#i was smiling a lot while writing this

[silversoulstardust]

Chapters: 4/4 Fandom: Buddy Daddies (Anime) Rating: Explicit Word counts: 17264 words

And yet, here he was, standing frozen like a deer in the headlight at the sight of blood. At the sight of Kazuki’s blood, the way he was unconscious on the ground as he continued to bleed from his head following the fall against the edge of the curb, slowly seeping to the ground and staining it red. There was a broken lightbulb, of glasses shattering right next to his hand.

“Papa Rei, call the ambulance,” Miri urged Rei before shifting her attention again to Kazuki, kneeling by his side and roughly shaking him to get him to wake up with increasing panic. “Papa Kazu! Papa Kazu, wake up! This is not funny! Papa Rei, hurry! Ambulance!”

--

OR: Kazuki had a head injury and lost his memories. Rei and Miri worked together to make him remember, and Kazuki fell in love all over again.

[silusvesuius]

steer clear of ....the illigitimate child of... nvm

[wickmitz]

I decided to start talking about Wick and Rocky's relationship because I like their dynamics too, I like seeing Wick scared of Rocky and Rocky being aggressive with him, which is unusual because Rocky is rarely aggressive with anyone, but of course Wick is an exception to rule

Also my mini opinion about their possible relationship, I think that if Rocky didn't have to fight for his place, then he and Wick could become friends, or at least tolerate each other a little, I also see some superficial similarities, their gentlemanly and romantic natures, and their common love for explosions (remembering the quarrymen chapter), but this is my assumption, I think that I don't understand the characters' personalities well, so I can be wrong in this assumption, something like that. So, what do you think about their relationship?

for starters, i cannot thank you enough for this ask! as i’ve said previously, i have many thoughts on these two, so it’s nice to finally be able to share some of them. although given the extent to which i think about them, i apologize in advance if this is sloppy and sort of everywhere … while i’ll try to structure things the best i can, i cannot promise i’ll succeed! but hopefully this is an enjoyable reply nonetheless.

one of my favorite things about rocky and wick’s relationship is absolutely how aggressive rocky is towards the aristocrat ; he is prone to glares and cruel jokes and borderline hissing whenever the man is within his line of sight, or can be brought to a wailing-fit over the mere mention of his name from miss m’s mouth. there is a childishness to it, but a very prominent threat as well in spite of rocky’s usual incompetence. so he goes out of his way to posture around wick, readily lying and adorning himself with the gangster drapes he so badly wants to wear, in the hopes that it intimidates … will even badmouth wick’s family and make fun of his name and rock related obsession to mitzi, and so on so forth! yet all of this is very reminiscent of schoolyard bullying rather than anything too severe, though we as the audience understand rather quickly that rocky would bash wick’s head in with a tire iron if he could. ( translation : if it wouldn’t earn the tears or hate of a certain beloved mitzi may ) and it’s all very intense despite the absence of actual violence! and i understand why many fans see this as unusual for rocky and believe that it’s only wick who makes him act so aggressively, but i’d argue it isn’t really wick at all that prompts such scary reactions from him … and that rocky is a deeply angry character who’s a.) been boiling quietly for a long, long time and b.) has turned wick into a punching bag of sorts for this inner world of resentment and hurt. basically, when he’s judging the well-to-do or poking fun, his eyes don’t look at wick and actually acknowledge him as sedgewick sable ; instead this is a being, something vague and metaphorical, who threatens to upseat rocky’s permanence in the lackadaisy and steal away his savior, and he’s had a hand in the violinist’s misfortune for a long time.

obviously, rocky doesn’t think wick robbed him of his family twice over and made him homeless, but he is channeling the fear and anguish of those events into his loathing for wick, if that makes sense? it’s easier that way -- to finally have an outlet for everything bleeding inside of you, to be able to bite and claw at something without feeling conflicted or having to take personal accountability for your own mistakes … which is something that i think rocky does struggle with to a degree. he is sort of a finger pointer! his pain has to be worth something, it has to be for someone else ; spending years homeless and losing his last bit of family was for freckle, and the scrambling of his literal brain was for mitzi, and that means he can’t ever be angry with them! well, except that he is, somewhat, but he buries it deep down instead of feeling it. with freckle there is a sense of strain between them -- an air of ‘you owe me’ from rocky to freckle as he uses freckle to appease miss m, and he constantly pokes fun at his cousin too. it’s lighter than his jabs at wick, but there’s a constant pestering, a reminder of how good freckle has it : how he’s got the mom and the house and the job and the girl most notably. i don’t think rocky is intending to come across as mean, and to his credit he hardly does! but it’s rather clear to me that some part of him, some hidden and deeply hurt part, is rather indignant about taking the fall for freckle all those years ago. which he can’t understand, because how could he? he made that choice, he decided to take accountability for something he didn’t do because he loves freckle and knows it’d be so easy to believe this family tragedy was roark’s fault ; the devilish child he was, all troublesome and too broken to properly fit anywhere. so there is a disconnect born here, where rocky can’t comprehend that he’d be angry at freckle, so instead these not so great feelings are placed elsewhere and silently boil over time. and with mitzi … i don’t think he’s angry at her per se, but there is a frustrated and desperate chorus of : why him and why not me, when i’m the one out here dying for you? which is certainly unpleasant. of course, rather than allowing those feelings to be more aimed at miss m, whom he feels unloved by, he ( again! ) represses these emotions and allows them to fester into his greatest fears and fantastical complexes. i think there is a lot of other miscellaneous anger he could have towards others too … perhaps some part of him is sore upon seeing ivy’s normal lifestyle, watching her go to university and knowing that’s been taken from him. or an ache felt when hearing stories from zib and the band and how they used to travel successfully, living as nomads, and rocky is all too reminded of his similar lifestyle and how he couldn’t make it work as effortlessly. people with immense trauma are more prone to irrational anger and jealousy, to viewing everything around them as unfair and believing it’s even more unjust that so many people get to live comfortably while they’ve suffered. a situation that gets more messy when you’re someone like rocky, a man who’s willingly made choices that have harmed himself and wants to continue on with his smiling, bumbling fool of an act. he does not want to be angry, does not want to see it within himself, i think, which leads to an accidental increase of it.

all of this is to reiterate that wick is a scapegoat for rocky and nothing more. it’s why he’s rather hypocritical whenever it concerns the man. for example, it was stated by tracy that he looks down upon wick for his excessive presence at the bar, yet he appears to enjoy hanging out with zib -- who drinks just as often! he makes fun of how all wick ever talks about is rocks, when he himself is prone to poetry rambles that people find irritating or boring, and etc etc. this is also just a human nature thing, to critique someone you heavily dislike and even going as far as to belittle things you love or do in your own day to day because you just hate them that bad! but given rocky’s willingness to befriend anyone, it more so reeks of a dehumanization element. wick is every obstacle in his way, every divine force that threatens to send him packing again, so he is equal parts unnerved by wick’s presence and angry about it. it is mostly a fear response we are seeing, an emotion that’s morphed into long held resentment and anger. so his actions are extremely defensive, with him trying to push wick far away and keep him and mitzi separate, like some sort of animal attempting to ward off a threat that’s come too close to their home. despite the loaded animosity there, this hate has hardly reached its peak … but it shall only grow more intense as things continue onward i’m afraid, since as it stands ( in the comic at least ) rocky is at an all time low … and is ten times more desperate. i’d honestly say wick has become so warped in his mind’s eye that he can only strive towards ‘winning’ over the other man, because that’s all he can see anymore. i think mitzi implying that wick willingly helped her out, the intense head injury, and rocky’s fragile emotional state is exactly what pushes him towards premeditated murder in look-see. i don’t know how people perceive that arc, but to me it’s very clear that rocky actively sought to see the deaths of wes and fish that night. going as far as to lament that he’d be, “very disappointed if ( he ) dreamed them,” and purposefully luring the marigold duo away to have freckle pick them off. while you could argue that this was a smart move, in a gangster sort of sense, there’s still no denying that rocky is oddly chipper about the whole thing and is now seeking death out ; whereas before his methods of vengeance were just, well, ruining people’s livelihood but ultimately leaving them alive. this isn’t to discredit the fact that rocky is going through something! he is in a very muddled and dark place, mentally and physically, but even tracy has said that the head injury hasn’t changed rocky’s personality -- it’s only brought things to the surface.

source : q&a with tracy .

which, yeah! makes sense! head trauma can cause a person to become a wreck emotionally ( think mood swings, irritability, etc ) but it doesn’t completely morph someone either. personality changes may occur, but it’s not like you’re being rewritten entirely, you know? and given tracy’s old statement, it’s clear that ‘personality changes’ aren’t a side effect he’s suffering from. something that adds to my beginning statement, which is that rocky is a deeply angry and troubled person, more so than fans give him any credit for.

