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tathrin · 10 months

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Ehehe, hello, I am here to feed the procrastination gremlin! Those prompts all sound fun, but 21 and 28 are speaking to my heart rn.

Maybe 36 to if you feel up for it but it's your writing and you decide how many you wanna do<3

The procrastination gremlin thanks your mightily! Because I tend to Get Too Long when I write thing, I'm going to preemptively separate these out into their own posts and just assume that I'll ramble too much for it to make sense to do them all in one lmao. Also I will definitely do all three because yes more gimleaf yes. This is an ask meme that I will literally always be accepting prompts for (although if somebody sees this in the tag in like a month or so and wants to send one in, maybe include some context so that I know what that random number I just got in my inbox means? lmao). So, prompt taken from this; anyone can feel free to send other numbers in at any time. Literally.

#21....on a place of insecurity.

Gimli stared at his reflection in the round silver mirror, his hands paused even though his braids were still half-undone. "Do you ever wish that we had crossed the Sea sooner?" he asked.

Legolas blinked at him, cocking his head in that familiar birdlike tilt of confusion that Gimli knew so well.

"Sooner?" Legolas repeated. "How could we have come sooner?" A frown furrowed his smooth, beardless face; a temporary crinkling of skin that would never show the faintest wrinkle. "You mean before Aragorn died?"

"You're right," Gimli sighed. He tugged at his braids, their once-bright copper laced so heavily with strands of silver that he sometimes felt like he had just walked out of a snowfall. "We could not have, of course. But...do you ever wish..."

"Leaving sooner would not have spared us the pain of his death," Legolas said quietly. "It would only have meant that we would not have been there for him when it happened; only have meant that we would not have been there for Arwen or their children either. Knowing of his death only from stories brought by later travelers would not have spared us anything, I do not think; knowing of his death without having been there ourselves would, I think, have only made it hurt the worse, my dear."

"Yes," Gimli said, "yes, of course. I did not mean—"

He stopped. Legolas had walked up behind him and bent down to look over Gimli's shoulder into the mirror. It should have looked awkward, the sight of Legolas's long spine arced at such an angle, but elves were spindly, lithesome creatures. Wood-elves in particular seemed to be as supple and spritely as saplings, and Gimli had yet to witness Legolas contort himself into a position that strained his pliant bones.

"Gimli," Legolas said, "what is wrong?"

"Nothing," Gimli said. He lowered his eyes and his fingers both, twisting his remaining braids into place as quickly as he could without mussing the pattern of the plaits or dropping strands. He scowled, even though he knew that doing so would only deepen the wrinkles that already lined his eyes. "Nothing is wrong."

Long, smooth fingers pressed gently on his own calloused ones until they stilled. Gimli looked down at the overlap of those long digits across his own, the one set brown and spindly as twigs yet unblemished by time or strife; the other pale as underground mushrooms and gnarled by both time and heavy forge-work.

"Gimli," Legolas said. "Tell me."

Gimli turned his hand so that he could enfold those long brown fingers in his own and gave Legolas's hand a reassuring squeeze. "Nothing is wrong, my love," he said again. "I am only feeling melancholy this morning, it seems. Think no more upon it."

He raised the elf's ageless hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to those smooth knuckles, then released it so that he could continue with his braids.

Legolas did not rise. Instead he dropped lower to fold his arms across the back of Gimli's chair, his bright eyes studying the sight of the dwarf before him in the mirror. Gimli avoided his gaze, focusing instead on the intricate plaits that hung from his chin, but he could feel the weight of Legolas's eyes passing over his face, searching for the answers that Gimli would not give him.

He did not find them.

"Will you not tell me?" Legolas asked at last. His voice was soft, his eyes full of sorrow. "Please?"

Gimli sighed and let the braid in his hands droop loose and unfinished down his chest.

He looked up into the mirror again at last and met Legolas's searching, worried eyes there. He looked at that smooth, beardless, beloved face waiting there behind him; unchanging and unchanged from the day they had first met so long ago and far away in Rivendell.

His eyes flicked sideways to his own reflection, to the wrinkles that time had carved beneath his beard; to the strands of silver that wove through the bright copper braids that hung before him. He reached out and pressed his fingers to the mirror, to the sight of the lines around his eyes, and sighed.

"I would not be so old," Gimli said quietly, "if we had come sooner; that is all. I only wonder if you wish, sometimes, that we had. That is all."

Time did not pass in Aman the way it did in other places; or if it did, then it did not feel as though it did, and it carried no trace of decay with it. Gimli had not aged a day since they had first set foot upon these white shores—but he had aged two hundred and sixty-two years before that.

He was still hale and hearty, for dwarves—especially the dwarves of Durin's line—often lived many years longer than that, and rarely weakened before the very ending of their days came upon them. But he was no spritely youngster of sixty-two, either, moping because his father had deemed him too young to go along on a Quest; nor was he a mature youth of not quite one hundred and forty, boldly striding forward at last upon a Quest of his own, all bright brown eyes and ruddy copper beard.

Gimli was old, now, and he looked it. He could see it every morning when he looked in the mirror to do his braids, or every afternoon when he caught sight of his reflection in the cooling barrels at the forge or in some clear, still pool that held Aman's crystal waters. He could see it, and he knew Legolas could as well; how could he not, when he was surrounded by the contrast of all the smooth, beardless, ageless faces of his people?

"Are you tired?" Legolas asked, and his light voice was a dry croak. Shadows as thick as Mordor's fogs filled his eyes, and Gimli turned from the mirror with a cry and caught Legolas's hands with his own.

"No!" he cried. He knew that Legolas was not asking after Gimli's slumber, or weariness from working the forge; was not asking about anything as simple as a day's ordinary exhaustion. He was asking if Gimli was tired of life; if he was tired of eternity. If he was ready, at long last, to claim the gift of his own mortality.

"Legolas, no," Gimli said, squeezing those spindly fingers so tightly that had they been the frail twigs they seemed they would have snapped beneath the pressure of his grip—but elvish flesh was strong, so much stronger than it looked. So were dwarven spirits, and Gimli had no intention of ever growing weary of the world, not so long as Legolas was in it. "I promise," he assured his elf, raising first one hand and then the other to his lips. "Never, Legolas. I am here with you, and I always will be."

Legolas's smile trembled, but it was a smile. Gimli counted it as a victory, and pulled the elf up out of his crouch and into Gimli's lap. He had too much leg to fit on such a short chair, of course, but the two of them were used to that problem; it was no effort at all to fall into the long habits that had his ankles curling sideways under the chair, his elvish flexibility making easy work of the awkward position.

"Then what troubles you?" Legolas asked. He snaked his long arms around Gimli's shoulders and leaned his beardless cheek down to rest upon Gimli's head. "My love, please. Tell me."

"I am old, Legolas," Gimli said. He unwrapped one hand from the elf's slender waist to press his fingers to the cobweb of wrinkles beside his eyes. "You can see it plainly on my face. Old, as no one else in Aman ever will be."

"Bilbo is old," said Legolas.

Gimli rolled his eyes. "Yes, all right," he said. "And Sam, too. But aside from them, everyone else here is an elf—"

"Or a maia," Legolas interrupted. "Or one of the Valar. Or—"

"My point," Gimli cut him off loudly, "is that age is writ across my face in ways that elvish faces do not age. I am only sorry, my dear, that I can do nothing to erase those lines, these streaks of silver; only sorry that you cannot spend eternity beside a dwarf in his prime of life, but must instead contend with these wearisome wrinkles."

Legolas drew away far enough that he could gape down at Gimli. "Wearisome?" he repeated. "Sorry? Gimli!"

"I know, I know," Gimli soothed, "it is a little enough thing, I suppose, and I am not ungrateful; I am only sorry for your sake, my dear—"

"Sorry!" Legolas said again. "Gimli, you everlasting fool of a dwarf! Is this what you've been fretting over all this time?

"...Yes?"

"Gimli!" Legolas squawked. "Oh, my beloved idiot! I feared you were growing tired of forever, and were going to have to leave me! Instead you've just been pouting over how handsome you are?"

"Handsome!" Gimli exclaimed. "Legolas, enough. I am sorry beyond words that I made you worry, but that is no call to mock me—"

"I do not mock," Legolas said. His lilting voice for once was as firm as stones. "I adore every inch of you, Gimli. Yes, even the wrinkles; yes, even the silver in your beard!" He shook his head, scowling down at his dwarf. "Perhaps especially the silver in your beard, for it gleams like mithril in the moonlight, even as the ancient lights of lost Trees are said to still gleam in the locks of the Lady Galadriel, oh Lockbearer!"

Gimli sputtered, heat rising fast in his cheeks. He tried to push the elf away, but Legolas tightened his grip upon his shoulders and refused to be budged from Gimli's knees.

"And your wrinkles," he continued in a softer voice, "are the signs that our years together have etched upon your face, even as your clever hands carve beauty into simple metal and plain rocks. How could I help but love them, when they trace our story out upon your face for all to see?" Legolas leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to the sparkle of crows-feet that framed first one eye and then the other, then traced the deep tracks that lines Gimli's mouth and nose beneath his beard. Finally he raised Gimli's hand and pressed a long kiss to those ruddy, wrinkled fingers.

"Legolas, I...I feel I've been a fool," Gimli murmured. He found himself once again unable to meet Legolas's eyes, this time because of the blush that darkened his cheeks with a blaze of hot mortification.

"You have been," Legolas agreed, "but fortunately I knew you for a fool long before I knew you for anything else, my love, and so I am not bothered overmuch."

A watery laugh spilled from Gimli's lips, and he could not help but smile. "And you are as irritating and irreverent as ever," he retorted.

"Of course I am," Legolas agreed, and hopped up off Gimli's lap and the low chair upon which he sat and grinned down at his dwarf with a twinkling smile. "Some things do not change with the passage of time—but even though my face does not show it, I have very much been changed by knowing you, my dear Gimli, and I would not trade a second of it in exchange for a single lifted wrinkle or silvered hair."

"Well," Gimli said, "I am glad to hear it, and sorry now that I did not voice my concerns sooner."

"So am I!" said Legolas. "But I cannot hold it against you when I did not voice mine either, although in my case it was because I feared to pressure you into extending your time in life beyond your own comfort for my sake alone."

Gimli stood and took his elf's hands in his and held them tight. "Forever is only barely enough time to spend at your side, Legolas," he said, "but as it is all the time the world will give us, I will take it; but I will accept not a second less than that, and would not see that time shortened for any reason even if it was only for your own comfort, and not my own. I can think of no greater purpose for one's life than to bring comfort to one whom I so love."

Legolas beamed down at him, his pale eyes bright with unshed tears. "Well!" he said. "That is all sorted, then!"

"Indeed it is," Gimli agreed. He knew that the smile spreading behind his beard was the sort of soft, misty-eyed grin that Peregrin Took had always labeled "absurdly sappy," but he could not help himself; he felt as though he was fairly brimming-over with love, and he could not contain himself from letting it show upon his face, erstwhile sappiness be damned.

"In that case," Legolas said, his damp gaze dancing suddenly with dry mischief, "let me get you out of that tunic and into our bed and I will find all your other wrinkles and properly express my love for them, too."

Gimli decided he could finish his braids later.

#first thought on this one was actually going to be legolas being insecure about his ''naked'' chin when visiting erebor or aglarond #and gimli reassuring him that he thinks legolas is beautiful even without a beard and he doesn't care what any other dwarf thinks #but then my fingers started writing this one instead so. here we are in aman again whoops.#also you should know that around about paragraph three or four i was SURE that this one was going to be short #and i was going to eat my ''oh gosh my stuff always gets too long tee hee!'' words on this one #NOPE!#lmaooooo #these fucking idiots just do not know when to shut up! (and neither do i)#gimleaf #gigolas #gimli #legolas #ask meme #send a kiss meme #lotr fanfiction #my writing #my stuff #aman #lotr #anyway fair warning this one gets a little sad but then it's happy again in the end #because these two are so relentlessly untragic they cannot help but have a happy ending always no matter what #and anyway isn't that just the elvish experience in a nutshell? (except happier because it's them and they're Like That)#this ship sails itself all the way to valinor

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franklyshipping · 8 months

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Consequences Of The Wilderness ~ A Jacksepticeye Ego Fanfic

HERE WE HAVE THE FIRST FIC FROM THE NEW PROMPT CYCLE! This is courtesy of the wonderful Jameson/Marvin anon, thank you so much for sending this in! It's time to have fun with our favourite septic survival guy + the best dad... LET'S DO THIS!

Angus had been trying to figure out for a while what exactly it was that made Chase the most incredible father. There were endless factors to consider: his patience, kindness, the way he gave his time, how he helped his kids feel like they were listened to. But Angus had discovered a factor more important than all of these. Somehow, Chase had retained the ability to remember what it was like to be a child, and never attached shame to “childish” things. That meant whenever his kids had a nonsensical, wild, silly idea, they knew they could always bring it up to their dad without worrying about being shamed or made fun of or told to “grow up”. The child in Chase was still alive, and Angus thought that was amazing. Though, it also meant he was having to keep his senses keen as he lead Chase through the manor’s woodland, knowing at any moment Chase could dart away into the undergrowth out of excitement.

‘Ooh, that’s burdock right?’

Chase asked, and Angus huffed out a laugh as he jogged to catch up with him. He glanced at the plant Chase was pointing to, and grinned.

‘Yep. Y’know you’re gettin’ pretty good at this.’

‘Well I’ve got a pretty epic guide.’

Chase bumped shoulders with him with his own grin. Chase was planning on having a little exploration/camping trip with his kids, and figured the expansive woodland around the manor would be the perfect place for it – but he wanted to make sure he knew what things to forage and what things to not touch under any circumstances, and so had asked Angus to give him the guided tour of mother nature. Angus was more than happy to be of help, loving teaching people about nature and survival stuff whenever he could – though he hadn’t banked on Chase getting sidetracked every five minutes by a cool mushroom, patch of moss, oddly shaped tree trunk, or every single squirrel. One of which Chase had had spotted, and darted after yet again.

‘Oh for– Chase slow down!’

‘Relax Angus I’m good!’

Angus sighed with a laugh, trying to keep pace with him whilst also keeping his keen gaze on the forest floor.

‘Yeah, you won’t be good when you get caught by one of King’s traps because you’re not watching your step!’

Chase rolled his eyes and turned to face Angus, walking backwards at the same time as he smiled.

‘Oh relax! You said they’re not dangerous and besides, I have you! What trouble could I possibly get int–AHH!’

This, is what we in the storytelling business like to call ironic. Angus gaped as he watched Chase get suddenly suspended upside down in the air, courtesy of a hidden rope loop catching his ankle, tightening, and triggering the hidden pulley system camouflaged by the nearby oak tree. After a few second of shocked shrieking and flailing, Chase realised the trap was indeed harmless, and now hung limply in the air with a red face as Angus burst into cackles. The survival expert’s mirth was full of snorts as he grinned at Chase, his eyes bright as he remarked.

‘What was that you were saying–?’

‘Don’t even start! Goddamnit– can you just get me down, please!’

Chase tried reaching up towards the rope around his ankle, but unfortunately he was nowhere near flexible enough – nor did he have a lot of stamina, since he and Angus had been out and walking for two hours already! He grunted for probably around five minutes, before once again going limp and pouting at Angus. Angus, who for the whole five minutes had not stopped laughing, had also decided to whip out his phone and take pictures.

