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emeritus-fuckers · 1 year

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I got dumped on my birthday and I'm still not okay 😭😭 so if you could write some hcs or a fic on how all the papas would comfort you or deal with the situation? Please

But if you're busy or don't want to then it's seriously okay ❤️❤️❤️

I'm so sorry for you, babe! No worries, I got you! From the request I assumed you wanted it platonic, I'll gladly do another one if you want a romantic one, too - Jez

Papas comforting you after a heartbreak during your birthday party headcanons

Includes: Primo, Secondo, Terzo, Copia, young and old versions of Nihil. Sodo, Swiss, Aether, Cirrus and Cumulus mentioned in Copia's. Sister Imperator mentioned in Nihil's.

Primo

At this point we all know he's a top tier father figure.

If he witnesses it, the first thing he does is talk to you and ask the ghouls to take you outside so you can catch a breather while he gives the bastard who hurt you a very stern talking to.

Keep in mind, he's in his late 70s/early 80s. He might appear old and fragile, but this man can be scary. Very scary.

Might pretend to curse the poor bastard. Or actually do curse them.

Needless to say, when he's done, the whole room is quiet for a long time, even if he barely raised his voice.

He doesn't slam the door when he leaves. Doesn't need to.

He then joins you outside and gently holds your face, wiping your tears gently with his thumbs.

You spend the rest of your day in his garden or greenhouse, which is also his own little butterfly conservatory.

He'll make tea with you (from scratch!), walk you through the process of it and teach you which one is good for what.

Do you want to talk about the situation? He's all ears.

Do you want to distract yourself and forget about? He'll give you a tour of the place, teach you about the plants and butterflies (fun fact, I can also teach you about butterflies - Jez).

He'll keep you company as long as you need it and should you need a parental figure to help, he will.

He's absolutely the sweetest in that regard.

Secondo

Facepaint or not, this motherfucker can be intimidating as fuck. The poor bastard that broke your heart will absolutely end up crying just from this man's glare.

It's up to you to continue to party after that jackass leaves. If you want to continue the party, Mr. Worldwide over here will absolutely let out his inner party animal and help you forget everything.

If you wanna leave, you're leaving, no questions asked.

He takes you shopping and pays for everything you look at for more than five seconds. Everything you touch, too. And don't even try to protest.

"It's a gift from me to you. You won't turn down Papa's gift, now will you?"

Bro will gaslight you into letting him pay, it's best for you to just go with it, trust me.

Takes you to a fancy restaurant, somehow manages to get the entire place empty for the two of you. Don't ask me how.

Takes a week off and turns it into your birthday week. He takes you anywhere you ever hinted at wanting to go.

Even if abroad.

You are getting everything you want and that's it. There's no time to think about some idiot.

Terzo

He most likely causes a scene, mocking the bastard stupid enough to hurt you.

It's almost like a stand-up routine, where he somehow manages to point out the very specific thing that asshole is insecure about.

Nobody gets to hurt his friends and gets away with it.

The way he acts also puts the spotlight on the one who broke your heart, letting you slip out and take a breather.

Terzo will end his little performance by either spitting on the shithead's face or straight up slapping them, really depends on how strong your reaction was. If it was bad enough, he'd punch them, no questions asked.

When he's done, he'll come and find you, offering you a hug. He'll hold you as long as you need, rubbing your back comfortingly.

He'll ask you what you need. He knows nobody is gonna know how to help you better than you.

He'll probably have his ghouls keep people away from you until you feel better.

He will probably ask Primo for advice, too.

Terzo might be a shitty cook and and even worse baker, but if you like to do stuff in the kitchen, he'll do his best to help, even if it's just silly things like handing you ingredients.

He'd probably take you to an amusement park in the evening.

Buys you all the colors of cotton candy.

Buys you a big plushie of your favorite animal.

Terzo's comfort food is Chinese take out, so he'll probably get you to try that, too.

You get a second, better birthday party with him and the Ghouls.

Copia

Back in his cardinal days, he'd just take you away and try his best to soothe you.

As Papa, however, he got a major confidence boost (he's still very awkward, but he can be serious and confident when needed) and he won't let that slide.

Copia is by no means as scary as the other Papas can be, but he's got charm and he can make people just kinda... Flow with what he says. And his ghouls are a menace.

So when he throws a comment about the bastard, his ghouls (especially Sodo, Swiss and Aether) pick up on it and bully the life put of them.

Meanwhile Copia and the Ghoulettes leave the party with you, taking priority in your comfort.

Copia leaves you in their care for a bit so he can arrange something better for you. Cumulus is put in charge of taking care of you.

You get a sweet little homemade spa session with them and once Copia comes to pick you up, the Ghoulettes giggle at how flustered he gets for no apparent reason.

"Ah, I am terribly sorry for leaving you, I just wanted to make everything perfect for you, I hope they didn't mess with you too much!"

You ignore Cirrus's little giggle as she watches you both leave. She totally ships you guys.

Copia takes you to his room, his rats up and about, eager to play with you as she sits you on his little couch and runs to finish dinner preparations.

The food he made was just a little bit burned (he apologized for several minutes until you laughed and assured him it's fine), but you can definitely tell he made it with love!

Gaming night with him and the rats! He lets you do most of the gaming, only jumping in when you need help or giving you some tips. Even if the tips are a bit useless, it's the thought that counts.

You get ice cream, too. And have a sleep over. If you're uncomfortable with sleeping in the same bed, he takes the couch.

Copia just wants you to be comfy!

Young Nihil

This man will throw hands, no questions asked.

I mean it. He's a hoe, but he's very protective of his friends.

The bastard who broke your heart? Yeah, he's on the floor now, clutching his jaw.

"Serves ya right. Fucking bitch."

Nihil definitely spits on them, too. Might kick them in the stomach once for good measure before turning to you, wrapping an arm around his shoulder and telling everyone to go back to partying.

Gets you a drink. According to him, it's the best thing to do after a situation like that.

"That's what I did after Sister dumped me. And now I'm as good as new!" (bold faced lie)

You probably were there to see that this dumbass was a wreck and had to comfort him after Sister Imperator ended whatever the relationship has.

In his eyes, he owes you for that. He's... A bit stupid, though, let's be real here.

Ends up focusing more on making the party great and making the idiot who broke your heart regret their decision.

Once he realizes that's not what you needed, he asks what it is, then. Because in his eyes, there's nothing better he could do.

Give him detailed instructions. He'll forget half of it, but he'll go all out on the half he remembers.

Old Nihil

Bro takes it personally.

Scoffs and berates the bastard like he's the one who got his heart broken??

Goes at it so hard he needs a minute with his oxygen tank when he's done.

He then proceeds to leave with you. And demands you tell him what you want so he can throw you a better party.

He acts like he's genuinely offended at how the original party turned out and the only solution is to throw a bigger, better party.

Strippers will be included.

And fireworks.

Old man goes out of his way to make it as big and loud as possible like he's trying to prove something to the world.

Just like when he's younger, he ends up a bit too focused on it. You have to remind him yourself that it's kinda about you and not his party.

He waves his hand dismissively at that, giving you a checkbook. Sends you shopping with some ghouls. Probably gets you a grand makeover just for the party.

He'll keep you close when you're back and will ensure this party is the best party you've been to.

He's not the best at comforting, but he shows his affection a bit differently.

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legacyshenanigans · 4 months

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The Gaunt Brothers 🐍

Ominis still at Hogwarts / Marvolo has since left

Marvolo: Ominis, I need your help.

Ominis: You? Need MY help? HEH..And what is it you need help with, Marvolo?

Marvolo: I need a potion ingredient, I'm having trouble finding it, but I have a feeling the Green House at Hogwarts grows this particular ingredient *smirks*

Ominis: ....Ooook? And?

Marvolo: *sigh* God you're slow..And seeing as you are a STUDENT there still..You can...Aquire it...For me.

Ominis: "Aquire" pffft..Steal it?

Marvolo: Exactly *chuckles*

Ominis: And I assume this ingredient won't be easy to get hold of?

Marvolo: *sinful grin* It'll be in Garliks personal greenhouse, at the back where the students aren't allowed, where she grows certain things for folk outside of Hogwarts.

Ominis: So you want me to put together a heist of sorts, so I can get you this damn herb or whatever it is?

Marvolo: Get Sebastian to help you? Or your other friend's. Come now, Ominis. It's doable, isn't it?

Ominis: I mean..I guess so, but what am I getting out of it? *narrows his eyes*

Marvolo: Does my heartfelt thanks not suffice?

Ominis: HA! Absolutely fucking not.

Marvolo: *sigh* What do you want? *small frown*

Ominis: Coin..a nice CHUNK of coin *smirks*

Marvolo: *narrows his eyes* How much?

Ominis: Agree to give me coin..And I shall decide how much, AFTER the job is done..Depending on how awkward and difficult it may be..

Marvolo: Are you taking the piss? Just TELL me how much, Ominis?!

Ominis: Want that ingredient, don't you?

Marvolo: *sigh* You're fucking sly..Fine.

Ominis: Of course I am..I'm a GAUNT. You can't say shit. *chuckles*

Marvolo: ....Ok facts. But still *chuckles*

#the gaunts hc #marvolo gaunt headcanons #ominis gaunt headcanons #marvolo gaunt hc #marvolo gaunt #ominis gaunt

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novelmonger · 2 months

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I'm continuing on to the next LotR audio commentary. This one is with the design team, and there's a lot more people talking in this one! Including:

Grant Major (production designer), Ngila Dickson (costume designer), Richard Taylor (Weta Workshop creative supervisor), Alan Lee (conceptual designer), John Howe (conceptual designer), Dan Hennah (supervising art director/set decorator), Chris Hennah (art department manager), and Tania Rodger (Weta Workshop manager)

So here are some highlights of things that are new to me (after avidly watching all the BTS documentaries multiple times over the years) from FotR:

The guy who made the One Ring originally didn't want to do it because he didn't like fantasy, but then his sons badgered him until he agreed to do it - kind of a similar story to Viggo Mortensen, I think. He ended up contracting cancer and dying during the production of the first movie.

Alan Lee storyboarded a potential sequence for showing how Bilbo got the Ring. They would show Gollum grabbing a fish, taking off the Ring while he ate, and then it would roll away until Bilbo found it.

Some of Ngila Dickson's phrases and diction are pinging really loudly in my sense of deja vu - like, I remember hearing those exact phrases before. But I even went and watched the costume design portion of the Appendices, and none of it was a repeat. Have I actually heard this commentary before and then forgot all about it? @_@

The guy (the primary guy? I can't imagine it was only one person) they put writing on all the scrolls and things worked in a bank and had a hobby doing calligraphy. They hired him to do just a few things at first, putting writing on some props, but then it got to the point where he actually had to quit his job at the bank and start working full-time for LotR, and then continued to do stuff for merchandise for New Line. I do wonder what he did once the movies were all made and over with....

I always forget how they had to have two scales of everything. Not just stuff like Gandalf's staff or the sets, but they had to have two scales of all the props like cups and books and things. They even had to have two different sizes of horses, depending on the scene!

Lawrence Makoare, who played Lurtz, would have to start getting into makeup at 10 p.m. the night before he had a scene, so that he would be ready at 8 a.m. the next day @_@

Most of the horses used in the movies were Andalusian horses imported from Australia.

When they would film outside in nature, like in the forest where they shot on-location scenes for Rivendell, they would have to remove the native plants that were there, keep them in a greenhouse, plant whatever plants and other things they needed for the movie, then take them out again and put the original plants back. This would actually leave the area better than the way they found it, because they would remove weeds and things like that.

