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pacificwaternymph · 1 year

Note

angst ask angst ask angst ask

either 21 or 47 for witchcraft flower husbands? i know it's not going to be canon but i know you love them and i love agreeing (and wc scott is just perfect for any angst)

Figured I'd just combine these <3 Anyway you guys are making me vibrate in my seat so here we go.

"Scott?"

Scott barely dared to breathe.

He was there. He was right there, standing in the middle of the circle, the same as he had been the morning of the day he died.

There was no gaping hole in his chest, no blood or tear in his clothing, no burnt hair or broken bones. His hair, golden in a way Scott's hadn't been in a very long time, was decorated by a crown of poppies. He still wore his wedding ring around his ring finger.

"Jimmy" Scott breathed. He'd dreamed of this day for years, plotted over and over how it would go, what he would say. Yet in the face of his love, his husband, all his words left him. His vision started to blur.

"Scott- is that- is that really you?" Jimmy took a step forward, hesitant. "Where am I? What are we doing here?"

Scott opened his mouth, to say something, or do something, he was right there why couldn't he say anything-

"Jimmy." He repeated, forcing the name past the lump in his throat. He stared up at the other man with a reverence from his position on his knees, drained from everything the spell had taken from him.

He wasn't really there. Scott didn't have Jimmy's body, nor did he have a body suitable to attach his spirit to. He didn't have the resources, the time, or the power to bring him back fully, not yet anyway. He still needed more.

But he'd found a spell. A way to contact someone from the other side, to speak with them, if only for a short time. And it had worked.

Because Jimmy's apparition was standing right there, at the edge of the spell circle, still looking hopelessly lost and confused. Of course, he had no idea what was going on. One second he'd been in his afterlife, and the next he'd been dragged through the veil to the land of the living. It was bound to be disorienting.

He needed Scott to explain everything. But he still found himself speechless, watching the beloved form of his husband as he waited for a response.

"Scott- you're- you're starting to scare me." Jimmy brought one hand up to rub his forearm. And no, that was wrong. Jimmy shouldn't fear him. His husband should never fear anything from him. "What happened to you? Why do you look so..."

Scott blinked, and looked down at himself. Yes, he supposed that he did look different than he had when Jimmy was still alive. His hair for one thing. But that was likely the least startling change.

Scott felt shame flush his cheeks. He was a hollow mess, an empty shell of the person he once was. The bags under his eyes had grown so dark that he feared they wouldn't go away with a week's worth of sleep. Decay spread up his arms and in the ground beneath him. He was ragged and torn, little more than a husk.

"I..." Scott dragged his eyes up to meet Jimmy's. He forced himself to his feet, ignoring the way he swayed as he stood upright and pain burst between his eyes. "You're here. You're really here."

"Where is here?" Jimmy asked desperately. He tried to reach out, to help steady Scott, but his hand bounced off an invisible barrier, white light flaring up around the edges of the circle. Just another downside to the spell--the person inside could not leave, and the caster could not enter.

"You're-" Scott flinched at the scratchy sound of his own voice. "I've brought you back."

"Brought me... back?" Jimmy shook his head bewildered. Scott couldn't meet his eyes, but after a few moments, they widened. "You don't mean-"

"Not permanently." Scott hurried to clarify. "Not yet. I... I'm not strong enough yet." He stared at the palms of his hands, nearly overtaken by rot. Jimmy followed his gaze, and his expression turned horrified.

Scott couldn't help but curl in on himself at the way his husband looked at him. But he understood. It was horrifying, and he'd long since grown used to people looking at him like that. It never bothered him, in fact, he reveled in their disgust.

But... he never thought about what would happen if he looked at him like that. He couldn't handle it. The one that he'd done all this for, the reason he'd become a necromancer in the first place, was staring at him like the monster that he was.

Scott had to convince him. He had to show Jimmy that he was still his Scott, that nothing had changed. He was still just as devoted to him, he would never turn a hand to harm him. He would rather plunge a sword through his own neck then allow anything to happen to him ever again.

He clenched his fists and lowered them, returning his gaze to Jimmy's gorgeous brown eyes.

"But I will. I've been chosen, Jimmy. I'm competing to become the next Supreme Witch. And when I win, I will finally have everything I need to bring you back for good. Then everything will be as it once was."

He clasped his hands together in a pleading motion, practically begging Jimmy to understand. To not be scared. To not be disgusted by the wretched creature he had become.

But Jimmy didn't look scared or repulsed. He looked sad.

"Oh, my love..." His voice ached, in a way that Scott had never heard it before. He felt his breath catch in his throat as Jimmy put a hand up to the force field that kept them separate. "What have you done to yourself?"

Scott broke. A sob escaped his throat, and he reached up cover his eyes, cover his weakness. But then- why? Why was he hiding it? This was Jimmy. His husband. His beloved. He'd never judge Scott for such things as crying.

Scott placed his hand on the barrier, right over Jimmy's. His head thunked forward against it, the tears continuing to pour, dripping onto the soft dirt below him and disappearing.

"I love you," he whispered. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

And he was. He was sorry that Jimmy had died. Sorry that Jimmy had to see him like this, in this worn state. Sorry for everything he'd sacrificed to get to this point, and for all the things he would have to sacrifice to continue. Sorry that he wasn't strong enough yet, sorry that he hadn't already won the trials.

"I love you too." Jimmy bent over slightly so that he could see Scott's eyes. "Can you look at me?"

Of course he could. He would do anything Jimmy asked of him, no matter the cost. Scott forced himself to look up, sniffled and swiped at his eyes to try to get himself to stop being such an embarrassment.

"I love you, Scott. More than words could ever express." Scott opened his mouth to say it back, say it a thousand times, anything to prove that he could still be the lover Jimmy deserved. But Jimmy held up a hand to silence him. "But I don't want you to bring me back."

Scott felt the floor drop out from underneath him.

"What...?" He felt like he couldn't breathe.

"Move on, Scott," Jimmy pleaded. "Find someone else. Don't stay hung up on me forever. Please."

"No." No, no no no. He couldn't. He'd spent so long trying to bring Jimmy back. He'd wasted away for years, searching for answers. He'd done too much, sacrificed too much. "I can't."

"Yes you can." Jimmy smiled sadly. "You don't need me. You can find meaning in your life elsewhere."

"I don't want to." Scott couldn't give up now. Not when he was so close to figuring it out. "Jimmy, I- I'm too far gone. I can't let go, I'm sorry. I- I have to do this. I have to prove that- that I'm still-"

Still what?

Still a good person? He'd passed that threshold a long time ago. Still worthy of Jimmy's love? No, of course he wasn't. He hadn't been even when they first met, and he certainly wasn't now.

But then what? What was he trying to prove? Who was he trying to prove it to?

"You deserve happiness, Scott. I don't want to be the reason you stay miserable forever."

"You wouldn't say that if you knew everything I've done."

And oh, there it was. This was a punishment. This was his self inflicted atonement for allowing Jimmy to die in the first place. An impossible task that had seemed so far out of reach when he first started. But now he was mere steps away from the finish line, and he'd actually begun to hope.

