#cropped to be safe for tumble

[heesdreamer]

SILENCED

for my few silenced fans who still read it and love it as much as i did here’s the uncompleted next chapter before i took a big pause on it! Not a priority at the moment but thought I’d give it to you for being so patient

You’d grown used to the mundane things of the apocalypse, the simple day to day task and activities that kept you going.

Your hands didn’t get rigid and stiff every time you had to wash your clothes in the freezing rivers and your stomach didn’t turn after every unseasoned meal cooked over the camp fire. It wasn’t as simple as bringing in bags of groceries or carrying a loaded basket down to the laundromat but it was life, it was chores and it was simple and routine.

Even when you were doing it for seven, you didn’t exactly mind and it was the only few things that helped you clear your mind.

Sometimes it was Sunoo and Jungwon helping you wash the clothes, splashing water at each other and wincing when they tumbled forward onto some slimy rocks but not complaining when they had to carry back the heavy pile of wet clothes to hang up. Then it was Jake following into the woods with you, learning how to set traps for small animals and slowly getting the hang of spotting the prints of larger prey in the mud.

Sunghoon started to do the most important task by simply listening to you on a routine basis. You weren’t sure when the two of you started to pick up the habit of sharing your worries and thoughts before going to bed, talking in lows whispers and offering each other advice or most times just silence and a listening ear.

He listened to you talk about your fears of growing closer to them as the days passed and he told you how much he was terrified he was going to hold back the group, already feeling guilty that you hadn’t all moved on from this camp while he recovered.

You told him that it was okay and nobody blamed him but you bit your tongue on the fact that nobody seemed to want to leave anyways. No one had brought it up in the six days since the looters arrived, all growing used to the area and routine and finding a familiarity and comfort in it.

You knew it wasn’t safe and so did the others but it was hard to accept it for some reason, slowly spreading out into divided groups throughout the three houses and you felt a hint of panic at the fact everybody seemed to be getting comfortable now. Comfortable always worried you, knowing it meant guards were being lowered and you’d already almost lost each other multiple times in this area on full alert.

Sunghoon still wasn’t quite sure why he had gone out into the woods, tensing up every time you asked and shrugging with an expression that convinced you he really didn’t know.

There wasn’t any reason to push him on the subject despite how curious you were, knowing what was done was done and the events leading up to it wouldn’t change that. Sunghoon was still on bed rest so you hadn’t had to watch him face the full consequences of losing a limb in the apocalypse, not yet having to relearn how to shoot or lift a heavy piece of debris out of his way.

It made your heart ache but you had a good feeling he’d be able to figure it out, he’d grow used to it because he was strong and he fought too hard to not want to push past another obstacle. Sometimes, when you fell asleep and your body actually allowed you the luxury of a dream, you’d see him and the other boys. You were somewhere safe with big walls and plenty of water and fields to grow crops and Sunghoon was always there, a prosthetic arm that he was using casually and a bright smile.

Every once in a while it ended like that, giving you a soft fuzzy feeling when you’d wake up and start your routine again but most times it would quickly turn sour.

The boys in your dreams would turn pale with yellow sunken eyes, they’d be bloody and screaming and surging forward towards you suddenly with snapping jaws and most nights you weren’t able to bring yourself to put them down before they were sinking their teeth into your skin.

Those nights you’d wake up sweaty and panting, disoriented and understanding nothing but the overwhelming urge to get up and get far away from them all and the risk of seeing something terrible happen to them like that. Then you’d feel soft hands cupping your face in the familiar way they did, brushing your hair out of your wet face and whispering gentle things that always took you a few minutes to make out.

Heeseung would calm you down every single time you woke up from a nightmare, somehow always being awake to free you from that mental prison and you’d collapse against his chest with exhaustion and let him hold you until you were able to slip back into a quieter sleep.

If the other boys noticed how particularly close the two of you were, they didn’t say anything or at least not to you. Sometimes you’d see one of the younger boys throw Heeseung a look when his hands lingered on you for too long, some wiggled eyebrows and smirks. The older boys seemed a bit more hesitant to approach the situation but they were all keen and observant, giving you a heavy look whenever your gaze followed the leader out of the room.

You hadn’t planned for somebody like Heeseung to ever show up, never having considering feeling something so stupid and risky in this new world and sometimes you almost couldn’t bring yourself to look at him in frustration towards how vulnerable he made you.

It wasn’t something the two of you talked about but you knew he understood the way you felt, much more willing to take that chance and risk the extra hurt that would come along with losing you now. You were absolutely more hesitant to accept him and this connection and you were grateful that he never pushed you or tried to talk about it officially, satisfied with sleeping side by side and feeling his hands gently graze against your arm whenever he passed by you.

When three weeks passed since the incident and you were still holding down camp in the small cleared area, you knew your time there as a group was coming to an end.

You’d seen multiple corpses far too close to your area and you assumed they’d begun to move out of the city for the same reasons you had. They’d run out of food there and were searching for it out in the woods like the rest of you.

“What’re you thinking so hard about?” Your hands were faltering in their movements, sharping a piece of wood into a small point, and you glanced up to see Jay coming to sit around the unlit fire with you.

“I don’t know.” You were quickly sighing out, glancing at him one more time just to see the disbelieving look on his face before you were continuing with your knife work. “Just thinking we should probably be heading out sooner or later.”

“Yeah.” He said it in a large breath, heavy and defeated like he’d been considering the same things you had been.

Jay had been the most reluctant to settle down in the area and you couldn’t blame him, clearly the most careful and hesitant when it came to falling into that natural comfort that came with staying in one place for too long. He was a lot like you in that sense except he was more concerned with the groups safety than his own, something you were still fearful about fully leaning into.

“Don’t you have a run with Heeseung later?” He was asking suddenly and you paused again to look at him in confusion, wondering where he was going with this. “Well why don’t you mention it to him?”

“Why me?” You felt dumb the second you said it and he cocked his head at you with a hint of a smile.

“Are you seriously asking me that?”

#enhypen #enhypen drabbles #enhypen fanfiction #heeseung x reader #heeseung au #enhypen au #heeseung fic #lee heeseung #silenced

[ezdotjpg]

Supply Run

Hello here's a fic I wrote about Loft taking a trip back to Skyloft, pre the plot of bonus links. 1381 words!

Link’s favorite errand, head and shoulders above the competition, is making the trek up to Skyloft for a supply refresh. It’s why Zelda continues to ask him to do it, despite the fact that he always takes roughly 6 hours longer than he’s strictly meant to, and forgets at least one item on the list more than half the time. He should remind her, for the millionth time, that he loves her very much. 

“Thanks again, Luv!” he calls behind him as he makes to leave her stall, satchel full of all the necessary elixir ingredients they’ve been running low on. He double checked the list this time. Triple checked it, even. 

“Fly safe, now!” Luv shouts back, and even with his back turned he can imagine her shaking her comically large ladle after him. “I see you out there pulling stunts, you’ll give us all a heart attack one day!”

Link thinks he flies perfectly safe, thank you very much, but he promises to be very careful, and makes his escape from the Bazaar. Sunshine warming his face against the chill, he continues down the ramp, over the bridge, and into the residential quarter of the island. Few of the island’s older adults have agreed to make the move down to the surface yet, so while the area’s quiet, there’s still life in the buildings. He makes his rounds, popping in to each home to say hello and listen to the latest news, often several times over. 

“You’re looking thin again,” Henya frets, giving him a once over with a shrewd eye. “Are you sure you kids are growing enough food down there?”

He assures her that this year’s harvest was the best one yet, but she sends him off with several flasks of soup anyway, enough that he has to wedge them haphazardly in the satchel to make it all fit. 

“You look tired,” Batreaux tells him. He’d been overjoyed by the somewhat wonkily carved Keese Link had made to dress up the windowsill of his new home on Skyloft proper. Now, his brow is furrowed as he putters through his kitchen cabinets. “I’ve got a tea that might help, where in the world did it run off to?”

The packet of tea takes the Keese figure’s place in Link’s pocket, and as the door closes behind him, he tries to remember how many minutes Batreaux told him to steep it for. He never gets it quite right.

With all his visits finished, he lingers in the village square, pointedly not looking at the docks. He walks back to the neighborhood and checks on the island’s pumpkin crop, which looks fine. He catches a few sky stag beetles, and then lets most of them go. He sits by the waterfall and munches on a stamina fruit, kicking his legs over the side and getting his boots all wet. 

He’s half finished formulating a plan to break into his old academy room for no reason in particular before he finally, painfully decides that actually, it’s probably better to return home. Before the sun sets, and Crimson won’t fly anymore, and he’s forced to spend the night. Again. What a tragedy that would be. 

Back at the docks, he makes sure the satchel is buckled securely, briefly laments the ache in his knees, and takes off at run. At the last second, he twists his body around, launching off the edge with his arms out and his back to the land below. 

Link closes his eyes against the glare of the sun, and lets himself enjoy the freefall. His stomach swoops, his body weightless. Crisp air fills his lungs, the same air that tugs at his clothes and tickles his face with his hair. Falling on the surface is never quite this peaceful. Over the course of his quest, he learned what it meant to truly hit the ground, to feel flesh bruise and bones crunch. He made enough wrong footed steps, took tumbles off edges so high he thought they’d be the end of him, scrambling for the sailcloth.

Down below, there’s no failsafe, no guarantee that someone will catch you. The ground rushes up to meet you so fast. But here in the sky, he knows no one will ever let him fall too far. 

Speaking of, the couple of knights that still circle the island are probably getting antsy by now. He gives himself two more counts, taking them slow in his head, before bringing his fingers to his mouth. He whistles one sharp, clear note, and flips himself over into the proper position. It’s only a few seconds more before a familiar call answers. 

He grabs onto Crimson’s harness easily, though the rapid change in speed as she pulls up sends a painful zap up his bad arm. Crimson clicks her beak in apology, like she knows. He pets the soft fur of her back to soothe her. It’s his own fault, really.

It’s getting late. Batraeux was right about one thing: he is tired. He really shouldn’t do much besides simply flying home. 

But he sees Crimson so rarely these days, and her joy is a warm flare in the back of his mind. They circle around the islands scattered around Skyloft, making twirls and loops until he’s breathless from a combination of laughter and exertion, and the sun is beginning to hang dangerously low. Crimson begins her reluctant descent. 

As she hovers high above his front yard, Link gives her a hug around her neck, careful not to squeeze too hard. 

“Thank you,” he says. “See you next time.”

The jolt that runs through him as the sailcloth catches his weight certainly doesn’t help his arm, and he grits his teeth against it. Like always, Crimson stays in sight until his feet touch the ground. He stays rooted to the spot as well, waving after her until her form disappears over the treetops. 

It’s like a spell has broken. He lets his left hand drop, and all of a sudden, his limbs feel so heavy. It’s possible he’s overdone it a little. Every muscle in his body has a complaint it would very much like to lodge. The altitude change sticks in his lungs, makes the air feel thick enough he almost wants to cough. But he’d still call it the good kind of exhausted, the satisfied kind. With any luck, he’ll sleep so well tonight he won’t even dream. Dead on his feet, he shuffles his way onto the porch and inside the house. 

He kicks his boots off by the door, dropping the satchel as gently as he can manage it. Zelda looks up from where she’d been writing in a notebook on the couch, eyes crinkling as soon as she spots him. The house is full of warm, spiced smells and sizzling sounds, which implies that Groose is busy making dinner in the kitchen. If Link listens close, he can almost hear Groose humming.

“Welcome home, love,” Zelda says, setting her notebook aside. She doesn’t comment on his lateness, her smile knowing. He thinks, maybe, that it looks a little sad, too. That he misses it so much, that he lingers so long every time he gets the chance. Everyone on the surface misses Skyloft, but it’s different for him, isn’t it? It’s different. He can’t hide anything from her. 

Pushing the thought out of his mind, he makes a beeline over to the couch with the last of his energy, and flops over to join her. His head lands in her lap, and he can feel her body shake as she laughs at him. 

“That good, huh?” she teases. He makes a vaguely affirmative noise, curling up comfortably as her hand comes to rest on his head. He feels every ache and pain acutely now that he’s no longer standing, but it’s easy to ignore with Zelda’s fingers combing through his hair.

“Did you get everything on the list?”

“Mhm.”

“Double checked?”

“Mhm.”

“Hey, was that Link just now?” That one is Groose’s voice. It sounds closer when he speaks next, like he’s poked his head around the corner. “Babe, no sleeping yet! Dinner’s gonna be ready soon!”

“Don’t worry,” Zelda says. He’s already failing at Groose’s request. “I’ll wake you.”

#ficdotjpg #bonus loft #bonus links #bonuslinks #bonuslinksdotjpg #technically this is for the discord prompt but it turned out a little bittersweet lol #bonus groose #bonus skord zelda #not very well proofread forgive me for typos

[celestialvoid-fanfiction]

Sterek The Dragon Prince AU. Many years ago, the land of Zadia was home to to humans, elves and dragons. But that changed when a human mage sought to harness magic - a power that only elves and dragons had managed to access. But magic only comes from six natural sources known as Arcana: the sky, earth, water, ice, the sun, and the moon. Humans couldn’t harness these Arcana, and so one mage accessed a new power, a destructive force that consumes the life essence of living creatures: dark magic.

Elves and dragons banned together to exhile the humans from Zadia. Centuries later, the human’s lands are frozen over, the crops are dead and food stores have rotten. The high mage, Chris Argent, offers Queen Talia a solution, but it requires the heart of a creature only found in Zadia. The King knows it’s a bad idea, but it’s their only choice. It’s a choice that costs him the love of his life, his queen (who is one of the best fighters in the kingdom) is killed by the Dragon King, leaving behind a son (the kings step son) - Stiles - and their son, Eli.

Years later, the king exacts revenge on Zadia when he and the high mage kill the Dragon King and destroy the dragon’s egg, an act that Zadia reteliates for, sending moon elf assassins to kill the king.

The youngest moon elf assassin is Derek, who is tasked with finding and killing the King’s son, Eli.

But when he breaks into the castle, it’s Stiles he finds. Stiles lies to protect his half-brother, saying he’s Eli, but Eli comes tumbling into the room at that moment. Stiles tries to get Eli away from Derek but the three stumble upon the high mage’s secret, hidden below the castle is the egg of the Dragon Prince. Chris had stolen the egg, not destroyed it, hoping to use its immeasurable energy for his dark magic.

Stiles begs Derek to let them take the egg back to the Dragon Queen in hopes it will bring peace to the land and stop the war. Derek agrees on the condition he goes with them to make sure the egg is safe.

If only it were that simple. Their journey is drought with danger and the high mage’s daughter, Allison, is sent to kill them and take back the egg.

#sterek #sterek au #sterek dragon prince au #sterek the dragon prince au #sterek magic au #sterek imagine #imagine sterek #mage!stiles #mage stiles #teen wolf au #teen wolf dragon prince au #teen wolf the dragon prince au

[002yb]

Okay, but Honeypot mission, anyone? Just Dick being incredibly jealous because wtf Tim you said he wasn't gonna touch Jason- OH HES TOUCHING HIM!!!! HES TOUCHING HIM!!!! OOOOOHHHH IMMA KILL HIM- and just Dick almost ruining a month long stealth mission because he's a possessive little shit that loves to see Jason in his little shorts and mesh tights and v crop top showing off his beautiful toddies and squeezable thighs but man does he hate knowing people are looking and just fuck he hates Honeypot missions!!! WHY THE FUCK DID HE HAVE TO BE THIS CRIME LORDS TYPE FOR GODS SAKE TIM DO SOMETHING BEFORE I SAW THIS MANS HANDS OFF HIS BODY-

As it stands: Tim is a fool. Hubris has become his undoing and all that's left to be done is reap what he's sown. Tim should have known from the moment he caught Dick ogling Jason that Dick was too compromised to contribute anything of value to this particular mission, but Tim - genius detective protege extraordinaire - took Dick's lingering stares at Jason to mean that the foundation Jason and he laid was successful; that Jason was indeed a honey trap.

Which Jason is. Undoubtedly.

Jason caught the wrong guy though.

And Tim - competent mind that he is - doesn't realize until the damage is done. Dick invites himself along to act as support and Tim, dazzled by Dick's interest in this case Tim has been working for months and emboldened at the security of having more hands on deck for such an ambitious undertaking, is eager to accept.

It's shameful how he thanked Dick, in hindsight, given how damn troublesome Dick makes himself now. They're cooped up in the back of a nondescript van not too far from where Jason is schmoozing some crime lords. Watching a monochromatic green video feed and listening to audio - waiting for evidence to further the case or incriminate their targets; monitoring Jason's status, his safety and need for extraction. It's delicate work requiring Tim's full attention--

--and it goes ignored because Dick is being relentlessly annoying about it. They've been here an hour and Dick has been restless since Jason snuck away from their van to saunter into some seedy dive of a club with it's even more suspicious clientele. An hour and Dick's composure crumbles, his possessive tendencies taking hold because, 'Why are they all over him? Can they not back the fuck off? For fuck's sake, where are they -- Tim!'

It doesn't matter how Tim assures Dick that Jason is fine (and he is; Jason has a safe word and Dick is the only one calling it), but Dick refuses to hear reason.

Tim has half his attention on Jason, the other on unsuccessfully grappling with Dick to sit the fuck down as Dick, unprovoked, strips out of his Nightwing gear and into some makeshift fit to blend into the club. Were Tim's mission not at stake, he would be impressed with the beautiful shift from put together hero to handsomely tousled Dickie Grayson, but as it stands? Tim hisses under his breath for Dick to sit down, he'll blow their cover!

And Tim tries, he does, but Dick is a slippery bastard so in the throes of their brotherly roughhousing, Dick gets away from him, tumbling out of the van before popping back up like nothing happened, parting with a vicious and biting smile before slamming the doors shut as he goes to fuck some shit up.

It's all Tim can do to bite back a groan of defeat, head in his hands as he admits defeat and goes to Jason and his emergency comms with a fair warning: 'Big bird at your six.'

Tim is a fool, but at the very least he's not dumb in love like Dick. It's a small comfort, if nothing else.

======

Afterwards: Basically Dick pulls out all the stops to woe these crime lords himself and that's how both Jason and Dick end up dragged into whatever illicit affair the crime lords are up to and it becomes a joint effort and it's lovely. //u///

Jason is pissed, of course. Because for real, Dick? But Dick will accept the ire (or not even recognize it) without a fight because he's too busy shrugging off his jacket to throw over Jason's shoulders to get him modest and Jason is OTL because fuuuuuuuuck the chivalry gets his heart pounding even if he's pissed that Dick intervened (Jason only lets it slide because he knows it wasn't about Dick questioning Jason's competency; it was purely Dick being a jealous ass).