‘This is too good. Yep, these are definitely ones for the fridge–’

‘Angus!’

Angus snorted at Chase’s indignant, embarrassed voice, and took a few more snaps before putting his phone away. To Angus, this was the most perfectly hilarious thing that could have happened and he was loving it. He came up to Chase, tilting his head down at him as he shook his head and tutted.

‘I warned you to be careful but nope, you just had to go and walk backwards of all things.’

Angus smirked, making Chase’s cheeks redden even more from the teasing.

‘Now look atcha, all strung up with nowhere to go… and out here in the wilderness, anything could getcha.’

Angus said… and something in his voice sent a little chill down Chase’s spine. Chase squirmed as Angus started to pace around him, circling him as his smile got bigger and bigger, and the glint in his eyes told Chase that something mischievous was brewing in his mind.

‘Angus… Angus c’mon, just get me down! I’ll watch where I’m going now, I promise!’

He said, but there was no dissuading the mischief that had taken root in Angus now. It was the same with every Septic ego – if there was even a flicker of mischief in their minds, it would grow into a raging fire, no matter what. Angus’ dark brown eyes flicked over Chase’s stomach, which was pretty exposed thanks to gravity making Chase’s t-shirt slip down.

‘I think you need to learn what happens when you don’t keep your wits about you in the wild.’

Angus reached out and ran his fingers along Chase’s tummy, before treating the soft skin to a flurry of scratches, drawing out a surprised squeal from the suspended dad. He burst into giggles, his dangling arms flailing wildly (and with little effect).

‘AHH! Nononohoho nohoho tihihickles noho tihihickles!’

Thanks to the might of gravity, and the un-mightiness of Chase’s limbs, kept him helpless to the tickly onslaught, which Angus found utterly delightful. He gasped in mock shock, eyebrows knitting together with faux concern as his fingers continued their dance.

‘Oh no, you’re not ticklish are you?’

Angus’ blunt nails were the star of this tickly show so far, their scrapes coaxing out sweet snorts from Chase through his giggle fit.

‘Anguhus plehehehease! Thihihis ihihisn’t fahahair!’

‘Listen man, the wilderness isn’t fair! And when you don’t watch your step then you gotta pay the consequences!’

‘Nahahaha! Lehehet mehehehe goho yohohou ahass!’

Chase retorted, and made one last ditch attempt to grapple with Angus, but the survival hunter merely chuckled and moved so he was stood behind him. Chase squealed when Angus wrapped his arms around his middle from behind so he could keep on tickling, now pinching the flesh of his stomach.

‘Oooh you almost got me there! Too bad you’re stuck huh?’

Angus teased, snickering as he gave Chase’s bellybutton a sneaky boop, earning him a cute yelp. Then Chase felt like he was being electrocuted when Angus’s nails swept to toy at his ribs with tweaks and flutters – he let out an initial howl of laughter before descending into cackles, his body wriggling like a fish on a line.

‘STAHAHAHAP OHOHO GAHAD NAHAHAT THEHERE!’

Chase babbled. Angus grinned, and lowered his voice playfully as he stroked his nails back and forth in-between his ribs.

‘Y’know, this is pretty entertaining. Maybe instead of camping we should keep you like this, then your kids could have fun tickling you to smithereens!’

I think it’s safe to say that Chase’s face was fully magenta. The most flustering image appeared in his head, a compilation of the memories of every time his kids had ganged up on him and tickled him (usually so they could get pizza, or ice cream… or both). They always found his tickle spots with their little fingers, and their delighted giggles were always so infectious! Chase knew he’d never survive if they tickled him whilst he was like this!

‘NONONOHOHO OHOHO GOHOHOD IHI’D DIHIHIE!’

Chase face was screwed up with his mirth as Angus laughed, now tracing little circles against Chase’s topmost ribs.

‘Naahhh we’d keep you hydrated and full of snacks. I bet you could go for hours.’

‘OHMYGOHOD YOHOHOU’RE EHEVIL!’

Angus laughed again. It was a deep, warm sound, the kind that would soothe you to sleep by a campfire in spring, under normal circumstances. For Chase right now it was an entirely flustering sound, and he knew it meant something completely and utterly mean was about to happen. At this point Angus’s fingertips were hovering at the base of Chase’s armpits, which were still covered by his t-shirt. Angus slowly came around to stand in front of him, and he was wearing a grin of such wickedness that it made Chase tremble.

‘Oh you haven’t seen evil yet my friend…’

Chase’s eyes widened, and he squeaked as his t-shirt was yanked down further. Angus had it so it covered Chase’s face, effectively blindfolding him whilst at the same time revealing his armpits properly. Angus smiled and cracked his knuckles nice and close to Chase’s head, enjoying how he whined at the sound.

‘This is evil.’

Angus reached out with his pointer fingers, and used them to scratch furiously in Chase’s hollows, making the man jolt and shriek with bright, hysterical laughter. I ought to say that the sound made the birds flee from the trees or made the squirrels scamper and hide, but the nature here was well-accustomed to human mirth, and so continued with all its merry chirps. Meanwhile Chase was squealing, mainly due to the fact that not being able to see was driving him crazy!

‘OHOHO MY GAHAHAD THAHAHAT’S SOHOHO BAHAHAD!’

‘Ooohhh the wilderness has really got you now!’

Angus replied, his grin wide and practically feral now.

‘NOHOHO IHIHIT HAHASN’T YOHOU HAHAVE!’

Chase retorted, his voice reaching higher and higher pitches as he laughed and laughed.

‘Are you sure? Why don’t you tell me what you see?’

‘SCREHEHEW YOHOHOU!’

Angus chuckled, and his voice slipped into a gravelly tone once again as he added all his deft fingertips to Chase’s armpits. He adopted the “light and fast” technique, keeping his strokes light whilst his fingers moved with a pace that would easily break the sound barrier.

‘Careful Chase. The wilderness doesn’t take too kindly to being insulted.’

‘AHHH OKAYOKAYOKAHAHAYSHIT IHI’M SOHORRY I’M SOHOHORRY!’

Chase rambled, his voice cracking through his laughter as the sensations, which he was still utterly blind to, drove his ticklish underarms wild. His mind kept trying to deceive him that Angus had actually just unleashed thousands of tap-dancing ants into his hollows – it was maddening! Chase knew he couldn’t take much more, hence the babbled apologies. But of course, Angus wasn’t going to give him mercy that easily.

‘For what?’

‘FOHOHOR INSUHULTING YOHOU!’

Angus grinned, focusing his flutters right at the centres of Chase’s open underarms.

‘And?’

‘AHAHAND FOHOR RUHUNNING OHOFF AHAHAND NOHOT LIHIHISTENING!’

Chase wailed, making Angus chuckle fondly before he finally ceased his tickling. His fingers went to the rope around Chase’s ankle and a moment later he was free, landing in a soft pile of leaves. Chase was the most adorable giggly heap of limbs and flushed cheeks as he hurriedly pulled his t-shirt back down, his eyes watery as he hugged and rubbed at his midriff.

‘Ohoho my gohohod…’

Angus grinned, resting his hands on his hips as he looked down at Chase.

‘You alright down there explorer?’

Chase smiled and nodded bashfully, accepting Angus’s hand up with a giggle.

‘Yeah, though I don’t know how me and the kids are gonna camp if there are secret traps like that everywhere.’

Angus chuckled, and nudged his shoulder as his expression softened.

‘Don’t worry, I’ll disable them so you guys have a safe area to camp in.’

Chase smiled at him, fiddling with his fingers as he replied quietly.

‘Really?’

‘Of course buddy.’

Angus gave Chase’s shoulder a little squeeze, his voice dimming down to a warm, soothing tone.

‘The kids are never gonna forget camping with you for the rest of their lives, because you’re an epic dad and you’re gonna give ‘em the most fun time ever. I know it.’

Chase’ eyes, already watery from mirth, got even glassier from Angus’s kind words. The two hugged wordlessly for a few moments, and Angus patted Chase’s back as the dad gave him a squeeze. When they parted Chase wiped the corner of his eye and smiled.

‘Thanks man.’

Angus smiled and winked softly.

‘Anytime. Now, you wanna see a cool clearing that’s perfect for your base camp?’

‘Hell yeah!’

Chase giggled, his face lighting up at the thought of more exploring – though when they headed off this time Chase had a more careful pace, which made Angus smirk. Angus was right too. When Chase’s kids did arrive, just as the sun was setting, Chase (with Angus as his eager helper) had created the most elaborate set-up of tents, fairy lights, snack hordes, and even designed his own little guide books with blank spaces on some of the pages, so his kids could mark down their finds and have those memories forever. That is the best consequence of the wildness: memories that are guaranteed to last a lifetime.

WOOOO HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE THIS FIC LEMME KNOW IF YA DOOO, WOO LUV YOUS!!

#jacksepticeye #jacksepticeye egos #chase brody #chase #angus the survival hunter #angus #sfw #prompt #platonic #ego fanfic #ego fic #tword fic #tword fanfic #tword #twords #twordish #twording #luv these bois

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solar-halos · 5 months

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december prompts #9 fuzzy socks<3

omg thank you for this prompt it was soso fun <3. since i got a lil carried away the odesta fluff will commence under the cut!! :D

established relationship, artsy annie cresta

It hardly ever snows in District 4, which is majorly fucked up.

Annie loves the snow. She doesn’t remember much about her Victory Tour, ‘cause the Capitol kept her so doped up all the time, but she does remember that she got to play in it a few times.

It was so deep that Annie had to wear special clothes, delighting in the way the pillowy ground swallowed her heavy boots in the strangest rendition of shaved ice she’s ever seen. Mags stood guard to make sure that Annie didn’t eat shit. She even knitted her a scarf to place around the snowman the Capitol escort taught her how to make.

District 4 doesn’t have any snowmen, but it sure does have a lot of shaved ice. Pineapple syrup drips from Annie’s chin and sizzles onto the pavement.

Johanna was so lucky. She’s been swaddled in sweaters and chugging hot chocolate since October. District 4 always seems to miss the memo, but Annie has to admit it’s pretty wicked that she and her boyfriend can still go on romantic night swims during what’s usually the dead of winter for most districts.

She shifts a bit in her flowy dress so she can sit closer to Finnick. They couldn’t venture far from his house before the entire district started getting all fucking nosey, so she’s completely content to press her freezing cold lips to his cheek from the safety of his porch.

He melts in relief, a testament to how blazing hot it is. He asks her to do it again.

She obliges. She peppers his face with kisses until he’s as sticky as the syrup baked onto her wrists. Which would probably sound a little gross if he wasn’t her soulmate and she wasn’t his.

They have little ways of protesting nasty heatwaves, though. They barricade themselves inside, air conditioning on full blast (they’re victors—they can afford to get a little frivolous), and Finnick makes all these tasty soups. Annie knits blankets and sweaters and cardigans with Mags until they’re buried under scrap pieces of yarn. They’re cozy, even if the sun streaming through their curtains would say otherwise.

She sends most of the pieces to Johanna. Johanna expresses her gratitude in the form of a letter, a bundle of fuzzy socks attached.

They’re almost as soft as snow. Finnick slips the pair with colorful mushrooms decorating the fabric onto her feet, claiming the ones with maple leaves for himself.

They scramble to their feet to show Mags their new look, sock-clad feet slipping against the tiled floor, and then promptly eat shit.

Turns out fuzzy socks were just as slippery as snow, too. Good to know. The gears in her brain start to turn when she’s reading Johanna’s newest letter, complete with a picture of ice skates and a frozen lake.

“We should go ice skating!”

Finnick doesn’t even question it, because of course he doesn’t. They’re one and the same, unlike the snowflakes they hang from the ceiling using construction paper and glitter glue, because Annie heard somewhere that all snowflakes are unique. They blast the AC so the paper doesn’t wilt, and once Finnick’s nose gets pink from the cold and Annie can feel a chill bite at her cheeks, they rifle through their winter clothes.

Annie slips on a scarf, Finnick pulls a sweater over his head, and then they spritz an extra tall swirl of whipped cream over their mugs of hot chocolate. Annie even garnishes it with some crushed up peppermint candy she bought the other day.

And then comes the best part: clearing out the stuff in the kitchen until it’s bare and completely skate-able.

They race from one end of the kitchen to the other, pushing off the wall and holding their arms out for balance as their socks glide against the tile. (Annie wins). They have a spinning contest. (Finnick wins.) They dance the afternoon away. (It was a team effort.)

Finnick doesn’t even need to grab onto her waist to twirl her around. All he really has to do is hold her hand and run around in circles like a tetherball, fingers clasped around hers in the warmest version of a hug Annie’s ever received. She giggles as a cool front whips against her scarf. They must be under a vent.

He dips her, holding her against him extra securely. She grins, so dizzy that she sees three of him.

That’s okay. She kisses him three extra times to make up for it, the gesture warming her all the way down to her sock-footed toes.

(^ live footage of johanna and annie and the gang ice skating together)

#beep beep #<3 #odesta #annie cresta #i wrote this after i finished writing a paper i’ve been procrastinating on for weeks btw #like the only reason i finished it b4 11:58 (it is due tn by 11:59) was bc i wanted to write odesta fluff #usually reward system shit doesn’t work on my brain bc duh why not just get reward now but i knew i wouldn’t be able to focus on this lol #would anyone like to read my ten pg paper on alternatives to incarceration + sentencing reform #i know i don’t #anyway SORRY let me stop yapping like i did not need to say all that..#but i’m so glad that paper is done! like finally #happy holidays #tis the season

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224terminal · 8 months

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Oh my gosh! I love Ceto so much! If you ever have time and if you’re interested, can you write a short interaction with any or all of the Octatrio? It can be a short snippet! I just want to see Jade (please make it Jade) so bothered and unsettled by her UM! Or have the both of them out in the forest collecting and harvesting their respective hobbies!

Ceto sounds so cute! I love her so much! Can she be my girlfriend? I wouldn’t mind staring into her mouth…

(Ignore that last part hahah, I’m just so in love with her)

Oh gosh! Just realized! Ceto means “sea monster”! Very clever hahahah

- - -

aaaa thank you so much for liking her!!! she's the cutest and the creepiest. <3 she fits right in with the eccentric octavinelle trio. the tags you left on your reblog are also very true!! azul would absolutely capitalize on her um, weaponizing it for his own benefit. she likes to tease everyone by opening her mouth and seeming suggestive about it just to gauge reactions hehe. the twins are her favorite two to subject to this teasing. she's a menace through and through.

and her name does indeed mean "sea monster"! i took inspiration from the greek goddess ceto, who is the goddess of the dangers of the sea and sea monsters. essentially, ceto (my oc) is meant to embody that sort of unnerving fear of the deep sea and all of the horrors it can house.

stare into her mouth as much as you would like. she has many fun (scary) things to show you. <3 and she is everyone's girl-friend. ceto proudly proclaims that, by which she means she's everyone's friend who is a girl. aaaa she's silly and annoying just like jade, which is why he makes for such a good specimen to test her um on.

without further ado, please enjoy this small scenario!!! i think the idea of jade and ceto collecting things for their respective hobbies together is a fun prompt. i imagine they have the sort of relationship where they can tolerate one another on polite and friendly levels, but both know to tread lightly as they are deep-sea predators.

ceto steps across a fallen tree as if it's a tightrope placed precariously high, her arms outstretched to retain a graceful sort of balance. though she had initially come to search the forest for interesting insect specimens, she's done no such thing in the thirty or so minutes she's spent walking beside jade, who keeps his stare trained to the ground in hopes of finding a certain mushroom species. it thrives in this part of the forest, or so he had explained, his mismatched eyes alight with an almost child-like wonder.

she hops down from the tree just as the question leaves her lips: "do you know how many teeth make up an adult human's mouth?"

jade turns to view her with a raised brow. "thirty-two," he replies as if it's easy trivia.

she hums her approval and then taps a manicured fingernail against her cheek. "compared to our mouths, that's not a lot of teeth."