So perhaps it was fitting that this was where he would have it ripped away from him.

"I don't know. And I don't care. There is nothing you could do that would make me think any less of you, Scott. I do love you, and I always will. But my time has passed. I don't belong here anymore. Please, do yourself a favor and let me go."

Scott could barely hear him anymore over the ringing in his ears. Let go. He'd heard those words so many times, from so many different people. Cleo, Eloise, Delilah. Each and every one of them had told him what Jimmy was saying now. But he'd brushed them off, and now look where he was.

The light emanating from the runes on the ground started to fade, and Jimmy's solid form turned translucent. He was fading, and quickly, but Scott wasn't ready yet. There was still so much he wanted to say, so much he wanted to do.

Jimmy noticed it too. "Petal?" Scott snapped back to attention. "Win that competition. Become supreme witch. And then forget I ever existed. Be happy. Live your life to its fullest. I'll see you in the afterlife."

Scott felt the tears anew. He didn't say anything, didn't do anything. He just stood there as his love vanished once more, leaving him alone.

As soon as the last of the light disappeared, and the chalk blew away in the wind, he fell to his knees, and sobbed until the sun came up.

#witchcraft smp #wcsmp #flower husbands #my writing #writing prompt #ask game #smajor1995 #scott smajor #dangthatsalongname #solidarity gaming #jimmy solidarity #solidaritygaming

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freckleslikestars · 1 year

Text

"I'm very hard to catch," she says in a tremulous voice. "And if they can't catch me, they can't kill me. So don't count me out." "I wouldn't in a million years..."

Amandla Stenberg as Rue | The Hunger Games (2012)

#I painted a load of water colours of rue flowers for this but then I couldn't get it to overlay on the gifs how I liked #so I had to change plans #might do all the characters as sets like this #Rue always has and always will be my favourite. Fight me #the sudden resurgence of the hunger games on my dash prompted me to rewatch the series #and then promted me to rewatch them again #and now I'm rereading them aloud to dad whilst we're in the car or cooking or such #my gifs #the hunger games #hunger games gifs #hunger games rue #amandla stenberg #hunger games

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fugitivehues · 10 months

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Flower language: white egret orchid with daisuke & Satoshi 😳

white egret orchid | 夢でもあなたを想う | Even in dreams, I think of you

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i've been having a lot of dreams lately too tbh

#satoshi hiwatari #daisuke niwa #dnangel #watercolor #fanart #myart #satodai #flower prompts #prompt game #anonymous #anon do you know HOW MANY times #i reread the flower list before realizing this one wasn't on there?? xD

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ranger-ribbons · 29 days

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So, here’s the thing, I saw the cute flower prompts and was trying to pick a few, but you know me and I know you soooo… can I get the whole garden (all ‘em!) for my boyos! (Dillon/Ziggy) 💚

I do, yes. You do know me very, very well! Thanks, babe! <3 /plat

(Dillon is a big, tough, macho man until Ziggy's around, then he turns into a big softie)

Big thank you to Estel, who gave me the prompt for Magnolia.

Agapanthus - Love Letter

Dillon grunts a greeting to his teammates as he passes, looking for food. It's been a long day for him, and he's actually hungry, so he's gonna eat while he has the opportunity. It's hard sometimes when all he can do is taste the salt and sugar in a meal, but it's what he's gotta do while the cybernetics in his system are slowly taking over.

"Dillon!" Scott calls, making Series Operator Black look up, annoyed. "Ziggy left something for you on the table. He said you'd like it."

Dillon raises an eyebrow but heads for the table anyway. "Thanks," he says to the Red. Ziggy's been gone on a solo mission with Flynn for a few days now, something to do with power cores and mechanical parts Doctor K needs.

Dillon finds a bag of candy and a piece of the pie Summer had baked a few days ago. Summer had said it had all been eaten, but Dillon knew better than to think Ziggy didn't squirrel some away. Dillon smiles. The pie is actually pretty good breakfast food, and Dillon is glad to see it.

Next to the food is a letter. It's adorned with little black and green hearts. They're Ziggy's way of showing his love. Dillon opens the note.

Dillon,

I asked Scott to give you this if the mission ran longer than they thought it would. Turns out, getting these parts takes longer than it's supposed to, who knew? Anyway, I know you don't like big gestures of affection, but I also know you like Summer's baking. So here's my sign of affection for the day.

Love,

Ziggy

Dillon smiles, folds up the note, and puts it in his pocket. It's not your usual love letter, like the ones Summer talks about on those soap operas she won't admit to liking, but it's adorable, and Dillon loves it.

Basil - Hate

Dillon stares at the Green Ranger, the one who had once captured his heart. He stares at the half-dead corpse taking up space on the testing table. Dillon stares as Ziggy Grover screams and cries.

Ziggy sobs, pleading for Dillon to let him go, to come back to himself, to stop hurting him.

Dillon watches apathetically, staring with sharp eyes. He doesn't love this man, not anymore. Dillon doesn't love him, no. He hates Ziggy Grover.

In fact, he thinks he's never hated anyone more. That's why he tortures Ziggy Grover.

Cactus - Passionate Love

Ziggy gasps as Dillon slips his tongue between the Green's teeth. The whole kissing thing is still pretty new to Ziggy, and the Green knows Black wouldn't remember kissing anyone anyway, but still Dillon kisses like he's been doing it his whole life. Like Ziggy is the only thing in this world that matters to him.

"You okay, Zig?"

A little moan falls off Ziggy's lips as Dillon's mouth attaches itself to the younger man's neck. "Yeah," he breathes. "Ju-just keep doing that."

Dillon chuckles. "Yes, sir."

Daphne - I Wouldn't Want You Any Other Way

"Dillon," Ziggy says, coming towards the Fury, where Dillon works on his precious baby in the garage.

Dillon looks up, setting down the wrench. "What's wrong, Zig?"

Ziggy comes closer, which isn't unusual, but he's hunching in on himself, one arm gripping the other at the elbow, and his too-long bangs are hiding his eyes. "Dillon, do I talk too much?" he asks softly.

Dillon knows immediately what happened. The other Rangers agents shy about telling Ziggy exactly what they think of him. They've all lived through the war, experienced the loss that comes with it, and completely forget that Ziggy is just as traumatized as the rest of them. He just deals with it in a different way.

"Am I annoying you?" Ziggy asks, voice trembling.

Dillon drops his tools right there on the ground. "No, Zig," he replies. He draws Ziggy into a tight hug and feels as the Green Rangers begins to sob. "No, I wouldn't want you any other way."

Echinacea - Strength and Health

Ziggy yelps as he gets thrown flat on his back once more. "Dammit!" he curses, head thunking back against the ground.

"You're getting better."

Ziggy groans, "It's not good enough. Scott, Sunmer, and Flynn have all been fighting for longer than me and you... Well, you're you."

Dillon chuckles, sitting in the grass. "You're doing really good. You're better than you used to be."

Ziggy sighs. He looks up at the clouds and watches them cross the sky lazily. "It doesn't feel like it," he admits after several minutes of silence.

Dillon lays next to Ziggy, looking up at the sky just the same. "You are," he promises. "It doesn't feel like it, but you are."