#dickjay #jaydick #possessive!dick grayson #jealous!dick grayson #dorks in love #tim is so done #words

[thedo0zyslider]

Hidden In The Orchard (My Lover Waits For Me) - 12k Words

Jimmy is a prince of a kingdom, Fwhip is just the son of a poor potato farmer. Yet somehow, they still meet, and fall head over heels in what seems to be an instant.

A03 Link

Jimmy walks by his parents, shifting uncomfortably in the layered outfit he had been forced to adorn that day, as he normally wore rather light clothing. But they’d been heading north, where it was colder, and merfolk, unused to any cold, often couldn’t handle it, or whatever. His father had given some stupid reason like that, and had forced his son into the outfit regardless. Jimmy would be taking the coat off as soon as he got out of his parents' sights, and he would not be putting it back on. (They weren’t even in the mountains yet, but parents had to parent he supposed.)

His sister trails in front of him, happily wavering to any villagers they pass. The only water source this one town has is a river, despite being under the merfolks wide jurisdiction, so it’s not often the people get to see their rulers. As a result, more than a few people were ogling them, especially Jimmy and his mother, the two codfolk of the family, A species of merfolk that didn’t venture out of the swamps much, resulting in some people thinking they had gone extinct entirely. Well, until the future king had married one that was.

Jimmy does his best to wave as well, but cannot help but feel uncomfortable. He should be used to it. Codfolk got stared at whenever they weren’t in a swamp, but he still wasn’t. Even if some of the people around the place did much nastier things than stare at him. (Never in front of his parents, or Lizzie, not when all three had much more influence than he did. Though Jimmy had influence, he was just too nice and tended to fold like wet paper. As Joel had put it once.)

Though a few of the people do catch his eye, even despite all the staring. The village they’ve taken a pitstop in seems to be a rather mixed one, full of more rare hybrids, especially for an empire founded and made mostly of his people. There is one boy in particular, one who looks about his age, that really catches the young prince’s eye.

The boy seems to be a dragon hybrid of sorts, a more rare type of hybrid to see around, one bright ginger hair. And quite the nice looking face, if Jimmy does say so himself. He’s tall, lanky, and looks to be around the prince’s age. Beside him is a girl, one that looks so similar to him, Jimmy determines the two must be siblings. Maybe even twins, for how their facial structures seem to be near mirrors of each other. They are each carrying a small basket, one full of potatoes, Jimmy finds upon closer inspection. The two must belong to a farmer family then, to be carrying such a large load of crops in. 

As he watches, Jimmy sees the boy stumble over a small patch of uneven ground. A few potatoes tumble to the floor, since the basket is full and loaded to the brim. Yet the young farmer seems to not notice, focusing on further keeping his balance and yelling something back to his sister up ahead. 

Jimmy stops in his tracks, the action thankfully unnoticed by his family. The prince walks over to the dropped crops, feeling as if he can’t just let the poor things he left there to rot. Especially if these people are farmers, and the potatoes are their source of income. When one his parents or Lizzie's voice doesn't call him back after a few more seconds, the cod feels safe enough to go through with helping this villager. 

“Here, you dropped this.” Jimmy calls out, picking up the stray potatoes from the ground. The boy looks between him and the misplaced crops in surprise, before the metaphorical light bulb goes off in his head, and he reaches forward to take them back, being careful of his still very full basket. One that is now clutched in one arm, much to the young codfolks' slight anxiety, but the other seems to have a secure hold on it, thankfully.

“Oh! Thank you!” He flashes a smile at the prince, and their hands brush briefly as he takes the potatoes back. Jimmy has to stop his breath from hitching, and feels the sparks at even the tiniest touch with this pretty stranger.

“No problem!” He smiles in return, catching a good look of the boy's bright blue eyes. Jimmy decides that they're rather pretty, like the rest of him. He watches the young farmer carefully place the crops back in the basket, happy no more are spilled. And he wants to say more, the prince really really does, but he is sadly interrupted before he can do so. 

His father's finally voice calls from a few feet ahead, and Jimmy has to stop his tail from flicking in annoyance. He would like to stay here and chat some more, this guy is really pretty! And probably really interesting too! But disobedience like that isn't really an option, and that is a fact Jimmy has come to know well. 

He gives the farmer boy once last smile and wave, his heart dropped as he does so. The ginger returns it, something glistening in his gaze. Maybe he also shares disappointment at how short their meeting was, maybe he also wants to talk to the prince more. But that is only a hope, for he cannot know for certain, and maybe the dragon is just happy to be finally left alone. 

Jimmy walks back, only sparring a small glance behind his shoulder. He tries not to make his tail droop, especially when Lizzie starts talking to him. The prince is told how nice of an act that was, but to please stay with his family and the few guards lingering around as they walk. In case he gets lost or something happens to him. The young cod nods, shifting uncomfortably in his clothes once again, and knows that information will be forgotten as soon as his family shuts their mouths. 

An hour or two later, the prince had managed to sneak off again. The family finally had some free time to spare, and instead of exploring the local shops with his family, Jimmy had started back down their path from earlier. He was sure all the stores up ahead were lovely, really he was, but his mind was set on a certain someone from earlier. His mind was set on that pretty looking farmer boy, and the blonde knew he had to go back and see him again. It was a feeling he had, that the two of them needed to meet for more than a brief second, something about the ginger drawing him in even when the two weren't anywhere near each other. 

After somewhere between ten to twenty minutes of walking and backtracking, he sees the young dragon hybrid again. The boy’s back is too him, his ginger hair alight in the afternoon sun. His sister from earlier had disappeared, presumably going inside for the day, maybe to handle that basket of fresh crops from earlier. That leaves her twin outside, herding in two dogs to the backdoor of his house. The prince has to fight back a smile as he approaches, watching the other with intrigue, though he doesn’t think he controls his expression very well.

“Ah, it’s you again!” Jimmy says, caching sight of that pretty farmer boy from earlier as he walks. The other jumps, and his face lights up with surprise once he turns and sees who it was that had called for him. If the cod is not mistaken, the boy seems decently intimidated as well. Which is fair, he supposes, because he is the prince of the whole kingdom after all.

“Oh um, hello your highness!” The boy from earlier jumps, his tail flicking in surprise. “Nice to see you again!” The ginger flashes a smile at him, one resembling the one he'd given before. Jimmy decided he rather likes this guy, and maybe he likes that dazzling little smile just as much if not a bit more. 

“No need for the formalites.” The blonde says with a slight shake of his head. He doesn't really like when people get all formal and serious with him, especially when it's someone he just met. Especially when it's someone he would rather like to be friends with. 

“Right okay, um,” The boy says, seeming to trip over his own words out of nervousness. “Your name's Jimmy, right?” He asks, likely having heard the name of all four royals at one point before in his life. Well hopefully he knew the names of the people ruling his kingdom, because Jimmy had concerningly run into some people who didn't. 

“Yes! It is! What's yours?” He smiles, making a pleased clapping motion with his hands. His tail flicks behind him happily, which the boy seems to notice. He smiles at the movement, before his eyes move back to Jimmy’s face. 

“Fwhip!” He nods, any earlier nervousness seeming to fade just a bit. “My name's Fwhip!” The cod next to him smiles at that, and gives his own nod in return. That was quite the unique name, if he had to say so himself. It's certainly not something he'd ever heard before, and probably wouldn't hear anything like it again. It just made the ginger more alluring to him, really. 

"How old are you?" Fwhip asks, giving the taller boy a curious glance over. It was natural for people to be uncertain about a merfolks age, for their species could get rather tall and was known for their sudden growth spurts. It was a question Jimmy had gotten before, and would probably get again until he'd left those awkward teenage growing years. Which would be soon hopefully, since he was nearing adulthood and all. 

"Seventeen." He answers, now wanting to know the others out of pure curiosity. Fwhip looks to be about his age, maybe older, if the slight stubble starting to form on his chin says anything. They're definitely in the same age range though, which is fun. Jimmy never meets a lot of people his age, and the ones he does he can't really talk casually too. They're all either way too formal with him, or they are sadly other royals themselves 

"Sixteen, but my birthday's tomorrow. So I'm technically seventeen." Fwhip says with a nonchalant shrug, his own tail flicking from side to side, just like the cod's had started too a few minutes before. Their tails bump slightly, and the two boys exchange a laugh, before continuing their conversation.

Jimmy hums in response. "Well I'll still be in town tomorrow, so I must stop by and get you something!" He exclaims, the smile that had formed before widening ever so slightly. The cod was already brainstorming a way to get said gift, which mainly included a way to sneak away from his family once again. A task that sounded tricker than it truly was, probably, hopefully. 

"Oh no, your highness, you don't need to!" Fwhip stumbled over his words, struggling to get his response out. "Really it's fine " He sounded genuine, and maybe a little embarrassed that someone of such high status would even think to get him a gift, even though it was his birthday!

"I insist!” Jimmy said, not having it any other way. It was gonna be his birthday! He couldn't just not get Fwhip anything on his birthday! That was the whole point of birthdays! "I'd feel bad if I knew it was your birthday and didn't get anything." He explained, hoping his clear passion for the occasion game through in his voice as well as his expression. 

Apparently, it did, because Fwhip just blinked at him. "Oh." The farmer boy muttered, seeming a bit caught off guard by the prince's insistence. And if the blonde wasn’t mistaken, there was even a slight blush starting to dust his freckled cheeks. (Which was adorable, really, in Jimmy’s entirely humble and totally unbiased opinion.) 

"And drop the your highness stuff please? I hate that." He once again reminds Fwhip to be less formal with him, though Jimmy doesn't blame him for forgetting. It will not be the first or last time he has to do so, and the cod has expected that he will be doing that correction until the day he dies. Not that he minds, if it gets people to stop being so formal around him and start being more friendly. 

Fwhip’s shoulders seem to sag in relief, and he flashes a dazzling smile up at the cod prince. "I hate saying it." He admits, and somehow their already friendly conversation gets even more friendly. Maybe because now, for one of the first times ever, Jimmy feels like he’s being talked too as his own person, not just some prince. Not just some guy who was important for what he himself felt was no good reason. He was a person, talking to another person the same age as him, and that feeling was something the blonde found he greatly enjoyed. 

"Now, what kinda stuff do you like?" Jimmy asks, maybe a bit too early. But he cannot help it, because he is so curious about this guy. He wants to know everything about this little farmer kid, he finds. He wants to know him better than he knows his sister and his parents, better than the prince knows even himself.

"Why?" Fwhip tilts his head to the side, as if puzzled, and his tail swishes curiously. It seems he had forgotten what they were literally just talking about, which was rather silly of him. And maybe it was also a little endearing of him as well, to the codfolk anyways.

"For your birthday present." Jimmy cannot help but smile as he gives the simple explanation, and cannot help how the look widens a monet later. Fwhip blushes a little, still surprised that a guy he would just met would get a gift for him. Even though its going to be his birthday.

"Oh, um," The farmer starts out uncertainly, then eventually devolves into a minutes long rant about all his interest and hobbies, stuff he’s very clearly passionate about; and also clearly has no one to really talk with it about either. Fwhip’s very into engineering and tinkering, as he tells Jimmy. It’s honestly adorable, how passionate he is about the subject. The prince thinks he could listen to this guy ramble and talk for hours and hours and would never tire of it, truly he does. And, this whole conversation gives him a pretty good idea for a birthday gift, on top of getting to listen to this guy's wonderful sounding voice.

Though eventually, after around an hour of just hanging around and talking, Jimmy knows he will have to leave. His family's allotted free time is coming to an end, meaning the prince will have to head back soon. Lest his parents finally realize he’s missing and start a panic over it. So with a slightly heavy heart, he parts his new dragon friend goodbye. But not before something secret is given to him, something that’s going to make the night ahead a whole lot better than it was originally going to be.

Fwhip slips him a note as they part, one Jimmy can only read when he is finally free of his family's presence once again. One that reads to meet him in the nearby orchard, two hours after the sun goes down. The prince can't help the buzz of excitement that follows through him when he reads it, and cannot wait until the sun finally disappears from the sky. 

Two hours after the sunset, just as he was directed, Jimmy is jumping out of his guest window, the one at the place his family was staying at for the night. It’s quite a nice place, and the prince laments that he won’t get to spend much time in the rather comfortable bed it possesses. But he has somewhere more important to go, someone far more important to see. Fwhip is already waiting for him probably, and he needs to get there before he goes back in, or thinks that the cod will not be coming and they never see each other again. 

He makes his way through the now dark little village, keeping to the shadows just in case he is spotted. He makes a correct guess, that the orchard is near Fwhip’s house. Though even if it wasn’t the place wouldn;t have been too hard to find in the end, considering this village is on the smaller side. And the fact that orchards tend to be quite big places, especially if they want to make any profit at all. 

  The prince reaches the aforementioned orchard, and starts to weave his way uneasily through the trees. The blonde does so until he has to be about halfway through the maze of apple trees, and then he sees a light. Instantly, he picks up the pace, beeling for what seems to be the low light of a lantern. And when he reaches his destination, Fwhip there waiting for him, his wings folded in on themselves as the ginger leans against one of the apple trees. 

Once both boys spot each other, their faces light up brighter than the light from the lantern ever could. Jimmy is by Fwhip’s side at an instant, in his personal space without even a thought or a care in the world, for all that matters now is the boy in front of him. The farmer says nothing, just flashes that dazzling smile from before back up at him, and the cod prince thinks he’s going to melt and die, it’s so cute on him; that smile is.

"Why'd you want to meet me here?" Jimmy asks, not noticing how he shuffles closer to the other boy, doing so almost on instinct. Fwhip doesn’t seem to care that they’re so close, close enough for their shoulders to brush. He seems to relish it actually, and the blonde can't deny that he feels similarly about it.

Fwhip shrugged casually, piercing him with those pretty blue eyes once again. "I feel like I should. Like I shouldn't just let you leave." He mumbled, sounding a little embarrassed by the fact. Jimmy felt a sudden surprise color his face at the words, and he shuffled closer to the other once more.

"Yeah, yeah I get that too." He said in response, his tone quiet just like the dragon hybrid’s was, to match the mood. They would probably want to be quiet in the orchard too, since there were houses of sleeping people decently nearby. "This feels too important to just let go, somehow." 

"Besides," Fwhip smirks ever so slightly, Jimmy getting to see his mischievous looks for the first time. He thinks that kind of look looks right on this guy. "You're rather pretty. I'd hate to let a pretty guy slip away without at least flirting with him." The farmer boy leans in as he speaks, teasingly, enticingly. Jimmy can’t help but smirk at him in return, and lean in further as well.

"You're not so bad yourself."  He purrs, feelings his tail flick around Fwhip’s legs. The other glances down for just a second, before his eyes flick back to meet Jimmy’s. The look his new friend has is dangerous, and maybe the cod wants to lose himself in it just a little bit. 

Glad you think so~" Fwhip flirts further, leaning back as fast as he had leaned forward. Jimmy has to hold back a frown at that, though it is a frown that wouldn’t have stayed for long. Medium sized wings puff out, hiding them a little bit more from the world. The prince feels a thrill of something go through him, and has to stop himself from leaning in and chasing the other and all his fleeting flirts.

"Is that all you're going to do, charm me?" Jimmy can't help but giggle, Fwhip’s wings managing to cover most of the area around them. The two, along with the lantern, haven been entirely enclosed in their own little world. A world neither of the boys will want to be leaving anytime soon, and certainly aren't planning on doing so. Not for a few hours, at least.

The ginger lets out a giggle, leaning in slightly again as another tease. "I planned to get to know you a little more, then I'd charm you." He moves back quickly, just as Jimmy thought he would, and he wonders what would happen if neither of them pulled away. 

"Well, we have all night." The prince says with a cheeky grin, folding his hands behind his back. Something lights up in Fwhip's eyes, as he returns the look he's given in full force, his face prettier and brighter than even the morning sun. 

And it was all night they spent together, in the darkness of that little apple orchard. They chatted and talked, with even more flirts sprinkled in there, for hours upon hours. The two were there even though both of them had to be deathly tired, the only thing keeping them alert and awake being the other person beside them. It was everything to the prince, it was wonderful, and he wouldn't trade it for the world. 

The two of them start walking back, the flirts now having advanced into hesitant touch. In one hand, Fwhip carries the lantern, holding it out ahead of them. In his other he holds Jimmy’s hand, their fingers interlocking. The prince thinks about it again, and has to stop his breath from hitching and his face flushing red. The dragon's wings are also spread still, one comfortably wrapped around Jimmy. The cod finds this whole thing rather sweet, and it adds to Fwhip's charm factor. Which isn't exactly hard , everything the ginger does is charming to him. 

After a minute or so of thinking, Jimmy stops, remembering something the farmer boy had said earlier. Fwhip looks puzzled as he stops beside him, all while a sly smile forms on the cod's face. "You said you were going to flirt with me at least. So what's the most you're going to do?" He asks, and brings himself closer to the other. The dragon's eyes light up with something, and a shiver involuntary runs down the prince's spine. 

Fwhip smirks, and leans forward for what has to be the hundredth time that night. "Kiss you, maybe. If you're up for it." He mutters, their noses starting to bump ever so slightly. Neither of them have pulled away, and this is what happens. Jimmy holds back an amused giggle, feeling a hand come to cup his chin. 

"I'm more than up for it." He says in response, lowering his voice to a low murmur, almost a whisper. His own hands find purchase on the gingers waist, resting comfortably against the fabric of his rather worn clothes. Fwhip smirks again, clearly pleased with himself. 

"Good." The dragon hybrid whispers against his lips, before closing the gap between them. It's a wonderful first kiss, a chaste one. Fwhip’s lips are warm against his, and taste heavenly sweet. The hand on his cheek tilts the prince's head further, deepening the kiss in the process, and Jimmy feels his knees go a little weak. He's died and gone to heaven, he has to have, to be experiencing something this amazing. 

They pull away after a few moments, both of their faces flushed a decent amount of red. Fwhip can't help it, and lets a small giggle slip past his lips. A happy laugh, one full of all the joy in the world. Soon enough, Jimmy is laughing along with him, their hands becoming intertwined once again. He felt like he was floating, like he was on cloud nine. Fwhip grips his hand tighter, squeezing it affectionately, and he leans in until their foreheads bump together, both of them still laughing.