John Howe commented on how difficult it is to do hair in something like this that's meant to be kind of "historical," even though it's fantasy. Hairstyle is one of the things that is quickly outdated, so if you do it wrong, it can be jarring to watch the movie in later decades. He said, "I wonder how it will look 20 years from now." It's twenty years later, John. It looks every bit as good as it did in 2001 :')

Okay, I feel like this had to have been in the BTS documentary, but I don't remember it. For the moment where Bilbo goes Gollum-esque for a second when Frodo puts the Ring away, they morphed between his face and a puppet they made of Ian Holm looking deranged. Ian Holm was thrilled with the puppet and had several photos taken of himself with it, and then when it was time for him to leave New Zealand, they made a bronze version of the puppet and gave it to him as a memento! XD

For the shots of the Fellowship bursting out of the snow after the avalanche, they went to the Mt. Hart ski field, which was closed because of a blizzard. They were allowed to go out on the ski field, make snow caves, and film the actors bursting out into the open. The Hobbits wore Ugg boots over their hobbit feet in the snow when their feet wouldn't be in the shot XD Apparently, Richard Taylor actually asked Peter Jackson if there could be a scene of the Hobbits wrapping their feet in bandages or something, just so the actors could protect their feet a bit more in harsh terrain like that, but PJ said no, because the Hobbits' feet would be tough enough to be able to withstand all of that. Poor guys! x.x

Huh. I always assumed that they made the effect of ithildin by putting little glowing lights on the doors of Moria, or else maybe added it in post. But actually, they put some kind of reflective material on the design, and then shone a light from behind the camera, so it would reflect on the design and make it look like it was glowing! I feel like, if this movie were made today, they would totally have just done it with CG, but this makes it so much more realistic. Also, they had to paint the doors, but obviously couldn't paint over the reflective material, so they put plasticine over the design, then painted it, then took the doors to the site. They were still taking the plasticine off the doors when the whole crew and the actors turned up and started rehearsing the scene! So apparently, if you look hard enough, you can actually see a few small parts of the design on the door that are missing, because they accidentally left some of the plasticine on!

Okay, we all know about the crazy amount of attention to detail in these movies, but this story just takes the cake. In the room with Balin's tomb, there's all this Khuzdul writing on the walls. Someone wrote out all the text and had their in-house translator translate it into Dwarvish runes that they then carved into the walls. During one of the days they were shooting the cave troll battle, they had invited a Tolkien language scholar to visit the set, and he stormed out in an outrage, saying that someone had written something like "Joe was here" on the walls, which was disrespectful to Tolkien's legacy, etc. etc. Horrified to hear this, the art department got their translator to go over the set with a fine-tooth comb, trying to find the "graffiti" this guy had seen, because they'd already filmed a lot of shots of this scene, and they knew that there would be fans who would freeze-frame the scene and translate what's written on the walls. But they couldn't find it anywhere! So eventually they cornered the Tolkien scholar and asked him where he'd seen it, and it turned out that it was just some guy on the crew who'd told him that. Apparently, the Tolkien scholar was so uptight and serious about everything, this guy was just poking fun at him, and it snowballed from there. So they ended up wasting a lot of time looking for a mistake that wasn't even there, because that's how dedicated everyone was to getting every detail of this movie right.

The Moria orcs were originally designed to have pale, almost translucent skin (inspired by an axolotl! O.O), but when they saw footage of it on the first day, they realized the contrast with all the darkness in Moria was too much, and it made the orcs look like they were glowing, so they had to make them darker.

The eyes of the Moria orcs were enlarged after the fact, so when they made the prosthetics, they had to make the eyeholes extra big so the eyes would look like they fit after they were enlarged.

Originally, there was an idea that the Balrog would burst out from a wall somewhere while they're trying to jump across the gap in the stairs, and just generally make that scene even more tense and exciting, but then they realized that to do so would basically eat up half their budget, so they decided to do it the way it is in the final version XD

The boats' design was based on a leaf of a lemon tree. If you drop a lemon leaf in the water, it will look like a tiny version of the Elven boats! 8D

Ohhhh, so the scene where the Fellowship gets attacked by Orcs along the way down the Anduin was going to be a sequence at Sarn Gebir, where there are dangerous rapids, so the Fellowship has to land on the shore and carry their boats past. But then Orcs attack, there's a whole action scene, and they have to hurry back onto the water and navigate the rapids. But they never shot it, because right after they'd built the set and got all ready, they were hit with a lot of rain and flooding, and the water level in the lake where they were filming rose five meters and completely washed away the set. So that whole sequence got permanently canceled.

While working on Amon Hen, Alan Lee fell off the stone seat (kind of like Frodo!) and broke his wrist. Thankfully, it was his left wrist, so he could keep drawing.

The Uruk-Hai's hair was horsehair that they had to import because they needed it in such large quantities. In the location where they shot the battle at Amon Hen, the ground was covered with prickly bracken of some kind, so every time an Uruk fell on the ground and then got up for the next take, they would have to carefully pluck all the bits of bracken out of their hair @_@

The fletching on the Uruk arrows is supposed to be, not feathers, but Warg hair O.O

Okay, I knew they made a silicone dummy of Boromir for when his body goes over the falls, but they only had four days to make it?! :O

In the final scene, where Frodo and Sam are looking out over Mordor, what Sean and Elijah were actually looking at was a ski resort with cabins and a ski lift. "The one place in all Middle-Earth we don't want to see," indeed! XD

#lord of the rings #lotr #behind the scenes #gotta say it's MUCH harder to keep track of who's talking when there's so many people @_@#some of them have very distinct voices like richard taylor or john howe #but some of the kiwi accents just kind of blurred everything together and i couldn't tell who was who ^^'

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ikkaku-of-heart · 4 months

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The Polar Tang's Garbage Disposal

Because I've been playing so much Coral Island and needing to clean up so much garbage under the sea, it got me thinking about how the Polar Tang deals with trash. Because while the Heart Pirates are hardly paragons of virtue or necessarily even good people, when you live in a submarine and experience the beauty of the ocean close-up, you don't like to see it ruined by pollution.

This means that, while at sea, the Hearts work hard to avoid littering and the ship itself has several means of disposing of trash, depending on what kind. Leftover food is composted for the greenhouse where they grow fresh food and medicinal herbs. Biomatter that can't be composted (like bodies from the morgue) is put in the incinerator. Metal and glass is recycled. Miscellaneous trash is put in the trash compactor and disposed of on the next island they land on. And toxic waste is reserved for Shambling onto the next enemy ship or Marine base they happen to pass.

Also, enemy ships they sink are typically salvaged as best the Hearts can for both practical purposes and to avoid leaving trash in the ocean. However, bodies are typically left behind to feed the fish. Circle of life and all that, and Law typically can't do much with the damaged corpses and organs anyway.

#Working of the Mind (headcanons)#Home Sweet Home (Polar Tang)#(Law and his crew might be morally gray at best but they respect the sea and appreciate its beauty more than others)#(so they do what they can to not cause more damage than necessary to it)

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sencity · 10 months

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monomania . . ☪︎︎

a yandere is often sweet, caring, and innocent before switching into someone who displays an extreme, often violent or psychotic, level of devotion to a love interest. they becomes feisty and mentally destructive in nature through over protectiveness, violence, brutality or all three combined. a yandere is mentally unstable and uses extreme violence or brutality as an outlet for their emotions.

therefore, this section of the blog will contain gore, suicidal/homicidal tendencies, rape, graphic intrusive thoughts, sex, possessive/obsessive behavior, manipulation, stalking and more. your best bet is to turn tail and forfeit if you're too uncomfortable to advance. don't say i didn't warn you...

poet!fem yandere (oc).

“Poets are aesthetes that will immortalize your body with their touch alone, enabling a sensational desire that you’re completely unfamiliar with. So, would you be so kind as to be my eternal, personal muse? My…my inspiration and will? I promise that you’ll dwell in an everlasting state of heaven, hun.” — Amunet Musa.

oc reference/information.

headcanons, sfw … headcanons, nsfw.

botanist!male yandere (oc).

“You can call me delusional all you want, but I truly wish we become butterflies in our next life, fluttering around sucking the sweet nectar from pistils. Delusions are dreams that never come true, dummy. I’m realistically making you my plant, casing you in a small greenhouse to cater for you forever and ever…” — Sencha Villosa.

oc reference/information.

headcanons, sfw … headcanons, nsfw.

fashion designer!male yandere (coming soon).

“There is nothing crazy about me wanting you. I mean, just look at you. You have an amazing physical appearance. All I need to do is mold your personality to my liking, which shouldn't be too difficult. You also have the beauty that would make a guy worship but also kill, so it’s expected for me to torture your neighbor, really.” — Kahán Hikahële.

oc reference/information.

headcanons, sfw … headcanons, nsfw.

scammer!fem yandere (coming soon).

“Na, I’m serious, don(a). I’ve put so much trust in you to the point where all I have is uncertainty. I’d love to tell you the truth, but you have to return the trust in order for me to be honest again. Right now, I can’t even speak without feeling remorseful. I love you, cariño. Si... te amo....y tu me amas. Solo no quieres admitir eso, amor. Pero no te preocupes. Lo voy a probar. Porque… te amo…” — Sorrel Corzo.

oc reference/information.

headcanons, sfw … headcanons, nsfw.

miscellaneous

obsessive!yandere x narcissistic!darling (reblog)

botanist!yandere x entomologist!darling (ask’s/drabble)

poet!yandere x plus sized!dependent darling (ask’s/drabble)

the yanderes’ bdsm test scores.

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crystal-mouse · 6 months

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I need to ask somebody this question because it's been in my brain for a while and it's driving me nuts. Is spok vegetarian or vegan?

Because we all know he doesn't eat meat, but there wasn't a discussion about other animal products.

The closest we got to spock eating was with zarabeth where he suggested they start a greenhouse so they don't have to eat meat. He still could've suggested they get an animal and milk it (which would naturally lead to the question are Vulcans lactose intolerant but that's for another day)

On the other way when he's stuck with kirk in the 20th century, kirk brings him purely vegetables - no eggs, no cheese, no yoghurt, not even another comically large baguette. Which makes me think spock is actually vegan but I've never seen it addressed anywhere.

Hiya! Thanks for the ask- this is a really interesting question, and I think it generally comes down to three main points, which are:

What we see in the show

Cookbook interpretations/recipes

What replicator food counts as

As you mentioned we don't really see much of Spock's diet in TOS (beyond him saying he does not eat meat, plomeek soup and what Kirk brings him when they're stranded in the great depression)- so we can gather that he does largely eat a vegetarian/vegan diet but lesser the finer details. Many vegetarian dishes can also be vegan- so the fact Spock has eaten food that appears to be vegan, may not confirm one way or the other.

When you start to look at the cookbook's made in addition to the series (which tbh they might be less vegan friendly due to the years they were published) the Vulcan/Spock specific dishes listed in both the 1978 Cooking Manual and Star Trek Cookbook (1999) seem to be more vegetarian leaning and often contain animal products such as eggs, butter, cream, cheese and milk (which may also answer your question about Spock being lactose intolerant, but at the same time, i've never met anyone lactose intolerant who hasn't also consumed lactose intentionally).

Below are some recipes from Spock's section of the 1978 cookbook (there is also a section on Vulcan food, but I chose to focus on Spock as he's the main subject we're talking about):

And here are the Spock/TOS specific recipes from the 1999 cookbook:

I'm yet to read/obtain the 2022 trek cookbook, but based on what I could find online, the plomeek soup recipe in this version also contains animal product (greek yogurt/creme fraiche) in order to create the opaque effect seen on screen.

In all, based on these recipes/interpretations of the food we do see in TOS, I'd say that Spock is more likely vegetarian than vegan.

However! Spock could still be vegan if you wanted him to be- it all depends of whether you consider replicated/synthesised animal products as true 'animal products'. As they are synthesised, they have never interacted or come from the animal in question, and only take on the form and taste/nutritional value of the product. So ig it mainly comes down to your own personal opinion of this- Would synthesised milk, that tastes and has an identical composition as non-synthesised milk, but has not come from a cow, be vegan? Personally, I'd lean to think they don't really count in the same way a veggie/meat-alternative sausage isn't *really* a sausage, more an imitation of varying degrees of success (where in this scenario, a synthesised/replicated sausage would be a very successful imitation as it's near identical).