"i suppose not, no."

"that's too bad." she twirls slowly, moving as if acting out steps in a one-partner waltz. it's a strange sort of whimsy that pairs well with the bright musicality in her tone. "many teeth make mincing meals easier!"

jade hums his acknowledgement, flipping through a guidebook for visual reference. ceto peers past him, brows furrowed. they've walked deep enough to have come across all kinds of fungi. she wonders what's so special about this specific species. maybe it's like a butterfly: fluttery and difficult to catch. beautifully fragile. although in jade's case, it's likely prized for its use in a terrarium or a dish and not how pretty it will look pinned to a board. maybe it's the poisonous kind. maybe it's the kind that looks poisonous but is really just innocent. an expert mimic. she can never determine which jade will choose to gather next.

"having lots of teeth is nice. if they break or fall out, we can just grow more. humans only get two sets, so they don't have the luxury of endless teeth."

"it's rather unfortunate, isn't it?"

"very much so!" skipping ahead, ceto falls into step beside him. "it's a shame, really."

jade chuckles. "if i may ask, why have teeth left you so fascinated?"

"i was just thinking. when i open my mouth, most recoil in surprise or fear. but human teeth are beautiful and terrifying all in one, yet no one discusses it as often as they do our teeth. i recently learned that the human jaw is powerful enough to bite through fingers." she feigns a shudder, her voice wavering with faux fright. "humans are scary."

"i would hope so, otherwise they wouldn't be very worthy of the title 'predator' now, would they?"

"no, not really." she folds her arms behind her back, humming once more. her feet deliberately carry her further until she stops, pivots, and stands directly in front of jade. his gait halts, and he looks at her quizzically. "for us, the idea of chewing through finger bones is fry's play. it's not very unsettling."

his eyes narrow.

"and so i've been wondering something lately—with all this talk of teeth and fear." a sharp smile tugs at the corners of her lips. "just what is the jade leech afraid of? because you exist in lots of nightmares, but you don't seem to have a nightmare of your own."

she steps towards him, and he allows it. ceto knows he's not a fool. he could draw his magic pen, use brute strength to force her into submission, but he doesn't. he watches carefully, assessing her every movement. a coward waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

"i've considered dozens of phobias and none of them seem to suit you. but i know you're not fearless. no one is. and for someone who can carve the truth from others with a single stare, i'd like to do the same. if you'd be willing to indulge me, that is."

jade smiles thinly, aiming to remain effortlessly composed, but he's looking right into her open maw, right at the alluring luminescence in the back of her throat. and perhaps it's because it delights ceto so that he does it, or perhaps it's simply because he cannot force himself to look away no matter how hard he tries. she's something of a shipwreck: brutal and cruel, yet tragically hypnotic. and were her voice that of a siren's scream or the merry cries of phantom sailors, he would be thoroughly ensorcelled.

"you're too good at masking your anxieties, jade. it's almost unfair."

the forest falls away then, patches of vibrant greenery and beaming sunlight gradually swallowed by an encroaching pitch-black void. ceto's eyes widen with anticipation, flashing a predatory pink.

"so let's find out what your nightmare is together, shall we?"

with a resonating finger snap, darkness descends all at once, leaving jade in a frigid pit of gloom with a lurking horror.

#— terminal writes #— passenger : ceto #— passenger : devintrinidad #jade returns to octavinelle looking so exhausted #and floyd sees him and is like 'anglerfish got to ya huh?'#ceto tried to use her um on floyd once and he hit her with bind the heart #and ever since then she's never tried again :)#also it's unrelated but i just realized ceto would be way too into the fnaf lore #yes she *is* showing up to the fnaf movie in her best suit #sister location is her favorite fnaf game <3

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rcreveal · 3 months

Text

A Tattoo Temptation

Beelzebub and Gabriel are hiding out in the Pacific Northwest living the van life. Learning to be an 'us' has some funny and angsty developments in this short one-shot. But the fly will save the day! Prompt: tattoos for the Jan 2024 Prompt a week challenge in Sendarya's Discord Discussion Group

Work Text:

Beelzebub sat down at the bar while Gabriel looked around appreciatively, taking in the filagreed wooden ceiling tiles, comfortable sofas, and most importantly, the keg dispensers in the back under hand-carved and painted signs of the entertainingly-named drinks. Why did humans lavish such creativity and artwork on their intoxicating beverages?

“I thought I’d invite you to a little tasting this time,” smiles Beelzebub, resting their head on their fist and exposing a finely detailed tattoo of a fly.

Gabriel smiles back, exclaiming, “Is that new? Did you make that?” gently taking Beelzebub’s arm and rubbing a thumb over the soft skin of their inner wrist tracing the iridescent eyes of the fly.

Shivering pleasantly, Beelzebub shook their head, “Nah! That would take all the fun out of it, silly angel.”

“Fun?” replies Gabriel, looking more closely.

“Thousands of needle pokes into my skin. Fun,” replied Beelzebub.

“Oh, awhhh, ewwww” Gabriel tries not to show that he’s throwing up a little in his mouth, “Right. Fun.”

Beelzebub grins, knowing how much they’ve unsettled him, “I’ll invite you to watch my next one.”

“No, no. Some ‘fun’ is better on our own,” says Gabriel, looking a little more anxiously at the kegs now. “So, what’s the surprise?”

“I wanted to introduce you to kombucha!” says Beelzebub waving at the tasting room.

Gabriel turns his head and raises an eyebrow at the demon.

Who sighs and leans forward, “You know, the rotten tea the fly suggested we try.”

“Oh, right! Rotten tea,” replies Gabriel, perking up considerably. He’d quite liked sampling the soggy rotten bread ‘beer’ at the ‘brewery’.

“I got tired of having to stop and expel alcohol from my system. You know, I can alter my consciousness all by myself, thanks. But the rotted taste is interesting. So, the fly brought me here.”

“Kombucha isn’t intoxicating?” Gabriel asks, slightly disappointed. A little intoxication wasn’t so bad.

“Nah, not as such,” Beelzebub turned to the human behind the counter sporting loose hempen trousers, the ones that looked like a full skirt had been sewn together at the bottom with just foot holes left and a sleeveless hooded puffed vest. The ensemble showed off the human’s full sleeve tattoos of intricate intertwined flowers, bones, ferns, insects, and mushrooms and they’d topped it off with rose quartz ear gauges peeking out from a slouchy knit hat and a small gold nasal piercing. With the colorful humans in the Pacific Northwest, Gabriel and Beelzebub had found that they could hide out without attracting much notice. The non-humans were even more colorful.

“What would you like to taste?” the kombucha human asked.

“Let’s try the Ginger Zen, Peach Rose, Raspberry Reishi, Blackberry Herbalism, and Skullcap Hibiscus,” Beelzebub ordered for them, Gabriel loved it when they did that.

Gabriel gratefully looked on as familiar quarter pint glasses were filled from the kegs on the back wall and brought to the bar. Sniffing them, Gabriel certainly thought they smelled intoxicating, but more floral and fruity with a bit of vinegar. He tried each in turn while Beelzebub asked for a refill of the Skullcap Hibiscus and exclaimed on the intricacy and extent of the human’s tattoos, asking after the skin poking artist’s establishment.

With a half pint glass almost to their lips, Beelzebub looks over side-eyed at Gabriel, and smiles a small, wicked smile. Knocking back the last of the kombucha and setting the glass decisively on the wooden bar, they say, “Alright, you asked for it. I'll tempt you to it. Let's go,” now lavishing a full smile on Gabriel.

Looking perplexed and pointing all the fingers of one hand at himself, Gabriel shifts his shoulders, “Asked for what?”

Leaning intimately close to him, wispy hair brushing his cheek, Beelzebub whispers in his ear, “Your first tattoo. Done the human way. I can feel you wanting it.” The demon sits back, chin tucked in, a little smug shrug, looking at him coyly from under those never ending lashes.

Mouth opening and closing while his eyebrows look like the wooly bear caterpillars they've seen crossing the footpaths, Gabriel finally closes his mouth and looks to the side before whispering loudly back, “How did you know before I did?”

Laughing lightly, “Silly angel! It's my job,” and they chucked him gently under the chin and grabbed his hand.

Calling to the kombucha human, Beelzebub says, “I'll come back for a keg of the Skullcap Hibiscus tomorrow, Riley. Gotta take this angel for his first tattoo!”

“Oh! Congratulations!! You’ll be fine! Just keep breathing.” the kombucha human gushed as Beelzebub tugged Gabriel out the door.

Together they climbed into a tall, oversized van, the kind that would make most ‘Van-life’ Instagrammers salivate with the solar panels and the inverter battery, the japandi-styled interior, ultralight birch paneling, tiny full kitchen, and wet bath. As they pulled out of the parking lot, the vanity plates spelled ‘HELVEN’ while the fly rode on the bobble-head sasquatch on the dash.

“Uh, so how does this work?” Gabriel asks while Beelzebub drives.

Smirking at him, Beelzebub counters, “The temptation or the tattoo?”

Sucking his cheeks in and looking from side to side, perplexed, Gabriel tries to choose, “Both things. At the same time, maybe?”

“Dealer’s choice, huh? That’s a dangerous thing to give a demon, angel,” and laughs at his look of unease. “Temptation first then, on the way to the tattoo part.”

Beelzebub turns back into town, “I felt you wanting something and trying to hide it from yourself, talking yourself out of wanting it, putting it away from yourself. That sort of thing sings out to demons like me.”

“But why would tattoos be bad? So many humans love their tattoos! They’re proud of them,” points out Gabriel.

Beelzebub snorts, “I didn’t say tattoos were bad! A temptation isn’t just about bad stuff. Humans hide good, bad, and indifferent things from themselves all the time! The temptation is that I’m making you really look at all the enticing bits about whatever you try to hide from yourself. I felt you being really fascinated by my tattoo, the human’s tattoos, the idea of tattoos, and trying to hide that from yourself. So. Perfect thing to tempt you with.”

“Oh. Okay. So how do human tattoos work?” asks Gabriel.

Beelzebub pulls into a parking space outside a building covered with a huge, colorful mandala mural, ‘Mystik Ink’ worked into the art over the storefront. “Let’s go inside, and I’ll show you,” Beelzebub suggests.

Walking into Mystik Ink, Gabrielle smells a mix of incense, while there’s ‘music’ noise coming from speakers and a strange high pitch buzzing breaking through the other noise. There are many upholstered chairs with humans laying down or reclining while another holds a contraption attached to some hoses. Oh! The buzzing contraption is how the ink gets in the human’s skin! Weird.

“How come the humans don’t just manifest the tattoo they want?” Gabriel asks.

“They don’t have that kind of control over their corporations, so they do it this way,” explains Beelzebub.

“Oh. Okay. What are those?” Gabriel points at posters over much of the wallspace that are covered with all sorts of designs of various sizes.

“Those are some stock tattoo designs you can choose from. They’ve got the artist’s name up top, so you can see their style a bit. That collection of squares inside a square at the bottom let’s humans use a phone to look at more custom pieces,” explains Beelzebub, continuing to lead Gabriel to the front desk. “Do you see any that catch your fancy?”

“Nah. But that poster is the first of the group starting from the left. That represents the first word in a sentence, so that must be the best artist!” declares Gabriel.

Beelzebub looks at a poster that has collected roly poly depictions of the most sickeningly cute cartoon characters ever drawn. ‘I might be a demon,’ they think, ‘but even I have limits and I cannot look at one of those on his corporation for eternity!’

“No! I mean, no, the tattoo artists aren’t ranked.”

“Oh. Okay. I don’t pick the best tattoo artist and tell them to give me the best tattoo? I’m really confused. How did you choose a design?” asks Gabriel. The human behind the front desk has wisely decided that now is a great time to take their break. This couple has some things to talk about.

Beelzebub looks a little perplexed by the question, “I wanted a fly, because ‘Lord of the Flies,’ I like flies , Gabriel! What do you like?” Beelzebub was getting exasperated. This was an unexpectedly difficult temptation. Most temptees had more of a clue about what was tempting them.

“Oh. Okay. I pick something I ‘like’ and they,” he points at the tattoo artists, “put it on my skin with those buzzing needle things!”

“Yes!” Beelzebub says through gritted teeth, “Now what do you like, angel!”

“I like you,” he says immediately.

“Obviously, but I do not authorize my likeness on your corporation,” counters Beelzebub decisively.

“I liked my legion in the big battle you and I fought in together!” says Gabriel, “Ah, those were good times! Smiting! We really…oh,” Gabriel stopped talking. He had never been good at reading a room, but even he could detect the arctic blasts coming off Beelzebub. Their whole corporation seemed to have frozen, except for their glaring eyes.

“Smiting demons, like me?” Beelzebub looked at the ceiling, their eyes were unexpectedly watery. “You know what? You passed! Temptation averted! I’m just going to go. On a walk. I’ll be back…” but Beelzebub didn’t say when they’d be back, just turned on their heel and stalked out the door, into the light rain, past their van, and down the street into the small downtown.

Gabriel looked at the receding figure and felt strangely…bad. Feeling bad about things he said or did was a new experience for him, but one that he’d been experiencing distressingly frequently with Beelzebub. This being an ‘us’ was much harder than he’d expected. The tattoo human came back from their break and looked at Gabriel and the space where Beelzebub had been and over at the closest tattoo artist who had seen the whole thing and gave a little head shake that communicated, ‘No, dude, you don’t want to ask.’

“Sooo, welcome to Mystic Ink! Did you want to get a tattoo today?” the tattoo human asked Gabriel.

Gabriel stood, deep in thought for a moment, “Yes. But I need to consult with a friend first.”

Several hours later, Beelzebub walked back to Mystic Ink. The large windows displayed the inside of the shop like a jewel box, still with several clients inside, but no Gabriel. Beelzebub knew the angel was in their van. Beelzebub let their head fall to their chest while standing in front of the door to ‘Hellven’. The two of them had named the van after this little piece of Hell/Heaven that they were making together. Some days, like today, it just felt like they were making a mess of things. Why did entering the haven they’d made for themselves feel more intimidating than leading the Dark Council on a bad day? Beelzebub raised their head and put on a neutrally bored look and entered the van.

Gabriel, who was sitting at the tiny two person table reading the van owner’s manual, looked up with an unusually grave expression on his face. Standing quickly, he said, “I’m sorry! I said the wrong thing. Again. I hurt your feelings.”

Beelzebub hovered in the stairwell, looking even further up than usual at Gabriel, kinda reminding them of looking up at Gabriel leading the legions against them. Not good. Beelzebub stepped up into the space and Gabriel sat down, looking up at them.

“You did,” said Beelzebub, sighed, “But, not on purpose,” Gabriel opened his mouth, but Beelzebub held up a hand, “Can we just call truce? Please? I’m not ready to talk just now.”