Ziggy hums. "I don't know if I'm strong enough to do this, Dil."

Dillon is silent for a while, then his hand grasps Ziggy's on the grass. "If you aren't, you can borrow my strength. You've got this, Zig. You're stronger than you know."

Ziggy grumbles, but his smile says everything. "Thanks, Dillon."

"Anytime, Zig."

Fern - Sincerity

"Ziggy, don't be stupid! Look at him, it's not Dillon right now!" Scott shouts across the battlefield.

Ziggy's axe is in his hands, reared back and ready to strike, but looking into the eyes of his target, Ziggy can't bring himself to do it. It's not that Ziggy loves Dillon so much, the thought of hurting him is staying Ziggy's hand - no, Ziggy's way too selfish for that.

It's the look in Dillon's eyes.

Normally, when Dillon gets taken over by Venjix, his eyes go dull. They lose all spark of life, any signs of warmth are suppressed, and they're just... dead. This... this is different. Dillon's eyes are warm and full of life.

"What are you waiting for?" Flynn shouts, flipping away from a Grinder's swing.

"Just do it!" Summer adds, charging her Zip Charger.

But Ziggy puts his axe away. "No," he murmurs. "I can't."

Because in Dillon's eyes, there's a sincerity that's never been there before and Ziggy can't bring himself to snuff it out.

Gardenia - Sophistication

I never went to prom, actually. The words echo in Dillon's mind. Who hasn't been to prom? Prom is one of the few things Dillon remembers clearly. He'd gone to his high-school prom with this firecracker of a boy Dillon had thought he could one day love. That boy reminds Dillon a lot of Ziggy, honestly.

Let it never be said that Dillon doesn't do things for his boy. He stands in a pure black suit that's been mended several times with his hair slicked back and a flower in his lapel because there's no boutonnieres in the apocalypse. Dillon hates how stuffy it is, but the stuffy feeling is worth it if it means Ziggy gets the night he deserves.

After all, Venjix was defeated a while ago, so they should celebrate at this point.

The sophisticated get up is just starting to really get to Dillon when he finally looks up and sees. Ziggy comes down the stairs in green, green, green and Dillon smiles.

"Hi," Ziggy says.

Dillon holds out a hand. "Hey," he murmurs.

It's just as powerful as "I love you."

Hibiscus - Delicate Beauty

Late at night, sometimes, when Ziggy can't sleep, he likes to watch Dillon. Dillon doesn't sleep much, so Ziggy has to be quiet anyway, and if Dillon wakes up, it usually leads to sex, which means that Ziggy doesn't really care either way, and it's his favorite time of the night.

Something about the way the moonlight hits Dillon from the window makes him look fragile. It's captivating and Ziggy wishes he could take a picture.

"You gonna stare all night?" Dillon asks without opening his eyes.

Ziggy laughs, snuggling closer. "What can I say, I like what I see."

Iberid - Indifference

It happened again. Dillon was overtaken by Venjix once more. Ranger Black fights against Scott, Summer, and Flynn with ferocity he only displays on the battlefield. However, he won't touch Ziggy. Ziggy can fight him, and he'll defend himself, but Dillon always escapes away to another part of the fight, back to Rangers Red, Blue, and Yellow.

Ziggy thinks that hurts more than Dillon getting taken over by Venjix again.

Jasmin - Amiability

"He's a little social butterfly, ain't he?" asks the man Dillon didn't bother to get the name of.

They sit together at a table in some ratty old bar Ziggy had recommended. Apparently he'd worked here once before Venjix. What kind of person would give a bartender job to a kid barely 17, Dillon doesn't know, but he guesses that doesn't really matter.

"Yeah, I guess so," Dillon replies, knocking back his shot and signaling the bartender for another.

Ziggy is fluttering from table to table, a little drunk, but no less aware. For Ziggy to be only a little drunk in the three hours they've been here is a feat all of its own. Ziggy is an extrovert (according to Doctor K) and he likes people, so it's easier for him to get drunk when people think he's cute and buy him shots.

The stranger pours himself another drink from the whiskey bottle in front of him. He knocks the shot back, then asks, "He yours?"

Dillon smiles, downing the shot the bartender sets in front of him and putting a hand over his glass when the bartender makes to pour the third drink. "Thanks," Dillon says to the barman. Then he turns back to the stranger. "Yeah," he says with a brilliant smile, "he's mine."

Kalanchoe - Persistence and Eternal Love

It's been years, too many years, since Dillon took off in the Fury after nearly killing Ziggy in a PTSD fit. Ziggy's been looking for him ever since.

It isn't Dillon's fault that Ziggy had been having a bad day, nor is it Dillon's fault that Ziggy chose to take it out on the backyard fence. Dillon had come home and seen Ziggy with a pipe in hand and the flashbacks kicked in. Dillon was doing the only thing he thought he could do, which was to eliminate the threat. It's not Dillon's fault, but still he felt it was. Ziggy's been trying to track Dillon down every single day since.

It's almost six years to the day when Dillon left that Ziggy finally tracks his husband down.

Dillon sits in a jailcell with his head down. His hair's been cut and his eyes are dull. His nose is crooked and still leaking blood, but he's still the most handsome man on this gods-forsaken planet. "Dillon," Ziggy murmurs as the guard leads him to the cell.

Dillon flinches, but doesn't look up.

"You got five minutes," the guard warns, then he heads back out the door.

Ziggy looks at the Black Ranger in front of him. "Dillon, what happened?" he asks, putting his hands on the bars. "Talk to me, please."

"Shouldn't you be at home," Dillon asks gruffly, still not looking up.

Ziggy frowns. "No, my place is with you. Please, Dillon, talk to me."

"Ziggy, please," Dillon says, finally looking up. One eye is black, and the other has deep bags under it, making Ziggy believe Dillon hasn't slept in days. "Don't make this any harder for me that it already it."

"Tough shit," Ziggy snaps back, eyes going sharp. "We're married. I love you. You abandoned me, now the least you could do is talk to me and tell me why." His eyes go soft once more. "Please, Dillon. I love you. Just talk to me."

Dillon hesitates, then sighs. "Alright."

Lantana - Strictness

"No," Dillon snaps, grabbing Ziggy's belt and holding fast. "You know damn well you aren't allowed to throw yourself needlessly into any kind of danger."

Ziggy curses, squirming in Dillon's hold. "Lemme go, Dillon!" he curses.

"No."

Ziggy groans. "You and your rules."

Magnolia - Dignity

Dillon storms through the base, a letter in his hand and a snarl curling his lip upward. He stalks past Scott and Summer, past Flynn and the twins. He only stops once he stands in front of a door with green letters labeling it as Ziggy's room. Dillon knocks roughly on the door.

Ziggy opens the door and pokes his head out. He smiles. "Hey, Dillon. Come on in!" The door creaks open and Ziggy disappears behind it.

Dillon slips inside the room and closes it behind him. He breathes out a sigh. "Zig, we gotta talk," he says.

Ziggy bops his head in agreement, sitting down on the edge of his bed. "What's up?" he asks.

