#mutedeyes

Send me a ❣ and I’ll gauge my character’s attraction to yours at this point in time                        

✦✦✦✧✧✧✧✧✧✧| Sexual Attraction✦✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧ | Romantic Attraction✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧ | Crushing✦✦✦✧✧✧✧✧✧✧| Squishing✦✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧ | Sensual Attraction✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✧✧| Aesthetic Attraction

Low ✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦ High

SEND ME THREE CHARACTERS AND I WILL ANSWER WHICH ONE I WOULD FUCK MARRY OR KILL

fuck: mutiemarry: dravekill: cici

again... i know cici is immortal so he could probably recoverits not because i hate him

SEND ME THREE CHARACTERS AND I WILL ANSWER WHICH ONE I WOULD FUCK MARRY OR KILL

fuck: princemarry: dravekill: mutie

> Take a deep breath. It’s not entirely familiar yet, but Mutie’s tickles something in the back of your mind. An old memory; one you’d forgotten; it’d hurt to dislodge it and you’re already hurting so much.

> You hear a faint whisper from behind you. You ignore it, grabbing a leaf of-- peppermint?-- from a basket of heavy-scented items you’d asked Mutie to fetch for you. After your nose is sufficiently burned from the raw smell, you put it back next to the garlic, a pepper, some cheese, a lemon, a vial of orange water. The whisper goes away, and blissfully, your heavy eyes slip closed.

This was a talk long overdue. 

Dirk knew that he had to do this, that he had to at least talk to Mutie to get his side, but that didn’t mean he stopped being angry at him for what he did. It was a something that Dirk had thought was going to happen, and he wnated to think that it wouldn’t have.. But here they are and it has happened. 

It had been a long time since he’d done something... domestic for someone. He’d given gifts before; fantastic gifts, spectacular gifts, ones that stretched the mortal imagination and give way to the reality of unreality; but when thinking of what to give an immortal man that had experienced so much on his own... his mind became a soft, milky blank. 

The reason he hadn’t reached out to Mutie immediately upon his re-awakening was not because he wanted to ignore him, far from it-- Aven had held his tongue in order to give a proper welcoming surprise. He knew Mutie was not alone, and had likely occupied his time very well in the man’s absence, but... he deserved something nice. Something to prove that he had been thought of, missed, even while out of sight.

It had come to him fleetingly; an idea he was at-first hesitant to act on. Mutie didn’t have people cook for him very often, did he? Perhaps, Aven had thought upon the realization, perhaps a home-cooked meal would prove some amount of dedication; an effort to impress, to apologize. He’d decided on it shortly after, not taking the time to second-guess himself. He had waited long enough to reveal himself again, and his omnipotence told him that Mutie was out of the house. With those factors combined; Mutie’s convenient errand and Aven’s determination; the man found himself inside of a familiar home with the intent to make a good, healthy meal for someone he’d missed.

Whether or not Mutie had the ingredients, Aven created his own, not willing to intrude upon Mutie’s shopping list. He fabricated the necessary parts for ma-po tofu and miso soup; for the sushi he knew Mutie loved, he simply willed a finely-arranged dish into being; they weren’t aromatic in the way soup and cooked meat were and thus he didn’t waste his time.

He worked with leisurely purpose, a plain apron draped across what could almost be considered casual-wear for the normally professional being: a sweater rolled up to the elbows, a collared shirt beneath it, and simple corduroy pants. He looked comfortable, at home, in his element; things he wanted Mutie to feel too, even if he saw a veritable stranger standing in his kitchen, cooking at his stove.