“Oh. Okay.” Gabriel said quietly while Beelzebub folded themselves into the little seat across from him at the tiny table. He studied their face while the demon looked down and away.

Breathing in deeply, Beelzebub looked up into Gabriel’s eyes with an effort, turning their head and smiling that little smile they had, “So. Did you get your tattoo?”

“Yes! I got my first tattoo!” announced Gabriel.

“Really! You went through with it!?” Beelzebub was genuinely surprised, and now a little worried about what he’d picked out. “May I see?”

“Sure,” Gabriel pulled up the right sleeve of the hooded sweatshirt he was wearing. A shiny plastic bandage covered the inside of his forearm, protecting, but not obscuring the new tattoo along the middle:

🪰***EVERYDAY***💕

Towards his elbow by the ‘Y’ were simple entwined hearts and towards his wrist and the ‘E’, a small fly

“I got this to remember the first gift I ever received,” he points at the fly.

Gabriel then points at the word, “The first gift I ever gave someone, the song, ‘Everyday.’”

“And what that means to me,” he points at the entwined hearts and looks back into Beelzebub’s face.

“This tattoo reminds me that I am learning to be an ‘us’ with you everyday. So, I’ll make mistakes, which hurt. Kinda like the tattoo hurt! But I really, really want to get it right so I’ll stick it out and not try to run out of the shop after the first letter, even though I really, really wanted to,” he looks back up at Beelzebub.

Tracing the tattoo with one finger, Beelzebub asks, “That was truly, sickeningly, sweet and expressive. Did you come up with all that?”

Raising his chin as if to nod, then shaking his head Gabriel says, “I… did not!” Beelzebub smiles with their head to the side, “Except for the part about wanting to run out of the shop after the first letter, that was all me,” he held out a finger and the fly landed on it. Gabriel says to it, “Luckily, I had a friend to talk me through the tough parts. Thanks, buddy.”

Beelzebub held out their finger and the fly jumped over to it. Raising the fly to their eye level, Beelzebub says, “Yes, thank you, little friend.”

Looking back over at Gabriel, Beelzebub challenges, “Do you know what I’m tempted to do now?”

Gabriel studies Beelzebub thoughtfully, “You’re tempted to go to a music noise gathering? But, why would that be a temptation? We’ve been to those before.”

“This one’s music and dancing. It’s called a ballet,” shrugs Beelzebub.

“What about it are you not thinking about but secretly interested in?” asks Gabriel, curiously.

“We have to get dressed up. It’s supposed to be a refined, cultural experience,” replies Beelzebub.

“Oh. Okay. Can I tempt you to a ballet?” Gabriel asks. With a small miracle, he puts on a tailored suit.

“Sure,” says Beelzebub, miracling their own suit.

Gabriel smiles to himself, “Huh, that wasn’t so hard.”

Beelzebub blesses him with a true, genuine smile.

Sometimes being an ‘us’ is hard and sometimes it’s easier, but still takes some work, thinks Gabriel.

“Are you worried that anyone will notice our frivolous clothing miracles?” asks Beelzebub driving to the performance center.

“Nah. Not with Aziraphale as Supreme Archangel, he’s a sweetheart,” Gabriel replies.

Meanwhile, somewhere in Heaven…

#good omens fanfic #short one shot #neil gaiman #fluff and romance #fluff and angst #happy ending #first tattoo #gabriel good omens #good omens beelzebub #gabriel x beelzebub #gabriel and the fly #vanlife #pacific northwest #promptfic #they/them beelzebub #beelzebub loves gabriel #gabriel loves beelzebub #post season 2

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syrupwit · 2 years

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Any Hawke/Your choice, "Cooking food to hint at feelings"? Happy Friday~

Happy Friday, Miss Gosling! Dame Gooselin? Goose. This is a fun prompt, thank you :D

Under the cut, please find exactly 400 words of purplish f!Hawke/Merrill for @dadrunkwriting.

It was a dish; that much was obvious. It was a sturdy large dish, of carved pale stone, that Hawke’s mother had likely inherited from someone. What was in it was less obvious, as was why Hawke was offering it to her.

Merrill said, as politely as she could, “Um, what is this?”

Hawke’s lovely face went startled for a moment, then smoothed into her usual mask of disdain and amusement. “You are familiar with mushrooms, aren’t you? Surely Fereldans and dwarves aren’t the only ones who eat them.” She put the dish forward a little.

Merrill looked at it. The brown-gray slop in it held shapes that might, at a squint, have once been parts of mushrooms. She sniffed the slop. It smelled like things that had been boiled for too long, and beneath that, a bit of lard for seasoning. Not really like mushrooms.

“I hope you didn’t gather these yourself,” she said to Hawke. “Mushrooms can be dangerous, and it’s easy to poison yourself by accident unless you really know what you’re doing. Even I make mistakes sometimes. This one time when we were out near Sundermount, Isabela and I—”

“Yes, yes, you and Isabela,” Hawke interrupted, sounding peeved, and drew the dish back. “I bought these at the market in the alienage. Children were eating them when the seller’s back was turned, so I assumed they were fine.”

“You were in the alienage?” Secretly, Merrill was touched. She liked spending time with Hawke, even if they didn’t see eye to eye on many issues, and it would be lovely if she got more involved in things around the alienage. “Why didn’t you stop by and see me? I could have shown you how to cook the mushrooms properly.”

Hawke’s mouth turned down, and her shoulders hunched up, but then she let out a little laugh and relaxed. “I suppose that would have been the wise thing to do, instead of trying to thrill you with the wonders of Fereldan cuisine and my legendary cooking skills.”

“Oh, yes,” said Merrill, “I’ve heard that Fereldan food isn’t very good. But I’ll try this, if it’s something you like.” She reached for the dish.

“Merrill, you don’t have to—”

The mushrooms were exactly as awful as she’d known they would be. Worse, even. But Hawke’s embarrassment delighted her almost as much as knowing that she cared about her opinion.

#sunrisetune #dadwc #dadwc fill

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myc-ology-whore · 2 years

Text

Mycology, Pt. 1

Myc x Fem!Reader (SFW)

This... This is 5.7k words. And it's part one of two (???), quite possibly more. I'm in too deep for an ask, folks.

Okay! So, I've been working stupidly hard on this ask for the last three days or so. I accidently deleted the ask, but thankfully I'd screenshotted it beforehand lol. So, I put a lot of effort into this, partially because it's an introduction to one of my favourite OCs, Leon, and partially because I really liked this ask and just couldn't stop writing. I think normally people would pay writers on Tumblr for this, but you know what? I like to write, and I had a lot of fun writing this. So, as sincerely as I can possibly say this, thank you for the ask. It may not be exactly what was asked for personality-wise, but I hope it satisfies nonetheless.

FYI, while this part is SFW, the second part will 100% be NSFW. Also, none of the side characters really matter much except Leon, lol. He's the only one I've really fleshed out and put heart into. Let me know what you think of him.

You'd been working at Cognito for some time when the mycelian had first found his way into your life. The lab you were given to study your specimens was several floors below the atrium, and you often left the building late because you got too caught up in your work, so you'd just never managed to catch a glimpse of him. You were well aware that there was a mycelian working in Cognito somewhere, because you knew that they were the source of the hyper-psilocybin samples that were sent to your office to be processed, but it wasn't your job to extract that from the specimen, so you'd never had any need to go see them.

That didn't mean you didn't want to, however.

You were checking on the growth of some of your psilocybe cubensis in their primordium stage when you heard a sharp rapping on your door. "Come in," you called, taking a few snapshots of the baby mushrooms. There was a click behind you as someone entered your lab, shoes tapping the tiles audibly as they walked up beside you.

"Hey, gorgeous," said a familiar smooth voice, prompting you to sigh and roll your eyes. It was your coworker, Shaun, a rather attractive man only a few years older than you. He was a bit of a womanizer around this section of Cognito, from what you’d heard, and in the past week or so he'd made it his goal to get in your pants. His attempts amounted to nothing, of course, as you weren't interested in someone like him, but he was friends with one of your nicer coworkers, Amelia, so you hadn't outright turned him down yet.

"He's really a pretty decent guy, if you give him a chance," she'd tried to convince you, but you weren't buying it. "Just once, you should come to McUltra's for drinks with us. It'll be fun! Plus, I won't be the only girl in the group anymore."

"Do you need something, Shaun?" You walked around the table where your specimens sat to pin up the photos you'd just taken onto your progress board. He leaned casually onto the table as he eyed you; you noted that he was dangerously close to your baby cubensis, but tried to ignore it in favour of not looking rude.

"Yeah, wanted to ask if you'd finally changed your mind on those drinks," he replied, a friendly smile on his face. "Amelia, Kaiden and I are heading to McUltra's after work again today, and--"

"Again? I've told Amelia I'm not interested," you grumbled, leaning against the wall with your arms crossed.

Shaun frowned at your disposition. "Ah, come on, (Y/n)," he insisted, standing up straight to step a little closer to you. "I thought Amelia said you were s'posed to be fun. I'd love to watch you drink her under the table, or you could play some pool with us. Whatever you wanna do, I mean, you could even leave early if you wanted."

Womanizer or not, he did look genuine. There must be some reason Amelia sticks around him, I guess... And considering she doesn't like guys? Maybe he really isn't so bad.

You huffed in annoyance, rubbing your eyes as you mulled it over for a second more. Finally, you looked up at Shaun, suspicion in your gaze. "Just one night, then you guys will shut up about it?"

Shaun grinned. "Mhm, promise," he confirmed, miming zipping up his mouth.

"Fine. But you're buying my first drink."

. . . .

Thankfully, Cognito was nice enough to allow their employees to wear casual clothes, with the exception of lab staff having to wear lab coats while working, so you didn’t look totally out of place for a bar setting despite arriving straight after your shift. It didn’t matter much anyway, you realised, as many people here worked nights or multiple shifts, and would stop in at McUltra’s in full suits or biohazard-wear before, after, or even during work. You were rather surprised at just how many people were in the bar, considering it was only four in the afternoon, but you knew running the shadow government could drive anybody to drink after a few weeks.

Almost all of the booths in the bar were already full, and so were two of the three pool tables. Even the drinks bar itself was pretty crowded, though there were a few seats open. “Welp,” Shaun declared, looking around the room, “let’s find somewhere to sit.”

“There,” Amelia exclaimed, pointing happily at one of the booths in the very back corner of the bar. “That one there is open!”

Your three companions, Amelia, Shaun, and Shaun’s friend, Kaiden, quickly made a beeline for the table while you sauntered along behind them, scanning your surroundings. There were some arcade cabinets in the opposite corner from your table; you might be able to kill some time there. You spotted one of your favourite coworkers, Leon, sitting up at the bar by himself, drawing a smile from you. That’d be where you’d head first.

You walked up to Shaun’s side, Kaiden and Amelia already having sat down. “Alright, is everyone good with beer?” The two at the table agreed, and Shaun turned to face you. “You want something different?”

“I’ll pick up the drinks, so you don’t have to worry about it,” you said, smiling politely. “I’m assuming a beer for you too?”

Shaun raised an eyebrow, a grin spreading on his face. “Yeah, sure,” he answered, “but I’m still keeping my promise of buying the first round. Just tell the bartender to put it on my tab, he’s a really nice guy.”

You nodded and turned to the bar, your eyes locking onto Leon. You narrowly avoided bruising your hip on some of the tables several times, and nearly tripped over the lengthy tail of a particularly iguana-like reptoid, but you made it to the barstool beside your friend without injury. When you tapped on his shoulder to get his attention, you were greeted by the bright pink nose and tiny, beady eyes of a moleman. He frowned for a moment, sniffed the air around you, and broke into a wide, sharp-toothed grin.

“Miss (Y/n)!” he greeted in his polite southern accent. “I ain’t never seen you here before, ma’am! What brings you here so early in the afternoon?” The older moleman was, ironically, the lab levels’ mailman. He was very friendly to everyone, but most of the scientists were cold to him due to prior disagreements between the mole people and humans. He was very interested in your work, however, and you were happy to tell him about it when you weren’t busy, which was how you’d become acquainted.

“Some coworkers of mine insisted I come hang out with them,” you huffed, sitting down beside him. “I’m still trying to figure out how to get away from them completely, but I saw you sitting up here and figured I’d come and say hi.”

“Well, as always, Miss (Y/n), it is an absolute deeee-light to see you,” Leon said, his nose twitching happily. “You gonna stay and talk awhile?”

“I don’t see why not,” you reckoned, “though I promised I’d bring back drinks first.” You turned and waved over the bartender, a tall Easter Islander fellow with a silver nametag on his chest that read Tony. “Hi, excuse me, Tony? Could I get three beers and a piña colada, please? Shaun over there said we could put it on his tab.”

“Of course,” he replied, glancing at your table before getting to work on your drinks.

“Christ, it’s been a while since I last drank,” you chuckled, watching as Tony filled three iced glasses with foamy beer from the tap. When he finished your piña colada, you slid it into Leon’s hands so he’d know where it was, knowing well enough not to depend on a mole’s vision. “Here, keep tabs on this, will you? I’ll be right back.”

“Your drink is safe with me, Miss (Y/n),” he assured you. You beamed at him before picking up the beers to take back to your party.

Everybody was already getting into an excited conversation when you stepped back up to the table, but Shaun frowned as he saw that there were only three drinks. “You didn’t get anything for yourself? You don’t have to worry about paying for it, remember?”

“Oh, I did,” you assure him, setting a glass down in front of each of your companions, “but I’ve got someone watching it over at the bar. I found one of my friends here, so I’m gonna go sit with him for a bit.”

Shaun and Amelia both looked aghast at your announcement, but Kaiden looked like he could care less. Amelia spoke up first, protesting, “You’re ditching us?”

“I mean, you guys wanted me to come out here,” you shrugged. “I’m just saying hello to a buddy, and after that I guess we’ll see what happens.”

“Well,” Shaun sighed, “if that’s what you really want. Enjoy your drink.”

You almost felt a little bad when you saw how upset he and Amelia seemed to be, but you couldn’t be bothered to care. Maybe you were a dick, but if you were going to allow yourself to be nagged into going out, you were going to do it on your own terms. “Yeah, thanks. See ya.”

When you came back up to sit beside Leon, he pulled your drink to his chest for a second to sniff at you, then passed it back. “Safe as a baby in a bunker,” he said cheerily, listening as you took a sip of the sweet drink. “That rum sure do smell strong, ma’am. I ain’t never tried anything like that, truth be told.”

“Mm, I can get you one if you want,” you say, slurping up the fruity mixed drink like a mosquito. “These things are sooo good.”

“Oh, I shouldn’t, ma’am,” the moleman dismissed, waving the thought away. “We mole people don’t have much of a tolerance like you humanfolk. If I have anything more than two drinks, I won’t be able to smell my way home.”

“Huh, I had no clue.”

“Our noses are a magnificent tool, ma’am, but alcohol messes with our sense of smell the same way it messes with your sight and balance,” he explained patiently, taking a small drink from his glass of whiskey as you listened intently. “This here is my first glass, however, so I’ve still got a ’ways ‘til I’m ready to pick up and leave.”

“I’ve always wondered just how strong your noses have to be,” you remarked, thinking aloud as you stared into your drink. “I mean, is it like echolocation? Like, you can pick out everybody’s individual scent and quote-unquote “see” where they all are?”

