DOOMGUY JUST HAS A GOOD DAY

[requests are open!] call me mav! doom sideblog where i write a lot and give doomguy and vega a cat and make them happy. sometimes i write angst but i immediately fix it bc im weak. likes/replies from @northstarring :]

[moss-sauce]

comms sheet

Howdy! My name’s Maverick, and I finally got around to starting writing commissions! :] You can find examples of my works on ao3 (user: ivararara). I can do both original writing with original characters or for fandoms. Current price is $0.02 (2 cents USD) per word, up to 2,500 words. Prices...

um um um so i’m doing writing commissions now. 

[catcodemon]

[ao3 link]

uh oh! she got a cold and her boys are lowkey panicking

‘You don’t think that she--’

“Of course not, dear.” Vega assures him. “She has fallen ill with what you call a ‘cold’. She has a stuffy nose and a cough. She’s not…dying.” He hopes he’s using the right terms, here. He’d only ever heard of the UAC members talk of such ‘colds’ before. It seemed to be an illness not too severe, but often played up to sound so as to earn a day off of work. “I recall UAC workers talking of such an illness. It appeared rather minor, but was exaggerated to a great degree. That’s likely what she’s doing, too.”

Inky flicks an ear in their direction, but doesn’t open her eyes. It’s obvious that she’s listening in. Her breathing is barely audible and would be completely silent were it not for the slight rasp in her chest. Vega knew cats were considered dramatic creatures. He hadn’t understood to what degree the statement went until now.

Slayer still looks unconvinced. His brows are furrowed and his face is tense, belying the composed façade he’s trying to put on. Belatedly, he holds his hand out and wiggles his fingers enticingly.

Inky responds hoarsely, rumbling out a pleased sound and standing. He’s at least soothed by the fact that she’s still active. If something truly was wrong, she wouldn’t be up and moving. She still curls her tail at the tip; she still moves rather silently; she still hops up on the bed and assumes her rightful position in the Slayer’s lap.

Even yet, he looks concerned. Vega assumes that now that she’s close, the rasp of her breathing is more noticeable. He watches as the marine gently strokes down her back, making her arch into the touch happily. His face is still furrowed in worry.

Inky seems to know how to soothe him. She sits up in her lap, does a luxurious stretch (there’s no way she had gotten that comfortable in less than a minute, right?), and raises herself up to bump the Slayer’s chin with her head. It seems to work at making him relax as the tension visibly leaves him. As he slumps over further, Inky takes to crawling up his torso to reach his head. She rather sternly licks a few rogue strands of hair back into place before butting her head with the Slayer’s rather forcefully.

The Slayer hums a laugh. Vega feels his metaphorical heart swell: at least she knows how to comfort the other, even when Vega fails to himself.

[catcodemon]

i am SO sorry for kinda bailing like that but a lotta stuff was going on [like writing my first ever longfic, which also involves kitties!!] but i just went back through my unfinished fics in my doomvega folder and i feel ReEnergized. i will do my best to chug something out. i love yous

[catcodemon]

https://discord.gg/MsxSHfP68E come for Inky

[ohthehorrorsawait]

i’ll finish it at some point, but here’s the sketch for now!!!!!! the bg is super rough pay no mind to it pl dg has a nice bday at the greenhouse with vega and inky, however she doesn’t seem too happy at being subjected to such an embarrassing hat…

[catcodemon]

HOW DID I MISS THIS...........IM SITTING IN CLASS WAITING FOR THE PROF AND NEARLY TEARING UP AT LITTLE INKY TOEBEANS.......BLESSWD

[catcodemon]

i think. i will make a discord for inky and doomvrga when I get home

[1197575919679673-deactivated202]

@catcodemon Oh my god this was made this eons ago. I found it in my drafts. All hail Inky! I love your writing btw!

[catcodemon]

findn comfort withiIN a kitty kitty.....

[straycatj]

Kofuku's head is shaped just like a yuzu

!! what a strange truth!!