After that, the two of them have to pull away once again, and continue their walk home. Once they reach the main road it is nearing sunset, within the next hour and a half at least. Their parting is supposed to be sad, maybe even bittersweet, and the last time they see each other. But before he goes, Jimmy leans in and whispers to Fwhip. He tells the ginger to stay up for a little while longer, for he has a surprise in store. Before the other cab protest, he is gone and disappearing down the road, determined like he never has been before. 

Jimmy is only in his guest room for maybe ten minutes, getting no sleep in that really comfortable bed. By early morning he is sneaking out again, birthday gift in hand as he heads towards Fwhip’s house. He said he was getting this kid a birthday gift, and he meant it!

He'd bought the gift earlier, on his way back to their guest house that evening. It was something he was sure Fwhip would like, based on what the dragon had told him anyways. The gift was wrapped the best it could, that being only a small white box with no ribbon or tissue paper. It was all the prince could grab on such short notice really, and he prayed Fwhip wouldn’t mind too much. 

Before the prince knows it, he's reached the ginger's house. There is an open window on the side, on the second story, and Jimmy hopes that Fwhip left it open for him. Because that's the way he's getting in. Even if it is technically illegal. 

He uses his extra height to his advantage, grabbing onto the window sill with some difficulty. The codfolk hauls himself up, keeping the present tightly pressed to his chest, so it doesn't fall. And when the blonde finally gets most of him  through the window, with maybe a few parts of his clothes now dirtied and torn, he is face to face with the one person he had hoped to see the most. 

“Hi.” He whispers, staring into Fwhip’s pretty blue eyes once again. Despite the slight shock displayed on his face, the dragon hybrid smiles back at him, and warmth floods through every inch of Jimmy’s being. 

“Hello there.” Fwhip mutters, fondness undeniable in his voice. He tugs the cod a little, helping him get through the window properly. The farmer doesn't let go, not until Jimmy has his balance properly again, and the two of them are standing face to face once more. 

The prince smiles, feeling the slightest blush start to form on his face. “Happy birthday.” He hands the box out to Fwhip, averting his eyes bashfully as he does so. A hand brushes the blonde's, and his friend takes the box slowly, as if in some kind of shock. 

“You actually got me something.” Fwhip mutters quietly, sounding astonished as he turns the gift box in his hands. Jimmy moves his gaze away from the floor, just in time to watch his friend unbox it. The dragon holds it so delicately, like it's the most precious thing he's ever seen. Like it's something that needs to be persevered in a museum. 

“Well, go on,” Jimmy says, unable to hold back the smallest of smiles. “Open it.” Fwhip nods in favor of a verbal response, seemingly far too touched to speak anymore. He moves to the side a little, so he can place the lid of the box onto his nightstand after he removes it. Though Fwhip soon has to stop from dropping the whole box in surprise, fumbling with it in his hands. 

Inside the box is a pair of goggles, ones with red lenses. They had been rather expensive, but Jimmy had the money (being rich had its perks, ya know). And once he saw them in that ship window, he'd thought of Fwhip instantly, and knew he had to get them for the ginger. They were gonna be the perfect birthday gift, he'd just known it. And to his delight, it seems his hunch was right. If Fwhip’s utter joy and disbelief was anything to go off of, anyways. 

“Oh Jimmy….you shouldn't have!” The ginger says, taking the gift out of its box. He turns them around in his hands in awe, such a wide smile beginning to form on his face. He places them on his head for a brief second, to see if they fit okay. And they do, from what Jimmy can tell, and even if they didn’t, he would happily buy a better fitting pair, no matter the amount of money he would have to spend.

“But I did.” The prince responds after a moment, having been distracted by just watching the other. The sight was that memoizing to him, it so happened. “Just for you.” His small smile from earlier had gotten earlier, and it is then he realizes he’s basically been grinning the entire night, for Fwhip made him so happy. The thought made him smile more, and he watched the dragon carefully remove the goggles, and place them back in the box they’d been brought in. He smiles still, even as Fwhip hides the box hastily under his bed, likely to keep the now dear possession safe.

Fwhip turns back to the cod, and before he knows what happens, the other is right in front of him once again. Warm arms wrap around his neck, and the farmer boy pulls Jimmy into a hug. Their first hug, one that is warm, warmer than any the prince had ever received before. “Thank you.” Fwhip mutters, burying his face into the crook of the cod’s neck, his breath landing right near his gills. Jimmy tries not to shudder at the feeling, and lets his own arms embrace the other in return. 

“You're welcome.” He responds, feeling himself start to melt into Fwhip’s never ending warmth. “I just thought you could need some protection, especially if you're pursuing engineering more.” The cod explains his thought process behind the gift, going to idly rest his chin on top of the others head. The gesture is always something Lizzie does to him, so once Jimmy has an opportunity to do so as well, he takes it without any thought at all. Thankfully, Fwhip doesn’t seem to mind at all. He seems to enjoy it, in fact, keening into the touch like he was starving for it his whole life.

“Thank you.” The dragon hybrid repeats his earlier words, pulling back a bit, just so they were able to look at each other's faces again. Arms still stayed wrapped around his neck, which Jimmy was grateful for, because he didn’t want this moment to end, not yet anyways. “I'd been wanting these for months, but could never find the money to get them.”

“Well, that makes me all the more happy I got them for you.” Jimmy said, reaching down so he could press a fleeting kiss into his friend’s auburn locks. Fwhip giggles at that, and places a return peck on his cheek, the contact burning like a small fire against his scales. 

“What did I do to deserve you.” The farmer boy says, his gaze now being filled with something. It’s that fond look again, one Jimmy knows he has already given to the other a million times over. A look he is getting used too, and a look he is learning to love seeing. He wants to see it a thousand times more, for the rest of his life even, it is that spectacular. 

“Be your wonderful self, that's what.” The prince mutters back in earnest, finding that their faces are now close once again. Too close to be anything friendly. Once he notices, Jimmy has to try and keep his gaze locked with Fwhip’s, instead of flicking it down to his lips instead. He doesnt think he does a good job of it, but the effort is what counts.

“.....You're wonderful too, you know that?” The other doesn’t seem to notice, only leaning in closer, seeming to be drawn in by an unseen magnetic field that laid between them. They both hold back another giggle at their noses bump, staring into each other’s eyes with an emotion so warm and full, it can only be one thing.

“I think I'm in love with you.” It’s Jimmy who breathes the words out, the realization coming to him as actually as breathing, instead of that large, shell shocking one all those romance novels would describe. 

Fwhip smiles up at him, and mutters back, he mutters back some of the best words Jimmy thinks he’s ever heard. “I think I am too, somehow.” Joy fills the cod from head to toe once he hears that, but he can only bask in that feeling for a moment, for their wonderful night is about to be brought to an unfortunate close.

There is a sudden shuffling in another room, shuffling that indicates a person. It has to be, the creature making it sounds far too big to be the dogs Jimmy had seen that afternoon. Both of them jump in near unison, drawn out of their own little world by the noise, and having to wonder if they had woken someone up by accident. “I gotta leave.” The codfolk hisses through gritted teeth, turning to look out the window. The sun is starting to rise, a light purple already beginning to dust the horizon. He stalks back, taking long and hurried strides. Jimmy knows he needs to go, before someone catches them, before they both get in deep trouble.

“Will you ever come back?” Fwhips asks, following him to the window. At the question, the prince stops, sitting halfway out the window, and goes to get what is possibly one of his last looks at the boy in front of him. The dragon’s gaze is hopeful, desperate, full of pain. The blonde thinks he’s going to shatter right then and there, it hurts him so much to see.

“I don't know.” Jimmy looks at him, uncertain at how to answer that. He and his family have quite the long trip ahead of them, and many more towns to visit. It is entirely possible they will not use this path for their return journey, and he will never see this person again. He knows that’s what's probably going to happen, as much as it breaks his heart, he will never see this wonderful village again, and the boy in front of him will vanish with it in less than an hour. 

“Kiss me again? Before you go?” Fwhip asks, reaching out and tugging on his sleeve; maybe doing so more than a little desperately. It’s funny, how attached they are to each other after just one single day, but that is something to ponder over later.

Jimmy smiles down at him, feeling his heart soften further for this boy. “I was already planning on it.” The prince mutters, and can see the way Fwhip lights up in joy. He leans down, careful from where he sits on the window, and the dragon hybrid meets him halfway. Their final kiss is as long as they dare to make it, sweet and fleeting and never enough. They pull away at the sound of more stirring in another room, just as their breaths start to run out. Jimmy wants to go back in for another, yet he knows he has to go. Lest his parents find them before Fwhip’s do.

He gives the ginger one last look, one that he hopes says everything he cannot right now, and then continues his descent out the window. Jimmy lands on the grass below, barely managing to regain his balance again before slipping off into the receding darkness of the early morning. He does not look behind him, because Jimmy knows that if he does, he will never be able to leave this place. The prince does not look back, but can feel Fwhip’s gaze, one just as torn as his own, following him the whole way back and then some.

____________________

The years go by fast, and Jimmy gets older. He turns twenty, finally becoming old enough to do something other than sit there and listen to his parents' orders on how to be a good prince. Though doing something is not much, considering Lizzie is the oldest, and therefore set to become the ruler of their kingdom one day. But even as his duties pile up, the prince still thinks about being seventeen again. He still thinks about that red haired boy he;d left in the village, and his heart longs to return to that wonderful night they’d shared together. 

His parents offer him suitors, other princesses from other kingdoms. And Jimmy is not interested. He wouldn't have if they were princes, either. His heart is still with the boy from the village, even three years later. His heart is still with those shining blue eyes, soft lips and warm smiles in the darkness of an apple orchard. 

Yet one day, three long years later, those warm blue eyes return to him. They return to the prince in the most unconventional, yet perfect way possible. They return to him with the sound of his study’s window being pried open, and the greeting of a wonderful and familiar voice, one that makes his whole being ache with long buried longing.

The prince turns around, surprised by the voice. A voice he'd never thought he'd  hear again, but is all the more delighted to. “Fwhip!?" Jimmy exclaims, not believing what he sees. There, standing before him, is Fwhip, having climbed in through his window; much like the prince himself had done all those years before on his seventeenth birthday. 

 "Yeah, it's me!" The man says, and even though he is a little older, it is still Fwhip, clear as day. His hair has gotten longer, now held in a ponytail, and his face was more defined than it had been. The stubble that had been on his chin before had grown into a full beard as well. Yet despite all those changes, his shining blue eyes were still recognizable, still the same, still him.

"What are you doing here!? How are you here!?" The prince takes a few steps forward, reaching out. But he doesn't grab onto the other person, stopping before he does so. It's been three years, and he feels hesitant to be so forward again. 

"My mom got another job, closer to the capital." Fwhip explains with a smile, grabbing Jimmy’s outstretched hands. He holds them in his own, and the cod feels himself lean into the touch he's been starving for for so long. "I couldn't just not see you!"

"Did you sneak in?" The prince asks a rather obvious question, earning a fond snicker from the dragon hybrid. The answer was quite obvious, and he should already know, considering the earlier sound of an unlocking window and all.

"Maybe~" He teases, giving him a little bit of a flirty look. Despite himself and all the worry he has for Fwhip’s safety, Jimmy giggles at that. He’s just so damn charming, this guy is. And captivating, entirely and utterly captivating. Did he ever mention that before? Captivating? Because it's what Fwhip is, to him at least.

"How!?" The cod asks, tightening his grasp on the other’s hands. He thinks a smile is starting to form on his face, a rather wide one, since its starting to hurt so much. Jimmy hopes its a wide smile, so he can show the dragon all the joy he feels at finally seeing him again, after all this time.

"I have my ways." The other lets a small purr slip out, but the sound is a bit unsure. It must be something about Jimmy’s face, or his expression, that is setting the other off. Something about this interaction is upsetting the other, something the blonde can;t quite place his finger on, much to his own frustration. 

Fwhip's confident gaze falters for a second, and he frowns. He lets go of Jimmy’s hands, and the prince feels a mirroring frown start to appear on his own face, his thoughts spiraling and wondering what he had done wrong. "Do you…not want me here? I know it's been three years-"

"No! No." His protest is instant, panic starting to settle into the prince’s bones as soon as the words process. "I want you here." The codfolk goes to reach out again, and ends up grasping desperately at nothing, for the ginger is too far away despite being so close to him. Once again, Jimmy cannot reach for him, and the thoughts have to pain him more than anything else ever has, except maybe their previous parting. 

Fwhip looks uncertain, despite the prince’s devastation. He backs away a bit, still hesitant and uncertain, and Jimmy wants to do nothing more but pull him back and never let go. "There's not.….someone else? I thought you royal people all got married off." The dragon asks, his tail dropping against the floor with a small thunk. Jimmy thinks part of him just shattered a tiny bit, fearful that Fwhip will turn heel and leave and they will never see each other again, not for another three miserable years.

"No, there's no one else." Jimmy shakes his head, and reaches out for a second time. He grasps Fwhip’s hands in his, maybe clinging on harder than he should. But he can’t help it, the prince needs him to stay. "They — my parents — they tried to give me a suitor. But I never wanted one."

"O-oh…" The ginger stammers, his gaze becoming momentarily transfixed on their hands, their hands that are now joined together, fingers interlocking. He looks back up at Jimmy when he keeps talking, a slight shade of red starting to dust his pretty freckled cheeks.

"Everytime they tried to get me to court someone, all I could think about was you." The cod explains. that old and indescribable fondness for this man finding its way into every crevice of his brain for what has to be the millionth time. Fwhip looks up at him, wearing a look that has to be adoration and wonder. Jimmy thinks he’s melting, he’s so in love.

"Would you court me? If given the chance?" The dragon hybrid asks, his own grip on the cod’s hands tightening. Jimmy’s unyielding wave fondness is momentarily interrupted by pleasant surprise, not having expected such a question. A question he did not expect, but is not entirely opposed to. 

"In a heartbeat." His answer is genuine, immediate, and said without a thought. The prince knows in his bones that he would date this man, even if he wasn’t even supposed to see him, let alone doing anything more. He would court him, date him, no matter what the world has to say about it. 

"So court me, please." Fwhip breathes, his hand going to clutch Jimmy’s arm. The prince feels his breath hitch, looking down at the ginger. He can tell, by the look in Fwhip’s eyes, that this is a genuine request. That the dragon would like to go through the whole courting and dating process, with him of all people. 

Even then, he still can’t believe it. Can’t believe the miracle that has practically been placed in his lap. "Really!?" The blonde whispers, astounded. But it's a happy kind of astonishment, the best kind.

"All I could think about for the past three years was you." Fwhip says, his whole expression going soft and warm. And then Jimmy laughs, and laughs even when warm hands come to cup his face, and they both end up laughing into yet another kiss. The first kiss they’ve had in three long years. A kiss that says yes, they were going to be a thing now. This was them, and would be them, for as long as Fwhip would have him.  

When the two of them pull away again, they’re both laughing still, though it comes out more breathless than before. Suddenly, in what has to be a moment of pure exhilaration, Fwhip wraps his arms around the prince's waist, and picks him up with startling strength. Jimmy feels himself turn red, laughing still as he is spun around in the air for a second. 

The dragon hybrid puts him back down, and the cod bumps their foreheads together with a final giggle. Fwhip meets his gaze, and stares back lovingly, and a million wonderful new possibilities start to run through Jimmy;s head at the sight. "Courting does imply marriage…." He murmured after a moment of thought, giving the other an expectant look.

"You'd marry me?" Fwhip asks, having that same surprise Jimmy had held just a few wonderful minutes before, when he’d first broken into the prince's bedroom. This whole thing felt like they were in a fairytale or something, they had to be, for it all to be this perfect and amazing. 

Jimmy speaks again, and hopes all the love he feels for this guy is shown clearly in his eyes, his voice, the way he holds him, in everything that he is able to show it with. "Yes, I think so. I'm pretty sure I would."

"But you barely know me." Fwhip protests, but it comes out weak and in vain, especially when the rest of his being seems to be buzzing with excitement at the mere idea that he is dating the man in front of him, let alone marrying him. 

"Then let me start knowing you." Jimmy says it simply, like its the most obvious thing in the world. Because to him it is, he wants to date Fwhip, to know him wholly and entirely, to be his, and to be the others. He thinks it's all he’s been wanting since they first met those three fateful years ago.

Fwhip cracks a lopsided grin, looking up at the cod with what has to be pure adoration, his gaze is warm and lovely and full of a million other things that Jimmy cannot even try and describe. “Sure. Okay. You can start knowing me.”

“Where do we start with that, then.” He asks, curiosity starting to flicker inside him. The prince has a few ideas, a few ways of getting to know the dragon better that he would like to try. But for now, he is more than happy to let his frie —his boyfriend set the pace. Just for a little while though, just for now, at the start of this all, until they are both more comfortable in their roles in each other's lives.

“Maybe….like this?” Fwhip murmurs, and captures the prince’s lips in his again. Jimmy kisses him back, smiling as a hand goes to tangle in his hair. Even after all this time, their kisses are still sweet tasting and warm, like they had been all those years before. They taste like the apples, like the ones in that very orchard on that fateful night, during what felt like a lifetime ago.

“Yeah, this is a good way to start knowing you.” The ginger agrees once they pull away, already starting to pant as he begins to finally catch his breath. He was already panting, when Jimmy had a sneaking suspicion this was far from the last kiss they were going to exchange that day. They’d missed far too many opportunities to do so before, and now was the moment to make up for all that lost time. 

“Then we'll just keep doing it.” He murmured, bumping their noses together. It is the best way, the only way he really knows how to be a tease about this; to communicate just what he exactly desires in the moment. Thankfully, his partner gets the hint. 

“Hm, good.” Fwhip whispers against his lips, and leans down to take more. Jimmy smiles as the other pushes him down further, and gladly lets him take and take as many kisses as he would like. Their lips connect again, and the prince is in bliss once more. WIth the dragon held in his arms, kissing him stupid, he is finally home again.

____________________

The years go by, and the two keep seeing each other. It's as often as they can, since Jimmy tends to get so busy. And Fwhip can't exactly sneak in every day, even if they would both like to do that. But when he does show up, it makes the occasion all the more special, and lights up the prince's day. And that doesn't change, even after two or so years of being together. Every day with his partner brings him undescribable joy, one that he wouldn’t change for the world. 

"Mind if I…see your wings?" Jimmy asks one day, doing so during a quiet moment. The two had managed to get a quiet moment together, hidden the way in the darkness of the cod’s bedroom; with the door being locked for extra measure. Fwhip is curled up in his arms, buried snuggly into his warmth. Before he had spoken, Jimmy had been playing with his partners hair, and humming rather contentedly.

