his arms to the child. Who loves and accepts.
Geroge who finds hope in Tensei and later finds his own mark shining (only half because his twin was always part of him). Mount Lady who smiles and struts but who also has been trying more. Who saw a boy run in to save another while she did nothing and feels the sting. Who settles her shoulders, deciding she would fight back (who fights with Midnight as part of their PR but both go to a bar to bitch about it after) Mt Ldy who sees her soulmate, and decides to truly change to prove herself.
Neville who left a grandmother whom never saw him and a family who hurt him. Neville who finds his way as a UA student. As a leader.
UA is happy to open its doors as a magical school, Nezu cheerfully talking with Minerva who decided ‘fuck it’ when most of the children she cared about left. She followed after lighting Dumbledore’s portrait on fire.
Harry who forgot what it was not to be a freak or the Boy-Who-Lived. Even those closest to him turned him into a symbol in the end. A banner. He was the figurehead of their war and the man who was born to save them. Born to die for them. They try to understand but it’s hard to break six plus years of indoctrination. Harry can’t blame them for it. He’s having a hard time breaking it himself. It’s easier with Tenya being so far removed from the wizarding world. Who only sees Harry as his Soulmate rather than as a Symbol. He treats Harry so gently, so kindly, and pulls him back from that edge he was forced to walk so long. That he would still walk to keep those he cares about safe.
All, or well most with a few notable exceptions, of 1-A are just as caring to their newest classmates. The Refugees Ginny dubs their little group with a laugh full of pain and black humor. They are refugees in a sense. Survivors of a war that they won but still somehow lost in the end. The few that stood up to fight. The children that coated their hands in blood when most adults offered them up like lambs for the slaughter. 1-A can’t understand really but they are trying to. It is worlds beyond what any of them have received before.
Hizashi is another example of that gentleness, and one that understands far more than 1-A even if they still dont understand all of it. They have been a hero for years now. They know the kind of toll that it takes on the willing adults that go into it with support and training. They can only imagine what it would do to unwilling children forced to become someone more than what they are so young. To do so with only each other at their backs to count on. They offer companionship (as much as they want to bundle Harry away from the world and protect him, to parent him even, it is far too late for that now. They will never forgive the people that made them miss that chance.) offer a listening ear offer a bottle of their best alcohol when Harry finally finally allows himself to get angry about what was done to him. They teach him every curse word they know and he hurls all of them at a dead man. They hold him when he breaks mourning dozens of deaths including his own. They sit with him through the nightmares, running their fingers through his hair and humming to try and keep them at bay. They should have been able to do this before. They whisper their own curses long after Harry has fallen asleep that neither of them had the chance until so much had been lost.
Molly who will never forgive herself for what she let happen to his babies, all of them even those not hers by name, right under her nose. Who has been nursing nightmares and migraines after the war that didn’t come from the battles and trauma. That overlay her memories of a kind if timid boy to show her bruises and too knobby wrists and her children yelling at her about bars on bedroom windows. She doesn’t want to think about why these are coming now. She already knows. So she throws herself into helping her newest son, whether the boy knows he is already a Weasley or not. Into helping his siblings. Into helping his mother. She failed her children for so long and she will not do so again.
Arthur who feels as if a fog he hadn’t even noticed was lifted around the same time Mollys nightmares started. Who is able to focus to notice more. Who still loves to tinker and build things but can now pay more attention to his children to the world around him to the scars that still sit prominently on his face. He is the one that notices the spy, eyes clear and mind sharp for the first time in what feels like decades. He is the one that pulls him into the fold and swears to protect him in the way he never could for Harry. He had failed his children too. It is not something he will allow to happen again.
Neville who steps into the role of leader of their little group of refugees knowing deep down that it would kill Harry Ron or Hermione to do so. He had been a leader for a year anyway, had kept those still in Hogwarts as safe as he could for as long as he could. Far more names would have been on the memorial if he had not. It’s not hard for him to do. It is something he can endure with a smile, as much as any of them smiled now. If he was honest with himself he sort of liked it. It isn’t anything he would have thought he would be good at before. It’s nice to prove that part of himself that sounds far too much like his grandmother wrong.