Dillon only hesitates a second, wondering if he should tell his boyfriend what happened. Ziggy needs to know, he tells himself. "This came for you today," Series Operator Black says, handing over the letter.

Ziggy raises an eyebrow, taking the letter. He reaches for the flap, and pauses when he sees what Dillon's done. "You opened it," he says factually. When Dillon nods, Series Operator Green swallows nervously, and slowly pulls open the envelope. The pictures fall out first, the ones that show Ziggy in undignified ways. The ones where Ziggy is naked and looks terrified.

Ziggy goes quiet. "Where did you get these?" he asks in a quiet, shaky voice.

Dillon shakes his head. "Some guy with a scorpion tattoo gave them to me. Said they were from Fresno Bob."

"Fresno Bob wouldn't do this," Ziggy snaps, voice full of venom and fire. "He wouldn't do this to me!"

Dillon nods, though he's not so sure Fresno Bob wouldn't do something like this. Most cartel and mafia bosses are all the same, and Dillon wouldn't put anything past any of them.

Ziggy makes a terrified noise, biting back a sob. "These are supposed to be gone," he whispers. The pictures get tossed to the floor. Some many of them feature Ziggy covered in various body fluids and blood.

"I can destroy them for you, if you want, Zig," offers Dillon, fully ready to rip the pictures into shreds and light the remains on fire.

Ziggy nods and Dillon snaps up the pictures, shredding them into pieces without a second thought. Then he grabs all the pieces and puts them in Ziggy's trashcan. "I'm gonna take this now," he says, indicating the trashcan with a shake of his head, "and you don't have to worry about it anymore. Okay?"

Ziggy nods. Dillon sits on the edge of the bed with him and hugs him tightly. If Fresno Bob ever comes back, Dillon will tear him apart like the pictures.

Narcissus - New Beginnings

Dillon looks out into the desert, surveying the dust and dirt, watching tumbleweeds blow by. He watches the world around him move. His bones still ache with the weight of the cybernetics that Doctor K couldn't remove, but with most of the cybernetics gone, Dillon finally feels like he can breathe again. Dillon listens to the wind, the sounds of static on the radio, the silence that settles in the cab of Dillon's car.

The car door opens and the car rocks lightly before the car door closes. "Alright! Where are we headed?"

Dillon smiles without looking up. He reaches for the car keys in the ignition and turns the key smoothly. The car sputters to a start and the motor purrs. "Anywhere we want," Dillon replies, glancing to the passenger seat.

Ziggy grins, leaning back and buckling the seat belt. "Let's go, Dil," he says.

Dillon smiles back, turns back to the road, and puts the car in gear.

Orchid - Refined Beauty

Ziggy whistles. "Now that is a nice-looking vehicle," he says appreciatively, looking at the beautiful yellow motorcycle Summer had brought home when her first one crashed into some Grinders at 70 miles per hour.

Dillon agrees with a slow, "Mm-hm."

Glancing at each other, Dillon and Ziggy both simultaneously agree not to tell Summer, snag the keys off the bar table, and zoom out of the garage without a backwards glance. She'll find out eventually, but until then, they'll have their fun.

Peony - Anger

"Don't touch me!" Ziggy snaps, knocking Dillon's hand off his shoulder.

"Zig," Dillon tries to say.

Series Operator Green shakes his head vigorously. Dillon shuts his mouth for fear of Ziggy making his concussion worse. "You don't get to be all sad and upset over this right now!" Ziggy says firmly. Her eyes blaze with restrained anger. "You're the one who did this! How many times did you tell me that I can handle myself? Then you go an' try to protect me in a fight I can handle myself! What the hell were you thinking, Dillon, huh?"

"Ziggy, I... I..." Dillon doesn't answer fast enough for Ziggy, apparently, because Ziggy only gets more upset.

Ziggy sits up, the bruises on his face shining dully in the low lighting. "Your dumbass decided to protect me and got me hurt in the process because I was so worried about protecting you because you LEFT YOURSELF OPEN TO ATTACKS!" Ziggy yells.

Dillon tries to speak, to tell Ziggy that he doesn't know what happened, that he'd really meant to stay in his lane and give Ziggy the space to be the fighter Dillon knows he can be. The words get stuck in his throat and Dillon can't speak them.

Ziggy scoffs. "Get out," he says, eyes filling with tears. "I don't want to see you right now."

"Ziggy..." Dillon tries to say.

"GET OUT!" Ziggy roars, grabbing the spare pillow and tossing it at Dillon with unnerving accuracy.

Dillon ducks, making a hasty retreat before Ziggy's patience ran out. "I'm sorry," he whispers as he closes the door behind him. The only answer he hears is a choked sob.

Quince - Perseverance During Adversity

"Ziggy?" Dillon asks, quietly opening the door.

"Get out!" Ziggy shouts back, just like he does every time, still angry at Dillon and unwilling to talk. "I don't want to see you! Get! Out!"

But Dillon is prepared this time. He comes in anyway. "I'm not leaving, Ziggy. Not this time."

"I don't want to talk to you," Ziggy replies, voice full of venom and fire.

"Well, too bad," Dillon replies. "Cause I want to talk to you." He comes closer. Ziggy glares at him beneath his too long bangs. Tears glitter in hazel eyes. Betrayal that hits hard, even though it's not really betrayal. Dillon sighs, "Ziggy."

"Say what you're gonna say and get out," Ziggy snaps coldly.

Dillon decides it's better to show than tell. He takes a chip out of his pocket and sets it on Ziggy's side table. "Doctor K found that in my neck when she checked me over after the battle. She said it was programmed to make me recklessly protective."

Ziggy looks at the chip with disgust. Then realization dawns on him, and he looks up at Dillon. "Someone put that in you?" he asks.

Dillon nods.

Ziggy's face falls and he scrubs a hand down his cheeks. "I'm such an idiot," he says regretfully. Looking up at Dillon, Ziggy continues, "I'm sorry. I should've known better."

Dillon shakes his head. "It's okay. You were hurt. I'm sorry too."

Ziggy offers a little smile. "Thanks, Dil."

Rose - Love

Of the many things Ziggy loves about Dillon, his lack of self-preservation is not one of them. "Dillon," he says, snappish and angry. "You're not allowed to throw yourself into dangerous situations either."

"Ziggy," Dillon warns, voice rough.

"No," Ziggy growls, stomping forward until he's toe-to-toe with Dillon, staring up the several inches between their heights. "You listen!" he demands. "Because you can't seem to get it through you're thick skull that I care about you, you idiot!"

Dillon, stunned silent, says nothing. He lets Ziggy stare up at him with sharp eyes and doesn't move, doesn't speak.

"I love you, you absolute dumbass," Series Operator Green says. "I love you, and you're not allowed to do dangerous things. I love you, and you're not allowed to leave me behind while you go off and play hero, like a dumbass."

Dillon's lips twitch upward.

"I love you," Ziggy continues, "and I couldn't stand it if you left me, so don't fucking leave me!"

Dillon sweeps Ziggy into a tight hug, which cuts off Ziggy's next words. "I love you, too, Ziggy."