Leon chuckled in amusement at your inquiry, enjoying your interest in his species. “Somethin’ like that,” he confirmed, swishing his whiskey around. “Everybody has a certain smell, that much is true, but some folks got a scent so unique that we can pick ‘em out in a crowd. It don’t even have to be that special, really, as long as we been around you long enough to memorise it. Take you, for example.”

“Me?” You furrow your brows, unsure of what to think. Laughing awkwardly, you ask, “Are you trying to say I stink, Leon?”

The moleman lets out a sharp bark of a laugh, clicking his claws on the bar. “Not at all, ma’am,” he says kindly, shaking his head. “No, it’s your job that gives you your scent, Miss (Y/n). You’re ‘round all those fungi all day, and that rubs off on you. At the risk of offendin’ you, you remind me of home, Miss. Moist dirt, mushrooms, lichen, everything you takin’ care of in there; though the smell isn’t strong enough for humans to notice, it’s easy for us mole people to see.”

Your cheeks are slightly red as he explains this to you. “I’m flattered, Leon,” you laugh. “I had no idea.”

“Of course not,” he replied, polishing off his glass of whiskey. “You’d never have a clue if one of my people didn’t tell you themselves. Speakin’ of…” He lifted his head up in the air, nose twitching vigorously as he locked onto a smell. “I think one of ‘em’s comin’ close now.”

You frowned in confusion and turned to the wide entrance of McUltra’s. “You can pick out a mole person’s scent from pretty far off,” you mused, seeing no one else of his kind in the bar.

He shook his head with a small chuckle as he relaxed his posture once more. “Not one of my species, Miss (Y/n), but one of my folk,” Leon corrected. “One of the many peoples from below.”

You were about to ask what he meant when something brightly coloured slid into the corner of your eye, and you whirled around to see a neon pink and blue mycelian scuttling into the bar, his flashy colours indicating that he was a male. You found yourself entranced almost immediately, your eyes wide and scrutinising the way the mycelian moved as he approached the bar. Though you had no reliable way of knowing where his gaze was, you somehow felt like he was watching you as well, and when he ended up stopping right in front of you and Leon, you felt a strange sort of energy coming off of him.

“Well, look who it is,” the mycelian crowed, his voice loud and pleased. “Long time, no see, Leon.”

“Good to see you, Myc,” Leon returned, holding out a clawed paw to the giant mushroom. The mycelian took it instantly, pulling Leon in for a rather bizarre hug.

“I see you got a little lady friend,” said the mycelian, leaning in to get a good look at you. You didn’t shy away in the least, a childish grin on your face as you looked into his swirling orb. “You interested, hot stuff?”

“Myc, please,” Leon groaned, seeming embarrassed of his friend. “Miss (Y/n), I apologise on behalf of my good friend here. You’ll have to forgive him his crude nature, he doesn’t understand manners so well.”

“(Y/n), huh? You sure seem enamoured with me, dollface,” he leered smugly, and although you were about to defend yourself, you thought of a better idea. Maybe if you could get on his good side, he’d tell you a little bit about his species like Leon had.

“Well, you’re a very beautiful specimen,” you answered truthfully. The mycelian, Myc, seemed a bit taken aback by your choice of words.

“Specimen?”

“Miss (Y/n) here is a mycologist,” Leon said, sounding almost proud as he introduced you. “She grows all kinds of fungi down in the bio labs. Granted, she doesn’t grow anything quite like you.”

Myc laughed slyly, moving closer to lean onto the bar between you and Leon. “A mycologist, hmm? Sounds like I could teach you a thing or two, kiddo.”

Leon shoved him back, his mouth agape in disbelief. “Myc! That is not how you make a good first impression on a lady,” he reprimanded, holding a clawed hand out in front of you. Addressing you, he says, “Don’t pay this old man any mind, Miss (Y/n). He’s not so bad once you get to know him, I promise.”

“You think too highly of me, Leon,” Myc chuckled, his gaze still roving over you. “Besides, I think the kid here can speak for herself, can’t she?”

“I can, though I appreciate your concern,” you said to Leon, gently pushing his paw down. To you, this was an unmissable opportunity to get up close and personal with a mycelian, and you weren’t going to turn that down. “If you wanted to come down to my lab sometime, I’d love to take a closer look at you. I’ve always been interested in examining one of your species,” you offer, smiling kindly.

Myc seems to think that’s a grand idea. “Maybe I’ll take you up on that, kid,” he remarked, coming to lean in close to you again. This time, he stood on your other side, however, that way Leon couldn’t shove him back again. “Just promise you won’t dissect me, yeah? I like my flagella just the way they are, thanks.”

“Myc, don’t you try and pull any funny business on Miss (Y/n), y’hear? She’s a very nice lady, and I will not have you ruining her opinion of us for your own amusement,” Leon warns, pointing at the mushroom with one of his thick claws. Myc looked so soft and gel-like, you thought, that if these two were enemies, Leon would slice right through him.

“Yeah, yeah, I got it, Fuzzy,” Myc snickered, moving around you to rub the moleman’s head condescendingly. Leon took the teasing willingly, and you wondered just how long these two had known each other. Turning back to you, the mycelian asked, “So, can I buy you your next drink, doc? I got plenty of time to sit and chat. You know, get to know each other a little better before you… examine me.”

. . . .

As it turned out, Myc and Leon were pretty close. You found out that Leon hadn’t actually grown up in Hollow Earth but on a mushroom farm in Mississippi run by a kind human family; they’d found him rustling around in the brush and took him in, intending to keep him as a pet until he started learning to stand upright and talk. They raised him as they did their daughter, who was around his age, and taught him how to run the farm and dress properly and whatnot. When one of his adoptive sister’s schoolmates came over and spotted him, gossip led to Leon being found by Cognito.

“They asked me if I wanted to stay with my family or go back down to where I come from,” Leon recalled over his third glass of whiskey (Myc had insisted upon it, assuring the moleman that he’d get home safe). “I says - hic - I told ‘em, I ain’t goin’ nowhere if I can’t come back ‘nd visit my Ma and Pa and Mae. So, Cognito, they tells me that - hic - that if I come ‘nd work for ‘em, then they’d give me free passage from home to… to the Hollows.”

“Take a breath, champ,” Myc chuckles, leaning onto one of his flagella and watching in amusement as Leon swayed on his barstool. Continuing the moleman’s story, he says, “Kid had to come to Cognito and get settled before he could get onto the subway to Hollow Earth, and they figured he’d be more comfortable if he had someone from the Hollows to show him around. They didn’t really seem to take into account that he’d never been down there, meaning he had no clue what the fuck he was looking at when I came knocking.”

“I damn near screamed my head off!” Leon laughs animatedly at the memory, leaning back on his stool, and you smile fondly as Myc reaches around you to steady his old friend. “I was cryin’, ‘Alien, alien!’ Whoo, Myc sure got a kick outta that! He was shakin’ in the doorway like a leaf from laughin’ so hard, while I stood backed into the corner o’ my room, thinking he come to take my brain like in one o’ them zombie films. Ah, it’s funny lookin’ back, but I was terrified of ‘im that day.”

“Well, to someone who’s never even heard of them before, mycelians can be easily mistaken for extraterrestrials,” you reason. “How many years ago was that again?”

“Oh, that must’a been… why, thirty-odd years ago now,” Leon remarked. “Correct me if I’m wrong, Myc.”

“Yeah, somewhere around there,” the mushroom confirmed. “You’re what now, fifty?”

“Yessuh,” Leon said with a grin. “You’re sharp as ever.”

“I went to your birthday last year,” Myc laughed, swirling a tendril around in his own whiskey. You watched absentmindedly as the liquid slowly disappeared, somehow being absorbed into the flagella. “If I couldn’t remember something as recent as that, they might have to put me in a home or some shit.”

“Wait,” you thought aloud, holding up a hand to halt him. “How old did you say you were again?”

“What, you can’t tell? I’m flattered,” the mushroom said sarcastically. “Four thousand and forty-one. I don’t look like it though, huh?”

He snickers as your mouth falls open, your eyebrows scrunched up in disbelief. “You’re kidding.”

“Not at all.” Well, now you were doubly - no, triply as interested in examining the mycelian as you were when he first walked into McUltra’s. His body had been moving, healing, and functioning on its own for several thousand years, yet he was as lively and visually healthy as a man in his twenties or thirties. “Soak in it for a minute, why don’tcha? Guess I can’t blame you for not knowing too much about us; you’re a mycologist, not a cryptobiologist.”

“That doesn’t mean I don’t want to learn more,” you alluded, letting your hand slide across the bar to poke gently at the flagella curled around his glass.

“You’re pretty forward, for such a geek,” Myc chuffed, and you felt something ghost over your jeans before wrapping itself around your thigh. “Keep talkin’ like that, I might just have to visit your lab sooner rather than later.”

“You’ve always been such - hic - such a smooth-talker, Myc,” Leon said from your other side, and you turned to see him lying his head onto the bar, his small eyes beginning to droop. “Just don’t… don’t mess this one up. Hic.”

“I think it’s time to get you home, buddy,” Myc sighed, hopping off his barstool. He laid a flagella onto Leon’s shoulders to support him, making sure he wouldn’t fall if he tried to get down. “Wouldn’t want you to end up cock-blocking me, Fuzz.”

“Ah, I’m fine,” the moleman replied, swiping at Myc with his paw. You jumped a little and covered your mouth in worry at just how close he got to accidentally slicing the mushroom’s limb off, but Myc seemed unphased.

“C’mon, champ, you’ve had enough,” he held, grabbing onto the moleman’s bicep and yanking him down and onto his feet. “You’re gonna make a fool of yourself here pretty soon.”

Leon grumbled something unintelligible, but relented arguing. He looked like he’d just been told to go to bed by his father, reinforcing once more just how much older Myc really was. You watched as he wrapped a flagella loosely around Leon’s ribs to steady him, Leon grabbing onto Myc’s stem in return, reminding you of a passenger hanging onto the poles in the metro. When Leon was fully balanced, Myc turned back to you, looking at you almost expectantly.

“Well?” You raised your eyebrows at his implicative tone. “Are you gonna help me walk him home?”

“Oh, uhm…” You thought for a moment, glancing briefly at your original group playing pool in the corner of the bar. Ah, who cares, you decided. “How far is it?”

“‘Bout a ten minute walk and an elevator ride away,” Myc answered.

“Then sure.” You went around to Leon’s other side, letting him rest his other arm over your shoulders. Looking to Myc, you nodded. “Lead the way, cap.”

The three of you start walking toward the exit of the bar, making it just outside and onto the tile floor of the mini-mall before you’re stopped. Shaun’s shoes squeak as he slides out in front of you, holding his hands up to signal you to wait.

“(Y/n), hey,” he says, brows knitted. “Where are you going? You’re not going to come back and hang out with us a bit before you leave?”

You looked at your coworker incredulously, glancing between the moleman leaning onto your side and back at Shaun. “Um, I’m a little busy here.”

“Yeah, screw off, bud,” Myc grunts in annoyance, shifting impatiently as Leon swayed in between the two of you.

“I’m sorry, who are you?” Shaun gives the mycelian a once-over, taking in the strangeness of him. “I don’t think I know your name.”

“Good, ‘cuz I don’t think that’s any of your business.”

“Now, Myc,” Leon slurred, leaning up to talk to his friend, “don’t you cause no trouble here, old man. I just - hic - need you to get me to the elevators, ‘nd I can take it from there.”

“Yeah, I got it, kid,” Myc said dismissively. He made a shooing motion at Shaun with one of his flagella, tilting his head toward the bar. “Run along now, princess. We got places to be.”

Shaun’s face lit up with anger and embarrassment at Myc’s treatment. He took a step forward, pointing aggressively at the mushroom. “Now, look here, asshole--”

“Shaun, just drop it,” you commanded, glaring at him. “I’ll be back later, alright?”

“Yeah, drop it,” Myc sneered. “(Y/n), can we please get moving now? My flagella are gonna start acting on their own here pretty quickly.”

“Myc, just hush,” you snapped. Looking back to Shaun, you said, “Sorry, but we have to get going now. Just go on and hang out without me, okay?”

Shaun hesitated, clearly not wanting to budge, but eventually seemed to cave in. “Just be safe, okay? You know these guys well, right?”

“Well enough,” you confirmed with a nod. “Thanks for worrying, but I know how to handle myself.”

“Alright,” he sighed. “I’ll… see you at work tomorrow maybe?”

“Yeah, maybe.” With that, Shaun finally relented, letting you pass. He gave Myc a side-eye as he returned to the bar, something that merely seemed to amuse the mushroom. As you began walking toward the elevators, you cleared your throat, catching Myc’s attention. “Sorry about that guy, by the way,” you said, glancing over at him. “He’s just… really weird.”

“And by really weird you mean a creep,” Myc replied shortly, looking back at you over Leon’s furry head. “That guy desperately wants to fuck you, you know that, right?”

A sudden laugh almost made you choke, and you coughed for a few seconds as you tried not to stumble with someone else’s weight on your shoulders. “H-How would you even know that?”

“Well, first of all, he was painfully obvious,” he snickered. “I thought it was pretty clear that part of the reason he didn’t want you to leave was because he was jealous. Can’t say I didn’t understand his worry though, seeing you walk off with two guys you didn’t walk in with. His motives weren’t entirely selfish, at least.”

“And how are you so certain of his motives?”

He scoffed at that. “Don’t you know anything about mycelians? I thought you’d be at least a little informed.”

“I only know what your excretions do,” you admitted in an embarrassed mutter. “They get sent to me for processing, and that’s about all the information I get. I don’t even know how they get the stuff, though considering how you’re walking around freely, I can thankfully mark torture off the list of possibilities.”

Myc chuckled slyly, tilting his head toward you. “You’re in for a big surprise then, sweetheart.” You gave him a curious look, but he said no more on the topic. “And for your information, we’re psychic. Y’know, like we can read minds and shit like that? I’ve been in your head since I first walked into the bar.”

“That’s amazing,” you marvelled, eyes wide. “Psychic abilities… I’ll have to write that down. And where did you say the hyper-psilocybin comes from?”

“You’ll probably find out soon enough,” he said vaguely. You reached the elevators at the edge of the mini-mall, and were pleasantly surprised to find that one was already waiting for passengers as you pushed the button to summon one. “Ladies first,” Myc stated, gesturing for you to step in. You did, backing in carefully so you wouldn’t put all of Leon’s weight onto Myc; the moleman was practically sleepwalking at this point. “Negative eleven, that’s where his apartment’s at.”

As soon as everyone was inside, the elevator began its swift descent to the residential level; Cognito had many employees that were better left unseen by the public, so they had two whole apartment complexes built into their facilities. One was aboveground in a nice, boring little neighbourhood in uptown D.C., while the other, the one you were headed to now, was an underground complex made for the workers who’d rather not see the light of day, if they didn’t have to.

You’d visited the upper complex before, but you’d never even seen these apartments before. Though the hallway you came into looked like any modern hotel, there were slight differences. The lights were much dimmer here than in the rest of Cognito, and the ground was made of some sort of packed dirt rather than carpet. It felt cool in the same way as a cavern, wet but not uncomfortably cold; you wondered what kinds of people lived down here, other than mole people.