Nezu doesn’t even hesitate to open a new department of UA for his newest collection of pups. Doesn’t hesitate to welcome Minerva with open arms when she comes looking for them with sharp eyes and sharper claws wrapped tightly around her wand. She was willing to fight her way through to them. Nezu opens the doors and offers her a position teaching them once again instead.
27 notes · View notes
Note
How do you meditate?
Tumblr media
When one pays attention to the resonance of the nervous system, assuming it isn't just myself, there's a sort of sprite that can be felt; a sharp point of cognito-sensory focus. Mine tends to hang above my premotor cortex. This sprite can be manipulated through visualization, but the fundamental skill is by feel alone. Moving this sprite to coordinates of this consciousness energy grid will provide immediate, tangible feelings in the tissue of your brain, illusory or not. Tingling. Buzzing. Warmth. Stretching. Fuzziness. Many different sensations come from many different parts on the brain. A skill I honed through extensive neurofeedback therapy, learning the feel of these various modalities to achieve different properties. Frequently, pushing it forward and up, as though I'm scraping the front wall of my skull, gives me a sense of warmth. I can feel the sun beating down on me, warming me. Eventually I can feel a resonance of this warmth washing over my body, rippling through the branches of my solar plexus. For more stimulating focus-oriented neurofeedback modalities, I remember feeling as though the back of my head was stretching out -- this immediately made me think of how I've heard meth users say a good dose feels like "flames shooting out the back of your head." Sometimes I "scrub" between the hemispheres of my brain with the sprite, and it sends tingles through my body. A lot you can do. But the basic concept is to understand your brain is a piece of hardware which resonates at set frequencies, and that this grid and sprite are extrapolations of said frequencies, which make it easier to feel around inside your own head.
I'm trying to get back into practice. It's been difficult for some time. I've had neurological changes which have gotten in the way, so I'm learning how to do it again. I'm attempting to focus more on general, whole-body meditation than very focal stuff. The warmth of the sun helps, I've found success with a simple mantra of "splendor solis." With that I hold onto the feeling of small successes. Of birds chirping. But the sun is a big, big focal point for me.
I hope you're not sure if I'm joking or not.
24 notes · View notes
yaut-jaknowit · 13 hours
Note
Okay lil idea! Don’t force urself to do this I had to write this down before I forget.
Fem reader who has a soothing lullaby voice while also good at singing!, reader lives in a cabin deep in the woods, hunts and build her own tools, she uses a bow and arrow, got that magnificent strong will, stubborn as shit tho, never backs down from a challenge no matter how overpowered her enemy is. Very smart mouth always fights back never fail to step back from a fight.
Fem reader x We'ar-ow
Siren Calls for a Challenge
Pairing: We'ar-ow (female Yautja) x Reader
Word Count: 3913
Summary: Deep in the woods of Alaska, far up north in the state, you have a little hut. It serves it purpose throughout the years and seasons. You live and hunt up there, far from civilization. The best life you've known. As you venture out for a hunt you've planned, there a shimmer in the tree line.
Author Note: I'm gonna be honest, I don't know if I did the smart mouthing right. I had to look up good comebacks and comments as such for this. I tried to make the reader be super sassy... I hope it works! I do love sassy reader who gives no fucks about a Yautja. I should probably write more like that.
Masterlist
Ao3
Deep in the lands of Alaska, was a small little hut that worked perfectly. Just enough space to house one person and the necessities of life. A life of hardships, surviving in world meant for kill or be killed. You enjoyed it. The challenges brought to you almost everyday. The need to hunt for you own food. Even down to creating your own weapons to hunt for said food.
Guns and bullets are useful out here, easier to use against a large predator such as a bear. Yet, to get the ammo and supplies was another thing. It required you to leave the safety of the lands and travel more than fifty miles on foot alone to reach even the nearest civilization. It wasn’t a risk that was worth when arrows are craftable out here. A more renewable source for weapons. Use what the land gives in plenty.
In the confines of your hut, your vocal cords hummed with a tune your parents sung to you while young. Though, it’s original use was to lull you to sleep, now you use to fill in the silence that pierced the air. It was a soft tune that you remembered by heart, letting muscle memory guide you. Both in song and craft
More arrows were needed before the next hunt took place tomorrow morning. The supply was running low after the wind kept knocking them off course a week ago. You still brought down the elk, a smaller one than you meant to. It’s last you the week but supplies were running low. With winter coming as well, you truly needed to stock up on food before the first cold freezes over everything. All the creatures will either hunker down or rarely venture out. You couldn’t do either of those. Your stomach still needed to be filled during that time. Plus, the extra pelts never hurt to be dried and put to good use.