Sage - Good Health and Long Life

"So," Ziggy whispers, "it's gone?"

The doctor nods, making a few notes in Ziggy's chart. "That's correct, Mr. Grover, the cancer has fully cleared and your cells are working at a normal rate. I'd like to get some blood work and scans, but you are officially in remission, Mr. Grover. Congratulations," the doctor replies, looking up with a smile.

Ziggy smiles, biting back a choked sob, then unable to help the next. Next to him, Dillon squeezes Ziggy hands. "Congrats, Zig," Dillon murmurs, pulling Ziggy into a hug.

Ziggy laughs through his sobs, face buried in Dillon's shoulder. If Dillon minds that his shirt is suddenly soaked, he doesn't say. Ziggy cries, Dillon holds him, and for a moment, nothing else matters.

Trillium - Modest Beauty

"Damn Ziggy, you look good!" Summer compliments from the couch, arm thrown around Flynn.

Ziggy grins. "You like it?" he asks, twirling around. He's wearing a cute green skirt that he'd picked up on one of their last trips to the clothing store. It had called to him on the rack. It was pretty modest, high waist, and the hem just under his knees, not exactly what Ziggy usually would wear, but-

"You look gorgeous," Dillon murmurs, arms wrapping around Ziggy's waist. "Beautiful."

Ziggy grins, twisting to meet Dillon's eyes with a smile. "Thank you," he says softly.

Dillon nods.

Ursinis - Trickery

"Dillon!" Ziggy shouts, skidding to a stop in front of Series Operator Black. "Dillon, we gotta go! Boxarok captured Scott, Flynn, and Summer, we gotta go save them!"

Dillon blinks, shaking his head. He looks at Ziggy and nods. "Yeah," he replies. "Let's go!" But something about his voice is off.

"Dillon, before we go," Ziggy says, paranoia born of dealing with people who would sooner trick and kill him. "What's my deadname?"

Dillon blinks, then gives the answer without hesitation. It's wrong. Of course it is. Ziggy never told Dillon his deadname, Dillon didn't care to know. Ziggy's eyes fill with tears. "Dillon," he whispers.

Dillon's face suddenly stretches into an unnatural smile. "That's not the right answer is it?" he asks.

Ziggy shakes his head, stepping back.

Dillon sighs, "Dammit." He lifts a hand and clicks his fingers. Ziggy's world goes black.

Vervain - Pray For Me

"Oh, god," Ziggy mumbles over comms. "Oh, god, oh, god, oh, god."

"Ziggy?" Dillon asks, concerned.

"I'm over the vent," Ziggy replies. "I see Venjix. God, if this doesn't work..." Ziggy doesn't have to finish the sentence. If this doesn't work, Ziggy will probably be dead.

"It's gonna be okay, Zig," Dillon assures him, though he's not even sure himself.

"Pray for me," Ziggy whispers. "Here we go."

Waterlily - Birth and Resurrection

Ziggy grumbles under his breath, listening to the preacher go on and on about the birth and resurrection of Jesus Christ. He hates churches, they're always so stuffy and full of hypocrites and assholes.

Dillon makes an agreeing noise at Ziggy's side. "I know," he murmurs. "It sucks, doesn't it?"

Ziggy nods, sinking deeper in his seat. "This is stupid. Why did Mom want to meet here?"

Dillon snorts softly. "Who knows. The hardcore religious people won't ever make sense to me."

Ziggy snorts. Then, he leans closer. "Thanks for coming with me," he says.

Dillon smirks back. "I had to," he replies teasingly. "You can't stay outta trouble by yourself."

Ziggy almost interrupts the sermon with how hard he laughs.

Xeanthemum - Eternity and Immortality

A little known fact about the Morphin Grid? It offers its Rangers immortality. It's the one thing that Ziggy hates, even all these years later.

He and the other RPM Rangers meet up every couple years, but Dillon hasn't been seen in several years now. Scott, Summer, and Flynn think he must've finally pissed off the wrong person and gotten himself killed. Ziggy knows better. Ziggy would feel it if Dillon had died.

So he's not shocked in the slightest when Dillon strolls over in the middle of one of the RPM meet-ups, twists a spare chair backward, and sits in it casually. Leaning forward, Dillon steals a French fry off Ziggy's plate and hums, "These are good."

Scott, Summer, Flynn, and the twins are all a little shocked. It's been years since any of them had seen Dillon, but here he is. Alive and well.

Ziggy smiles, grabbing Dillon's hand. With a serious look, his face falls, and Ziggy says, "You're telling me where you went." It's a fact, not a request.

Dillon nods. "And I'll spend the rest of eternity making it up to you," he promises.

Yellow Bell - Rebirth

Dillon opens his eyes after the surgery, stares up at the white ceiling. He looks around at the hospital room with confusion.

"Welcome back, Dillon," says Doctor K, going by Krishana now that she's finally found her name from before. "Your surgery was mostly successful. As I thought, we were unable to remove all the pieces and hardware, but aside from the six piece in too deep to safely remove, you are free of your hybrid parts."

Dillon smiles. A hand squeezes his. "How do you feel?" asks Ziggy, there with Dillon in the aftermath, as promised.

Dillon hums, looking at Ziggy with loving eyes. "Reborn."

Zinnia - Lasting Affection

Dillon and Ziggy aren't particularly affectionate people in public, but that doesn't mean they aren't affectionate at all.

Dillon hugs Ziggy close as they walk down the street. Keeping Ziggy close is always a good thing. "You okay?" he asks quietly.

"Yeah," Ziggy replies. "More than."

Dillon smiles, and they continue walking.

Happy birthday!! @estel-eruantien

#power rangers #power rangers rpm #ask #mutuals #estel eruantien #thanks estel!#writing prompts #ask game #flowers #dillon #power rangers dillon #ziggy grover #dillon/ziggy grover

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creativesplat · 2 years

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Dreams

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a-lonely-dunedain · 10 months

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12 for Margim & Celeair

12. "help me"

Margim's old habits die hard as it turns out (I think I could've done better with this one, but my brain is deep fried and crispy so Words and Descriptions Do Not Go. I plan to shove all these little prompt fics into an Ao3 fic once I'm done with all of them, so I'll probably clean this one up/flesh it out a bit then.)

There were no casualties for us in the last skirmish with the Dragon-Clan raiders, but still some injuries, and that’s where my work began.

I’ve spent the last few hours in the infirmary with the other two healers patching everyone up. Exhausting but rewarding work, and far less grim for once. There was healing to be done, but no mourning. By the time we were done, no one was in poor enough shape that they would need to stay the night here, so one by one all of our charges were eventually sent home to rest, as were the other two healers. Except for me of course, I offered to stay behind and clean up so they could go to their families. Gathering up bloody rags and discarded vials, making careful notes of what salves and politics had been used so that we could resupply before we ran out, and anything else that needed to be set right.

Margim often stops by to help me with this, but I have not seen her yet. I imagine she’s celebrating the victory with Elain and her other friends, or has already gone home to rest and is waiting for me there. She looked tired when she returned with the other warriors.