[pikkish]

thinking about how doomguy is not invincible or unfeeling. how he very very much reacts to pain. how in every single game, he gasps or grunts or cries out on being hit, how in the classic games the more damage you take, the more exhausted his sprite face looks, or how sometimes when you die, he'll scream in agony. how in 2016 and eternal when you're at low health, you can hear him breathing heavily, echoing in his helmet. It will never stop him, because that's sort of his whole deal, he is always faster, stronger, angrier. But that doesn't mean he doesn't feel it, doesn't mean he doesn't feel every ache and burn and cut and bruise he getsin every fight. He fights like hell, but nowhere did that ever say it didn't hurt like hell.

[catcodemon]

its ya boy, finally back at it

in short: i am very sory for taking so long with this

its abt.....butterflies

[ao3 link]

In his downtime, Vega knows the Slayer will do anything that lets him use his hands. Be it repairing and washing his armory, holding a book, or anything else: he had to have his hands full and busy. Vega considers that he has been a fairly good solution to the problem as of late--as it turns out, the Slayer was fascinated by gestures of affection including, but not limited to, little things like holding hands.

It’s no different than what he’s doing now. Vega watches from the corner of his vision as the marine idly tears snippets of paper out of an old notebook and fidgets with it. Inky sits in his lap, perfectly content with where she is and the fact that Vega doesn’t have to donate any additional thought to keeping his hand stroking her back.

For as large as the Slayer’s fingers are, they appear to be quite nimble. They fold and unfold the piece in oddly-specific ways. Maybe he isn’t just fiddling around with it. He might have an end goal. He’d heard of it before--origami, he recalls--the art of masterfully working fingers and paper to create three dimensional creations. It was quite entertaining to watch.

He’s snapped out of his sidetracking thoughts by the other tapping his foot against the floor to get Vega’s attention. When the AI looks over, he knows a grin would be splitting his face, were he to have one.

“What is that?” he peers closer. Inky looks up from her nap to look as well, trilling curiously. “You made it?”

Slayer nods. He pinches the tiny ‘wings’ between two fingers and holds it out to Vega. 

Carefully, Vega retrieves it. Upon looking closer, he recognizes it as one of the creatures that had roamed a formerly-untainted Earth.

“That’s a butterfly?” he asks, bemused. He turns the folded paper over in his hand, noting how specific the crafting is.

Preening--absolutely, no way around it, he’s preening--, the other nods. He’s already tearing another scrap off the page and working on a second one.

Vega sets the little butterfly on the desk in front of him as he watches the process. Inky stirs, going through a luxurious stretch before eyeing the desk.

Both Vega and the Slayer are so focused on the man’s work that neither of them notice Inky’s growing curiosity. It’s only when the paper butterfly swishes off the desktop and onto the floor between them that they look up.

Inky’s eyes are dilated, her pupils nearly eclipsing the irises. The tip of her tail flicks excitedly, and she sits heavily on her haunches as if stalking.

Vega stoops over and picks the paper back up, setting it pointedly back on the desk. In plain sight, Inky does it again. When he fetches it off the floor a second time, he keeps it out of her reach. His nimble fingers go through the motions of making the wings ‘flaps’ as if in flight.

By the time Slayer finishes the second one, they’re both gazing at the little creations adoringly. Slayer has one in his hand, while Vega has the first.

“Quite interesting,” Vega comments.

Slayer’s gaze turns mischievous. He turns away from Vega to flick the butterfly across the floor, chuffing when Inky launches after it. She scrabbles furiously on the smooth ground, finally catching it and, surprisingly, bringing it back.

He can’t help but laugh warmly.

[catcodemon]

[slippity slaps this down] i swear i’m not forgetting to do these, i just keep writing myself into corners and can’t figure out how to get out,, hopefully the next one is easier..

[ao3link]

For all he cares, he’s in Heaven--and it’s not as hellish and unsettling as Urdak.