The last arrow had been created and sheathed into your quiver. That was set by the door with your trusty bow. A hunting knife was hung by its sheath next to the bow. Lastly, a machete for anything that tried to be up close and personal with you. This is Alaska. A dangerous land that tried to kill anyone on it, no matter who or what you are.
.
As the sun rose high above the ground, you slipped every piece of gear needed. Hunting knife? Check. Bow and arrows? Check. Machete? Check. Food and water? Also check. Once you deem everything in order, you stepped out into the chilling air. The door creaked closed behind you.
Cool air filled your lungs to the brim and enjoyed the bitting to help you wake up then you exhaled. A short, small white cloud appeared in the air. It immediately disappeared afterwards. Perfect.
A softly smile tugged at the corner of your lips while you began a path towards a known area for elk. A spot where they frequented as of late. You didn’t want to spook them from the area so soon and have to track them down all over again. Always a balance to nature, including this. After this, you would have to find a new spot to hunt before winter fell over the area. Or else, you would be stranded with no easy food source in the dead of winter. That was lesson you once learned the hard way. All it took was that one time.
Hunger wasn’t a fun feeling.
Though, you live within the confines of nature, you enjoyed every moment you were allowed this. A peacefulness that washed over you. As if you were just taking a normal stroll out to wander around. Yes, you were on a mission but it was never wrong to breath in this life you were given. A life you were too stubborn to die from, to give up. Anyone or thing would have to rip it out of your cold, dead hands.
In a peaceful atmosphere, you were still on watch. Lax as your form was, you watched everything around. Anything that could pose a threat to your way of life. May it be a mountain lion or bear growing to comfortably around your territory. You made a mental note inside of your head. Then, later on, a plan would be devised on how best to solve this situation all by your lonesome. There was no backup, no other savior this deep into Alaska. It was just you out here. Just you.
Light, carefully placed steps took you from the cozy little cabin you called home. Deeper into the forest, tracking down prey you needed to eat. With such knowledge, muscle memory guiding you, you reached the known grazing area and stopped just shy of the tree line. The meadows were void of larger life. Only soon-to-be wilting grass filled the open space. You hunkered down in a bush and took a couple sips from your water. It was refreshing over your tongue, cooling down your slightly warmed body. The hike long and helps warm up your body.
In the brush, you pulled your bow free from your torso and notched an arrow. Like the predator you’ve become, you wait as one, never faltering your gaze from the open meadows before you. Today, you were taking home next week’s food.
The day was slightly hotter, not enough to shrug off the jacket pelt that hung off of your shoulders. The sun rose higher in the sky but never crested to hit the peak. The tilt of the earth did not allow for that. It stayed midway through the blue sky the entire time, short in the amount of hours for light.
Soon, light would be a rarity this far north into Alaska.
As your hand reached out to touch the pouch containing water, a shimmer of light your attention. You froze to the spot, breath caught in your throat.
Out on the other side of the meadows, just into the tree line, sunlight reflected off something. You didn’t dare to move, only observing as the shimmered moved closer into the meadow. Nothing instantly came to mind to supply what this could be from. It wasn’t like light reflecting off of a cats eye. It was also too light for that to be. Your muscles grew taunt, ready to spring into action at a moments call.
From the corner of your eye, you noticed movement and had to take your gaze off of the shimmer. Elk. A herd of elk you’ve grown to know pranced into the meadow. A spot known for their grazing. The group bowed their heads and began to snack away at the grass.
The shimmer caught your attention again yet goes unnoticed by the prey animals. Downwind from them, you waited for a single elk to walk just close enough to strike down.
The herd dispersed a little, spreading out and growing closer to your hunkered down. You steeled your nerves despite the disturbance across the field. The bow in hand was held tighter and prepared yourself to pull the string back and fire the notched arrow.
As you prepared for the upcoming kill shot, the shimmer was on the move. Internally, you cursed and prayed to whatever god would listen to you this thing wouldn’t disturb your hunt. Just don’t spook the herd! That’s all you could ask for. It could be weeks before they returned to spot if it scared them badly.