That wasn’t a question he asked lightly, for he knew how personal wings were to a dragon hybrid. Fwhip had told him so himself once, and Jimmy was keen to respect that. If his boyfriend were to decline the offer, he wouldn’t complain, just go back to what he had been doing before. He had only asked due to a sudden curiosity, and was more than comfortable to back away from his offer if necessary.

He only got small glances at his partners wings when they were spread, though normally the limbs were folded and sometimes even restrained to his back, covered by a shirt at most times. All he’d ever known about them was that they were red and black, and that dragon hybrids were very sensitive about who touched them, the action being a quite personal thing reserved for only family, close friends, and lovers. 

Under him, Fwhip stiffens ever so slightly. But Jimmy says nothing on it, and keeps running his fingers through his boyfriend’s hair. He knows how big of a question this is, how big of a moment this is for the dragon, for the both of them. So he will give him all the time in the world to think, even if that means giving him a couple of days or more. 

After a few long moments, Fwhip makes a murmur of what has to be agreement. Jimmy lets his partner go, touched that the dragon would be so open with him, especially when he could decline so easily. Fwhip shuffles out of his grasp, until he is sitting cross legged in front of the cod. The prince sits up properly himself, and watches as the other unveils the limbs attached to his back, raising his shirt to do so. He decides to get this over with quickly, as he can sense the lingering discomfort hanging around the ginger still. 

Jimmy softly ghosts his fingers along the edge of his partners wings, more than a little mesmerized at the sight. Fwhip lets out an involuntary shiver at the touch, and the prince pulls his hand back, fearful he did something wrong. 

Fwhip mutters out something, his voice gentle and kind despite everything. “You didn't do anything wrong, dear. This just….never happens much. I think the only one who's touched these is my family.” At that reassurance, Jimmy nods, moving his hand back. He is still cautious, but manages to rest his fingers along the ridge of it. The ginger shudders again, but his partner does not pull away. He just steadies himself and keeps his hand there, so Fwhip can get used to the sensation. 

The prince runs his hands over the limbs for only a few more minutes, a little in awe of the sight of them. Eventually, to what is probably the tinkerer’s own embarrassment, Fwhip even starts to lean into the touch, and has to stifle a happy purr and the sensation of someone’s warm hand ghosting over them. He’s like a cat, Jimmy;s boyfriend is, the most adorable one out there.

"They're beautiful, darling."  The cod murmurs, placing a delicate kiss to one of the wings. Under him, Fwhip shudders again, and a flush starts to travel from his face all the way to his neck and the tips of his ears, right where his partner could see it.

“....Thank you.” The ginger huffs, deciding he is done with the moment. Jimmy pulls back, sensing that fact, and watches as his partner gets his wings back in order to how they normally are. Hidden underneath his shirt, and sometimes bound. He hopes that one day, fwhip will feel comfortable enough around Jimmy, that he will not feel much need to hide such beautiful parts of him. But if that day takes a few more years, and a few more personal hurdles to jump over, then the cod is more than comfortable to wait for that day. However long his boyfriend needs, he will wait.

“No problem, my little dragon.” He says, and Fwhip flops back against him, still blushing like a madman. He is in Jimmy’s hold again, shifting until he is once again comfortable and content. The prince hums as they resume their earlier positions, going to play with the others' hair as if nothing had ever happened. He thinks Fwhip prefers it that way.

"I love you." Is what’s muttered against his shirt a moment later, slightly muffled. But despite that the cod can tell that it is genuine. Those words have never been anything but, coming from the man under him.

"Love you, too." Jimmy smiles, and peppers a few kisses into his boyfriend’s hair, more than content to spend the rest of his day and then some like this. The previous moment only stays in his mind for a second, before being stored away as one of his favorite memories with Fwhip, though they are probably plenty more of those to come.

____________________

One of the couple’s meetings, near five years into their relationship, is outside once again. And also once again, a certain someone catches an unexpecting prince by total surprise, a habit Jimmy is starting to think his boyfriend enjoys. Especially since, after scaring him near half to death, the Fwhip laughs and giggles to himself like he’s that mischievous little seventeen year old again.

“Fwhip!” Jimmy exclaims, surprised by the others' sudden appearance. “You’re not supposed to be here!” He feels like he says that a lot with this guy, who likes to sneak in whenever he has any sort of opportunity. It's sweet, really, and Jimmy wouldn't trade it for the world. Though this time he really isn't supposed to be here, as the gardens are far too open for the prince's liking. But Fwhip has never cared for such details, much to his partners utter exasperation. 

“I know,” The ginger smiles, reaching out to grab the prince’s hands, and to hold them in his. “But I missed you.” They do that a lot, Jimmy finds, holding each other's hands like that. It’s one of those things about Fwhip that comes naturally to do, like how breathing and blinking does.

"You sap." He teases, leaning closer to his partner. Maybe the cod is trying to steal a kiss already, within maybe a minute or two of seeing each other. Though Fwhip won’t humor him, not just yet anyways. The dragon sees what he;s trying to do, and decides to be cheeky about it, leaning his back every time Jimmy tries to do the opposite. 

"You know you missed me too!" Fwhip purrs, moving so he can wrap his arms around Jimmy’s neck. He doesn’t kiss him, not yet, nor properly, but a sweet peck is pressed into the cod’s cheek, and another placed right next to it. And maybe a few more after that, dotting his face.

Jimmy giggles at the feeling of the slow, peppered kisses, trying to lean in further still. "I did." He let his body relax, and his arms went to rest casually on his partner’s waist, keeping the two of them in position. Like they were going to be moving anytime soon. 

“Well, now that you're here, what do you want to do?” He continues, feeling both of their bodies start to swag a bit, like there was an invisible rhythm they both knew to follow, and to follow it without instinct. Maybe it wasn’t there, only in Jimmy’s mind, or maybe it was the natural rhythm that came from the two just being together, around each other again.

“Is just standing here not enough for you?” Fwhip says with a fond roll of his eyes. He leans in a bit more as he speaks, just to tease him. If Jimmy didn’t love him so much, he would consider breaking apart and punching him for being so mean. 

“No.” He said, shooting the other a look, one that said he knew exactly what he was doing. Fwhip just laughed, no longer able to hold it in. But Jimmy was determined, and would not give up on his one very simple goal, even if his boyfriend was currently laughing so hard he couldn't breathe, he would not relent!

“....Kiss me? And then we can go to the gardens?” He suggests hopefully, once the other’s little giggle fit had calmed down in full, and maybe after sharing a few snickers of his own. The prince couldn’t help it, his partner's laugh was just so beautiful, so infectious. 

Fwhip’s tone is curious when he next speaks, his eyes shining with the same emotion. Jimmy loves that look on him, and makes sure to mention it later, even if he already has at least five times before. “And do what in there?”

“Make flower crowns, if you’re into that.” The prince pitches his idea a little sheepishly, knowing how….silly it might sound. How some people would giggle and call him some kind of hopeless romantic, or even childish or girlish for wanting to do such a thing. However, he knows the dragon hybrid probably won’t do such a thing, but still gets all embarrassed over it nonetheless.

“That's an adorable idea, actually.” Fwhip’s eyes widen, and his expression twists into something so fond and soft, it makes the blonde’s heart ache with something fierce. “I’d be delighted.” Once those words are said, the inventor finally leans in, finally closing the decently small gap between them. Jimmy smiles into it, and his one wish for that day is finally fulfilled.

____________________

One day, after five years of officially being together, Jimmy is brought something by one of the palace workers. One of his personal servants, the little parrot avian that goes by the name of Grian. The prince has grown particularly close with this servant after all these years, nearly a decade, of working and living alongside each other. The bird hybrid is like a brother too him. So as soon as he sees the rather grim and worried look on Grian’s face, one his friend does not sport often, the blonde’s heart drops to the pit of his stomach. 

He takes what the servant brings him, the smaller man not being able to meet his gaze. Something;s gone wrong, horribly wrong, and the prince is scared to even try and imagine what that something could be, a million horrible possibilities all running through his head at once. 

Jimmy looks at what Grian had brought him with a nervous gulp, and thinks he's going to throw up. It's the latest newspaper, and right on the front page is an article. An article about him and Fwhip being together. They'd even got a picture of it as well. The two must not have been as well hidden as they thought that day, on Fwhip’s last visit, they must've been too out in the open. Stupid, that's what they were, they were stupid-

The cod takes a breath, and steadies himself. He can’t let his thoughts spiral, he can’t go on a self blaming rant right now. Right now, he needs to get to Fwhip, before any other person can. Jimmy needs to get to his partner, before anyone in this castle, save Grian, gets to the prince himself first.

He stands from where he’d been sitting, newspaper forgotten, and leaves his room. The prince speedwalks through the castle, like a man on a mission, because he is one. He’s a man on a very important mission, to find his boyfriend ASAP.  Jimmy starts to beeline for their usual meeting spots, those being his room, the gardens, and the library’s balcony, oddly enough. Or any balcony really, or any other place that Fwhip can easily unlock. If his partner is not in the castle yet, well he will just have to sneak out and find him himself. He thinks the dragon hybrid had given him his address anyway and that he remembered it, probably. Hopefully.

He checks the gardens first, and gets a lucky guess. There, moving between some of the plants, is a very frantic Fwhip. Their eyes meet for one small second, each man sharing the same panicked expression, and Jimmy wastes no time near running across the garden until he is buy Fwhip’s side once more, for what could possible be the last time. God knows what’s going to become of him, once the rest of the kingdom finds out. (Jimmy had never really considered it before, the danger of what they’ve been doing, but now it is hitting him smack in the face, and it's truly terrifying for the both of them.)

Before either of them knows what's happening, he is crashing into Fwhip’s arms, and they are holding onto each other tightly. Like they are the other man's lifeline, like the other is the only thing keeping them upright. His partner's hold has never felt so comforting yet horrifying all at once. "They found out." Jimmy breathes, looking into his boyfriend’s wide eyes, fear clearly reflected in them. The prince’s heart twists itself into knots.

"I know. I don't care." Fwhip says, going to cup both of his cheeks in his hands. Jimmy leans into the touch, the warmth, extremely aware for the first time that he should not even be doing so, let alone enjoying it. "I won't stop seeing you."

"What would your family think-" Jimmy starts, and is quickly cut off as soon as he does so. The hold on his face tightens, and he places his own hands ontop of the ones holding him so lovingly, despite everything crashing around them.

"Gem won't care, and my parents can fuck right off. I won't stop seeing you, not for anything.” Fwhips snarls, sounding more sure than he ever had of anything in his life, More sure than he ever had about any of the inventions or ideas he rambled about, more sure than anything in the whole wide world. "What about yours?" The ginger asks, clearly and predictably more concerned about his partner's safety than he is his own. Like his boyfriend doesn;t have plot armor in the form of being literal royalty.

"I don't know what they're gonna say. I'm too scared." Jimmy admits, after a quiet moment of thought. His first and only one until that point had been finding Fwhip, but now that he had done so, the prince had to face the other problems that came with that damn newspaper article. And once he took a second to think about all the other consequences and reactions to this, he found that he didn’t want to go and face any of them.

"Wasn't your mom from a village? Like I am?" Fwhips asks, recalling all the information he learned of the royal family through the years. He’d learned it all somehow, either through word of mouth of Jimmy himself talking about it, and now seemed like a damn good time to finally make all that knowledge useful. 

Jimmy mumbles out his response, getting cut off by a stubbornly persistent dragon hybrid, the one still clutching onto his face like he’ll die without doing so. "Yeah but-"

"They can't say anything then, or they're hypocrites!" Fwhip exclaims, his brows furrowing. He sounds like he’s just found the loophole, the solution to everything. But he is not a noble, the dragon hybrid does not know how high class society tends to work. He does not know the life Jimmy lives and all its details, he does not know the cod’s parents. But the prince does, he knows all that better than he would like, and knows that what his boyfriend had said is not a solution, but more likely to be another problem more than anything. 

"They can't say anything publicly, but privately... " He points out, well aware of all the words his parents, and maybe even Lizzie, could be slinging at him in less than an hour. “And you're not a merfolk, you're a dragon. You know how some people feel about that stuff…”

"Shit." Fwhip breathes out softly, the horrible reality of this all hitting him for the second time that day. They had no good way around this, no way out. Both of them would be in deep trouble, to varying degrees of course, but still in trouble. All with the lingering possibility they would never be allowed to meet again, or maybe something worse, if Jimmy’s father is a crueler man than he was raised to believe he was. 

"I won't stop seeing you. Never. You mean the world to me." Jimmy reassures him. He takes Fwhip’s hands off his face, so he can hold them in his own, like the two of them always do. He interlocks their fingers, and can only hope the familiar action is starting to bring his partner the same comfort it is starting to bring him. "I love you." He says, and prays it's not the last time he’ll do so.

"I know." Fwhip responds quickly, simply. He doesn’t need to say the full phrase back, those two words are enough to get everything across and then some. Small phrases have been able to mean that for a while now, able to carry such emotion without even saying much in the first place.

"Remember, when I said courting implies marriage?" Jimmy says, after allowing himself a fleeting second to think, his eyes lighting up with something. Something he doesn’t quite dare call hope just yet. But maybe…just maybe…he’s found the solution. Get married, legally, before anyone else had a chance to intervene, despite all the uproar it was sure to cause. Though everything after this would cause an uproar of some kind, so the one that got the prince the husband he wanted really sounded like the only good option at this point. 

"Yeah?" Fwhip says, sounding a little hesitant. But there is a slight, new hope starting to form under all that unsureness, and it buzzes around the both of them like a wave of electricity. Their electricity, their hope for something better.

"Do we want to go ahead and do that? Finish our courting? Now that everyone knows?" The prince pitches his idea, letting that hope rear its wonderful, wonderful head for the first time since he’d gotten it, even if that had only been a minute before. Fwhip’s grip on his hand tightens, and he already knows the other feels the same way about all this.

The ginger smiles up at him, fond, earnest, and like he can’t believe what he just heard. "I'd love that." He breathes, and cracks the first smile Jimmy had seen from him in their short time together that day. Hopefully, a few more are to follow from both of them. 

"So you'll marry me?" The blonde asks. It’s a stupid question, one he should already know the answer to. Jimmy does that a lot, so the man in front of him says, asks stupid questions he should already know the answer too. Apparently it makes him all the more endearing.

"In a heartbeat." Fwhip’s response is small, smile, and two words again. One of those small phrases that had come to mean something, while never having said much in the first place. He squeezes the cod’s hands together in his, the action being a lot more hopeful than it had been just a minute or so before.

They lapse into a momentary silence, until Jimmy speaks again. He could tell both of them were processing, unsure what to say, the realization of what they;d just agreed to, hitting both of them like a wave. They’d both agreed to one of the biggest things you could agree too, and they hadn;t even had a ring or a plan or anything. Bunch of idiots, the two of them where. "...Is that it? Are we engaged?" Fwhip asks, his tone having to be full of absolute bewilderment. But a good kind, if that made any sense.

"I guess so. Unless you want me to do a proper proposal?" Jimmy shrugs, the last words meant to be entirely unserious. Doing a proper proposal would blow, like, the whole plan they just made to get secretly married. Which was pretty counterproductive, and not at all helping his still lingering paranoia of what that news article was going to do to their lives.

"Oh the journalists would love that." Fwhip exclaims with a giggle. "Upcoming prince proposes to a poor boy!" He draws out the last words, exaggerating them as best as he could. The prince has to hold back a snort, for this isn't really a time for giggles.

"It wouldn't have to be public -" He mutters, finding himself a little embarrassed and blushing red. Fwhip, ever one for the dramatic, isn’t having any of that. The cod briefly wonders if he;s using all the jokes and joy as a distraction from thoughts of whatever horrible thing might soon befall the two of them. Like Jimmy himself might slightly be doing already.

"But then it would just be silly, because we already know we're getting married. If it was public we could make a show out of it!" The dragon says, his wings fluttering from where they are bound under his shirt. Jimmy knows he has to agree here, and holds back a sigh. That would, indeed, be quite the show for the people. 

"Mm, you have a point." He mumbled, finally feeling a proper smile start to form on his face. It’s the first one he’s cracked all day, and it's because of his boyfriend, surprise, surprise. A lot of his smiles are because of this guy, even on the worst day for their relationship yet.

"Why're you smiling like that?" Fwhip asks, bemused, and like a similar smile isn’t mirroring itself on his face at that very moment, likely for the same reason the prince is flashing his own. They had just gotten engaged on the spot, after all.

"Because you're gonna be my husband, idiot." The prince rolls his eyes fondly, before continuing what else had been on his mind, and had been since his proposal just minutes before. “How are we doing this marriage thing anyways?” They had the idea down, but now the two needed to actually execute it, which was always a lot harder done than said, in Jimmy’s experience so far.

Fwhip makes an on the spot plan, something the blonde has found he;s quite good at doing. And usually, the plans are good and work out, like all his sneaking in, so Jimmy had learned to not mind that tendency of his over the years. “We could always run and get eloped in the woods? That would save a lot of headache.”

Jimmy beams upon hearing the idea, his tail starting to flick excitedly behind him. “Just several days of seeing you? All the time? And we get married in the end? I like that idea.” He is on board immediately, because of course he is. It’s for all the reasons he just listed above, but also because a wedding in the woods sounds adorable, genuinely. And also the most perfect thing he’s ever heard in his whole life.

“What about when we come back?” Fwhip, a smile still stayed etched onto his face, asks one last question, voicing what seems to be the last of his uncertainties. Well, the last ones for now at least. There are certainly a few more of those to come in the nearing days. But it is nothing the two of them can’t handle, not if they are together.

“We'll cross the bridge when we get to it.” Jimmy says, promises it. Fwhip smiles at him for what has to be the billionth time since their first meeting, what has to be going on eight years ago now, and the prince smiles back like he always does. For the first time, he knows that everything with them is going to be okay, because nothing in the world could tear him from this man. From his boyfriend, his soon to be husband.

And speaking of that, the two of them better start moving, and fast. They have a little marriage in the woods to plan, and what has to be a hell of a lot of preparations for it. But it will be worth it, Jimmy knows it in his soul, if he gets to see this guy everyday after this. It will all have been worth it.

He thinks maybe, that instead of the middle of the woods, they should be married in an apple orchard instead, and turns to pitch the idea to his finance.