however, to touch upon your mini opinion about these two, i actually wholeheartedly agree that rocky and wick could become friends if circumstances were different. they do in fact have many superficial similarities, but one of the more prominent things they deeply share is never really belonging in the groups they frequent. this is more overt with rocky’s character, yet wick faces it too in subtle ways. the well-to-do crowd, seen through the investors, find the gentleman to be lacking in about every place imaginable ; to them he is an obsessive freak who cares too deeply for meager rocks, something they constantly mock him for, while he’s also being noticeably set apart from the rest of them … he seems younger than the investors, more excitable, passionate, and a little less experienced, and doesn’t seem to care for money or reputation as much as them either. there is a constant rubbing between him and them, where what he enjoys is seen as wrong, such as his love for the lackadaisy and his choice in paramor, a grieving widow with extremely dangerous ties. we also know that wick doesn’t have many friends at all, with the only two he has being lacy and church ( church is listed as such on his character profile, in a sort of tongue-in-cheek way ), both of whom work for or with him. they are obliged to hang around, and while they care in varying ways, they are prone to judging him just as much. honestly, it’s not shocking that wick seeks refuge at his chosen speakeasy! but even there he is rather distant from everyone else. he doesn’t speak to zib ever in the comics, nor seems all too close with viktor, ivy, or horatio … it is merely mitzi he is close to, even if he knows of the other people who work there. and, once again, wick very obviously doesn’t fit in. he is not gangster material, could never be an atlas may replacement, much less someone who could get his paws dirty in such an active way. so he has his feet in two different worlds and doesn’t know how to fit into either of them, or which one he actually wants to fit into more. i think in many ways rocky could relate -- these are two very lonely people who wish to belong somewhere and be accepted by some group or another but go about it in all the wrong ways. wick, who is too hesitant to fully commit to what he wants and is worse off for it, and then rocky, who obsessively throws himself against what he wants until he breaks every bone in his body. they also have explosives to bond over, lol, and other miscellaneous things like their taste in women i suppose … but this potential bond adds to the tragedy of lackadaisy, where we see two people who on every level should get along but we’re burdened with the knowledge that it’s an impossibility anyway, because there’s no removing the circumstance of which they’re in.

though i like to believe that despite wick’s fear of rocky, he maintains a kindness towards him regardless. i think his worries about rocky are rather surface level … he doesn’t know the boy at all, really, and thus can’t make heads or tails of him, hence him believing the lie in balderdash. so when i’m feeling particularly self indulgent, i like imagining a world where they’re forced together and sort of ‘stuck’ together ; to which rocky finally breaks and exposes his wounds to wick, in every sense of the word, and wick finally gets him. the aggression, the possessiveness of mitzi … it is all fear and desperation and a profound sadness, things he’d sympathize with. if rocky was able to explain that he loathes wick because if he saves the lackadaisy then mitzi won’t need him anymore and that it’s not fair that wick gets to so easily fix things when rocky would give his soul for his home, for her, and how wick could render every sacrifice he’s already made for naught by smoothing things over with some greenbacks and he can’t lose this, he just can’t --! … which, well, wick is too kind of a man to be able to do anything except feel awful, even though it’s not his fault at all. here we have two people who could coexist! and they should, since rocky logically can’t do every speakeasy job ( band member, rumrunner, mitzi’s shadow, also the guy who gets the money for the hooch ) by himself, just like how wick can’t save the lackadaisy with only his cash and limited booze stash. it’d be a joint cooperation, a collaboration between them, both equally important in the grand scheme of crime’s every turning wheel … but rocky’s rage and fear won’t let him see that, and likely never will. still, in scenarios where everything ends up alright for the lackadaisy and the people involved in it ( which is not how canon will go, by the way ), i fancy wick and rocky getting better within their relationship. rocky will always be prickly and quick to upset around the other man sadly, but perhaps he could see wick in a softer kind of light. or at least understand vaguely enough that he isn’t out to get rocky, so to speak. and then maybe wick learns that pancakes soothe rocky’s ire and poorly makes them anytime he wishes to talk to the man, and other fun things like that! but you should have more confidence in your character analysis skills, because you were spot on ( at least in my eyes ) about them potentially getting along if things were different. it’s certainly a fun aspect to play around with, and is important to note when discussing their relationship so you can fully understand just how warped rocky’s perspective on things are. and how unstable and traumatized he is too, of course </3 sidenote, but i also hope that throughout everything i’ve said here, or anything i’ve said before on my blog, that my love for rocky and my own sympathy for him comes across well enough. while he’s deeply flawed and i have no qualms discussing said flaws in depth, i also don’t think of him as some insane freak who’s evil at his core or anything like that. honestly, i adore analyzing him so much as a character because of how far down his issues go! he’s very well written, i’ll say, as is wick and many of the other characters, but i digress.

once more, thank you for the ask! i’ll end this here because i fear if i don’t i’ll start going in circles, since their relationship is so vast and very important for rocky in a character sense. hopefully i shed some more light on it though! i love these two to bits and pieces and i wouldn’t be half as invested in lackadaisy if their dynamic wasn’t so monumental -- at least to me.

[justpeaxchy]

Oo, okay, so I know you write romantic stuff (all amazing btw), but if you’re up for it, maybe some platonic head-canons? Like, Hiccup with a reader who is his like adopted younger sister or something?

No pressure!!!

A/n: thank you!! I had so much fun writing this and a big ol' smile was on my face the whole time! (I was able to complete this request much quicker than usual lol, so here you go!)

Warnings(?): mentions of a small wound & bleeding, other than that, none.

'You Know I Love You So.'

First of all, Hiccup would be the best brother to have, no joke.

He's there for you when you need comfort, a good laugh, and when you just need company.

He's very protective, though. Sometimes he can go a little far, but he doesn't want you to think he's trying to control you or something, so he watches from afar if you're ever doing anything that may be out of your comfort zone.

*Cough* (out of his comfort zone.)

When and if you're old enough, he'll definitely take you out on flights with him and Toothless to find new islands together for his map.

He really enjoys showing you the things he makes too. If Astrid isn't the first person around him at that moment, he's gonna ramble all about it to you.

He doesn't feel awkward for doing so because he knows you'll listen. But he does feel bad if it's towards the night because you end up falling asleep most of the time while he's still talking.

He just doesn't fully know that you find his voice soothing enough to fall asleep to.

This man loves to tickle his sibling. You can't tell me otherwise.

If you're not waking up in the mornings when it's time for you to, he goes to his last option, which is to force you out of bed by tickling you.

He has the most cocky smirk on his face when you admit defeat and start getting up. You're quick to wipe that off, though, when you punch his arm.

(You got that idea from Astrid.)

When he sees you together with Astrid, this guy is in Cloud 9.

He absolutely adores it when you two spend time together, it makes his heart melt seeing that you're comfortable with her.

Hiccup forgets that you're actually adopted into his family sometimes, it feels like you've been there since the beginning. He was 10 when you officially became his adopted sister and, although it took some time for you to warm up to him, he began to love having you as his sibling with each passing day.

The first time he actually said the words "I love you" was when you had a cut on your arm and you were crying because of the sight of blood. You had accidentally scratched yourself against a tree branch when you tried following him into the forest.

Hiccup was wrapping the wound with a cloth, feeling guilty that he couldn't do anything to stop the cut from happening in the first place, and seeing the tears in your eyes didn't make it any better for him.

He comforted you the best he could while he was attending to the cut, and continued to once he was done. He gently held your shoulders as he hesitated to say what was on his mind before he spoke: "Hey.. I'm sorry I wasn't looking out better for you back there.. I love you, okay? I'll make sure you won't get hurt next time."

He thought you wouldn't be okay with him saying something like that yet, but when he noticed the small smile forming on your face, he was immensely relieved.

Overall, Hiccup is so glad that you came into his life as his sister. He always assumed that he wouldn't have the opportunity to enjoy being with a sibling, but when you came, he didn't have to worry about those thoughts anymore.