Before you could comprehend the sight unfurling before you, one of the elks laid dead on the meadow. A large axe lodged into his head, nearly splitting the skull into two. The creature officially dead with no chance of escape. Your jaw dropped at that alone.
Then, the air was caught in your throat.
Pink, cream, and purple. A humanoid form stood at the down elk, easily dwarfing it. Adorn in metal armor, a mask covered the entirety of its face; hiding away what hid below. Four long… dreads hung over its shoulder. Then, the rest were tied up behind its elongated head shaped slightly like a dome on top. That was all you could get from the distance away.
All the other elk scattered like the prey they are. Anger flared to a blazing heat behind your sternum. With little care of what this thing was, you marched out into the field like a crazed hunter. Your steps were loud and easily announced your presence to this creature. This damn thing ruined your hunt and made you lose your next week’s food. Worst of all, this probably scared off the herd. They won’t return for some time. A growl rumbled in the back of your throat.
A blank, metal expression snapped up at you. That didn’t deter you in the slightest. You got within twenty feet of it before a bone rattle snarl bore through the rather quiet air. That stopped you in your tracks. A warning. A threat. If you stepped an inch closer, you would end up like its downed prey.
You still set a glare on the unknown, faceless creature. A challenge burning in your heated eyes. “You stole my kill. You ran off the herd. You spooked them! They won’t come back here for weeks,” you accused, knowing this thing couldn’t respond back to you. Humanoid or not. This wasn’t a human. Not with its height or the strange shape of its head. But it messed with your hunt. You weren’t about to let that slide.
Behind its emotionless mask, clicks and hisses sounded. It sounded like it was grumbling to itself. As if you were just some gnat that was annoying it. Your hand tightened on your bow, straining the wood under you palm. “You ruined my hunt,” you spat at it and pointed a finger at the unknown creature.
It snorted, muffled, and leaned down. The hatchet was swiftly pulled from the skull of its kill. The weapon twirled in its fingers. A skilled trick just show you how well it was versed with the axe. Your free hand drifted to the machete latched to your hip, ready to defend yourself.
“I did no such thing.” Soft in its tone yet told you about a chapter in its life of battle. Your grasp on the weapon nearly dropped it to the meadow’s grounds. This humanoid figure that clearly wasn’t human spoke to you.
Your eyes only flinched for a second before the glare was returned in full force. “Yes, you did! I set out this morning and waited in the brush since then for them to return here. They are a herd I follow. I know their pattern. You just scared them off!” Your body was shaking with anger. The comfort of your life had been disturbed by this thing.
The humanoid figure brushed you off by kneeling down. A knife was pulled free from a sheath at its side. With practiced movements, it sliced through the belly and began to clean its kill. This was hunter. It was too precise with the cut, the way it scooped out the guts. Your eyes narrowed on the creature and stepped closer.
An axe stuck out of the ground before your feet. Your gaze snapped down to it, nonchalant about its threatening manner. “You think that scares me?” you mused with a dangerous grin. You knew your prowess and were willing to challenge this creature for its hunt. “I’ve face worse than whatever you are.”
Without taking your eyes off of it, you leaned down and plucked the weapon from the ground. It wasn’t meant for you hand. The size and weight weren’t something even the average human would use. Yet, you still twirled it, testing its weight. “I think this mine now.” An shit eating smirk spread your mouth wide as you looked at the kneeling figure.
The growl it released shook the very ground you stood on. But, that didn’t deter you. Like any other predator who wonders into your territory, you’ll just beat it back until it learns its lesson.
It rose back to a standing position, body tense, ready just like you. You only shifted slightly into a less cocky stance and prepared to fight if it came down to it. This creature easily towered over your form, that much you could tell with the distance between you. That didn’t deter you. Instead, that only pushed more adrenaline into your veins, heart pounding into your ear.
“it’s only fair I keep this. Deny all you want, but you ruined my hunt. I feel like you need to pay for it. Either with me taking this as payment-“ you held up the hatchet- “or possibly with shed blood may sedate me enough.” The long-handled weapon was twirled again, showing off the fact you knew how to handle it.
Behind the mask, it scoffed and rolled its shoulders. “You didn’t have rights over this hunt,” it snarled at you and pulled out another hatchet on its other hip.