Although that said- due to the synthesised food being practically identical down to the molecule, I'd doubt many vegetarians or vegans who are so because they dislike meat/animal products (instead or in addition of the ethical consideration) would want to eat it.

Additionally, while the recipes above mention animal products in the ingredients, they are frequently items that have vegan alternatives- while the usual version may contain the animal product, if Spock was vegan by choice, he could also substitute these for his personal food/replicator cards.

It's a bit of a long response, but I hope I managed to answer your question!

#star trek #tos #star trek food #vulcan food #spock #star trek meta #mouse rambles #mouse answers #long post

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everybodyshusband · 9 months

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you wrote a headcanon list a little bit ago about rain using crutches while regressed. i would absolutely love if you would either expand on that or write something with that happening (feel free to take your time with this! your regression fics are just very comforting to me and i really enjoy them, i am just very interested in this idea)

eek, okay !!! thank you enabling me in my regressed rain ramblings, dearest anon <3 i'm going to write out a few headcanons for you, because i've got a few other asks requesting a little rain with crutches ficlet ! so eventually, a ficlet about this will appear as well :)

i'd like to start off with a disclaimer that i am not a crutches user, so if any of this information is wrong or comes off in a way i don't intend it to, i'm sorry. please feel free to correct me, though !! i want to learn !!

my personal headcanons for rain are all over the place, haha !! but for the purposes of answering this lovely little ask, i'm going to use he/they pronouns for rain and i'm imagining them as being hypermobile :D i mentioned some of the not-so-specific specifics in the headcanon post you're referring to, but let's recap, shall we ?

when they're regressed, rain tends to have a slightly altered gait. he walks with his feet turned/rolled inwards which puts more pressure on his knees than usual, and sometimes this can lead to him being in more pain when he's regressed than when he isn't. while he does use crutches when he isn't regressed, he tends to need them more when he's small, so it's important that they have a set of crutches to use specifically when they're regressed !

and as for my actual crutch headcanons:

i like to imagine that the forearm crutches rain uses while they're regressed have a thicker grip, which helps to keep them feeling small when they use them. otherwise, his hands feel too big against the handle and it pushes him out of his regressed headspace too quickly

they decorate their crutches with stickers, they made sure to concentrate very hard in order to get the sticker placement just right !! the body of his crutches are covered in a monumental amount of stickers. they're mostly his own dinosaur stickers from sticker sheets that swiss has given him, but dew and swiss chipped in a few flame ones that go up the length of the crutches, sunshine and aether gave him lots of small and brightly coloured stars. there's also a few little clouds (and raindrops, which make rain giggle every time he spots a new one because, well, rain) dotted about here and there from cirrus and cumulus, and mountain managed to find a couple of succulent stickers with little faces too !!

sometimes he ties ribbons to his crutches (read: he gets aether to do it for him) for a bit of extra flair, but they don't have the ribbons on all the time because depending on what they're doing that day, sometimes the ribbons get in the way

once he got so enthralled by the ribbons that they didn't look where they were going and fell over. he hurt himself quite badly, so the others cracked down some pretty intense ribbon-usage rules after that

now that they have a pair of decorated crutches to use when they're regressed, rain is more inclined to ask for them when he needs a helping hand to walk around. although, he's not immune to forgetting he needs them and being reprimanded by mountain for walking all the way down to the greenhouse without their mobility aids

i think that's about it for now :0 but i'm sure more thoughts will come to me at some stage, so if that happens i'll add onto the post in reblogs :) thank you for indulging me with this ask, lovely anon <3 i'm sorry for hoarding it for so long !!

#ask box #husband headcanons #regressed ghouls #rain ghoul #nameless ghouls #the band ghost

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script-a-world · 4 months

Text

Submitted via Google Form:

My world's main agriculture is farming but I'm wondering if that's truly viable in terrain that's not ideal for growing stuff. Though I am certainly having the world be advanced enough to have greenhouses and so on but nothing too fancy other than some rudimentary GMO. With greenhouses, I assume the majority of land could possibly be used - including desert/polar regions. Just as long as they can transport all their needed supplies.

Ebonwing: If so much of your terrain is unsuited to farming that they’d have to build greenhouses everywhere, why would the main agriculture be farming? In areas where farming crops isn’t feasible, people have traditionally found other ways of feeding themselves, often by having animal herds and maintaining diets based on meat and dairy.

Tex: Arable land depends on soil fertility. While it’s true that this is climate-dependent, there are, for example, plants that grow in both the Arctic and the desert. There is currently an interest in some farmers adopting no-till farming due to more research being conducted on soil microbiology (Nature portfolio).

Successful agriculture is heavily dependent upon the health of the soil and the greater biome. Greenhouses are a popular concept for alleviated perceived issues with the production of crops, but also have issues with decreased microbial diversity, something that plants need in order to be healthy (Legein et al.). Accordingly, this microbial diversity has a perceptible impact on human health (PDF Samiran & van der Heijden).

Genetic engineering is a new field and has only recently been involved in agriculture, with selective breeding of animals and plants the predominant method of cultivating desired characteristics the typical preference of farmers, when they have not opted for domestication.

What are your world’s main goals for agricultural production? How many people are they feeding, how many animals are they feeding, and what is the general density of these populations? What does an ideal diet look like? Is the food mostly equivalent in quality and accessibility across all social strata, or are there visible disparities? What are their major obstacles in reaching these goals? Agriculture does have a side effect on the environment, particularly with the use of tilling and chemical applications - the natural biome is altered, and sometimes permanently. When over-used and improperly maintained, it can create inhospitable environments (Wikipedia).

Further Reading

Lee, Sang-Moo, et al. "Disruption of Firmicutes and Actinobacteria abundance in tomato rhizosphere causes the incidence of bacterial wilt disease." The ISME journal 15.1 (2021): 330-347.

PDF Chen, Tao, et al. "A plant genetic network for preventing dysbiosis in the phyllosphere." Nature 580.7805 (2020): 653-657.

PDF Gu, Shaohua, et al. "Competition for iron drives phytopathogen control by natural rhizosphere microbiomes." Nature Microbiology 5.8 (2020): 1002-1010.

PDF Wolinska, Katarzyna W., et al. "Tryptophan metabolism and bacterial commensals prevent fungal dysbiosis in Arabidopsis roots." Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences 118.49 (2021): e2111521118.

PDF Wei, Zhong, et al. "Initial soil microbiome composition and functioning predetermine future plant health." Science advances 5.9 (2019): eaaw0759.

Licorice: “Agriculture” derives from the Latin for “cultivation of fields”; “ager” is a field, and an ”agricola” is a farmer. So agriculture = farming. Agriculture is defined as “the practice or work of farming” by the Cambridge Online Dictionary; other dictionaries give a similar definition.

The first time I read your query, I thought you meant your world was one where little or none of the terrain was suitable for growing stuff. However, on a second reading, it seems your question is more along the lines of “how do the inhabitants of marginal land produce their food”? If that’s the case, then it sounds to me as if your world is a lot like Earth.

Human beings have settled in just about every environment on earth, adapting their lifestyles and diets to the local conditions. Some regions of earth have traditionally produced an abundance of food and been well suited to farming; others have not, and in those cases the indigenous people have generally relied on hunting and gathering for their food. Some places, like the Welsh Hills or the slopes of the Alps, are more suited to animal husbandry than to the cultivation of crops. And, of course, there was a time when the different regions and human societies of Earth each had their own unique food crops.

There’s been a lot of interest in greenhouse farming in the Arctic, but as far as I know it remains small-scale and somewhat experimental. That could change.

https://www.arcticwwf.org/the-circle/stories/bringing-leafy-greens-to-northern-sweden/

And of course the inhabitants of your world will be trading with each other. Regions that produce a lot of fish will salt it and trade it with regions that produce a lot of wine or spices. Tea can be exchanged for gold. Maybe potatoes are abundant but wheat is a luxury? And so on; it’s up to you to decide what your world’s most precious food commodities are..

#google submitted #agriculture #farming

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idv-news-boi · 5 months

Text

Interviewing Fallen Stars~ [Act 1]

Ft. @idv-ask-the-showman (this has been proofread.)

Note// This is content in means to feature residents that are active in Olectus Manor :)

____

{At Laurence's Studios}

Laurence// Good morning, fellas!!! *cheers and music can be heard in the bg* Today is a new beginning once again! I'm Laurence Godfrey, your local reporter of Oletus Times!

Laurence// Welcome to "Interviewing Fallen Stars!" Show~ ✨️🎉

Laurence// The honored guest for this month is going to be....

Phineas// HEYYYYYYY!!! >:DD 🎉✨️<- {Phineas Smith, the Bitterfly Showman} *kicks the box that has been hiding him out of the way */ih

Laurence// Alright, my friend! Feel yourself at home. :)

Phineas// Oh yes, I really feel like I'm still sitting on my couch- *leans back on the guest armchair dramatically* But of course... THERE IS NO OTHER PLACE LIKE HOME~~ (n3n)✨️

Laurence// Well said, my man! And well, how are you doing?

Phineas// I'm doing wonderful...! Fantastic! supercalifragilisticexpialidocious~!!!

Laurence// I love your spirit! Well, here are some questions some people may like to know about you... Would it be alright if I address each of them? ^^✨️

Phineas// OH-✨️ That’s perfectly great! Hit me up, I'll do all my best to answer them all. >:)

Laurence// Excellent, and no worries! We have all day. B))✨️

...

What's the inspiration that created his circus? Like even the origin of its name?

“oh! MANY generations ago, my ancestors were poor and hardly had a penny to their name. But there were a pair of twins, a girl and a boy, who were skilled with some card tricks and dances. They put their skills into use after seeing how their parents struggle to meet their needs. They would always go at night to the public gardens and perform there underneath the moonlight for a living, surprisingly catching ppl’s attention...."

"They would talk about the beautiful girl who dance among the butterflies of the garden and the boy with the beautiful blue gem like eyes and charming smile, shocking everyone with his card tricks. By how much attention they had gotten, they earned a lot of money and managed to save their family from dying from hunger..."

"They didn’t stop after that though, and instead continued it and invited the rest of their family to join in, they decided they would open a circus (aka the Butterfly of the Blue Moon) and travel the world to not only for their needs, but also spread the joy and happiness they also feel~”

What regions did the circus used to travel in Europe?

“The circus normally stays in one place for a whole year before moving to another. It was at first limited around Europe and mostly Germany yet we managed to expand the horizons at the end! Later on, we started to go to other nations as well as we could while recruiting more people along the way. That is how our circus has many people from multiple backgrounds!”

What should the audience know you as? Either by name or occupation

“I do not mind what my beloved audience calls me, as long as it is not disrespectful!! Normally, I would like to have a closer bond with them, and if they just call me by my name!”

What does the circus offer for one's entertainment and delight?

“The Circus offers all kinds of entertainment that has never seen before! We proud ourselves by our unlimited imagination and how far we are willing to go just to draw a happy smile on everyone faces~ There is a reason why it was ranked #1 after all, so it's worth to come and see it yourself~! hehehe.”

When do performances usually start?

“hmm~ it depends, but normally we start the main shows around nighttime when the moon is high in the sky! But there would still be mini shows that start around daytime.”

Are there any times or days where you can contact Phineas for questions?

“You can hang out with me around the afternoon, where I normally be in the greenhouse and enjoy my afternoon tea time break!”

What's with the theme about butterflies from his performances?

“The butterflies were always around when the twins were performing, giving how the garden was full of them, so it became a tradition in the circus to always have butterflies fly as the crest. They fly around freely, and we make sure they are treated well. There are times you can find the butterflies roaming around, or even having the performers wear butterfly themed outfits!”