[smilesrobotlover]

Chapter 2- The Upheaval

First

AO3

Summary: it’s been three years since Calamity Ganon attacked Hyrule, and everyone was recovering well from it. Until the strange substance gloom appeared, making people sick when they touched it. Wanting to find answers, Zelda and the champions went beneath the castle against her father’s wishes to try to solve the problem. Meanwhile, the King of Hyrule hopes to use Impa’s help in interrogating master Kohga about the gloom, despite the Yiga leader knowing very little about it. Little did they all know, that a great threat was brewing beneath Hyrule castle, waiting for a seal to break.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The world was bathed in golden sunlight, with bright green trees scattered across the town and the castle courtyards. It was warm, with a gentle breeze that rustled the leaves and grass, making a quiet shh sound through the air. The birds were chirping cheerily as they flew through the wind, and it overall was a beautiful day. Yet none of it calmed the unease Rhoam had lurking in his heart. He felt nauseous as he walked through the halls of the castle, his chest feeling as if it were constricted which made his breathing shallow. Sweat dripped down his forehead as a lump remained in his throat, but he made an effort in hiding his true feelings from everyone that saw him as they passed down the halls. Fortunately there weren’t a lot of maids or guards in the hallways, and he was mostly alone with his two bodyguards: a Hylian from Hateno named Ammon and a Hylian from Lurelin named Orman. But even then he didn’t let his true emotions out. He needed to be strong right now, to be an anchor and a sign of hope for his people. Especially now more than ever.

Three years. Three years have passed since the calamity, yet Hyrule was already showing signs of danger. A strange substance called gloom had appeared in the castle; it stuck to the walls, the floors, and poisoned the trees that were nearby. The gloom was only there for a month, yet it spread all the way to Castle town, wreaking havoc on the people. Zelda made an effort to research the gloom, sending out researchers to make sure it wasn’t malice. To their relief, it wasn’t, yet to their despair it was far worse than malice. Anyone who came into contact with malice would get severe burns from the substance—it was painful, but easily treatable. Gloom, however, fatigued those who touched it. It sucked all hope and life out of them, and all they could do was to lay there until the terrible feelings went away. It took weeks for the first person infected to feel well, and the hospitals were being filled quickly with patients who remained stagnant in their recovery. Many researchers, Zelda included, had theories that the substance was a strange fungi or mold, but none of its characteristics matched such things. It was becoming overwhelming, and a dreadful thought of another disaster striking their fragile and recovering kingdom was becoming too much for Rhoam. The calamity took its toll on him, and he’s surprised he didn’t suffer a heart attack during it.

He took over every responsibility he was able to during the calamity in an attempt to get Zelda to focus on awakening her power. It was the only piece they needed, therefore it was top priority. Everyday being met with scorn, stress, criticism, and fear over what would befall his kingdom.

Her kingdom.

His wife’s responsibility, soon to be his daughter’s. He’d done everything he could to make sure she still had a kingdom to inherit. But now he feared it was going to crumble at their feet with this new threat. They couldn’t handle another calamity.

And Rhoam could feel himself growing ill from the fear.

A desire to take over everything again so his daughter wouldn’t have to endure any of the stress almost overtook him, but he knew he couldn’t do it this time. Zelda was twenty now—she was capable, strong, and despite still being timid, she was a remarkable leader. He didn’t trust her back then and it nearly cost him his life. He couldn’t make that same mistake now. He couldn’t hurt her again.

Rhoam made it to his room and he nodded at his bodyguards, who understood that he wished to be left alone. They remained outside his door as he entered, ignoring the strong desire to fall onto his soft bed. Instead, he walked across the large room, opened the door to his balcony, and looked out across his kingdom, soon to be Zelda’s. He allowed his mind to go blank as he stared, Castle town almost looking like a ghost town as most of its inhabitants were either inside or moved out.

It was far too similar to the calamity.

A gentle knock came at his door, and he turned as it opened slowly. To his surprise, his daughter peeked her head through, her brows drawn together as she nervously eyed Rhoam. She rarely came into his room.

“Zelda,” he greeted, forcing a smile as he went to greet her. “And to what do I owe this pleasure?”

Zelda also forced a small smile back and stepped inside. She stopped right in front of him and stood up straight as if she were a soldier awaiting orders. It hurt Rhoam’s heart to see his own daughter acting in such a way around him, but he couldn’t blame her. It was his own fault for such a dynamic happening.

“Father, I came to ask you something,” she started, her voice soft and nervous. She was going to ask him something he didn’t approve of. It was all too familiar to him. “This gloom is growing dangerous, and we need to find a way to deal with it.” she shifted slightly, her hands fidgeting with each other. “But the only way we can do that is to find out where it’s coming from.”

Rhoam let out an exasperated sigh. He knew it. “Zelda, going beneath the castle is forbidden. It has been for thousands of years.”

“I-I know, but the further we go under the castle, the more gloom that shows up.” She straightened herself again, clearly trying to appear confident. “It’s not just on the walls, but it’s in the air.”

“Then it is no place for you, my daughter,” Rhoam said simply. Even if the gloom originated from beneath the castle, he wasn’t going to let his daughter of all people explore it. She frowned slightly and sighed.

“Haven’t you ever wondered why we’re not allowed down there? Nothing from my studies answered why, none of the kings and queens before us answered why. Why must we follow their directions blindly when clearly the answer to the gloom is where it’s forbidden?”

Rhoam thought for a moment. He couldn’t blame Zelda for wanting answers; he remembered he was the same way when he first married into the family. But his wife made it very clear to not travel below the castle. He found it silly, but he knew better than to question the royal family. After a moment of thinking, he finally shook his head.

“We must look into it more before we break the most ancient rule,” he finally said, and Zelda’s frown deepened.

“We won’t have time. I have a feeling that something is going to happen. Don’t you feel it too? The air isn’t right today.”

Rhoam closed his eyes and nodded. He was too tired to argue this further. “I fear disaster will strike if we were to go down there. My decision is final, Zelda. Give it more time.”

Zelda’s glare melted away, and instead of her usual upset response to rejection, it was a resigned acceptance.

“Very well, father,” she muttered, turning away to leave the room.

“I’m sorry,” Rhoam quickly called out, wanting to ease the tension slightly, but Zelda only forced another smile. She left the room quickly and Rhoam let out a sigh, allowing himself to finally lay on the bed. The tension in his head cleared slightly as he rubbed his temples and he groaned. He hated it, he hated being king, he hated seeing Zelda look at him the way she did, he hated feeling like every action he took was a mistake, he just hated it all.

Rhoam laid there for a moment, staring at the ceiling blankly. He almost couldn’t wait for Zelda to become queen so he didn’t have to tell her “no” anymore, but he knew he needed to wait. She needed to feel ready for taking on such a tremendous responsibility unlike him when his wife died. But he felt years of his life being stripped away from the stress of it all, and he didn’t know how much longer he could take it.

A beeping sound broke him from his thoughts, and he sat up, looking for where the sound came from. He heard it again and he looked down at himself, spotting his Sheikah slate that was glowing. Since the three years, Purah and Robbie wasted no time in developing more of the slates for those of importance. They only made a few; one for Zelda, Impa, the champions, the first knight, and of course, himself. They were developing more slates for the leaders of the different towns and villages, that way they could have quick contact in case disaster struck, but production was paused to find a cure for gloom. Rhoam admittedly used to find the bits of technology that weren’t the guardians or divine beasts rather childish, but since the calamity, he grew to have a greater appreciation of all of it. Quick communication (though it was rather finicky depending on where they were) was remarkably convenient, and teleporting to the different towers across Hyrule saved days of time. The things technology was capable of doing were incredible.

He only wished it wasn’t so confusing.

Rhoam frowned at the screen as he tapped several buttons, opening the map at least twelve times before finally getting to what beeped at him in the first place. To his surprise and dread, it was a message from Impa. Her message read:

I found something at the Great Plateau. Come quickly.

He reread the short message, rubbing his head tiredly. It was a concerning message to receive from Impa. Why did she need him of all people? What did she find that required the king’s attention? He was also frustrated at how vague it was—Impa normally gave very detailed explanations in her messages, so what did she find that caused her to be so vague? He hopped off his bed, not wanting to waste anymore time. Rhoam trusted Impa, and he knew that she needed him if she requested him personally.

He left his room, giving his guards a nod and pulling out his Sheikah slate. It took a long moment until Rhoam figured out how to teleport both him and his guards to the Great Plateau, but soon they disappeared in a blue light. The feeling of his body dissipating then materializing in a new area made him far more nauseous than before, and he stumbled slightly on the tower. Orman rested his hand on his shoulder to steady him, which helped.

“I’m alright,” he muttered after his vision cleared, and he straightened his back despite the slight vertigo. He faced the Great Plateau, a place he grew all too familiar with during the calamity. Glancing down at his Sheikah slate, Rhoam opened Impa’s message again, using his pointer finger to type his own message to her.

Where are you?

His bodyguards watched amused as he fumbled with the thing, finally sending the message before letting out a sigh. The air was calm here, but he did feel the unease in the world that Zelda had mentioned. Nausea built up in him again, and he decided to sit down on the tower while he waited for Impa to respond. His guards stared for a moment, standing in front of him with their weapons in their hands as if an attack were to happen at any moment. Eventually, Orman stepped closer to the king, his spear put away.