Myc stopped walking in front of one of the many identical doors in the hall, distinguishable only by the numbers beside them; this one read 201. Leon mumbled sleepily as Myc reached into the pocket of his mailman uniform, pulling a small ring of keys from it. “You look like you’ve done this before,” you chuffed as he began fumbling to unlock the door.

“I’m not the best friend a guy could have,” he admitted, opening the door with a click and kicking it open. “This isn’t the first time I’ve ended up getting the poor kid shitfaced.”

“Well, you’re a good enough friend to make sure he gets home safe,” you countered. Myc gave nothing in response but a short laugh, though you felt that he appreciated the comment. You followed his lead as he dragged his friend into the apartment, and were surprised to see just how… burrow-like it was. It was clear that it was originally just a basic empty room with a bathroom and hallway leading off of it, but someone had gone to great lengths to cover every inch of the walls in dirt, piles of it remaining in the corners of the room. Lanterns and candles were the only source of light you saw, the original lights having been covered by the muck. Cozy-looking wicker furniture decorated the small living area, a thick red rug in the middle of a circle of armchairs, and a small wooden coffee table was atop the rug.

“Here, just stay put for a minute,” Myc said, hoisting Leon up enough so that his arm slipped off your shoulders. Heading for the hallway that broke off of the main room, he explained, “I’m just gonna drop him off in his bed real quick. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if you had a look around.”

You nodded as he left and did just that, for several things had caught your attention. A variety of shiny objects decorated the dirty wall, pinned into the muck with wooden nails. Necklaces, rings, pocket watches, and coins galore were pressed inside of the dirt, and you felt like you were walking through some strange museum exhibit. You gathered that these must’ve been things Leon had found while digging around; it made you smile to see that each object was polished with love, making the artefacts look brand new despite being stuck in dried mud.

As you looked around, you found picture frames sitting throughout the room as well. You saw one placed on a small table in the corner of the room beside a bowl of peppermints, and you picked it up to examine it. It was Leon, though clearly a bit younger than the one you knew; he stood beside a very pretty young girl with a smile as bright as the sun, his clawed hand on her waist. On the back of the picture frame was the name Jeannie, a small heart beside her name.

“Whatcha got there?” You jumped as a voice came from right over your shoulder. Myc chuckled as you turned around to face him, setting the portrait back where you’d found it. He stretched upwards and over you to look behind you, looking at the picture himself. “Ah, doing a little snooping, are we?”

“You said it was okay to look around,” you defended.

“That I did,” he replied, leaning back to give you your personal space. He turned and scuttled away toward the open door of the apartment, looking back at you expectantly. “C’mon, let’s move,” he stated, setting Leon’s keys on a rack hanging from the wall and locking the doorknob lock. He waited for you to pass him before shutting the door and matching your pace as you walked back to the elevators. “Not the kind of place you expected him to live in, huh?”

“I guess it’s the kind I should’ve expected,” you remarked, stretching your neck out as you walked; your shoulders were sore from carrying Leon’s weight. “He is a mole, after all.”

“Well, don’t say it like that, you’ll get the guy fired in a place like this,” Myc jokes, eliciting a soft laugh from you. “By the way, you’re looking a little tense there, doll. If you want, I could help you relax a little.”

“With what, your psychic abilities? You’re not going to hypnotise me, are you?” Myc snorted, knowing you were fully aware of his implications. “If you want to go down to my lab now, I won’t turn down the offer.”

Myc tapped his orb as though in thought, a strangely human gesture you didn’t expect from him. “Well, if you’re so eager, why don’t we do it right now? The bio labs just seem like such a long walk away,” he suggests, his tone making it clear that he was ready to go when you were.

You shook your head, stifling a grin. “I think you’re misunderstanding what the term examine means, buddy.”

“And I think you’re underestimating my abilities to woo and persuade you into some additional fun, doc.”

“Yeah, we’ll see about that.”

“We certainly will,” he agrees, wrapping a flagella around your shoulders with a sly laugh.

#inside job #inside job x reader #cognito inc #myc #myc x reader #magic myc #magic myc x reader #inside job oc #mycology

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beardoesdoodles · 2 years

Note

Hi bear idk if you accept prompts at the moment 🥺🥺 but I thought of bucky wearing a mushroom hat 🍄 and I need it so bad and I think your art style would be so good for it 🥺🥺❤️ if you want 💕

Hi Dready!! I fell in love with this idea and had so much fun drawing it, so thank you for this prompt! 🥺💕

Here you go! I hope you like it and that you are having a lovely weekend 🥰🥰

#my art #bucky barnes #also I am LOVING your new avatar!!#lovely moots <3

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wish-i-wasnt-a-coward · 3 years

Text

Family Cuddle Pile

a/n: I actually wrote this a while ago but it was perfect for the request. Theirs like, no content for this ship an I love it so much! Thank you for reading :) @arodynamic-enby

Pairings: romantic Anxceitmus and kid!Patton also super background Logince

Warnings: tattoos, less than ideal parent mentions, food mention, and light cursing

Word count: 1,844

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Remus flopped out of bed, throwing his body carelessly across the room. He hastily threw on his clothes. Short shorts, ripped fishnets, a vest that was more patches than original material, really big clunky shoes, and a ripped up band-t. He also hooked his favorite bone earrings in his tattered earlobes.

He stomped into his apartment’s kitchen. He grabbed a stale piece of bread he soaked it in coffee. Yawned and grabbed his bag, racing out the door.

His brother was waiting for him at the tattoo shop, sketching a new idea. Unlike him, Roman only had a few tattoos, including not one, not two, not three… but three Disney quotes, a frog on a mushroom, a rose on his arm, and a constellation. Most of his tattoos were covered by tasteful burgundy overalls and a white button-down shirt.

Remus’ tattoos were also mostly covered by his clothes. But he had a tattoo sleeve depicting the garden of Eden, a matching frog on a mushroom, a quote from one of Roman’s books, medically accurate bone structures on his hand, a realistic spider on his neck, and a snake wrapping around his non-sleeved arm. And those were just the visible ones.

Suffice to say, the twins were very different.

Remus threw his bag onto the floor in the backroom, “Ro, when’s the first appointment!!” he yelled. “Your’s? At 11. FYI, Jan n’ Pat are coming over at 12, for motivation” Remus smiled, fuckin’ superb.

He busied himself in collecting the ink and preparing the tattoo gun. The client wanted a fucking orange on their wrist, it should only take an hour or two but Remus was not excited to do a frickin’ orange circle.

The prissy orange bitch came in and Remus got to work. They didn’t move much and only cried a little bit when the needle started jabbing at their skin. Remus liked this part of the process, stabbing people consensually was his favorite thing ever… also the art part but stabbing people!

Almost exactly an hour later the door jingled open. “Dada!!” a tiny voice called back into the store. “I’ll be there in a minute patty-cake” Remus called from his spot hunched over the client's arm.

He added the final touches to the fruit and helped the orange bitch off the chair. Roman swept the client away, Remus practically ran to greet his partner and son.

Janus wore a leather corset over a black collared shirt and baggy pants, their long platinum hair framed their face under their signature hat. They were holding hands with a toddler wearing mostly pink and blue, his blond hair (that matched Janus’) was a mop of curls barely held together by a few butterfly clips.

“Dada, Dada!!! I got you a flower” the little boy cried, letting go of Janus’ hand and stumbling towards the tall man who scooped him up. Patton giggled and held out a sweaty flower clenched in his chubby fist.

Remus accepted the flower with a gasp, ”this is really for me?” he said joyfully. Adjusting the small boy in his arms Remus turned towards Janus who was looking at the pair with a disgustingly sappy expression.

“What are you lookin’ at hot stuff?” Remus teased. “Shut it you,” Janus said, pressing a kiss to Remus’ check. Patton made a noise, “icky” he said pushing Janus away. They laughed, “yes darling, we’re very icky”.

“When’s verge-“

“he’ll be home at 4”

“Dope”

“Stop by the Sleepy Café before you bring Pat to the apartment?”

“Can do scootal-lo!”

Remus turned back to the little boy in his arms, “looks like you're stuck with me squirt”. Patton beamed and snuggled into Remus’ chest. Janus smiled again, “I’ll see you, boys, at dinner,” they said, ruffling Pat's hair and peaking Remus on the lips quickly so as to not upset the toddler. “Bye-bye Janny!!” Patton called after Janus as they left for work.

“Righty-o,” Remus said, carrying Patton into the back room. “I know Ro’s got a couple coloring books, wanna do those for a bit?” Patton nodded and reached towards the ground to be put down. Remus plopped Patton on the couch and pulled out the book and pens as well as a sketchbook off his own. They sat together coloring and drawing until Roman came back to hug Patton.

“Ah, my favorite nephew!” Roman said, scooping up the little boy. Patton laughed and pulled Roman’s hair. “Roro, can I color your arm pictures??” he asked, pointing to Roman’s rose tattoo. Roman plopped the toddler back down on the couch and handed him a pen.

Patton went to work on the rose, scribbling reds and pinks and greens across his arm. Roman gave him complements each time Patton paused, and each time Patton shushed him and went back to work. Remus finished up his sketch, adding it to the pile of tattoo ideas they were eventually going to put up-front, and sat next to the toddler.

“That’s really good pat-”

“Shhhhhhhh”

Remus nodded and mimed zipping his lips. He liked spending time with the kid. They weren’t biologically related but who gives a fuck about blood, unless it’s outside of your body, then it’s fun.

---------------------------------------------------------------

“I don’ wanna” Patton wined his dad sighed “I know bubbles but we gotta go home to Papa and Janny, isn’t that fun” Patton considered this, “but Roro’s pretty arm picture” he argued. Remus scratched the back of his neck, “Pffffff- Ummm, how about this, we go home now and I’ll take you back to the shop tomorrow after pre-school”

Patton brightened considerably, “ok” he chirped. “up please” the toddler’s chubby hands reached towards Remus who obediently scooped him up with a coo. After all who was he to say no to uppy hands.

“See ya tomorrow, have fun on your date with the nerd” Remus sang as he snatched his bag juggling the still fussy Patton in his other arm. “Fu- Frick off Re. Say hi to your partners for me,” Romans said affectionately and waved as his twin left the building.

Remus happily trotted out into the road. The tattoo shop was located on a quaint little street in the more commercial segment of their town only a short walk from Janus’ job.

A light drizzle floated around them and the air was warm and comforting. Patton squealed as a large drop of water hit him in the head, prompting a laugh from Remus.

A jingle sounded through the peaceful cafe, the brown room was illuminated by those cool old fashion lights and a lovely array of pastries made the air smell of chocolate and blueberry scones. But the scones, as delicious as they were, weren’t the snack Remus was here for

“Hey babe- Remus why are you soaking wet”

“Puddle” Patton screeched.

“Kid’s right, Puddle.”

Janus pinched their eyebrows, “ya know what, I’m not even surprised anymore. Just make sure Patton doesn’t catch a cold” they scolded.

Remus nodded and saluted in mock seriousness, “yes captain” he said and pressed a kiss to Janus’ face over the cash register, “I’ll see ya in a bit” Remus grinned and led Patton back out of the cafe.

Janus sighed lovingly as they watched their boyfriend and son turn to cross the street, Patton’s hand clasped around Remus’ happily. “Stop looking so happy, you're scaring the customers” Remy teased from across the counter. “Ha, Ha,” Janus glared and went back to work”

Janus’ apartment was a cute two-bedroom space on the fourth floor of the building. The furniture was an interesting combo of vintage and things from the side of the road. The vintage parts came from their parent’s house, their father had died two years after Janus’ had run away and hadn’t thought to write them out of the will.

The three of them had made a date out of customizing the few pieces that Janus wanted to keep. The customization mainly included darkening everything and adding more gothic touches. Virgil had done the fabrics, Remus the painting, and Janus moral support/ director.

The three partners had also painted the kitchen/dining room/living room black with one yellow wall. Janus and Virgil’s room was dark purple instead of black with highlights in the same yellow. Patton’s room was the only one that didn’t look marginally like a cave.

The walls were a cream-yellow that lit up in the morning sunlight. After Janus announced that they were going to have a baby Remus had spent three hours painting the grey ceiling with white fluffy clouds. It was one of his favorite projects.

Patton of course had no regard for the work put into the entirety of his home and was the usual menace of a toddler. And today a toddler with cheerios, truly a sight even god would tremble before.

Remus plopped down next to Patton who was pushing cheerios around his highchair tray with an intense focus. He smiled at the little boy and flicked on the tv, “got any requests pip-squeak?” Remus asked. Patton looked thoughtful, “dead lady!!” he cried excitedly hitting the tray with his fists, cheerios flew everywhere. Remus nodded, understanding, “Corpse bride coming up!” he picked a few cheerios from the couch “you really are Verge’s kid”

When Janus got home Patton was curled up on Remus’s chest. Both slept soundly despite the dead folk on the screen in front of them singing about the wedding.

Janus smiled, their family was fucking adorable. They slipped off their shoes and snuggled up into Remus who hummed happily and pulled Janus into the hug still asleep.

----------------------------------------

Three hours later Virgil trudged up the four flights of stairs huffing indignantly with each step. Of course, he could take the elevator… but it might break down and he would be stuck for hours. Or someone could get into the elevator with him and he would have to interact with a stranger. So stairs it was.

He rummaged around his baggy hoodie, running his fingers through his dark purple hair in annoyance when he couldn’t find the key. Once he found it Virgil carefully (as he did everything) opened the apartment door. His combat books clunked satisfyingly against the hardwood floors as he entered his house. Virgil felt the tension leave his muscles, he was home. He glanced across the room, looking for his family.

Virgil’s face lit up like a god damned Christmas tree.

Across the room, both his partners and his son were curled up sleeping happily. Drool covered Remus’ face and Janus was snoring, they were the most precious thing Virgil had seen all freakin day.

The three of them woke as Virgil wrapped his arms around them, Patton squealed in excitement. “Hello, darling” Janus mumbled sleepily into Virgil’s arm. Remus just groaned and nestled into the hug. The toddler wriggled between his dads squealing profusely. “Shhh, s’ sleepy time” Remus mumbled, rolling deeper into the cuddle pile and shutting Patton up.

Virgil smiled and pressed a kiss to his partner’s cheek. “Mmm, love you” they purred. “Love you too Jan,” Virgil said, nestling his face in their neck. Virgil knew he would have to start dinner soon but that could wait, for now, cuddles.

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inkandmoonbeams · 2 years

Note

Hello!! Do I see prompt requests! How about this: BOTW Zelda saving Link, whether it’s in combat, politically or he’s just about to step off a cliff.

Hello Braidy! 💜 🥰 Thank you so much for this prompt! I lovelovelove the Zelink dynamic in BOTW so this was really fun to write (and I'm sorry it took me forever to finish it!)

Big thanks to @silentprincess17, @zeldaelmo, @zeldadiarist for reviewing this piece and offering suggestions! @braidy-maidy, thank you specifically for the mushroom idea (dsaifhds I was not specific when I asked for help so you ended up helping with your own prompt, it's fine 😅). You were all a hugehuge help and I love you all! Full fic is under the cut. 💜

Link was never sure what to expect from Zelda’s research.

There was always something new to discover; something to test or tinker with. The princess often helped Purah program Guardians, and her study was littered with spare gears and springs. Sometimes, Zelda ventured to a new shrine or practiced using the Sheikah Slate’s runes (her favorite was Stasis–something about how it could store kinetic energy. Link just thought stopping time looked like fun). A few weeks ago, she had started studying a flower called the Silent Princess. Her evenings were usually spent huddled at her desk, reading about its medicinal properties and experimenting with various breeding methods. She said she was determined to grow the Silent Princess in captivity.