What do you like and dislike?

“I dislike heats and close tied places… it brings bad memories… I especially also dislike it when someone talk about my own death without me allowing them to. As for what I like~… hmm~ MAN, there is a lot! But you can say one of them is enjoying some theatre shows and hanging out with my friends!”

Favorite holiday? Favorite food?

"I like Christmas! The nice cold wind and the beautiful atmosphere you get when hanging out with your family, ahh~ such a priceless feeling!” “As for the food, it would be none-sugar apple pie! My nanny used to make it a lot of times for me!”

What are your thoughts when receiving gifts from fans or admirers?

“oh~ the sheer joy and happiness I get when I receive a gift from my beloved fans is just over the moon!! I would even start feeling bad since I wouldn’t have something to return the favour, so I tend to either invite them for a small mini tea party or I go out of my way to get them something, hahah!”

...

Laurence// Well, these are all the questions for you so far! Everyone, if there are any more things you want to ask to Phineas. Let him know!

Phineas// YESSS! I’m always at the certain butterfly trailer door if anyone needs me- you might find it easily, it's not so far from Laurence's door after all~!

Laurence// Thank you so much for coming over, Phineas! Want a cup of lemon tea? :DD

Phineas// Don't mention it! And you don't bother to offer... I'm already drinking from the jug~ ^^ *sipping from a huge cup of tea *

Laurence// *notices that his jug of tea in his hand is now empty* Huh...??? Oh, Oh well,,,,;;; 🤣😅

THE END

#reblog// breaking news #// phineas smith #idv writing

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gottagho-st · 5 months

Text

it’s currently like 30ish degrees (celsius) but also storming which is Not Fun for the asthma, but it also got me thinking about the ghouls and weather which seems like a great way to distract myself from the humid misery i’m living rn lmfao

i know plenty of people have spoken about that kinda thing before but i wanted to add my thoughts :))

Only a couple of ghouls under the cut - I will probably add to this as I think of more ideas 🫶🦇

Mountain 🏔️

He’s an earth ghoul so as expected, he loves the changes that come with the transition from winter to spring. The way he can sit immersed in nature and feel the earth around him breathe back to life, the plants awakening from their slumber. Everything about spring is beautiful to him, that includes the endless days of rain and sunshine battling for dominance, even when he wishes the rain would cease to enjoy the warmth of the sun - he knows his plants need it.

I also think that he would sort of respect the opposite transition of the seasons, at the end of summer - once the time for harvest has come to a close - and the earth is preparing itself for the hardships of the winter. Autumn is quietly probably his favourite season of all, the beauty of his plants knowing that they must die back so that they may have the opportunity to flourish when the time is right again. He could spend quiet hours in the greenhouses, revelling in the shelter they provide whilst he is still immersed in the crisp air of fall, bundled against cool gusts of wind. he would prepare all of his ‘drama-queen’ plants with such tender care, how could he not adore this time of year?

Dewdrop 🔥

Depends on his mood - when he was still water it was always the sunniest, hottest days that he found himself looking forward to, simply because it meant an opportunity to not only immerse himself in his element to cool off, but the rest of the pack tended to join him down at the lake when it was hot enough. He loved to be there with his family and his element all rolled into one!

Once he transitioned, he started to resent heat more - he could never escape it now, and the cool waters of the lake that once were comforting now seem to make his skin crawl. So when he’s most comforted as a fire ghoul is long wintery nights, after a slight dusting of snow. Those are the evenings where he feels the most valuable, providing his pack with warmth and love whilst they huddle together. However, if he is already vulnerable, the snow is simply too much for him to handle, the way he once could walk out and feel in kiss his skin if he so wished, ripped away after the transition. Icy particles long turned to steam before they reach his body. At these times, what he craves most his a gentle evening breeze, the kind at the end of summer, where he feels most at peace with the flames flowing through his veins.

Cirrus 🌪️

She is of course very attuned to the air itself, the atmosphere and its behaviour influences her very soul. However, Cirrus was born of the tempestuous winds of the Pit, so while she is enthralled by the gentlest of gusts rolling in over the lake, her body and heart and soul sing at the first signs of a storm on the horizon.

Her favourites are those with less rain - although hail and sometimes even snow make the phenomenon even more interesting to her. Simple storms that whip her hair from its braids with the power of their winds, when she can taste the electricity in the air before every devastatingly beautiful strike of lightning, with the rumble of thunder overhead, those are the ones that she cherishes most. It’s even better in the evenings, just after the sun has sunk into the earth, when she can sit just beyond the abbey’s doors and immerse herself in her element.

Aurora 🌌

The pack all expected her to be the type of ghoul to enjoy the picture-perfect ‘just warm enough’ spring days, and she does cherish those, for they are when she gets to spend precious time with her family, all of them drawn outside to help mountain with whichever project is most pressing at the time. However, she has come to realise over her time topside, that she sees herself in the heaviest of rains, when torrents come pouring from above, soaking the earth and everything on it, blocking the blue of the sky with only grey. Her heart yearns for the days throughout autumn where it is not yet cold enough for snow, and she can relish in the steady beat provided by water cascading over the grounds laid out around the abbey.

She doesn’t simply watch and listen though. No, Aurora is always able to be found out in the grassy fields by the greenhouses, dancing in the downpour - a ritual of worship to the Lord below for providing her the freedom to experience the changes in climate topside. Originating from a perpetually parched, dry desert within the pit, her heart swells at the opportunity to become drenched by nature itself.

#the band ghost #nameless ghouls #nameless ghoul headcanons #spooks ramblin’#spooks hcs #ghost band #mountain ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #cirrus ghoulette #aurora ghoulette

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acti-veg · 11 months

Note

new to going plant based and just need some ideas on how to reply to some comments I have gotten to try and make me change my mind;

"Do you think all these cows will just suddenly disappear if we all go vegan? Where will they go if we stop eating them? There will be so many with no place to go in the wild because they're farm animals only" I think they were implying if we do not farm the animals, they'll take over and be too many with nowhere to go, so we must eat them to keep a balance :/

"Your plant based stuff causes more issues for climate change than eating beef." I.e ; people saying that the means to ship plant based stuff to other countries and such causes more emissions than meat.

And the "But biology says we are omnivores." I get these comments and do not know how to reply to defend my side of things, because people tend to think their side is a total fact and I am confused

Good to hear that the classics are still doing the rounds... Haven't heard that first one in a couple of years. I have a page with lots of the most popular anti-vegan arguments and their responses - you can find that here. That completely covers your first point here but I'll expand on the others.

The second point is easy to deal with since it's just objectively false. The idea that local food is environmentally better is mostly a myth, transport accounts for very little of total emissions, and what you eat matters far more than where it is from. I'll share a good quote from environmental activist and journalist George Monbiot, as that might function as a snappy response for you to paraphrase:

Another mistaken belief is that the best way to cut greenhouse gases is to eat food that is locally grown. There might be good social and cultural reasons to buy local food. Local markets might help to enhance the food system market modularity and resilience. But there are seldom good climate reasons. This is because the greenhouse gases emitted by moving food are tiny by comparison to those emitted by growing it.

For example, if you buy pasture-fed beef or lamb, the contribution of transport to its total climate costs, depending on where it comes from, is likely to be between 0.5 and 2 per cent. Raising the meat accounts for roughly 95 per cent of its emissions (the rest are caused by processing, packing, storing and displaying it). You would have to ship a kilo of dried peas roughly one hundred times around the world before it’s greenhouse gases matched those of a kilo of local beef.

If you're looking for sources on comparative impact, this one deals with the 'local food is better' claim; it's an independent source that cites their data. I have plenty of other sources and reference materials in my source bank here.

As for the final point, omnivore is literally just a species categorisation - it refers to an animal who is capable of deriving nutrients from both plants and animal matter. It has absolutely no relevance when we're trying to discuss how we should behave towards animals, how we should treat our planet or how ethical it is to eat animals. It's an appeal to nature which is a fallacy - I've expanded on that one here.

#ask #vegan #anti-vegan arguments

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alder-saan · 1 year

Text

The Path of Poisons .5

Sweet Brier

Larissa Weems x Gn! Oc

the Path of Poisons masterlist . [01] . [02] . [03] . [04] . [05] . [06] . [07] . [08] . [09]

words count: 1.2k

WARNING: I'm translating this from French to English. As it takes sooooo much time to do it myself, I use an automatic translator. BUT neutral doesn't exist in French so even if I proofread to change every "he/him/his" or "she/her/hers" in "they/them/their" I might miss some.

"Yeah, hello Thalia?"

*Rei ? Are you ok?*

"Yes, yes."

They switched the phone to her ear and jammed it with their shoulder so they could do their nails properly, sitting at the small table in their tiny greenhouse. At the other end of the receiver, they could hear Thalia tinkering.

"Say, I'm calling about your proposal to advise me to Mrs. Weems."

*Yeah? Have you thought about it?*

"Mostly I asked if the florist needed people and she said no, so well…"

*perfect, I'll plead your case*

"You don't tell her who I am, you just say I have degrees in botany, which is true. No mention of the book, no mention of ANYTHING that would allow him to identify me."

*okay boss!*

"So, how are things with Elizabeth?"

*Pretty good.*

"I'd like to meet her one day!"

*If you become a teacher, you'll meet her. Ouch, shit!*

"Are you okay?"

*Yeah, yeah, I pricked myself with a tooth from my saw.*

Rei chuckled and then made a face, they had a little overflow with their black varnish.

"What are you doing?"

*I'm making a birdhouse.*

"It's a little late, you know?"

*It will be useful for next year.*

"Especially for the wasps…"

*Well, it's gonna be a wasp house.*

"Be careful, 200 stings are deadly."

*who gets stung 200 times?*

"I don't know..."

*Well, I'll leave you to it, and submit it to your new crush right away.

"Stop calling her that."

*Don't act like she doesn't do anything to you. What did you say last time? "Why does she have to be so beautiful?"*

"Yeah, okay, I think she looks pretty good. But that doesn't mean she's my crush!"

*Yeah, for sure. Ciao.*

"Ciao"

And Thalia hung up. Rei tried to slide her phone along their arm. They couldn't touch it with their hands, because of the nail polish that wasn't dry. They waved their hands a little to dry it and then went back to their little house. They wanted to buy some flowers. They put on their jacket, their shoes, and then got on their bike. The city was not far from the land they had inherited, and from the little house that was on it.

After about 15 minutes of pedaling, they arrived in the city center. They hung their bike on a fence and walked through town to the florist. They stood for a while and looked at all the plants on all sides. The urge to buy everything on the spot was growing inside them. They looked for the flowers they liked best to put in a bouquet in ther house. Sweet brier. It's nice, it's pretty. They asked the florist for a big bouquet and she went to prepare it.

The door opened. It was Larissa, in her perfect updo, perfect dress and perfect make up. Rei tried not to stare.

"G… Good morning, Mrs. Weems."

"Oh, please, call me Larissa. May I call you Raine?"

"Of course you can."

Apparently, Thalia hadn't told her yet about the job. Good.

"Do you know anything about flowers, Raine?"

"Me?"

"Yes, you. There are so many choices, I could use some advice."

"Well it depends on the occasion, is it for someone? Is it just to look nice in your living room? If it's a gift, who do you want to give it to? A relative? A friend? A lover? And then if it's for you, it depends on where you want to put it, and what that place looks like."

Larissa thought for a while. She hadn't anticipated all these questions.

"Well… I'm not sure. It was to put in my office at Nevermore. I like a little color."

"So you can match your office colors, or your colors…. Red roses would go great with the color of your lip ink."

Larissa blushed. Was Raine flirting with her?

"Oh, I see… But red roses are really meaningful… Isn't there something a little more… Neutral? Understand, I don't want everyone to start speculating about a fictitious lover."

"You're single!"