“I’d agree with you but then we’d both be wrong,” you snarked dropped your bow onto the ground and used the newly freed hand to grasp at your machete. Both of your hands filled with a weapon. One you were far more knowledgeable then the other.
The soles of your self-crafted shoes dug into the soft earth. Your muscles helped you launch yourself forward, straight at the creature. Instantly, you took up the offensive position. Your moved were swift, bringing down the hatchets blade  to bed itself into the creatures shoulder. An action it caught onto quickly. You weren’t looking to kill, only maim.
This newer weapon was harder wield than your machete, a different fighting style in general. It left you open for attack. The hatchet held high above your head to bring down onto its skin.
It darted backwards and started its own offensive attack. A battle of dance, trading blows and swings. Neither figure willing to back down. There you were, keeping up with this thing. Though, only by the skin of your teeth where you able to skim past without losing a limb.
A slice cut at your side, tearing your shirt open. Fresh, hot blood graced the open sky and dripped down your skin. You snarled, teeth bared in a whole show of unbridle rage. The beast returned the gesture with a bellow that shook your bones. You bared more down on it with a slash that drew its own blood and dipped the tip of your blade with neon green fluids.
The two of you trading dodges and hits the same. You were able to keep up with a beast such as it.
More cuts opened your skin. None of them fatal.
Both of you backed away from each other. Sweat clung to your skin uncomfortably, doing its job in cooling down your overheated body. Your shoulders heaved with panting breathe as you surged for air and studied the beast after a timeless battle. It took panted, chest expanding with each inhale.
“I didn’t expect for you to be able to put your money where your mouth is. If you have one. I’m impressed,” you mused and rolled one of your shoulders. An ache growing in the taunt muscles. “It’s time to leave. I told you; this was my food for the week.”
Either it straight up ignored you or just didn’t bother to care. You were quick to find yourself back into a harrowing battle with it again.
“Whoa, whoa. Hold your horse, there’s-guh! There’s plenty of me to share. Gotta keep some of it for the ladies though,” you jestered. The grin returned to your face. The hatchet’s blade skirted past the spot you once were a second before. “Man, you truly want to break off a piece like a kitkat bar.”
A small pout passed over your features when it didn’t even make a chittering noise. “it’s okay if you don’t like me. I know not everyone has good taste.” The creature only faltered for a second but left you a moment slice along its pink thigh. The creature snarled and whipped its axe towards you. Barely missing your scalp if you didn’t duck just in time.
“Oh, you missed me!” Despite not seeing its facial expressions freely, you read the irritation clear as a sun day. The muscles that lined its forearms flex while it gripped the wooden handle tighter. You thought it was about to cleave your head into two when it had the chance.
Something caught the heel of your foot while dodging a particularly deadly swipe. You gasped and teetered over straight onto your rump with a grunt. This was the end. The dance had ended with you making a fatal mistake.
Instinctively, you brought up your machete to block an knowingly incoming blow. Pain exploded in your  forearm as a weight bared down on it. You choked on spit and fought underneath the tremendous weight, but it was futile.
A blade was pressed to the vulnerable part of your throat. One swipe and everything would be over. You swallowed down the lump building in your throat and looked up at the winner.
Behind its massive head, a halo of light framed it. Like a god or goddess peering down at your injured form. The seconds began to tick on by. The only sound in the air being the two of you panting to regain a balance. Your tongue darted out to wet your dry lips.
It never came for the killing blow.
“If you’re expecting me to beg for my life, might as well finish your cleaning. You won’t get anything from me,” you spat though there was a slight tone of respect in your voice. It fought well again you and became the winner in the end.
More weight was shifted onto your arm as it shuffled above you. The hatchet was pulled away and latched onto its belt. You knew at a moments notice, it could whip it back out and finish the job. Then, it’s stolen weapon was plucked from your smash arm and sheathed all the same. You clenched your teeth together in both the pain and disappointment it got it back from you.
“Can you at least give me the curtsey of knowing who and what you are before you kill me?” you questioned, tone still firm but with less anger in it. You truly wanted to know what this thing was. At least you could take that knowledge with you before it took your life.
Weaponless hands, one pinched your chin and tilted it up so you could face it. The other reached up and pulled at two tubes attached to its head. A small hiss entered the air before it tugged the metal mask free from its spot.