“Are you alright, my King?” He asked, and Rhoam only waved his concern away. He was always so compassionate.

“I’m alright… I’m just tired.”

“Is it the gloom?”

Rhoam didn’t respond, but he didn’t need to. The gloom was worrying everyone after all. But still, he didn’t want to seem… vulnerable to his own guards. He was always a hardened soldier, being the first knight of Hyrule before becoming the prince consort. Yet here he was, on the verge of a breakdown.

Orman didn’t press further to Rhoam’s relief, and his Sheikah slate finally beeped in his hands. The king scrambled to open the message, excitedly reading what Impa said.

At the cabin by Owa Daim Shrine.

He let out a sigh and stood up, facing the direction to the shrine. If he recalled correctly, the shrine was on a cliff side, which then led to the cabin across the cliff. He supposed it’d be quicker to teleport there, but…

No, figuring out how to teleport would take too long, as would trying to get down from the cliffside safely. Rhoam had a paraglider on him at all times, but his guards didn’t. It would be better to walk.

“Let’s go,” he said, walking to the opening in the ground on the tower. It took a long moment to get down since they had to climb to different platforms surrounding the tower, and Rhoam made a note to have his guards carry around paragliders to make traveling easier (though Rhoam rarely traveled out of the castle). He finally landed on the ground, stretching out his sore arms with Ammon close behind. Orman took the longest, losing his patience when he finally reached the platform and opting to jump off instead of climbing. Rhoam felt his heart stop when he landed from such a height, but the tall man was perfectly fine, simply brushing himself off. He let out a relieved sigh and faced south, marching towards the cabin with his guards behind him.

The Great Plateau was a place Rhoam and his guards grew familiar with since it was where they escaped to during the calamity. Many soldiers were wounded and left behind in battles throughout the kingdom, and Rhoam, having just escaped the castle, made an effort to gather them to the Temple of Time where they could get help. The healers in the sacred place helped his soldiers, meanwhile the king traveled around the plateau, killing all monsters and guardians that threatened his men. He remembered the days staring at the castle that was overflowing with malice, with red glowing lights of guardians surrounding what was once his home, praying to Hylia that Zelda was somewhere safe. The memories from the plateau weren’t entirely pleasant since Rhoam was filled with anxiety over his kingdom and daughter, but he couldn’t help but feel strangely nostalgic as he passed by Eastern Abbey. During the hardest moment of his life, it was the first time his world was quiet, and he was alone. Sometimes he missed the quiet nights he spent in the Forest of Spirits, or the peaceful mornings on Mount Hylia, but he supposed it was the price for being King.

He only hoped Zelda would at least get those quiet moments when she became queen.

Almost on instinct, he sent a prayer to Hylia, something he did so often during the calamity. He prayed that Zelda would not have to suffer the same way he did, that she would be safe, and that she would be a powerful queen to her people. The prayer was quick, but it filled him with some peace. The goddesses did well watching over her after all.

It didn’t take long for the group to reach the cabin, and Rhoam quickly refocused his attention on the task at hand. It was silent save for the rustle of leaves on the trees, and the cabin seemed strangely empty. He walked up to the door and let out a sigh, knocking on it three times.

“Impa,” he called out, opening the door, “it’s King Rhoam, I—”

Rhoam stopped when he peeked inside the room. It was messy in the cabin, with some papers scattered about and random decorations on the table and dressers. But at the end of the table, he found a large man clad in red, with a mask covering his face.

“Kohga?” Rhoam blurted out, stepping into the room fully. Ammon quickly squeezed past Rhoam, putting himself in front of the king protectively.

“That’s Master Kohga to you, thank you very much,” the Yiga clan leader corrected, leaning against the chair casually. “About time you’d get here, you sure kept me waiting.”

Rhoam stared for a moment, blinking at him in disbelief. “You—did you send the message?”

Kohga took out a Sheikah slate, waving it around. “Yes.”

Fury bubbled within Rhoam. Of course. Goddesses of course this would happen to him. Amongst the catastrophe that is the gloom, of course something would happen that would waste his time.

“I don’t believe this,” he muttered, spinning around and leaving the cabin abruptly.

“W-wait! Your Highness–” Kohga suddenly appeared right in front of Rhoam, smoke and talismans fluttering in the king’s face. “You came all this way and now you’re gonna leave—”

“I don’t have time for your pranks, Kohga,” Rhoam snapped, “I’m going back to the castle.”

“Hold on!” Kogha put his hands on Rhoam’s shoulders to stop him from walking, but a smack from Orman’s spear made them draw back. Ammon once again put himself between the two despite being half their size, and Kohga finally backed away with an annoyed huff.

“What do you want, Kohga?” Rhoam finally asked, fury apparent in his voice. “How did you get Impa’s Sheikah slate? Did you steal it from her?”

“No no no!” Kohga denied. “I would never steal from Impa! Maybe if it was Link or someone else, yes I would, but I would never steal from Impa—”

“Then why do you have her Sheikah slate? Where is she?”

“She’s fine. She’s with her sister right now, calm down. I just needed her slate so I could message you,” Kogha poked Rhoam in the chest harshly, and the king’s glare deepened. “Y’see, I found something on this plateau that requires the king’s attention. Obviously.”

“Why didn’t you just request an audience with me?” Rhoam asked, watching as Kohga began pacing in front of him.

“Oh come on, that would’ve taken weeks! You’re a popular guy, you know that? And besides, why would anyone let me, the master of the Yiga, into the castle? Think about it,” Kohga glanced down at Ammon. “Short-stack right here would’ve gutted me alive.”

Rhoam sighed and put his hand on Ammon’s shoulder to calm him, and he stepped closer to Kohga. “Alright. What is so important that you took a classified piece of technology from my daughter’s advisor to contact me?”

Kohga was suddenly at his side, his arm wrapped tightly around his shoulder. “Well I’m glad you asked, ‘ol Rhoam-y boy.”

Rhoam pulled away and glared at him. “Don’t call me that. And stop touching me.”

Kohga ignored him and pointed back to the north. “The Forest of Spirits! That’s where I need to show you!”

Rhoam groaned, rubbing his aching head. “ And why didn’t you just ask me to meet you there?”

“Because I need to exercise my legs. Now come on, Rhoam-y boy!”

Rhoam only watched as Kohga ran ahead, who was already losing his breath.

“Are you seriously going to humor this guy?” Orman asked as he walked up next to Rhoam. The king only sighed. He knew better than to trust the Yiga; they helped save the kingdom, which couldn’t be ignored, but it didn’t erase the things they did in the past. Admittedly, he didn’t know if he could trust Kohga, but his daughter trusted him… so…

“Maybe he does have something important to show me,” Rhoam simply answered, not wanting to argue further, and he began to walk to Kohga who was panting for air. He heard his guards’ footsteps behind him, but they sounded reluctant as they crunched the dead leaves beneath them.

Rhoam made sure to keep his distance from Kohga as they walked, which wasn’t very easy seeing how the man could barely run. Though Rhoam couldn’t judge him too much, since he found himself out of breath as they walked up a few slopes.

It felt like hours until the group finally reached the Forest of Spirits, time feeling like it was being thrown away the longer they took. The more he walked, the more anxious he felt, and he couldn’t help but eye the trees around him. Kohga was rambling ahead of them, talking about walking trees, cave monsters, and Talus’s with bokoblins making camp on them. Absurd things no doubt, and Rhoam couldn’t tell if it had anything to do with what he was going to show him, but he chose to ignore him anyways. After a few minutes of walking through the woods, Rhoam finally stopped, his patience growing thin.

“Kohga, where in these woods are we headed to?”

Kohga stopped and turned around, his hand on his chest as if he were offended. “Patience Rhoam-y boy, goddesses.”

“I told you to stop calling me that—”

“A-HA!” Over there!” Kohga suddenly shouted, sprinting to the north of the plateau. Rhoam only glanced back at his guards, who gave him uncomfortable looks. The group jogged to keep up with Kohga, who went back to rambling.

“You see, I was walking around these woods… where I found a strange structure built by nature,” he panted in between breaths, turning his head back occasionally. “It’s not actually in the woods, but it’s closeby. A strange structure that may mean something important!”

It was clear that Kohga was amping up the dramatics, but Rhoam couldn’t tell if it was because the Yiga leader was just a dramatic person, or if he was being genuine. He just prayed that this wasn’t a waste of time. Kohga suddenly sprinted ahead and ran out of the trees, continuing to ramble as Rhoam pumped his legs to keep up.