That wasn't a question. It was an observation, and amazement. Maybe a little hope, too.

"Uh… yes. Is that a problem?"

"What? No! I just… I just thought that a woman like you couldn't be single."

"What's a woman like me?" Larissa laughed a little. "And why is that?"

"I thought all the most beautiful women were already in a relationship."

They smiled at her. Larissa looked away, trying to hide her pink cheeks. She coughed.

"So, what do you recommend?"

"In that case, I think primroses would be great. You can choose the color."

"Renewal, huh?"

"Absolutely."

She smiles at Rei.

"Can I buy you a coffee?"

"I'd really like to, but I'm busy, I have to go home. It wasn't sensible to come to this store, I could spend all day here."

They headed for the counter when the florist notified her that her bouquet was finished. Larissa's smile disappeared when she saw the bouquet of sweet briers.

"Nice to see you again, Larissa Weems."

"Yes, thank you again."

Rei left, and put the bouquet of flowers in the little basket they had on the back of their bike. They were a little embarrassed that Larissa had seen the flowers… She might wonder.

Sweet briers, huh? Did they mean to give them to someone? Maybe it was nothing? Or was she mistaken? She had to check the meaning of the rosehip. She pulled out her phone as Thalia's number came up. Larissa picked up immediately.

"Hello, Thalia?"

*Hello, Larissa. I'm calling because I have a new candidate for the botany teacher position.*

"Who is it?"

*Raine. They've studied botany extensively. They don't know much about teaching but I can teach them. To be honest, they're going to run out of money soon and are desperate for a job, so I told them I'd plead their case with you.*

"Uh… Yes, we'll think about it, tell them to make a form, you will bring it to our next meeting."

*no problem, thank you very much.*

Don't forget to tell them to apply for housing if they want to sleep on the academy. And if they want to live there with someone else, they should specify that.

*They has a house, I think it will not be useful*

"Have a nice day"

*You too*

Larissa hung up the phone, a little annoyed. She had tried to get information about Raine's potential relationship status, but it hadn't worked… But who buys a house to live alone? Oh well, too bad. If Raine wasn't single, she wasn't going to make a big deal of it either.

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nemo-of-house-hamartia · 2 years

Text

Word Counts: 5036

Warnings: None

SFW, Fluff

Pairing: JacobxDottie

8th May 1869,

London

“I should have never agreed to this,” Dorothea thought, pacing back and forth with nervous steps. She glanced nervously at the gargantuan bell behind her, and she gulped, feeling an uneasiness stir within her.

Of all the places in London to meet, he had suggested Big Ben.

The Clock Tower.

That was the most peculiar place to give an appointment to see a friend, if she had ever heard about any. And yet, even in the idiosyncrasy of that idea, she had found herself eager to comply with it.

When she had found his letter, hidden away in a small cavity underneath the orange tree in her mother’s greenhouse, and after she had read his proposition, she had found herself unable to contain her joy or refuse his request.

Her constant grinning hadn’t gone unnoticed by her mother and father’s ever-inquisitive gazes, but they had seemed to believe her when she had told them that they were caused by the arrival of summer and the imminent beginning of The Season.

For a moment, Dorothea took the letter out of the pocket of her own gown, and the same sweet smile that had accompanied her all the previous days appeared again. She dared to scour through the words once again, although she didn’t truly need that. She had read it so many times, that she could recite it by heart.

Dear Miss Goldilocks,

As no opportunity has presented itself at speaking to you lately alone, I venture to address you by letter, and I assure you my happiness greatly depends on the reply with which you may deign to favor me. So many days have passed since we last had the pleasure of a few moments of conversation together. May I ask for your presence on the top of Big Ben, on the evening of the 8th of May, at 11.30? I am well aware that the timing might seem peculiar, but much like our epistolary exchange, it is better if this particular encounter is to happen under the protection of the darkness. Enclosed to this message of mine, I took the liberty to send you one of your favourite flowers, a lily, like the one you had embroidered on your lapels the day we met. Wear it for me, if it pleases you. It would certainly make me happy.

Ever, Dear Goldilocks,

Your True Friend,J.F.

Dorothea felt her cheeks prickle as blood rushed to them. Even now, she could see him leaning over his desk, sleeves all rolled up, suspenders gracefully hanging from his hips, as he wrote that letter under the yellow light of an oil lamp.

She loved the way his calligraphy was so neat and round, so vastly different from her own, and yet so beautiful to behold. It had become a familiar and rather welcomed sight, after the egregious number of letters the two of them had exchanged in the past year, one she always found herself waiting for most eagerly.

All of sudden, she heard the cawing of a crow in the distance, almost a sign to come back to reality.

Once more ever since she had arrived on top of the Clock Tower, Dorothea took her timepiece out of her pocket, a refined watch of exquisite manufacture - a gift her cousin Charlie himself had made for her - and checked the time.

It was close to midnight.

Unable to stand still, she moved close to the parapet, and scoured the city beneath, hoping to see him somewhere, but failing. The few souls still awake at the time of night were as small as ants, from where she was standing.

He had given her an appointment at 11.30, but because Dorothea could never forgive herself, had she been late, she had arrived at 11 and climbed countless flights of stairs until she had reached the top, breathless but with time to spare.

But now, her disquiet was increasingly growing with each ticking of her timepiece.

Raising her eyes toward the endless vault of the sky, she soon found her stars, the familiar comfort of her own childhood in Dover, and smiled with fondness.

She had always been grateful to Byron for teaching her how to read the sky and to look up toward the vast blue, whenever she felt in doubt.

It always managed to make her feel less alone, somehow.

Unable to stand still, Dorothea moved to the other side of the tower, the one that faced the Thames.

Her eyes could see all of the city even through the haze of the nocturnal mist, and they trailed toward the borough of Lambeth, where the Asylum was.

A cold shiver ran up her spine, engulfing her whole body, a shudder so sudden she couldn’t really explain.

There was something about the whole borough that always gave her the chills.

“It must be the cold.” she thought, turning back once more, tightening her wool capelet around her shoulders, and moving once more toward the side of the tower that faced the borough of Westminster, where her house was located.

She tried to find it through the mist, but despite remembering the general direction, she couldn’t truly make out the exact position.

For a moment, Dorothea thought about what her gentle mother and kind father would think of her and her behaviour, their dutiful daughter sneaking out the house past the hour that was proper for a lady to be out, completely unchaperoned, and meeting with what her cousin Phillip would consider “a miscreant of no station good for nothing”.

Only, Jacob wasn’t a miscreant, nor he was a “good for nothing”.

He had a kindness that she had rarely experienced in those that were of higher station, a wit that he often masked with quite an impertinent yet endearing humor, and a heart as big and warm as the Sun that each day rose from the east and set in the west.

It was true, she felt the guilt for sneaking out of the house without her parents' consent; it was gnawing at her stomach.

But, she mused, as determination grew in her chest, she couldn't deny her heart's desire one day more.

Dorothea wanted to see him again. She wanted to hear his laugh, to see his twinkling eyes and his mischievous smile, to feel his solid presence close to her, like all the times they have walked together around London, in one of the city’s parks.

She bit her lip, blushing, as her thoughts flew to the way his hand would always touch the brim of his hat whenever he greeted her or the way he would adjust his hair if said hat would happen to be caught by the wind and fly away.

What she would give to be able to feel those big hands folding around hers, she thought with a sigh, as she blushed some more.

Dorothea dared to look down the parapet one more time, hoping to see any sign of him, as her anticipation started to slowly make way to barely concealed disillusionment.

“Maybe…maybe tonight it was not meant to be,” she thought to herself, wringing her hands when she saw nothing, her shoulders slumping down.

She took her timepiece again.

Only five minutes until midnight. Already twenty-five minutes past the agreed time.

She sighed, a fire of disappointment flaring up in her stomach.

Squaring her shoulders and holding her chin high, composing herself with all the dignity she was capable of, she walked toward the manhole whence she had come from, ready to go back to the safety of her home’s wall.

She felt tears pooling in her eyes, but with a quick gesture of her hand, she dried them away before they had the chance to find a way on her cheeks.

She would not allow herself to cry at something like that.

Not until she was safe and sound in the privacy of her rooms, away from prying eyes.

As she knelt to open the manhole, she heard the sound of rustling clothes and breathless pants.

Dorothea turned her face and her eyes widened when she saw a man climb over the balustrade with apparent no effort, landing with a loud thump on the floor, his face covered by a dark hood.

She barely contained the smile that erupted on her lips, relief fluttering in her chest like a bird taking flight.

She would recognize that hood everywhere.

“Mr. Frye!” she squealed, her voice a miscellany of surprise and relief. “You are finally here!”

“Sorry for the delay, Goldilocks,” he mumbled as he brushed his pants and coat. With a quick gesture of his hand, he lowered the hood of his coat and took out a foldable top hat, that he wore on the top of his dark hair. “Trouble was a-foot in the neighbourhood, and I had to take care of things. It took me longer than I wanted to,”

Dorothea felt her cheeks prickle under the beautiful smile he gave her, but her brows knitted, as her eyes carefully scoured his face, looking for possible wounds.

“Trouble in the neighbourhood? Are…are you alright? You aren’t hurt, I dare hope and pray?” she asked, forcing her trembling hand to stand by her side, even though all she wanted was to caress his cheek to make sure that he had no wound or ailments of any sort.

Jacob gave his trousers one last loud pat, raising a small cloud of dark dust that looked suspiciously like gunpowder.

“You needn’t worry, Goldilocks, I’ve never been…better,” he murmured before his breath caught in his throat once he met her eyes, silver meeting hazel.

He felt a surge of electricity coursing through his entire being as he let his gaze wander all over her figure, completely enveloped in those cumbersome gowns she always wore. It had been so long since he had last seen her, that the memory he had of her didn’t give her any justice to how comely she actually was.

For a moment, he forgot to breathe, as he dared to look at her openly, his heart in his throat throbbing with each beat of it.

He hadn’t lied.

Troubles had been brewing in Whitechapel for a good while, and he had to take care of it, lest he was to be subjected to another one of Evie’s reprimands if the situation were to get out of control.

But the truth was that his delay hadn’t been caused just by a brawl with a bunch of drunk Blighters.

He was late because he had to work up his nerves at the prospect of meeting her once again.

This time, completely alone and away from prying eyes.

It was one thing to go into the ring and fight against the brutes Topping sent against him each night; and for that, he had courage aplenty.

Meeting the woman that had been his only recurring thoughts in the last year, on the other hand, had taken another kind of courage altogether, one he wasn’t sure he possessed.

And yet, here he was, standing closer than ever to his Goldilocks and with his silver tongue having forsaken him.

Dorothea stared at him, embarrassed by that silence that had suddenly fallen upon them.

“You-you looked rather…distinguished, tonight, Mr. Frye,” she said, clearing her throat as she looked at the exquisite embroidery of his coat. Daring to be as bold as she had ever been, she brought one gloved hand toward the metallic shoulder pauldron, where the resemblance of a bird’s skull was etched in the metal. She took the gloves off, and caressed the bird with a featherlight touch, letting her fingers dance against the cool, smooth metallic surface.

Jacob looked with the corner of his eyes, and swallowed the lump in his throat, drowning the wish he had to have her fingers caress him instead.

“This pauldron is truly peculiar, but it complements your outfit and yourself, Mr. Frye, “ she murmured, taking a step closer to admire the details.

Jacob grinned at her words, opening his arms and making the scarlet cape that hang from his shoulder fly backward.

“Just a little somethin’ I found by chance close to Saint Paul,” he chuckled, tipping his hat a little higher on his brow, his eyes twinkling with that mischievous light that made Dorothea’s heart melt on the spot. “I thought it’d be appropriate for meeting you, tonight, of all nights.”

Dorothea blushed, suddenly very aware of how little the distance between the two of them was, and despite herself, she took a step back.