Just then, I hear the door slowly open and soft footsteps approach. It sounds like someone is trying to be quiet, not necessarily trying to hide their presence, but trying not to draw attention to it at least. I look up from what I was doing and see that it’s just Margim. I smile at her "oh, hello Mar!"

“Can you… help me with this?” she asks quietly, although I'm not sure what 'this' is exactly.

“Hm? With wh…” I start to ask, but as she approaches I see the answer and my words seem useless. She moves her cloak aside to reveal a large black stain on her garment, her blood, slowly oozing from a wound on her side.

“You’re hurt!” I exclaim, gently taking her arm and guiding her over to a nearby cot.

“I noticed.” She responds dryly as she sits down, removing her cloak.

“How… How did this happen?” I ask, examining the wound. There is some panic in my voice, although I try to hide it.

“One of the cursed Draig managed to land a blow.” she says bitterly “Only after I caved his skull in, but his dagger found its mark anyway.” This is from the skirmish then, but… that was many hours ago.

“And you didn’t tell anyone?” I ask in equal parts confusion and worry.

“There were-” she winces as I remove her garment from the cut, I whisper an apology. I’m being as gentle as I can, but the blood has clotted to her clothes and there’s not a way I can do this that won’t sting at least a little. “-There were others more hurt. I would rather not take your attention away from them.”

“There was plenty to go around,” I take a nearby bowl of clean water and carefully start to clean the cut with a cloth, “and I would rather have tended to this sooner… What if it was-”

“If it was more serious I would have had no choice but to come earlier. But the cut was not deep, it could wait.” her tone is strangely defensive.

My brow furrows. Maybe the cut was not deep, but it was still in a place where any injury would be cause for great concern. She’s still bleeding, and ideally, she would not be.

“-really, it hardly even hurt!” she insists

My frown only deepens, it clearly hurts a great deal. Margim sees that I’m not buying the act and lets out a defeated sigh. “...I’m not a very good liar, am I?”

“Not to me, no.”

I’m nearly done dressing the cut. Luckily she was right that it was not deep, there’s little else I need to do to it, but I am still troubled by the fact that she waited hours before letting anyone see to it. It was not severe this time, but the concerning thought of her trying to hide a more serious injury –and the damage that could be done by that– is still in the forefront of my mind.

“So… why did you hide it then?” I ask quietly.

Margim’s averts her gaze “I… did not wish for the others to see.”

There would have been no shame in it, letting the others know she was hurt, for the other warriors were even bragging about their own wounds when I saw to them. The Caru-Lûth consider scars earned in defense of their land to be a badge of honor, as proof of what they endured for the sake of love and loyalty. The numerous battle-scars Margim already bears were part of the reason they so eagerly accepted her among their ranks, as they seemed visible proof of her strength and devotion. I know Margim would not see the scars from her time in Mordor that way, but whether or not she agreed with their assessment did not change the fact that they respected her for them.

None of them, least of all those who had fought alongside her, would ever think of her as weak for something like this.

“I do not think they would have thought any less of you for it.” I try to assure.

“That’s not what I was afraid of… I… do not know what I was afraid of.” she mutters haltingly, barely loud enough for me to hear. She seems to be looking away at something that isn’t there. “...It's a force of habit, I suppose.”

Ah, that makes more sense then. It was not a fear of shame that caused her to hide the wound, but an instinct carried over from Mordor, where showing any physical weakness would only paint a target on her back.

“You have nothing to fear here.” I say gently as I finish with the bandages, although I do not know if my words will do much to help. It’s not an easy thing for her to unlearn, not when it was fear that kept her alive for so long.

“I know it… but sometimes I think my heart does not believe it. We are not always on the same page.” she mutters slowly

“I understand. Well, a little bit, at least. If there is anything I can do to help, please, let me know.”

“You have already helped a great deal, there is nothing more I would ask of you.” she sighs “I think I would just like to go home and sleep.” she pauses, a somewhat regretful expression on her face "and... I'm sorry to have bothered you with all this."

"It's not a bother to me at all! I'm just glad I you're alright now."

#this ends. very abruptly #as I said brain not do words today. will fix later #I realize I've been doing Celeair's PoV for all the last prompts with them #I think that's bc he's currently Unable to narrate in Bitter Ash and Stubborn Flowers so it's like exclusively Margim PoV there #still I'm gonna try to make Margim the narrator with the next one #idk why but I can only seem to write about these two in first person #3rd pov is easy for everyone else but Margim and Celeair are just more talkative I guess #really idk what's been up with my brain sense yesterday but it's been like #me: ok let's get these last three asks done!#my brain: no (:#me: why not?#my brain: I don't wanna words. if you make me describe one more thing I'm going to bite you #well ok then!#methinks I should wait a bit before trying to get the last two done #lotro #lotro oc #Margim #Celeair #ask games

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minisugakoobies · 1 year

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I know this might be obvious but look... I have to bc I am a non binary girl who has a thing for this shit

Belladonna - yoongi

Popular choice tonight, Griddle!

Belledonna - Silence; A confession given without words.

Guard!Yoongi x Thief!Reader (GN)

Yoongi’s never been a rule-breaker. That’s how he ended up here, the head of the night guard, overseeing the dungeon in the wall protecting his kingdom from yours.

And yet.

He’s honestly surprised his fellow guards haven’t noticed that every time a certain thief ends up behind the iron bars, they manage to escape. Once might be a fluke. Twice, a mistake. But three times? Ten?

He knows he shouldn’t leave the cage unlocked. Eventually, it will lead to doom - yours, or his.

And yet.

As your eyes meet his, his sure fingers slide the bar open. What’s once more?

Send me a flower prompt & member(s) and I'll write you a 100 word drabble!

#flower prompt game #yoongi x reader #lovely moots #sugalaritae #anon #asks

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angrybatgaming · 4 months

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(Oldish video) Found a spot in Stray where if you time the button cue right, you can hop up onto this pipe(?) and get permanently stuck. At least until you reload the last save.

#gameclip #Stray #Stray 2022 #Antvillage #glitch #I laughed so hard when I got it #despite being slightly annoyed as I was trying to do the flower quest #I don't know if you can still do this #but you jump into the bucket and watch for this pipe jutting out from the wall #as soon as you see the prompt click it #and voila! you broke the game #good job. give yourself a pat on the back

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peachpowderstories · 10 months

Text

Scene inspired by @writtenbyevie 's lovely Flower Language Writing Prompts.

Specific prompt suggestion from @cremelin : Aurelio x Eric; Bluebell.

(Other info: Aurelio is her OC. Eric is mine.)

---

The pleather seats groaned as Aurelio sunk down, peaking over his steering wheel at the dim glow flickering behind the dusty barn windows. “What the shit what the shit…”

It wasn’t the first time he’d forgotten something at the barn, and it probably wouldn’t be the last. The unfortunate part was that he only ever realized something was missing upon arriving home, and it wasn’t a particularly short drive back. By the time he’d get back to the barn, the sun would be halfway hidden behind the trees bordering the surrounding paddocks. This meant he had to sprint into the dark, creepy barn to hunt down whatever it was he’d forgotten before getting the hell out of there. Well, it wasn’t so bad. There were still horses. Except when there apparently weren’t just horses.