What was revealed wasn’t something you would ever expect. You nearly cringed at the sight. This wasn’t anything known to mankind. As if a crab was turned humanoid with a face like that.
Four mandibles or fangs adorn its completely inhuman features and twitched every once in a while. Hidden behind those were more teeth you didn’t wish to meet at anytime. Then, orange pupils that could possibly glow in the dark peered down at you. A predator look set on your pinned form. This thing screamed predator. A creature born, built for the hunt.
The hand on your chin stayed and forced you to keep looking into its eyes. “You would be dead by now. Your head hanging from my belt. Consider yourself lucky that I spared your life. I see potential in yout skills. I want to help develop those skills. I will not let them go to waste. You need a teacher.” That voice, less muffled this time.
“Wow, sparing my life? I feel so honored.” Even after escaping death, not fully though, you were still being smart mouthed.
It tightened its grip. “I might take back my offer.” The creature leaned down crowded into your space. You flashed your teeth at it with a grin.
“Nah, you wouldn’t. Seems like you already like me too much to do that.” You don’t know how you do it but you act like this was conversation with an old friend. It growled and shoved your head to the side but never made a move to gut you like the elk.
Then, it stood back up, towering over your laying form. You sat up and rubbed at your wrist you knew surely was going to bruise later today. “You still didn’t answer my questions.” If you were going to work with this beast, you would like to a put to its strange face.
At this point, the two of you caught your breaths. Its chest expanded with a deep, heavy breath. The beast turned on its heel to look down at you with a critical eye. “I’m called We’ar-ow. You will learn later what I am once I deem you worthy of the information.” You faked gasped and got up, placing a hand over your heart.
“Oh come on! We just had a battle to a near death,” you whined. “I feel like I’ve earned it.” The machete you once bore was sheathed back into its spot on your hip. Your body now sliced with multiple cuts that will require some medical assistance but not at that very moment.
All the pink beast did was look down at you with a neutral expression. Despite the difference of features, you felt it was universal for the expression to mean the same. “Fine. If you can’t answer me that, can you at least tell me if you’re an alien or not.” Still with cheeky smirk on your face. Yeah, you’ll learned it could if it so wishes. Why not tempt fate while you’re at it?
Its pink back met you, long legs striding away from you. The creature turned its head to look over its shoulder for a second. “Yes.” You jumped up and thrusted a fist in the air.
“Ah-ha! I knew it.” You scrambled after We’ar-ow, not wanting to wander too far from it. “So… what happens now? You said I had potential or something.” You were forced to trot next to the newly friended creature. The steps easily dwarfing three of your own.
We’ar-ow, if you remember correctly, knelt down at the belly of elk it once worked on and returned to cleaning its kill. “You will quiet down and stop asking many questions,” she snapped at you but didn’t even look over at you, focused on cutting out unneeded parts.
“Well, that’s going to a problem. I want to learn, that requires questions.” You had the creature caught then. It grunted underneath its breath and sheathed its blade after wiping it off. “I can carry that if you want.”
Orange eyes glanced over at your smaller frame. Yes, you were muscular for having to survive in a wilderness that was more than happy to kill you. The creature dipped its domed head and stood up.
You walked over to the dead elk and glanced at We’ar-ow. “Watch and learn from the master.” You crouched down onto your haunches, careful of your weight and maneuvered the downed elk onto your shoulders. A single push and you were back to a standing position, proudly looking at We’ar-ow. “Where to master?”
Oh, you were going to have fun with this creature.
27 notes · View notes
lycheeloving · 2 days
Text
ANOTHER MULTIVERSE FIC because I can't stop myself, apparently. An injustice!Superman one, this time. I imagine you were a small-time hero/vigilante in this one, so Superman knew (and liked) you before he turned bad, but you weren't super close, before.
-You wake up in an unfamiliar room, tied to a chair, not knowing how you got there. Kal doesn't ever let you leave the fortress. But you don't know how anyone else could have gotten in to take you here, wherever here is. Maybe it was Kal? But why would he do that?
-You spot a woman tied up in another chair next to you, it seems like she also just woke up. She reminds you of someone, but you can't remember who exactly... You want to ask her if she knows more about what's going on, when you realize you're both gagged. Shit. You can't even communicate with her!