    As comfortable as he is, he would be content with never moving again. Vega reclines against his shoulder, idly reading a datapad. His presence is a steady and solid weight that keeps the Slayer grounded. Meanwhile, Inky is curled up on his stomach, a faint purr rumbling through her while she works her front paws gently and carefully, kneading his shirt. The door to the room is closed, making the space comfortingly quiet.

    Eventually, Inky stirs. He feels her body tremble as she gives a tremendous stretch, eyeing the way even her toes get involved. He dares not to move--the last thing he wants right now is a cold spot to form where she had been.

    Unfortunately, that is exactly her intention. His head shifts to watch her slink down the blankets to the end of the bed, her paws making tiny indents in the sheets. She hops off the bed and lands with a muted thump! before continuing on her way. 

Vega looks up from his work to watch her as well. He hums. “She certainly has a way of telling time,” he comments, nudging the Slayer to show him the time on the datapad. “She’s hungry.”

He resists the urge to groan. Of all the fates that have been bestowed onto him, this is by far the worst. He debates being petulant and holding Vega down as the mech moves to leave his spot.

“Hush,” Vega teases, “you know it will only take a few sparse minutes. I’ll be back, as will she.” He pads towards the door as it swishes open, Inky taking the lead and immediately trotting down the hall to the main room. Vega looks back at him almost longingly as he stops at the door before following after her.  

[catcodemon]

do you also take requests/suggestions for the OTPtober prompts? 👀

HECK YEAH

[catcodemon]

MY PROMPTS BECAUSE I MAKE THE RULES HERE

Eye contact Pinky promise Saying goodbye Comforting one another Hands on hips Sleeping in Height differences Heartbeat Forehead kisses/bonks Long hugs hm maybe cuddling Holding hands Warm n cozy Innocence Princess carry Lazy morning Butterflies?? Rain Sleeping Nightmare Stars Patience Tired Smile...

@vaeri-art wanted to see my impromptu OTPtober prompts, so here they are!

[mutant-distraction]

[dem0nic-trash]

@catcodemon @northstarring INKY IN THIS FOR HALLOWEEN WHY DIDNT I THINK OF THIS

[catcodemon]

ok u know what i just made up my own otptober prompts. my rules now. maybe that’ll help stuff flow

[catcodemon]

yeah boy it’s OTPtober 2: pinky promise

this sumbitch threw hands at me and i was not ready, thus it taking so long

[ao3 link]

“Slayer, I beg of you,” Vega emphasizes, “be more careful.”

He’s met with a blank visor looking back at him. The Slayer’s head tilts to the side.

“You,” he points a finger at the man in front of him, “are not as expendable as you think yourself to be.” Vega’s arms cross over his chassis stubbornly. He does his best to glare. 

The Slayer pauses for a moment, before thunking a fist against the thick Praetor suit. It’s fine. I have protection!

“That is exactly what I am trying to convey. Your Praetor suit may protect you from most onslaughts and injuries, but what if--” Vega cuts off abruptly, inhaling to steady himself. “It would only take one instance of it not being enough,” he forces out evenly. 

    The Slayer’s demeanor changes entirely. His shoulders slump while he wrings his gauntleted hands together. Vega can tell he wants to say something, but is at a loss for words.

    He’s snapped out of his spiraling thoughts by the marine holding a gloved hand out. He watches as all the fingers but the last curl into a fist, the Slayer holding it out to him.

    Quickly, he runs through data. He’s heard of it before: a pinky promise. Something sealed with the threat of pain if broken. He scoffs. If the Slayer broke his promise of returning when needed, there’d be enough pain.

    Still, he obliges.

    His smallest finger is significantly minute compared to the Slayer’s. Awkwardly, he links them together and shakes. It does wonders to ease his nerves.

    “You do realize if you break this… ‘promise’, I have every intention of finding you and dragging you back here, Hell or high water. Understood?”

[catcodemon]

so very obviously i fell behind with OTPtober, but i DO wanna continue it, i’ve just not had any ideas.

may a homie request ideas for the prompt ‘pinky promise’