“Personally I think it’s truly a piece of art, but I had to see what the king would say if he were to see it—”

Kohga abruptly stopped, and Rhoam rammed right into his back. He peeled himself away from the man, huffing as he straightened his beard. Kohga only shuffled his feet as if nothing happened, growing noticeably uncomfortable.

“Uh-oh.”

Rhoam frowned at the strange behavior Kohga was now exhibiting, and he moved to his side.

“What are you—” Rhoam began to ask, but he turned his head to see what Kohga was staring at, and dread sank into his stomach.

Gloom. Gloom that covered the cobblestones and grass in large puddles, gloom that covered the shrine, turning the ethereal blue light into a sick red, gloom that was a mist coming out of the ground around the shrine.

No.

It was spreading.

The silence was heavy as Rhoam stepped ahead, staring at the puddles of gloom that was scattered across the ground. He felt his throat close up as he got closer to one, nausea assaulting his stomach. Goddesses, it was spreading. It was no longer in Castle town, it was on the Great Plateau.

Where else had it spread? How far would it go?

“Well, this is not what I wanted to show you,” Kohga suddenly spoke up, staring at the ground around him. “This uh… wasn’t here an hour ago.”

Rhoam turned to stare at Kohga, his brows pinched together. It was spreading fast, it seemed. Goddesses…. What could he do? There wasn’t a cure from gloom poisoning, there wasn’t a way to remove the gloom, he felt… helpless.

Except…

Beneath the Castle…

Of course—of course, how could he be so foolish?

Zelda was right. It seemed the only way to deal with the gloom was to explore where it was forbidden. They needed to get down there, to find answers…. Maybe there was a way to remove the horrid gloom. Maybe there was a way to save the kingdom once again. The king found himself by the shrine, the panel flickering as gloom covered most of it. He still felt a strong sense of dread, but he had to push it away, they needed to act now.

“King Rhoam?” Orman called out. He was across the pond where Rhoam stood, with Ammon and Kohga further back. Rhoam took a deep breath and nodded at his guard, pushing the ill feelings back to make way for the motivation.

“We’re going back to the castle, and we’re going to explore deep into its depths,” he explained simply. “Zelda is right, the answer to this gloom may be down there. We cannot dawdle any longer.” He turned back to the shrine, staring at the gloom infecting it. “This gloom will spread further throughout the kingdom. We must stop it before it gets to that point.”

“Well it’s a good thing I did call for you then, huh?” Kohga called out, but Rhoam glared at him. He truthfully didn’t want to admit that whatever Kohga had planned was actually useful, and he simply turned to look at his guards.

“Let’s head back to the castle so we can—”

A sudden heave of the earth cut him off, and he fell back onto the panel of the shrine. His vision went white for a moment as his head smacked the panel, and his hand planted itself onto a gloom puddle. The strange sensation of the gloom beginning to worm its way into him caused him to flinch back, and he sat up away from the horrid substance. His head was aching worse than before, his hands felt numb, but from what he felt he wasn’t actually poisoned with gloom to his relief. When he glanced to see if the others were alright, he saw that Kohga was still standing, though looking confused, while his guards were on the ground. Rhoam attempted to scramble to his feet, but the earth heaved again, this time shaking violently. Dust flew into his eyes, immediately blinding him, and he covered his face with his sleeve. The earth roared around him, the sound of shaking trees, rocks, and the shrine flooding his ears, so much so he could barely hear his guards shouting for him. The king grabbed onto the shrine behind him, pulling himself up, but his hand once again touched the gloom covering the shrine. Dread clenched his heart, and he pulled away, only to fall back to the ground. He looked up again to see his guards sprawled out on the ground, Kohga missing, and rocks falling out of the sky.

“Oh goddesses,” he prayed, watching in horror as he spotted figures of islands in the clouds appearing as rocks fell from them, being trailed by a mysterious green light. Many of the rocks fell around them, which made the shaking worse for them. They were unsafe here and they needed to get away. Somehow.

“A-Ammon! Orman!” He called out, scrambling to his feet so he could meet with his guards. “We need to get out of h—”

Before he could finish, a loud crack from the ground interrupted him, and the ground suddenly gave way. Rhoam could only gasp as he fell backwards, plunging into darkness, with the light of the world growing smaller and smaller.

[kanene-yaaay]

He started it!

Kanene's notes: I think my brain is no longer able to grasp what a 'quick, small fic' is kjhgfdfghjjhgvjhgf somebody this was supposed to be just a small drabble but the cuteness broke me. Somebody save me from the Dogday brain rot please somebody save me...

But anyway! Can't say when I will be able to post again, college just started and so my days are going to be very full :') Still! Hope you all like this!

Warnings: Plenty of raspberries, nibbles and teasy nicknames. Around 3,500 words. Ticklish!Dogday and Ler!Reader. Other than that, nothing, this is pure tooth-rooting fluff. Rip da boi. Also! Once again, I'm obsessed w Felix's writing style where the dialogues and narration are mingled together so all the hugs and thank you's to her :D

[~*~]

Dogday had started it.

Of course it was him. Just like a ray of sunshine, your own personal star, shining and chasing the dark shadows away, he did and now there was no other way this could’ve played out. 

“A-angel, please!” His voice glitched, getting lower at the end of his plea, however immediately growing higher again as giggles began filling the space, crackling and buzzing in both despair and delight. “Think about what you’re about to do!”

You hummed and smiled at his squeal, fond and sweet and absolutely devilishly as you remembered how this entire game began.

Every single corner of this factory was dangerous. Even so, there were hostile places where any kind of sound, whisper or even a poorly suppressed gasp could attract the worst kind of attention and immediately break in pieces the fragile peace that warily followed you and Dogday in your path. At the time, you both had been walking through one of these areas for far too long, bathed by complete silence, careful to keep your steps silent and with an alerted kind of tension clinging to your form with each passing second. 

That was when, for some reason, Dogday decided that enough was enough. It was his moment to shine.

Where even did the idea come from? Has he been bored?  

“You just seemed so stressed!” His tail was wagging so much you could feel the wind it created hitting your legs. An involuntary coo left your mouth at the playful, a tad proud glint in his eyes, which only made his smile bigger and loopier. He tried to tug his hands away to hide his face. Needless to say, it was an unsuccessful attempt. “No, no, no! Don’t!”

Anyway, it had been confusing at first. When the giant sentient toy turned in your direction, making fingerguns with his paws and pretending to be firing at something, you immediately spun around in a quick and swift movement, grabpack and firing hand ready to attack pointing in the same direction as him, eyes searching for the danger he was gesturing. 

… Stopping to think, he did almost laugh at you that moment, didn’t he? You bet that if you both didn’t have to conceal any and every sound his crackles would’ve rang free and joyfully across the whole factory. 

You took an exaggerated deep breath and blew slowly in a faux disappointment, feeling his muscles under you tense and shake with barely concealed titters, a tiny protesting half whine and half plea flying around, his torso squirming.

(Away or closer to the sensations? Both of you knew the answer very well.)

Tsk. You hummed again, only to hear that adorable squeal once more. It took everything to not let him go and dig, to listen those high pitched squeals over and over again and see how many of them you could collect, letting them dance in harmony with his glitching laughter and rumbling chuckles until happiness and joy were the only thing filling his mind and actions, until his smile were wide enough to light up the dark pathway ahead and each tiny, almost imperceptive wiggle, scribble or twitch of your fingers was followed by the lovely, lovely melody of his tickly delight, prompting more and more expectant titters and pleas without you even having to lay a single finger on him.

But the game couldn’t be over so soon. And it was quite fun to see how much giggles you could get even though you weren’t actually doing anything.

(Yet.)

So you pushed down the adoring smile that tried (again) to take over your features and let it morph into a sad expression, slowly shaking your head in a fake disappointment.

Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. Such a good friend and he almost laughed at you like that… After everything you both have been through, after all the fights and the talks, the hugs and the vents… You see how that is.

“P-please! Angel, just, please!”

No. Nuh-uh. You went back to your previous position, shoving your face in that soft fur. Don’t start with the sugarily sweet nicknames. You were brooding. Moping. Sad. Devastated. Betrayed. In absolute and total pain. There was no angel available right now, please return later.

His only answer was a series of even more glitched squeaks and titters growing stronger and giddier at any second with your silliness, especially when his body involuntarily jumped, already in alert for any attack and still not doing anything to scramble away. 

That could be your fault, but in your humble opinion, it wasn’t very clear. Okay, maybe he couldn’t just bring himself to stop and stand still when you kept using every opportunity to nuzzle and mumble on his belly non stop, easily following his torso and quivering stomach around as he wiggled and squirmed in the same place, trying with all his might to not lose himself already with all the ticklish shocks that bolted across his entire midriff with such a simple action. Words (and teases) continue to fall like waves from your lips.