-A man comes in, rambling something about how he's glad you're finally awake and about his plan finally taking shape. You feel like you should know this guy, but can't quite put a finger on it...
-Being unsure if you know who he is, as you're "not from here", he introduces himself. He's Lex Luthor.
-Wait. Lex Luthor? The Lex Luthor? The dead one, who was killed by Superman? Is this a prank? Because if so, it isn't funny at all. And quite dangerous for everyone involved.
-Luthor (if that is his real name) then focuses on the woman next to you. He addresses her as "Mrs. Lane".
-Lane as in Lois Lane? Like, Lois Lane from the Daily Planet? Clark Kent's, Superman's wife? Now you know something is extremely wrong. She's dead, too, and everyone knows not to mention her name unless they want to face Superman's wrath... You make a few muffled sounds beneath your gag, itching to ask about just what is going on here.
-Luthor says he's going to explain everything, don't be so impatient! He has a machine that can open portals to parallel universes, which is how he got you here. His plan includes kidnapping the person that is most important to Superman in his own universe (Lois Lane), the person most important to Superman in a second universe (You!) and then making the Supermen fight each other by threatening your lives. The only way to save you is if one Superman dies. This room is Superman proof, he can't hear or see anything that's happening in here, so they can't just swoop in and save you. After the fight, he's going to let the winning Superman enter this room, promising him that he can rescue Lois or you. Except not really, because he's going to try to kill the winner too, because that should be easier after he just fought another Superman, right? He hasn't opened a portal to let the Superman from your universe know about how he can save you, yet. He closed the portal he got you through immediately after kidnapping you, so he had more time to prepare everything. How he found you? Something about being able to detect kryptonian dna residue on you. And you were in Superman's fortress. Easy to combine that you must be important to him.
-That's... actually not a terrible plan! Sure, it might not work out exactly the way that Luthor is planning, but beating Superman with Superman is a great idea! Actually it'd be great if Luthor got a third one here. Two Supermen should definitely be able to defeat one Superman, right? Unfortunately you can't communicate any of this through your gag. Damn, you'd love to help him improve his plan...
-You wonder if he chose your universe completely randomly, or if he chose an evil Superman on purpose. You don't think he did, he didn't mention the regime with one word, and if it existed in this universe he wouldn't be working on this stupid plan. And Lois wouldn't be alive, probably.
-Before you can let your thoughts spiral even more, Luthor falls over. Huh? Is he unconscious? You spot Batman coming towards you. Ah. That explains that, then. Man, you haven't seen Batman in such a long time...
-"Are you two alright?" He quickly cuts through the ropes tying you to the chairs, freeing you. "Good thing you used your bat emergency-signal, Lois. I was able to get to you before Superman could fall for Luthor's trap." Wait, why would Lois contact Batman? Oh, right, sometimes you forget that he and Superman used to be friends, so obviously his wife would trust him too.
-He takes off both of your gags and then turns to you. "We figured out you're from a parallel universe, but don't worry, Nightwing is currently working on a way to get in contact with the Superman from your dimension, so-"
-"NO!", you scream, making Batman look at you in confusion. You quickly tell him to contact Nightwing, to make him stop trying to open a portal or god forbid, contact Kal!! Noticing the urgency in your voice, Batman quickly complies and lets Nightwing know to stop what he's doing, before asking you to elaborate. Phew! The last thing you need is an angry Superman wreaking havoc in a second universe.
-You start explaining to Batman about how your Superman started changing for the worse after Lois died (sparing the details, as she's kind of sitting right next to you), started to get darker, kill villains, everyone who did something bad, people who disagreed with him. Other heroes, even. People he used to be friends with. How everyone who didn't agree with him and join his regime, including you and Batman, had to go into hiding, trying to find a way to stop him. Clark, no KAL-EL found you at some point, but instead of killing you, he unexpectedly took you, basically imprisoned you. Kept you like a pet who's not smart enough to make their own decisions. (You never even knew he liked you like that at all, before that. Sure, he was always nice to you, but he had Lois!)
-Lois seems visibly shocked, whereas Batman just listens to you stoically. "All this to say, it's good to see you alive, Lois!" You smile weakly. She tries to smile back, but before she can respond, Batman cuts her off. "We should leave this place. I doubt it's very safe here. We should return to the Batcave, think of a plan." You spare one last glance at Luthor, who's still lying on the floor (Are we just going to leave him here? Huh. Ok.), then follow Batman outside.