#ron.fic #ron.writing #jimmy solidarity #fwhimmy #empires smp s1 #empiresshipping #This is one of my favorites hehe #I WAS SUPOSSED TO POST THIS SUNDAY....UMMMM #hi guys take ur 12k word fwhimmy 2 days late. im going to bed (lying) #fwhip

[hithisisboo]

Scenario time.

The Hermits have started to settled. Their campsite is set, their crops are growing, they’ve started a shop to fit in with the other empires.

It is somewhat normal. The other empires are still confused by these strange nomads, and their weird customs. And the Hermits still can’t seem to understand the lack of a diamond currency.

Whenever they appear in another kingdom, they bring diamonds as payment. Bartering is strange.

A group have arrived in Tumble Town, the Saloon. The Bard is playing there for a few nights, and what better way to partake in the strange lands customs then sharing a drink with there leaders and rulers.

Night sets, the building is filled with songs, chatter, laughter and the clinks of glasses. But as the clock turns late into the night, the town bell rings, quickly silencing the place.

The Sheriff rushes out, as a citizen runs to tell him a few houses have been set a light. The Tumble Town Bandits have returned, only to run back into hiding. Those in the saloon help to put out the fire, but Jimmy is enraged. He thought he had caught every last one of them, and more have returned, more dangerous then those he caught.

He is not a corrupt sheriff, no matter the jokes. But perhaps it is better to be unjust, unfair, if it is to keep his town safe.

And a cool hand grabs his own, and pulls him out of anger. The strange Hermit, blue and cold, tells him to breathe, just breathe. There’s a sense of déjà vu. It’s familiar, but also not. But, The Sheriff does breathe, taking breaths as the blue hermit does, and he does calm down. Long enough to focus on putting out the fires, making sure everyone is okay, finding places for those now homeless to sleep.

..take a breather, take a day…

#empires smp #empires smp season 2 #empires season 2 #Hermitcraft #hermitcraft x empires #solidaritygaming #tangotek #hermitcraft tango #empires jimmy #team rancher #rancher duo

[obwjam]

It's Not Safe For You Here (Stargate Atlantis: Carson Beckett x tiny!reader)

a/n: behold, folks: my very first commission! requested by the wonderful and lovely @blueskimmer! i love how this turned out and i'm very happy i got to put this together for them 💞 i hope you all enjoy!

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You just couldn’t believe your luck.

It usually went something like this: A Wraith ship came zooming out of the ring with that weird glowing light, taking as many people as it felt like. Within minutes, it was gone. It came through every so often, but because the giant village you called home was small, by human standards, the ship’s visits were few and far between. In the last couple of years, you had only seen seven, maybe eight, ring activations.

Of course a ship of unfathomable size descended on your home in the middle of your midnight borrowing trip.

It was pure, unadulterated chaos. People were screaming, dirt was flying, and you couldn’t see a thing. Whenever the Wraith came, you situated yourself in your little bunker until daylight, and this time was no different. You just had to climb down the water well and get to it.

What you didn’t fully realize was that a giant ship meant that there were Wraith on the ground as well as in the air. Debris was flying from every angle as weapons were fired and houses were set ablaze.

All it took was one errant rock to send you tumbling down.

It happened in an instant—so fast that you don’t even remember getting plunked. It was a pebble, really, something that wouldn’t have normally thrown you, but it came flying at such a breakneck speed that it immediately knocked you out, and off your feet.

When you came to, you had to blink away the light that flooded your vision. You groaned and tried to sit up, but immediately fell down when you realized you couldn’t. Your arm was twisted in a way that was not normal. You silently cursed yourself before realizing you had no choice but to get up and run. Things were hitting the ground at a rapid pace, and you had fallen off the well and were out in the open. You couldn’t believe nothing had happened to you while you were passed out.

So for the rest of the night, you stayed hidden behind the cover of grass and leaves. You managed to situate yourself underneath some fallen rock so if anything came tumbling down from above, you would hopefully be safe.

It was torture. You watched as hundreds of villagers dwindled down into a few dozen in a span of hours as the Wraith stunned them and dragged them back to their ship. The thought of getting snatched up by one of those aliens was enough to send you into a panic.

You didn’t realize you had eventually fallen asleep when the noise finally died down, but before you knew it, you were jolted awake by the sound of voices that cut through your ringing ears.

Voices you didn’t recognize.

“Oh, no…” Sheppard said as soon as his eyes fell on the scene before him. They were set to start trade with this planet—in exchange for some medicine, they would receive bountiful crops for the mainland. They certainly didn’t anticipate a culling happening in the week since they had been here.

“You’ve got to be kidding!” Rodney cried. “When did this happen?”

“It looks like they were just here,” Ronon observed. “Some of these buildings are still smoldering.”

“Oh dear,” Carson mumbled. It wasn’t often he got to witness the destruction of the Wraith firsthand, and he almost couldn’t believe that just a week ago, this was a bustling village with hundreds of people walking about. Guess he and his medical supplies weren’t needed on this mission anymore.

As the others began to drift off into different parts of the village to investigate, Carson, left with nothing to do, started to aimlessly wander toward the water well in the center of the destroyed town square.

That’s when he saw you.

He gasped to himself, blinking a few times to make sure he wasn’t just hallucinating. Right on the ground, gaping up at him in shock and fear, was a tiny little human.

He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Truthfully, he was surprised they didn’t encounter more species in Pegasus that weren’t human, but never in a million years would he have anticipated a humanoid creature as small as a mouse. He wasn’t sure if it was just the aftermath of a culling, but a closer look revealed to him how disheveled you were. Your clothes—more like rags—were draped over your figure like loose robes, and your shoes were nothing more than thick, makeshift pieces of cloth. Your hair was unruly at best, and your skin was caked with dirt, scrapes and bruises.

“Oh my god…” he whispered with equal parts concern and amazement. “What… what are you?”

You were shaking so hard you couldn’t stop yourself. Everything in your body hurt like hell, but it didn’t matter. At the absolute worst time possible, you had been spotted. He was wearing a thick vest with what looked like a million little pockets, and he was carrying a giant case that was unlike anything you had ever seen.

In your half-lucid state, you got the bright idea to try and hide from the giant. You managed to get on your feet, but you couldn’t take more than a few steps before your legs turned to jelly and you collapsed. Instinctively, Carson lurched forward, and in the disarray of it all, you shrieked and twisted your body away to brace for anything the giant might do.

At your sudden movement, Carson recoiled. Did he do something wrong? Was he scaring you? That was a stupid question. Of course he was scaring you. The doctor knew he had to help, but he also knew he couldn’t just scoop you up and take you back to Atlantis, no matter how much he wanted to. He had to make sure you weren’t so terrified of him first.

“Hey, hey…” he said gently, trying to mask his own shaking voice. He cringed at how big he felt trying to talk to you, so he slowly crouched down, not missing the way your eyes widened as he got closer. “I’m not going to hurt you, little one. My name’s Carson Beckett, and I’m a doctor. I just want to help.”

You could only stare blankly at this human with an incredibly bizarre accent. You knew he was trying to make you feel better, but a doctor? The ones that poke and prod and touch? Nuh-uh. No way.

“I promise, I won’t hurt you,” Carson said again. He felt like it needed repeating. “It’s not safe for you here. Let me take you back to Atlantis and we can—”

“NO!” you shrieked suddenly, surprising both you and him. You had no idea what Atlantis was, but you knew it couldn’t be good. “N-no, ple-please… I…”

Carson had subconsciously put his hand on his knee to rest, but once he noticed the way your eyes were tracking its every movement, he sheepishly pulled it back.

“Look, I know you must be scared down there. I know I would be if I were in your shoes,” he started. “But you’re in bad shape, dear, and if the Wraith come back again, you’ll be stuck here with nowhere to go.”

Your stomach dropped when he said that. You couldn’t even fathom the Wraith coming back like that again. There’s no way I would survive.

“Let me help you, and you’ll be back on your feet in no time,” he said softly, putting a smile on his face to show he was friendly. “I can take you somewhere safe and fix you all up.”

You instantly shook your head no, and when the doctor cocked his eyebrow, you knew you had to defend yourself.

“I… please, I can’t… I can’t go anywhere with you.”

Carson had to bite his tongue to stop himself from gushing over how cute your tiny voice was. “Why not, love?”

“Because… you’re a human.”

He sniffed an amused laugh before a feeling of unease washed over him. The fact that this little guy needed to distinguish themself as non-human was intriguing.

“What’s so wrong with being human?” he implored.

At that, you clammed up. After years and years of living in secret, you weren’t about to blurt out the borrower code now.

Carson sighed. You were clearly frightened out of your wits, and it didn’t seem like talking would get him very far. Maybe if he could get through to you just how bad your injuries were, you would be more inclined to trust him.

“It’s alright that you don’t want to chit-chat, but as a doctor, I can’t just stand by and let your injuries go untreated! You could be seriously hurt, and I have a responsibility to help you, even if... even if you are just a wee lad who can fit into my pocket!”

You were surprised at his sudden outburst—and amused at being called a “wee lad”—but he was right. You were badly injured, and you didn’t have the means to fix yourself, let alone hunt for food, water and shelter in this state. At this rate, you’d be dead in a week anyway.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself for what you were about to say.

“…Okay.”

Carson perked up. “Okay what?”

“Okay… you can help me.”

A grin grew across the doctor’s face. You clenched your jaw as his hand gently descended palm-up next to you, eagerly awaiting your arrival onto it. You gawked at it in horror—his fingers were taller than your body, and his palm came up to your ankles—but there was no going back now.

Carson’s breath hitched as you dragged yourself onto his palm, tiny hands pressing deep into his skin for support. He was sure that he’d never been more nervous than he was right now—your life was literally in his hands. He stayed surprisingly still, even through your struggle to get your legs moving without being in crippling pain. Your form was so small in his hand, and yet, it was like he has the most important task in the world. He could feel your every little movement, down to your deep breaths and trembles. His heart fluttered with each and every one of them.

Once you were situated, he took a breath. Your eyes were trained on the ground, refusing to look up and deal with just how big he was.

“I’m going to stand up now,” he warned. “Are you ready?”

A tiny, nervous nod. His heart fluttered again.

You had to close your eyes when he stretched out to his full height—you had never changed altitudes so fast before. In a moment of panic, you reached out and grabbed onto the closest thing for support, which happened to be Caron’s thumb. He let out a small Oh!, which just made both of you blush.

Grabbing his medical kit with his free hand, he briskly, yet smoothly, made his way over to a now-empty house to give you some privacy. He pushed away his feelings of unease at the reality of the situation to focus on the task at hand.

Placing his kit on one side of the table, he laid his palm down on the other, his expression soft.

“It’s okay, you’re safe here,” he reassured you, noticing how you nervously eyed the new landscape.

His mouth hung slightly agape as you ambled off his hand, utterly fascinated at something so small moving around. He couldn’t even fathom what this place looked like to you right now.

You watched with wary eyes as he opened his impossibly large case and began to take out tools you had never seen before. He quickly glanced down at you and frowned at your sudden change of expression. He quickly realized just how scary his instruments must look to you.

“Don’t worry,” he stated, “I don’t need to use all of these. I’m mainly looking for… these.” He pulled out some gauze and tape and set them both aside.

“Do you have a name, little one?” he asked suddenly. He supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised when you didn’t answer. He began snipping off small pieces of gauze. “My team and I came here through the stargate hoping to trade, but…” he trailed off. Not only did he want to forget about the culling, but he especially didn’t want to think about you witnessing it. The thought of being so small during something so destructive made him want to vomit.

He shook off his anxiety and continued. “Can I at least ask how you got so banged up?”

You kept your eyes trained on the dents and scratches of the old wood you sat on. “I fell.”

“Fell?” Carson repeated. You merely nodded. “From where? When? How long had you been on the ground?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out. Your jaw was quivering at just how many questions this guy was asking. He wanted so much information, and you weren’t even willing to give up your name.

Carson pursed his lips. These were all standard questions he’d ask any patient, but he had to keep reminding himself that you were not just any patient. So he decided to keep his inquiries simple.

“So,” he sighed. “What hurts, love?”

You sniffed a laugh. What didn’t?

Carson saw your expression and gave you a small smile. “Right. Sorry. Stupid question, huh?”

You had to admit, it was fascinating watching him move around. He was snipping off pieces of that… whatever it was… and carefully laying them down. His gaze kept flickering between you and whatever he was doing. He didn’t even hesitate.

“Would you say anything’s broken?” he tried. He was still hoping for a verbal answer, but he settled for the impossibly small nod you gave him. Another heart flutter.

“You’re going to have to give me specifics,” he said with a small laugh. He gave you another look-over and frowned—you were wringing your hands and avoiding eye contact at all costs.

It seemed that he had a little more work to do than normal.

“Hey,” he started, putting the scissors down. He spotted a rickety stool nearby and pulled it over, taking a cautious seat as you gawked up at him. He leaned down, still in awe at how everyday objects simply towered over you. “You’re doing great, dear. I know you don’t want to talk to me, but just being here is very brave of you, you know.”

You looked up with a half-bewildered, half-flattered expression. There was this twinkle in your eyes as you tried to suss out how genuine this human was, and it was like you could see your own fascination mirrored in Carson’s own softly curious gaze.

“I’m serious!” he continued. “God knows if the roles were reversed, I’d probably have passed out by now. It can’t be easy being so… small in a giant world, I imagine.”

You stared at him in amazement. How could he possibly know what it’s like? What kind of giant would even try and empathize? That’s not what humans did in the stories you were told. Giants would snatch you up, stick you in a jar and torture you for fun. This one… this one was the exact opposite.

And that meant something to you.

“Kona.”

At the very sound of your voice, Carson felt his cheeks flush red. You were so adorable it hurt.

“What was that?”

“Kona. My-my name.” You cringed at how helpless you sounded. “You asked me for my name.”

“Kona…” Carson repeated. “What a lovely name.”

Your face went hot. Why did his compliments mean so much to you? You barely knew him.

“…I think my arm might be broken.”

“Oh, dear,” Carson mumbled. “Look, love, the best I can do right now is wrap it up a bit so you don’t aggravate it anymore…. but I’m afraid I can’t do much more unless I take you back to Atlantis.”

A pause.

“I know you don’t trust me, but I think you know as well as I do that it’s just not safe to stay here anymore. You could get hurt even more, or worse.” He gave it a moment for his words to sink in, and he could tell you understood. “Everything is destroyed here. There’s no reason to stay.” Another pause. “Please, Kona.”

Your heart skipped a beat when he said your name. You were a borrower that lived by yourself in a giant village on a strange planet—nobody ever said your name that wasn’t you. But the way this human said it… it had meaning. A purpose. Like he loved the way it sounded and knew how well it fit you.

You had never felt this way before.

“Okay,” you quavered, trying not to sound so scared this time. “I’ll go with you.”

It took Carson only a few minutes to pack up his things. Instead of trying to do it himself, he insisted that you wrap the gauze around your own arm, and he made sure to show you—from a distance, of course—the proper way to do it.

Climbing on his hand the second time was not nearly as petrifying as the first. Gripping his thumb seemed to be the easiest way to hold steady, but Carson didn’t mind. He thought it was the cutest thing in the world.

“This is probably the last thing you want to hear, but I came to this planet with four other people,” he explained as he sauntered out of the house. “And the place we’re going… it’s pretty big, even to me.” He chuckled at the fact that he just said that. “There will be a lot of people there, and you might have to meet quite a few of them. Are you okay with that?”

From his hand, it was like you were seeing this planet in a completely new light. Everything was destroyed here, but at least from this vantage point, it didn’t seem so bad anymore. Maybe this isn’t so bad after all.

“Yeah,” you finally replied after a somber moment. For the first time in a long time, you found yourself smiling as you turned your head around and looked up at Carson. He was beaming right back down at you.

“I think I’m okay with that.”

#fuck yeah stargate g/t you guys!!!! #this entire franchise is so underrated #the potential is literally limitless #thank you again for requesting this :))))) #i could have written an entire novel with this #i also wrote like three different beginnings before settling on this one LOL #the ideas man i'm telling you #obwrites #g/t #giant/tiny #stargate atlantis #stargate

[ladylynse]

A RC9GN ficlet that's a prequel to this three sentence fic, as my half of a fic/art trade with @imadumdumjewel.

In which Viceroy learns of his father's death.

Also on AO3

-|-

“He’s gone.”

Viceroy’s mother had never been one to mince words, but the death of Willem Viceroy II had practically stolen them from her entirely.

They’d been stolen from Viceroy too, clearly, or he’d be doing something other than staring blankly at his computer screen while still holding to his ear the phone he technically was not supposed to answer during work hours.

Not that he’d ever abided by that, especially with McFist. Work hours for McFist were hardly normal work hours. Viceroy made sure he was paid his overtime, and that overtime was substantial. If he didn’t take a personal call now and then, he’d have no contact with anyone outside of McFist Industries except when he dragged his sleep-deprived body to mundane places like the grocery store.

And he’d never been one to ignore his mother.

Typically, his parents never wanted to bother him while he was at work, always apologizing whenever they did, so when Eva had called now—

He’d known something must have happened.

When she’d spoken, the sudden pain inside him had solidified and settled over his lungs, making it difficult to breathe. He hadn’t been able to find the words to ask, but some part of him had known even before she cleared her throat and choked out a clarification. “Your father. He’s gone.”

What was he supposed to say to that? How? Why? When? His father hadn’t been sick. There had been nothing in the news in terms of accidents. Viceroy always made very sure that no WNDs ever tracked to that side of town, to the point that the old neighbourhood had gained the reputation of being a safe one to live in. His diligence meant the neighbourhood itself was turning around, becoming revitalized. His parents enjoyed—

No.

Not his parents, not anymore.

Now it was just his mother.

“Wim? You still there?”

Right.

He hadn’t said anything, had he?

“What happened?” It came out as a croak, though some part of Viceroy was surprised the words made it past the lump in his throat at all. It felt too large for anything to slip by, and the iron banding his chest was hardly helping matters.

He couldn’t see the computer screen in front of him any longer; it was all a blur of bright white and colour, even once he blinked and the tears started to fall.

“He wasn’t feeling well.” Eva’s words came in a rush, and suddenly one sentence was tumbling over the next like she was trying to get the words out before her voice failed her again. “I took him into the hospital two days ago, and he was feeling better after a transfusion. They ran their tests and thought he’d be discharged tomorrow. He didn’t want to worry you with it. It—” Her voice cracked. “It wasn’t supposed to be anything serious. His heart….”