This was the first time the dark barn showed signs of life after hours. And of course, it had to be the spookiest signs possible.

Aurelio winced as he pushed open the heavy wooden door, its creak echoing obnoxiously into the dim. He got the lights on quick enough, but hesitated in front of the locker room. There were no other exits though there, and the light had been coming from the stables. Having his back to a potential ghost horse wasn’t exactly ideal.

The thudding in his chest grew deafening as Aurelio instead turned to the hall. It drowned out the sleepy sighs and snorts of the horses around him as he stepped into the alley. The glow was still there. A dim blue that seemed to be coming from Babka’s box.

His breath caught in his throat. Babka always stuck her head out to say hi when someone came by. But now, as Aurelio squinted through the unlit alley, she didn’t seem to be in her box at all.

A surge of adrenaline made his muscles tingle. His own fear was set aside as concern for the horses rose above it. “Hey, is someone in here?”

There was a scuffle in the hay. Aurelio leapt back, cussing, as a figure popped up from behind the wall of the box. His mind was racing, scrambling to pick a course of action in the following seconds, before an all too familiar voice had his train of thought skidding off its tracks.

“Aurelio…? What are you doing here?”

“¡Dios mío, Eric! Hi!” He laughed anxiously, buckling over to put his hands on his knees while he fought to catch his breath. The whole thing suddenly felt stupid.

But Eric didn’t step out of the box to come greet his friend. He shifted his weight where he stood. “Did you forget something? Do you need help finding it?”

“Nah, I just left my phone in my locker. I’ll get it in a sec.” He strode over, his confident walk mildly disrupted by his still-jelly-ish muscles. He put an arm on the edge of the box and leaned against it. “What’s cookin’, good-…”

In close quarters now, Aurelio could see Eric’s face in the light of his phone. His eyes looked a tad puffy, and he had dark circles under them, disrupting the look of his usually perfect skin.

“…What’s up, buddy?”

Eric shrugged vaguely as he broke eye contact. He turned in the box, going back to the comfortable spot he’d been sitting in toward the back. And there was Babka. She had been sitting comfortably on the floor with Eric. Her skewbald, oreo-pudding-esque pattern still looked pretty ghostly in the light of Eric’s phone, but she stretched her neck out to give Aurelio a friendly ‘snuff’ in greeting. Eric leaned back against her side.

“My mom’s not reacting well to the chemo. She’s staying overnight in the hospital.” He shrugged again, a mindless gesture.

Aurelio paused by the door. Babka bent her neck around to give Eric’s phone a vague sniff. He gave her nose a scritch, but only the corner of his lip tipped faintly upward.

The lock clacked as Aurelio stepped into the box. He plopped down into the hay next to Eric and scooped his phone right out of his hand.

“You have Netflix, right? Oh yeah, here. The new season of My Little Pony came out. We’re so far behind!” With a grin spreading over his face, Aurelio pulled up the app and started the show, picking up from where they’d left off from watching it on their breaks. He shimmied closer to Eric, holding the phone between them. The blond didn’t protest.

The quiet space was filled with the girlish voices of colourful horses having friendship-themed adventures. Eric watched the show with quiet interest. Between scenes, Aurelio peeked to the side, and noticed a softer smile creep onto the boy’s face. Even Babka seemed to have an ear swiveled in the general direction of the cheery show.

Aurelio sighed in relief. As he turned his attention back to the phone, he let his head drop onto Eric’s shoulder. Eric’s warm cheek followed a moment later, resting tenderly atop Aurelio’s head.

#writeblr #my writing #new author #oc #horse girl #writing prompt #writing prompts #angst prompts #romance prompts #flower language #flower prompts #writeblogging #ask game #writing game #horse ranch #gay #lgbt fiction #gay fiction

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elliemarchetti · 7 months

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💭 🍰 👩‍🏭 ⏰

💭 What is a headcanon you have about your own work?

I don't know if it's a real headcanon, but in my head Elva (my OC from Beautiful and Dangerous) and Haldir find their way back to each other, but since I'm stuck with what happens after Helm's Deep, for now the ending lives only in my mind.

🍰 Name one of your fave comfort fics (doesn’t have to be your all time fave).

I LOVE The Wildest Winter by @separatist-apologist. I think I already reread it like three times and I have no intention to stop. The only childhood-best-friends to lovers I ever liked and I don't even know how to show the amount of appreciation I have for it

👩‍🏭 If one of your fics was going to get you arrested, which one and why?

Since I generally write for a teen and up audience, I think there's no fic of mine that would get me arrested for its content, but the process of how I got to certain informations could perhaps alert some security agency (I'm a little ashamed of the amount of times I had to look at travel times and the accident/crime rate of certain areas for To Love an Archeron)

⏰ Do you spend more time reading fic, writing fic, or do you do both equally?

It depends on how inspired I am. At the moment I feel like I'm spending more time writing than reading but only because I have

a three chapters Neris fic I want to post for Halloween

at least a couple ideas for Momo's Unofficial Snapetober

a multichapter fic for @emerieweekofficial

a four chapter fic for ACOTAR Secret Santa (double hype for this one because @secret-third-thing will be my beta)

a oneshot for the Comfort Zone Fest

my rewrite of The Deal

AND I'm looking into NaNoWriMo, The Dark Festivus Gift Exchange and @liquidluckdrabblechallenge's Roll The Dice Challenge (here's a link to the interest check if you're a Harry Potter person and would like to do something for it)

#sorry andri if I used your ask as a “coming soon” recap #sometimes i need to remind myself I don't have 48 hours in a day but 24 like everyone else #ask game #oh and my requests are still open so if someone wants something specific hit me up #i want to use my prompt list more but for now I did just one flower for a blackinnon oneshot #kinda spicy #kinda angsty #if you're into it

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ailendolin · 2 years

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I'm behind in my reading, but you know I can't resist sending you a prompt!

so dramatic: [vex] complains about their cold.

It took me three weeks but here it is - our beloved Elders being chaotic 😅 I hope you enjoy this little bit of silliness!

Next up:

⌘ - being picked up: Captain/Havers

≣ - hand holding: Thomas & Alison

Speechless: [Character] can’t talk because of a sore throat - Thomas

Error 404: [character] refuses to admit they’re sick - Ho-Tan

First Kiss - Robin/Julian

oh no: [character] gets sick at the worst possible moment. - Bill Shakespeare

The Captain comforting Kitty

Ask Games are here & here. Filled prompts are here & here on AO3. ________

Pneumonium

so dramatic: [character] complains about their cold.

“I am dying,” Vex declared heavily.

“No, you’re not,” Pressley said, barely managing to suppress a roll of his eyes. “You have a cold.”

“Because you fell into the pool,” Choop snickered.

Vex glared at them. “Yes, yes, it’s all very funny, isn’t it? Until I get this thing – what did Deb-beh call it? Pneumonium?”

“Pneumonia,” Ho-Tan corrected him gently after checking her notes.

“Yes, that. Until I get that and die a slow, painful and miserable death,” Vex said. He sneezed and slumped miserably in his seat.