“How-How thoughtful of you!” she said, quickly wearing her glove once more, as she started to look around to dissipate her embarrassment. Her eyes fell on the metallic surface of the bells behind them and she froze, suddenly extremely aware of what would happen soon enough.

“We need to hurry, though,” she said, glancing nervously at the bells behind them. “ Once the bells start ringing at the stroke of the hour, we will certainly be deafened,”

Jacob crossed his arms against his chest, giving her a crooked smile, his eyes beaming with devilishness, as if he was aware of a secret she didn’t partake in.

“You don’t need to worry, Goldilocks,” he lowered her voice, winking at her. “ I took care of them.”

Dorothea stood silent for a brief second, her big eyes now glancing at him with curiosity.

“Does that mean our dear Big Ben will never sing his tune again?” she teased, now her turn to grace him with her crooked, impish smile.

“What? No!” he fumbled, blushing to the tip of his nose. “I...A friend helped me block the bells. There’ll be no chiming so long we will be here.”

“You would think the dear people of our city will take notice of the missing singing, though.”

“Oh, I think they will be able to go without it, what with them either sleeping or busying themselves in other -ahem- activities, to be sure,” he murmured back with a smile and a wink that made her blush to the tip of her nose.

At the high teas and dinners her mother always organized, she didn’t have any problem socializing and talking with her guests. People often praised her for her sensitive speech and ability in entertaining the gentleladies and gentlemen of the Ton with the greatest variety of subjects.

She smiled and then let the silence fall between the two of them once again.

She felt so embarrassed.

But what to talk about with the man whose eyes she dreamed so often? How to look at him without blushing and letting through how much she had been thinking about him? How to talk with him without letting her love transpire through each sentence, each word, each breath?

She felt all her savoir-faire abandon her, leaving behind a mere husk of awkwardness and a sense of want that she had never experienced in all her life.

“This is such a beautiful night,” she murmured, clearing her voice and approaching the balustrade of concrete, as she looked down and tried to ignore her nervousness, focusing instead on the city below them: London was so quiet at that time of night, so incredibly different from the daily ruckus that inhabited the streets. It was the first time she got to see the city after sundown, and a thrill of excitement run down her spine at the thoughts of experiencing such freedom, far away from the Master Templars always accompanying her everywhere.

She turned to look toward Jacob once more, a big grin tugging at her lips.

“So this is what it's like to be you, Mr. Frye? Free to run around London, to climb up high where only the birds dare to go? Completely unencumbered by the daily routine that instead grip our beautiful city?” She turned once again toward the city, her eyes scouring the roofs, where small puffs of smoke raised from the chimney, contributing to the mist that veiled the horizon.

“You could say that,” Jacob chuckled, casually leaning against the balustrade, closer than he had ever been to her. He felt his arm brush against hers and when he saw her leaning back against him, ever so slightly, he couldn’t help but feel butterflies in his stomach. “Although, I wouldn’t consider myself completely “unencumbered” by responsibilities, at least not as much as I’d like to. If you were to speak with my sister, she might actually suggest you give me a thesaurus to look up the meaning of the word ‘responsibility’,” he scoffed with a roll of his eyes, although a smirk appeared on his lips afterward.

Dorothea chuckled, turning to look at him.

“That’s what sisters are for, I dare presume,” she murmured with a giggle, tapping her hands against the parapet.

“You don’t have any siblings, Goldilocks?” he asked, realizing, at that moment, that he knew so little about her family.

She rarely spoke about them, even in her letters, and he always thought better than asking them directly. But he wanted to know everything about her: every single detail that made her happy or sad, every single memory she had ever held in her heart that had brought her joy or sorrow, longing or desire. She was so diametrically opposite to how he was, and yet, he couldn’t help but find himself intrigued by that young woman that always seemed so proper and reserved, and yet, each time he smiled at her, would blush as if he had given her the moon.

“I don’t,” she answered with sobriety. “I am the only child my father and mother have. But I do have two cousins that I grow up with, and that I consider like brothers, and I suspect that one of them-” she said, thinking about Phillip’s pompous, buttoned-up expression.”-would truly give your sister a run for her money, as the people say,”

“That’s somethin’ I’d love to see,” he chuckled, leaning just a little bit closer to her, moving a wayward lock of pale hair away from her fair brow. His fingers caressed her skin, barely touching, so delicate in their trail, yet Dorothea felt a jolt of electricity run through her whole being at that small contact, and once more she felt her whole chest, neck, and cheeks prickle while blood came rushing to her head. She didn’t break that contact. She would never break that contact if it meant being close to him.

“J-Judging by how easily you have climbed up here, with that sort of harpoon you have at your wrist, I imagine that it wasn’t the first time you did it,” she mumbled, trying to regain her natural composure and hoping with all her might he couldn’t see her face burning.

But despite her efforts, Jacob could see her, could feel the pull he had toward her and the one she had toward him, and that made him hopeful that the night would go as he had envisioned.

“Nor it will be the last time, I assure you, Goldilocks, if it means meeting you alone again,” he dared say.

She turned to look at him, her eyes blinking in surprise.

“So...is this the reason you asked me to come here?” she asked, as she finally found her words again.

He cleared his throat, licking his lips, as he started to feel nervous all of sudden, his heart galloping in his chest.

"A little bird has told me that today was your birthday, Goldilocks," he whispered, reaching for something in his pocket.

Curious, Dorothea looked as he frantically searched for something, until he found it and presented it to her.

When he opened his hand, he had what appeared to be a small jewelry box, exquisitely engraved and hand-painted with a couple of small robin redbreasts, fluttering from one branch of holly to the other, snow softly falling on the green, prickly leaves and brilliant red berries. They were so beautifully etched on the pale case, that Dorothea was sure she could hear them chirping.

She held her breath, bringing a hand to her cheek for the surprise.

It was beyond beautiful.

“This is magnificent,” she babbled, her lips trembling with incredulity. “May I?”

Jacob looked at her, and she saw the softest of light in his eyes, as he looked at her with a gaze that made her feel as if her skin was kissed by the warmth of the sun itself.

“It’s your birthday gift, Goldilocks, you don’t have to ask. But first,” he said, reaching for his neck. He took away a cord where a small key and a silver coin were hanging. "Allow me,"

He reached for the small box and charged it up with a few simple moves. Once he was done, he adorned the pendant around her neck. Dorothea couldn’t stop the small sigh of surprise that left her lips at that gesture.

it wasn’t a jewelry box.

It was a music box.

And the melody that came from it was something she has heard him singing already once before. Something that reminded her of the gentle dance of snowflakes on a cold winter night.

“Jacob-,” she murmured, before stopping herself in her tracks and bringing her hands to her lips. She looked up at him, her cheeks burning, crimson like two ripe apples. “F-Forgive me, Mr. Frye for my impropriety, I must have forgotten myself for a moment, I-I didn’t mean to-”

He let out a sweet chuckle, daring to move another lock of hair away from her face.

“I like it better when you call me Jacob. 'Mr. Frye',” he scoffed, smirking. “Makes me feel like my father, and the heavens forbid that I was ever to end up like him,”

“Well...Jacob,” Dorothea said, her heart thumping in her chest. She felt elated at the prospect of finally being able to utter his name aloud, a name she has whispered against her pillow so many times, before falling asleep at night. “This is the most beautiful gift I could ever hope to receive for my birthday. Thank you.”

For a moment, he stood quietly, looking at her with a catlike grin on his face.

“What is it?” she asked, returning the smile.

He looked up toward the sky and saw that the clouds had cleared. The moon was shining brightly once again.

“May I?” he asked, his lips thinning even more in an even wider grin.

Unsure of what to do, Dorothea smiled back and allowed him to take her hand in his. Her heart sped up when she felt his fingers gently caress her gloved palms, as he delicately found the tip of her gloves and let them slide away, one finger at a time, at a slow, almost sensual pace.

“We won’t be needing these any longer, for what will happen now,” he murmured, his eyes staring into hers for the entire time. “And you needn’t worry: I’ll warm you,if needed,” and before she could say anything, he made her turn and lean against his chest, as he enclosed the small hand holding the music box in his own. Realizing how delicate her hands were without their gloves, especially compared to his, he whispered against her ear. “Forgive me, I’ve rough hands,”

Dorothea sucked a small breath at his words, feeling her heart pounding so strong against her ribcage, she was sure he could feel it too. She had never been that close to a man, in her life. Never.

But oh, how many times she had dreamed of being close to him, safe and sound in his arms.

“I-I wouldn’t want them any other way,” she answered, fighting the impulse - the need -to bring his fingers to her lips and cover them in kisses, as she had wanted to do for so long.

Jacob felt his heart in his throat, his mouth dry when he felt her leaning fully against his figure, daring to be bolder than she had ever dared before. Mindful of his own strength, he wrapped an arm around her waist and kept her steady without constricting her against him, while the one hand cupping hers guided her to hold the music box just above her head, so that the moonlight would meet the small case.

“Look at the box again now, Goldilocks,” he said.

Dottie lowered her eyes and saw what Jacob meant: the moonbeam was hitting some prism inside the lock of the music box, and projected a shape on the floor.

“That’s-That’s the Ursa Minor and it’s so beautiful!” she said, holding her breath. She turned to look at his face, her eyes wide in wonder. “How did you know?”

"Well...do you remember that tea we had taken together, that one time you had called and enquire after me at Henr-Mr. Green’s Shop? You had forgotten a paper there, a poem you had written, and I…I have to admit: I read it. You were wishing for those stars so much, to touch them, to bask in their light...so, for your birthday, I thought about bringing the night sky to you, Goldilocks," he murmured, hoping that his words wouldn’t stumble. She was so close to him, closer than she had ever been before

She held her breath, her small mouth slightly agape in surprise.

"You...you remember my poem?"

He shrugged, smiling. "Maybe,"

He couldn't tell her that he had laid in bed so many nights and read it more times than he cared to remember, imagining her small hand tracing those perfect letters, thinking about her sweet face and gentle eyes as she gazed at the vault of the skies, looking for inspiration.

He couldn’t tell her that he had planned that evening ever since he had discovered when her birthday was, hoping -praying- that the weather would be merciful and the stars would be smiling upon them so that he would be able to bring to her the sky she so much yearned.

He couldn’t tell her that he had dreamed of her smile each night ever since he had finally realized that he was utterly, completely, hopelessly in love with her.

She let out a small sneeze, and Jacob couldn’t help but smile at how endearing she looked when she turned once more, with a shy smile and embarrassed as she was by that small inconvenience.

“My apologies,” she murmured with a smile. “I am afraid I am not used to the damp night air and being out for so lon-”

Before she could finish her sentence, Dorothea felt Jacob encircling both his arms around her waist and gently pulling her backward until she was completely pressed with her back against his chest, only their garments to act as barriers between them.

“I told you, Goldilocks,” he said with a low husked whisper, his lips close to her ear, thinned in a soft smile. “ I will warm you, if needed. I can’t run the risk of having you catch a cold, now, can I?”

For a brief moment, Jacob could feel the sweet, balmy perfume that came from Dorothea’s skin and couldn’t help but wonder: what was that fragrance?

He remembered sensing it even the first time they met...but now that she was in his arms, so close to him, he could feel it so distinctly.

It was her perfume. Hers.

And that proximity to her, after having thought about her for so long, gave him butterflies in his stomach: the way she looked at him, with those eyes gleaming with adoration and warmth...he couldn’t remember the last time someone had looked at him like that.

Almost as if he was the Sun itself.

“Dorothea-” he murmured once more, his breath catching in his throat as he uttered her name.

“Y-yes?” she answered, her heart quickening under the intensity of those hazel eyes she loved more than anything.

“Can.. I- I mean, Would you…Am I allowed to be so bold as to give you another present for your birthday?”

“You have already been so incredibly generous with me, Jacob….What-what more could I ask but the beautiful night you have given me?” she murmured, as she turned to face him entirely.