Maybe he just had been bitten by an awful ticklybug! Who would know?

“There is no tick-” Dogday gasped and snickered when you blew air against his fur again, freezing for a second in preparation for a raspberry that didn’t come. Realizing that, he let his head fall on the floor and trashed even more. He tugged his arms again, playfully growling when you kept your hold firm on them and wiggling even more as he turned to stare back at you, a funny kind of energy and antecipation racing each other in his nerves. “There is no ticklebug! It’s you!!”

Oh well. 

A pity.

Anyway. Back to the story. That had been how everything began. He later explained his idea for the game, when you were able to exchange words again. From that moment, in total random occasions, one of you would make a gesture in the other’s direction and they would have to quickly react to it. In the most silly and unexpected way, preferentially, as long as you didn’t make any sound while at that.

See, Dogday? No sound.

He yapped in protest, letting out a single surprised, an offended yelp at the accusation. “We don’t need to be quiet here. You’re just teasing me!” Dogday’s hands fell to his sides, no longer trying to pry you away, shoulders shaking with every giggle and eyes watching your every action with joy and expectation. 

You keep going.

The playful exchange became a habit between you two at this point, even filling the moments you didn’t exactly need to be quiet. It was a nice way to interact when there were no more words, memories or promises to be exchanged. That is why Dogday didn’t even bat an eye at you when you called his attention by innocently offering both of your hands in his direction, tail lightly wagging as he immediately placed his own paws on yours, a fun, tiny grin appearing on his previously serious and protective expression when you intertwined your fingers.

Which quickly morphed to a wide stare when you locked your grip and jumped on him, bringing both of you to the ground.

So, yeah, Dogday was the one who started it. And now he was trying to shoot his shot again, pulling out the saddest, sweetest puppy eyes in your direction. 

“Angeel, please. Mercy!”

Awww.

(That was a bit adorable, you couldn’t lie. It kind of melted your heart. Just a tiny, little bit.)

(Ok. A lot.)

But that was the thing, Dogday, you were being merciful already. Because if your hands were free, you would give him the entire special attack. You would just claw and knead on that cute, truly adorable tummy, taking some precious time to give your attention to his sides and all the scribbles and scratches to his ribs, being sure to go and tickle aaaall of his favorite, ticklish spots over and over and over again, for as long as he wanted. 

Wouldn’t that be nice? And, of course, during this your hands would be very, very busy, so he would have to keep his arms nice and snug out of the way. But he could do this for you, right? Even if he was laughing and squirming and crackling his heart out, not even pretending to not love every single moment of this game, or that he wanted it to be over any moment soon. 

“Eek! Wait, wait!” 

You grinned. See? That was what not being merciful would be. But, stopping to think, those are not bad ideas at all. He really couldn’t stop getting any more adorable, could he?

“Sweetheart!” He squeaked and shook his head, partially in a way to disperse all the restless energy taking over his body and partially in a hopeless attempt to make his big ears cover his flaming face.

Oh. 

(It was quite endearing, actually, how he didn’t exactly blush. His smile would get wobblier and the light in his eyes fuzzy and lightly trembling all while he couldn’t decided if he tried to hide his face or kept staring at you with a gaze so full of complete trust, an excited desperation conquering all his features… Honestly it was just as crystal clear as if his face got completely taken over by a strong shade of red, truly.)

Your entire demeanor softened. That nickname was a new one.

(You wouldn’t mind listening to it being giggled out like this again in the future.)

You decided to return the favor.

Yes, gigglebug?

For a piece of time, Dogday froze with wide eyes and a slight ‘bzzz’ sound escaped from his voicebox. Then his squirming grew anew, no longer being able to look at your soft gaze and trying to press his dazzling, gigantic smile on his shoulders, now with his entire body bouncing with barely suppressed snickers.

His tail hit the floor with an endless and quick pace of ‘thump thumpthumpthump’. The confusion in your expression immediately gave place to a wicked smirk.

Hm.

Gigglebug?

He jolted with a yelp.

Silly giggly gigglebug?

Dogday snorts and tries to pry his hands away from yours with a bit more energy than before. Still, his efforts were still half heartedly at best. In turn you just hold them a bit tighter, thumbs lightly rubbing the back of his paws as your tipped your head to the side, - not unlike he himself watched you from time to time - chasing his gaze and maybe or maybe not giving his belly a tiny - so quick and small that it was over in less a blink - nibble until he turned back to watch you with wide fuzzy eyes.

Nope. No hiding that beautiful smile, huh?

His ears perked a little bit and his wide eyes captured yours for a moment, then jumped to your kind hands, your amused, playful glare, his defenseless belly, his captured paws, your suspecting eyes and, eventually, your eyes again.

Then, without breaking contant, he shut his mouth, firmly pressing his lips in a tight line as he lowered his head to his shoulder, successfully hiding, indeed, that beautiful smile.

Ah.

You see how that is.

Dogdayy ~

He let out a muffled giggle, only pressing his face even more on his shoulder, turning away from you.

Well, since he was insisting so much…

You discreetly adjusted your position, took a deep breath and immediately attacked his lower belly.

His entire torso spasmed, almost throwing you out of him with the sudden move, a loud peal of laughter instantly filling the air as the horrible, awfully ticklish vibrations fuelled his trashing, the raspberry spreading across every single of his nerves, leaving each and every one of them tingling and buzzing.

Another deep breath. Another long, long raspberry and a crackling squeal was ripped from his voicebox, more and more following suit as you chased every sensitive path of fur non stop, not losing a single opportunity to shake your head to increase the sensations, giggling a bit at how that never failed to glitch his words and bring more squeaks to the lovely melody of his laughter.

You spared a couple of tiny raspberries for his sides, literally feeling how they made him arch his back. That only gave you even more access to plenty of sensitive, ticklish spots that you were more than happy to latch on and tickle as if the future safety of the entire world depended on sending him to a total madness and increasing your collection of “cute-sounds-that-Dogday-does”.

You experimentally began nibbling that spot that connected his back and side, right below his belt, if you were not mistaken this would…

Snorts took over the giant toy and in a blink his back immediately clued back on the floor, torso trying and failing in curling into a defensive ball. The new round of raspberries vibrated across his side and teased his entire ribcage, tickling each bone and nerve. 

Dogday tried to muffle his reactions on his shoulder, but with each nibble, each raspberry, tease and nuzzle he felt his mind getting more and more overpowered by the realization that it tickled. It tickled so, so, so much and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Not when his face seemed to be set aflame and his entire body kept getting closer and closer from giving up completely from his squirms and wiggles to let himself succumb to the joyful, insane, funny and fun sensation. Not when his angel kept looking at him with so much amusement and fondness that only succeeded to make him feel even more ticklish and the fact that his giggles weren’t the only ones filling the room made him feel extra silly and made his heart melt with delight. When he was able to just laugh and squeal his heart out, carefree and loud and happy.

How could anyone blame him, then, when he saw with the corner of his eyes you lift your head and so he decided to push his luck more, continuing to hide his big, gigantic, loopy smile.

Ohoho.

So, your dear gigglebug was trying to keep all those sweet reactions away from you, even after you worked so hard for every single one of them? Now, that really wasn’t fair, was it?

You gave him a break, no longer tickling him. Still, having your voice so close made his torso instinctively try to wiggle away, which in itself seemed to only re-alight all the reminiscent tingling on his skin, making the tickly sensation it go back to buzz and dance on his nerves, increasing the phantom tickles, each passing second and taunting word making them feel worse than before. All of this only kept Dogday stuck into an infinite sea of unstoppable, hysterical titters and snickers.

Do you think this is fair at all, gigglebug? 

He shook his head and stopped, then nodded and then shook it again, giving you a glimpse of shiny eyes for a second before it disappeared once more on his fur.

Well, you think this isn’t fair at all. But that is fine. You both can stay here all day long if needed, as long it takes until you get to see that beautiful blushy face and dazzling smile. Yep. That sounds like a good, no, perfect idea! He would love this, right? To keep giggling and laughing and squealing here while being tickled silly forever and ever? 

“Sweheheart!”

Oh! You wonder who said that! It sounded like your dear friend Dogday, but it couldn’t be him, right? No, not really. He was too busy hiding away from his best friend, as it seems.

Aw, that was a pity, truly. He was such a kind, awesome presence in your life. With a personality able to brighten everyone’s life and a trustful companion that was incredibly kind and strong. Always ready to help without a second thought or a blink of an eye, to give a hand, a comforting hug or a remark that would bring you straight to reality. 

Besides, he was kind of cute, too. Like a sweet, excited puppy. He had this loud, booming laughter that, when you got him laughing for long enough, started to descend into a series of crackles that never failed to make him snort and bounce around in joy until his voice box began to glitch in the most endearing and funny way. 