There was a moment of silence as the other Elders glanced at each other, a little at a loss.

“Surely it’s not that bad,” Choop said at last. Vex sneezed again and glared at him pointedly as if to say, “Isn’t it?”

“It might get worse, though,” Pressley mused. The others turned towards him, not so subtly shaking their heads.

“Not helping, brother,” Flowers murmured.

Ho-Tan leaned forward a little so she could look at Vex. “We just need to keep you warm and hydrated and you’ll be back on your feet in no time.”

“I can help with that,” Flowers said eagerly – a little too eagerly. Before anyone could protest, he cast off his robes and threw them in Vex’s direction, hitting him directly in the face. Vex sighed but wrapped them around his shoulders anyway. He was cold.

“I could go make some tea?” Pressley suggested next. “Maybe put a little something extra in it …”

“No!” the others said in unison.

A few minutes, several blankets and a huge cup of tea (just tea) later, Vex was as comfortable as one could possibly be in the Elders’ Chamber. His personal cocoon was pleasantly warm. It didn’t stop him from aching all over, though, or prevent his throat from getting irritated by the first signs of a nasty cough

“Ugh,” he groaned.

Choop placed a gentle hand on his arm – or rather that part of the blankets he presumed Vex’s arm was under. “Why don’t you try to get some rest? It is supposed to help the healing process, is it not?”

The other Elders nodded so Vex sighed, shifted around a little to get more comfortable and closed his eyes. He was out like a light in seconds.

“I’m worried about him,” Flowers admitted quietly.

“Me, too,” Ho-Tan said. She scratched something onto the paper with her quill. “I’ll have someone come in to drain the pool as soon as possible. Who even thought it would be a good idea to put one in here?”

All eyes turned to Trevor.

“Don’t look at me!” he cried. “It was already here when I inherited my seat!”

Ho-Tan made good on her promise: a week later when Vex felt better again, the water in the Chamber was gone. Vex’s chest tightened with fondness when he realised what the others had done for him – until his foot caught the edge of the former pool and he stumbled right into it.

“Perhaps the water had served a purpose,” Choop mused once they had helped Vex out of the former pool.

Vex made an unhappy noise in the back of his throat and rubbed his bruised shins as Ho-Tan made a note in her records: Replace water in pool.

#wise elder vex #scribe elder ho tan #chief elder choop #vice elder flowers #lord elder pressley #yonderland #my fic #ask #ask game #ask game prompt ficlet

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cheeriosandwine · 2 years

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🌹+ Nanny Ashtoreth

Every morning Ashtoreth has coffee in the kitchen before the demon child Warlock is up. She stands there, in her pressed outfit and pristine curls, sullenly waiting for the caffeine boost her body shouldn't need, yet somehow requires anyway. It's bitter. She wouldn't admit to a single human in this house that her favourite way to consume coffee involves far too much sugar and milk and other frivolous flavourings. She has a strict image to uphold, after all, as the foreboding Nanny to the Antichrist.

Every morning, halfway through her cup, Brother Francis shuffles into the kitchen, all cheery, buck-tooth grins and good-mornings. He comes in through the door that leads to the gardens and he's inevitably gotten some streak of dirt or grass stain on his gardening wear already.

And every morning, Francis has a single cut flower from one of the garden beds that he places ever so carefully into a glass of water on the windowsill.

Ashtoreth always scoffs over how willing Francis is to damage his own work by cutting flowers he ought to be maintaining.

Francis is never perturbed by her grumbling, however. Instead he smiles and comments on how beauty brightens up the room, before making inquiries after her health and the child's and whether the two of them might take a stroll in the gardens later.

His commitment to continual positivity has to be quite draining, Ashtoreth thinks.

(Crowley knows indeed just how tiring it is, on he and Aziraphale's rare breaks together, when Aziraphale lets go of his persona and whinges about how terrible wealthy Americans are.)

((If Crowley also complains about how godawful boring it is to preach about death and havoc day in and day out, well, Aziraphale won't be spreading that around.))

Warlock gets sick one evening when Dowlings are out late at a party. The poor tyke cries for his mother, as Ashtoreth gets him into a new change of pyjamas and cleans up the mess. She mutters the same old drivel in a soothing voice, assuring him he'll be better in no time, and his powers will grow, and he'll never need to suffer sickness again.

It's only after he falls into an exhausted, mildly feverish sleep, that his parents finally return home. Ashtoreth marches down the stairs to greet them as they stumble in.

Thaddeus is too sloshed to even stand on his own, and Harriet dumps him off onto the butler. She's not much better off than he is, with her eyes glossy and center of gravity off balance.

"Warlock's taken ill," Ashtoreth says, but Harriet hushes her with a wave of her hand.

"You'll stay with him, won't you? There's a good nanny." Harriet grins drunkenly and makes her way towards her bedroom.

All Ashtoreth can do is grit her teeth in a joyless smile back.

She should have been off duty hours ago, free to sneak out of the main house to the little gardener's cottage, where she'd hoped to spend the night drinking in good company. The Dowlings' party attendance and Warlock's sudden illness were both last minute demands on her time.

Still, she heads back upstairs, entering Warlock's room just in time to hear him retch again.

"Nanny's here, darling." She brushes his hair back from his forehead and internally curses his incompetent, thoughtless parents.

When morning comes, Warlock's fever has lifted and his sleep finally deepens into something less restless.

Hoping he won't suddenly wake and be violently sick in the next fifteen minutes, she slips down to the kitchen for a few minutes of quiet and a strong cup of coffee.

The first sip of coffee tastes as horrendous as always, but she closes her eyes in weary relief at the energy it will soon bring.

The outer door creaking open alerts her that Francis is there.

She looks up to see him standing in the doorway, looking at her with concern, a single rose in his hand.

She must be quite the sight, Ashtoreth supposes, mentally evaluating her wrinkled, day old clothing. She can't see her own hair and makeup, but she feels the curls undone from their coif and her face must be a disaster after a sleepless night with a sick child.

She feels disgusting, and though she knows there isn't anything gross stuck to her, she can't escape the sense that she smells and looks as frightful as Hastur.

Then-

"Good morning, dearie," Francis says. He steps forward and carefully tucks the rose into her disheveled curls just behind her ear.

Ashtoreth snorts, although it almost sounds like a sniffle. "Foolish man, wasting your flowers."

"Not a waste at all, on something beautiful," he counters. His eyes are soft.

Ashtoreth wears the rose for the rest of the day.

Warlock wants to touch it when he sees it, after waking up at almost noon. When she bends down to let him touch the silky petals, he puts his little hands on her shoulders and says with all the sincerity his three year old self can muster, "Bwudder Fwancis likes you Nanny."

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This was for this ask game. I didn't have energy/remember to answer this until now, whoops. Also I guess I wrote way more than a snippet, this is basically a ficlet.

#thanks sway! 💜#i'm sorry i forgot to do this prompt for so long #hope you enjoy this #good omens fic #aziraphale/crowley #nanny ashtoreth/brother francis #warlock #my writing #flower fic game #also I didn't proofread or anything #but maybe i'll toss it up on ao3 and check it over then

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