She didn’t finish, but she hardly needed to. Viceroy knew about the family heart. It had taken Uncle Otto three years ago, his grandmother Maud before his parents had even gotten married, and had had Aunt Mila in and out of the hospital with one problem or another for years. His father had (had had) a pacemaker, but he’d always been fine beyond that. A little out of breath whenever he had to walk any distance, sure, and on a fistful of medications to manage potential problems before they could crop up and make things worse, but—

Viceroy hadn’t realized it was this bad.

He would have taken some of his vacation time if he’d known.

He wouldn’t have taken his last vacation in France if he’d known.

It had been six weeks since he’d seen his parents despite them living across town, and he’d only seen them then because he’d specifically made sure he could be there for his mother’s birthday supper. And to check in on Nicolas, technically, but they knew to keep him away from fire. They’d been as smitten with him as Viceroy had been—and still was—so when he’d asked if they’d give Nicolas a proper home in the first place and they’d agreed, he hadn’t been worried. Inability to take care of someone, even if that someone wasn’t strictly another person, had never been a failing of theirs.

“I-I should have been there,” Viceroy said, his words sounding thick and garbled as he forced them out. It felt as if a stone had lodged in his throat, and he had to take shallow breaths to avoid breaking down entirely. There was plenty of time for that later. If he just didn’t think about it—

But he couldn’t think about anything else.

Especially not right now.

His father—

Viceroy sniffed and reached up to wipe his face with a tissue before the tears could run any farther. Not that it would help much—enough tears had already tracked into his beard before he’d found something—but he’d need the tissue for his nose in a moment anyway. If he hadn’t been wearing his lab coat, he might’ve used his sleeve for the tears, maybe even for his nose, but just because he didn’t always work in a lab, it didn’t mean he wanted what was on his lab coat anywhere near the sensitive tissues of his face.

But that didn’t matter right now.

What mattered was that he should have been there and he hadn’t been. He hadn’t even known. Part of him wanted to lash out and say you should have told me, but he knew why they hadn’t. He was busy at work, he had all those important secret projects to do, they didn’t want to bother him— They gave him back the same excuses he gave them whenever he was using his work at McFist Industries to get out of attending family functions that turned his stomach into knots, and his parents added a few of their own excuses to boot.

He hadn’t perfected time travel yet—the latest attempt where he’d thought he’d gotten it right had turned out to be an unmitigated disaster, and the memory of the smell still haunted him sometimes—but even once he did hammer out all the kinks, going back to all of this would be less of an option for him the more he learned about the situation.

It wouldn’t be an option at all, really. He couldn’t simply not learn about this situation. He needed to know things. Besides, who knew how long it would take him to successfully time travel? Trying to slip back for one more visit would only help him if he figured things out soon, before he’d changed to a point that it would be noticeable.

Some rules were made for the breaking, but others were very much there for a reason.

Revealing anything that might be useful for the ultimate domination or destruction of the world had never been encouraged at MSU; too many other aspiring mad scientists had eyes and ears everywhere, ready to snatch up research or ideas to use for themselves. When Viceroy did perfect time travel, McFist would be the only one to know about it.

Well, McFist and the Sorcerer, because McFist was almost certain to tell the Sorcerer.

And Marci, come to that. McFist couldn’t keep secrets from Marci. Not without her knowing he was trying to keep a secret from her and letting him keep it despite that, anyway. But no one else would know, and that’s how Viceroy intended to keep it until he was ready to pull his big move.

He had no idea how he’d start any of that, though, and now wasn’t the time to try. He should get to the hospital. Or his parents’ home? Was Eva home? They’d given up their landline last year, so it was no surprise that she was calling from her cellphone, but—

“Do you think you can get tonight off?”

Technically, Viceroy was supposed to have every night off.

His mother knew it didn’t work that way.

“I’ll get off now,” he said. His own words still sounded hollow, distant, like he wasn’t the one speaking at all. Otto, chiming in that the newest WND was ready for testing, sounded more real than he did.

“No,” Eva said, and Viceroy wondered if she could hear Otto as well as he could. “We—I—know how busy you are. Tonight is fine. Mila came to stay with me.”

Aunt Mila had come. She lived half a day’s drive from here. When had she heard that her brother was in the hospital? When had she suspected she might not see him again if she didn’t go when she had the chance? When had she known that she’d been right?

Viceroy managed to say something in response, though he forgot what the words were the moment they left his mouth. Gratitude? Protest, an insistence that he come immediately anyway? Something that didn’t actually make sense?

Whatever it was, Eva accepted it, so it must have made some amount of sense.

Maybe he’d said I’ll get there when I can. He planned to get there when he could, and he planned for that to be almost immediately, but he still had to go through McFist.

Not drive, though.

Probably wouldn’t be a good thing to drive right now.

He’d borrow a Robo-Ape.

“I love you,” Eva said, and Viceroy echoed it immediately. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d said it to his father; he wasn’t going to ignore the opportunity to say it to his mother when it was true in both cases.

Eva hung up, and Viceroy found himself listening to the dial tone. When he did finally hang up, he stared numbly at the phone in his hand. He’d had opportunities to see his parents in the last six weeks. Why hadn’t he taken them? Why had he always made excuses? Why had he always counted on the fact that there’d be another time, when he was a little less busy, a little less stressed?

Otto piped up again with, “Construction on the Robo-Spider is completed, sir. It is ready for testing. Would you like to commence testing?”

Viceroy put a hand to his chest instead of answering. He could feel the hole that had opened inside his heart like the entire thing had been gouged out of his chest, and it ached. Digging his fingers into his flesh was a different sort of pain, but it did nothing to negate the abyss inside.

“—ider is completed, sir. It is—”

“Otto.” It shouldn’t be this hard to talk. Viceroy cleared his throat, blew his nose, and tried for something louder than a whisper. “Halt all WND construction and testing for the week.” He wanted to say two weeks, but he wanted a job to come back to, and taking two weeks without telling McFist first would involve grovelling. He could update the order remotely once McFist knew.

McFist might not want to wait, but he’d wait if he knew what was best for him. If the Sorcerer convinced him to override Viceroy’s orders, fine. The man wasn’t a complete idiot. He shouldn’t manage to destroy the town just because Viceroy was taking an impromptu vacation. If nothing else, the Ninja would take care of things.

Viceroy had high hopes for his WNDs, but he did not have high hopes for projects where he didn’t have the last word before they were deployed.

Unfortunately, with McFist’s eagerness, the latter was more common than the former, and the Ninja had only grown more competent. Somehow.

He was also incredibly lucky, which really seemed to be the determining factor in most of his battles, but Viceroy was sure that luck would run out one day.

But not in the next week.

Viceroy was not unlucky enough for that to happen in the next week. Or even two.

Viceroy took a deep breath as he finally pocketed his phone, hoping that would steady him, but it shuddered in and out of his chest like each smaller breath had before it.

Maybe he’d just leave McFist a note. Give it to a Robo-Ape to pass on. Then he wouldn’t have to try to figure out how to say any of this. He wouldn’t have to say anything. A sticky note would do. He’d be able to write legibly enough without being able to see perfectly clearly. All he’d need is a line or two, maybe three. Taking a week’s leave for a family emergency. Maybe two. WNDs not ready for deployment.

It was McFist.

Viceroy didn’t need to be eloquent.

He scribbled the note, buzzed for a Robo-Ape, and returned to his desk after passing off the note to rest his head in his hands. He just…. He needed a minute. Maybe more than a minute. He couldn’t—

How could his father just be gone?

Viceroy felt the lump growing larger in his throat as tears swelled again in his eyes. No. He couldn’t break down now. Later. It had to be later. If he didn’t think about it for now, he could get through these next few minutes, and then the few after those, and then—

Then—

He’d never gotten the chance to say goodbye.

Viceroy wiped at his nose again and sucked in another breath, pushing the thought away and raising his head. “Otto.” Why did his voice have to crack? “Arrange for a car and driver to be out front in ten minutes.”

That should give him enough time to assure himself that the important processes were winding down correctly and nothing would explode in the meantime. He’d leave his lab coat on its hook at the door and leave the rest of his things where they were; there wasn’t anything he needed to take with him that he didn’t already have. He hadn’t had lunch, true, but his planned lunch had been coffee, and he didn’t have the appetite for even that right now.

For all that his stomach had decided it didn’t need to make itself known, though, the clawing ache in his chest was only growing worse. He was going to get to his parents’ place (his mother’s place) and take one look at his mother and start crying all over again. He wasn’t sure he could be the strong one for her. They’d have to be strong together.

There would be so much to do. Calling the rest of the family would be well underway by the time he arrived, he was sure, but there was talking to the funeral home and arranging for the burial and everything involved with the ceremony itself (the date, the location, the casket, the flowers, the service, maybe a second service, the officiant—and the plot? Had his father ever bought a plot at the cemetery? Had he picked out a specific one if he had bought one?). And they’d need to write the obituary and get it into the paper, and then deal with the bank, the lawyer, the accountant. Get copies of the death certificate. Get bills and titles and whatever else switched over to Eva’s name, anything that wouldn’t transfer automatically.

They wouldn’t have to worry about food, at least. Viceroy knew his relatives, and he knew his parents’ friends. As soon as the news spread, they’d receive enough food to feed a small army.

It was getting easier to breathe.

If Viceroy just focused on what needed to be done instead of why it needed to be done, he could get through the next two minutes, and then the next five, and maybe the next five after that.

Viceroy had nearly finished checking over the production plans when the door to his lab slammed open, which only meant one thing.

McFist was here.

“Do you have a real family emergency or did you get some crazy idea into your head like baking a birthday cake for your beard?” McFist demanded.

Viceroy could hear him stomping across the room, but he didn’t bother looking over. McFist’s ramblings didn’t really deserve an answer. A family emergency was explanation enough.

“You’re not taking a week either way,” continued McFist. “We can’t just shut down production of the WNDs. I promised the Sorcerer—”

He broke off, and Viceroy looked over at him. He’d finished up the important stuff, anyway.

McFist’s anger, always so blatant in his features when he was upset, was no longer etched into every line of his face. Instead, something that might actually be genuine concern had settled there. “We on a deadline for the end of the world? One of your old college buddies do something you can’t turn to your advantage?”

Viceroy tried to smile. He wasn’t sure it came across as a smile. “I wouldn’t call it a family emergency if that were the case.” His voice sounded thick, almost hoarse, and he expected that he didn’t look any better than he sounded. He sniffed and tried clearing his throat again. “I’ll be taking my two weeks.”

“One,” countered McFist, but the usual growl wasn’t in his voice. “And a half.”

Viceroy nodded, locked his computer, and got to his feet.

He’d get the full two weeks in the end regardless of what McFist said now. If nothing else, Marci would insist on it when she found out. Viceroy was confident in that much.

“I’ll get you a car,” McFist said as Viceroy strode past him towards the door.

“I’ve already got one waiting, sir.”

“You’re not supposed to—!” McFist cut himself off, and Viceroy looked back at him from the door as he removed his lab coat. “Right. Well.” McFist glanced at Otto, which had entered power-saving mode and settled onto the desk when Viceroy had locked his computer. “Anything in this place going to run without you?”

“It would be best if you waited for my return before attempting the capture the Ninja, sir.” That wasn’t precisely the answer to McFist’s question, but it was the answer he needed to hear.

McFist grumbled something under his breath. Then, “What about a progress report?”

Viceroy smiled—not because he particularly felt like smiling but because McFist had asked for the one thing he could get without Viceroy’s help, and it was a relief that his last request was an easy one. “Ask Otto to print one for you.”

Viceroy didn’t stick around to see how the printing went.

For the first time since his trip to France, he put work completely and utterly out of his mind.

Of course, without that to occupy his thoughts, they inevitably returned to his mother’s call and the hole that had been left in his life with his father’s unexpected absence.

It didn’t feel real yet.

He suspected it wouldn’t feel real until his father wasn’t there to greet him with the usual pat on the back.

But even that thought—

Viceroy drew in a careful breath, blinked back tears, and tried to maintain a semblance of control until he was in the car and headed for his parents’ place. He wasn’t sure he’d been entirely successful, but no one had stopped him. The Robo-Ape driving him had politely inquired if he wished for conversation and had kept his silence when Viceroy had declined, but that was protocol. He’d speak if Viceroy was the one to strike up the conversation now, of course, and Viceroy thought perhaps he should, just to keep his thoughts from spinning, but….

He needed this time. This silence. Loss was a weight, he was realizing, and though it was lodged in his chest, it hadn’t properly settled. It would weigh him down either way, constant as the heartache, but he wouldn’t get a proper measure of it until it had sunk in.

It wouldn’t drown him.

Objectively, he knew that.

There were too many others with him, too many who would keep him close and help him keep his head up. There was comfort in that. He wasn’t alone, and he wouldn’t be the only rock for his mother, either. But he still—

He still felt lost.

Viceroy leaned his head against the cool glass of the side window, ignoring the occasional jostling of the car as best he could, and let the tears fall where they would.

He’d get through the rest of today, somehow, even when everything he saw reminded him of his father and he had to face anew the realization that they’d never have another conversation, another laugh, another bet.

He’d get through tonight, even though he already suspected his thoughts wouldn’t settle long enough for him to sleep a wink of it.

He’d find a way to get through tomorrow and the day after that, too.

He’d just need to live his life in little moments for the foreseeable future, tiny chunks of time that didn’t seem as insurmountable as an entire day, let alone anything beyond that.

Yes.

He could find a way to do that.

For his father.

(see more fics)

#rc9gn #willem viceroy iii #willem viceroy #rc9gn fanfiction #fanfiction #grief #death #angst #my writing #ladylynse #rc9gn snippet #snippets #I'll crosspost it when I figure out a title but you've waited long enough for this #so anyway viceroy's in shock and things haven't quite sunk in but distraction is a great way to put off dealing with everything right #I’m open to title suggestions btw

[inaris-mage-of-storms]

Farmboy AU Part 3. Jimmy and Scott get to know one another better while foraging.

First | Prev | Next

"You've really never been into town before?" asked Scott, taking Jimmy's hand for balance as they stepped across the low spot where the river dwindled into a creek. "But it's so close."

"Never," said Jimmy. "Granddad always goes when we need supplies or have extra crops to sell. I mean, I'm sure I must have gone with him when I was small. But I don't remember it."

"Seems a shame," said Scott, kneeling down and inspecting the ground cover around their feet. They had followed the river to the northeast, still in the midst of the grasslands but far enough away from the mesa that there were more trees and a greater variety of plants. Jimmy carried a basket against his hip and it had a variety of leaves, roots, and flowers in it that they had gathered along the way. "To think you've never wrapped up a hard week of work with a night at the nearest tavern, drinking a cold beer and dancing with someone pretty."

"Never had beer before either," Jimmy admitted reluctantly, suddenly feeling very small and sheltered next to this man who must see more new things in an average week than Jimmy had seen in his whole life. "Or danced much. I've had wine though!"

"I see." Scott touched a small leaf thoughtfully. "This looks like clover, but not quite."

Jimmy peered over Scott's shoulder. "Wood sorrel," he said. "It's safe as long as you don't eat too much of it. Bit sour, though."

Scott nodded and took a leather-bound book from an inner pocket of his coat, sketching out the plant with a pencil tucked inside. Not for the first time that afternoon, Jimmy watched in fascination as Scott captured all the unique details in what seemed like a matter of seconds before making notes about the location and Jimmy's information in the margins.

"I think I'd like to check out Tumble Town soon," said Scott after a few minutes, closing his sketchbook and putting it back in its pocket. He stood and glanced at Jimmy out of the corner of his eye, lips quirking into a coy smile. "You've taught me a lot today. Maybe I can return the favor and teach you something new." He brushed his fingertips across Jimmy's, not quite taking his hand.

"Oh! Yeah, I'd - I'd like that," Jimmy managed to stammer out, swallowing against the sudden dryness of his mouth. "Sounds fun."

Scott laughed softly, then his eyes widened in delight as he looked over Jimmy's shoulder toward where the trees thickened. "Honeysuckle!" He made a beeline for the bushes and Jimmy followed. Scott trailed his fingers over the delicate yellow blossoms before plucking one and holding it to his nose, then pinched off the very end. He carefully pulled the stamen down until he saw a drop of nectar well up, then put the end of the flower in his mouth and closed his eyes with a happy hum.

He opened his eyes again to see Jimmy staring at him, and he looked down at the blossom in his hands to avoid his gaze. "Oh! There's a little more," he said, tugging on the stamen again. He held the flower up to Jimmy carefully. "Here, taste," he said. "Isn't it heavenly?"

Jimmy hadn't eaten honeysuckle since he was a child, too impatient to pick flowers for only one or two drops of nectar in each one, but now he eagerly parted his lips for the sweet treat and sucked it from the offered flower. "It is," he said in response to Scott's question. "Better than I remember. But that could be 'cause of the company I'm in, too."

Scott laughed and tapped the blossom on Jimmy's nose. "Well, aren't you a smooth talker," he said. He put a hand on the back of Jimmy's neck and pulled him down into a kiss. Time came to a stop, and in that moment nothing else mattered to Jimmy more than petal-soft lips and the taste of honeysuckle.

#i didn't feel like researching all the plants that would probably ACTUALLY be growing in a Minecraft savanna biome so #going with some others that i'm already familiar with instead #we'll just chalk it up to the alternate part of alternate universe mmkay #also obligatory don't eat things just because someone in a video game fanfiction said it was okay #even the 'safe' plants can have variants that aren't so safe #so always make sure you know 110% for sure what something is before you put it in your mouth #flower husbands #empires shipping #empiresshipping #esmp #empires smp #esmp fanfic #farmboy au #file: storm writes things

[ohhgingersnaps]

We Didn’t Start The Fire (SDV Superhero AU)

Ch. 32/32 — And After All This Time, I’m Still Into You T+ | Sebastian/Female Farmer, Abigail/Leah

It’s the sixteenth day of fall, and the Stardew Valley Fair is in full swing. The fall air is crisp and cool, but the sun is warm, and the sweet smell of kettle corn is on the breeze. Lights are strung across the trees. Brightly-colored booths line the streets: fortune tellers, carnival games, food vendors selling candy apples and funnel cakes… Mayor Lewis’ truck, parked safe and sound in its permanent spot beside his mansion, has its tailgate down, and the trunk is filled with hay and pumpkins. Abigail and Sam are trying their hand at the slingshot game, while Leah stands by, cheering them on. Jas and Vincent laugh and shriek as they tumble across the cobblestones towards the animal pens, accompanied by a tired but happy-looking Shane. Ava sets down the pumpkin she’s carrying, then takes a moment to look over her grange display. Considering that a good portion of her crops have been burnt to a crisp, she thinks she’s managed to pull together a pretty decent collection. There are several glass bottles of homebrew apple cider, flavored with cinnamon and clove, shining reddish-gold in the autumn sun; large, bright-orange pumpkins, alongside a basket of miniature ones; a few dozen eggs… The only empty space is that one metal bucket, off to the side, which is for— “Flowers incoming!” She turns to see a truly massive bundle of sunflowers moving towards her, with a pair of skinny jeans poking out beneath. She laughs. “Yeah, yeah, I know, I look ridiculous.” “No, you don’t!” she insists as she steers him towards the display. Sebastian sets the sunflowers in the bucket gently, pausing to arrange them a bit. She decides to help, even though he’s doing a pretty good job, and if it’s actually just an excuse to touch his hands more, she doesn’t think he’ll mind, actually. The third time she “accidentally” reaches for one of the stems at the same time he does, he narrows his eyes at her, suspicious; the fifth time it happens, he huffs out a little laugh and interlaces their fingers, giving up on the flowers entirely. “You know, I thought you actually wanted me to help set things up, but now I’m beginning to think you might have ulterior motives.” “I don’t know what you mean,” she says coyly. “You’ve been very helpful. Couldn’t have pulled this together without you.”