Today, she wanted to head to the Great Plateau.

“You will not need to accompany me,” Zelda informed him. “It’s not far, and you’ll just be in the way of my research.”

She always said this.

And, as always, Link still came along, ignoring the glares she threw his way.

The glares were nothing new; after all, she wasn’t exactly happy with the fact that he was her appointed knight. Link had taken away her last scraps of independence, and reminded her of all the powers she could not unlock. She had every right to hate him. And knowing she probably did—well, it didn’t hurt as much as it used to.

But he missed catching a glimpse of her smile every now and then.

They walked along the plateau in near silence. Occasionally, Zelda held up her Slate to take photos or consult the map, muttering to herself as she tapped the screen. Link’s mouth twitched, and he had to force down a smile. She was just so cute—so focused and determined and unashamedly intelligent.

Not that he was allowed to think about Zelda in that way. She was a princess, and he was her knight, but this was no fairy tale. This was his job. End of story.

Plus, there was the whole thing where she hated him.

Eventually, Zelda found an area she deemed worthy for conducting research. There was a shrine a few yards away, and she snapped a few pictures before returning her full attention to the Slate. Then, she started pacing, venturing farther and farther until she stopped and did it all over again. Link leaned against the trunk of a tree as he watched her work.

“Princess?” he finally asked.

“Yes?”

“What exactly are you looking for?”

“I want to test out the Slate’s Sheikah Sensor,” Zelda explained. She fiddled with the Slate again and frowned. “It should be able to help us find more shrines. Purah says the Slate might be able to find other objects, too. For example, if I take a photo of a Hylian Herb, the Slate could catalog it, and then I could use the Sensor to find more. It has incredible potential.”

“Oh. Can I help?”

“No.”

Well. He tried.

Link sighed and scanned their surrounding area. He had grown to love the Great Plateau, with its views of Hyrule castle and the Temple of Time. It was familiar—a comforting sort of quiet during their otherwise hectic adventures. Zelda continued her pacing, and Link counted three glowing shrines in the distance. Birds flew overhead. A cluster of bright white mushrooms grew near his feet.

He didn’t recognize the species—they were shaped differently than truffles, and were too white to be Silent Shrooms—but maybe he could try one and come up with a few recipes for later. They looked tasty enough, and he had a feeling they’d be there for a while. He cocked his head and knelt to pick one.

And then—

“Link! Don’t eat that!”

He had barely gotten back to his feet when Zelda rushed towards him and smacked the mushroom out of his hand.

She smacked him hard, too.

“Hey! What—”

Link’s eyes followed the mushroom as it sailed down to the ground. “I wanted to eat that.”

Zelda huffed. “No, you didn’t. That’s a Skullshroom. It’s poisonous.”

Her voice was almost a snarl. She looked more agitated than relieved, as though he should have known that this area of Hyrule was full of dubious foods.

In Link’s defense, they couldn’t all be scholars.

For a moment, he could only stare at her in shock. His eyes darted from Zelda to the discarded mushroom and back again.

Poisonous. He really almost ate something poisonous. Who knows what would have happened if it weren’t for Zelda?

“Thank you,” Link finally said, still trying to process the fact that Zelda, of all people, had stopped him.

Zelda rolled her eyes. “You have nothing to thank me for. I only did what anyone else would do. Besides, It’s only deadly if your illness goes untreated, and the royal medics are more than capable of handling it.”

“I think that still warrants a thank you.”

“Fine,” Zelda said haughtily. She brushed dirt off her pants and sighed. “You’re welcome.”

And with that, Zelda returned to her Slate as though nothing had happened.

Goddess, she was stubborn. Link shook his head in disbelief and returned to his post, taking care to hide his grin.

Because she could have let him eat the mushroom. She could have let him get sick and enjoyed the rest of the day alone. Instead, she had smacked the danger right out of his hand.

Maybe she did care about him.

Just a bit.

#katie writes #loz #legend of zelda #botw #breath of the wild #fanfic #zelink

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mygalfriday · 3 years

Text

you heard it from those other boys but this time it’s real (River/12)

Prompt #4: Double Date

Technically, this might be her fault but as a self-proclaimed psychopath River hardly possesses a conscience that needs to own her every mistake. And she certainly has no intention of claiming responsibility for this one. She fully intends to blame Hydroflax.

Finally settled in their brand new flat, she and the Doctor had decided to have a bit of fun playing hosts for the evening. Acting as a normal married couple who throw dinner parties and play board games had seemed like a laugh. The problem, of course, was that they didn’t know anyone on Darillium to invite. It had only been a few weeks and they’d spent most of that time christening every available surface of the flat. Neither of them had been inclined to get dressed and meet their neighbors.

The only two people they know happen to share a single body. The Doctor had been adamantly opposed to having one of her former husbands as a dinner guest and River, relishing his jealous scowl, had relented quite quickly. So they had decided to invite Nardole round for dinner and proceeded to bicker over the menu and the wine until they actually felt like an ordinary couple with ordinary problems. Of course, they’d made up immediately – impossible to stay angry when you’re both grinning at each other like idiots.

Eventually, they’d decided River would make the appetizers, the Doctor would make the main course, and they’d make dessert together. The Doctor hadn’t even blushed when she’d made a filthy joke about it. He’d only looked at her with exasperated affection and kissed her quiet. A girl could get used to that sort of domesticity.

While technically the robot body Nardole now inhabits doesn’t need to eat, its system does have the ability to convert food into energy to help maintain the electrical charge. River had spent a good hour convincing the Doctor that cracking open their dinner guest to study this phenomenon would be in poor taste. When the day in question actually arrived, things went surprisingly well. River actually made her appetizers instead of popping out somewhere and stealing them; the Doctor didn’t explode the kitchen while making the beef bourguignon; and Nardole was an excellent first guest.

The problem appeared during the main course. One moment Nardole had been licking the gravy off his spoon and praising the buttery garlic of the mushrooms while the Doctor leered at her smugly, and the next he’d simply dropped his spoon and powered down, his head drooping against his metal shoulder.

River looks to the Doctor, frowning. “Should we be worried?”

He shakes his head, his brow furrowed and his fingers tapping idly against the table. “Don’t think so,” he says, eyeing Nardole like the exact opposite might be true. “Lots of people eat too much and need to nap.”

“Not midsentence. And he’s not people, darling,” she sighs. “He’s a robot.”

Before he can reply, Nardole’s head begins to disappear – sinking into the confines of his metal body. River can only watch in helpless fascination, like a pedestrian witnessing a car crash, as Ramone appears in his place. He yawns widely, as though he’d been interrupted mid-nap, and blinks as he takes stock of his surroundings. When he sees River, he breaks into that big grin that had endeared him to her the first time they met. “Hello you.”

River darts a glance at the Doctor, who looks too bewildered by this turn of events to even be properly annoyed about it. “Hello Ramone. Everything alright?”

“I think so.” He squints, as though taking stock of himself. “Nardole ate too much.”

She pointedly ignores the Doctor’s terribly unsubtle gloating. Gesturing to the spread before them, she asks, “Hungry?”

“I could eat.” He looks down at his plate, brows lifting. “Is this for me?”

Pasting on a smile, River nods. “Yes. Of course.”

Finally seeming to realize he’s about to have dinner with his wife and her ex-husband, the Doctor shifts uneasily in his chair. His right eye twitches.

“Oh, how nice.” Ramone leans forward, inhaling deeply. “Whatever it is, it smells delicious.”

“Beef bourguignon.” She bites back a smirk, glancing at her husband. “The Doctor made it.”

“Did you really?” Ramone shovels a generous bite into his mouth and groans, eyes falling shut. “It’s very good.”

The Doctor’s grip around his fork tightens and for a moment River wonders if she’s about to have the privilege of witnessing her two-thousand-year-old husband start a food fight. At last, he sighs through his nose and loosens his white-knuckled grip on the poor cutlery. “It’s River’s favorite,” he grumbles, “So I learned to make it.” His eyes narrow and he stares pointedly at Ramone as he adds, “Because I’m her husband.”

River rolls her eyes and reaches for the pinot noir.

Undeterred, the Doctor presses, “We’ve been married for centuries. In multiple universes. Did she tell you that?”

“Hmm? I think she mentioned it.” Too engrossed in his food, Ramone doesn’t appear to notice the Doctor’s annoyance despite his complete lack of subtlety. It’s part of the reason River had gotten so annoyed and erased his memory; he’s such a dear, dense thing. If only he weren’t so damn pretty.

Helping himself to a glass of wine Nardole hadn’t finished, Ramone turns his attention back to River. “I like the new flat,” he says, smiling at her. “How are you enjoying your stay so far?”

And thus begins the most awkward evening of her life. Considering the length of her life, tonight ranks pretty high on a fairly substantial list of terrible evenings. She makes polite conversation with her ex, telling him about the new furniture she and her husband just ordered from the next planet over and how offensively high the shipping cost had been. They discuss mutual friends and reminisce about previous adventures, all while the Doctor stews in silence, scowling at his plate. River keeps her hand on his thigh under the table, squeezing every now and then just to see him twitch.

After what seems like hours, dinner finally comes to an end. Ramone wipes his mouth on a napkin and pats his metal belly. “So, what’s for dessert?”

River opens her mouth, already smirking, but the Doctor cuts her off with a glare. “There is no dessert,” he says firmly. “At least not any you’ll be getting.”

“Spoilsport,” River murmurs, ignoring Ramone’s puzzled glance. She pushes aside what’s left of her wine and conjures up her most charming smile. “Actually, I think we’ll call it an early night, if you don’t mind. The Doctor has a headache.” She tips her head, nose wrinkling. “Or he’s about to, at least.”

“Erm. Yes.” The Doctor quirks an eyebrow at her, his leg shifting under her palm. “There’s definitely some throbbing.”

She nearly chokes, smothering her surprised laughter in a strangled cough that makes her eyes water. The Doctor grins shamelessly at her, looking triumphant and smug in a way she absolutely shouldn’t find sexy. She really does anyway.

“Right,” Ramone says, eyeing them strangely. After a moment, he seems to give a mental shrug before pushing back his chair. His metal body clicks and whirrs as he rises, suddenly towering over them both. “Thanks for dinner. It was lovely.”

River presses her lips together, still far too amused to manage speech.

The Doctor, damn him, looks cheerful for the first time all evening. “Our pleasure.”

Together, they walk Ramone to the door and see him off, waving in the doorway until he disappears down the corridor with clunky steps. The moment they shut the door behind him, the Doctor dissolves into laughter. Helpless but to join in, River tugs him in by the collar of his shirt and presses her giggling mouth to his cheek. “You jealous idiot,” she laughs. “He’s no one, you know. Just a bit of fun.”

He huffs. “We’re fun.”

“We are,” she promises, swaying into his chest. She tips back her head and meets his soft gaze. With a sigh still bubbling with laughter, she admits, “We’re… everything.”

The Doctor dips his head and kisses her – a bit rougher than normal, just possessive enough to make her shudder. Nipping at her lip as he pulls away, he nudges his nose against hers and whispers, “Dessert?”

River grins, slipping her arms around his neck. “I’ll clear the table.”

#drfic #river song #twelfth doctor #river x twelve #riverdoctorpromptweek #my fic

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rmg91 · 3 years

Text

Zoe Week; Day 6-A Night Off

AKA Comfort Zoe Night

So, this was the first prompt I actually wrote cause it spoke the most to me (the fluffy potential) but then the muses decided to be difficult and I struggled with it until like 2 days before Zoe Week began. I also wound up scrapping my partial first draft and re-writing the first bit to be slightly based off some wonderful Teny art because I realized it could still fic with my idea! (Gotta love great art that inspires) (The art in question is those wonderful pics of Zoe and Douxie as he meets her after a shift at Hextech and then precedes to be a little shit) Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this one and hopefully it doesn’t end too abruptly, like I said the muses wanted to be difficult with this one.

AO3

~*~*~*~*~*~

The night was clear and cool, something that would usually bring calm to the pink haired witch as she walked home from another busy day at Hex-Tech but not tonight. The day had been absolutely brutal. First she'd had the early shift, which was never fun, then she'd been assigned to the bar for almost the entirety of her shift which meant dealing with all sorts of customers. The irritable, the entitled, the ones that just wouldn't listen, it had almost driven her insane by the time her lunch break arrived. It was only after slurping down a cup of noodles and sending a curse heavy text on how crappy her day had been so far to Douxie that she got the wonderful news that she had to work a double shift. She was so going to curse Dave the next time she saw him, she always got his shifts whenever he didn't come in. And of course that extra shift came with, you guessed it, more bar duty! So Zoe had dealt with double the awful customers! Including two absolute Karen's. Why her managers kept putting her in the front when her talents lay better with the tech itself, she'd never understand.

At least she was finally off for the weekend...

Coming around the last corner before her apartment building, she spied her longtime partner and lover, Hisirdoux, leaning against the chain-link fence, waiting for her. She paused for a moment, taking in the rare relaxed air around him and admiring his bare biceps for a moment before sighing, knowing why he was waiting for her. And usually she'd be ready to go hunt Niffins and take on whatever else they might encounter on a Friday night, especially after the day she had, but she was too beat to do anything more. So shifting her bag in her grip, she made her way closer to the wizard, not looking forward to canceling their plans.

“Ah! The fair lady approaches!” He exclaimed, noticing her first with a smirk before his face soften, “Rough day, Love?”

“Uuugg!! You have no idea!!” She groaned, knowing her text had said as much but now she could rant in person about just how bad it actually was. Stopping next to him, she ran her fingers through her hair before rubbing at her temples, trying to push down the migraine that had been brewing since two o'clock, “Not only did fuckin' Dave not come in, we had two, Two, Karen's come in! I was almost certain we'd have a third but thankfully her husband calmed her down. Of course then that entitled Spanish teacher had to come in, again, who, of course, I had to deal with! Not to mention all the other sorts that came in today... And! Because the universe's law apparently decided to hate me today, someone calls right before closing!” She groaned again, feeling annoyed anew rather than relieved after her rant. “Anyway, as much as I'd like to go Niffin hunting, I'm just too beat-!”

Distracted as she was with her rant, the hedge-witch hadn't noticed Douxie's arm sneaking around her before he wrapped it around her shoulder and laid a kiss on her head. He hummed into her hair, nuzzling her softly, “I'm so sorry your day sucked, Darling.”

“Yeah, well...” Zoe felt her cheeks heat up, sinking into the hug he started to give her and feeling most of the fight leave her suddenly. You'd think after almost five hundred years of being together romantically this sap wouldn't cause such a reaction but you'd be wrong. “It's over now, I guess...And I have the weekend off thankfully.”

“That you do~” Douxie sang into her ear before suddenly rubbing his hand over her head vigorously and messing up her hair, “And I'm sure you'll feel much better after a good nights sleep!!”

“Aaarrgggg!!!” Zoe cried out in surprise and anger, “Hisirdoux!!” She pushed him away, glaring at his grin before marching away, “Jerk! Why do I like you again?!”

“Because without me and Arch your life would be dreadfully boring~?”