-As soon as you're out of the building, something rushes past you. "Lois! Are you ok? Did he hurt you?" Not something. Someone. You try not to flinch as he fusses over her, while she reassures him that she's fine multiple times.
-After he's convinced she's not hurt, he turns to you with a gentle smile. "Hello! So you're close to the Superman in another dimension, then?" As he takes a step towards you, you instinctively take a step back towards Batman. Clark frowns at him quizzically. It's funny, he almost looks like a confused puppy. You would smile if you didn't know that this is all a facade to distract from his god-like, destructive powers.
-"Turns out the other version of you is some kind of evil dictator." Well, leave it to Batman to get straight to the point. Clark opens and closes his mouth a few times, thinking about what to say. "Well, I can assure you that I'm not like the Superman you know. I promise you, I'm a good person! At least I try my best to be one. You don't have to be scared." His voice is getting increasingly gentle, trying to reassure you.
-"Oh yeah? That's exactly what the Superman from my dimension would have said, before..." You don't mention his wife's death, not wanting to anger him. "The same thing could happen to you. You might be nice now, but who knows what the future holds?" As you're saying this, you slowly move slightly behind Batman. Just in case. He should have some kryptonite on him, right?
-Superman just frowns harder, then turns to Lois. "We should go home." He picks her up and turns to Batman. "Contact me as soon as you have plans for... handling the other me." With that, he takes off.
-Batman ushers you into the Batmobile, where Nightwing (another ghost, to you) is already waiting. You keep turning to look at him during the drive to the Batcave, while Bruce explains the situation to him. If they notice your weird looks, they don't mention it.
-You allow yourself to feel some hope. Maybe you can contact your Bruce? Help him out! Send a few still good Supermen! Your head is spinning with ideas, and you're sure Batman can come up with even better ones. You can't help but smile, your nightmare might finally be over...
22 notes · View notes
tj-crochets · 14 days
Text
Hey y'all, I am blanking on a word so hard I am even blanking on the words to describe that word What's the term for like...groups of colors? color palettes but more specific? I'm looking for the generic term, but the specific words that are versions of that generic I can think of are things like earth tones, jewel tones, pastels, and maybe brights/neons I'm trying to figure out other categories like those but I cannot figure out what the word is to search
26 notes · View notes
synthshenanigans · 6 months
Text
New song reminded me. I can't remember if I posted it here or not but I have a google doc for HMS/CJ art references! Its got a good amount in there so should help lol. I usually update as soon as I can with a new song.
48 notes · View notes
ssspringroll · 2 months
Text
did i ever tell you guys i 3d printed Waay'los
Tumblr media
this picture is ancient (1 or 2 phones ago) i tried to find him to take an updated picture but hes MISSING ;-;
but i plan on re-printing him. maybe even doing another pose. maybe even subdividing his legs a little so they arent so damn polygonal
13 notes · View notes
mctreeleth · 1 year
Text
Big Dice Update:
The metre tall dice is very good but it is difficult so say that is bigger than some of the other “biggest” dice I have seen, and now that the technique has been worked out it isn’t that hard to do the math for the next size up, and the sewing is not technically challenging it is just slow, so like, I may as well go for broke in my attempt to make the biggest roll-able D20 there is.
I found some $4 a metre light grey canvas at Spotlight while I was home over the long weekend but they only had 5 metres of it and I needed 10. Fortunately the one up here in the city also had some, so I now have the 10 metres required to make both the 135cm (bigger than the biggest roll-able dice I have found record of online) and 70cm (can fit through a door - just) D20s.
I have ordered a pack of rainbow dyes to colour it (I just want big random rainbow splotchy batik) which hopefully gets here by this weekend, so we can get some spray bottles and make a day of it. I still need to order a hundred+ dollars worth of zipper and twill tape, and then go back to Spotlight for about $30 of the cheap poplin for the tubes.
As always, the noodles will be the last bit bought, because these two will require another 20 of them, and my apartment is quite small.
Oh, and I would like to take the real big one to the medieval fair, which is in less than 4 weeks.
I make such good choices.
21 notes · View notes