Read the rest on AO3!

#wdstf #sdv #sdv fic #stardew valley fic #stardew valley #it's finally finished!!

[alpaine]

oh no! / a marcus armstrong/david malukas fic

ao3

When Marcus first met him, he assumed he was a fan who’d snuck his way into the paddock. Given IndyCar’s lax standards and the starry-eyed expression on his face, it had seemed like a safe assumption at the time. 

“‘Sup, man. I’m David,” he said, his grin wide and his blue eyes bright and glistening. Brushing aside his admittedly captivating gaze, David seemed to be nothing more than a typical starstruck fan. Marcus had met countless numbers of them in his turn in the Formula series. He knew how to handle them, knew it by rote routine by now. 

“Oh, hi,” Marcus replied, patting his pockets. He sucked his teeth as he realized he only had his phone and his wallet, “I don’t have a pen on me, unfortunately, but I’ll take as many selfies as you want.” To sweeten the compromise, Marcus treated the fan — David — to what he considered to be one of his most charming winks, “As long as you don’t want any more than two.”

David’s smile diminished slightly. Which was a bit of a shame, really. Idly, Marcus noted how nice his smile was, even when it was marginally less bright. With a smile like that, you couldn’t blame Marcus for flirting with him just a little. He could get away with it. If pressed, he’d blame it on not being from around here.

David cocked his head, causing a lock of his blond curls to shift free and tumble out over his forehead. 

“Uh — sorry? Selfies?”

Marcus hesitated. He parted his lips to ask a question of his own — he was starting to feel confused. 

Callum sidled up at just the right time. Marcus sent him a mental thank you for interrupting what was somehow shifting into an awkward situation. 

“Hey, David,” Callum said, greeting the fan as if he knew him. Marcus felt the beginning of an inkling of misapprehension. Callum nodded at Marcus, a smarmy grin on his face like he was only just managing not to laugh aloud, “Marcus.”

“Callum,” Marcus answered, measured, thinking: Why does it feel like you’re laughing at me?

“Looks like I don’t need to introduce you two,” Callum said, torturously. Marcus twitched his eyebrows, hoping to convey No, please do, with just the minutiae of his expression. 

Marcus stole a glance at the fan, hoping he wasn’t picking up on the discrete signals Marcus was trying to send Callum’s way. David was biting down on a helpless grin, like he was also trying not to laugh at Marcus. 

What the hell?

Callum’s smile went lopsided, “But I’ll go ahead and do it anyway, just in case. David, this is Marcus Armstrong. He’s joining us on the grid this year and he’s an idiot.”

Us. Joining us on the grid. 

Ah, fuck.

David was another IndyCar driver, and Marcus had gone and winked at him. 

Marcus suppressed a cringe. He wondered which car David was driving this year, casting his mind back to the cursory research that he’d done a few weeks back. He couldn’t remember David’s name cropping up. He certainly couldn’t remember seeing a photo of him. He would have recalled spotting a grin like his or a gaze like his. They would have stood out amongst the standard lifeless headshots. 

“Nice to meet you properly, mate,” Marcus said, with as much warmth as he could muster. Despite his best efforts, his voice still sounded stilted, “Apologies about the — er. Mix-up.”

David lifted a hand up to his mouth to stifle a laugh, not quite managing to keep it from escaping. As he laughed at Marcus, Marcus felt the dawning of another realization, this one coming on slow and treacly-sweet like syrup. 

David’s hand fell from his lips, and Marcus’s realization solidified into something crisp and clear. He wanted to flirt with David again. Moreover, he wanted David to be receptive, to flirt back. 

“Honestly, no worries. I wouldn’t mind a selfie or two with an F2 legend,” David said, his voice all buoyant and bubbly with suppressed laughter, “It’s nice to meet you too. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Marcus had never been the best at listening to the voice in his head that urged caution on him, that begged him to think before he spoke and acted. When the voice (which sounded suspiciously like Callum, in all honesty) told him not to pursue this further, Marcus discarded the thought. 

He listed in closer to David, ignoring the sidelong glance that Callum shot his way. 

“Only good things, I hope.”

“Oh my God,” Callum intoned under his breath, possibly already realizing Marcus’s plan. He’d witnessed Marcus’s often fruitless attempts to pick up dance partners in clubs enough back when they were roommates.  

Marcus summarily ignored him. David didn’t seem perturbed by him leaning in. If anything, his gaze had gone bright again — blue and glinting, like sun rays shining off ocean waves. 

“Yeah, actually,” David scratched the back of his head, a little sheepish. Still, he barrelled on. Like Marcus, he seemed not to be too concerned with filtering his thoughts, “It’s going to be really fun to race alongside you and see how we, y’know, measure up.”

Marcus refrained from commenting that David didn’t need to wait at all if he wanted to see how they ‘measured up’ against each other. He cleared his throat instead. 

“Right. Should be fun. I’m a bit worried about the learning curve in adapting to American racing, though,” Marcus was, at that. He wasn’t lying, technically, “I’ll need whatever advice you can give me.”

David nodded, wincing in understanding, “Oh, yeah. I can imagine that’s a rough transition.”

“It’s not that rough,” Callum sighed. 

David’s eyes flicked away from Marcus, over to Callum. That simply wouldn’t do. Marcus didn’t want David’s attention to be divided.    

“Come on,” Marcus slid in to tap David’s elbow, just a glancing brush of contact to bring David’s gaze back to him, while also guiding David to stand beside him, “I need a fresh cup of coffee. You can let me know what to expect for testing while we hit up the hospitality trailer.”

They walked away together, side by side, leaving Callum behind. 

“He’s not coming?” David asked, though he didn’t spare a glance over their shoulders. He was only looking at Marcus. It sent a thrill zinging down Marcus’s spine, just as electrifying as securing pole position. 

With every other step they took, David’s arm brushed up against Marcus’s. He was shorter than Marcus, but only just. Marcus gazed down at him, trying to gauge just how he should respond if he wanted to play this right. 

“No,” he settled on, slinging his arm around David’s shoulder, “You know how he is. Absolutely no fun. It’s just you and me, David.”

Marcus wondered if he was just imagining it. It might have been wishful thinking on his part, but David seemed to lean into Marcus’s side as he threw his head back and laughed.

#indycar rpf #marcus/david #indycar fic #im gonna go ahead and call this pairing: #marukas #my writing

[wovenstarlight]

(on ao3)

"HYUNG, IF YOU DON'T TURN THAT THING OFF, I'M GOING TO COME BREAK IT!"

Taewon jolts awake all at once, heart pounding. There's a blaring alarm coming from… beside him, but he keeps his phone on the desk across the room and it uses a different tone, so what—?

"HYUNG!" shrieks the irate voice of a ghost, and Taewon jolts again and calls back "alright!" before he realizes.

Ah.

Ah, but then that means—

He grabs the phone he discarded three years ago and scrabbles to silence it, pushing himself up off the bed, and—It's like missing a stair, the way his foot keeps going, except there's no stairs, it's his own leg that's an inch too short, and he tumbles onto the floor with a loud bang. There's an alarmed shout from elsewhere in the house, but Taewon forgoes answering in favor of shoving himself back upright and stumbling over to the door. The handle won't turn properly, he yanks at it, he can't deal with this right now, not when he needs to see him—to know he's alive—he needs to know, where is he, is he okay, please be okay,

The door gives way. Taewon stumbles past it and stares down the hall. Stares at the other end of the corridor, where his little brother stands, unharmed unhurt whole safe alive. ("…Hyung? Are you… You good?")

Alive.

("You're scaring me, haha, is everything cool?")

Alive.

("Um, hyung…? What—Is that the fucking door handle? Did you rip off the—")

Taewon's phone crunches under his white-knuckled grip, agony flares to life in his palm, and he hits the ground.

*

Hyunjae knows he's being shorter with his aides than he'd like. He can see the strange looks they're giving him and feel the way they tiptoe around him, clear as day.

None of that matters right now. He has a pounding headache and a need to get to Dodam already. Given the time they've regressed to, the guild should already be established, with its first major uptick in growth a few months behind them now. Hopefully the others reach as soon as possible, if they haven't already.

"Sir? We're here."

Hyunjae gives his driver a hurried nod as he slides out of the car, immediately doing a quick spin to check for—there. He makes a beeline for the small white car parked further down the crowded sidewalk and swings open the rear door.

"—really think the hospital—whoa, what the fuck? Who the hell are you?"

"Hello," Hyunjae says with his most charming smile. "You must be Song Cheolmin, pleasure to meet you."

"How do you know my name," the young man in the driver's seat demands, but Hyunjae's attention is instead on the man slumped over in the back seat, one hand holding a red-stained handkerchief to his nose, the other cradled in his lap and speckled with yet more blood. Taewon looks to be in poor shape, but beneath the too-deep eyebags and various cuts and bleeding orifices, he's still perfectly familiar as the him from years ahead, broad shoulders and cropped hair and frown lines that crease deep as those dark eyes look up, bottomless and clouded, and he says "Hyunjae-ssi?" says Hyunjae.

He(he) blinks. His(his) eyes widen, blue system light reflecting in his(his) irises, and he(he) says "Ah," and with that Hyunjae's muscles lock up and he crumples into the car on top of Taewon.

*

Hyuna glances towards the glass doors just in time to see Hyunjae keel over into a car. "Oh, jeez. I—Hold on, sorry," she says apologetically to the guy behind the front desk. "I have to go, I'll be back in a minute, really sorry."

Beside Hyuna, Yerim's mother looks alarmed. "Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, absolutely!" Hyuna gives her a wide grin for good measure but knows it doesn't work on Yerim, sitting on one of the armchairs across the way and staring daggers her way. "Just, I need to go get some of our guys."

Yerim's mother is mouthing our guys, brows creased in confusion, as Hyuna leans to the side and signs at Yerim. "Team's outside, I'll be splitting the skill with them. Be right back."

Yerim nods at her, levering up from her chair and hobbling over to join her mom. With that secured, Hyuna ducks out the doors to Dodam and weaves through sidewalk traffic to get to the little car she recognizes from the photos in Taewon's wallet. She rests an arm on the car roof, leaning down into the open door.

"Hi, Chief Song, Sung Hyunjae, and… new kid," she greets cheerfully, cutting off said new kid's panicked babbling. He gapes at her. That must be little Cheolmin. "Good you're here, let me catch you up—"

"Do you know hyung?" Song Cheolmin cuts in, looking abruptly suspicious.

"Uh, yeah, I'm… I work with him sometimes." There, that should be vague enough for them to spin up a suitable lie around it later on. "I'm just—"

"What's wrong with him? With—the other guy, ever since he showed up both of them have just been totally unresponsive, I don't know what's happening!"

Okay, the interrupting is a little annoying, but now that Hyuna studies the guys she can see what Song Cheolmin means. Taewon's holding himself very, very still, breathing through his mouth and holding a hanky against his bleeding nose. There's that crease between his brows that means he's got one of his worse headaches. Hyunjae, meanwhile, is sprawled over his lap, also stiff but in a hyper-tense sort of way. The… same brow crease is there, and he's frowning just like Taewon is, which is really unusual for him—

Wait. Shit. Hyuna scans him over, then Taewon, then Hyunjae again. The twitches in Taewon's fingers, matched by those in Hyunjae's. The little sways of Taewon's body, matched by Hyunjae's arrested jolts. "Chief Song?" she asks, just to confirm.

There's a pause. "Hyuna-ssi," Taewon croaks, sounding almost relieved, and Hyunjae croaks it right along with him in perfect, eerie synchronicity, right down to the little quaver on the ssi. Damn.

"He's mirroring," Hyuna says aloud for Cheolmin's sake. "Both of them are overloaded from their skills, I'm guessing. Here, I'll—"

"Skills? Hyung Awakened? When? Wha—"

"Song Cheolmin, right?" Whew. Whew. Deep breath, and then another. She forces her voice to soften. "In short, yeah, we all Awakened recently. We'll explain everything in depth, later. For now, it's very important that you sit really still and keep really quiet."

Keeping her voice gentle gets easier as she turns back to Taewon. "Chief Song? I'm going to tag you in, okay? Me and Yerim—she's inside with her mom—we can share the load, it should make it easier until Yoohyun gets here. That sound good to you?"

Both of the guys nod, tense and tight. Hyuna exhales and rests a gentle hand on Taewon's shoulder; he leans into the touch, and she sends over the invitation.

[Awakened Person Song Taewon has joined the Family!]

He goes limp under her hand all at once, right as her head drops into the metaphorical blender. "Fuck," she hisses with feeling, crumpling into the backseat on top of Hyunjae's legs. Dodam is fucking bustling, she realizes as Taewon's inherited skill prickles to life in her brain and begins lighting up the world around her with tens, hundreds, thousands of glowing lives. The sidewalk traffic hadn't seemed quite so intense on the way in.

Hyuna squints at Taewon. His nose seems to have stopped bleeding, and he's giving her a weak smile. The borrowed Stamina must have set in. At least his body can keep up with the demand of the skill, now, even if his mind can't.

Though it remains to be seen how long that lasts. "Your turn, crazy ass," she breathes, and settles a hand on Sung Hyunjae's ankle.

*

Yerim has already been wanting to cry at the ache of her ankles from when she sprinted to get her mom, and at her mom being alive, and at how the Dodam staff look right through her instead of grinning at her and welcoming her home, and at how they won't get her a line to her goddamn ahjussi, she just wants to talk to family, is that so fucking bad.

So when she feels the Family bond shiver with new additions, she has a second to start crying at Taewon ahjussi's presence, before Hyunjae ahjussi's Mana sparks through the bond and her tears freeze solid on her cheeks.

Motherfucker, she thinks, and crumples to the ground as the duo's skills follow them through.

There's people crying out, rising from their seats, muscles tensing in panic, and Mama kneeling over her, grabbing her shoulders and shouting her name. She scrapes herself together with her scant hour of experience, forces her attention away from the crowds in the Dodam halls and out the door, to where Hyuna unni went. There's a split second where she finds them, piled up on each other like toppled Jenga bricks, Hyunjae ahjussi gasping like he's come up from drowning and the other two clutching at him for dear life.

And then, quite abruptly, the skills are pulled away from her with an insistent tug from Hyunjae ahjussi. Panic flares for a moment, and her shoulders feel cold—Mama yelps and pulls her hands away, and Yerim sees frost covering them, sparkling in the lights.

And then both Keeper and Skin slam right back into her in their entirety. Yerim nearly bites through her tongue trying not to scream when her head explodes with agony. She scrabbles at the skills, trying to push them back and split them between everyone, but then Hyunjae ahjussi shoves a spark of his own electric Mana at her, and it illuminates the spikes he’s made of the skills’ range.

Oh. Ohhh. Yerim sees it now. She draws away from her mother, stumbling to her feet, and limps out the doors, pushing insistently past the handful of life-lights that try to get in her way.

The spark of ahjussi's Mana is still with her. She pulls at him, and he gives in equal measure, raw Mana reshaped by her hands into a shell of pure ice around that spark. Light, set alight, and Taewon ahjussi lends her his Strength to toss it straight upwards into the air—Hyuna unni draws away Mana and the winds come to life around it, carrying it ever higher into the sky—

*

Far above them, three pinpricks of life reel back as the sphere of ice explodes into a flameless firework. Yoojin shouts, heels pressing into Blue's sides and wheeling her around so that they hover in place.

"What the—" He squints up at the flakes of lingering ice—not natural, but imprints of pure Mana—then looks down at the ground, where four human shapes wave up at him. Three of them aren't even visible by normal eyesight, sitting inside… a car?

The fourth stranger points insistently at the doors to Dodam, then starts signing. Her movements are too small to see from up here; instead he focuses on the shape of her hands, the cuts they slice through the air, the muscles tensing and relaxing in her arms as her fingers curve. We need to talk. Let us in.

He stares down at them, the little blobs that they are from this high up. The girl—with that height, she must be in her mid-teens or thereabouts—flutters her hands in a seemingly frustrated gesture, and then signs—

That’s Yoohyun's name sign. Yoojin's eyes widen, and somehow she must notice, because she gives a thumbs up and then points urgently at his brother's approximate position.

"Yoohyun-ah," Yoojin says, loud enough to be heard over the wind and Blue's wingflaps. He leans back into his brother, a reassuring weight. "There are people down there, do you know them?"

Yoohyun's crying too hard to respond verbally—has been for a while—so his hands shift where he's got them wrapped in a vice grip around Yoojin's middle. FOUR? he fingerspells slowly.

"Yeah, four of them. Two women, two men."

Yoohyun hesitates. Yoojin feels him out, frowning, as his tense limbs slacken ever so slightly. For him to be relieved, he must know them, so Yoojin prepares to hear acquaintances, or maybe colleagues, but definitely not—

FRIENDS.

Yoojin's breath catches. "Friends," he feels himself repeat.

Yoohyun nods minutely.

Yoojin hadn't thought his eyes could get any wider. "Okay," he says, and releases his white-knuckled grip on Blue's feathers to retrieve his phone and send a few texts to Soyoung and Sunghan.

Then he looks down again, waves at the quartet of stranger-friends on the ground below, and flies them home.