His eyes, whose hunger he could barely conceal any longer, wandered all over her sweet face, caressing her freckle with her gaze, one by one, running from her fair brow toward her cheeks, until they found her soft lips. He couldn’t help but wonder if they were as soft as they looked.

One of his hands found its way to her cheek, now fully touching, unafraid, cradling her round face with such attentive tenderness, Dorothea felt a whole chasm opening in her stomach at that contact, so incredibly yearned.

Jacob felt his heart thundering in his ears, galloping like a wild horse on a prairie, and before he could stop himself, he brushed her lower lip with his thumb, his eyes boring straight into hers the whole time.

“We-we are committing an impropriety, Jacob…” she said, her voice a sound somewhat between a whisper and a sigh of eagerness.

He leaned closer to her until his lips were a whisper away from hers.

“You cannot even imagine how much you make me want to be improper, Dorothea,”

One heartbeat, suspended between them in a fragment of time.

The blinking of eager, desirous eyes.

A tiny, wanting breath.

And his lips found hers in a kiss that had all the yearning of a wait long endured, a desire withheld for longer than their souls were willing to wait, under the gleaming sky, with the stars as their only witnesses.

They broke their kiss only to catch their breath, as Jacob brought both hands to cradle Dorothea’s face, resting his forehead against hers, as he looked at her with adoring eyes.

“Happy Birthday, love,” he whispered, nuzzling his nose against hers.”A hundred more years of happiness for you,”“May them all be as beautiful as today, Jacob, and may you always be the reason of such joy,” she giggled with the brightest smile, a moment before she felt his lips on hers again and again and again.

Soooo.

I finally managed to finish BOTH the drabbles and the artwork that goes with it, and lemme tell you, I AM EXTREMELY PROUD OF BOTH.

I honestly had in mind to write just a small drabble underneath, something maybe around 400 words or something?

I am extremely happy with how the artwork has turned out, I took my sweet time to finish this (it took me more than a month), but I really put all the details that I wanted to put there, and I had SO MUCH FUN drawing the art nouveau background, filling it with all the symbols that I have associated with Jacob and Dottie (the Lilies for Dorothea, the Star/Sun for Dottie and Jacob, and the Rook protecting the Morning Star with the six little stars that are going to be their children -this one I actually mentioned in the third chapter of my story, "In The Heat of The Moment"). I am actually so happy with how it turned out because it will be the cover for my story for Jacob and Dottie, once I am done writing it and printing it on paper for myself!

WELL, I AM THE TEXTBOOK EXAMPLE OF "YOU THOUGHT, BITCH".

Because, as usual, I ended up writing a whole one-shot. BUT I HAVE NO REGRETS.

I love Jacob and Dorothea, I love writing about them, and they are my absolute comfort. Their relationship just makes me so insanely happy!

PLUS.

Today it's the 8th May, and it's my dearest Dorothea's birthday, so I was extremely happy that I managed to finish everything today, JUST IN TIME.

Also, credit goes to Mr. Nemo for the BEAUTIFUL idea he had about the gift Jacob gave Dorothea for her birthday. He had a fabulous idea, it was truly perfect for both of them!

Anyway, I hope you will like both the artwork and the story!!!

--Nemo

#Assassin's Creed Syndicate #Jacob Frye #ac syndicate #assassin's creed #Dorothea Starrick #Jottie #CanonxOc #my oc #my art #my writing #Nemo writes #Nemo Sketches #ocfairygodmother #ocappreciation

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rmhashauthor · 10 months

Text

"Pet", fiction in 4 parts - Part 2

Part 1 can be found here

When Kira came out of the shower-room, dressed in a deeply green sheath that set the gold and copper in her eyes aflame, Taun had to swallow his heart back down into his chest in order to continue setting up the dinner he'd prepared for her. His heart leaped again when he heard her small gasp of astonishment, and he held out a cup of mid-grade liquor he'd prepared for when she appeared. Her eyes, wide and beautifully expressive, took in the sight of various roots, talks, leaves and seeds arranged on plain steel plates and garnished with the few flowers he could spare, and rose to his with amazement as she took the drink. “Did you...?”

“Ah, yeah...” He had to control his eyes, trying not to focus too hard on the shape of her body under that clingy green fabric. “Is it too much?”

“It's...” Kira searched for the word. “It's incredible – you grew all this?”

Taun nodded. “Mm-hmm, I've gutted and refitted this ship and turned it into a mobile farm, basically. It keeps my food cost down and passes the time.” He didn't mention the secure rooms where he grew hallucinogenic herbs, fungus and algae just yet – he'd tell her about that particular income stream later.

“I haven't had fruit in probably six or seven years,” Kira breathed, staring greedily at a small cluster of bright yellow berries. “I don't even know what half of it is.” Her eyes sparkled, though, and she looked hungry enough to demolish it all. Taun wondered if she'd ever look at him in the same way. Don't get ahead of yourself. Instead, he invited her to sit on the mat he'd laid out on the floor – his only table was currently holding up a pallet of seedlings in the greenhouse. He watched her kneel, green fabric rippling around her legs as she reached for a cushion to sit on. Settling in, Kira took a drink and raised her eyes to the ceiling in bliss. “Oh my god... Don't tell me you do this all the time?”

Taun shook his head, grinning and lowering himself to sit. “I wish. I'll be honest, if you decide to stay we'll be eating leftovers for a while, then it'll be mostly protein bars and greens.” Taun found himself hoping she would stay.

“Sounds like paradise.” Kira took another sip and set her cup down. “It's still better than the colony, did you hear the part where I said I haven't had fruit in years?”

“I did. I don't always have fruit, either – the plants need to rest between crops, but I keep plenty of preserved stuff on hand. You won't go hungry unless something really bad happens, and even then it'll be a while before I run out.”

“Good to know. Can I...?” Kira gestured towards the food.

“Help yourself, I did this for you.”

She smiled. “Trying to win me over?”

Taun shrugged. “It gets lonely and cold out there, and my setup gets bigger every year, I could use the extra hands.”

“So it's not just about sex, then?” Kira picked an arrangement of fresh fruit and prepared vegetables, selecting pieces carefully. Taun paid attention to the pieces she picked and how quickly – they would be things she was familiar with or appealed the most to her. “When I read the notice, I kind of got the impression that being a pet is more like an arranged marriage than anything else.”

“It can mean a lot of things, depending on who's making the rules. That's what this is for, a chance to talk it over and see if we're looking for the same thing or if we can compromise. What led you to respond, if I may ask? It's... not common for humans to be interested in these things.”

“Can I be honest?” She popped a piece of fruit in her mouth, her tongue pink.

“I'd prefer it.”

Kira took a moment to chew before she answered. “I'm over thirty, I'm not married, and I don't want kids. These colonies tend to be on the conservative side, so if you're at least two of those things people start asking a lot of questions and getting into your business. There aren't many single women out here, so the guys can get annoying real fast – and pushy.”

Taun had to willfully settle his hackles. Already the thought of other men harassing this beautiful, obviously intelligent and amazingly bold woman had him feeling... fighty. Still, she was choosing a relationship that largely centered around sex over settling down, raising a family, being among her own people... “From what I understand, Rock 22 isn't a popular colony.”

“Nope, it's a mining colony, so the work is hard and supplies are expensive. And it's just a rock, there's nothing nice to look at or anywhere to go where you can forget what it's like being underground.” Kira raised her eyes again, this time to the profusion of greenery around and above. Some of the vines had become enmeshed with the wiring, and trails of leaves wound around the support frames Taun had left intact when he cut out bulkheads. Suddenly her eyes widened. “Is that a flower?”

Taun looked where she stared. In one of the supporting beams, in a hole he'd stuffed with moss and growing medium, a tiny white and yellow blossom had begun to unfold like a hand revealing a tiny, precious jewel. He smiled. “Drassian teaflower, one of my favorites. It just started doing that today.”

“All by itself?” Kira shot him a teasing glance, “I figured with you trying to make a good impression and all that...”

“Hey now, if you know how to make flowers bloom on command I may not let you leave.” Taun caught the flash of a grin. “It's just luck, and patience. And a lot more trial-and-error than I care to admit.”

“Isn't that everything?” Kira pulled her attention back from the plants and redirected it between him and the food. Despite not having fruit for years she ate with controlled but obviously sincere pleasure. Taun hoped she approached more than food in the same manner. He was more than content to just watch her, let her enjoy the meal uninterrupted while he enjoyed the view. The dress, probably home-made from whatever material she could scavenge or barter for, hugged her body from chest to hips before widening slightly, and the body under it was no disappointment – already he was imagining what she would feel like against his hands, his pelt, his mouth... Obviously Kira understood what a Leagan expected from his pet, and she must have chosen this outfit to show off what she had to offer in that respect. Sitting on the floor with her legs curled to the side, her hips and thighs strained the green cloth and Taun thought he could see the outline of a little roll in the crease between them. He bit his cheek in anticipation. “So, what about you? How does a guy with a mobile farm not already have a woman and a handful of kids?”

Taun scratched his head, fluffing his crest. “Like a lot of Leagans, I served time in the defense corps. Engineering, mostly. By the time I got out, most of the women were already settled and I guess I missed the window.” The immediate downcast of her eyes told him Kira knew about the fight against the Arakan, and the horrific attack on the Leagan genesis planet. “I guess you know about h'Leaga, then.”

Kira nodded soberly “News travels faster than supplies. I'm... I'm sorry, Taun.”

“Not your fault. We'll spring back in a generation or two, and I donate what I can.” Taun grinned at that. For all he knew there might be a hundred or so Leagan kids with his coloring, born from his 'donations' to gene banks over the years. He shook off the grief and had a drink. “Besides, raising children never really appealed to me either. I like doing what I do, trading and transporting and living my life. It's honest work... mostly.”

“Mostly?” That got her attention. “What does that mean?” Though she asked, a sly smile teased the corner of her mouth. Taun liked that.

“Well, I guess I should ask how you feel about... moving the occasional contraband cargo. Most of what I do is legit, but I don't see why I should pass up the opportunity to make a little extra untraceable funds now and then.”

Kira's eyes sparkled and she chuckled. “I should've guessed – you come all the way out here not because you want to provide us poor mining folk with fresh food, but because the authorities don't come out this far unless it's a big deal. You lure people in with oranges and berries, then you sell them... Let me guess, naash? Redthorn? Ayahuasca?”

“And cannabis, mushrooms, pills, all the good stuff. Not to mention poisons and rare plants for edgy collectors. Is that going to be a problem?”

“Hell no, fuck the police.” Kira grinned, giggling. “There's nothing else to do out here except work, let people have some fun.”

Taun breathed an internal sigh of relief. “Do you partake?”

“Not on the first date. Better safe than sorry, yeah?”

“No pressure. I can show you the grow-rooms if you're interested–“

“Plenty of time for that later. Right now, I'm curious about how long it's going to take before you finally crack.”

Taun blinked. “Hmm?”

Kira indicated the food. “You've barely touched anything, and the whole time I've been here you keep eating me with your eyes. Not that I mind, but it's pretty obvious you like me. And I like you, so we don't need to play games. I want off this rock, and playing pet for a guy who seems like he knows what he's doing is a hell of a lot better than rotting in a mineral mine with drunks and convicts pawing at me all the time.”

Taun blinked some more. She did seem eager to get away, but she was treading carefully. She made no unreasonable demands and seemed to accept what she was getting into. There was no legal tape, no binding contract – if things didn't pan out, he could always drop her off at another colony and start over – but for the most part she seemed willing. Her disdain for authority didn't hurt either. “What's the difference between getting pawed at by a convict and getting pawed at by me? I'm just curious.”