“No more teasing! No more!” Dogday’s titters grew to hysterical high pitched giggles and he scrunched up his neck, trying to best to curl up and disappear as more and more heat spread across his face. His tail would make a hole into the factory’s ground at this rate.

See? It was the most adorably adorable thing, honestly. 

Actually…

You adjusted yourself again and his bubbly giggles developed to chuckles, paws tugging from your grip once again. He knew very well what that tune of yours meant.

You kind of missed listening to his laughter…

And so, with a swift move you freed your hands, fastly shoving them on Dogday’s armpits before he could even react. 

Without wasting a single second, you digged.

A shriek took over every other sound in the place. And then other as you pushed your face right in the middle of his tummy, nibbling and pressing raspberries on it without mercy all while your fingers scratched, scribbled and drummed on his pits with no abandon, nimble fingers dancing on the spot for a few minutes before jumping to other one, to prevent him to get used to the sensation.

Dogday just fell limply on the floor, his shoulders, torso and belly shook with the force of his laughter, and his arms kept jumping from hiding his face to cluing on his sides in a futile attempt to stop the wiggling from worming their way, once more, to his ribs or neck. Each snort, squeal, yelp, snicker, crackle and every other sound swirled freely in the air, especially when a raspberry found a new sensitive spot that even he didn’t know about - since when his collarbone was so ticklish? - and focused all their attention there until all his cute and fun reactions slowed to a string of bubbly, hysterical giggles and his friend went on the look for another sweet tickle spot.

His neck, ribs, armpits, stomach, even his own ears had not been safe from the playful attack. A few pieces of time passed until it slowed to an incredible, horrible kind of soft tickling that led to a series of tittering sniggers to spill from his lips and to a beginning of tears to gather in the corner of his eyes.

At this point, his paws came and gently rested on your hands, engulfing them completely, glimmering eyes finding yours as the light scribbling instinctively squirm lazily from one side to other.

You stopped, entire form melting, the playful smirk plastered on your features losing the sharpness of its corners as a proud fondness took over. You freed one hand to caress the fur of his head, chuckling with drops of amusement and care when he closed his eyes and all his muscles relaxed completely at that, his tail now going back and forth in a tired but content wag. He nuzzled your hand. 

There is it. My beautiful smile.

He groaned, pulling his ears until they covered his face. “Angel… You’re ruthless.”

Hey, it’s not teasing if it’s true!

Another groan. He muttered something under his breath but didn’t shy away from your touch.

The silence fell like a soft blanket on you, bringing to that dark, horrible place a feeling of safety and care that used to be just a pointless, futile dream, before.

(This was nice. Safe.)

Suddenly, two paws flew like a blur of movement in your direction and you felt your entire world tumble and turn upside down. 

You blinked and as your eyes focused, only to find a giant sentient toy who resembled a dog and slowly became your trustful companionship on the last days (hours?) in this factory. Someone you knew that would be right by your side and fight for your safety almost as much as you fought for his.

Although, by the way his mischievous gaze found yours and big arms embraced you in a firm, but still gentle, hug, you must admit you weren’t feeling that safe anymore.

…Dogday?

“No. You’re in friend hug jail. Paying for your friend crimes. You can’t get out.”

You snorted. Glad that you had the sense to start that playful game in the safe area you and Dogday had been clearing and taking care for some time since the ‘You Got To Be a Human and Rest’ episode.

Getting comfortable, you let out a relaxed sigh, snuggling closer, letting your hand softly run on his back in a soft, nice rhythm, not taking too long to feel him melting under the caring touch. 

Well, you may be in jail, but your consciousness was clear.

Dogday had started it.

[tunastime]

CLASSIFIED

HASA Interspace Investigation Coalition Investigator Reassessment Team

For: the Mission Critical Event Occurring on Stardate 2104.119

Stardate: 2104.123, Location: HCS Influence

Responses recorded using the Automated Question and Answer System (AQNA) aboard the HCS Influence.

Recorded responses enclosed.

Begin transcribed data.

Interview for: IIC Employee #7717

Stated Name: Hels

SESSION BEGIN

AQNA [Generated Text Question]: Please explain the events of [stardate 2104.119]. Subject (Hels) [Recorded Verbal Response]: Well that’s an easy question. We got ambushed, that's what f—ing happened. It was supposed to be a standard datum extraction from a site that was supposed to be abandoned, because nobody decided it would be a good idea to check again. So we got ambushed mid-mission. That's what happened. AQNA: Can you elaborate on the event that triggered the call-back sequence? Hels: What, you want me to draw you a diagram? [No AQNA Text Question Generated] Hels: So no diagram? [No AQNA Text Question Generated] Hels: The drop-squad successfully made ground contact after about half an hour of survey on our end. We assumed based off of initial information and our scans, that the site was uninhabited. I mean—it’s a decommissioned testing facility for something way more boring than what we’re usually sent for. Why the f— would there be… things living there. Things. They weren’t human. They weren’t me either. We triggered the call-back sequence because I watched everything go white so fast I thought I was seeing the inside of my skull. Ex is the only reason I got out alive. I’m sure he’s… thrilled. AQNA: Were you unable to retrieve the body and equipment of [#7716]? Hels: I didn’t see him. On account of the pulse grenade. Did you watch the footage, or should I be playing narrator? [No AQNA Text Question Generated] Hels: I don’t know where he is. I don’t know what they did to him. We lost all his vitals when the pulse fried our equipment at the site.  Interviewer: Can you elaborate on the status of [#7716]? Hels: What do you mean elaborate? What—he’s probably dead. Is that what you want to hear? He’s f—ing dead. He’s dead, you piece of shit machine. Go ask somebody else what they think. [No AQNA Text Question Generated] Interviewer: Can you speak to [#6763]’s competence as potential squadron leader? [No verbal recorded response available]

SESSION END

Interview for: IIC Employee #6763

Stated Name: Exania

SESSION BEGIN

AQNA [Generated Text Question]:  Please explain the events of [stardate 2104.119]. Subject (Exania) [Recorded Verbal Response]: We failed to complete our extraction procedure. I was able to reach the data site within an hour of touchdown, alongside the rest of the team. We successfully retrieved the abandoned facility data within our allotted time frame, but on the way back to extraction, we were ambushed and caught in the line of fire of the inhabitants that had taken over the facility. I was able to successfully extract the bridge crew and one other member of the drop-squad. AQNA: Can you elaborate on the events that triggered the call-back sequence? Exania: We were attacked? Someone started shooting. Someone threw a magnetizer and a pulse grenade. The two other drop-squad members took a majority of the flash, but it was bright. Everywhere was... painfully bright. I don't have much more to say on that. I just acted in the best interest of the team as second in command. AQNA: Were you unable to retrieve the body and equipment of [#7716]? Exania: He’s dead. What did you want us to do? Retrieve a handful of charred up equipment? I don’t think so. AQNA: Can you elaborate on the status of [#7716]? Exania: He’s dead. That’s it. AQNA: Can you speak to [#7717]’s competence as potential squadron leader? Exania: #7717? I can't.  AQNA: Can you elaborate? Exania: I can't. AQNA: Can't? Or won't? Exania: Does it matter? [No AQNA Text Question Generated] AQNA: Please elaborate on your specific involvement with the events of [stardate 2104.119]. Exania: I successfully extracted information from the facility on [REDACTED]. I successfully extracted my drop member #7717, Hels. We were unsuccessful at a full extraction of the entire crew. Look, did I not just say all of this? What's not clicking for you? I know you're just recording this answer looking for keywords. I'm not daft. I think we’re done. AQNA: You're excused. Exania: Thank you.

SESSION END

Interview for: IIC Employee #7716

Given Name: Wels

SESSION BEGIN

AQNA [Generated Text Question]: Please explain the events of [stardate 2104.119]. [No verbal recorded response available] [No AQNA Text Question Generated]

END SESSION

[s-ccaam-era-crepe]

im so in love like. woah have you guys done this whole being in love thing before because its Crazy

[cynicalmusings]

he occasionally flirts and proud of it.

his way of flirt is so smooth that we don't even have the time to react.

why does he look so glowing in the event? is it the impact of not seeing him for more than a year?