She huffed and flattened down her hair, “Hardly.” She then glared over her shoulder, “You are so sleeping on the couch tonight, or better yet, your own apartment when you get done.” She honestly wondered why she put up with his antics.

Douxie merely laughed some more, catching up to her and wrapping his arm around her waist, “Actually, Love, I've decided we're all taking the night off.” When she looked up at him with a disbelieving look he responded, “Really! Wards are already in place around town, so if there's any trouble, Arch and I can go take care of it but otherwise...” The wizard shrugged, “We're all off for the night and you have a little surprise waiting for you~”

“A surprise? Really?” She glared up at him, still annoyed, “I doubt whatever it is will make up for that stunt you just did...”

“I think it will~!” He sang.

Zoe huffed and crossed her arms, muttering a 'whatever' and allowing him to escort her to her apartment building and up to her home. Entering, she dropped her bag and kicked her shoes off by the door, striding over to where Archie was laying on the back of the couch and greeting the familiar with a chin scratch. Glancing around she saw nothing out of the ordinary with the exception that her sink was now empty of the few dishes she'd left there. If that was her so called 'surprise' than it was going to take a lot more than him doing her dishes for her to calm down from that surprise noogie. Lifting an eyebrow at the wizard, silently asking just what exactly he had planned, she watched him grin again before he offered up his arm to her.

“Come with me, Milady~ Your surprise awaits~”

Looking back down at Archie, the black cat merely stretched and stated, “I've been sworn to secrecy.”

Right, of course. Rolling her eyes, the pink hair witch allowed Douxie to guide her down her own hallway, stopping in front of the bathroom. Usually she could sniff out an idea on what he liked to surprise her with but tonight between her exhaustion and the fact that she was still a little annoyed with him, made her question just what he could've set up in the bathroom of all things.

Grinning down at her, Douxie gently pushed the door open and snapped his fingers. A dozen candles lit with the small pulse of magic, illuminating the simple space with a soft orange light and revealing the steaming, bubble filled bath. The light aura of blue magic indicated a warming spell, keeping it the perfect temperature for when she got home. Zoe let out a soft breath, feeling most of her annoyance leave, and leaned against him, letting him wrap his arms around her and nuzzle the top of her head. Trust this wonderful sap to fix her up something like this after she'd rough day at work. Sometimes Zoe wondered just what she did to have someone like Hisirdoux Casperan in her life but she certainly wasn't going to be ungrateful about it. She was even willing to let the whole noogie thing go...mostly.

“I want you to know I don't completely forgive you for that stunt outside but this...is a nice surprise.” She could even make out the light scents of tangerine and patchouli wafting from some of the candles. “And you can't always get away with something like that either.”

He chuckled low, placing a soft kiss on her head, “Of course, Love~” He carefully stepped back, bowing in an exaggerated manner as he gestured to the bathroom, “Now, do please enjoy, Milady, and once you're are done a meal will be ready for you.”

She snorted, “You can't cook.”

He clicked a pair of finger guns at her, “No but I can work an oven!” He then left her to her own devices with a final grin.

Zoe rolled her eyes and shook her head fondly. Gods he was a dork.

~*~*~*~

Twenty minutes later found Zoe happily relaxing in her bath, feeling better after the day she'd had, eyes closed as she listened the soft tunes playing from her small radio. She had to hand it to Douxie, he had thought of everything when setting all this up. The candles were the right amount of light, the radio was already set to play and the bath was filled with her favorite brand of bubble bath. There had even been a rolled up towel for behind her head as she leaned back in the tub. Humming along softly to the music, Zoe only wished for one last thing to make this perfect.

As if summoned by her thoughts, the door opened slowly just enough to allow a wine glass surrounded by blue magic to float in. Laughing lightly, she grabbed it out of the air, taking a sip before calling out, “Thank you but you could've given me it in person.”

“A gentleman never intrudes on a lady.” Was her response before she was left alone again to enjoy her bath.

~*~*~*~

Zoe eventually emerged, having stayed long enough for her fingers to prune slightly and for the water to grow cold, plus her stomach kept protesting the lack of food. So she made her way into the living room wrapped in one of Douxie's old bad shirts and a hoodie she had stolen, breathing in the scent of a freshly cooked frozen pizza. She was passed a plate with two large slices of her favorite kind, three meat with extra mushrooms, and had her glass refilled before being pointed over to go recline on the couch. Shaking her head, she followed the silent order and sat down, digging in before her boys were settled. Archie was passed a plate of salmon and sardines before Douxie joined her, his own plate balanced in a hand.

“So, what does the lady wish to watch tonight?” He asked, reaching for the remote and flipping through channels.

“Hmm...” The pinkette hummed, tucking her knees under her before taking a large bite of her pizza, “Don't really care. Just find something we can zone out to or make fun of.”

“As you wish~”

“Oh gods, no! Do not put that movie on!” She exclaimed, “I will kick you out if you do!”

Douxie laughed, almost spilling his dinner, “Very well! Not in the mood for it tonight.” He continued to chuckle as he flipped through more choices before settling on another horribly inaccurate film of a time they've lived through.

Later, once food was eaten and their movie had changed to something else, Zoe was snuggled against Douxie's side, on the verge of sleep. Archie was a ball of purring warmth on her lap and Douxie kept running soothing circles on her arm as she listened to his heartbeat. The witch was once again grateful to have these two in her life, not knowing just where she'd be without them. They made the bad days better. Wither it was helping her with a sprained ankle from running from goblins, helping her fight of a demon hellbent on kidnapping all the girls in a village or having to deal with crappy customers all day, they were always there beside her. Even if Douxie loved to take cheep shots that ultimately pissed her off even more. Zoe knew she'd always forgive him. And so, full, relaxed and loved, she fell asleep.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Aaahhh, Zoe loves her dork~ And gotta love cheesy endings lol! Hope you enjoyed and aahh!! Zoe week is almost over!

#ZoeAppreciationWeek #Zoe Week #Zoe #Douxie #Zouxie #Archie #ToA #Tales of Arcadia #Tales of Arcadia Wizards #Wizards #Fanfiction #Fluff

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queenof-literature · 3 years

Note

Something with Wind and Wild finding out Wild’s actually related to Wind? (It’s a personal hc of mine that they’re related due to vah medoh being named after Medli and the fact that there are rito in the first place + rito’s village theme being a variant of the dragon roost island theme)

Thank you for the prompt anon! That’s a fun headcanon and I did my best with it! I hope you enjoy!

I said in an announcement I’m putting shorter requests/drabbles in its own story and place in my masterlist to make things a bit more organized. Here’s the Ao3 link to that.

“When will we learn to stop trying to figure out the timeline.” Warriors deadpanned to Sky as he watched the others fight.

“Do we ever learn?” Sky replied, laughing at the sight before him. He supposed there were benefits to being the forger of the Master Sword. His place in the timeline was relatively solid.

“No, no, no. We all know there are different timelines, there has to be.” Hyrule waved his hands.

“Yes, and you and Legend are in the same one, we know that at least.” Four nodded.

“Why does it matter?” Wild whispered to Twilight.

“It doesn’t.” Twilight said simply.

“That’s funny coming from you! Legend pointed. “You have blood relation to prove your place in the timeline!”

“It’s Time’s fault for breaking the timeline in the first place.” Four accused.

“Hey! Blame the sages, not me.” Time spoke up, holding his hands up in defense.

“Do you know where you are in the timeline?” Twilight asked Wild curiously while the others fought around their campfire.

“It’s been 10,000 years since the last hero in my Hyrule.” Wild shrugged. “So, I mean, does it even matter in my timeline?”

“I’ve never been big on blood meaning everything, the people in Ordon are my family even though I was found in the woods. But if you’re curious, we may be able to figure it out.” Twilight assured. Wild never knew how he and the others somehow always knew what to say to him.

The truth was, Wild wasn’t sure that he wanted to know the answer. The group had helped him understand that the events of 100 years ago was out of his control, even if he had a hard time believing it sometimes. But he wasn’t stupid, he saw the forlorn gazes the others cast towards the ruins of his Hyrule. Castletown was a ghost of itself, even if Zelda had plans to begin rebuilding, it wouldn’t be the bustling city the other Links knew for a long time, perhaps with the small population of his Hyrule it never would be.

But he loved his Hyrule. He knew every inch of the land yet it still managed to surprise him. The land nurtured him, and he nurtured the land. He ensured monsters didn’t destroy nature, and nature forgave him for letting wildfires. He killed animals for food and ensured he used every part. The others could make fun of him all they wanted, but it was a mutual bond he longed for when he was far from it. To see the others look at it with such sad gazes after a long journey… he understood, but it hurt.

“Meh.” Wild answered. “If we happen to figure it out, then we figure it out.” Wild ignored the suspicious look Twi sent him. Wolf boy was too perceptive for his own good.

“Well Wild and I are obviously in similar timelines!” Wind, with ever impeccable timing, proclaimed.

“Don’t sound so sure.” Warriors challenged. “Don’t forget that almost your entire world is water.” Warriors said, as if Wind could forget that. As if Wind could forget that his entire kingdom of Hyrule flooded, the kingdom Time worked so hard to protect.

“Yeah, no shit!” Wind cursed to let out some steam. “But water dries, I’ve seen entire places in other Hyrules that used to be covered in water.”

“Those are lakes and rivers, not entire oceans.” Legend spoke up.

“Yeah but Wild has said before that the last hero came 10,000 years before him! Who knows what has happened since my time! And before the hero who knows how long it’s been since I was there!” Wind puffed out his chest.

“What makes you so sure it’s you anyway?” Hyrule asked.

“Easy! Our Koroks are practically identical! I mean evolution takes time right?” Wind asked with arms wide. “And Vah Medoh, that divine beast Wild told us about, sounds like Medli from the Rito in my world. And you guys don’t even have Rito! Maybe they originated in my Hyrule and continued on in Wild’s Hyrule! The music they play and their instruments are really similar!” As Wind kept listing off points, Wild didn’t know what to think. Wind? His predecessor? Perhaps even his blood? How was he supposed to react?

“And what does Wild think of this theory?” Sky raised an eyebrow. Despite his teasing tone, Wild knew Sky was making sure he wasn’t left out of this conversation, and it wasn't for the first time Wild was extremely grateful for Sky.

“Yeah Wild! What do you think?” Wind was practically vibrating with excitement and nerves. What did Wild think? He didn’t have any better theories, and besides, Wind made a lot of valid points. Wild bit his lip.

“W-well.” Shit, Wild could feel the words bubbling in his throat again. It’s been so long though! “I mean, I- well.” Wild tried to repeat what he had been thinking about, how Wind made great points and how the boy had obviously thought long and hard about this. Instead, with a frustrated huff, he raised his hands to sign, as usual he appreciated that no one interrupted him. ‘Sounds good to me.’ Wild signed simply, hoping his message came across well enough.

“Yes! I’m a grandfather!” Wind cried cheerfully, much to the shock of the other Links.

“We never agreed you were blood related-” Four tried to argue, only to be shushed by Wind.

“Shut it, sonny!” Wind pointed with a glare he most likely thought was threatening.

“You have to at least put a thousand ‘greats’ in front of that grandfather title.” Warriors lectured with an amused smirk.

“No one has time for that! I’m near the end of my life and you want me to waste time on that?” Wind shot back, as if they were the ones being ludicrous.

“Wind, you’re 14-”

“I’m old!” Wind cried out. “I’m decrepit! My joints ache! My knees pop every time I bend down!” Wind rambled.

“Looks like you’re being replaced.” Legend whispered to Time, who simply glared back. He did not sound like that!

Hyrule glanced towards Wild, slightly afraid this conversation would make him upset. Finding out where you were in the timeline was… odd. It was nice to know where you stood but the answer wasn’t always happy, or it wasn’t always what you wanted. Hyrule relaxed upon seeing Wild smiling and laughing at Wind’s antics with the rest of them, only getting louder as Wind continued on. Wait, didn’t this mean Wild was a part of Time’s line? And so Twilight’s as well? Oh well, better not go there tonight.

“Hey Wind?” Wild questioned turning in his bed roll to face the younger boy. The others had mostly turned in, and Wind had settled next to Wild’s bed roll, causing Wild’s chest to light up with an odd warmth.

“Yeah Wild?” Wind ceased his joking tone at Wild’s serious one.

“Are you… upset? That it's me who's your potential predecessor?” Wild asked hesitantly.

“Wild we’ve talked about this-”

“No, no, not that.” Wild really did not want to get into his, what Four called, ‘self esteem issues’. “But… I’ve seen the way you all look at my ruins. Aren’t you, you know, sad, that that’s what Hyrule turned into?” There was an awkward silence and Wild as glad Sky was probably far enough away for his watch he couldn’t hear them.

“Do you remember when we first got to my Hyrule, I mean the first time with you there?” Wind asked, and Wild didn’t see how this related but let the boy continue. “And you were stunned by how much water there was. I mean the look on your face.” Wind joked, but it was stiff and dry. “I was self conscious too. Especially with the Hero of Time there, I loved visiting my home but having Time there always made me nervous. I mean I was already suspecting that he was perhaps part of my timeline. What if he found out his Hyrule, the one he worked so hard to save, was flooded during my quest?”

“That wasn’t your fault-”

“I know.” Wind interrupted Wild, with a small smile that this time seemed genuine. “Still at the time, the way you were all were still talking about how much water there was, how irritating it was to go around on boats all the time, how odd it was that there were so few land masses. It scared me, I thought they all hated what their land had become.” Wild’s eyes widened in surprise. He never even knew…

“But Time knew something was wrong, of course he did. I couldn’t tell him yet, I had to be sure. I didn’t want him to know until I knew for sure, as excited as I was to meet the Hero of Time, I was so scared what he would think of me, of my Hyrule.” Wind’s voice trailed off into a whisper, and wrestled his arm out of his bed roll and placed it on Wind’s shoulder. That’s what he was supposed to do, right? He relaxed when Wind smiled and nodded in thanks.

“What he said, it stuck with me. I told him how I felt, how the others seemed to hate my Hyrule. You know what he said?” Wild knew it was a rhetorical question, still he shook his head. “He said ‘It’s not bad, it’s different.’ I know it's simple, but he’s right. We’re just not used to each other’s Hyrules, that includes you Wild. We’re not used to ruins, or Guardians, or insane lightning storms. But the giant mushrooms you have are amazing.” They weren’t really mushrooms, but it still caused Wild to smile. “And those super tall islands you showed us! And your Rito have an amazing village. You know how I see it?” Wind waited for Wild to tilt his head against his bed roll. “I think our Hyrules just prove that no matter what, we’ll endure. There’s been cataclysms, great floods, calamity, but no matter what, Hyrule finds a way. That’s pretty great, don’t you think?” Huh, Wild had never thought about it in that grand of a way. He knew that the people of Hyrule, all of them, Hylian or no, were strong. But Wind put it into perspective. Wild wondered if Wind knew how good he was. Just… good. A good kid, a good hero, a good person, a good brother. Just genuinely good. Wild didn’t know how to say that, especially without sounding patronizing, so he settled for something else.

“You’re right Wind, thank you.” Wind knew the words were simple, but the emotion behind them got Wild’s point across perfectly. Wind smiled brightly.

“That’s Grandpa Wind to you.” Wild had to muffle his laughter in his bed roll.

~~~

This turned out a lot more fluffy/little angsty I hope that’s alright anon! Thank you for reading all, I hope you enjoyed!

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