Kira rolled her eyes and sipped at her drink. “There's not a woman on the rock who hasn't been grabbed, rubbed on or slapped on the ass by some soggy prick who thinks he's being cute. Since I came here, though, you've been nothing but manners – I could've walked out of that shower buck-naked and you would've just stood there. I can tell already by how you act and talk that you won't do anything to me unless I say I'm good with it, and I like to think I'm a pretty good judge of character.”

Stunned, Taun could do little more than have another taste of his drink. It was true – she'd been giving him cues and openings all evening, from the moment she walked in, and he hadn't acted on any of them. She hadn't explicitly said he should, though her eyes feasted just as much as his. Hell, she'd touched him without asking, something Taun wouldn't have dared with any woman. Leagan women had claws too, and you could always tell a stupid male by the scars. “Well, you're right about a few things – I don't touch anything that doesn't belong to me, and I was raised by parents who didn't want me to lose an eye, so I'd agree with you on my character. And you don't seem to mind my odd jobs, which is good because I'm not giving those up – the money's just too good. As far as cracking goes...” He ran his eyes over her again, taking his time and making sure she saw. “Let's just say I'm made of sterner stuff.”

A slow smile spread from Kira's lips to her eyes. “The 'stuff' is what I'm interested in. I've met Leagans before, but I never had the chance to get really close to one... Do you know what a cat is?”

“Those little fluffy creatures that eat vermin? Yes, they're all the rage on some of the Leagan colonies at the moment.”

“Hmm.” She studied him for a moment, visibly working through a thought. It looked serious. “Would it be racist of me if I said you remind me of them?”

Taun laughed. Gods, I like her! She was so forthright, so clever and humorous, she cut through the bullshit and said exactly what she wanted to say, in such a way that he just couldn't be offended. “Maybe a little? But I don't mind, they're fine animals. Unless you're suggesting I eat vermin?”

“No, not at all.” Her smile returned and Kira looked relieved. “But... I kinda would like to pet you, if that's okay.”

The thrill that coursed through Taun's body was rapturous. He closed his eyes so she wouldn't see them roll back in his head, anticipatory pleasure briefly overwhelming his senses. To feel her smooth, brown fingers combing through his pelt, ruffling the coarse hairs on the back of his neck leading up to his crest, stroking his ears, chest and belly before moving lower... Taun gathered his courage and opened his eyes. “Only if I get to pet you, too.”

Part 3

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mazegays · 8 months

Text

could've followed my fears all the way down

Chapter 12

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11

He’s kept away from the medical cabin—everyone is, except for Frypan and a few other cooks, who bring them food—until Anya says they’re awake.

Thomas hasn’t slept well in a week, at least. He keeps thinking about what he could have done to stop this from happening.

“Gally has two breaks in his femur and a moderate concussion. Minho’s got a cracked rib and a moderate concussion. They’ve both got deep bruising along their spines where the tree landed, but so far no nerve damage is showing.” Anya tells him, looking exhausted herself. “They’ll be fine with time and rest. You can see them, but not for too long.”

They’re hardly awake, but that’s okay. Just seeing them makes it easier to believe that they’ll be okay.

He still thinks that he should have been able to do something.

Sonya comes to kick him out on Harriet’s behalf.

“Go and sleep. You can come back and maybe actually talk to them in the morning.”

It’s still not the same as sleeping with someone in the same room, in the same bed. Thomas didn’t realize how much he was depending on that to sleep until it was gone; until he didn’t even have the option of sharing with someone.

They’ll be better soon.

finish on ao3 or continue reading

For the next week, Thomas spends his mornings with Gally and Minho.

“Thomas, you didn’t get hurt, did you?” Minho sits up when he sees him, wincing.

“No, I’m fine.” A few cuts and bruises from branches, but nothing like what they had. “Lay back down, Minho, you’re not supposed to be moving much.”

“It’s weird being the one in the bed.” Gally mutters, maybe thinking Thomas wouldn’t hear him.

“What else are you doing today, Thomas?” Minho ignores him.

Thomas doesn’t have a good answer for that. He knows he won’t be allowed to stay here all day, but he hasn’t thought about what he’s going to do when he’s not here.

“No, you don’t need to sit with us all day. We’re probably going to sleep most of it anyway. Go work in the greenhouse, or with Frypan.”

“I will, I will.” Thomas says. “Anya will kick me out at some point anyway. But I’m visiting for as long as you’ll let me every morning.”

“Sounds good.” Thomas wants to mention what they said, but Gally’s halfway to sleeping again.

He also doesn’t know what to say. He’s been turning it over in his head for days, but it’s not something he’s thought about. Sure, Minho had said he loved him in Denver, but Thomas has never been sure how sincere that was.

Surviving had seemed more important than thinking about the butterflies it gave him, anyway.

Thomas tells them about the trees they’re planting, that Jorge’s group came back with the generator, and Frypan’s new… experiments in the kitchen.

He avoids the topic of the forest altogether because now that he has the chance to say something, he doesn’t know what to tell them.

Sonya and Harriet make this look so easy. If he thought it’d do him any good, he’d go ask them how they do it.

(He thinks they know anyway; they’re constantly dropping ‘subtle’ hints and trying to help him.)

Gally and Minho don’t bring it up either, so he doesn’t know what they think about it.

He’ll wait. He’ll wait, until they bring it up again, say it again, or until he figures out what’s going on in his brain with this.

As soon as he’s cleared, Minho insists on running with Thomas. Gally’s still got a week before he’s going to be allowed out, with his leg broken, so they go before he wakes up in the mornings.

They still haven’t talked, but Thomas thinks it can wait until one of them isn’t falling asleep mid-conversation.

He’s just glad they’re both going to be okay. He and Minho have rarely been separated for more than a few days before, and Gally’s bed still feels too big without him there.

After a few days, Minho drags him to the woods to run.

“Think about it, Thomas. The Maze was stone, we’ve been sticking to the safe ground here. It’ll be fun to run somewhere different.”

Minho tries to play it off as excitement, but he’s been avoiding the woods at all costs.

Thomas doesn’t blame him.

“Let’s go.”

They’ve both walked the woods plenty of times, but there are still roots and rocks to trip them up as they run.

They come back bruised and exhausted that first morning. When Gally sees them, he doesn’t let them near him until they’ve cleaned up.

“It’s not that bad, Gally.” Thomas says. And if sometimes he presses against the bruises to make them last longer, well, no one needs to know that.

One day, Thomas manages to trip in just the right spot to cut his cheek open and bruise his eye.

Minho laughs at him the whole way back.

“Seriously, Thomas, how do you keep getting the worst ones?” He leans into Minho’s side as they walk back— he doesn’t really need to, but it’s nice.

Sonya rolls her eyes at them when she sees them. “You two, I swear. Worse than Harriet and I were.”

“We weren’t that bad, babe.”

“We really were. We used to partner up to run and then make out instead. We didn’t fool anyone.”

Anya rolls her eyes when she sees them.

“Why do you keep running in places you get hurt?”

“Well, it’s mostly Thomas getting hurt.” Minho jokes, nudging Thomas lightly.

“And your ribs have been perfectly fine with all this running?”

“Yeah, mostly. A few twinges here and there, but we’re not going full-speed and Thomas is good at knowing when to slow us down.”

He is?

He’s been paying attention to when Minho winces, but he hadn’t realized he’d been changing pace because of it.

“Go rest. No more than a slow jog for you for the rest of the week.” Anya herds Minho into the medical cabin. “And Thomas, you’ll be fine. Maybe watch your own step a little more, though.” Thomas nods.

“I’m going to see if Frypan needs anything. I’ll come back with lunch?”

“Wonderful idea.” She smiles. “Don’t come back before then, though, or I will put you in one of these beds.”

On his way to the kitchen, Rosa pulls him aside.

“Thomas, come on.” She presses a bag of ice into his hand.

As far as he knows the only ice they have is in the medical cabin for injuries.

He hadn’t seen her at all as he and Minho had come in, how’d she know his face is bruised?

“Lucky guess.” She brings him to an out-of-the-way corner. “Thomas, you know you don’t have to run with Minho, right?”

“I know.” What is this about? “I like to.”

“You keep getting hurt!”

“I’ve gotten hurt before and you don’t react like this.” He knows he’s squinting when his eye starts throbbing in time with his heart. “What’s this about, Rosa?”

“Just, Thomas, if you need help with anything, you can tell me.”

“Rosa, are you trying to hide Thomas away?” Frankie laughs. “I thought this was our spot!”

“It is, but Frankie, look at him.” Rosa gestures, and he looks down at himself, confused. What does Rosa think is going on?

His sleeve has fallen down as he’s been holding the ice to his eye. Some of the scratches on his arm from the trees, and the cuts from… earlier… are visible, others covered with a yellowing bruise.

“Thanks for the ice, Rosa. I told Minho and Gally I’d bring them lunch, I’m going to help Frypan now.”

“Thomas, you can tell us if something’s wrong.” Frankie’s looking at him weird now too, and Thomas doesn’t know what to make of it.

“Nothing’s wrong. Thanks for checking in, though.”

“Of course, Thomas.” They let him go, and he can’t shake the feeling that they’re watching him for the rest of the day.

Thomas isn’t as careful as he should be when they run the next day. Rosa was watching him again this morning, and glaring at Minho— she’s never had a problem with him before, so he doesn’t know what she’s thinking. Even going slow so Minho doesn’t reinjure himself, Thomas still ends up tripping in a ditch just off the little path they’re following.

“Woah, shank, it’s a good thing you weren’t this clumsy in the Maze. You would have had concussions constantly.” Minho’s grip is maybe a little too tight on his arm, but looking at the sharp drop-off of the ‘ditch’, Thomas understands why. Minho pulls him back to solid ground, not even grunting with the effort. Rude, honestly. Thomas knows he’s gained weight lately, even though he hasn’t been able to bring himself to say the words out loud quite yet.

For some reason, it feels like the minute he says anything, it’ll all disappear.

“How’s your ankle? Didn’t twist it or anything?”

“Just stepped wrong, I think. Wasn’t paying attention.” Thomas admits. Putting more than minimal pressure on his foot sends an odd fuzzy pain feeling through his ankle, so they call it for the day.

“Hey, Thomas, if it’s bad I can carry you.” Minho offers.

“You’ve still got a cracked rib, Minho, you’re not carrying me.” Thomas can’t help laughing a little. “It’s probably not even sprained, Harriet will wrap it and I’ll be good to go.” Still, he lets Minho take a little more of his weight than he really needs to. If yesterday was nice, this is better.

He doesn’t know why, and he can’t explain it, but he likes it.

Rosa’s not watching when they get back, but Frankie is.

If Thomas didn’t know better, he’d think one of them is jealous of him or Minho. But they’re dating each other, so that doesn’t make sense.

He’ll figure it out later, he doesn’t have the energy to bother right now.

“Harriet, we require your assistance.” They don’t go directly to the medical cabin, instead joining Harriet where she’s sitting by the firepit.

“I nearly fell off the path,” Thomas tells her, sheepish. It’s a little ridiculous. Running was all he did, and now he’s not even good at that! “Minho caught me, but my ankle might be twisted.”

She has him take off his shoe and sock, then rolls up his pants a little. “It’s not swelling up too much. Any pain when I touch it?” He shakes his head. She adds more pressure, slowly, and he stops her when it does hurt.

“Very mild twist, it’ll probably just hurt for the rest of the day. I’ll wrap it anyway since I don’t think Minho is going to let me get away with not wrapping it,” Harriet rolls her eyes at him pointedly, “And you’re good to go. Maybe no standing around in the kitchen, though.”

“I was going to help Sonya with harvesting the strawberries anyway. The earliest ones in the greenhouse are looking pretty good.”

“Just don’t eat them all before we get them to Frypan.” Minho hits him on the back of the head lightly.

“No promises.” Thomas grins at him. “If you’re lucky, I’ll bring you a few.”

“Oh, you better.” Minho looks like he’s going to say—or do—something else, but instead, he heads back to the medical cabin.

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