#my writing #my sranks #the s ranks that i raised #the s classes that i raised #song taewon #sung hyunjae #moon hyuna #bak yerim #han yoojin #han yoohyun #blue sranks #and featuring... #song cheolmin #kwon jiyeon ywbk #! #rankswap au #part one of three posted today; make sure you catch them all! #star.txt

[daintyduck99]

have to send a rulie prompt bc ash

"borrowing my favorite shirt? you're down this bad?"

"Borrowing my favorite shirt? You're down this bad?"

Julie squeaks, shoving the shimmery, sheer blue top back into Flynn's closet like she's been burned. She wheels around.

"No! I just…I don't know what to wear. His band plays punk rock, it sounds like, but they're playing at a bar downtown, and I tried on like forty outfits and felt ridiculous in all of them. I figured you'd have something that would leap out at me, so. I'm…looking. That's all."

"Babe." Flynn levels her with a distinctly unimpressed look from where she's leaning in the doorway, arms folded. "You can borrow something. Hell, you know I'll help! Whatever look you want, we'll nail it. Just admit that you're hopelessly into him."

Julie bites her lip. "I barely know him."

"Yeah, because you're always getting lost in his eyes, or his smile, or—"

"Oh—" She lobs a gauzy scarf at Flynn. "He's pretty, okay? How am I supposed to retain any information whatsoever in that crowded lecture hall with him sitting right beside me? Who gave him eyes like that?"

Flynn winds the scarf around Julie's shoulders, pulling her into an impromptu dance as she warbles, "Said you could keep them, I don't know how to act—"

Julie giggles, smiling in spite of herself as they spin around the room.

"Stop, I'm not Carly Rae Jepsen levels of smitten!"

Flynn's eyebrows flit into a challenging arch as she smirks, stopping abruptly.

"Jules, you just said—"

She cuts Flynn off with a groan, dropping her head onto Flynn's shoulder as she flushes to the roots of her hair.

She certainly did just say. Shit.

Undeterred, Flynn continues, "I'm surprised you even remembered that he invited you to come see his band. You haven't been this hopeless since Nick! Call it what you want, babe, but I know you. You are so down bad, and it's adorable."

"I don't want him to think I'm adorable! I…I want him to think I'm…desirable, and cool, and…I don't know if I can compare to anyone who'll be there tonight, Flynn."

Flynn rests her head on top of Julie's. She hums soothingly, somehow wrapping her arms around her tighter. Possibly because she might have dropped the scarf.

"You don't need to be a rockstar to get Reggie’s attention, babe. He was probably flirting when he invited you! He'll be looking for you, and I bet he'll have eyes for only you, no matter what you wear."

Julie lifts her head to press her forehead against Flynn's, warmed all over in a different way now. "Thanks."

Flynn smiles, squeezing Julie's shoulders. Her eyes take on a mischievous shine.

"But. If you really want to give him a heart attack, we can dress you in grunge."

Julie takes a deep breath. It does nothing to calm the swarm of butterflies in her stomach, but she trusts Flynn.

"Okay. Let's do it."

She almost doesn't recognize herself by the time Flynn has finished, the sharp, striking figure in the mirror, armored in mostly black and pops of red.

She'd nearly balked at the scandalously short crimson skirt, but she has to admit that it looks good with Flynn's crop top and the leather jacket and the fishnets. Her signature necklaces gleam on her collarbone, and her eyes flash like fire from the liquid eyeliner. Her lips, stained red, paint a sultry, devilish smile.

She looks…fierce. Bold. She loves it.

Judging by the way Reggie nearly tumbles off of the stage when he first sees her, it's safe to say that he loves it, too.

As it turns out, you can find someone desirable and adorable. She knows firsthand from the way he spoons her as he snores directly in her ear.

#crush prompts #rulie #reggie x julie #once again #flynn is the best wingman #ficlets with ash #julie and the phantoms

[luwianskies]

Silt Circle

The static sizzled on the ship’s radio, the only lifeline between it and the deepest diving maned submersible beneath it. They had chosen this part of the Abyssal Plain seemingly at random, as far as the ship’s captain could tell. A desert under the sea...

And damn near the whole science team, and maybe more of the crew than was safe, were listening intently, watching the equally static-filled video.

“...doctor Carver, repeat. Did you say...”

“--t’s like a giant...crop circle, right there in the silt! The curves of the circle is incredibly regular! The rising and falling features are...well I haven’t done the full circle, but they seem perfectly even as well! This is unprecedented! This is...”

On the screen the static lessened intermittently, giving them only glimpses of what the submersible was seeing. The circle on the screen did indeed seem unusually regular, the path of the curve of it smooth and undented by debris or imperfections.

it was the most unnatural thing the captain had ever seen.

It was just wrong.

“Wait” the doctor whispered distractedly “turn into the circle, right there, do you see that?”

The camera turned towards the inner side of the circle, the light blocked by rising and falling hills of long-settled silt. These rising and falling features were also regular, almost geometric. It was like looking at a deliberately designed mountain range stretching beyond their feeble floodlights’ reach...

The camera zoomed in.

“No, back up, doN’T DISTURB THE--”

The submersible’s thrust made the silt rise, and everyone inhaled sharply. The waters in the Abyssal Plain moved so little and so slowly that it was estimated that the layers of tiny debris and silt could very well have remained undisturbed for years and years. Shaking it up now felt almost...sacrilegious.

And beneath a thin, dusty layer, were glassy reflections.

What?

“What...” the sizzling static voices echoed, “what...is that...glass?”

Everyone crowded around the screen, but said nothing.

The captain’s brain was in overdrive despite his silence and stillness.

That, he thought with disbelief, looks like volcanic glass.

Smooth, black, flawlessly reflective. No scratches, no dents or chipping.

Again, too perfect.

Wrong.

“Uuuuuhhh, captain?” the ensign on radar called out to him from a different radio, “we’re getting a signal that doesn’t make any sense--”

The captain had had enough, his stomach sinking and heart racing as he radioed the dive team suddenly:  “Carver, Cress, get back topside now.”

“What?! But this is--” Carver objected.

“Cress, that’s an order. Do it now!”

DWONG!

The video cut out, the radio screeched before also falling silent, and the whole ship rocked from what felt like and unending impact and shaking, shaking, everyone tumbling!--

------------------------------------------

duh-duh-DUUUUUHHHHH!!!

Inspired by these beauties:

With the artist pictured here at the bottom left! A small puffer fish trying to impress a lady. The things we do for love!

Here’s one with a diver and the puffer fish in the middle for scale:

So of course, when you have a wild imagination like mine...extrapolating to the extreme is easy! Maybe the ship will get lucky and there WON’T be an eldritch monstrosity coming for them because they disturbed its art piece XD

Maybe.

Anyway, toodles!

#new idea #My writing #silt circle

[capriciouswriter207]

Emptober day 17: Desert

Creating something out of nothing is quite a difficult endeavor. Only sand, red sand, terracotta as far as the eye could see. An arid and dry region, where only few pools of water persisted against all odds and only rabbits ran around the wastes of this desert region. 

And yet, one man came and decided to settle in a bowl. It could have been a lake; he wasn’t quite sure, but he loved the security it provided. Safe, in their little hole in the ground. He just needed to dig a tunnel to get a train to connect the city center of his new town to the periphery. Slowly, through hard work, he built the homes, he built the railroad, he built the water tower and even managed to grow some crops in what little dirt he found. Not quite fertile soil, but he put a lot of effort in it and invested most of his time in growing crops to provide food for the people who would inevitably find this place.

Tumble Town. Named after the tumble weeds that often darted around his town center. Nothing screamed ‘desert’ more than these dried-up plants and all the setbacks he had.

In the end, the Sheriff succeeded. It was not the oasis he had originally been looking for, but he loved the location so much to let it go, and he eventually managed to turn this desert into his own little slice of paradise.

#empires smp #empires smp s2 #emptober 2022 #jimmy solidarity #it wasn't easy to settle on something for this prompt #but i think i did okay #i like tumble town as a concept very much #just... yes #capricious writings

[youllallriseintheink]

Guardians of Hisui, chapter 1: A Land in Crisis

A story set twenty years after the events of Pokémon Legends: Arceus, Cyllene faces a mysterious new threat that could destroy all of Hisui and take away what remains of the family she’s made.

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On the high walls surrounding the Diamond Clan, Cyllene manned the canons. A horde of about a dozen kleavor emerged from the woods, and with a few well-placed shots, she killed three of them. Shots from her allies killed all but one of the rest. The final kleavor, its eyes milky and its chitin rotted, ran past where the canons could reach without risking damage to the walls. As the kleavor began to scale the wall, Cyllene drew her sword. Just as its heavy black axes dug into the ledge, Cyllene stabbed downwards and impaled it through the abdomen. With a horrible groan, it went limp, its body thwacking against the wall as its axes remained embedded in the ledge.

Kamado appeared behind Cyllene. “Nicely done. Do you think we should kick it down? Or should we leave it there for decoration?” The man asked sarcastically.

Cyllene put a foot against the Kleavor’s head and shoved off the wall, leaving it to tumble down the twenty feet. She wasn’t feeling particularly jovial.

“Fair enough. Well, I’m here to take over for the night. You can go home now.”

“Thank you, Kamado,” Cyllene said before leaving.

Walking through the new fields and pastures outside the village, all surrounded by tall, wooden walls, one had to admire how quickly the people of the Diamond Clan had made their continued existence possible. Rather than evacuate once the mutant kleavor had become a problem, they’d not only erected these walls, but expanded their fields, planted more crops, and bred more livestock to compensate for their new inability to rely on hunting and fishing for food. It was no one’s dream to be unable to leave one’s village, but the people here would be safe until the kleavor became too numerous to hold off.

Cyllene hated bug Pokemon, and she especially hated kleavor. The thick chitin armour. The disgusting brown fluid that flowed from their bodies when they were pierced. The massive axes of black stone on their wrists. Years and years ago, on one of her first missions, she’d seen their pre-evolution sneak up on her comrades and slice off her friend’s leg before they could fend it off. Cyllene was stronger now, but this infestation was beyond anything she’d faced then.

Kleavor weren’t supposed to occur in large numbers in the wild, and so when great numbers of them began to pop up far from the normal range in which kleavor or even scyther dwelled, it had sparked scientific curiousity in Jubilife Village. The mysteries surrounding them grew the more they learned. These weren’t regular kleavor. They were kleavor in poor health, with milky eyes and stained, poorly maintained chitin. They didn’t act like kleavor, either. Kleavor and scyther lived in burrows and caves, maybe five or six to a group. These creatures, hundreds of them, were erecting a massive structure reminiscent of a vespiqueen’s nest over the Crimson Mire. Naturally, Laventon had been filled with excitement and scientific curiousity by the strange infestation and had wanted to study it himself.

And Cyllene… knowing that something would have to be done about it eventually, for the good of other species and perhaps even humankind… she’d let him set off with barely a thought. Laventon had survived many dangerous research trips into the wildest of areas. He could to handle himself, even if he could be reckless at times. She hadn’t checked in with him to see how he had prepared, or who he was going with, or anything else. She hadn’t wanted to even think about mutant wild kleavor unless she had to.

He had gone alone. It had been seven years, and no one had seen him since.

Cyllene had carried on the best she could. Her children needed her.  And as the kleavor multiplied like a cancer and their hive expanded, Hisui needed her. As the kleavor began attacking the Diamond Clan, Kamado changed the focus of the Galaxy Team from research to defense and had moved them from Jubilife Village to the Diamond Clan. They had recently called upon Hoenn to lend them the manpower to go on the offensive and destroy this threat. Should they refuse, evacuation from the Diamond Clan, and perhaps one day all of Hisui, would remain the only option.

It was hard not to think about. But at least Cyllene was home now. As soon as she opened the door, the smell of cooking meat and onions greeted her, and Keidan and his monferno greeted her with a hug.

“Kill any bugs?” he asked, a big smile on his face.

How she loved her Keidan. He was still young enough to see this work as beautiful and heroic. “Yes. Thirteen today. You?

“Seven.”

“Excellent. Fleur is handling dinner, I take it?”

“Yep. She has something to tell you.”

Fleur stepped into the room. She looked scared. “You didn’t have to tell her...” she said.

“Is something bothering you?”

Fleur looked away and tucked a lock of dark blue hair behind her ear. “I have to keep the food from burning,” she said, starting back to the kitchen. Before Cyllene could ask, Fleur added, “and no, I don’t need help.”

“Is she pregnant?” Cyllene whispered to Keidan.

“No. It’s just myth stuff. I don’t know why she’s making such a big deal about it.”

Of course, Keidan wouldn’t. She understood Keidan. She tried to understand Fleur, but... well, she wished Laventon was here. He had been so much better at it.

Soon, the table was set, with a place for the three people along with Keidan’s monferno, Cyllene’s bisharp, and what was now decidedly Fleur’s alakazam.

“Are you ready to tell me now?” Cyllene asked, sitting down at the table.

“Yeah. Mom, I’ve been reading through old reports on space-time distortions, and I think that the reason the kleavor are acting like this is because of what happened with Volo. Before Volo, the time-space distortions were mostly situated over the Coronet Highlands. That’s where Palkia, Dialga, and Arceus lived, and it’s also where the distortions should be- any foreign Pokémon that drops in there just dies before their population grows because it’s such a harsh place, and they don’t happen often enough elsewhere for it to cause problems. But since Volo, the hotspot for space-time distortions has been moving. It’s like the three legendaries are trying to figure out if the Coronet Highlands are really the safest place for them. And the hotspot when the kleavor started acting like this was right over the Crimson Mire. Maybe they’re like, kleavor from the future or something- an invasive species.”

“Very interesting,” Cyllene replied, hoping that she sounded interested. “I always like hearing about what you’re reading. Is that all?” Cyllene wondered why Fleur had been so anxious. Cyllene didn’t care what the kleavor were or why they were acting up; they would be extinct in a year provided that the Hoennians came through for them. But, Fleur did care a lot about her myths.

Fleur looked down at the table. “I think you need to tell the Hoennians about this or it could happen again. We need to let the Gods know that they have to stop causing these things so often in gentle environments.”

“No,” Cyllene replied immediately, “The Hoennians barely think this place is habitable as-is. If they think that, for the second time in two decades, the entire country is in danger because the Gods were acting up, there’s a good chance that they won’t waste their soldiers on us. At best, they’ll send evacuation ships. At worst, they’ll leave us to die. I can’t risk that over a hunch. After the kleavor are gone and the Hoennians are headed home, maybe we’ll investigate your theory.”

“This could prevent the next threat to Hisui. I need more than ‘maybe.’”

“We’ll see what the priorities of Jubilife look like and what Kamado decides.”

The conversation died down for a minute. Tension was in the air, even though Cyllene thought she’d made herself perfectly clear.

“I feel like you’re only giving me that much to make me shut up.”

“Look. I know you want some glory from this myth-chasing, but your father and I both dedicated years to researching the Pokémon of Hisui so that this place would have a future. I am not going to do anything that isn’t in its best interest. That is final.”

“This could take a lot of manpower to investigate. It needs to get done while the Hoennians are here. What if I’m right, and this happens again? How many times will they bail us out like this? Believe it or not, I’m being practical!”

“Yes,” Cyllene replied, her voice cool even as she was visibly losing her patience, “The tears in your eyes, raised voice, and the desire to endanger our foreign relations for a theory you have no evidence for all scream ‘impartiality.’”

With that, Fleur took a deep breath, got up, and left the table, clearly upset.

Alakazam glared at Cyllene. I love you, but you’d better fix this, it said to her telepathically before following Fleur out, making comforting noises.

Cyllene regretted her words immediately. “I’m sorry,” she said, to no one in particular. “I’ll... I guess let her cool down a bit. Then I’ll fix this.”

“Sounds like a good idea. I’m going to head out, meet up with some friends.”

“Thank you. Good for you,” she replied.

Keidan left after he was finished eating. Cyllene waited a few minutes before knocking on the door to Fleur’s room.

“What?” she said, unimpressed.

“Fleur. You’re seventeen. You’re old enough to hear me admit this: motherhood is not my strong suit. I try to make that my problem instead of yours. I failed in that  tonight. I’ve decided to tell Kamado about your theory tomorrow. I don’t know what he’ll do with it, but maybe you’re right and he will want to pursue it. Come out and explain it to me so I’ll have some notes to present to him tomorrow.”

Fleur did. She even seemed excited. Cyllene was no student of myth: she couldn’t tell whether what she was saying was plausible or not. But it made Fleur happy. That was what was important.

No one slept particularly well that night. Fleur definitely wasn’t- Cyllene could hear a lot of rattling around coming from her room. Cyllene worried about that girl. A world needed more than warriors, to be sure, and Fleur was perfectly helpful to the Diamond Faction as a farmhand. But Cyllene feared that one day, violence would come knocking at Fleur’s door, and she’d be totally unprepared. From a young age, she'd hated even watching as children younger than she was battled their Pokémon. Laventon had always had the attitude that it took all types, but now Cyllene regretted not doing more to toughen her up.

How did I even produce someone so soft? Maybe that’s what Laventon would have been like if he hadn’t been practically blind to danger. It can’t be easy for her to come from a family of explorers and warriors, watching her brother follow in our footsteps when she never will.

Cyllene dozed off sometime in the early morning hours and woke up to a letter slipped under her door.

Mom,

Please don’t tell Kamado my theory today. I thought over what you said, and you were right. I need evidence, or he won’t take me seriously. I think that the library in Jubilife has what I need. I’m heading there right now. Don’t worry- Alakazam will protect me, and I’ll be back as soon as possible.

-Fleur

Cyllene’s heart rate shot through the roof. Fleur, out there where the kleavor could hunt her down, with only a Pokémon weak to bugs for protection? She banged on Keidan’s door.

Keidan opened the door. Any annoyance from being woken early was gone the second he saw the distress on his mother’s face. “What’s going on?”

“Fleur went beyond the walls. She must have had Alakazam teleport her out. I’m going after her.”

“Can I be of help?”

“Yes,” Cyllene said. This wasn’t like the times Keidan had begged her to let him go on a Galaxy Team field mission, as he’d frequently done back when they were still in Jubilife. He was fifteen now, bigger than her, nearly as good with a Pokémon or a sword, and Cyllene could tell he was dead serious. “But you must heed my every order out there. It could save your life. Begin packing us up- assuming she’s alive, it could take us days to find her. I’m going to tell Kamado the situation.”

Keidan gave a stiff nod, and they parted ways.

#pokemon #pokemon legends arceus #cyllene #pokemon ocs #kleavor #cyllene x laventon #my fanfiction