(still heizou)

he is one of the smoothest flirts known to mankind, yeah. you’re just having a conversation and then he says… something, which completely stuns you and sends you reeling, either in its shamelessness or genuineness, and he carries on as if it’s nothing while you’re left questioning whether you imagined it or not.

and it’s worth remembering that just because he flirts and compliments a lot doesn’t mean those comments lose any value over time. it might look like he’s simply being a sweet-talker for his lover, but everything he says, he absolutely believes to be true; he’s not one to flatter somebody for the sake of flattery. and so the reason he flirts and compliments as much as he does is simply because he sees that much goodness in his lover, and archons be damned if they don’t know how much he admires them.

and that last note about the event… literally. 100%. could not agree more. he’s, like… actually beautiful? stunning? gorgeous? i look at him admittedly quite a lot when playing genshin, so there hasn’t been an absence of seeing him in-game on my part, but you’re absolutely right about him somehow being so radiant in the event. like. he’s actually so pretty. how. why. and more importantly, why has it been almost a year and a half since we experienced this radiance, hoyoverse?

[grailknightmonty]

it starts and ends in a garden.

i keep coming back to the good omens mianite AU so have a funky little illustration :] I just. I just love them a lot

Ref + what story I've thought about below the cut!

(Spoilers for Good Omens S1 and S2 ahead, be wary if you haven't watched and wanna get into it without prior knowledge)

At its core, this AU is basically good omens but with the cast of Mianite, with a few revisions to tie it a little into the mcytverse (while also not like compromising the integrity of the show version of the story) I got inspired by AdamMonter's AU and decided I wanted to give it a go myself after i watched S2 and reawakened my fixation :D

Jordan is this universes Aziraphale- the angel stationed to guard Eden and look out for humans (intended to instill in them the ways of goodness through righteous balance and justice in the name of the High Goddess) - and Tom is Crowley, or the snake in within the Garden, sent up to cause chaos and tempt humans towards evil shenanigans in the name of Dianite, or the devil in this case. They stand on two opposing sides of whats meant to be an all out war between Heaven (under Ianite) and Hell (by Dianite) on whether Ianites form of order (borrowing this from Aitheaca) or chaos will reign supreme- or basically the big ol apocalypse. I made Mianite the Metatron because idk what else to do with him mianite im sorry i didnt wanna make ianite the metatron if i swapped it even though it would make more sense for mia and dia to be fighting SOBS

Tom n Jordan grow close over their centuries on Earth together that when everythings meant to go down and destroy the world they've made their own, they fight to stop the apocalypse from happening, and by the end of it, are subsequently punished by their respective sides- only to not be affected and left alone when they seem to have absorbed the powers of the other (no one seems to realize they can swap bodies). Series 2 follows what they uncover by the end of it a plot to restart armageddon, in which they want Jordan to take over as the head of it after the former champion/supreme archangel is ousted for disagreeing- and had shown up with a non-existent memory nonexistent at Jordan's.

(im switching to list im done with prose xD)

Jordan runs an antique shop instead of a bookshop, he seems like he'd be more into little trinkets and old school machines, stuff he could tinker with. its still got that certain charm to it though

Capsize is Nina from the coffee shop (give me coffee or give me death seems like a thing Capsize would name something) and Sonja is Maggie who runs a record shop. aka the lesbians from across the street you know what I am

For something hilarious Tubbo is the Antichrist, aka the child meant to start and lead the War (leaving it as is bc its funny but not the literal antichrist) He's meant to join a government family to put him in a place of power, but due to a mix up ends up with an In the meantime, Tom and Jordan act as godfathers to the other child (who they assume is the antichrist, it would be funny to make this Crumb or something) in hopes that influencing them to good/evil respectively would neutralize them out- only to eventually realize its the wrong kid

Wag is Anathema, the descendent of a prophetic wizard who was scrutinized for their foresight and becomes the carrier of those prophecies (for my sanity ive chosen to get rid of the Newt-Anathema romance thing idk it. it just aaaa and turn into wag and his bros aka FyreUK tryin to use what they know to stop the apocalypse from their end)

Angels are Ianitees (save for Capsize), and Demons are Dianitees. Ive gone back n forth with who would be who and I still have no answer so. all I'll say is that Andor is Muriel thats all thats important /j C:

The other option was to make Satan the Darkness/World Historian and Dianite is the Lord of Hell (Beelzebub) with Mot as Gabriel but do i look like I know? idk do we need ineffable bureaucracy i could always alter that a little too... idk

tubbo as the child of the world historian who wouldve thought… edit what if like carrier of the darkness

anyway thats all enjoy this nonsense ;)

and screenshot I referenced for the drawing! I know its low qual dont worry about it i just needed to see where the trees were so i knew how many to paint LMAO

[thedreamerstoryteller]

SO HE LEARN TO KNOCK NEXT TIME

FROM THE STORY:

<<LI LIANHUA!>> Fang Duobing's clear voice echoed from outside the room.

Li Lianhua would have wanted to reply to him, telling him to wait but he couldn't. The door opened and Xiaobao stormed into the room without hesitation.

Li Lianhua saw him looked around, Fang Duobing's smile widened when their eyes met and faltered when he moved them beside him. The Sigu Sect Leader could see the exact moment his disciple realized his mistake. His eyes widened in shock and his cheeks reddened.

Li Lianhua stepped immediately in front of Di Feisheng while Fang Duobing covered his eyes with an hand and moved them away.

<<Ayo Xiaobao, how many times I told you...>> started Li Lianhua using his outer robe to cover his partner now behind him.

<<I'M SORRY!>> cut him off Xiaobao gesturing frenetically with his free hand. <<I didn't know he was here>> he added, his face was as red as a tomato.

IN OTHER WORDS:

Li Xiangyi has deal with his partner who does not care about anyone and anything but him and his impulsive young disciple who sometimes forgets to think before acting.

LINK:

[its-all-papaya]

anybody, nowhere (the playlist)

presenting the track listing for my landoscar debut! made some tough cuts to get her down to 20, but my ears open for additions

read the fic

1. Any Day Now // Trousdale

yeah, I'm so good at keeping track of the ways I've done wrong

2. Smoke Signals // WALK THE MOON

but oh, how can you see, how can you breathe in the smoke?

3. Second Guessing Games // Colony House

if only I could go where I wanna go to get where I need to be

4. Better // OneRepublic

think I lost my mind, but don't worry bout me; happens all the time, in the morning I'll be better

5. When The Nights Get Long // Jukebox The Ghost

what do you see when you're lit up next to me but you feel so far?

6. Please // Noah Kahan

maybe I'm desperate, or manic depressive, or maybe I need someone

7. False Confidence // Noah Kahan

all that's left of myself, holes in my false confidence

8. this is me trying // Taylor Swift

and maybe I don't quite know what to say but I'm here in your doorway

9. Deep Water // American Authors

when I'm sinking like a stone at least I know I'm not alone

10. cars // Wrabel

thank god there's cars going by outside, a little proof I'm still alive

11. Can't Look Back // Mat Kearney

there ain't no future in the past and you can't look back

12. on the way down // Wrabel

you know me better than I know myself, take the darkness and heal me from it

13. Somewhere Only We Know // Keane

I'm getting tired, and I need somewhere to begin

14. More to Give // Isabel Pless

and I feel like the worst if I'm not the best

15. Sweet Nothing // Taylor Swift

and the voices that implore "you should be doing more", to you I can admit that I’m just too soft for all of it

16. New Year's Day // Taylor Swift

I'll be there if you're the toast of the town, babe, or if you strike out and you're crawling home

17. Stargazing - Moonlight Version // Myles Smith

we were never strangers, you were right there all along

18. Maybe The Night // Ben&Ben

we follow the pull of fate into this moment

19. Your Bones // Chelsea Cutler

naked and afraid, they tell me that's when you know

20. Ride Home // Ben&Ben

you're all I need, the very air I breathe, you are home

[nerdish-nostalgia-revived]

"We are dealing with a maniac that is very dangerous."

"Oh, my Lord! What about Egg? Is she going to be alright?"

Hercule Poirot and Sir Charles having a brainstorming on the train.

[mo-nmage]

“See? The inn looks cozy and warm!” Callum pointed to the inn near them, Rayla glared at him and groaned in annoyance as she kept moving towards the small building. “Callum, I still believe this is a distraction-”

“You keep insisting that it's a distraction yet you continue to move towards the inn… you're giving me mixed signals here, Rayla” he teased as he continued moving forward. Callum being a few feet ahead of Rayla made him miss the small smile that formed on her lips as he teased her.

“sparks fly” on ao3 <3

[shorlinesorrows]

just got the time to start the sunshine court and I'm Vibrating out of my skin

[waterfallofspace]

I have finished The M/entalist, a tv show that ended 10 years ago, a show that I'm sure no one else cares about, but that I am about to make my whole personality for at least 2 weeks as I have hyperfixated on it so hard I can barely breathe

so uhhhhhhhh anyways if anyone knows this show take this as an open invitation, or if not then consider this a formal warning that i may be reblogging things and screaming "P/ATRICK J/ANE" in the tags <3